Hunger Aroused (14 page)

“Well, I think I can be a help to you. The Council might be persuaded to end the kill order, if for no other reason than by offering them the right amount.”

Corin had amassed a substantial fortune of his own. Still, it wasn't enough to make him believe the Council would take it in exchange for Jasmine's life. “If it were so easy, others who have broken the law would have done it as well, I think.” He shook his head. “No, that's too easy. Councilman Sage, for one, wanted to make an example of Jasmine's sire.”

“But that's just it!” Sijourn's eyes danced with life. “She
has
no sire. There is no one to make an example of! Even they will see the potential for the vampire race with that.”

Corin caught Jasmine's eyes, again hoping like hell she didn't tip their hands. “Let's say you can make them an offer they'll accept, what do you want from Jasmine?”

Sijourn blinked lazily. “Why to study her, of course.”

“Study me? I don't think so.”

“My dear, we're talking a few blood samples here. A tissue sample or two there. Nothing you couldn't handle.”

“No!” Jasmine sounded horrified, rightly so. “And hell no. I'm not a guinea pig or a lab rat. What happens when you don't get the answers you want from a few blood samples or a tissue sample or two? Hell. No.”

Sijourn didn't answer her question. He didn't have to. Corin imagined the failed experiments frustrating the blond man and his team of scientists until mere samples weren't enough. What happened if or when they discovered Jasmine truly did have a sire, unlike they'd previously thought?

A chill overtook him.

“Mr. Vartan,” Corin said, using his last name to make sure he had the man's full attention. “If you want to help Jasmine by convincing the Council to suspend the kill order, I'll be the first in line to help. Anything I have is yours for that cause. As far as ‘studying' her, I think you heard the lady.” He stood, suppressing a smile when Jasmine followed suit. “In the meanwhile, I'll be taking you up on your offer to excuse myself. But I'm taking Jasmine with me.”

The thin slit comprising Sijourn's lips disappeared altogether. His ears reddened, the only other sign of anger's rapid rise. His voice was eerily calm when he spoke. “No. That won't be possible.”

Corin had only a split second to wonder how he planned on stopping them when pain, heat like he'd never imagined, blossomed in his chest. He didn't connect the booming noises with the sharp agony at first. His mind would not link the two together. The smoldering sulfur scent didn't trigger his consciousness either. Instead he looked down in time to see mushrooming blood, the dark red liquid an ominous black on his shirt. A lung no longer useful for exchanging air flooded until filled to overflowing, sending the remaining blood into his throat, where it finally escaped using his slackened mouth. Conflicting sensations gathered in his brain, countered by the disturbing sight before him.

Thoughts of the woman at his side held him aloft for a few seconds more. He regretted how their relationship ended, that he would leave her to this monster. He longed for one more day with her. One more hour, or even a minute.

Corin looked at Jasmine, then collapsed.

She didn't think after she heard the rapid-fire gunshots one after the other. Couldn't think. Jasmine watched the blood drain from Corin's face, heard the sharp gasp of pain and when he hit the floor, she went down on her knees beside him.

He hadn't fed in at least a day. His sleep had been fitful and full of dreams. The thrashing that woke her often when she slept beside him testified to that. His body would be worn down.

Steady hands slipped beneath his shirt, searching for the source of trauma. She hadn't seen what exactly had hit him, just the horrible spread of fluid on his shirt. When some of it finally dripped onto pristine hardwood flooring, the bright red circles made her blood run cold.

No. Think positive.
Corin was a vampire, an executioner. He was strong. At the peak of physical fitness.

Blood spilled from his mouth, pink frothy bubbles settling on his lips and chin. Hemothorax. In the urgent care center, they would have stabilized him before sending him to the closest hospital for a chest tube to drain the excess fluid. But wait…hadn't Corin said he didn't need to breathe? That the slow up-down motion of his chest was a habit, not a necessity?

Footsteps hustled in her direction, stopping when the physical presence of someone hovered above and behind her. “Jasmine…”

The artery in his neck thrummed slowly, but thank God, it existed. Her fingers moved, searching, searching, trying to find the source of all the blood. She hadn't seen where he'd been struck yet. She had to find it. Stem the flow of blood.

Beneath her, Corin stirred. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled, a sickening whine whistling through his nose as he tried to breathe through the blood. A thin trickle pooled in one nostril before spilling onto his face and running down his chin.

Ash. He'd said something about ash and the rumors being true. If she found the puncture in his flesh, made certain the deadly wood hadn't pierced him and that the bullets were the old-fashioned kind, he might have a fighting chance.

“Jasmine, I need your help, dear.” Sijourn's voice floated in the periphery of her mind, but she ignored the sound. She would not be distracted from this single priority.

He healed quickly, she'd seen that once already. Find the source. Stem the flow. Give him a chance to mend himself.

But what if he couldn't? What if his body was too weak, too tired to do what it needed?

She sniffled, for the first time noticing the tears tracking down her face. With a disgusted shrug, she used her shoulder to wipe away the excess and begin the wound search anew.

Sijourn crouched next to her. “I leave his life in your hands. When he awakens, which I'm certain he will, make him see the benefit of your helping me, Jasmine.”

There.
An inch away from his sternum and in a tight formation around the ribs protecting his heart, were three small holes.
Bullet holes. Thank you, God, plain old bullet holes.
If they were the results of ash entering his flesh, she expected the damage to be much more severe.

“Otherwise, we'll do this again and again. And then again.”

Torn on whether to turn him and search for exit wounds, she instead splayed her palms against the gaping gashes. Throwing her weight forward, she pressed down, wincing with him when Corin groaned. The blood was slick beneath her hands, sheer determination keeping them from sliding across his skin.

“Corinius was transitioned into a life of pain and torture. How much he goes through before you help us is up to you. He'll be able to stand it…for a while. Will you?”

There was so much blood! It spread beneath her hands, ignoring them as if they didn't exist. She didn't know how to get it to stop. Make it stop. Corin didn't move now, and he needed to. He needed to heal and come back to her.

“The decision is entirely yours.”

All of her nursing training fled, no more than a whisper of memory. Tears choked her, an untamable flood clouding over her vision. Wiping did no good, for as soon as she whisked them away, more hastened to fill the dry space.

Precious seconds went by at a glacier's pace. She dared move one hand to his neck, desperate to feel the pulse of life. To know it still beat. Blind, trusting…hopeful, she lowered her face. The brush of her lips over his, her silent plea.

At first she couldn't find it, the slick tips of her fingers moving away from where she placed them. A panicked wave seized her as she forgot where to check for a pulse, how to find it. Fingers that seemed so sure and steady before now trembled, groping for some sign, some muscle memory to guide her back to where she needed to be.

“P-please, C-Corin,” she cried, her voice breaking. “Help m-me. Don't leave m-me!”

Her eyes slipped closed, the pads of her fingers gliding through the slick blood. Searching. Searching.

“Oh God!” She almost missed it, but a choked sob escaped when something beneath her fingers jumped. It happened again. A lovely, life-affirming pulse from Corin's beating heart.

The forgotten wounds were closing beneath her other hand. Open skin mended itself, pulling the edges closed until the deluge of blood slowed. Her palm itched above the sensation of crawling flesh, but she recognized it for what it was, not letting it distract her from helping him keep as much blood inside his body as possible. When at last it stopped, Jasmine lifted her hand slowly, torn between watching the
thump, thump, thump
of his pulse or focusing on the fascinating healing of ragged flesh in progress.

The words of their abductor echoed in her mind. They could take him down long enough to kill him. They would.

“Now, I hope my argument for your staying has been persuasive,” Sijourn said. He tucked fallen hair behind her ear. “Or maybe you need some time to think about it?”

Her gaze shifted to Corin's leg as he moved it. The motion slow but a testament to his arousable state. His eyelids fluttered, the dark lashes too black against his blanched skin. She stroked the side of his jaw, a trail of blood left in her wake. “He's so pale.”

“He'll be fine, but look at you!” Sijourn sounded almost chipper. “I bet you'd love to slip into a hot shower and get some of that mess washed off.”

She waited for Corin to open his eyes. She needed him to look at her. To say her name.

Someone's arm wrapped around her waist. Not Sijourn's. He was too fucking refined for that. Someone lifted her with ease from Corin's side, almost dropping her when she started to kick. “No! No—I'm not leaving him!”

Sijourn stood, a cold killer's smile still plastered on his face. “Go now. Shoo. We'll take care of him.”

“No—”

“Jasmine, I need you on my side. Start by showing some faith, eh? We won't hurt him further. I promise.”

The hawk-nosed man from before pulled her against his chest, his grip firm. Tears filled her eyes again. He was stronger than she, but they would not separate her from Corin. Not without a fight. “I'm not leaving…No!”

“Go.”

Thrashing, scrabbling to get loose, she thought for a split second she couldn't have heard right. That she hadn't heard him. “Corin?”

He looked up from the floor, eyes beautiful and ethereal against his gaunt face. He nodded weakly. His body shuddered from the force of a wracking cough before his breathing eased. The slow rise and fall of his chest comforted her like nothing else could.

“…S'okay. Go.”

She would have dropped beside him, raining kisses over him until he forced her to stop, but Hawk Nose kept her aloft. Writhing in his arms did little good.

Sijourn addressed her again. “While Corinius looks a tad worse for wear, I assure you he'll be fine. Go. Get that shower. I'll have him fed and brought to you. By the time all that has passed, you'll hardly remember this unfortunate incident.”

Unfortunate incident?
She bit back the urge to curse him with every derogatory word in her vocabulary.

“And then you and he can go over what we discussed. Shoo now, Jasmine. You're a mess.”

She wasn't given much choice. Hawk Nose lifted her as if she weighed nothing and carried her out of the room. From her backward view, she watched the slow closing of the door, shutting her away from Corin. The soft click as the latch engaged sounded like the clasp of a lock around her heart.

***

Outside the stall, blood-stained and shredded clothing pooled like used trash next to the commode. Inside the shower, Jasmine let the water sluice around her, raining over her head, a mild, but pleasant hum created and echoing against the tile walls. Dejected, she laid her forehead against the cool tiles, the drum of water against her skin an ever-present, if ineffective, massage.

How had she gotten here? One minute she was at work, fighting off the effects of what she thought was the flu and the next…well, the next she found out she carried whatever organism or thing, however the mechanics worked, that turned her into a creature of the night. One that brought a temperamental, but insanely handsome man into her life. Never mind the fact he'd been sent to terminate her existence. To add insult to injury, they'd both been abducted, their lives threatened, and Corin almost killed. When had her life become so complicated?

All she wanted right now was to go back home, go back to her mundane job and spend the rest of her days helping those in need. But as of this moment, she didn't even know if she'd be alive tomorrow.

Her eyes burned, and she couldn't decide if the water tracking down her face came from the shower or from a fresh set of tears. Separated for more than ten minutes for the first time since meeting Corin, she realized how much she missed him. She needed him here to reassure and comfort. To eliminate the feelings of stifling sadness threatening to drown her.

A draft brushed across her, sending a contagion of goose bumps racing across her skin. Jasmine turned at the change in the air, and this time, the inundation of water streaming down her face originated at her eyes.

“Corin,” she said on a breathless whisper.

He stood dark and brooding. Breathtaking. His dark eyes glowed with an animal hunger, shadows on his face making him seem ghostly. Fine mist from the heat of the shower circled around him, magnifying the effect a thousand times over. An ache in her belly clenched, screaming for satiation that could only be found when she touched him. Loved him.

The effects of the bullet wounds were gone from his chest, and he was devastating in his beauty. Disobedient legs refused to move, to carry her into his embrace. It was all she could manage to study him, her gaze traveling across his torso and over the hard lines of his abdomen. His full cock jutted away from his body, announcing his intention more loudly than anything he said could have.

I'm going to fuck you.

The words amplified in her head. He hadn't spoken, hadn't moved since opening the shower door, but she heard him as clearly as if his lips moved against her ear. Her sex tightened, a flood of desire rushing to his call.

There was so much possession, so much want in his stance, she knew he needed her now as much as she needed him. He needed to protect and to own. To prove to both himself and to her that she belonged to him, body and soul. He was alive—more than alive—and another minute would not pass until she knew this for certain too.

“Jasmine.” Coarse, thick with emotion.

She opened her arms, inviting him in. “I'm here.”

She didn't know where this desire came from. Whether the brush with death made Corin more aware of his mortality, or if the unspoken bond tying them together drove him. A lazy blink later, it didn't matter. He crossed the few feet that separated them and went into her extended arms.

A vivid memory of him on the ground, his life's blood seeping from his wounds, flickered in her mind. More emotion rose, threatening to drown and overwhelm. “I thought…”

“Shh.” His lips swept over hers, his tongue stealing a taste. “Don't think.”

It wasn't a difficult order to follow. Thoughts of blood and death evaporated, drowned by the weight of his kiss. By the feel of his naked skin against hers. “Don't do that again.”

He licked her lip again, a self-satisfied smirk quirking his mouth afterward. “That?”

Her body molded against his so perfectly. As if the universe encouraged their union. Demanded it. “
That
you may do whenever you want. Don't you dare try and die on me again.”

The kisses that followed almost swallowed her whole. “You won't get rid of me that easily.”

Good,
she thought before his mouth covered hers again.

Corin gently pushed her back until cold tile walls made her squeak with surprise. His large hands soothed her skin immediately. They worked like magic, smoothing a trail of heat that spread across her flesh, permeating deep inside until her very bones were warmed through. The running shower had nothing to do with how she felt at this moment. That honor belonged to Corin.

A thick finger stroked between her legs, left her sighing as pleasure built. He circled her opening, growled a husky sound of approval when she widened her stance, and he hastened his touch as reward. “I hurt,
mellita,
” he murmured.

Her pulse kicked when one finger dipped inside her liquid heat. Kicked harder as one finger turned into two.

“How can I help?” She moaned unabashedly.

“I hurt for you.” His thumb flicked over her distended clit, his body the only thing that kept her aloft when her knees buckled.

***

All of this was wrong. This ache deep in his soul that wanted him to lift her onto his body, impale her and make her ride him until they both were too spent to move wasn't supposed to exist. He shouldn't want a woman this much. Not just any woman, but
this
woman.

The pulse of his teeth, another reminder of how much he wanted her, suggested to him that perhaps he should stop letting his mind reign. That he shouldn't fight the pull she created. Let duty fall to the wayside and give in to need.