Pn1 (6 page)

to the floor, her pussy throbbing to alleviate the heat.

Fingers stroked her legs, going dangerously near the intensity of the

heat erupting between her thighs. Dew formed where the touch came

down, sending ice cold tendrils into her flesh to stab at the heat and

take it down a notch.

Her torso shifted, moving the center of the heat closer to the cool

stroke. She wanted it buried deep in her, needed it in her to crush the

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heat and tame the flames turning her into cinders, washing away

memories of how the fire started.

"Not yet. The fun is about to begin."

The coolness split, moving up each side of her chest, scratching

past her breasts and stopping on her neck. Chipped ice flaked around

her neck re-freezing into a chokehold.

Her throat clenched trying to break free of the compacting force,

but all she got for a reaction was a dry laugh drifting about the

contours of her flopping body. Pain pinched back the heat, ligaments

snapping as her throat collapsed inwards. Now she really couldn't

breathe.

Legs tried to kick, but something weighted her down, something

cool and hard pressed back the heat, but left her no outlet for her legs

to move. Nails grew on her fingertips, scratching back at the darkness

that overtook her. She had to fight, didn't she? Wasn't this what her

body did?

Asphyxiation came at the moment of brightest pain, white dots

speckling her blacked out vision then fading into the fullest black,

darker than any moonless night. Helena became untethered from her

body, floating in a miasma of red that washed over her, drowning her

in a substance she knew had to be of the heavens or demons it smelled

so good. Nothing earthly ever soothed and awakened every sense.

Blood coagulated, flowed, eddied. Cells formed, invading the

marrow of her bones, forcing new structures to take on dimensions the

body crazily tried to produce in numbers that boggled the limited

mind into insanity.

Her mind shifted and morphed, brain stem finding a new

attachment point that made her body erode the necessity of lungs and

heart from the living equation. Muscles and ligaments reattached in

new stronger ways and began to fight back, pushing the blackness

away.

"Wake up, new one."

She hated that voice, loathed it, even if the sultry tones stirred

renewed heat inside her, a different heat than she'd had before, more a

heat of longing. Still the voice had to be shut up and the smugness

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erased from memory. Her spine flexed, pushing her body upright.

Blood-shot eyes launched open.

"Welcome back."

Helena hissed at the man on top of her trying to pin her shoulders

back down onto the pillows.

"I see you don't wake up in a good mood." He chuckled and dug

into the meatiest part of her shoulder blades.

Helena reared up and head butted him, letting him take some of her

flesh and clothes with him as he faltered back onto her legs. She

sliced her legs open, sending him toppling to the floor in a lovely

sounding thud of flesh against hard surface. That was an addictive

sound, better than a slap of flesh to flesh. The gorgeous quality of the

sound made her yearn for more, like taking a tree limb and having at it

with his back and ass.

She readied her body to launch at him, but emitted a screech when

her body sprung forward and crashed back onto the pillows, sending

them scattering and her swaying and grappling in air.

Constantine lurked over to the corpse and held it up on display.

"Be very careful or you will end up like him?"

* * * *

was beautiful, as he'd hoped for. Her primed body didn't collapse

from the strain but took up the new blood that overrode her immune

system, letting reservoirs inside her bubble to the surface and take

over all daily functions, minus the ones she no longer needed.

Her scent slowly morphed, shifting from prey to predator. Air

thickened around her and cloyed at his nostrils, his body galvanized

for an attack should she get loose. The scent of her transformation

clogged his throat making him want to sink his teeth into her breasts

and suckle her until she bleated for him to stop or to go further.

His fingers clawed the air until he had to sit on his hands. He

wanted to scratch at her, mark her as his own, imprinting her with

slice marks only his hands could make.

She scampered, hissing at the air, her hands swatting the rope trying

to climb it or yank it from the ceiling. It was hard to tell which she

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was doing or if she was even working with a plan or simply going

wild from the surges of energy and power rippling in her muscles,

needing an outlet instead of consuming themselves.

He could give her an outlet, but anyone near her could be the brunt

of her devouring repercussions. He'd seen female vampires pull out

the eyes of lovers during the change. Insects during mating had

nothing on female vampires coming into their own or coming of age;

but, there was one grunt left.

If Jason disposed of the lumpy bench, the other grunt would enter

the room without suspicion. Between Jason and him, they could pin

the two together until she was fully satiated and power shot through

the base of her spine, igniting all her passion into one source. The

grunt might explode from the exchange, but then Constantine could

take the next step with her and try and claim her as his own.

With her on his side, the council would have to elect him overlord

of Rome. No one would be a match if she was his mate, and a woman

with power lust as strong as hers would be crazy to turn away the

chance of a lifetime, even an eternal one.

She could be co-ruler over Roman Vampires. Nothing in L.A.

would ever come close, and she'd have him; he didn't think the lust

was one way. His body would be hers whenever and however she

wanted it as long as no lackeys were around.

He let his nails pierce into his buttocks. Focus, he had to focus.

She overbeat his brain, making him space out into passionate dreams

when he could still lose it all, lose her. Being vampiric was only the

beginning; he needed her tamed back into a semi-social animal that

would heed to him, or fake it in public.

He forced himself out of his reverie resplendent with images of her

naked body conforming to let him in when he heard the telltale shuffle

of Jason's walk. Grudgingly he got up, but kept her in his side view.

She was making headway with getting some of the rope threads to

fray and snap.

Many more strands contained her, but he did appreciate the effort

she put into it. It was good Jason had gotten the marine quality rope

intended for keeping boats in place. He didn't want to see how

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quickly she would make mincemeat out of decorative rope or where

she would stuff the shredded pieces of rope.

"Dispose of the body without the other grunt knowing, then bring

him to me."

Jason sniffed the air. "Do you want him revved up?"

Constantine smirked. "Tell him he's about to get what's coming to

him for taking part in the operations, a little early payment. That

should stoke him. He's seen her, right?"

Jason nodded. "I showed him the picture you took."

Constantine's smirk turned into tight lips. "Then he'll be very

excited about getting his hands on my woman."

"I can't keep an eye on all three of you. You sure you ready to do

this?" Jason took hold of the grunt's feet and started hefting him down

the hall.

"Little choice. We have to speed things up and she's heated. If she

doesn't want him, we off him and wait until she calms down then I'll

have to chance it with her." Constantine kicked the grunt in the head.

Jason looked over his shoulder, dragging the sack of bones behind

him. "Going with the setup you planned?"

"I'll hold her up you keep the grunt from running and place him at

her heels in sacrifice, should help appease her long enough for us to

get into place. Have him come in his underwear to confuse her, and

tell him whatever you need to get him ready to fuck her."

Constantine returned to pacing in a wide circle around her. He

hoped for the grunt's sake she did off him, because after she fucked

him, if she fucked him, he'd have no remorse in biting the guy's head

off. She was his, and only his. No one got to touch her or come in

her but him, no one. If she wasn't so dangerous right now he'd do the

deed himself, but a dead vampire couldn't be a contender for Rome

and the outlying European cities.

At least the grunt might get in a good orgasm before dying, not a

bad way to go all things considered. Grunts didn't have the best track

record in longevity and could die permanently with a lot less

enjoyment. Constantine wiped the blood off his boot as memorial

proof to just what a grunt could experience. Did these grunts really

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think they could rise in the chain of command so easily with so little

effort on their own part?

He stuffed the growls slipping past his lips back into his throat; he

heard two approaching. It was time. Looking over at her, he

marveled at her tenacity. She bled from her head but still lunged at

the rope. Maybe she was even trying to tear out her own hair to get

free.

Her clumsy actions made it hard to know what the goal was, but

she was a gorgeous animal, so taut and lively. His cock grew

watching her, another animal he had to tame back right now. It wasn't

his turn to approach her yet and beg for safe release.

He pressed his shoulder blades together and hunched his neck;

Jason and crew were approaching. Steady, he could feel his fists

aching to feel the bones of the lackey's nose. Keeping his back to

them until the hair's on the back of his neck stiffened, he slipped his

canines back into his mouth and stuffed his hands in his pockets. The

stiffness of the leather was a reminder he had to keep it in his pants

and skin, no matter how happy the hireling might be.

True to his disgust, the man in front of Jason swaggered into the

room around Constantine, eyeing Helena up, confirming with his eyes

that the rope was still keeping her linked to the ceiling.

* * * *

She sniffed. Not as good smelling as the tall one, but not far from

good. Her tongue tested the air he sullied. Letting saliva wash over

her tongue, she swallowed; he would do until she could get the tall

one in her grip then the hunger would stop. The tall one had all she

needed, but he was mean and kept away from her claws.

* * * *

moved between him and the prop to prevent Constantine from

dismembering the plan before she had her chance. Constantine swore

under his breath at Jason for being right, and at himself for being

unprofessional. This was his operation and his best chance. But with

that swagger, if she didn't finish him off from the world of the half-

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living, he would, mercilessly, for the sheer audacity of thinking he had

anything to offer her but a workable tool.

He stole over to her side in steady, small steps, as her attention

turned onto the new guy whose groin was pulsing. Constantine told

himself she would have gone for any obvious movement in her state,

but that didn't stop him from wanting to tear off his own clothes to

prove to her he was just as well adorned. What stopped him was fear

that she might tear off his adornment as a new chew toy.

The minion stopped outside of her pouncing radius, and looked

around.

Jason kept behind him, arms ready to steady any fast fleeing

movement. "If you are looking for a weapon, you are out of luck.

You'll have to prove how manly you are on your own. You aren't

scared of a female, are you?"

Constantine held back his laugh. Anyone not scared for her was a

lunatic and deserved to die to stop inflicting his or her stupidity on the

world.

"No, but," the grunt chattered, "what..."

"Silence." Jason planted his palms on the man's shoulders.

"Talking will only anger her, look she wants you." He pushed the man

to his knees, and with a heel in the small of the back pushed him into