The Chosen Sin (11 page)

He'd get everything he wanted.

He curled his fingers into the sheets and gritted his teeth at the thought of her hot, wet flesh gripping him. Temptation murmured into his mind,
You could make her body want it even if her mind doesn't
.
You could leave her pleasured so well she'd ignore the part of her mind that fights your seduction. You could make every one of her fantasies come true. If you did that, she wouldn't hate you in the morning.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he fought to listen to the part of himself that reminded him that she was fatigued, weakened, and any effort on his part now would be taking advantage of that.

He looked down at her. Her dark lashes were swept down over her creamy skin, her full lips parted in slumber. God, he wanted her, but at the same time he felt this ridiculous urge to protect her.

If there was one thing Daria Moran could do, it was protect herself. She didn't need him to do that.

Yet, there it was, that image of her after Sante had betrayed everyone. Her big eyes luminous and vulnerable. Her heart grieving the loss of her friend.

She'd come to him that night to lose herself. To forget, just for a few hours, the horror of what had happened. He'd done that for her, had obliterated the pain with his body. Turned grief to passion. Though it had only been temporary, since in the morning the anguish had returned.

She moved in her sleep, turning over onto her back. He regretted the loss of skin-to-skin contact, even though it was driving him mad. The moonlight silvered her silky-smooth shoulder and kissed her face where a curling lock of her damp hair had fallen across her forehead.

Alejandro rolled off the bed and headed for the shower. He kicked on the water and stripped off his boxers. Then he climbed into the shower and let the hot water sluice down his body. He pressed one palm against the wall and stuck his head under the flow, letting a groan escape him.

He needed sexual release. Alejandro knew he could find it in ample supply here under the dome. Chosen women typically were up for a good fuck, no strings attached. The problem was that he didn't want just any woman. He wanted Daria.

Alejandro reached down and curled his fingers around the root of his cock with his opposite hand and stroked himself from base to tip. Pleasure shuddered through him as he imagined it was Daria's sweet little cunt he thrust into instead of his own palm.

He couldn't wait to feel all that slick, hot flesh closing around his shaft tighter than a fist. Couldn't wait to feel her soft skin against his, her moans and sexy little cries in his ears. He wanted nothing more than to feel the way her sex would pulse and ripple around his thrusting cock. Hear the hard slap of flesh on flesh as he drove her harder and faster.

Just the thought was enough to make his climax explode through him. He shuddered and groaned as he came with only the thought of Daria in his mind. Breathing heavily, he rested his head against the wall and let the water course over him.

He wanted Daria Moran with a carnal intensity that he couldn't control. The woman would be his, one way or another.

Two days, three at the most. That's how much time he'd give her to adjust to the Choosing. That's all she should need.

After that, all bets were off. After that, she became his conquest.

 
 
DARIA awoke to a morning-lit room with hunger rumbling through her body. She'd fallen asleep last night without feeding. Remembering the warmth of Alejandro's body against hers made her feel its absence now.

She turned toward the garden side of the room and spotted him out there, face raised to the sky. Nothing but that pair of tight-fitting jeans clothed him, strong muscles of his back rippling as he reached up to rub his face. He seemed tired.

As if sensing her gaze on him, he looked at her and walked back into the room wearing a stormy expression. “Hungry?” he asked.

She placed a palm flat to her stomach. Her need for sustenance cramped her belly. “It's time for me to feed. I can't deny it anymore.”

He turned away and mumbled something.

“What did you say? I don't think I could've even used my new superhearing to catch that.”

“Gordon stopped by this morning. Told us not to feed. He said the initiation ceremony involves food.”

Well, that sounded ominous. Something other than hunger tightened in her abdomen. “Gee, do you think there will be a buffet?”

“Doubt it.” He shot her an unfriendly look. Hmm, someone had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed.

She pushed up into a sitting position and yanked a hand through her unruly tresses. Ah, nothing like pillow-styled hair. She'd be the envy of all the other women today. “Did he clarify that comment at all?”

He shook his head. “Makes you wonder, doesn't it? There are succubare here. Lots of them. Maybe they're a part of the ceremony.”

“Possible. Maybe there really will be a buffet.” She rubbed her eyes and stretched. “So I slept through his visit, huh?”

“Seems like you could have slept through an earthquake.”

“How about you? Did you sleep okay? I didn't steal the covers or anything, did I?”

He took a step toward her. Heat flashed through his eyes, and then was gone. “I didn't sleep well, but it wasn't because you stole the covers.”

She climbed out of bed. “I wonder if Sante will be at the ceremony,” she said almost to herself as she reached for her bag and pulled out a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. “Give me five minutes and I'll be ready,” she said as she headed into the bathroom.

She emerged minutes later with her hair looking a little better than it had when she'd awoken. At least it was combed.

Alejandro had pulled on his boots and a dark brown shirt that set off his eyes. As if his eyes needed something more to make them look deep, seductive, and heart stopping.

They left the apartment and headed over for the initiation ceremony.

The walkways leading to Sante Hall—she choked on that name when she merely thought it—were dotted here and there with other members of the Shining Way.

It was like they were back on Earth, and everyone was going to church on Sunday. The Church of Sante. Daria winced.

If she concentrated on each individual in turn, she could sense whether they were a vampire or a succubare.

The succubare seemed to vibrate—which was the only way she could describe it—at a lower rate than the vamps. Like the very molecules that made up the vampires moved at a faster velocity.

Each vamp she sensed remotely seemed old or young, strong or not so strong. Yet, as the oh-so-helpful Carlos had pointed out colorfully the day before, judging people that way could be deceiving.

All the Chosen around them were entering the hall on the opposite end of the doors they'd gone through yesterday. When she veered down a path to go in that direction, Alejandro caught her arm. “Gordon told me the front doors.”

When they pushed open the heavy doors, Daria saw why. Carlos stood at the opposite end of the room, by the entrance to the rest of the building. Beside the fountain stood Brandon, along with three other vamps, two female, one male. One male succubare also stood there. All new initiates, she'd make a guess. She locked gazes briefly with Brandon.

Carlos walked toward them. “Good. You're all here.” He wore a long white linen shirt, tight-fitting gray pants, and a pair of black boots. His long dark hair was clasped at the nape of his neck. He opened his hands to them. “Welcome.”

Several of the initiates greeted him.

“You seven have been selected for various reasons to join us here at the Shining Way where we live in the benevolence of Christopher Sante. Some of you were allowed in based on your reputations, or the reputation and request of someone who knows and sponsors you.”

Carlos turned and smiled first at Alejandro, then Brandon. “Some of you are old friends.” He looked at Daria and his eyes seemed to glitter. “Or are friends of old friends. This morning's ceremony is designed to welcome each of you into our embrace. May we all live in peace and harmony here under the blue skies of the Shining Way.”

“Thank you,” said a couple of the initiates. Others smiled openly. Daria tried for a contented, yet neutral expression. She feared that if she attempted a pleased look, her eyes might give her away. Anyway, it would only be natural she'd still be pissed off about what had happened the previous day.

Excitement and apprehension rolled and tumbled inside her as Carlos instructed them to walk to the doors at the far end of the chamber. Her thoughts and feelings were not aided by her blood hunger. It roiled in the pit of her stomach. Would there be more “tests” for the initiated to undergo?

Would Sante be on the other side of that door?

Carlos pushed the double doors open. Alejandro grabbed her hand as they walked into the other room. They were the last two to pass through the doorway and into the darkened room on the other side. The light of myriad candles flickered around them, guttering from sconces on the walls and from containers set around the room that cast long shadows.

A high ceiling arched above their heads. The walls appeared to be inlaid with an interlocking pattern of white crystal. The tall blue black windows she'd seen from outside let in very little light.

The huge chamber was packed wall-to-wall with silent, motionless vamps, succubare and . . . What was the other energy she felt in this room? She scanned again. There were a small number of people who weren't vamp or succubare. They felt vulnerable to her, weak, young, and a bit slower in vibration than the others.

They felt like sheep in the middle of a pack of wolves.

Her mind clouded as her hunger surged. Not even sheep, more like veal. Tender, succulent, and perfectly prepared.

Her fangs extended into sharp little points in her mouth and the hunger hitched up a notch in her stomach. She tightened her grasp on Alejandro's hand in response.

He also trembled, a jarring reaction in a man as powerful as him. It was as if the scent of prey in the throng undid him, or perhaps tempted him so badly he fought to restrain himself. A glance at his face revealed nothing—he'd set his jaw and adopted a stoic expression.

Carlos started to speak to the crowd, introducing the initiates one by one, asking everyone to treat them well and help them become acclimated to their new surroundings. Daria caught a word here and there, but not all of it. The hunger pounded in her stomach, drowning out most thought.

Carlos repeated the short speech in Spanish, Mandarin, and then in Darpongese, a pidgin language that had developed in the sector. Daria spoke Darpongese, but couldn't concentrate on his words. She swayed, and Alejandro pressed her to his side, winding an arm around her to keep her upright.

She scanned the room, seeing faces all around her. Mostly, the vamps and succubare were off to the sides. All of them just stood there, watching them. Since they were all in one big mass, it was hard to get a fix on the group of the ones she couldn't identify.

Finally, Carlos turned toward them. “Our first gift to you” were the only words he uttered that really registered. The vamps in front of them parted.

There, before them, chained and kneeling on the floor, were the ones her mind had been searching for, the ones she'd been hungering for.

Seven human blood slaves.

9

DARIA'S mind stuttered for a moment as she absorbed three facts. First, she'd felt hunger for the humans who now knelt in front of her before she'd known what they were. Indeed, even now that she knew what they were, she still wanted them. Second, Carlos and the hundreds of vampires and succubare in the room seemed to want the initiates to feed from those humans right now.

Third, the new vamp in her liked that idea a lot.

Alejandro had gone rigid against her. He gripped her so hard he was cutting off the circulation to her arm.

Daria stared at them, taking a more critical look. Were they slaves or were they donors? The line was thin, but oh so important. Were they there by choice, addicted yet retaining their free will? Or had they been pressed into service, abused, and enslaved?

They appeared healthy, clean, and happy to be there. Their eyes lacked the rabid, mindless need for veil present in abused slaves. Yet, they wore chains. Maybe that was just affectation.

Daria just wasn't certain.

Carlos made a sweeping gesture, and said something she couldn't understand. The initiates all moved forward and she did too, propelled mostly by Alejandro's arm around her. She fought the urge to dig her heels in with everything she had.

Daria didn't want to feed from them, even though her hunger definitely thought she should. Damn it! She couldn't lose it now. She had to convince these Chosen she was one of them. She had to allow her hunger to win this battle.

A little hesitation could be explained by her being an infant vamp. A lot of hesitation would be suicide.

She watched the succubare male select a woman with long blond hair. She was perhaps in her twenties. When she realized she was being selected, the expression on her face became rapturous. Her beautiful features transformed into pleasurable anticipation and gratitude.

Was that her natural reaction? Was she so deeply veil-addicted that she would place herself in chains and allow a succubare male to feed from her lust? Or maybe these humans were under a veil right now. Carlos's, perhaps, or Sante's. A powerful mind trick to make them seem more willing than they were.

At the thought of Christopher Sante, she raised her gaze to search the crowd. Was Sante here right now, watching them? It was impossible to know. She didn't dare try to open her line of communication with Alejandro now, too afraid she'd slip and broadcast to the room at large.