Vampire Erotica Blood Rush (4 page)

In the back of my mind, I worried about the security guards. Public sex had never been one of my fantasies, but there I was being felt up and kissed with such finesse it sounded like a grand idea. I didn’t want him to stop. Maybe it was the bite or maybe it was because he was a vampire. Either way my flesh ached for him. I needed him to touch me. Any fear I’d felt gave way to a hot desire.

Kristos deepened our kiss, slipping his tongue between my lips as his free hand went to cradle the back of my head. His other hand began to move faster and I sighed as my body quickened with him. I gave a soft cry into his mouth when I came. Pleasure rushed the nexus of my legs, leaving me warm and tingling.

Kristos smiled against my lips and then broke contact as he returned to his seat.

A little frazzled by what had just transpired, I grabbed my wine glass and gulped the fruity liquid down. As I moved to set it on the table after draining it dry, it exploded in my hand with a sharp crack.

I never heard the bullet. Or maybe I did, but failed to understand the significance of the sound. All I knew was my glass shattered, spraying wine and shrapnel into my palm and at my face.

I shrieked and dropped the glass, my other hand moving up to shield my head. The swish of wind overhead signaled the addition of arrows to the artillery raining down on the restaurant. They buried themselves in the wall with vibrating ‘thunks.’

Kristos dropped to the floor, yanking me down with him. His eyes scanned the restaurant as bullets whined over our heads to thud into the wall behind us. “We have to get out of here.”

I heard his words and agreed wholeheartedly with his assessment, but couldn’t respond. I was transfixed by my hand which welled blood in deep maroon. Lots of blood.
So
much blood.

“Myra?” He gave me a little shake and then went flat on the floor as another arrow sailed over us, this one low enough I could have reached up and touched it as it flew by.

I blinked at him, knowing I should listen to him, that what he said was important, but I couldn’t focus. Kristos seemed to sense my shock because he grabbed me by the shoulders and shoved me toward the kitchen as more bullets zipped through the air above us.

I watched my blood drip on the floor as we went, feeling increasing panic at the amount of it. “What is going on?” I had to yell to be heard over all the bullets and the sound of glass shattering as they hit the heavy chandeliers overhead.

“Nothing good. Beyond that I don’t know.” Kristos pulled me through the kitchen, which had already been abandoned, to a back door and scanned the alley way outside. “Here, we’ll go out this way.” He glanced down at my bare feet. “Can you manage?”

“Yes,” I said. Those shoes were a menace. Wearing them while running from gunmen didn’t seem like a path to continued good health, not in the presence of bullets and arrows.

“Don’t panic if I run faster than you. I’m the target, you’ll be safer without me next to you. I’ll get a car and come back to pick you up, understood?”

I nodded and then we were in the alley. At first, it was quiet and it seemed like maybe we would get away safely, but then bullets started pinging off the brick walls. I flinched each time one hit, but kept running. As he’d warned, Kristos rapidly outpaced me, moving so fast he was a blur. I tried to stick to shadows, grateful my dress was blue and not yellow. However, I knew my fair skin stood out in the dark, making me easy to spot.

I ran and tried not to think about what it would feel like to have a bullet smash into my exposed back. At the end of the alley was a busy street with lots of people. If I could just make it there I might be safe or find a cop even. Bullets dogged me every step of the way, showering me with shards of shattered brick. Why anyone would work so hard to target me, didn’t make any sense to me. Couldn’t they see Kristos wasn’t there?

At one point, I whirled around and screamed, “Kristos is gone. I’m really not worth shooting.”

A shadowy figure at the other end of the alley paused briefly and the bullets stopped flying for all of five seconds before coming faster than ever. Kristos had been wrong, I wasn’t safer without him, I was in more danger. I picked up the pace, widening my stride into a full sprint, rough pavement scraping my feet.

Just as I reached the end of the alley, a bullet narrowly missed my head and drove sharp bits of brick into my arm and neck as it hit the wall. The brick ripped through my skin and hot blood rolled down my arm. At the same time, a squeal of tires announced the arrival of a silver sports car. The car stopped inches from taking me out at the kneecaps.

Kristos stuck his head out the driver’s window and shouted, “Get in.”

One hand clamped on my shoulder, which was slick with blood, I hurried to the passenger door. He’d already opened it for me and was backing out of the alley before my butt hit the seat.

Slamming the door shut with my good hand, I fastened my seat belt and tried to remember how to breathe.

“Where did you get a car so fast?” I asked as we zoomed down the streets of New York so quickly the city flew by in smears of neon lights.

“I stole it.”

I slumped in my seat with a smile of grim humor. I’d gone from courtesan college girl to a starring role in a real life rendition of Grand Theft Auto. All that was missing were the cops.

Kristos pulled out a cell phone and dialed with quick efficiency. In a clipped voice, he said, “I need a sweep of the penthouse and a clean-up crew at the restaurant. No humans on this one, I want kin we can trust.” Not interested in a long conversation, he hung up abruptly.

“You think someone set you up?” I asked, horrified.

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“But why?”

He gave me a ‘you should know the answer to that’ look. “I’m rich. I’m powerful. I have enemies.”

“If they wanted you, why would they keep shooting at me?”

“Because it might hurt me.” He grimaced. “I should not have left you like that, but I really did think they would stop shooting once I was gone.”

I frowned at him, trying to understand a world where hurting me was just a means to an end. We rolled to a stop at a red light and Kristos turned in his seat to face me. Apparently he didn’t like what he saw, because he uttered a soft expletive and began taking off his shirt.

“You’re hurt.”

“Well, yeah, bullets will do that,“ I said, the stress of the evening’s events making me flippant.

“Take this.” He tossed his shirt to me, the muscles of his now bare torso flexing smoothly as he did so.

“And do what?” I fingered the fabric and inhaled the scent of him clinging to it. He smelled like cologne and wine and there was a smoky undertone that reminded me of a cigar.

“Staunch the blood.”

“I’m not bleeding that much,” I said.

“I won’t take no for an answer. You’re white as a ghost. You need to stop the bleeding.” He forced the shirt into my hand and then pressed it onto my shoulder.

I rolled my eyes, but obediently dabbed my shoulder with his shirt. More blood than I realized stained the white fabric. Maybe Kristos had been right.
Maybe you’re going into shock,
a small voice said in my head. I told it to shut-up and applied pressure to my shoulder.

When blood trickled down my face and into my mouth, I just giggled. Kristos should be drinking it, not me.

“What’s so funny?” Kristos asked.

I didn’t respond because my breathing was too fast and yet I couldn’t get enough air.

He gave me a quick glance and started when he saw me. “Oh, your face. Myra, I am so sorry. We’ll get a doctor just as soon as we’re someplace safe.” He put a hand on my neck and pushed me down. “Lean forward and put your head between your knees. That should help with the breathing at least.”

I did as he requested, staying like that the rest of the drive. There was another rush of blood from the cuts on my head, but then it slowed down. The position made my world small and dark. I could pretend I was safe and my labored breathing eased somewhat.

A few minutes later, Kristos stopped the car and turned off the engine. “We’re here. Can you walk to the elevator?”

I sat up, blinking as all the blood that had pooled in my head rushed out of my brain. Another gush of blood dripped down the side of my face and stained my chest. I wiped away what I could and took in our surroundings. We were in an underground garage, parked in the spot right next to the elevator. A small security detail waited for us. I could tell they were with us and not against us because they waved to Kristos and he waved back.

“I can walk.” That was probably a lie, but it sounded good. I’d come this far, that had to mean I was tough, right?

He gave a curt nod and got out of the car, nodding to the guards that came forward to meet him. I opened my door and hoisted myself out of the seat as two guards moved to escort me, hands on their guns, eyes scanning the parking garage for threats. Up until the last hour of my life, dating a guy with his own security would’ve been weird. Now I was grateful. The more guns on my side the better.

I wobbled to my feet. My body was too heavy and too light at the same time. My head floated for the moon, spinning like a Frisbee as it went, while my legs had morphed into leaden anchors. Leaning against the car, I slid my way toward the bumper, shutting the door behind me with a clumsy shove of my good hand.

When it came time for me to take my first step unsupported by the car, I crumpled. The pavement rushed up to meet me as my arms flailed, trying to help me balance. Before I could hit the ground, Kristos was there, strong arms cushioning my fall and bringing me up in a tight hold against his naked chest.

He carried me to the elevator and propped me up against the wall as he inserted a key into the control panel. The doors opened and we stepped inside. Security formed a line in front of the elevator, but didn’t join us. Kristos pushed a button, visibly relaxing when the elevator began its ascent.

“Are you okay, Myra?” He took the shirt from my shoulder and dabbed my forehead.

“I’ll live,” I said, after a brief debate over the correct response to that question. I was a virgin trying to act the part of experienced call girl. I’d flashed an entire restaurant, been bitten by a vampire and involved in a shooting. Despite it all, I was pretty sure I would not die.

Amazing.

“Next time, wait for me to open the car door for you.”

“Okay,” I said, agreeably.

“You’re starting to fall.” Kristos reached over to pull me upright and close to him. I leaned against him as the elevator hummed around us. He had the strength of an immovable rock which I found reassuring just then.

I ran a hand over his chest, amazed at how smooth and firm he was. The guy worked out and I was almost grateful for my wounds because they had made him take off his shirt. The view was amazing. “Hey, Kristos?”

His arms tightened around me and he looked down at me, concern shining in his crystalline eyes.“Yes, Myra?”

“Is there going to be a next time with,” I waved my hand in the air, “you know,
bullets
?”

“Not if I can help it.”

I went back to touching his chest because repeating the same looping whorl on his skin kept me from losing my mind. I needed my world to be small, like when I’d had my head between my knees. Touching Kristos kept me from thinking about bullets and blood. “Your security sucks, by the way.”

His jaw clenched. “I noticed.”

“And you’re hot,” I added, deciding it needed to be said. His chest was especially magnificent. I wanted to say as much, but any further opportunity for discussion was lost as a deep blackness claimed me.

Chapter Three

I woke with a start as someone dropped a frosty ice cube on my chest. For a moment, I couldn’t remember what had happened, but then I saw Kristos standing in the doorway, a concerned look on his face, and it all came back to me. I lifted my head up, wincing as the pain from my injuries hit my nervous system.

Damn
. That had been one hell of a night. To think my biggest fear had been having sex with a vampire. It just goes to show, you never know what will happen next, right? I fell back on my pillow, eyes finally registering the man holding a very cold stethoscope to my chest. He was middle-aged with a Ken-doll hair cut and brown eyes.

“What time is it?” I asked, my voice a hoarse croak.

“She needs some water,” the man said to Kristos who nodded to someone behind him. The man smiled down at me. “Glad to see you awake. You slept all day and it’s now just about ten p.m.”

“Am I okay?” I checked my arms and legs. My shoulder was raw with small wounds, and, no doubt, my face wasn’t much better.

“Lots of superficial abrasions on your shoulder and neck, but those will heal fairly quickly. You have a deep gash on your palm that I’ve stitched up and you have an IV to replace fluids.” The man pointed to an IV bag hanging overhead, using the wooden bed post as an IV stand. “I’m Doctor Martin by the way.”

“Myra Danson, but you probably knew that already. Thank you, doctor.” I pushed myself into a sitting position and accepted the glass of water Kristos handed to me. I drank it one long gulp, not even stopping to breathe, and gave him the empty glass. “Could I have some more?”