Vamps: Human and Paranormal (23 page)

“Not enough to save you,” she laughed.  “Stupid cow!” 

Lucy looked at her hands, dripping with her blood and the vampire’s blood, and an idea popped into her head.  “You said the markings on the walls protected vampires, making anything else’s powers useless.”  Lucy dropped the knife, stumbling toward the closest wall marking.  She reached out to the creepy crimson design and swiped her bloody hands over it, immediately feeling a sizzle and then a flux of power.  Suddenly she knew, right then and there, that the spell (at least in that room) had been broken.  She could feel it.
             

“Shit!” Delia spat as her eyes flashed murderously at Lucy.  She lurched forward, forgetting the painful gash in her stomach, and ran right for Lucy, her eyes crazed, her fangs dripping with strings of saliva.

Lucy called her power up around her, the familiar heat flickering in her head.  “Delia, stop.”

As if she’d run into an invisible wall, Delia halted in her tracks; though she was still seething and trying to reach her arms out to grab at Lucy.

Lucy fell to her knees, suddenly too weak to stand.  She pulled her hand away from her neck wound again to find it drenched and dripping with even more blood. 

I’m dying…

Delia stalked closer, as if she were trying to pull free of whatever was holding her back. 

“I said stop, super bitch!”  Lucy’s power flashed hot in her mind, and she felt it reach out and hold Delia back.

But the vampire was smiling.

“You’re fading fast.  Won’t be long before all that delicious blood of yours is all over the floor.  And when you pass out…” She clapped her hands together in exclamation and smiled all the more devilishly.  “You’re mine.”

The psycho-bitch-monster-of-death has a point.  Once I pass out—which I’m already starting to feel—I won’t be able to hold her back at all.
  Lucy shivered as darkness crowded her peripheral vision. 
Either she’ll kill me, or…or I’ll wake up with fangs. 

“I’m torn,” Delia said, obviously feeling better, her wound probably almost healed already.  “Should I just turn you and get this over with?  Or…I could make you drink just enough of my blood to heal you, and then I can carve you up for a while, see how
you
like it!” 

While Delia was
monologuing her ass off about the ravages she was going to inflict on her, a very simple thought revealed itself to Lucy.  She didn’t know if her little ability covered it…and even if it did work, would it last after she’d passed out?

“Or I could wait until you dead, dead.”  Delia twirled with excitement.  “With only the tiniest sparks of life left, and then bring you back as—”

“Go to sleep,” Lucy said, her eyes locked on those of the vampire. 

Her monologue abruptly interrupted, Delia stared at Lucy with slack jawed disbelief.

Lucy breathed in one deep breath, calling up what was left of her strength, feeling the hot annoyance burn in her skull.  Delia was just about to say something when Lucy said: “Go—to—sleep—Delia!  And don’t wake up again until I tell you to.”

She gave a snort of laughter, shaking her head, but then her knees buckled and she fell to the ground, her arms shaking as she tried to hold herself up from the floor.

“No...you...
you can’t
...”

“Sleep...” As the word fell from Lucy’s lips, so fell Delia to the ground.  Her frosty cold blue eyes stared out at Lucy for a few very uncomfortable beats before they too slid shut, and Delia’s entire body went slack with sleep.  

Hopefully she’ll stay that way after...after I...
  A dark curtain started to fall over Lucy, only the sound off her own breathing filled her ears, a frightening cold enveloping her body, making her numb and scared. 

I’m really going to die…

She felt a tear trickle hot down the side of her cheek.

This…so…bites!

From the other side of the room came an earsplitting crash, the sound of splintering wood and metal being ripped apart.  Lucy tried to keep her eyelids open, but they fell like a curtain as a very large, very scary shape burst through the wall, roaring like a freaking T-Rex.   

Great… 
It rushed on all fours toward her.  S
omething else that wants to kill me.

IT WAS THE TASTE
that woke her: sweet and rich and…
to freaking die for.
  It gushed over Lucy’s tongue and down her throat in greedy droughts.  Better than ice cream, better than chocolate, better than a caramel mocha latte made with whole milk—even better than the cake her grandmother had baked special for her birthday.

As if the scrumptious liquid was a magical cure-all for everything that had ever gone wrong in your life, or had ever laid a finger on you, Lucy felt the panacea rush through her veins, warm and pulsating with life, making every molecule in her body sing with joy, all her pain vanishing as her heart thrummed in her chest.

Strong arms held her, cradled her as she drank from—her lips were latched tight to flesh—someone’s wrist. 

“That’s enough,” a man’s voice Lucy knew she should recognize said.  “Any more and she might…”  He didn’t finish.  He pulled his wrist from her grasp, eliciting a whimper from Lucy’s lips.  He gathered her up in his strong arms and moved them both effortlessly through the ruins of the room, through the gaping hole in the wall, and out into the cool night.

*****

Time flickered by and Lucy now felt warm all over, the wondrous taste still in her mouth, and everything that had hurt wasn’t hurting anymore.  She realized she was so warm because she was pressed against Gabriel’s naked chest, his strong arms wrapped protectively around her.  She sighed as she indulged in the thought that she’d died and gone to heaven, and in heaven Gabriel was naked, at least from the waist up.

Lucy opened her eyes a little more and saw they were riding in the back of car, a sedan with tinted windows.  Delia’s brother, Vin, was driving.  Lucy felt the car sway as Vin zigzagged through traffic, making her hold tighter to Gabriel’s bare torso.  Glancing up to the driver’s seat again, Lucy suddenly felt a jolt of astonishment.  Vin had a white linen handkerchief wrapped around his wrist.  Lucy’s stomach lurched with revulsion as she realized what had happened.

It hadn’t been some dream, or a trick of the mind.  Vin had fed her his own blood, probably saving her life…but was she really alive anymore? 

“Am I a vampire now?” Her stomach did another flip, and her heart started really thumping.  She didn’t care that one of them had saved her life or not, becoming fangy and dead and—well, she just couldn’t get past the whole
dead
thing—just wasn’t in her life plan.

Delia’s brother finally spoke, his voice silky and smooth, and irritatingly calm.  “It takes far more than drinking a little blood to make the change.”  He gave her a wink as he gazed at her through the rear view mirror.  His eyes were the same blue as Delia’s, yet they were not cold as ice.  No, they were liquid blue heat, smoldering as he gazed at her.  “So, do not worry.”

“You’ll be fine,” Gabriel said, holding her closer.  Lucy took a deep breath and snuggled into his bare, ever so warm flesh.  But then she saw Delia lying in the front passenger seat beside Vin.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Lucy blurted out, an edge of hysteria to her voice.  Her entire body jerked as her eyes snapped open and her heartbeat began to race again.

“I think she’s asleep,” Vin said neutrally.

“And I so was hoping for ‘she’s dead’ to pop out of your mouth.”  All of a sudden Lucy felt like an ungrateful child, talking to Vin like that.  After all, he’d literally saved her life.

He acted as if he hadn’t heard her, saying: “Would this be your doing?”

Gabriel turned and looked to Lucy with a confused expression on his gorgeous face.

“Yeah,” Lucy mumbled, “I’m surprised it stuck.”

Out of nowhere Lucy felt something cool and silky move over her, slipping effortlessly into her consciousness.  It was lust and wanting, and an acute hunger.  And it wasn’t hers.  Instantly she knew she was feeling Vin’s emotions, and no sooner did she try to recoil from them than she heard the vampire’s thoughts, as clear as if he’d whispered them in her ear.

Her power is extraordinary.  I’ll have to keep an eye on her.
  Then, with a frantic flash of images, all of them of her, reflected through the yearning of his mind, he thought: 
Would I kill to be with her?

Lucy’s entire body tightened until she was sure she’d break apart in Gabriel’s arms.  She’d seen in his thoughts that he wanted to bed her, and he wanted to eat her—drink her, whatever—quite literally.  She knew without knowing that his thirst for her blood, and his attraction to her and to her very scent, was overwhelming—just being in the confined space of the car with her, even with Gabriel there, was almost unbearable.

He’d kill me in an instant…or worse…

Lucy was hyperventilating and trembling when Gabriel pulled her closer, pressing his soft, warm lips to her forehead.  “I won’t let anything hurt you,” he whispered, his breath warm and tickling against the flesh of her ear and neck.  “I promise.”

Lucy snuggled deeply into Gabriel’s naked flesh, the thick slabs of super-heated muscle.  She wanted to be home.  She wanted to see her grandmother and her mother…hell, she even wanted to see Seth…

But most of all Lucy wanted for what she felt right then—in Gabriel’s arms—to be real.

She caught Vin looking back at her again through the rearview mirror
.  Just keep your eyes on the road, and on your comatose psychopath of a sister.

Lucy already knew Delia wouldn’t stay asleep forever.

***End***

Thank you!

Check Out
Not Dead Yet: A Lucy Hart, Deathdealer Novel.  Book Two

I hope you enjoyed my book :-).  If you have a moment, please help others enjoy this as well.

Lend it.  This e-book is lending-enabled, so please, share it with a friend.

Review it.  Help other readers choose what to read—tell them why you liked this book.

If you leave a review, please email me and I’ll send you a free copy of
Min’s Vampire
as a small thank you.

Contact me at
[email protected]
or at my blog eva-loves-vamps.blogspot.com

Check out the sequel to Better Off Dead,
Not Dead Yet: A Lucy Hart, Deathdealer Novel.  Book Two

Also check out my adult paranormal romance
Min’s Vampire
.

One Too Many Men

By

Mercy Walker

One Too Many Men

Copyright © 2012, Mercy Walker

Kindle
Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Kindle and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

The dream came, and so did those hands, strong and yet so gentle.  I could feel the weight of the body they were attached to, sitting on the bed next to me.  I could feel our bare hips touch. 

I lay there in mute ecstasy, unable to ask him who he was...or to even rub harder.  Yet as if he could read my thoughts he indeed rubbed harder.  Slowly he worked down my back, caressing down my every curve and muscle.  When he got to my butt he pressed into the muscles hard, making me squirm.  His hands stroked my flesh as they gently pulled me over to lie on my back. 

I shivered and moaned as he moved himself atop me, his body, and his naked flesh sliding over my own.  He looked deep into my eyes as I felt his manhood push against my hungry opening.  I groaned as he pushed into me, and just as he leaned down to kiss me...

I woke up.

*****

Chapter 1

Running late for Sunday brunch with my Mother, our usual weekly date, I pulled my unruly red curls back into a ponytail, trying to stamp my feet into a pair of boots that had shrunk.  I’d recklessly walked through the park during a rainstorm in them.  They’d been cheap shoes, but leather was leather, and ultimately unforgiving.  And since I’m not much for shopping I’d been stuffing my feet into them for three weeks running.

Making a slow lap around my apartment my Mother was appraising me through what she saw.  Like a general inspecting the troops, or Martha Stewart devising a plan of attack before redecorating. 

I was nothing like her.  She was elegant and always dressed impeccably, her shoulder length silver hair never out of place--she’d long ago stopped dying it, enjoying the contradiction between her hair and her smooth, wrinkle-free face.  And her makeup was always flawless.

I on the other hand was unconcerned with clothes and fashion, and I never wore makeup.   Always felt like wearing a mask.

Mother had been trying to make a lovely young lady out of me since I was six, and finally seemed to give up when I graduated high school.  But then as soon as I graduated from college she started trying again, in earnest.

Hearing her cluck her tongue I knew she’d found something that was an assault to her fine nature.  I didn’t look to see, I knew she’d bring it to my attention sooner or later.  Mother walked up to me with something in her hand--half brown and half an unhealthy looking green--all hanging limply over the sides of a brightly decorated clay pot.

“You spend the same amount of time and effort on your love life,”  she said with a bluntness that wasn’t at all like her usual polite, tactful self.  She shook her head and pitched the half-dead plant into the nearest wastebasket, brushing her fingers clean of the unsightly mess.  “No wonder they’re both DOA. “ 

I hardly remembered even owning the plant, but her words somehow inextricably connected that forgotten and neglected thing to me.  The thunk it made against the metal bottom of the basket echoed sickeningly through my chest.

“Mother, that’s ... that’s just silly.”  I could hear the doubt in my voice.  Something old crept out of a dark corner of my mind, something I’d pushed there long ago, something that made my skin prickle and my breath catch.  So I didn’t look at it, just pushed the damn thing back in its corner.  “Plants are a tester for whether to get a pet, not for--”

“Yes, yes,” Mother cut across me.  “If you can’t keep a plant alive, then you can’t take care of a pet...and the same goes for a pet versus baby thing too.”  She tapped out a long thin cigarette and lit it up, knowing full well that I detested smoke.  She saw the look on my face and gave me one of her pitch perfect exacerbated looks that always said
Why do I even bother?

I never got her, she never understood me.

“For god’s sake, Lucy, I bought that thing for you just two weeks ago!”

I looked down into the wastebasket--nothing could turn that brown in two weeks.

Mother started for the door.  “Never heard of anyone killing a spider plant before.”  She pulled open the door, checked her watch then rolled her eyes at me.  “I haven’t all day.  Our reservation is in twenty minutes.”

*****

After lunch at Bergdorf’s we fell into our usual pace as we strode through the store and Mother shopped.  She moved swiftly through departments, scanning everything and only stopping when something new and desirable came into sight.  Always making her decisions quickly, no matter what the item cost.  I tried never to think too hard on how much money she spent each outing.

As we approached the shoe department I said I needed to look for some shoes.  I thought, since I have to be here--attendance at Bergdorf’s on Sunday is as mandatory for Mother as church is to the rest of the planet--I might as well find something that I don’t have to work up a sweat getting my feet into.

I caught the surprised, almost happy look on Mother’s face, but then she saw I was heading for sneakers and athletic wear instead of heels and Italian leather.  She moved off to the cosmetics counters, acting like she didn’t even know me, which made me smile.

“Look, I actually bought something!”  I said seven minutes later, shaking my very first Bergdorf’s shopping bag at Mother. 

She gave me a wan smile and her eyes became slits as she looked down and saw I was already wearing the cross trainers.  “I didn’t think they even carried such things here.”  She turned to the pretty, enthusiastic young thing that was trying to sway her into buying the new Jennifer Lopez perfume.  “First tennis shoes and now this celebrity toilet water.”  She waved her hands dismissively at the girl and the perfume.  “Maybe I should start going to Sacks on Sunday.”  And she walked off to the jewelry counter, leaving the young sales girl looking on the verge of tears.