Your Red Always (23 page)

He laughs at me reaction. “I’m twenty-eight, Elizabeth,” he says. “I will always be stuck on that timeline. It’s when I died,” he explains. “I was First Lieutenant in the US army. Sent along with my second Laurie, and Corporals O’Leary and Blackstock, on a covert mission,” he explains, as I struggle to listen. “During the Balkans battle in Romania, I was given top secret orders to gather Intel on a weapon that the enemy used to kill hundreds of soldiers. I swore on oath that the information I received, would stay with me only. Until I returned to debrief my Commander.” 

“The first world war?” I ask.

“Yeah.” He moves a little closer. “When we were air dropped, the battle was at its peak. I was supposed to meet with one of our allies, a Sgt Balan, out in the field. But we had no chance of finding him in the carnage.”

He gets up from the sofa and pours me another glass of wine. I must be giving off signals that I need it.

He returns to his seat. “My men and I moved back with the Romanian army into the Carpathian Mountains.” He shuts his eyes briefly. “The enemy had us surrounded. Connor was shot first, then Laurie, and Ben. All I kept thinking was, why is it taking so long. I’m done. Just shoot me already.” He grinds his teeth. “Then I saw them, the black shadows flitting in and out of the darkness, and heard the screams coming through the whiteout. I ran, that’s all I could do. Then I got what I asked for, a bullet to my chest. If I were to die, I wanted to die with my men.”

Wow. I need a break. I have a headache and I’m beginning to feel nauseous again. I put my glass on the floor and stand. He glances up at me, sensing I’m not absorbing this very well. 

I walk by the kitchen with my view falling onto my escape route. But I take a different path, an illogical path, and pace swiftly into the guest bedroom. I just need a five minute breather.

I lock myself in the bathroom and turn on the hot water. I swill my face and rub away the eyeliner that has stained my cheeks. To stop him interrupting my subconscious talking sense into me, I leave the tap running. 

I can see fireworks across the city through the walled window. I forgot its new year’s eve. I forgot what happened at the party. God, this has to be the most peculiar night of my life.

When there is water running, or sound coming from the bathroom, it means do not disturb. But I swear I’ve just heard a small tap. It happens again; this time louder. I haven’t had my five minutes yet, and I’m still wrestling with my judgement.

“Elizabeth, you having a bath in there,” Adrien asks through the door.

I smile spontaneously. Is he being serious? I’ve just discovered what he is, and he thinks I’ll be taking a nice hot relaxing bath, overlooking the city.

I cautiously open the door to see him stood by the bed. He has to finish what he started. I need to know the truth, no matter how far-fetched it is. 

He has my drink in his hand. I take it from him and go to sit in the black leather chair near the fire. I can’t go near that bed. It will set off wild thoughts and memories. I need to take a step back from his sexiness, and be as cogent as possible under these bizarre circumstances. But hell, is it bad that I still want to enjoy his hot body?

“Okay, I’m ready.”

“For what?” He flirts.

“Not the best time to be trying it on.” I blink and nod. “How did you end up like this?”

He sits on the bed, disappointed that I have now finally grasped the art of control around him.

“The shadows were no shadows.” He takes a swig of his beer. “I thought I was in hell, dead, suffering the most excruciating pain you can possibly imagine. It wasn’t from the bullet. It was a hunger so intense, I wanted to rip off my own skin.” His jawline presses. “I was locked in chains, desperate to quench the thirst. That’s when I met my creator, my Sire, Selene. She bit me out in the field and had my existence in her hands.” He sighs. “She gave me a choice, either be turned, or die. That’s when I heard Ben howling. I had to exist somehow, so I consented.” I watch the horror wash over his eyes. “She gave me her essence, her own dark blood, then fed me with fresh. At first I didn’t understand why the odour sent me crazy. I didn’t know I wasn’t human. But when I drank, it all made sense.” 

“So, she is also a Vampire?” God, I’m never going to get used to saying that.

“She’s a Pure Child. Her sire lineage descends back to the first, Lilith. She is the daughter of Demetrius Valt. A Pure who is over a thousand years old. They’re part of the Sange Pentru, The Order,” he explains. “Unlike me, I am only a Demi, turned Sang by the venom and blood of a Pure.”

Holy shit. The Order, his secret society is not a freemason thing at all. He must have affected my reasoning in a big way. How could I not conclude that signing that paper in my blood was not normal? Oh, that’s right, maybe because Vampires aren’t supposed to exist. And is it wrong that I keep expecting Vlad the impeller to popup into this conversation? I mean it is quite possible considering what I’m hearing.

“So do you kill people?” I nervously ask. “Drink their blood.”

“Really.” He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah… really.” It’s probably the most relative question of the night, and I can’t believe he wasn’t expecting me to bring it up.

He shrugs those strong shoulders. “The Order was formed over eight hundred years ago by the Pure, to try and regain some control over the conflicts between the different strains.”

“Strains?”

“There are two kinds of the Nemuritori.” He arches over clasping his hands over his knees. “The Sang: those who mainly require blood as a life source, but can also gage energy from physical touch. And the Vigore: those who require blood and much more,” he explains. “The Vigore feed from blood, but can also take energy from any living thing. They can manipulate it, and see into your thoughts if you’re not shielded.”

“You… you can see what’s up here?” I nearly squeal in alarm because my thoughts of late have been extremely wicked.

“No,” he says, as I sigh out relief. “Selene is Pure Sang, which makes me the same. We have different attributes. Healing, strength, and speed,” he explains. “The Vigore traits, depend on how much energy they take.”

“Why have I never heard of you before?” I ask. “I mean there’s folk law and stories, but it’s nothing like what you describe.”

“We have rules to fit into society, which means we don’t simply go out hunting humans for blood. We have evolved, learnt control, using donors and organised collections.” He hangs his head and hesitates for a moment. “But I have killed and drunk from the living… Elizabeth.”

I flush and perspire. He has just admitted murder. Damn right I’m feeling rattled and thinking of a way to get out. I stare at down at the floor, anxiously. I cannot look at him.

“When bitten and turned, the awakening period is when a young Nemuritori are at their most dangerous.” I pluck up the courage to look at him. “The appetite sends you into a violent frenzy. You’ll kill; rip off you own limbs to get what you need. I was so sick, retching up what old blood I had left in me. I even chewed off my own fingernails.” I cringe, this is becoming way too graphic for me. “I was being held in a cell below the mountains, as were many others. I bit through my chains and shattered my teeth to get out.”

I gulp, feeling the contents of my stomach making its way up my oesophagus. I cover my mouth and screw up my face, holding in a dry gag.

“Elizabeth.” He stands up. “I’m sorry, but you must understand, I only killed because it wasn’t truly me.” He aims to calm me down.  

“How many… did you murder?”

He paces. “There was a Nazi camp set up twenty miles from the mountains. That’s where I was caught and secured by The Order.” He pauses with guilty eyes.

“How many?” I push him.

He sighs heavy and drops back down onto the mattress. “Fifteen,” he replies, ashamed. “You have to understand. I was fighting against death, being reborn into the darkness. I would have rather died from that bullet, but the Sange Pentru thought me worthy to serve.” His hands animate. “Even more so when they learned the ones I fed off, were holding one of their own. The weapon I was sent to gather info on, was a member of the Sange Pentru. The Nazi’s starved and used him in the war. Demetrious immediately had me down as some superior Sang. He respected me, but I didn’t want it. I murdered those men.”

His body slumps over. I see his ribcage taking in shallow breaths. He’s tearing himself up over what he did. And evil as it was, I hate seeing him like this. 

“And you’ve not killed since?”

“No.” 

I swallow down the nerves. “So, is this why you get sick around me?” 

He sniffs. “You’re so different Elizabeth. When you entered that building, before I even laid eyes on you, your presence stimulated me in ways I couldn’t understand or explain. I didn’t want to feed off you. I wanted to savour every inch of you.”

“Why?”

“I had to have you. When your scent hit me, it changed me completely.” He pauses to watch me blush. “This trapped soul was lost, until you.” He touches his bare chest. “Shit, that sounds absurd to you doesn’t it?”

Blood is whooshing through my body. If he can’t smell it, my longing for him, then there is something very wrong. I sip the last bit of my wine and cough needlessly. They say love is blind, well so is lust, because I still crave him more than ever. Whether it’s seen as wrong or not, I don’t care.

I stand up. Now I need to go to the bed. I put my glass on the mantelpiece and blow out. He observes with eyes all over my yearning skin. I sit by his side as he dips his chin to his chest. Is it so wrong that this is what I want? That regardless of what he is, what he can do, I still find him irresistible.

He sniggers faintly, peering sideways. “You really are something else. You still want to stick around…you know what I did to you in that room?”

I have come to the conclusion that room was designed for a specific purpose. He wanted to taste me and was afraid to tell me the truth. It was a depraved thing to do without me being fully aware. But he didn’t hurt me or leave a mark. He got sick. 

“It was no better than rape, Elizabeth,” he utters in disgrace.

“No… you’re wrong. I think even if I knew what you were back then. I would have still allowed you to do it.”

“Why?”

I flush. “I can’t explain the ways in which… in which I need you.” My heart flaps in trepidation. “You only wanted to test me on your palate, so did I suffice?” For some bizarre reason, I have to know this.

“Jeez,” he hums. “You have no idea how you enthused my taste buds, or what my body experience.” He draws in his rouge bottom lip, recollecting. “But it was meaningless, because the hatred I have with myself for doing it will haunt me always.”

“Adrien… It’s okay.”

He stares directly. “I will never truly be able to give you what you deserve.” He arcs over.

I stand and step before his hunched back. He has activated the raging desire in me, and I’ve lost myself to him again. His tempestuous eyes move up my body and set-off my need to seduce.

“I never asked you to give me anything but yourself,” I say delicately.

I climb and straddle his lap, resting my head upon his. He routes his fingers up the contours of my thighs, resting them firm on my backside. He rubs his nose against mine and bites down on his bottom lip in agitation. My belly turns over as I draw in air, moving my hands higher across his fine chiselled body to cradle his firm jaw. I lean and toy with his cool mouth lightly. His fingers trace up my spine to pull down the zipper of my dress. Oh, his touch on my naked skin delights me. How can this not be right? This is so right and good it’s damn holy.

He tugs my dress over my shoulder as he kisses the flank of my pounding neck. He stops, and slants back. Oh shit. I forgot I’d stuffed the contract down my bra. His forehead lines as he lifts it out. I press my hands over my face. I’m so humiliated. This has definitely took the heat out of the moment.

“Elizabeth.” I puff out, and force one eye open to see his compelling smile. “Fuck the contract.” 

He flings it on the floor, pulling me onto his roused groin. He grips and I rub myself against his growing erection, making my panties damp. I groan with the need to feel skin on skin. I have to get these pants off him. Sweaty hands, do not fail me now. 

I stand as he lays in wait; legs splayed. He watches with urgency, his abdomen elevating with each rash breath. I step out of my dress to fashion my black lace panties. I bend, with the saliva multiplying in my mouth each second. I release his fly’s (thankfully with no fumble) to see his all so sexy second skin black briefs, holding back what I need. Quickly, I steer his jeans and shorts down his legs in one go.

“Elizabeth,” he smiles. “There is no need to rush.”

Oh there damn well is. I need him, but there’s something that I want first. Hell, he’s tasted me, my turn. I drop to my knees as his head hoist up from the bed.

“Elizabeth?”

“Shush.” I giggle a little inside. 

I crawl to the base of the bed watching my target. I push the palms of my hands down on his knees, and rise between his legs. Each lungful I take, I purr. I’m seeping at the thought of using my mouth. I stretch my fingers out and nail from his bellybutton, pubic hair, and over his solid firmness. I encircle my hand around his base, hard. He sits up restlessly, and glares down at me with hungered eyes.