And yet the freaky thing was the unfreaky.
That and this sexual-attraction thing he had going on.
My hair? she said.
Yeah . . . he whispered. Ill take care of it.
His hands did not tremble ever so slightly. Nope. They did not.
They shook like a motherfucker.
The end of the braid was tied with a length of the softest fabric hed ever felt. It wasnt cotton; it wasnt silk. . . . It was something hed never seen before, and his keen surgeons fingers seemed sloppy and too rough on the stuff as he worked at the winding knot. And then her hair . . . good God, her wavy black hair made that cloth feel like nettles in comparison.
Inch by inch, he separated the tripart weave, the waves both slick and clinging. And because he was a bastard, all he could think about was the shit falling over his bare chest . . . his abs . . . his cock
Thats far enough, she said.
Damn straight it was. Yanking his inner manwhore back to the land of polite conversating, he forced his hands to stop. Even halfway undone, the reveal was astounding. If she was beautiful all tied up, she was utterly resplendent with those waves curling around her waist.
Braid it in, please, she said, holding his card out with her lax hand. That way no one will find it.
He blinked and thought, Well, duh. There was no way in hell the Goateed Hater would be cool with his sister reaching out and touching her surgeon
Not touching, he corrected himself.
Well, maybe a little touching. Like he could just do her. Er . . . touch her.
Time to shut it, Manello, even though youre not talking out loud.
You are brilliant, he said. Altogether smart.
That got her to smile, and file that under Holy Shit. Those incisors of hers were sharp and white and long . . . and evolutionarily designed for striking at the throat.
An orgasm tingled in the tip of his arousal
And at that moment a frown passed over her face.
Oh, mannnn. Ah . . . can you read minds?
When I am stronger, yes. But your scent just grew more intense.
So she was making him sweat and somehow knew it. Except . . . he got the feeling she was clueless as to the why, and wasnt that as tantalizing as the rest of her: She was utterly guileless as she stared up at him.
Then again, she might well not think of him sexually because he was a human. And hello, shed just gotten out of the OR, so this was hardly spring break on Myrtle Beach.
Manny cut off his second interior convo and folded his business card in half. The good news about all her hair was that it was the work of a moment to camo his info in the braid. When he was finished, he rewrapped the cloth and tied a bow; then he carefully set the length down beside her on the bed.
I hope you use it, he said. I really do.
Her smile was so sad that it told him his chances were not all that hot, but come on. Contact between the two species was obviously not on their hit list or the term blood bank would have totally different connotations.
But at least she had his info.
What do you think will happen? she asked, nodding down at her legs.
His eyes followed her lead. I dont know. The rules are obviously different with you . . . so anything is possible.
Look at me, she said. Please.
He cracked a smile. Never thought Id say this . . . but I dont want to. He braced himself, but couldnt make the shift up to her face quite yet. Just promise me something.
What may I grant you?
Call me if you can.
I shall.
She didnt mean it, however. He wasnt sure how he knew that, but he was damn certain. Why she was keeping the card, though? Not a clue.
He glanced at the door and thought of Jane. Shit, he should apologize in person for being a little bitch about all this. Before you do it, I need to go
I wish I could leave something of myself behind. With you.
Manny snapped back around and locked his eyes on her. Anything. I want anything you can give me.
The words were a dark growl, and he was very aware that he was talking sexuallyand how much of a pig did that make him?
Except anything tangible . . . She shook her head. It would be of harm to you.
He stared at her strong, beautiful face . . . and lingered on her lips. I have an idea.
Whatever would you like? The innocence in her stare gave him pause. And lit up his libido like a bonfire.
Not like it needed the help.
How old are you? he asked abruptly. He might be a letch, but he didnt do underage anything. She was sure as hell built like an adult, but who knew what their maturity rate was
I am three hundred and five years of age.
Blink. Blink. Annnnnnd one more for good measure. Sure as shit that had to be of age, he thought. So youre marriageable?
I am. I am not with a male, however.
So there was a God. I know what I want, then. Her. Naked. All over him. But hed settle for a hell of a lot less.
What?
A kiss. He held up his hands. Doesnt have to be all hot and heavy. Just . . . a kiss.
When she didnt reply, he wanted to kick his own ass. And thought seriously of turning himself in to that brother of hers for the beating he deserved.
Show me how? she whispered.
Does your kind not . . . kiss? God only knew what they did. But if any parts of the legend held true, sex was in the repertoire big-time.
They do. I just never have beforeAre you ill? She reached out with her hand. Healer?
He opened his eyes . . . which evidently had slammed shut. Let me ask you something. Have you ever been with a man?
Never with a human man. And . . . not with a male, either.
Mannys cock just about blew its top off. Which was nuts. It had never mattered to him before whether a woman had been with someone . . . or not. Actually, the kind of chicks he usually went for had lost their virginity in their early teensand never looked back.
Paynes clear, pale eyes stared up at him. Your scent is even stronger.
Probably because hed broken out in a sweat trying not to orgasm.
I like it, she added in a deeper voice.
There was an electric moment between them, one that he could not believe would be erased by any mind-over-gray-matter parlor trick. And then her lips parted and her pink tongue came out to wet her mouth . . . as if she were imagining something that made her thirsty.
I think I want to taste you, she said.
Right. Fuck kissing. If she wanted to eat him raw he was down for it. And that was before he watched the tips of her white fangs drop even farther from her upper jaw.
Manny could feel himself panting, but he couldnt hear a thing as the blood roared in his ears. Goddamn it, he was on the verge of losing controland not in a metaphoric sense. He was literally a heartbeat away from stripping the blankets off her body and mounting her. Even though she was in traction. And had never been with anyone before. And wasnt his kind.
It took all he had in him to stand up and step back.
Manny cleared his throat. Twice. I think Id better take a rain check.
Rain check?
Later.
Instantly, her face changed, the lovely lines tightening up and hiding the fragile passion that had bled through her features. But . . . of course. Indeed.
He hated hurting her, but there was no way to explain how badly he wanted her without making it pornographic. And she was a virgin, for Gods sake. Who deserved better than him.
He took one last lingering look at her and told his brain to remember it. Somehow, he needed to not lose her. Do what you have to. Now.
Her eyes drifted down the length of him and lingered at his hips. When he realized she was looking at his sex, which was standing at attention and then some, he discreetly hid what was going on beneath his scrubs with his hands.
His voice got hoarse. Youre killing me here. I cant be trusted with you right now. So youve got to do it. Please. God, just do
ELEVEN
Ravasz. Sbarduno. Grilletto. Trekker.
The word trigger banged around Vs skull in all the languages he could put it into, his brain spicin his vocabulary up for shits and gigglesbecause it was either that or the thing would cannibalize itself.
As he rocked his Google Translate, his feet took him through his penthouse at the Commodore over and over again, his relentless pacing turning the place into a multimillion-dollar hamster-wheel equivalent.
Black walls. Black ceiling. Black floor. Night view of Caldwell that was never what he came here for.
Through the kitchen, through the living room, through the bedroom and back.
Again. And again.
In the light of black candles.
Hed bought the condo about five years ago, when the building was still under construction. As soon as the skeleton had risen down by the river, hed been determined to own one-half of the top of the skyscraper. But not as some kind of homehed always had a place away from where he slept. Even before Wrath had consolidated the Brotherhood into Dariuss old mansion, V had been in the habit of keeping where he crashed and stashed his weapons separate from his . . . other activities.
On this night, feeling as he did, the fact that he had come here was both logical and ludicrous.
Over the decades and centuries, hed developed not only a reputation in the race, but a stable of males and females who needed what he had to give. And as soon as hed taken possession of this unit, hed brought them here to this black hole for a very specific kind of sex.
Here, hed shed their blood.
And hed made them scream and cry out.
And hed fucked them or had them fucked.
V paused by his worktable, the old wood battered and marked not just from the tools of his trade, but from blood and orgasms and wax.
God, sometimes the only way to know how far youd come was to return to where you once had been.
Reaching forward with his gloved hand, he took hold of the thick leather bindings he used to keep his subs where he wanted them.
Had used, he corrected himself. As in past tense. Now that he had Jane, he didnt do those things anymorehadnt had the impulse.
Glancing over at the wall, he measured his collection of toys: Whips and chains and barbed wire. Clamps and ball gags and razor blades. Floggers. Lengths of chain.
The games he playedhad playedwere not for the faint of heart or the beginners or the casually curious. For hard-core subs, there was such a fine line between sexual release and deathboth got you off, but the latter was your last shot. Literally. And he was the ultimate master, capable of taking others where they needed to go . . . and one thin inch past that.
Which was why they all came for him.
Had come for him
To him, he corrected.
Fuck.
And that was why his relationship with Jane had been a revelation. With her in his life, he hadnt felt the burning need for any of this. Not for the relative anonymity, not for the control he exerted over his subs, not for the pain he enjoyed inflicting on himself, not for that sense of power or the pounding releases.
After all this time, hed thought hed been transformed.
Wrong.
That internal switch was still with him, and it had been flipped to the on position.
Then again, the urge to commit matricide was stressful as shitwhen you couldnt act on it.
V leaned in and fingered a leather flogger that had stainless-steel balls tied on its ends. As the lengths filtered through the fingers of his ungloved hand, he wanted to throw up . . . because standing here, he would have given anything for a slice of what hed had before
No, wait. As he stared at his table, he revised that. He wanted to be what he once had had. Before Jane, hed had sex as a Dom because it was the only way hed felt safe enough to get through the actand part of him had always wondered, especially as he was cracking the whip, so to speak, why his subs had wanted what hed given them.
Now he had a pretty good idea: What was banging around his inner skin was so toxic and violent, it needed a release valve that was cut from its own cloth. . . .
He walked over to one of his black candles without being aware that his shitkickers were crossing the floor.
And then the thing was against his palm before he even knew he was gripping it.
His craving brought the flame upward . . . and then he tipped the lit tip toward his chest, hot black wax hitting his collarbone and rivering down to streak under his muscle shirt.
Closing his eyes, he let his head fall back as a hiss sucked through his fangs.
More wax on his bare skin. More sting.
As he got hard, half of him was on board and the other half felt like a total skeez. His gloved hand had no problems with a split personality, however. It went for the button fly on his leathers and sprang his cock.
In the candlelight, he watched himself bring the candle down and hold it over his erection . . . and then tilt the lit wick toward the floor.
A black tear slipped free of the heat source and went into a free fall
Fuck . . .
When his lids loosened enough so that he could open them, he looked down to see the hardened wax on the rim of his head, the little line of it paving the way to where it had dropped off.
This time he moaned deep in his throat as he lowered the candle tipbecause he knew what was coming.
More moaning. More wax. A loud curse that was followed by another hiss.
There was no need to go pneumatic. The pain was enough, the rhythmic drop on his cock shooting electric shocks into his balls and the muscles of his thighs and ass. Periodically, he moved the flame up and down his shaft to get clean shots at fresh flesh, his arousal leaping every time it got hit . . . until there had been enough foreplay.
Sweeping his free hand under his sac, he went vertical with his sex.
The wax hit right on the sweet spot, and the sharp agony was so intense, he nearly went down on the floorbut the orgasm was what saved his legs from going loose, the power of the release stiffening him from head to foot as he came hard.
Black wax everywhere.
Come all over his hand and his clothes.
Just like the good ol days . . . except for one thing: It was really fucking hollow. Oh, wait. That had been part of the GOD, too. The difference was that back then, he hadnt known there was something else out there. Something like Jane
The sound of his phone chiming made him feel like hed been shot through the head, and even though it wasnt loud, the quiet shattered like a mirror, the shards of it showing him a reflection of himself he didnt want to see: Happily mated, he was nonetheless here in his chamber of perversion, getting himself off.
He hauled back and Curt Schillinged the candle across the room, the flame extinguishing in midflightwhich was the only reason the whole fucking place didnt get burned down.
And that was before he saw who the call was from.
His Jane. No doubt with a report from the human hospital. For fucks sake, a male of worth would have been outside the OR, waiting for his sister to come around, supporting his mate. Instead, hed been banished for being out of control, and had come here to spend quality time with his black wax and his hard-on.
He hit send as he stuffed his still-hard cock back in his leathers. Yeah.
Pause. During which he had to remind himself that she couldnt read minds, and thank fuck for it. Christ, what had he just done?
Are you okay? she said.
Not in the slightest. Yeah. Hows Payne? Please let this not be bad news.
Ah . . . she made it through. Were en route back to the compound. She did well and Wrath fed her. Her vitals are stable and she seems to be relatively comfortable, although theres no telling what the long term result is going to be.
Vishous closed his eyes. At least shes still alive.
And then there was a whole lot of silence, broken only by the quiet whir of the vehicle she was traveling in.
Eventually, Jane said, At least were over the first hurdle, and the operation went as smoothly as it couldManny was brilliant.
V judiciously ignored that comment. Any problems with the hospital staff?
None. Phury worked his magic. But in case theres someone or something we missed, its probably a good idea to monitor the record systems for a while.
Ill take care of that.
When are you coming home?
Vishous had to grit his teeth as he did up the buttons of his fly. In about a half hour, he was going to have a ball so blue it was a U of K fan: Once was never enough for him. It took five or six times to get him what he needed on an average nightand there was nothing even close to average doing right now.
Are you at the penthouse? Jane said quietly.
Yeah.
There was a tense pause. Alone?
Well, the candle was an inanimate object. Yeah.
Its okay, V, she murmured. Youre allowed to think like you are right now.
How do you know whats on my mind.
Why would there be anything else?
Jesus . . . what a female of worth. I love you.
I know. And right back at you. Pause. Do you wish . . . you were there with someone else?
The pain in her voice was nearly eclipsed by composure, but to him the emotion was bullhorn clear. Thats in the past, Jane. Trust me.
I do. Implicitly. You would cut off your good hand first.
Then why did you ask, he thought as he squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head. Well, duh. She knew him too well. God . . . I dont deserve you.
Yes, you do. Come home. See your sister
You were right to tell me to go. Im sorry I was an asshole.
Youre allowed to be. This is stressful stuff
Jane?
Yes?
He attempted to form words and failed, the silence stretching out between them once more. Fucking hell, no matter how much he tried to put sentences together, he found that there was no magical combination of syllables to properly phrase what was in him.
Then again, maybe it was less a function of vocabulary, and more a case of what hed just done to himself: He felt like he had something to confess to her, and he couldnt quite do it.
Come home, Jane cut in. Come see her, and if Im not in the clinic, find me.
All right. I will.
Its going to be okay, Vishous. And you need to remember something.
Whats that?
I know what I married. I know who you are. Theres nothing thats going to shock menow hang up the phone and get home.
As he told her good-bye and hit end, he wasnt sure about the noshock thing. Hed surprised himself tonight, and not in a good way.
Putting his phone away, he rolled up a cigarette and patted his pockets for a lighter before remembering hed tossed his Bic POS back at the training center.
His head cranked around and he looked at one of those goddamn black candles. With no other option, he went over and leaned in to light his hand-rolled.
The idea of going back to the compound was the right idea. A good, solid plan.
Too bad it made him want to scream until he lost his voice.
After he finished his smoke, he meant to extinguish the candles and go straight home. He honestly did.
But he didnt make it.
Manny was dreaming. Had to be.
He was dimly aware that he was in his office, lying facedown on the leather couch that he regularly crashed on for REM catch-ups. As always, there was a set of surgical scrubs wadded under his head for a pillow, and hed kicked off his Nikes.
All this was normal, business as usual.
Except then his little nap warped on him . . . and suddenly he wasnt alone. He was on top of a woman
As he reared back in surprise, she stared up at him with icy eyes that were blazing hot.
How did you get in here? he asked hoarsely.
I am in your mind. Her accent was foreign and sexy as hell. I am inside of you.
And then it dawned on him that beneath his body, she was so very naked, and warmand holy Christ, even with his confusion, he wanted her.
It was the only thing that made any sense.
Teach me, she said darkly, her lips parting, her hips rolling under his own. Take me.
Her hand moved between the two of them and found his erection, rubbing at it, making him moan.
I am empty without you, she said. Fill me. Now.
With an invitation like that, he didnt give anything else a second thought. Fumbling around, he shoved his scrubs down his thighs and then. . .
Oh, fuck, he groaned as his hard cock slipped up her slick core.
One shift over and he would be buried deep, but he forced himself not to breach her sex. He was going to kiss her first, and more to the point, he was going to do that right because . . . shed never been kissed before
Why did he know that?
Who the fuck cared.
And her mouth wasnt the only place he was going to go with his lips.
Pulling away a little, he ran his eyes down her long neck to her collarbone . . . and went even loweror at least tried to.
Which was his first clue that something was off. Although he could see every detail of her strong, beautiful face and her long, braided black hair, the sight of her breasts was hazy and staying that way: No matter how much he frowned, there was no clarity coming. But whatever, she was perfect to him no matter what she looked like.
Perfect for him.
Kiss me, she breathed.
His hips jerked at the sound of her voice, and as his erection slid against the very heart of her, the friction made him groan. God, the feel of her pressed up tight to him, with the head of his cock having parted her and burrowed in, searching for that sweetest spot. . . .
Healer, she gritted as she arched back, her tongue coming out and dragging over her lower lip
Fangs.
Those two white tips were fangs, and he froze: What was underneath him and ready for him was not human.
Teach me . . . take me . . .
Vampire.
He should have been shocked and terrified. But he wasnt. If anything, what she was made him want inside her with a desperation that left him in a sweat. And there was something else . . . it made him want to mark her.
Whatever the hell that meant.
Kiss me, healer . . . and dont stop.
I wont, he moaned. Im not ever going to stop.
As he dipped his head to bring his lips to hers, his cock went off in an explosion, the orgasm shooting out of him and going all over her
Manny came awake on a gasp that was loud enough to rouse the dead.
And oh, shit, he was coming hard, his hips grinding into the sofa as delicious, hazy memories of his virgin lover made him feel like her hands were all over his skin. Fucking A; even though the dream was clearly over, the orgasm kept coming until he had to lock his teeth and jack one of his knees up tight, the jerking pumps of his cock fisting the heavy muscles of his thighs and chest until he couldnt breathe.
When it was all over, he sagged face-first into the cushions and did his best to grab for some oxygen, because he had a feeling round two was going to get its groove on soon. Tendrils of the dream tantalized him and made him want to go back into that moment that had not existed and yet felt as real as the consciousness he had now. Reaching into his memory banks, he tugged at the filaments of where hed been, bringing the female back into
The headache that plowed into his temples all but knocked him outsure as hell, if he hadnt already been horizontal, he would have landed on the damn floor.
Fuuuuck . . .
The pain was astounding, like someone had nailed him on the skull with a lead pipe, and it was a while before he had the strength to shove himself onto his back and try to sit up.
The first attempt at vertical didnt go well. The second was successful only because he braced his arms on either side of his torso to keep from pulling a down-and-out again. As his head hung like a deflated balloon off his shoulders, he stared at the Oriental rug and waited until he felt like he could make a beeline for the bathroom and fire back some Motrin.
Hed had these headaches a lot. Right before Jane had died
The thought of his former chief of trauma brought on a new wave of someone-please-shoot-me-between-the-eyeballs.
Breathing shallowly and purposely thinking of absolutely, positively, fucking nothing somehow got him through the attack. When the agony had mostly passed, he lifted his head experimentally . . . just in case a minute change in altitude brought on another pounder.
The antique clock behind his desk read four sixteen.
Four a.m.? What in the hell had he done all night since leaving the horse-pital?
As he thought back, he remembered driving out of Queens after Glory had come around and his intention had been to go home. Clearly, that hadnt happened. And he had no clue how long hed been asleep in his office. Looking at his scrubs, there were drops of blood here and there . . . and his kicked-off Nikes were in the blue booties he always operated in. Apparently, hed worked on a patient
A fresh flare of pain burst into his mind, causing him to brace every muscle in his body and fight for control. Knowing that biofeedback was his only friend, he let all cognitive processes go lax as he breathed slowly and evenly.
Focusing on the clock, he watched the hands click to seventeen . . . then eighteen . . . then nineteen. . . .
Twenty minutes later, he was finally able to stand up and lurch over to his bathroom. Inside, the private room was Ali Baba gorgeous, with enough marble, crystal and brass to be castle-worthyor in the case of tonight, make him curse at all the bright-brights.
Reaching in through the glass door of the shower, he cranked the faucets on and then he headed to the sink to pop open the mirror and grab the bottle of Motrin. Five tablets at once was more than the recommended dosage, but he was a doctor, damn it, and he was advising himself to take more than just two.
The hot water was a blessing, rinsing away not only the remnants of that incredible release, but also the strain of the last twelve hours. God . . . Glory. He hoped like hell she was doing well. And that female hed op
As he felt another stinger coming on, he dropped whatever thought had been about to take root like it was poison and focused only on the way the spray hit the nape of his neck and split off his shoulders, falling down his back and his chest.
His cock was still hard.
Rock-hard.
The irony that the damn thing remained all wakey-wakey, in spite of the fact that his other head was totally scrambled, was no laughing matter. The last thing he felt like doing was more palm aerobics, but he had a feeling this arousal he was rocking was going to be like lawn sculpture: there for the duration unless he took care of it.
When the soap slipped off the brass holder and landed on his foot like an anvil, he cursed and hopped around . . . then bent down and picked the bar up.
Slippery. Oh, so slippery.
After putting the Dial back where it belonged, he let his hand go south to grip his shaft. As he drew his palm up and back, the warm water and the slick, soapy routine were effective, but still a poor substitute for what it had felt like to be against that womans
Sharp. Shooter. Right through his frontal lobe.
God, it was like there were armed guards surrounding any thoughts of her.
With a curse, he shut his brain down because he knew he had to finish what hed started. Bracing an arm against the marble wall, he let his head drop while he pumped himself. Hed always had a tremendous sex drive, but this was something else entirely, a hunger that punched through any veneer of civility and ran down deep to some core of himself that was a total news flash.
Shit . . . As the orgasm hit, he gritted his teeth and let loose against the flushed walls of the shower. The release was just as strong as the one on the couch had been, sacking his body until his cock wasnt the only thing twitching uncontrollably: Every muscle he had seemed to be involved in the release, and he had to bite his lip to keep from yelling.
When he finally surfaced from the rock-em, sock-em, his face was mashed up against the marble and he was breathing like hed sprinted from one side of Caldwell to the other.