A Mermaid's Ransom

  "Well, most daughters would be self-conscious to have their parents there when what the two of them were thinking about was--"

  "Obvious." Jonah dropped down, crossing his legs Indian-style so he appeared to be sitting on the surface of the waves, though his body moved in rhythm with the current, staying with hers. Swimming to him, she curled her fingers over his calves and laid her head on his knee. He sighed, putting one large hand on her head. "I want her as far as possible from him. I want him dead. He deserves to be dead."

  "I know." Shifting to human form, she pulled herself up and Jonah helped, catching her waist so she could straddle him. Wrapping her legs around his back, she seated herself in the vee of his lap. She grasped the sword harness across his broad shoulders to anchor herself. "We both know life demands a great deal from us all, especially those of us with gifts. Raphael has said for some time she's only tapped a portion of her abilities. As she gets older she'll be likely to trust herself more, let the filters down, increase her range."

  "That I understand. But . . . damn it all." His arms tightened around her body as he pressed his face to her throat, breathed deep, nearly choking on his iron control.

  "We can't stand in the way of this. We can only be here if it goes badly. You know that."

  "Yes. I want to say the hell with all of it, but I do know." He made a low growl of frustration and lifted his head. "But cheerfully clearing out because he wants to ravish my daughter is going too far."

  "You wouldn't have left for that. You left because it was what she wants." She cocked her head. "And you've never done anything cheerfully."

  Jonah gave her a narrow look, but she switched topics. "Would you be willing to lead a delegation to talk to one of the vampires?"

  "What are you thinking?"

  "Mina thinks Dante is about sixty years old. Someone may remember his mother. He can't integrate into the human world, no matter how much he explores it. Like all of us who are something other than human, we need a base of support from those who know who we are." Anna tapped his shoulder thoughtfully. "From the things Mina told me about a vampire's nature, the strict rules of vampire society may help him cope here. And he won't be able to avoid them anyway. Those who try to exist outside Council structure aren't treated well. For that reason, we may want to initiate contact quickly."

  "But he's as much Dark One as he is vampire."

  "It's the vampire side that will matter here. Remember, Mina is Dark Spawn as well, and she conquered that part of herself."

  "She manages it," Jonah corrected. "And David is key to that."

  "Yes, he is." Anna held his gaze and Jonah swore.

  "I don't even want to contemplate that."

  "Neither do I. But you saw how she looked at him."

  "Yes. She's infatuated with a handsome vampire with Dark One blood. At best, he breaks her heart. At worst . . ."

  "Mina said that just because she is young, and expresses her feelings in a youthful way, we shouldn't mistake immature communication with immature feeling. Love isn't always limited by experience. We both know that."

  His jaw tightened. "I can't bear this, Anna. I won't."

  Brushing her knuckles against that set jaw, she drew his gaze back to her. "At best, she rescues his heart from darkness, and he embraces the life that should have been his in this world all along. He learns to cherish her for the gift she is, and they discover a love together that makes every sacrifice worth it. At worst, they go their own ways when their feelings for one another run their course. She herself sees that possibility, and that the most important thing is making sure he can survive here."

  He shook his head. "You always see the best. You saw the bruises on her. The blood. The--"

  "You saw more than that, and so did I. It's why he's still alive." Anna's chin firmed. "If I hadn't seen it, I would have killed him myself."

  Jonah made another incoherent snarl. Grasping the back of her neck, he drew her to his chest. When she spoke again, she did so against his firm flesh. "If Mina can find someone among the vampires who will talk to us, are you willing to go?"

  "Yes. But it will be a moot point if I murder him before then."

  "Even so." She suppressed a smile and straightened. As she did she adjusted her legs around his waist so her heels slid across his buttocks. Leaning back, she arched to put her hair in the water again, fully aware of the upward tilt of her breasts, the jut of her nipples while the seawater waved her hair like fine sea grass across her cheeks beneath the surface. Her lips curved as his hand slid up her abdomen to her left breast, capturing it in a way that caught her breath. His desire for her was evident and reassuring in a way that wrenched her heart and tightened her lower belly. She lifted herself out of the water, came back to his arms as his hands slid over her wet, slick skin.

  "You're trying to distract me."

  "No." She sobered. "For all its frightening fire, passion often ignites from something deeper and more substantial. Something that doesn't make sense at first, but is undeniable, all the same. I know how you feel about this. I feel no differently. But we have to hope." And pray.

  He brought her closer to him with that effortless power that made her muscles weaken. She loved surrendering to him, in all ways. He understood her soul as she understood his. In this moment, as with many others, she thanked the Goddess for it. When she told him so in her mind, he took her mouth in answer. A breath from her lips, though, he stopped. He studied her face in that intent way he had, as if she were always something new for him to learn. "I need you," he said.

  The joy of it leaped inside of her. Anna remembered that she'd once lived with hope when there was no reason to have any. Now she had a wonderful mate and incomparable daughter, blessings she'd earned. It would be all right. It had to be. She wouldn't despair now. "I know. I need you, too. Particularly right now. I'm afraid, Jonah. So afraid for her, because I know we have to let her do this. Help me be less afraid."

  It was the right request, for she knew he would do anything to give her happiness. As his heated mouth closed over hers, she melted into him, taking them both to a place where they could escape their worries, if only for a short while.

  WHEN the door closed, Alexis stood there. Despite the yearning in her body, she found herself swept by uncertainty. She glanced toward the window and saw late afternoon waning toward evening.

  "I believed I'd been tricked, until your sire came for me."

  "I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

  "You've said that twice now. Your father feels you have nothing to . . . apologize for. I agree."

  She looked back at him, met his eyes for the first time. The smile she'd been attempting failed before that crimson penetrating stare. "I went from being your prisoner, dying in your world, to pleading with them not to kill you, to this. Here we are, standing in a normal house, and I don't know what to say at all. Or how I should feel."

  "Do you want me here?"

  "Yes. No. I don't know. Would it make a difference if I didn't?"

  He studied her. "No. Because you would be lying. You fear your feelings more than you fear me."

  "Great. A boyfriend who can literally read my mind. Every woman's dream come true." Pushing her hands through her hair, Alexis wished she'd stop feeling light-headed.

  "You're very weak still. You defied the magic the witch set upon the portal." His mouth tightened. "I'm angry with you for doing that. You're lucky to have survived."

  "You're here because I did it. Wasn't that what you wanted?"

  He blinked. "Your answer . . . it strangely fits."

  "Yes, no and you don't know?" She was able to smile now, though it was tremulous. "I think I understand that. Yes, because no one would want to be there. No, because it's all unfamiliar and you're out of control. And you don't know because you're torn between the two. Right?"

  He lifted a shoulder, but frowned as if that wasn't all of it. "I was told that, while the blood may have hurt you, the mark itself may have helped you survive. Apparent
ly, it is very difficult to kill a vampire's servant."

  "Your mother didn't tell you much about servants."

  "She told me some things." Dante considered that. "But some things she put in my mind had no relevance to my life there. They made no sense to me, so I just pushed them away. The seawitch said it is a bond that cannot be broken."

  As he took a step toward her, she curled a hand in the excess fabric of the sleep shirt. "I was hoping to be dressed when you saw me," she repeated lamely.

  His clothes didn't make him less overwhelming, she realized. Nothing human was this magnificently gorgeous, vibrating with power the way he did. Or maybe it was that when he looked at her like this, her body liquefied, making it hard to--

  His arm shot out, slid around her waist, catching her to him before she buckled. As she laid her head on his chest, his head bent over hers, his lips nuzzling her hair. His palm flattened, his fingers spreading as he held her tightly against him. "I shouldn't do this," she whispered. "I'm supposed to help you. It would be best if we tried to not--"

  He tilted her head up, his thumb pressed under her jaw, close to her pulse. "Now that your body has accepted the mark, my blood is no longer a poison to you. Nourishment and rest will help you recover, but if you wish your energy to return sooner, it will help the most with this weakness."

  She remembered that swirling feeling when he'd given her the third mark, as if their souls were being wound together irrevocably. Now she knew they had been. She wasn't sure how she felt about that, but her current reaction was getting much clearer. He held her so close, her breasts were pressed into his chest, and there was nothing under the sleep shirt. Of course, when she had the thought, he had it, too. The hand not around her waist dipped, slid beneath the hem, and found the bare curve of her buttock. In her human form, they could come together face-to-face for the first time, his body stretched out on hers, weight pinning her down, spreading her open and burrowing deep.

  He lifted her almost before the thought was completed, and took her back to the bed. As he laid her down, she reached up to his face. He caught her wrist, his face questioning, but she merely stretched out her fingers, asking without words. Slowly, he released her, let her lay her hand on his jaw, slide her fingers up into his hair. Her thumb found his mouth, the tip of a fang, the give of a sensual lip.

  "I missed you," she whispered.

  There was no reason for her to pretend otherwise. It was how she felt, no matter how insane it sounded, and he could read her mind anyway. With her abilities, she'd learned early that hiding feelings didn't negate their existence, and in fact often just made them worse. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen. If destiny determined that Dante would break her heart into pieces, he would.

  "I've never done it like this." His brow furrowed. "In fact, until you, I've never done this with anything but a Dark One."

  Lex bit her bottom lip as he slid his hand further under the shirt and found her breast, tracing the curve, making the nipple ache. "You're very good at it, for someone who's never done it."

  "My mother's memories were very vivid in places. She did this often, and she had detailed memories of her best lovers. The things they would do to her."

  "You know, some people might find it a little revolting to see their parents . . . you know. Oh . . ." She whispered it, emitting a tiny moan as he found the nipple, then dipped his head and suckled her through cloth. But I'm not complaining. Oh, Goddess.

  She clutched at him, slipping her thumb beneath the waistband of his jeans, her fingers curling and holding on as she lifted her hips to him, rubbed against his turgid length, straining against the denim.

  Nervous talking was done. She needed him inside with such a desire she could barely speak. When he opened the jeans, pushed them down his hips with her help to get them out of the way, her fingers clawed at his muscular flesh. He came down on her body, pressing her into the mattress, himself between her legs. Catching her hands in one of his, he stretched her arms over her head, tilting her upper body to him. Even as he restrained her, he continued to suckle her through the cotton, one nipple then the other, as she thrashed and rolled against him. The blood in her temples was pounding, her stomach starting to roil. She was going to be too weak for this, damn it.

  He released her hands then, cupping her head to bring her to his throat. Bite hard, Alexis. Use your canines.

  I'll hurt you.

  I welcome pain from you. Bite me now. You will hurt me more if you hesitate and do not bite me as hard as you can.

  Because she inhaled his flesh, and it made her mouth water, she obeyed. He let out a growl as blood filled her mouth. Just as in his world, she was amazed at the taste of it, and wondered if having the marks was what made his blood so appetizing. She drank deep, sensing the strength in the nectar he was offering her, and her body's response rebounded. She had her legs wrapped over his back, working herself against him in mindless, untutored need. When he freed her from his throat with a finger eased into her mouth, she latched onto that, imagining doing it to another part of his body. With an oath, he slid deep inside of her. She cried out, but opened up further to him, tilting instinctively to take him deep.

  From Clara and romance books she'd sighed over, she remembered foreplay descriptions, of drawing out lazy need until it was desperate yearning. Goddess, being around her parents was like being in the front seat of one long foreplay session. But this . . . she had no patience for anything but his cock filling her, completing her, joining them. Perhaps Anna was right, that his growing agitation at their separation, his influence on the marks, did this, but she rejected that because she didn't want it to be chemical. Whatever the reason was, though, it was undeniable.

  Seizing her behind the neck and pulling his hand away, he kissed her, plundering her mouth with ruthless, demanding force. She writhed beneath him, begging for movement, and he answered, beginning to thrust with a force that brought a guttural moan of pleasure from her with every impact.

  She could get pregnant. It was a fleeting thought, but the idea of his child growing inside of her only inflamed her in a shocking way, for she saw it as further proof of their connection, of the bond between them.

  He stopped, framing her face in his hands. The roaring fire in his eyes was so close, searching her face. That tangled confusion of emotions again, and then he renewed his pleasurable assault.

  She was close to climax, but she struggled to hold back, to wait for him. He was having none of it. "Come for me," he whispered, and she was lost, screaming out her orgasm into his mouth as he held her, pumping even harder so she was driven deeper into the mattress. The headboard hit the wall with a force guaranteeing broken drywall. Her cry broke into a series of notes, shrill to pleading, waves of sensation buffeting her and stealing every worry she had.

  Thank the Goddess, it took a while for those waves to stop pounding, to become gentle surf that deposited her weak body on the shore of her present reality. Even then she was slow to orient herself, for he was still moving inside of her, and the friction detonated aftershocks such that she continued to cling to his broad shoulders, tease his skin under her lips, savor the lingering taste of his blood in her mouth.

  While her tissues were still vibrating, he pulled out. Before she could protest the loss, he brought her off the bed, and pushed her to her knees before him.

  "Take me in your mouth as you wished, in your mind," he ordered.

  Though she'd never done it before, she drew him in eagerly, her body still jerking with the aftermath of her climax as his hand fisted in her hair, driving her down on him. Oh, Goddess. She wasn't sure why she'd wanted this so much, but she had. She moved over him the way he'd moved in her, following instinct and his reaction to tell her the right way of it. As his hand spasmed in her hair, she reveled in his grunts and the tremors through his legs, telling her how close he was getting. Her own response leaked on her calves. She was torn between wanting him to come this way, and having him come inside her, that hot,
searing fire branding her, dispelling the emptiness his absence had created.

  This was madness. They knew nothing of each other, but could not get enough of one another, a kinetic spell gone awry. Pulling free, he took her down on the floor, sliding back inside her.

  It is what I wish, too. I want you all ways at the same time, in the same moment.

  Closing her eyes, she pressed her face into his throat as the thought splintered and was replaced by white-hot pleasure when he released. His arms locked around her, and she reveled in his strength, the feel of him all around her.

  She hoped this was the way this was supposed to feel, this reckless speed and heat, the inability to think. Otherwise, she was allowing a situation to spin out of control that needed to be kept under a very tight rein, for his sake as well as everyone else's.

  Fifteen

  AFTERWARD, he followed her to the bathroom, apparently wanting to watch how she prepared herself for her day. She politely asked to be excused, but when she began to close the bathroom door, he caught it.

  "I want to see you," he said, his jaw set.

  Alexis planted her feet, but it was more likely the wood would splinter than his grip would loosen. Vampire and Dark One strength combined made him far stronger than even vampire lore suggested. Since he'd gone toe-to-toe with her father and three angels, it was a reasonable assumption. But if that was the case, it meant he'd held himself back during their lovemaking when he could have bruised her far more.

  "You can. In a minute. In this world, we don't do this in front of one another. As courtesy." She narrowed her gaze as he refused to move his arm. "I am not going to disappear. The sooner you let me do this, the sooner I'll open the door and you can watch me get dressed. You kept the Dark Ones out of your chamber when you didn't want them around."

  "You do not want me around."

  Her response to that was instant, reaching up to touch his suspicious expression. "You know I do. I just don't want you around for this. If we're going to make this work, you're going to have to trust me when I tell you things about this world, all right?"