Blood Redemption

  “Yes, I suppose,” Vanya said.

  Ciopori nodded. “Good.” She smoothed her own hair back into place. “Because I have to say that in all my years of living, whether in Romania or North America”—she sighed for emphasis then—“hell, whether with celestial beings or vampires, that had to be the single most undignified thing I have ever witnessed.”

  “Yes,” Vanya said, sinking even further down in the seat. She wished she could just disappear, perhaps dematerialize right out the cosmos. She scrubbed her hand over her face and winced.

  “And if you were going for…subtlety…with regard to the fact that you still have some unresolved, perhaps conflicting, feelings for that male—for whatever reason—I think the secret is out.”

  “Oh, gods,” Vanya mumbled. “What should I do?”

  “Do?” Ciopori echoed. “Um, I believe you should not do anything more.” She shook her head like an exasperated mother. “As it stands, Saber has not killed any of us…yet. Napolean has not killed Saber…yet. And the truck will heal…in time. Perhaps we have all done enough for one night.”

  Vanya groaned. She bent over in the seat and placed her head between her knees. “I think I’m going to be ill.”

  No one said a word.

  “Great Cygnus,” Vanya continued to lament, “I’m supposed to be a princess.”

  “Indeed,” Ciopori said.

  “Yep,” Kristina offered, finally turning the key in the ignition and starting the engine.

  “I think I just…lost it,” Vanya whispered softly.

  “Ya think?” Kristina said, checking her rearview mirror to make sure the path was clear. When Vanya didn’t reply, she continued thoughtlessly: “Honestly, V, I’m no fan of Saber’s—we all know that—but truthfully? I don’t think he was really gonna do her, that tramp. I think he was just getting her all hot and bothered so she wouldn’t object to him feeding from her neck.”

  “Kristina,” Ciopori chastised sweetly, “perhaps that is not very helpful right now.”

  “No,” Vanya said. “She’s right. I’m crazy. I jumped to a horrible conclusion, one that shouldn’t even matter; after all, I’ve completely banished the male from my life. And to make matters worse, I acted…abominably.”

  “Yeah, you acted a damn fool,” Kristina mumbled, chuckling as if the whole situation was just girls being girls, a night out on the town.

  “Kristina…” Ciopori repeated.

  “This whole situation has simply driven me to the brink of madness,” Vanya added. “Oh, no!” She sat up abruptly. “What if the human does something rash? What if she’s been traumatized? What if she—”

  “Saber will erase her memory and make sure all is well. He is a lot of things, but he is not stupid,” Ciopori said.

  Vanya nodded, and then she slumped back in her seat. “Do you think he will still…take her home?”

  “To a cave?” Kristina blurted, incredulous. “I mean, she was kind of skank. But still, at some point, self-preservation has to kick in. If some guy had tried to pick me up in a bar and take me back to a cave? Uh…no. Can you say serial killer?”

  “Kristina!” Ciopori snapped, her voice growing sharp with reprisal. She leaned forward in the backseat and placed a loving hand on Vanya’s shoulder. “Perhaps you shouldn’t—”

  “Go there,” Kristina supplied.

  “In your mind,” Ciopori clarified.

  “You don’t do so well there,” Kristina added.

  “Clearly,” Vanya admitted. And then she stretched back, reclined the seat so she could lie down, and shut her eyes, cringing, while Kristina pulled out of the parking lot.

  Saber Alexiares stared fixedly ahead as the pink Corvette tore out of the Black Bear Tavern lot, kicking up gravel in its wake. He could have used his superior hearing to eavesdrop on the conversation before the females departed, but he had chosen to decline the temptation: He wasn’t at all sure he wanted to know what was being said.

  He glanced over his shoulder and sighed. No doubt, there was a confused human female sitting at a raised table inside, probably trembling, perhaps throwing up, but definitely glued to her seat by the weight of Kristina Silivasi’s compulsion; and he still needed to go wash her memories and set the whole thing straight. And soon.

  True; he still needed to feed, but perhaps there was a young adult male who would serve him better.

  For the sake of darkness! Vanya had truly lost it.

  He eyeballed his deflated tires and winced—before smirking—who knew she had that kind of fire in her? And over him—the fact that he had touched another woman.

  Saber felt a primal growl rise in his throat, the call of a male predator staking his territory.

  Vanya Demir had somehow known he was with another woman; and she had reacted like a territorial animal, claiming what was hers.

  She had cared.

  Deeply.

  She had been devastated.

  She had reacted like his…destiny.

  And didn’t that just make an entire world of gray suddenly black and white: It didn’t matter that Saber was a dark soul, raised in the house of Jaegar. It didn’t matter that Vanya was a celestial princess, perhaps raised by the residents of heaven itself. It only mattered that her soul knew his, and vice versa. They were part of each other now, for better, for worse…

  And forever.

  Napolean could kill him if he wanted to.

  And Vanya could threaten him, refuse him, until the stars all burned out and the Dark Ones found souls.

  It didn’t matter.

  The dark lords of hell could no longer keep Saber Alexiares from doing the one thing he had been killing himself not to do: claiming what was rightfully his.

  His destiny.

  And his son.

  twenty-four

  Vanya pulled her knees up to her chest and rocked back and forth on the guest room bed, staring at Ciopori’s back. “Do you think he will try to contact me…approach me…now that I’ve made such an egregious error?”

  Ciopori pulled back a white wooden slat from the blinds and peered out the window. “He’s already here.”

  Vanya jumped up from the bed. “No!” She rushed to the blinds, peered out next to her sister, and cringed when she saw the darkly clad male, still arrayed in black and red from head to toe—and wasn’t that just a striking visage against his wild hair—climb out of the hefty F350. “What should I do?”

  “What do you want to do?” Ciopori asked.

  Vanya shrugged helplessly. “What do you want me to do?”

  Ciopori moaned. “I want you to call Napolean and ask him to behead the male once and for all, so we can go on with our lives, peacefully. However, after witnessing that scene earlier, I no longer believe that’s within your best interest.” She sighed. “Go talk to him.” She glanced at the pristine bassinette beside the bed and added, “I will take good care of Lucien.”

  Vanya pressed an open palm to her chest and worried her bottom lip. “Back into the dragon’s lair then?”

  Ciopori shrugged and shook her head. “I suppose so.”

  Vanya nodded. Of one thing she was quite certain: It was probably better to meet with Saber, briefly, than risk Saber and Marquis reuniting at the front door. The last time the two had exchanged words, Marquis’s hand had been buried in Saber’s chest, about to dislodge his heart. “Very well,” she said. “I’ll let you know what happens.”

  Ciopori’s eyes grew misty, but she showed no other sign of distress. “Vanya…”

  “Yes?”

  “If, for even one moment, you feel like you’re in danger, call out to me, okay?”

  “I will.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  The two sisters hugged, and then Vanya stepped back stoically and closed her eyes, trying to concentrate. As a recently turned vampire, Vanya should not have possessed the skill to dematerialize this soon, but her absolute command over magic and the ancient ways had imbued her with many of the va
mpiric powers earlier than usual.

  She materialized on the front lawn, just beneath a large ponderosa pine. Less than five feet away from Saber’s truck, on the passenger side.

  If Saber was relieved or happy to see her, his face didn’t show it. “Get in,” he commanded, his deep voice holding a dark, perilous edge.

  “Get in?” Vanya echoed. She stared at the door and frowned. Where did he think he was taking her?

  “To my cave,” he said, reading her thoughts effortlessly. “Get in.”

  Vanya licked her lips, noticing that they were all at once chapped and dry. The door to the truck was now like a gateway, a haunted entry that led beyond a shadowed crossroad, and once she stepped beyond the line, there would be no turning back. Every doubt, every fear, every desire she had ever entertained settled into the pit of her stomach, turning over in roiling waves of uncertainty. She took an unwitting step back.

  The ground shifted subtly beneath them, and the dragon flexed his back. He stretched his sinewy arms and rolled his head on his shoulders; a low, almost indiscernible growl rose in his throat. “Get in, Princess.”

  They road in deafening silence all the way to the Red Canyons, heading toward the cave where Saber had been living, until Vanya almost considered opening the door and jumping from the vehicle just to escape the awkward tension. Perhaps her new vampiric body could sustain the fall. When at last Saber pulled up in front of a dark, arched entrance, the opening to his cave, she hesitated to get out of the vehicle.

  “You’re here now,” he said, climbing out of the truck. He strolled around the cab with the stealth of a predator, the grace of a cougar—and didn’t that just make her heart skip more than a couple of beats—and then he opened her door. “Welcome,” he drawled silkily.

  “Back up,” she said, unwilling to come that close. She still wasn’t sure if he was angry, revengeful, or just…being Saber.

  Saber took a careful step back. “I am not going to harm you, Princess.” He met her eyes in a steely gaze. “And you know it.”

  Vanya swallowed a lump in her throat. “Then what are you planning to do?”

  He purred, throwing off an enormous amount of heat and feral energy. “Everything,” he whispered. “Anything…all you have ever desired.”

  Vanya drew up short. “Is that supposed to make me feel at ease?”

  “No,” Saber said. Gliding as much as walking, he took an unflinching step forward. He reached into the cab and leaned into her until their chests were nearly touching, his heart beating wildly, only inches from hers; and then he placed his powerful hands beneath her arms and slid them down to her waist. His thumbs absently brushed the sides of her breasts as they passed by, and he lifted her out of the seat.

  He set her down on the ground in front of him.

  He ran the backs of his fingers along her neck and then her collarbone.

  He dropped his head to nuzzle her ear and whispered: “It’s supposed to make you feel…alive.”

  Vanya drew in a sharp intake of breath. She placed both hands firmly on his chest and shoved him back, desperately needing air. “Did you feed?” she asked nervously.

  “Yes,” he answered, his eyes boring holes into hers. The dark, savage pupils were molten with heat, glowing almost iridescent with raw, unrestrained passion; and the longing they reflected in their liquid depths was so great, so all-encompassing, it shook her to her soul.

  She shivered, but she managed to maintain her composure. “On her?” she asked. Her voice sounded distant.

  “What?” Saber whispered, sounding confused.

  “On her,” she repeated, feeling like a fool. “When you fed, did you feed on her?”

  Saber’s cruel mouth turned up at the corners, revealing the barest hint of ivory fangs. “No,” he drawled lazily. He reached out and swept his thumb along her cheek. “It was far too displeasing to my destiny.”

  Vanya felt herself sway. She clutched at his shoulders to keep from falling over. “But you were going to,” she muttered. And then she looked up into his eyes and almost swooned. “What else were you going to do, Saber?”

  He shrugged with indifference. “I don’t know…not that.”

  “But you wanted her?” Great Cygnus, why couldn’t she just leave it alone?

  Saber licked his bottom lip, slowly. “Princess, please…you know who I am. What I am.”

  She shook her head, staring at his chest, too disconcerted to continue looking him in the eyes.

  “Raised in the house of Jaegar,” he said. He brushed a lock of her hair behind her shoulders, placed two fingers beneath her chin, and gently raised her head. “Even if I didn’t want you—which I do”—his voice held a dark promise of something so primitive she felt it in her toes—“she was nothing more than chattel to me.”

  Vanya rolled her eyes, reacting to his calloused words. “And that’s supposed to make it better,” she said, “endear you to me?”

  “No,” he answered sharply. “It’s simply the truth.”

  She peered at him beneath heavy lids and noticed that his face was flushed with heat. Great lords, he was already summoning a dragon’s fire.

  “Luckily for me,” he added, “you already hold me dear.”

  Vanya blinked in surprise.

  “Shh, pretty woman,” he cajoled. “Do not deny it.” He bent to her ear, traced the contours with his tongue, and gently nipped at her lobe with his fangs. “You slashed my tires, Princess.”

  Vanya squirmed. She ducked from beneath his hungry advances and glanced over her shoulder at the truck. “And you already fixed them? So quickly?” Her voice was unsteady, her hands trembling, visibly.

  “I’m a vampire.”

  She nodded, still looking away. “So am I…now.”

  “I know,” he whispered huskily in her ear. And then he stepped back, extended his arm toward the mouth of the cave, and inclined his head. “My lair.”

  Vanya shook her head. “No.”

  Saber nodded his. “Yes.”

  Vanya raised her voice. “No.”

  Saber lowered his. “Yes.”

  Vanya panted, her breath coming in short bursts of anxiety. “Saber…Saber, please.”

  “Please, what?” he asked. With that, he stepped forward, grasped the back of her head in the palm of his hand, and tightened his fist in her hair. “Please, what? Please don’t do what I’ve been burning to do since the moment you showed up at the bar? Please don’t take your innocence again—I think you can only lose it once. Please don’t taste you, touch you, bury my body inside of yours? Too late, Princess. You came to me; and you slashed my tires.” He covered her mouth with his and began to kiss her hungrily. The moment she began to return the passion—gods help her, she was putty in his hands—he pierced her bottom lip with his fangs, swirled his tongue over the blood, and then abruptly pulled away. “Please, what, Vanya?”

  “Please…we…we need to talk.” She moaned.

  “We will talk.” He dropped his hands to her hips and gently, expertly, pulled her forward until their groins were touching and she could feel the rock-hard evidence of his arousal straining through his jeans. “Later.” He rotated against her shamelessly while slowly unbuttoning her blouse to expose her milky breasts. When he dipped his head to suckle each of the rose-colored buds in turn, first the left, then the right, she whimpered with helplessness.

  Her hips began to roll against his, as if by their own accord, and her right leg bent at the knee as she anchored her soft, creamy thigh over his muscular, hard one.

  He groaned against her chest, and his sex kicked in his jeans. “Gods, Vanya…”

  She gasped. “Saber…Saber…please.”

  “Please, what?” he repeated, rasping a sound so deep in his throat that it rumbled along her spine. As if a torrent of turbulent water, held agelessly behind a faltering dam, had finally broken, Saber could no longer restrain himself. He sank his smooth, piercing fangs deep into her breast, drawing nourishment from her heart, before forcin
g himself to withdraw, to lave, kiss, and linger over the bite, slowly rising upward to her collarbone, her neck, and at last, her jugular.

  His fangs sank deep again, only this time, his hips worked in perfect synchronicity, rotating with urgency against her mound, sending currents of electricity streaming down her abdomen, radiating out along her thighs, and culminating in her core.

  Saber fumbled with the buttons on his jeans, finally ripping the denim like it was no more than a piece of parchment in his haste to free his need. “Take me,” he implored, “inside of you.” It was a command, a plea, and a promise all at once.

  Vanya felt like she was falling, plunging, spinning out of control. She clutched at his wild hair, harder than she should, reveling in the silken feel of the unnatural locks, luxuriating in the sensation as it slid through her fingers.

  He growled into her ear. He lifted her up from the ground and held her in his rugged arms, even as he bunched the material of her skirt in his hands, drawing it up to her waist. “Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded.

  She gasped for breath. Oh dear gods! “My panties,” she cried, suddenly aware of the obstruction.

  Saber set her down. He dropped to his knees before her and quickly removed the satin undergarment from her hips, tugging it down her long legs and tossing it aside on the ground. With a wicked snarl, he parted his lips, nuzzled her core, and began to devour her heat.

  His lips sought her apex of pleasure, his teeth nibbled gently along her flesh, and his tongue delved deeply inside her heat. All the while, he coaxed her, teased her, and inflamed her until she began to moan.

  Then scream.

  By all that was holy, what was he doing!

  Vanya squirmed above the feverish vampire, crying out from one orgasm after another, her body trembling in violent waves of release as Saber continued to devour her body.

  When at last he stood up and raised her to his hips, supporting her weight on his muscular arms, she thought she might just pass out. She wrapped her arms around his neck for support. She was exhausted, spent, unable to even speak.

  Saber entered her like a primordial dragon taking flight into a pitch-black sky, shooting ravenously upward in one powerful, primitive thrust, and staking his claim with absolute authority. His huge, pulsing organ tunneled wide and deep, forcing her to stretch to accommodate his length and his girth as he sank deeper and deeper into her very soul. “Daughter of rapture,” he panted.