He kissed me hard and intensely for several long moments before he naturally slipped across my face to travel down to the crook of my neck. I tipped my head willingly as he sucked at the scar there and felt his teeth beginning to lengthen against my skin. He suddenly stilled before pushing away.
“I can’t,” he whispered, dragging in a deep ragged breath, his eyes flaming as he backed down the steps behind him. “I can’t,” he said again, as if he were trying to convince himself, and he turned and moved briskly across the room.
I watched him go without saying a word, biting at my now swollen bottom lip, trying to remind myself his rejection of me was because he was trying to prove his love, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. I needed him with me—in every way possible—and this forced separation he was requiring was not something I was on board with at all.
He wanted me. I knew he did, I could feel it radiating from him, and it only strengthened my resolve to make him see the error of his ways. We would work better together if we were close and without conflict than by trying to maintain distance.
A little part of me felt guilty. I knew Vance was an extremely independent person. He always had been. I knew if he had a choice he would probably choose to live without blood entirely. He hated being dependent on anything, and he’d become entirely dependent on me as a source. I knew that had to be killing him. He was like a drug addict, craving what I fed him.
I guess the term junkie needed to be applied to myself as well. I couldn’t deny the power trip it was for me to have that kind of control over him, and when he partook from me it was one of the most intimate things I’d ever experienced. I knew that was only because of our relationship together, a side effect of our binding spell, the mental connection, and the physical attraction we shared. There was certainly nothing intimate about when others had drunk from me.
I thought of Damien and Catriona and felt a slight shiver run through me. No, my reaction to being fed from was entirely because it was Vance doing the feeding. I liked that it melded part of us together, that part of me was flowing through his veins.
Unbidden, a thought suddenly rose in my head, and I wondered what it would be like if the situation were reversed. What would it feel like to have his blood flowing through me, his magic racing through my body?
The thought was so dizzying, it was almost erotic. I’d felt bit and pieces of his power in the past through our mental connection and during times like when he kissed me while standing in the middle of Stonehenge. I couldn’t even comprehend what it would feel like to have his astronomical strength actually running through my veins.
Vance stiffened, standing ramrod straight with his back to me. He slowly turned, a slight scowl on his face, and his eyes were blazing brightly.
I realized all of my mental defenses were still down, and he had probably felt every single thing I just thought. I sat up a little, meeting his gaze head on.
“Would you like to find out?” he asked me point blank.
“What?” I faltered, and he began to walk toward me.
“Would you like to find out what it’s like? There’s no reason why you can’t, you realize. The Awakening will keep you from starting a conversion with a blood exchange.” He continued to move toward me, and I found my heart beating at an all new rapid pace.
“I … I was just pondering things in my mind, trying to understand where you were coming from,” I said nervously. “I didn’t really mean anything by it. I just wondered. You know—curiosity and all that.” I couldn’t seem to stop the rambling chatter that was coming from my mouth as he strode up the steps.
“I want you to do it,” he said stopping directly in front of me.
“Do what?” I squeaked out, feeling suddenly squeamish.
“I want you to drink from me,” he said, his eyes boring seriously into mine. “It’ll help you to understand me better.”
“But … it’s your blood,” I said, wondering when things had gone so awry. “Besides, you’re a demon. I thought the big craving was for uncontaminated blood.”
He shook his head. “That comes after the conversion. Prior to that you will crave the blood of the person who is turning you,” he explained.
“And what if I do this, and I start craving your blood?”
He gave a shrug, but his flaring eyes belied the nonchalant attitude he was trying to exude.
“I would give it to you,” he answered, reaching out to touch my lips and something so sensual moved between us in that it stole my breath away. I wanted that kind of closeness with him.
“This is ridiculous,” I said pulling back. “Even if I wanted to do it, which I don’t, I don’t have fangs, and I’m definitely not going to gnaw on you until I draw blood.”
Vance pushed the sleeve of his jacket up toward his elbow and lifted his wrist to his mouth. He bit into his own flesh, and then moved to reveal the blood that was welling there. He held his arm out to me.
“Drink it,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. “Do it for me,” he added in a yearning tone.
“I’m afraid to,” I whispered, casting my eyes down to where the blood was beginning to drip from him, falling to the stone floor beneath.
“Don’t be,” he said, stepping closer. “I need you to do this.” He lifted his limb to my mouth, pressing the wound against my lips. “Please drink it, Portia.” It was almost a plea.
I faltered for a moment, finding it difficult to refuse him, and I slipped my fingers through his. I opened my mouth, covering over his bite, and I sucked.
His coppery taste flowed over my tongue, followed by an intensely sweet taste, almost as if his blood had been laced with spun sugar. A heady sensation swept through me instantly, accompanied with a desire to draw harder.
I heard him moan as I pulled against his skin, and he closed his eyes, moving forward to lean on me slightly.
“I didn’t know it would feel so good,” he ground out, his lips moving against my hair, and his rapid breath caused goose bumps to flair over my skin.
All of a sudden I could feel fire racing through my veins—his heat, I realized. His strength was moving through me, and I started to tremble, craving more, needing more of it.
He groaned loudly as I bit into him with my own teeth, trying to draw the blood out even faster as my body began to hum and sing, filling with the most incredible feeling I had ever known. I could actually sense Vance inside of me, embracing, caressing every cell his blood touched, and igniting me to a point where I lost all comprehension. I only lived to drink.
But then he was gone, and I lifted my head to look for him, feeling totally lost and confused.
He stood several feet away from me, his breath coming in pants. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I had to stop you before you took too much, or I wouldn’t be able to come with you today.” He tried to calm himself. “I didn’t know it would be like that. I’m so sorry.”
“What happened?” I asked, my tongue greedily darting out of my mouth to lick my lips for any remnants that might be left of him.
“I think you liked it,” he laughed shakily. “A lot. I didn’t think you’d have such a strong reaction to it. Most people get sick after the exchange in the beginning, before they start craving it. The Awakening must be changing that for you.”
I slipped off the altar, feeling empowered, almost as if our roles had reversed, and I was the predator, and he was the prey.
I stalked toward him.
“This is the most incredible feeling I have ever felt,” I said honestly. “I can feel you inside of me. I can feel your heart beating in time with my own. It’s very … sensual.”
“I know,” he agreed, swallowing hard as he watched me approach. “Now you understand why it’s so difficult for me to be around. I needed you to see it.”
“I still don’t care.” I reached for him, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him flush against me. I stood up on my tiptoes and kissed his mouth, and to his credit he didn’t resist me, instead
wrapping his arms full around me and returning my kiss with a passion that equaled mine.
He slid his hands down and lifted me up. I encircled my legs around his waist as he carried me over to the sofa, laying me down on it without breaking our kiss, covering my body with his own.
I was desperate for him in a way I’d never known was even possible, and my hands slipped down his muscled physique, feeling him on me as he blood ran through me.
It was intoxicating.
Our hands traveled to our clothing, lifting and pushing items out of the way as we searched to make skin on skin contact, bursting with the urgent need to make an intimate connection.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Damien’s voice broke into the moment, and we sprang apart like two kids who had just been caught doing something in the back seat of the car.
Damien laughed heartily. “Don’t let me stop you,” he said, gesturing in between us. “By all means, please continue. I have no problems sitting here until you finish what you were up to.”
“If I didn’t think you would enjoy it so much, I’d do it,” Vance grumbled tucking his shirt back into his pants as he stood, before extending a hand to help me up as well. He started refastening the buttons on my blouse.
“What’s this?” Damien snagged Vance by the wrist, lifting it to inspect the wound briefly before Vance yanked his arm away. “Well, well. Have you introduced our little witch into the intoxicating world of a blood exchange? I have to say I’m a bit surprised and more than a little delighted. I was beginning to wonder if you had it in you, son.”
“What are you talking about?” I questioned, hating that Damien’s very presence was cheapening what Vance and I had just shared. I reached out to heal Vance’s wound, removing all traces of our interaction.
“Well, he just ensured your loyalty to him, for one thing. He’s the first demon blood you’ve had which makes him your sire. At least it would have if you were capable of changing. You’ll always feel something … special towards him because of it.”
I snorted. “He already had all of that from me,” I said, stating the obvious.
“Yes, he did,” Damien agreed. “But now you’ll crave him just as badly as he craves you. That should prove to make some interesting fireworks!” He laughed again. “I can’t wait to see it.”
“What do you mean, I’ll crave him?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer.
“I mean, my dear Eve, you’ve partaken of the forbidden fruit, and there will be no going back for you. Now that you’ve had him, you’ll desire him above all else until you have him again. Pity he doesn’t have the Awakening anymore, or you both could have fed from each other to your heart’s content. But you, dear Portia, can kill him, so you’ll need to be careful when your ... umm … passion takes control of you.”
“Did you know all of this?” I asked, turning to Vance who was still looking heatedly at me, our bodies still flaring from what we shared.
“I knew there was a good possibility,” he muttered, not breaking eye contact with me. “I though perhaps you having the Awakening might change some of it for you.”
“And yet you asked me to drink anyway?” I asked incredulously unable to believe he would’ve deliberately put me in such a predicament.
“And that’s not even the best part,” Damien interjected with a chuckle.
“What do you mean?” I asked my heart sinking to my toes, knowing whatever he had to say couldn’t be good.
“Well, darling girl, if you were to ever have the Awakening removed from you then your body will naturally finish the conversion, and you, my sweet, will be a demon.”
My blood ran cold at his words, and I turned to look at Vance.
“Why?” I whispered, knowing he had deceived me.
He just stared at me, his face now blank of emotion. “I told you I wanted you anyway I could get you, and I’m not above trickery to do it,” he said coldly. “Now you know exactly how selfish I am.”
Chapter 11
Betrayal. Oh, how deep the bite of it stung—worse than any bite I’d ever experienced in my life. I sat inside the limousine that traveled through the lush Arkansas countryside, watching the green forest rush by.
I didn’t think Arizona even had this shade of green in it. Everything was so beautiful, but my mind was lost far from the scenery.
Vance was across the narrow aisle from me, and Damien was at the far end of the stretch in the last seat. I would’ve found it funny that Vance and I naturally moved to sit as far away from Damien as the vehicle would allow, but right now nothing in my life seemed funny.
I could barely stand to look at Vance, and when I did it was to find him staring at me with a somewhat smug look on his face. The mental barriers in his head were firmly in place, keeping me out, which was probably a very smart thing for him to be doing right now, or I would’ve been screaming into his mind at the top of my lungs.
Coward, I thought. Betrayer.
I wondered if I had ever known him at all. It was as if my entire world had all been a lie, and suddenly I didn’t know what my place in it was. My fate rested precariously upon the whims of others, and I was being played as a pawn in a war that was occurring between father and son.
I hated it. It was cruel.
Vance turned his gaze away to look out the window as we rushed toward Little Rock, heading to the airport there to catch a flight to areas unknown. Damien was revealing things in bits and pieces as we went along.
When we were ushered out of the cavern, we discovered we were being held on a gigantic estate that was situated in the middle of nowhere. It had been a previous holding of Damien’s before his death, and, as it was the most conveniently located place next to Louisiana, he had brought us there after our capture.
The cave was natural to the estate, and Damien actually had the dwelling built above it, improving it to be a natural ritual area for the practice of his magic. It boggled the mind how many residences this guy had.
Ironically, he hadn’t been using any of the money my dad had helped to transfer to Vance. Apparently a crafty demon like Damien was fluent in dealing with off shore bank accounts. He had untapped funds we hadn’t even been aware of. The guy was truly loaded.
My attention drifted over to him as he shifted from his seat onto mine, moving to where a stocked mini-bar was in the vehicle. He opened a decanter, full of blood, of course, and poured himself a glass.
“Would you care for a drink?” he gestured toward Vance, and Vance nodded, sliding down to take the offered refreshment from Damien’s outstretched hand.
Damien then poured himself another drink before closing the bar and moving back to where he’d been seated. He caught me staring at him and chuckled.
“How rude of me! Did you want a glass of blood too, Portia?” he asked, and I shot a look of daggers at him before glancing to Vance who was staring at me with slightly piqued interest.
That didn’t help me at all, because suddenly I could remember the taste of him in my mouth, and I felt my skin flush in response to that thought. My taste buds flooded with saliva, and I swallowed hard, forcing myself to turn away from him to stare back out the window.
Damien laughed out loud at this. “I can see you definitely prefer a particular vintage, don’t you?” he said, and I ignored him completely, even as my heart hammered in my chest. “I don’t blame you at all, my dear. Vance has the best blood I’ve ever tasted in my life. It’s easy to see why you would want more of it.”
“Lay off her.” Vance’s voice was low and soft, but the threat was still in his words. “She’s had enough to deal with today. You don’t need to keep taunting her with it.”
I was surprised at his interjection, but I didn’t move my gaze away from the trees that rushed by outside my window, and the car fell back into silence.
After two hours of driving we entered Little Rock and began making our way through the city freeways and traffic toward the airport until we were finally able to exit off the 440 toward the termi
nal.
The car dropped us off curbside, and the driver loaded our luggage onto a cart and called for a baggage handler to escort us to the waiting ticket counters inside.
“What? No private jet this time? Are we slumming it?” I couldn’t help the sarcasm that dripped from my voice. I couldn’t image any reason why Damien would stoop to using public transportation.
Damien ignored me and waved his hand in dismissal. My comment, however, had caught the attention of the pretty young lady behind the counter.
“You have your own plane?” She smiled flirtatiously, eyeing Damien with obvious interest.
I almost gagged when he laid the charm on for her. “Why, of course. Doesn’t everybody?” He winked at her playfully.
She giggled in response, twirling her hair between her fingers. “True, mine’s currently parked out back.”
“Mine’s having maintenance work done. That’s what is forcing me to mingle with the common people today,” Damien replied condescendingly.
The girl’s face clouded over, when she realized he wasn’t kidding anymore, and she appeared to be dumbfounded for a moment, not sure how to reply.
“Can we just get out tickets, please?” Vance interjected, taking the focus off Damien.
She quickly handed them to us, not even bothering to wish us a nice flight before she called out, “Next!”
“I guess I offended her,” Damien said as we walked away. “Too bad. She held promise.”
“She dodged a bullet if you ask me,” Vance murmured.
Damien chuckled, completely unfazed by Vance’s remark.
We walked in silence together. I peered down at my ticket, finding out we were bound for Washington, D.C., and we made our way through airport security, heading down the ramp to our waiting terminal.
“We have a little time before our flight still,” Vance said, coming beside me. “Can I get you something to eat before we board?”
“I don’t want your blood, thank you,” I said sarcastically, and he sighed in exasperation.
“You know that isn’t what I meant,” he replied, before turning to walk away, leaving me standing with Damien in the waiting area.