Kismet Knight, Vampire Psychologist 3 - Dark Harvest (20 page)

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Without a word, he gathered me into his arms, stood, and transported us to my bedroom in his penthouse.

I expected him to launch right into demanding to know how I’d seen the radio host die, but he surprised me by smiling and changing the subject. I didn’t know what to make of the rapid mood shift. But since I was currently the Queen of Split Personalities, I didn’t see how I could point any fingers at him.

His gorgeous eyes twinkled. “We are both blood-covered, which I am sure is a greater burden for you than for me. I am, after all, very comfortable with the familiar substance.” He gave a dazzling smile.

“Perhaps we should discard our soiled garments and shower before we continue our discussion.”

No matter what else is happening, a guy is always a guy.

My eyebrows shot up. “Is that your way of asking me to have sex with you? In the midst of all the insanity we’re dealing with? After the fight you just had?” Lust drew my attention by jumping up and down, clapping her hands. She started unbuttoning her blouse, a wide smile on her face.

I thought he’d make a lighthearted remark, perhaps toss out a double entendre, but he became serious again—almost sad.

“At this moment, I am at a loss to know how to proceed. I want to keep you safe, yet short of holding on to you physically, I am without options. I will, of course, strengthen your protective necklace—which, by the way, is probably the reason the lunatic was not able to completely take you over again tonight—and cast all the appropriate spells. I will station vampire guards at every entrance, and I have ordered the building’s security heightened in every way. The truth is that I need to reclaim you.

Physically. Emotionally. And I need to find myself again. I know that sounds primitive and like something Fred Flintstone would do.” He grinned when he said the last. “But I need to rebuild our emotional bond, to soothe my own yearning as well as protect you. And, yes”—the brilliant smile was back—“of course I always want to have sex with you.”

Gazing up into his sparkling aqua eyes and blood-clumped, platinum hair, I couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“So, this would be sex for magical purposes?”

He gave a brief nod. “It could definitely be considered such.”

“Some men would be too upset after the evening we’ve had to concentrate on sex.”

He gave a slow blink, the corners of his mouth curving. “I am not a man. I am a vampire. A very old vampire. Rest assured that concentration will not be a problem.”

His tone of voice played along my body like warm hands. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. At that point it didn’t matter which part of me was rolling out the welcome mat. Our nipples were hard.

The scientist part of me remembered that I’d often had discussions with clients about the difference between male and female sexuality, and how men felt most connected during the sex act. Devereux needing to reconnect that way made total sense. As always, his self-awareness was impressive, and his ability to share himself with me emotionally was one of my favorite things. How could I resist such a perfect male? Even if he was a chest beater on occasion?

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“Well, then.” I gave what I hoped was a come-hither look. “I wouldn’t want to be accused of not holding up my end of our emotional bond. I guess I’ll have to suffer through another glorious Devereux orgasm. Only in the name of soothing you, of course.” Maybe he was more brilliant than I thought. Was he suggesting sex to positively distract me?

He threw back his head and laughed, the sound tickling over me like soft feathers, as he walked us into the lovely bathroom. “Of course.”

Lowering me to my feet, he cocked his head. “Your beautiful blue dress is ruined. That is another score I will settle with the demon. A replacement will be arranged.” He bent down, grasped the hem of my dress, and began tugging it up my body. I raised my arms in the air, letting him pull what was left of the masterpiece over my head. He dropped it on the floor, leaving me standing in my blue silk bikini panties, matching bra, and protective necklace.

With an easy motion, he tugged off his boots then unbuttoned the waistband of his black leather pants, staring at me as he slowly lowered the zipper. As I watched the downward movement, it occurred to me that another possible reason Devereux always wore leather was so blood could be easily cleaned off the surface. I wondered if I’d have to add more leather to my own wardrobe.

He slid the pants down his legs and kicked them aside, covering the short distance between us. His tall, muscular body was beautiful. Even dirty and blood-covered, he was breathtaking. I let my gaze meander down his chest, and over his flat stomach, finally reaching the thick, long erection jutting from between his legs. It was blissfully unconcerned about any vampire or human melodramas. It knew exactly what it wanted, and my hand moved on its own to grant its wish.

Devereux groaned as I stroked his penis. He wrapped his arms around me, the fingers of one hand effortlessly unfastening my bra in the back. I closed my eyes and a sharp pain radiated from between my brows. I gasped, my body trembling. Devereux jerked back from me, staring, his face a mask of concern. “Kismet? What are you doing? What has happened?”

I smiled. Or at least it felt like me. It was my body, but the drivers had switched seats. Or, more accurately, they still shared the seat, but the positions had been rearranged. The psychologist couldn’t reach the brake pedal or the steering wheel anymore. The part I thought of as my usual self was still present, but she’d been pushed aside and could only observe. But
I
was clearly both.

“Love buns!” I threw my bra on the floor and stepped out of the panties. “It’s so good to see you. I thought my ball and chain would never get things rolling. Come to mama.” I dropped to my knees, sucked Devereux’s erection into my mouth, remembering the joy of licking a Popsicle as a kid. He grunted in surprise. I used to like to shove the whole frozen treat into my mouth, creating a vacuum with my lips and tongue. If I’d only known what those lazy summer days were preparing me for.

I’d barely gotten a good suction going when Devereux yelled, “Stop!” and wove his hand into my hair, grabbing on and holding me immobile.

I mumbled, “Wha—?” through a mouthful of penis and relaxed my jaw muscles just enough for him to slide his erection through my lips as he backed away.

He released my hair and loomed over me, scowling, the family jewels still at eye level, slightly out of reach.

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“Hey! What did you do that for? I was just getting warmed up!”

Devereux spoke slowly, his voice almost a growl. “Return her. Now.”

I shook my head, plopped my ass onto the cold floor, and sprawled, opening my legs to make sure he understood the offer. “No way. I’m out and I’m staying out. You can’t stand there with a hard-on the size of a giant redwood and tell me you don’t want to have some fun.”

He smiled and bent down, his blood-soaked hair falling forward in clumps.

Well, damn. That was easier than I expected. He wants me bad.“All right! Let’s have some fun.”

Too fast to see, he hefted me into his arms. “I said return her. Now.”

“So, Rhett Butler. Playing hard to get, eh? Well, have it your way.” I wiggled free of his grip, grabbed onto his neck, and planted a wet kiss on his luscious mouth. Before he could dislodge me, I managed to chomp down on his lower lip, sucking hard on the small cut I made.

He swung me onto my feet and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the line of blood dripping from his lower lip. He glowered. “No. I will not help him strengthen his control. You will not taste my blood again.”

I folded my arms across my breasts, pouting. “What’s a girl gotta do to have a little fun around here?

What kind of badass vampire are you, anyway? Afraid to share a little blood. It isn’t like you can’t just go out and get more. What’s the problem?”

He leaned in, locking eyes with me. “Return. Her.” His voice vibrated dark and low. “Now.”

I gasped as a wave of heat flowed through my body. Closing my eyes, I had a vision of Lust, walking naked—hips exaggeratedly swaying—through my inner landscape. She turned and spoke, “Don’t even think this is over. I’m not finished with him.
Ciao
for now.” She laughed as she skulked off into the shadows.

Forcing my lids open, I stared up into Devereux’s eyes.

“Is it you?” he asked.

For the first time in my life I didn’t know how to answer that question.

I blinked, licking my dry lips. “That was awful—like being locked behind a glass wall in a soundproof room. Is this how it feels to go insane?” A weak smile quirked my lips and I grasped the hand he offered.

He held me close. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t know how I am.” My arms circled his waist. “I’m pissed that some ancient monster was able to splinter my brain and cause me to lose control. I’m terrified that I’ll never be myself again and that things are only going to get worse—that I’ll lose everything about myself I value. I feel powerless—like a frightened five-year-old. I want to run and hide, but there’s nowhere he can’t find me.”

Devereux tightened his embrace. “I will not let him have you. I swear it. Do you remember any of what happened?”

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I mumbled against his chest. “Every moment of it, but only as an observer. I didn’t get to feel anything directly.” I let go of him and stepped back, giving a weak smile. “I appreciate you saying no. It was bizarre watching her trying to seduce you. I know she’s me, but that aspect is usually mediated by the rest of the team. Raw. Primal. It really was like having my id run wild. I don’t even want to think about the kinds of professional and personal trouble she can get me into.”

“Is there anything you can explore as a therapist that might help you remain in control?”

I shook my head absently. “I’m not aware of anything like this in the psych literature … well, wait a minute.” I paused, holding my index finger in the air. “I do remember reading a popular novel—what was the name of that book? Oh, yes,
Sybil
—about a multiple personality patient with one alter who was aware of everything. She was present. Watching. Remembering everything for all of them, while other aspects blacked out when they weren’t on center stage. Hypnosis was helpful in that case.” I walked in tight circles in the large bathroom, ideas sparking, speaking more to myself than to Devereux. “Maybe Tom could hypnotize me. He’s pretty good at it when he’s not being a pompous ass. What if the wild part is suggestible enough to be modified?”

Devereux gently grasped my upper arm, freezing me in my tracks. His expression was both incredulous and concerned. “You want to entrust your mind to someone who wants to become a vampire so he can be a pornography star?”

I raised my hand and patted his cheek. “I know you don’t have much use for Tom, but he is a talented clinician—underneath all his narcissistic idiocy. I’m willing to try anything that might keep Hallow from dragging me farther into his psychotic hell.” Thinking about Hallow caused my body to contract in fear and tingle with excitement all at the same time. Frowning, I gazed up at my avenging knight. “What did he do to me? How could he possibly have caused this mind split?”

Devereux shrugged in frustration, shaking his head. “He is incredibly powerful. And completely mad.”

He touched the protective pentagram necklace. “As I mentioned earlier, I believe he was unable to take you over completely due to the power of the spells in this talisman. So, instead of entirely replacing your normal personality with a more uninhibited version, as he did before, this time he could only give the primitive equal footing.”

I didn’t think the footing was equal. I thought her feet were huge and getting bigger.

Chapter Eighteen

Devereux adjusted the water temperature in the luxurious dual shower while I tried to sense whether my inner troublemaker was revving up for an encore. My body—our body?—was exhausted, and the last thing I wanted was to be pushed aside again while the Fellatio Queen forced herself on my man, er, vampire. Not to mention that thinking of myself in the third person was becoming too weird for my brain to deal with.

He slid one panel all the way open in the expanse of etched glass. “Shall we?”

When I hesitated, he raised an eyebrow in silent question.

I pressed my palm against his chest, simply needing to touch. “Are you sure we should shower together?

I don’t want to do anything to tempt her into reappearing. She seems to lack boundaries around men, and I’ve had enough surprises for one day.”

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“You are safe with me.” He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. “I will give her no cause to overwhelm you. I have complete control over my body and its reactions.” I glanced down at his still-flaccid organ to find out if it believed what Devereux said about control. He smiled in reassurance.

“Tonight is about comfort and safety. We have plenty of time for lovemaking after our current …

problems … are dealt with. There are many other ways for me to express my love. Allow me to soothe you.”

Even though he said he still couldn’t read my thoughts, I wasn’t sure I believed him, because everything he’d said was exactly what I needed to hear. If he truly was unable to read my thoughts, then he was much more perceptive and intuitive than I’d imagined.

I nodded, stuck a hand in to test the warmth before stepping into the large enclosure and sighed with pleasure as the just-hot-enough water flowed down my body.

Devereux joined me, closed the shower door, and stood under the second stream.

Wonderful aromas filled the air as he lathered his hair with shampoo, then smoothed rich, liquid soap over his body. The smells were earthy—spicy. His signature fragrance. Simply inhaling the scents relaxed me. I enjoyed watching him run his hands over the hard muscles of his lean frame.

I was fascinated by his lack of erection. Even as he washed his genitals, his penis didn’t so much as twitch. In all the time I’d known him, I couldn’t remember one instance where we’d been naked together and he’d remained unaroused. He smiled as he caught me checking.

“I told you I have complete control over every aspect of my body. Just as I am able to remain erect for long periods of time, if I desire, I am also able to choose not to rise to the occasion, so to speak. And now, if you will indulge me, I would very much like to wash your hair.”

Oh, yeah. I love this part.

He stepped behind me, reached for the bottle of my favorite shampoo on the shelf, and poured the thick gel into his hands. I moaned before he even touched me, remembering the last time he’d used his magic fingers to massage my scalp. Muscles I hadn’t even realized were tight, relaxed, and my jaw sagged. My head tipped back against his chest, and he chuckled as he tilted it upright again.

“It is good to feel the tension leave your body.” He spread the lather through my hair before piling it into a soapy clump. His amazing thumbs pressed little circles toward the base of my skull and along the back of my neck. When he focused on the area between my shoulder blades, I thought my bones would liquefy and spiral down the drain.

“I’ll give you an hour to stop that,” I mumbled. Whatever he’d been doing with his fingers ceased and I groaned, thinking he’d misunderstood my comment. Sometimes modern humor sailed over his head.

Then I smelled the scent of my own bath gel and realized he’d simply switched from my hair to my body.

He smoothed the aromatic soap down my arms, and onto my hands, massaging each finger. Ordinarily, that would make me very happy, but I was still concerned about my uninvited visitor’s reaction.

“You are tense again, and it does not take a mind reader to understand why.” Devereux twirled me and I automatically gazed up into his beautiful eyes. “While I cannot clear away what he has clouded, I can use my gaze to keep you in a state of pleasant relaxation. You will be completely aware and totally in control of yourself. Merely too comfortable to allow worries or memories to upset you. Would you like
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me to do that?”

The idea was appealing, but I’d spent enough time under someone else’s control recently. It made me doubt even Devereux’s intentions. “Just relaxation? And it would keep my wild companion at arm’s length? I could become a basket case again any time I want to?”

“I swear it.” He nodded. “And, because I wish to ask you questions about the comment you made regarding the radio show host, the more calm and relaxed you can remain, the better.”

My solar plexus tightened even thinking about my time at the amusement park. I stared harder into Devereux’s eyes, trying to discover any hidden agendas or ulterior motives, and found none. “Okay.

Since even the thought of talking about that subject makes me nervous, and I don’t want to invite my alter ego to the discussion, go ahead. Zap me.”

He laughed. “That sounds like a word some of my young friends use to describe their victories or defeats with one computer game or another. Perhaps I will simply caress you with my gaze. Much more appealing, yes?”

I had to smile at that. “Yes. Much more appealing.” And before I could even wonder what his visual caress would do to me, my muscles relaxed and a delicious warmth spread along my skin. “Oh, you’re good. Very, very good.”

His lips spread in a dazzling smile. “I have heard that before.”

I intended to lift my hand to swat him for his cockiness, but that seemed like way too much work.

Instead, I moaned as he smoothed bath gel around my breasts, heading lower. Feeling his hands on my breasts was wonderful, but I didn’t have the urge to jump on him. He was right about my still being aware, yet unconcerned. If he could bottle that gaze, he’d make millions. Oh, wait. He already had millions.

He rubbed the skin around my nipples with such tender dedication; I had to take a quick peek to see if any of his relaxed muscles had regained their tension. Nope. Still soft and dangly.

I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensation of his fingers sliding the gel along my body, and made whimpering noises as he briefly stroked a certain spot. Too bad I was so relaxed, because otherwise I’d encourage that finger to stay right where it was for just a few more seconds.

“So, as I spread the soap over your body, and you feel safe and calm, you may tell me about the death of the radio host.”

I opened my eyes and smiled at him. “That’s some pretty smooth hypnosis there, my night-walking guardian angel. Maybe I could just have you hypnotize me instead of Tom. Your methods are certainly much more fun.”

He grinned. “I have had years of experience using my abilities and skills to create desired outcomes. I discovered early on that using certain words and phrases in conjunction with the power of my vampiric voice was an elegant—and effective—tool. But, while I would not choose Tom as my clinician of choice for any purpose I can conceive of, he might be better suited to your needs this time. After all, I have no psychological training and I am not willing to take chances with your well-being.” He deepened the intensity of his gaze and another wave of heat rushed through my body. “As you feel even more relaxed, you may now tell me about the radio host.”

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Slick, Fabio. Real slick.

The words poured out as he massaged my body with his soft hands and shot sporadic laser bursts of vampiric eyeball voodoo to enhance my relaxation. I told him everything I could remember about what happened after he left my townhouse: my discovery that I could move through thought, Maxie’s visit and my decision to go with her to the alleged vampire staking, the creepy amusement park, the events inside the fun house—including Carson’s murder, Tom’s unexpected arrival and pitiful tale, and waking up in my living room chair, naked.

It felt like I’d been talking for hours, but my skin hadn’t pruned—which always happened when I spent too much time in the water—so we couldn’t have been in the shower as long as it seemed. When I finally finished my tale and took a deep breath, I noticed Devereux had switched from smoothing the soap to using a soft washrag to wipe away the lathery remnants. I’d been so distracted and relaxed I hadn’t even felt the difference.

He discarded the cloth and held my face in his hands, his expression solemn. Love filled his soft eyes. “I am very sorry I did not comprehend the gravity of the situation. Even if you had wanted to tell me about any of those experiences as they were happening, I was not available to you. I do not even know if I could have read your thoughts during that time period, because I did not try. I deeply and humbly apologize.”

“Uh …” Well, damn. Losing the ability to speak while staring up at Devereux’s sublime face hadn’t happened for months. Before I got used to his outrageously good looks and powerful vampire vibe, I frequently found myself reduced to monosyllables. Maybe it was the eyeball-induced relaxation or the cumulative effect of all the metaphysical and preternatural madness, but the neurons in my brain refused to fire.

He gave one of his slow blinks, and the corners of his lips quirked up. A mischievous angel. “Does that mean you accept my apology?”

I mentally threw cold water on myself, and quickly shook my head to clear the cobwebs. “Yes, of course. I just spaced out there for a moment. More tired than I thought. I apologize, too.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Being under the influence of the lunatic meant you had less choice about your actions. It is he who will be sorry.” He paused, staring out through the shower glass, as if he were listening to something. “We must dress and prepare for the rest of the evening. Our guests have arrived.”

Guests? Immediately more alert, I pivoted to stare through the glass, expecting vampires to pop into the bathroom. Nothing but empty silence. I quickly rinsed the shampoo from my hair and added conditioner to tame the tangled strands. Devereux slid the door open, stepped out, and extended a hand. I frowned up at him. “Guests? You didn’t mention anything about guests. What’s going on? Is this another ritual?”

As adorable as Devereux was, his idea of acceptable activities often bordered on the absurd, and I wasn’t ready for another trip down the yellow brick road.

“I have invited some powerful vampires to assist me to raise power, both to protect this penthouse and your office, and to surround you. I also instructed Zoë to bring Dr. Radcliffe so that he can hypnotize you if you wish. Perhaps it would be good for you to have an old friend near you.” He smiled. “A human friend—such as he is.”

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“Thanks for that.” I slid my hand down his chest. “I know he’s a pain, but he’s a familiar pain.”

We wrapped ourselves in soft, large towels and walked over to the expansive, multi-sink vanity stretching out along one wall. While Devereux used the dryer on his shining, platinum hair, I bent over, squeezing the moisture out of my curls with a smaller towel. It was weird to be doing such normal, human things with a vampire. The first time I’d watched Devereux brush his teeth I was fascinated. I guess I hadn’t thought about the undead having dental hygiene routines, but it made sense. How
did
one get rid of blood breath?

The towel covering my body fell away as I leaned into the mirror to finish putting on my makeup. I felt Devereux’s gaze on me before receiving verification in the mirror. He met my eyes, a wicked expression on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that, or we’ll never get out of here.”

He chuckled and turned to me as he brushed his long hair. “Oh, yes, I meant to ask about the reporter you mentioned. Maxie. She must be quite a unique person for you to befriend her so quickly. What is it about her that caused you to let down your guard? You are usually more reserved and introspective about new people.”

Reservedand
introspective
were understatements. Sometimes the intensity of unfamiliar energy was so overwhelming, I exhibited all the symptoms of Social Anxiety Disorder. It wasn’t that I didn’t like people—there were many therapists who didn’t—or even that I was afraid of them. No. It was more that I couldn’t shut them out. I couldn’t turn off my emotional radar. Being constantly bombarded by a continuum of feelings was oppressive. But he’d asked a good question. What
was
it about Maxie? Why
had
I let her in?

For some reason, I’d been dreading this discussion. What did I want to tell him about her? What did I really know about the crazy woman? If her “organized crime” theories were any indication, she obviously didn’t have a very good opinion of him. I probably should have mentioned the journalistic speculation about the source of his wealth and power, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t sure why.

“Maxie is a character. Sort of wild and crazy. I never know what she’s going to do next. Since I’m more reserved and structured, maybe that’s her draw for me—someone to nag me out of my comfort zone.” I grinned and glanced at him. “You’d probably like her. She’s very beautiful. Tall and built like a swimsuit model.”

He paused in his hair brushing and raised an eyebrow.

“But the main attraction is her knee-length white hair.”

“White hair? I somehow got the impression that she was a young woman. Perhaps your age.”

“Yes, she is. She said something caused her hair to turn white overnight. But since that can’t really happen, I’m assuming there was a trauma at some point, severe enough to trigger physiological changes.

She hasn’t shared the secret with me yet.”

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