Forever Vampire (24 page)

With a teasing challenge like that, Vail bit hard on the bait. He had climbed ropes and vines a lot when he was younger. Faery was a literal jungle gym for the adventurous youngster who'd always dreamed of having wings. More than a few faeries had teased him and called him a monkey when he was little. It was better than the longtooth epithet.

He impressed himself as he climbed hand over hand, using his feet to guide. Not so difficult when he relied on the strength of his arms. Could he have done this while mired in the hazy fog of his addiction? Probably, but he wouldn't have had the determination to win the prize like he did now.

When he was about five feet off the ground, Lyric slid down, upside down, to meet him face-to-face. “Wrap the silk around your ankle and foot to hold position.”

He did so, and looked to her for further instruction.
His muscles were taut and stretched, and he liked the feeling. But even more, he liked the position of her hanging before him, her hair tied back and dangling in a ponytail.

She hung by one ankle that held a sure grip on the silk. With her free hand she slid her fingers through his hair. And then she kissed him upside down. Vail pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. Her lips were salted with what he knew had been tears. Taking away her pain fed the ache that haunted him. His ankle became unloosened from the silk, and he slid down—he caught himself with a clutch of fabric.

Lyric giggled. “My kisses make you lose your cool?”

“Give me a break. This is my first time.”

“And you're doing well.”

He found a position next to her again and this time divided his concentration between holding on to the fabric and kissing her. “This rocks, kissing like this.”

One of her hands strayed down his chest and flicked across the fly of his pants.

“You think so?” he asked.

“I need you, Vail.”

He blinked, understanding. His grip on the silk was tight and not at all sure. “I warn you, this could end disastrously.”

“Trust me,” she said, and she lashed her tongue up his bare abdomen. “Trust yourself, Vail.”

 

W
HEN WITH
V
AIL
, the world slipped away and a blissful peace overtook her. It wasn't wrong, in the wake
of her mother's death, to want to connect, to feel, to seek confirmation that she was loved.

She unzipped Vail's pants, and he let them slide down to land upon the mats. Ten feet above the ground, they hung suspended, their bodies relying upon each other for support.

Lyric fitted herself in the silks so her support was a cradle of fabric bracing her elbows. Spreading her legs, she wrapped them about Vail's hips and lowered onto his cock. “Don't let go,” she whispered.

“Let go? I'm trying not to come right away. Lyric, this is incredible. We're flying and having sex.”

She tilted back and jerked her head to the right, which set them to a sway, and then Vail felt her intention and moved his body with hers. They spun out widely, joined together and flying.

He spread out his arms, completely supported by the silks twisted at his thighs, and cried out as climax shuddered through his body. She wrapped her arms and legs tightly about him, feeding off his tremors. And they spun slowly and descended to the mats together.

They settled onto the thick mats in a tumble of arms, legs and laughter. “That was amazing.”

When she laughed, Lyric tilted her head to the side to expose the sweep of her pale neck.

Vail stroked his fingers along her neck, sweeping aside strands of dark hair that she preferred golden but knew he would admire in any color so long as he could touch it.

Bending, he touched his nose to her neck, beside the pulsing vein.

“Thanks for being here when I needed you most,” she said. “I feel like I could get through anything with you. You're the rock I've never had.”

Kissing her neck, he licked her skin. “What if I need you to be my rock? Lyric, I feel something…. I've felt it since we left my place. I think it's the blood hunger. I know now is not the right time—”

“Now is the best time, lover.” She curled her hand at the back of his head and gently pulled him to her neck.

Brushing his lip over the tender vein, he gauged the steady thrum of blood beneath the surface. Her life.

His sustenance. If he would take it.

Did he want it? Could he release all the years of lies and deception Cressida had instilled in his soul, the idea that ichor had only ever sustained him?

Dare he?

“Take what you will,” she whispered. “I'm yours, Vaillant.”

V
AIL WILLED DOWN
his fangs. The tingle in his gums always stirred his hunger, and this time was no different, save for the tight clutch in his gut. Nervous, then. But some inner beast roared forward and demanded it be fed what it had always been denied.

The darkness Cressida had tamed, he would now set free.

Pricking a fang against Lyric's flesh, he did not open the skin, only testing as he dragged it over the thick, enticing vein. She hissed with pleasure. Her body arched against his, making him instantly erect. He clasped her breast, filling his palm with her roundness. And still, he lingered, pointed fang to smooth skin.

Could he do this?

He'd been inside her with his cock, thrusting deeply and taking from her what he desired, and giving pleasure in return. They knew how to satisfy one another. But the sex was not a means to bond.

Only the blood could forever entwine them.

“I love you, Lyric.”

As she whispered, “Yes,” Vail sank his fangs into her skin. They entered with ease, and hot blood spurted against the roof of his mouth. It dripped onto his tongue, and he retracted his fangs to swirl the flavor about his palate.

He moaned as the intensity of Lyric's being struck him. Hot. Bold. Sweet. Sexy. It was like no ichor he'd ever consumed.

And he wanted more.

He pressed his mouth over the entry points and fed upon her life. Her hand slid up his torso, clinging but not demanding, just touching, the curves of her nails cutting a gentle claim into his soul. She tilted her head farther back and he caught it with his palm, holding her in an embrace three mortal decades in the making.

An embrace that would have been impossible had he decided to put on the May bell bracelet. This embrace fed him the strength and power he'd not known he was missing until now.

Straddling her hips, he knelt, drawing her up in the cradle of his arms, and fed on his lover's blood. Swallowing it, sucking it, savoring it for the perfect blend that it was. Falling into the crimson salvation of Lyric.

Lyric inside of him.

Lyric becoming him.

He, becoming Lyric.

“Lover,” he whispered against her neck, dashing out his tongue to slick over a droplet. “Lyric, mine.”

She hugged him, melding her body against his. As
he moved, the hanging silks brushed his bare back. And the darkness within Vail expanded. It pulsed with a life of its own, a beautiful darkness that he snatched out to claim.

His fangs descended again, and he bent to bite into the high curve of her breast. Lyric cried out in pleasure. Her fingernails gashed his back and shoulders, but she did not break skin. He wanted her to. He wanted to bleed for her.

“This is what I've hungered for,” he muttered against her breast, licking, and then sucking. “You, Lyric. Your blood.”

“I love you, Vail.”

He laughed against her skin, and kissed her over the bite marks that swelled the flesh. “Yes.” Another kiss along her throat. And one kiss to each puncture on her skin. “Yes, and yes.”

And he sank his fangs into her neck again, below the previous bite, and let the blood flow down his throat and sweep him to oblivion.

 

H
E HELD HER
in the cradle of his arms, and she floated beyond the moment and into another space that could only ever be occupied by Vail and her. That he'd trusted her to take her blood was beyond words, but the way he claimed her now took away her breath.

A fierce gentleness held her captive. At her neck he mastered her. At her breast he teased and tasted her. At her lips, he now kissed her, the taste of her blood on his tongue. She devoured his need, his urgent want and desire. It was all she desired.

Sliding a leg along Vail's hip, she opened herself to allow him to penetrate her doubly. The swollen head of his cock intruded into her wetness at the same time his fangs pierced her breast. Vail growled that delicious wanton tone.

She was his.

 

A
FTER A SHOWER
, Lyric slipped on a red jersey dress that clung to her curves, then eyed the thigh-high black suede boots in her closet. Vail's hands slid down the fabric from behind her, and he kissed her neck where the bite marks had already healed, but she still felt tender. His touch reignited the hum of pleasure the bite had given her, and she wanted him to do it again, and again.

But they needed to reconcile more important things before they could lose themselves completely in this new and lasting bond.

“I can see your red, ashy aura now,” he said.

“I can feel your shimmer.”

“I'm completely vampire.”

“You are. How do you feel about that?”

“Yippi-i-oo!”

Laughing, she slipped on the suede boots, which tied up the backs with a bright red ribbon. She posed for him and he nodded approvingly. Slicking his fingers through his soot-dark hair spiked it and gave it an Elvis swoosh. Her sexy lover waggled his eyebrows and delivered the bad-boy smirk that had attracted her even when she'd been afraid of him.

She loved the goth look on him now, but wouldn't
call it that. He had a style all his own. The steel-gray shirt studded in hematite buttons, the dark jacket that sported a line of spikes along the seam of each arm. All of it played into his appeal. Had he the faery ointment on his eyes, she would have to shove him onto the bed and take him again, so powerful was his dark glamour.

“What?” he asked, pausing from his preening to glance over his shoulder.

“Just looking at the sexiest man I've known,” she said. “Make that the sexiest vampire.”

“Vampire,” he said, as if trying on the word for the first time. “It works for me. I think Hawkes was right about me claiming my power. I feel great, Lyric, like a new man since taking your blood. It's weird, but I feel I can conquer nations and leap tall buildings, and—”

“Look through women's clothing with your X-ray vision?”

They laughed and sealed their shared happiness with a kiss that only lovers could share. Tongues danced and fangs pricked at lips. Sips of blood, sighs of pleasure led to her pulling down Vail's jacket and him sliding up her dress.

A courteous knock at her open bedroom door startled them. “Miss Santiago?”

The door opened inside and they turned to the driver, who stood holding a small box. It had to be Charish's ashes.

“Not now,” Vail said.

The man, a vampire Charish had turned only a
few years earlier, nodded and backed away, but Lyric sensed he wasn't sure about Vail.

“He'll want instructions,” she said, finding no sadness for the death of her mother now. She was in a better place, far from the aggressive command of her fiancé. “From the one in charge. Who is probably me, for now. I'll need to contact Leo. Not sure he'll want to step into my mother's role. Hell, I can't remember where he said he was going.”

“Berlin. You should call him. The two of you can create a new beginning for the family, if you wish,” said Vail.

That sounded wonderful. But she had no idea how to make the first step. And she knew Leo had no desire to take position as a leader of the Santiago clan. Her brother liked his freedom and his lack of alliances.

“Is there an advisor or someone your mother trusted who can assist you until you can get your bearings?”

“No, only…” Connor.

Vail nodded. “Constantine.”

“If I had known, I would have told you, Vail.”

“I know.” He kissed her forehead. “How could you have known? You should talk to the driver. I'll wait for you.”

“What are your plans now?”

“Today is the day the Seelie come for the gown. I have to find it.”

She kissed him quickly. “Give me a few minutes, and then we'll end this crazy gown chase for good.”

 

T
EN MINUTES LATER
, Lyric returned to her room and found Vail putting the faery ointment under his eyes. She dallied with the idea of tearing off his clothes and kneeling before him to pleasure him until his fingers gripped in her hair and a moan followed, but she couldn't erase the uneasy feeling she'd had since talking to the driver.

“The driver told me he thought he saw someone enter the mansion through the garden doors.”

“When?” Vail clasped her hand as they walked toward the south wing. “An intruder?”

“No, he said he entered with purpose as if he had a right and obviously an invite wasn't necessary, so it's someone who has been in the Santiago mansion previously. Many of Mother's men and the guards she employs have free run of the mansion. Whoever it is, they'll need to know what has happened.”

Ahead, the door to the conference room hung open. It was where Charish had held weekly meetings with her closest advisors, and where she kept, in a wall safe behind a treasured Dali painting, all the Santiago family's important financial information.

Lyric quickened her steps. When she rounded the door and entered the conference room's hazy morning light, her heart fell.

It was him.

Vail crowded up behind her in the doorway, but she stayed him with a hand to his arm. She hadn't expected it to happen this way, but now that they both stood here, she must act as liaison for this incredible meeting.

Lyric approached the man who stood at the far end of the conference table with caution. He waited, arms behind his back. Only once she'd seen the flash of broken fang he tried to keep concealed. Charish had told her it was the result of a tussle between him and another vampire. He may have been an imposing tribe leader centuries earlier, but now he looked tired, defeated. Desperate.

“Your mother is not around?” he asked, noting with vague interest Vail, who lingered in the doorway.

Lyric could sense Vail's increased heart rate. His heartbeats matched her own. A condition they would experience thanks to sharing each other's blood. “There's something I need to tell you, Connor.”

“Constantine?”

The room grew cold as Vail marched inside and stopped at the opposite end of the table from where the old vampire stood. Lyric would have never wished for the meeting to go this way, but there was no stopping it now.

“Constantine de Salignac?” Vail asked.

“Yes,” Salignac answered, unimpressed with the vampire who had charged in. He was always dismissive toward Charish's men. “Who are you?”

Lyric felt Vail's sudden nervous tension stir her blood. His fists formed on the table. The pulse of his jaw intensified.

“Vaillant,” he offered, as if a question. “Do you know me?”

“Why should I?” Constantine tossed out. He narrowed his eyes, inspecting Vail too briefly, then
dropped his interest. “Where is your mother, Lyric? She's always here. We've business to attend.”

“Why don't you know me?” Vail insisted.

“Is this the man your mother hired to find you?” Constantine asked Lyric. “I'll pay you for your trouble if that's what you're waiting for,” he said to Vail.

“I can't believe this.” Vail clasped the air, and Lyric swung her hand to catch his. His fingers trembled. Were those tears in his eyes?

She glanced at Constantine, and for once, she really looked at him instead of trying to avoid his often leering gaze. His dark hair held no sheen, and was as dense as a moonless night. His blue eyes reflected none of the sunless daylight that forced its way through the bamboo shades. His square jaw and thick brows…she had touched many times when admiring her lover's face. This man was indeed Vail's father.

Vail whisked her out of the room before she could offer an introduction. Lyric twisted her arm from his grasp, yet followed his hasty retreat. “Where are we going? Don't you want to speak to your father?”

“Don't say that,” Vail said. “Don't give him a title he does not deserve. He doesn't know me. What the hell?”

“We should go back and talk to him. I'll introduce you two. I have to tell him about Charish.”

“Lyric?” Constantine called down the hallway. “Where's your mother?”

Vail ran toward the front door, Lyric's hand clasped in his. “I need to be away from here.”

Of course, if he'd found the one man he'd wanted
to meet all his life—and that man hadn't a clue who he was… Hadn't Rhys Hawkes told his brother he'd a son?

“Sorry!” she called back to Connor—Constantine, or whoever he was. “There's an emergency!”

Lyric ran along with Vail to the limo parked haphazardly in the driveway.

“I'll drive,” she offered, and Vail got into the passenger side. The sun was masked by gray clouds, yet she flipped on the UV protection, which slid over the windows. She spun out of the driveway.

“Fuck!” Vail punched the dashboard, cracking the hard plastic. “He doesn't know me? How is that possible? Didn't Rhys tell him?”

“We could go back and ask—”

“No! Just get me away from here.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere. Just drive.”