Chapter Twelve
After a full half hour, the bubbles faded inside the vat.
Kelly peered down anxiously, looking for any sign of life. Atticus had insisted
that Lissa go to the house. Ian had emerged from the shadows, looking much
worse for wear after being subdued by a dozen of Gibson’s goons, to escort her.
Atticus asked him to make sure his wife stayed inside the mansion. Whatever
happened next, it was better to keep the number of people involved to a
minimum.
Kelly screamed, caught off guard when Marc rose suddenly
from the vat with a great whoosh of force as wine spilled all around. His skin
was red from both the wine and his injuries, his eyes mad, flickering red in
their depths, and she knew he was not himself. It broke her heart to see him
like this…so close to the edge of utter madness.
With a peace in her heart she didn’t expect, Kelly gave in
when he grabbed her, hauling her close to his wet body and tearing into the
strong pulse at her neck. The pain was nothing when compared to the pain of
seeing Marc in such a state. She’d give anything to restore him—up to and
including her life.
He drank greedily and without any finesse, his main
objective to feed quickly and strongly from any available human. It didn’t
matter who or how. It didn’t matter in his unreasoning mind if he killed. The
idea of killing his prey didn’t even register, he was so far gone.
The sweetness of her blood strengthened him like nothing he
could have imagined. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had the thought that
this human was special in some way, but the agonizing pain overrode any real rational
thought. He drank and drank, feeling himself gaining strength as the moments
wore on. His pain started to ebb around the time he felt her heart flutter, her
breath gasping weakly against his neck, and her body going completely limp in
his arms. He drew back, a furrowed brow the only sign that his sanity was
returning.
He frowned down at her, then looked around. He was standing
in a vat of burgundy, his torso burning with pain and the most beautiful woman
he’d ever seen, dying in his arms. Another was there too. Atticus, he
remembered suddenly, as the other man strode forward.
“Marc?” Atticus’s voice was tentative, searching for his
friend within the monster he’d just seen.
“Atticus. What happened? Who is she?”
Atticus strode more confidently up to his friend, looking
down at the woman Marc seemed disinclined to release.
“She is your mate.”
“
Dieu
! Kelly!” It all came back in a rush as Marc
checked her for signs of life. She was barely hanging on. He sensed it was only
a matter of moments before she left him forever, and he knew he would die then
himself. There was no way he could carry on without her, especially knowing
that he’d killed her in his blind, horrible pain. He had been the monster from
Lissa’s vision. He’d been the one they needed to protect Kelly from all along.
The knowledge left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“There’s only one thing to do.” Atticus eyed his friend
gravely.
Marc nodded. “I wanted to give her time to get used to the
idea. I didn’t want to force her to this, but I have no choice.” He caressed
her pale cheek, taking a moment to shapeshift one of his long fingers into a
claw sharp enough to make a clean cut across his wrist. He coaxed her mouth to
the open vein. It was important that this first blood exchange be as thorough
as possible. He wanted her to wake strong and…immortal, like him.
Kelly woke in her bedroom, Marc’s warm, naked body wrapped
around her equally bare form. She felt achy and a little odd. For just a
moment, she didn’t quite remember what had happened, then it came back to her
in a rush.
Something inside her told her the sun was setting though
she’d never been internally aware of such things before. She felt decidedly
different, but was almost afraid to ask herself why. She knew Marc was awake
even before he spoke. He didn’t move a muscle, yet she was aware of him, in her
mind, in her heart, in her very soul.
“I love you, Kelly. You must believe that.”
She thought about the desperation she heard in his voice for
a moment, not quite understanding, but willing to take him as seriously as he
sounded. His arms imprisoned her from behind and would not let her turn to look
at him. She let it go for now. She felt the desperation in his embrace as well.
“I believe it.” Her voice was sure, but still weak. She
cleared her throat and tried again. “I don’t understand it, but I believe you.”
He sighed, his breath rushing out against the nape of her
neck. She felt his tension ease as he loosened his hold so she could turn
around to face him. His eyes were sad and full of regret, but above all, she
could see the love shining in them. Love for her.
“I’m so glad you’re alive.” She cupped his stubbly cheek
with one hand. He turned slightly to place a tender kiss in her palm.
“You saved me,
mon amour
. Your love saved me.”
“But what happened after…?” She trailed off, trying to
remember, but all she could recall was his glowing, mad eyes and then profound
darkness.
He soothed her, stroking her back gently. “I’m sorry, my
love. I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” She was starting to really wonder now. He was
acting strangely—even for him.
“For attacking you when I was out of my mind. For taking
away your choice. For bringing you over without your knowledge.” He appeared to
brace himself for her reaction, but she was stunned.
“You made me like you?”
“It was the only way to save your life. In my madness, I
nearly killed you. It was the only way to keep you alive.”
“I would have died?” Intellectually, she’d known she was
very likely trading her own life for his. Atticus had told her how out of his
mind Marc would be when he came out of the vat, but to hear him say it so
starkly still shocked her. She’d been prepared to die to save Marc, but the
question remained, was she willing to live as a vampire?
Marc had given her the choice…before. Now the choice was
taken out of her hands. Whether to live with Marc as a mortal and die together
at the end of her natural span of years, or to allow him to change her into an
immortal that needed blood and lust to live was the choice she’d been faced
with. She honestly didn’t know how she would have solved that little conundrum
had the choice not been taken from her by fate.
She could see that Marc was agonizing over her reaction. She
also knew that he could read most, if not all of her thoughts. He would know
the truth of her feelings, no matter what she tried to tell him, so it was
worth thinking through and reasoning out.
In an odd sort of way, she was glad the decision had been
made for her. She didn’t want to give him up, and she didn’t want to be the
cause of his premature death if she’d chosen to remain mortal. She didn’t doubt
for one moment that he’d meant what he’d said about living out her lifespan,
then choosing death when she died of old age. She couldn’t bear the thought of
that.
Yet, she found, suddenly all of that didn’t matter. If he
was to be believed, she was immortal. She would live forever, barring
unforeseen circumstances, and she could share that time with him. Her spirits
perked up. This was going to be okay. So, she’d have to drink blood. The thought
still repulsed her, but then, so did liver, asparagus and caviar, but she’d
eaten them all at one time or another. She could do what she had to do to
survive. Even if it meant biting some poor guy on the neck every once in a
while.
Marc growled. “The only man you will ever bite is me,
mon
amour
, so don’t even entertain the thought of drinking another’s blood.”
“I only have to bite you?” She snuggled closer to him.
“Suddenly the idea has possibilities.”
She gave him a devilish smile, which he returned full blast.
He took her breath away when he smiled like that.
His mate was even more precious than he’d known. Not many
women would have forgiven him so easily. Not that he wanted any other woman
ever again. She was it for him. She was his one and only. His mate, for all
time.
He was the happiest of men. His joy bubbled over and spilled
into her, his smile touching both souls, joined as they were.
“I love you, my mate.”
His lips found hers in a torrent of love, joy and need. He
kissed his way down her throat, pausing at her pulse, knowing that this, her
first feeding, would be special for both of them. He placed her on the bed,
ridding them of the covers with one hard tug. They billowed out behind them to
the floor, unnoticed.
“You will drink from me as I join with you, body and blood.
Don’t be afraid, Kelly. This is as it was meant to be between us.”
She nodded, swallowing hard. Her eyes were enormous in her
beloved face, her fear of what was to come shadowed only by her desire. Which
was the stronger of the two was yet to be seen.
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
“I believe in you,
cherie
. You will do what you must
so that we both may live and thrive. Never forget that I love you. You are the
other half of my soul.”
She smiled softly. “When you say it like that, I can’t deny
you a thing, Marc. You’re downright dangerous.”
“Never to you. Never again.” His eyes were serious, his lips
curving in invitation as he moved over her. “I will protect you from all harm
for the rest of our nights. I will love you, honor you and give you sustenance
as you sustain me.”
He rubbed against her, his hardness sliding into its home
between her legs, though not within her just yet. He felt her slick heat
against his aroused skin and grinned.
“I want you inside me, Marc.” She tugged at his shoulders,
but he didn’t move.
“You’re so impatient, my little love. All in good time.”
“I’m going to die here, if you don’t get a move on!”
“You will never die,
mon amour
. Not now. Not ever.
You will stay here with me, and when it is time for us to move on to the next
realm, we will do so together. Do you understand?”
He couldn’t help the fear that shot through him. She felt it
too, he knew, echoing his emotions through their link, but he couldn’t control
it. When he’d come to his senses with her life draining away in his arms, he’d
known a panic the likes of which he never cared to feel again. She would not
leave him. She could not.
She must have understood his desperation because she tugged
him closer, kissing his face with tender touches. He allowed himself to be
pulled down into her warm embrace.
“I’m here, Marc. I’m not going to leave you. Not ever. I
love you.”
To hell with waiting. He’d love her slow the next time, but
right now, he had to join with her. He had to be inside her, body, mind and blood.
His passion flared, and he knew she felt it.
He felt the resulting echo of her joy and passion as her
body rose to meet his. With one long, hard thrust, he shoved home, finding his
place inside her tight body.
He groaned as he thrust within her, knowing she welcomed him
in every way. He could feel her mind opening to him and soon he’d take her
blood into his body as she would his. He could hardly hold himself in check,
just thinking about it.
Slowly, he began to move in and out of her tight pussy.
“Do you feel the need building? Do your teeth ache with the
need to expand into fangs?”
He knew she was feeling the ache of her first fangs, and he
had to guide her through this first small change. He moved deeper into her mind
as well as her body, bringing rhythm to them both as he gave her a gentle,
mental nudge toward the change of which she was so afraid. He witnessed the
surprise in her mind as her canine teeth elongated into the sharp, piercing
fangs that would allow her to feed from him.
“Marc?” She was uncertain, he knew, but willing to follow
where he led. God, how he loved her.
“I’m with you, love. It’s okay.” He lowered his head,
nuzzling her. “Lick my neck just below the ear,” he coached in an excited
whisper, “find the pulse with your tongue.”
He nearly came as she followed his instructions, but held
himself ruthlessly in check. This first time they would come together as they
fed together. As it was meant to be.
He licked her in return, showing her without words how to
zero in on the pulsing throb that meant sustenance to their kind. He groaned as
she teethed him, teasing him as only a vampire lover could. He hadn’t made love
to many fanged women in his time, but he’d been with enough to think eagerly of
the ways they could play together as she became more comfortable with her new
strength and abilities.
They had a lot to look forward to.
“Bite me, Marc!”
Her plea rang through his heart, surprising him into action.
She was ready.
He bit down, through her delectable skin and into her
pulsing essence. Her taste flooded his mouth at the same moment he felt her
first hard bite. His face buried in her throat as hers was in his, he could
only groan against her skin as she took her first tentative sips from his body.
She moaned in pleasure, and he knew all would be well when
she sucked harder at his pulse, demanding more. Her fears were still in the
back of her mind, but the hunger for her mate was stronger at the moment. He
pulsed within her, and she took all he could give and demanded more. He was
nearly out of control. She was precious, his mate, and perfect for him.
He stroked into her as her essence flowed into his body,
reviving his cells as his blood restored her in return. The psi energy of their
mating was strong. It pulsed in them both, feeding their need for blood and
lust at the same time—the way only mates could do.
It couldn’t last forever. Marc neared his climax even as she
began to shiver and shake around him. Her mouth stayed on his throat even as
she screamed in their shared minds, her orgasm overtaking her and dragging him
over the edge into the blissful oblivion of her body.