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Dark Harmony
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Published by arrangement with the authors and copyright holders of the individual works as follows:
Dark Harmony (c) 2009 by Lilly Cain
Cover (c) 2009 by Rae Monet, Inc.
Printed in the U.S.A.
ebook layout and conversion by jimandzetta.com
Dark Harmony
\*\*\*
By Lilly Cain
TO MY READER:
I'm really excited to bring you Lena and Richard's story! In a world where nightmares sometimes sneak up on us, it's wonderful to find a place where the good guys still win - even if they do have fangs.
Dark Harmony: Chapter One
London - Spring, 1981
The bar was hopping, full of people, lights, and sound. Helena Townsend sipped her drink and laid it on the bar counter. It had definitely been worth coming out tonight, her last night in London before she returned to her job in the United States. This place is alive. Her nose wrinkled at the tang of pot that hung in the air, and she threaded through the crowd toward the dance floor, a few steps lower than the bar level. The dancers rocked and twisted to the music. She looked out over them, enjoying the scene before she joined in.
From across the floor he watched her. Tall, blond, drop-dead fantastic, he stood apart from the crowd, just as she did. His eyes held hers and a slow sizzle began low in Helena's belly. She licked suddenly dry lips. He walked toward her through the packed dancers. People shifted aside to let him pass, but she found she couldn't move.
"I'm Darien. Dance with me." The pounding music swirled around him like fog, parting for the deep timbre of his voice.
The tune changed from a fast rock beat to something slower, a power ballad. He smiled and she shivered as the heat in her body surged, pooling in her breasts and pussy with a force that made her gasp. He held out his hand and she took it, breathless as he led her to the center of the dance floor. With his long blonde hair and piercing eyes, he looked as though he could be one of the singers, a heavy metal god.
They danced for hours, moving together each time a slower song soared through the heavy air. Helena pressed closer to her dancing partner. Every curve of her body that touched his sent quivers of desire through her. Darien danced slowly. His tall, muscular frame swayed against her, and his hands caressed her back through her thin cotton blouse.
Loving you Sunday Morning floated out from the speakers, encouraging the dancers to cuddle their partners closer. Couples crowded the small dance floor as the persuasive guitars invited the crowd to consider sweet, slow-paced sex. God knew Helena was considering it.
The aroma of spice rose from his skin. She laid her face against his chest to draw his scent deeper into her body. Although she didn't usually go for blondes, Darien's height and his velvety bass voice caught her attention as no man had in some time.
The song drew to a close, and he held her, looking down into her face. His eyes were dark, his pupils huge despite the flashing dance lights. His lips held a soft smile.
"Let's go for a walk." His deep voice vibrated through her, starting a resonance low in her belly.
She shivered. She never went anywhere with strangers, and this man, Darien, was that. She'd only known him this one night, these few hours of dancing. But, good Lord, he was sexy. And it had been a while since she'd been this turned on. A long while, maybe never. She could admit it to herself. For a long time her fantasies had been better than any man.
"Don't be afraid, Helena. I simply want to be with you and to taste those full lips."
"O-kay," she stuttered. Her voice sounded ridiculously soft against the noise of the guitar solo, but whether he heard her or saw it in her eyes, he immediately began to lead her toward the bar's side exit. She used to love to come here and dance. It had been months since her mother's death, and in all that time she hadn't returned to a bar until tonight. She hadn't needed the press of people to remind her she was alone in the world now.
Perhaps she'd been avoiding people. Her clothes brushed against the throng of other dancers as they wound through the mass of people crowding the bar. It almost seemed as though they were tugging on her blouse, catching their fingers in the soft ripped edges of her denim skirt. Each touch made her more aware of her growing arousal, her tightly peaked nipples, and the heat that radiated from her pussy. Music roared from the stage, some new raw heavy metal band pumping out sound. The drums pounded a heavy beat that echoed the blood pulsing through her veins.
Finally, they reached the door and pushed past the bouncer. Cool night air slid around her neck and beneath her long black hair. For a moment she hesitated, and then Darien was pulling her to the sidewalk and hailing a cab.
"I thought we were going for a walk," she said.
He looked back at her, amused. "Helena, you don't want to do this in an alley, do you?"
Her heart pounded wildly. There was no mistaking what he meant. "Not really."
The cab ride was swift, most of it lost to his heated kisses. As his tongue thrust into her mouth, she opened her lips for him and let the sensation wash over her. Cascades of sparks danced down her body until they pulsed at her hot clit. When had she become so wanton? She wondered at her behavior even as she allowed his hand to slide up her skirt.
"I never do this sort of thing," she gasped.
"I know."
God, the way he smelled, like cloves mixed with saffron and musk. She wriggled closer to him. His fingertips grazed the lips of her pussy. She could have ripped off her clothes then and there, but the cabbie spoke up to tell them they'd arrived.
The local Hilton had never looked so inviting.
"I've got a room." His voice rang deeper than ever, its low peal humming down her spine.
His steps as eager as hers, they dashed to the elevator. The instant the sliding doors closed, he pulled her to him. His long-fingered hands cupped her ass through her skirt and his mouth devoured hers again. She stroked the taut, lean muscle of his back. She couldn't think. His mouth left hers to kiss and lick a path to her throat, and she groaned aloud with need. He nipped at her neck and the quick pain made her gasp. Desire flooded her senses.
The elevator doors opened with a chime, and they stepped out as one, their bodies pressed as tightly together as possible while still managing to rush toward his room. Helena's mind was reeling. She staggered off-balance as he let go for a moment to unlock and open the door to his room. Why was she so dizzy? She put a hand to her throat and felt wetness. When she looked down at her hand, she saw blood.
"I'm bleeding." Her voice caught in disbelief.
He grabbed her arm, wrenching her through the open door and into the dark room. Faster than she thought possible, the door slammed tight and the lock clicked shut.
"I'm bleeding!" she said again, louder, panicked.
"I know." He pulled her hand to his mouth and licked at the blood on her fingers. She wanted to scream, but couldn't. The heat of his mouth and the sound of his soft moan froze her in his arms as the room whirled around them.
As his tongue rasped her fingertips, her heart pounded again and not from lust. It was so damn dark in the room, she could barely see a thing. Only a crack of light from the bathroom door and the faint glow from the half-draped window allowed her to glimpse his face. His cold eyes glittered with the tiny amount of light. She felt odd, sick. She tried to pull her arm away, throwing her weight away from him, but he didn't budge. Her attempts to pull away from his awful licking were useless. His height and strength, so arousing earlier, were terrifying now. Worse, as she scanned the shadowy room for some weapon or way to escape, she caught a movement.
They weren't alone.
She opened her mouth to scream, but it was covered quickly by a hand, not Darien's. Behind her she felt the brush of another body, female, perhaps. As she struggled harder, two other bodies pressed against her. Hands ripped at her clothes. It was like the crowded dance floor at the bar, but more violent. Glimpses of the men and women surrounding her flashed in the available light. Gleaming eyes, soft lips, long hair, they were beautiful, and they laughed at her.
Her blouse tore under their touch. Darien released her hand and pressed his lips to her throat, softly licking and kissing her skin. His heat burned against her fear, and her body responded despite the shock of what was happening around her. The confining hand dropped from her mouth. Her lips parted and he kissed her. The dizzy, confusing fear receded as he stroked her now-bare breasts. That scent of crushed cloves was sharp, and she stilled in his arms.
What the hell was wrong with her? She was being molested by a group of psychotic fashion models, and she should be screaming. Instead, it had to be the most erotic and exciting thing she'd ever experienced. It was as if she were watching some strange pornographic film, wildly sensual and a touch frightening, but it was okay because it wasn't really happening to her. She stood naked now in their hands, uncertain as to when or how she'd lost her skirt. She could no longer look away from Darien's eyes. He pinned her gaze with a heat that held her entire body still.
"This is my pack, Helena. They need you like I need you. You're so beautiful and responsive. Relax. Enjoy this. You were meant for this. Your body was designed to delight the senses." He nuzzled his lips over her cheek and breathed in deep against her skin. "Your skin is like silk. You smell like sin. And you taste so good. Soon you will be completely mine."
Her fear became uncertainty. His voice sent shivers down her spine, a path immediately followed by the sensual caress of a stranger. Relax? And yet she was no longer on her feet. They were lifting her to the king-sized bed at the center of the room. The breeze caused by their moving bodies caressed her naked skin. Despite her confusion she was wet, and, she realized with a sort of dismay, she was aroused enough to want what was happening, whatever it was. She'd never experienced the kinky side of sex.
The soft bed now under her, they crowded around her in the darkness as Darien stood aside. They spread her arms and legs open on what had to be raw silk sheets, the nap of the silk so soft it made her skin seem rough. The shadows hid their exact number, and Darien's spicy scent was mixed now with others. The blended scent seemed to pour over her skin, and even through it. With every breath she took she became more aroused and less caring of the strangeness of it all. Soft moans of appreciation and the hiss of clothes being discarded gave her hints of those that were moving around her.
They never let go, but her urge to run seemed to have evaporated under their hot touch. In fact, she was perfectly still, waiting for their first touch. She felt hot and wet, her nipples so hard they ached. No one moved and she squirmed, just a tiny bit to ease the ache low in her body. The anticipation drew a shudder from deep inside her.
That was it, the movement they must have been watching for, a signal that she wanted this. Sudden pain slashed at her wrist, even as the soft stroke of a finger against her hot core enflamed her lust. What the hell was happening? She gasped as she felt a mouth clasp to her throbbing wrist.
Darien didn't join in as his pack engulfed her. She couldn't see the details, but she knew none of the hands that held her were his. Soon both wrists were held to the mouths of strangers even as a third member of the pack licked at her inner thighs. The long hair of a woman tickled her skin as a hot and nimble tongue worked its way to her clit. Pain quickly ebbed as the pleasure climbed and she found herself moaning and pressing her pussy against the thrusting tongue of a stranger.
She was snared by the many caresses. There was no chance of escape. That thought comforted her. She no longer had to worry about why she didn't want to break away. In her surrender she found the freedom to enjoy everything that was happening to her. Her most secret fantasies had come to life and dragged her into their world.
It was a seduction, an opening of her senses to light pain and lust as she was stroked, licked, and tasted by them all. No one held her down now. She writhed against them, overwhelmed with the sensations. Kisses roamed her body and then centered on her breasts. She closed her eyes to the shadowed motions around her and simply experienced the sensations, gasping as she was lifted, her hips rocking open.
Their skin burned against hers. They never stopped moving and stroking her everywhere. Their fingertips burned lines of sensation over her skin. The sound of the pack's breaths came in excited little pants, and her own cries sounded much louder as she writhed against their flesh. The harsh and exotic scents of crushed spices mingled like smoke with the musky aroma of sex. She'd fantasized about having more than one lover. This was so much more than she'd dreamed.
Helena reached out to blindly stroke the short, coarse hair of a man suckling her breast and was rewarded with soft moans of pleasure. Her eyes flicked open and she found her vision had slowly adjusted to the available light. Her eyes met those of the woman licking her pussy with such exquisite care.
Her nipples throbbed and her clit pulsed in her first orgasm with a woman's mouth on her pussy. The third bite didn't seem as bad as teeth quickly sank into the flesh of her thigh. It certainly didn't stop the second orgasm she reached as a shadowy figure of a man slowly spread lubricant over the sensitive opening to her ass with his thumb. He pressed into her as his fingers quickly flicked her clit.
She moaned as she was suddenly lifted. A man, gloriously naked and sinfully hot, slid beneath her. His thick cock thrust between her legs. Another bite nipped at her breast. The biting mouth could suck at her nipple as it fed from her blood. It struck her then that they were actually feeding from her. Drinking her blood. She might have struggled again but Darien shoved aside those suckling her and rolled directly on top of her. She shuddered at the size of him, her vulnerability driving her excitement, pressed as she was on top of one man and set between two others.
Darien was huge. His massive erection lay outlined against the skin of her thigh. For a moment it seemed more frightening than the exciting. Jesus!
She couldn't move, and she was already spread wide for him and wetter than ever before. Every part of her seemed wet, sliding silkily against their hot, hot skin. She could smell sweat and blood and lust. Darien's mouth met hers in a possessive kiss, his tongue parting her lips even as he slowly pushed his cock into her folds.
The man beneath her must have been waiting for this moment. He put his hands on the cheeks of her ass and rocked her hips up, thrusting her further onto Darien even as the tip of his cock angled against the tiny hole of her ass. He felt slick and wet. Shock skittered through her as she realized what they intended to do.
"Relax, little alpha. I'm Evan, Darien's second, and yours, very soon," the man beneath her whispered. She relaxed into the honey of his voice. What he told her made no sense, but it didn't matter, not now.
Deeper and deeper Darien pressed into her. The hot walls of her pussy wrapped around him as tightly as a fist and he groaned aloud into her mouth. As soon as he filled her completely, he pulled his lips from her to whisper her name.
"Helena. Now you are mine. The pack will be yours, but you will belong to me. Forever."
He began to withdraw and she opened her mouth to object. Her arms clamped around his torso only to have her soft protest transform into a moan as Evan relentlessly penetrated her from below. The more Darien withdrew, the more Evan pressed inside, until she was full again with a thick cock. It blew her mind. She felt open and dirty. Shameless. She wanted more.
"Yes." She struggled to open even further.
When Evan withdrew, Darien plunged again. The two men thrust alternately into her, the slight discomfort fluctuating wildly with pleasure. She once again felt the pain of teeth against her skin, this time in several places, but she could not bring herself to care.
Their soft sucking became linked to the throbbing deep in her center. And when Darien lowered his mouth to her neck she rose to meet him, lifting her chin to expose her throat more fully. The pain of his bite was more intense, but at that instant he and Evan both thrust hard into her, and the pain and pleasure fused. She screamed but not with fear, and convulsed with the power of her orgasm.
Then everything went black.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Two
Ireland - Early summer, 2009
Richard Heron set his beer mug on the table with carefully exaggerated ease. Condensation beaded on the unfortunately near-empty glass. Tasty stuff, this Irish brew. Here in the darkened corner of a tiny pub in the middle of nowhere, Ireland, with its lilting voices and tobacco-stained air, the beer went down like milk, even if he did have to insist it be served cold.
The musicians wound their way back toward the empty corner that functioned as their stage. Richard sat up straighter. He turned on his recorder and made a small note of the date as one man picked up an accordion and approached the stage microphone.
Richard traveled thousands of miles to see and hear bands like this one. Being here in person was invaluable for his research on music trends and fan reactions. The magazine paid well for his articles on trends, but fans would be the key to his first book. This decade's rock-and-roll had a fascination with Irish melody. He'd had to leave his seven-year-old daughter at home with her grandmother to come here, so every recorded minute was precious. It had to be, to make the separation from his family worthwhile.
The singer wove a tapestry of music, his voice the weft and the accordion the warp. Soon his companions joined in and the song gained in power. It was in Gaelic, something Richard had expected, but he'd studied a few key words, enough to know they sang of the love they had for the land. The vocalist had an allure Richard could respect, and envy, just a little. It had been a while since he'd felt that kind of power.
It had been a year since his wife's tortured body had been discovered at the club. Bite marks marring the white skin of her breasts and thighs, her throat ripped open, even the police wondering at the animalistic violence of it.
Richard forced his attention back on the band and its audience. The crowd grew still, captured by the song. The words and the feeling behind them washed over Richard. With fewer people moving, their faces fixed toward the performers, Richard noted with growing excitement the passion that played across their expressions.
The music streamed around the audience like a river, bending and flowing. It was now a song about war and freedom, two words he'd made special note of when studying Irish music. The sheer strength of the country's belief in these concepts rang clear in most of their harmonies. This was exactly what he was here for.
The second song was ending when he saw her standing near the middle of the crowd. She stood, not unaffected, but glowing with intensity, singing along with the band and half the audience. She dressed as a local in common wool and cotton, simple jeans and buff sweater, but she didn't look local. She stood nearly half a head taller than any woman in the room. As the song ended she glanced about the room, grinning widely. For a moment her eyes met his.
She was beautiful. She wore her hair swept back in long and lustrous black waves moored with a gold clasp. Her cheekbones were high and strong. Her deliciously soft lips curved in a smile for the band. It was easy to decide that he must meet her, easier still to resolve to do it this minute while her soul swelled with the music. Of course, the beer made the decision a bit quicker. He rose unsteadily, noticing then as the blood rushed to his head that the brew he'd consumed was quite a bit stronger than his usual American draft.
The sentiment of the audience rose to a nearly palpable level. More of the audience stood, shouting the chorus along with the band. He lost sight of her. People raised their mugs to salute the musicians, and Richard found the bar suddenly stifling. He couldn't see her anywhere.
His wife Rhonda had disappeared, too, playing a game he knew nothing about with a dom no one recognized. She'd never come back. The thought brought a bitter taste to his mouth and an unexpected flutter of fear to his heart. Control it. He ordered his mind to put a damper on his emotions once again, but the alcohol seemed to delay the message.
Twenty minutes later, he conceded defeat. The girl was gone. No one knew her. After Richard questioned several amazingly useless patrons, the bartender suggested none too kindly that if he couldn't hold his ale, he'd have to leave. Richard took the suggestion and strode out the heavy wooden door and into the quiet street.
The crisp night air cleared his thoughts. He breathed deeply, straightening his shoulders and stretching the tension from his body. Darkness wrapped around him as he stepped away from the bar's entrance. A light breeze lifted the hair on the back of his neck, and he shivered. Motion caught his eye and he turned to catch the source of the movement.
"Hello." The soft greeting sounded in his ear when he could have sworn he was alone.
It was her, the singer from the audience. He took a step toward her, drawn by her voice and by the sweet curve of her lips into the shadows.
\*\*\*
The appearance of the stranger from the bar was an opportunity not to be missed. Earlier, the crowd between them must have thrown off her senses for she'd had no idea he stood so tall or was quite this handsome. His eyes were a bright blue and his hair was a little longer than it should be, but it made up for the lack of style with its wild dark curls that just begged to be touched. So did his lips. They pouted now, as they had when he couldn't find her in the bar. Lena had seen him as he searched, his desire enflaming her hunger.
"Looking for me?" She stepped deeper into the shadow at the corner of the building, drawing him with her through the sheer power of his curiosity.
"Who are you?" He reached out as though to touch her arm.
"No one. A stranger, like you. Hungry, like you."
"Hungry?"
She had maneuvered him further into the alley. Lena held his gaze with her own, judging with vampiric senses the power of his emotions. She couldn't read thoughts, but she could feel what he felt. Curiosity, that appeared to be an integral part of his soul. Loneliness, not unusual in a foreign land. And darker threads of desire.
"I'd like a kiss." She lowered her voice to invite him closer.
She stepped toward him for the first time. His heart, she could hear it beating faster. The tiny throbbing pulse at the base of his neck pounded. She felt the heat of his blood spreading through his veins and pulsing into his groin. Still, he took a tiny step backward at her advance. Ah, a little self-preservation. It brought a wry smile to her lips.
The power of the night called to her, even as the energy of the music had reached her through the emotions it raised in the audience. Aggression, that edge of passion that made the living so vital and their lives so short, radiated from the Irish songs of war. The excitement flowing from the living audience emboldened her.
A few minutes surrounded by heartbeats pounding out the rhythm of the war anthem had charged her batteries. That pure emotion fed her soul. Now she craved other, bodily, nourishment. She began the change, dropping her fangs from their sheaths. A quick slide of her tongue over her teeth drew a drop of her own blood, a taste so sweet some would die for it. But not tonight. She was no killer, not any longer.
"Uh," he floundered, probably reaching for some social protocol that she didn't need to hear, not now.
"Just a kiss." She brushed her breasts against his chest, delighted with the soft blush that rose to his cheeks.
He dropped his knapsack and grabbed her waist. He drew her in and wrapped his other arm around her back, cupping the back of her neck. His movements were quick, smooth, and surprising. He had been mesmerized by her only moments before. Perhaps even a little subconsciously frightened. Now his dark threads of lust and need wrapped around her in widening cords, pulling her in, even as his lips pressed against hers and demanded the kiss she hadn't really meant to give.
He tasted like beer...smoke...a vital maleness.
She barely had time to withdraw her fangs. Their tongues danced and mated. For a moment that was enough. His scent was a wild mixture of lust and human blood and danger. Then his hands roved, one running down her side even as the other deftly unclipped her hair. The heat from his body crushed against her and burned until she could see nothing other than the blaze between them.
The clatter of her hairclip hitting the pavement snapped her back to her senses. She panted loudly in the quiet night, sounds of the bar a muffled backdrop to the soft groan of desire that vibrated along her throat.
Now it was Lena who pushed away. His aggressiveness and her unexpected response were not what she needed. She licked her lips. She needed blood. But, perhaps, not from him, after all. Not if her body was going to betray her. A shudder rippled down her spine. She must always be on guard. She could never submit to her hunger, not like this, not any more than she would ever again submit her will to a man. That she would allow this man to control things for even a moment--a cold finger of fear touched her heart.
He reached for her, lust still coating his emotions in a dark velvet blanket. It would be easy to climb under it with him. She could pull him away from the alley, away from the town and into the woods. Roll with him on the forest ground, their bodies naked and writhing. Instead, she turned and ran.
"Hey, wait. I'm sorry," he called after her.
"It's not your fault. I have to go." She paused in her flight only long enough to shout back.
"But I don't know your name."
His voice was faint. She was gaining ground. As she ran, the anthem from the bar concert, all glory and honor, roared in her ears. Such fantastic power pulled from a few human voices and simple instruments. The song blended with her still heated blood. She'd nearly lost control. She'd wanted that man, and she'd wanted a lot more than his blood. How could she want someone who could control her? Darien had ruled her every move. She needed freedom after his ruthless domination, and so she must crush any hint that she might desire strength in a man.
The chemistry with this stranger was far more than she'd bargained for. Why? It had been years since she'd felt any excitement about a man other than Darien. Being the center of a man's attention, an attractive man's attention, had been dangerous for her before. It was stupid to get involved. Despite her flicker of desire, this man must remain a stranger.
She strode faster, faster, stretching her long legs and leaning into the momentum of the pacing run her kind had perfected long ago. As ever, the sheer speed brought a gasp of pleasure to her lips. It was akin to flying. She faltered only when a voice spoke suddenly beside her ear.
"Hello, love. Movin' along again, are we?"
A man in black jeans and a leather jacket appeared out of the darkness. His straight chestnut hair flowed behind him as he ran. She regained her pace and sneered at him, but still he loped alongside her. Evan, the pack's scout and bloodhound. Once he had been her second, but he hadn't been able to stand up to Darien anymore than she had.
"Hello, Evan. I'm moving. You're pestering."
"But, Helena, you barely stayed a moment at the pub. Not even long enough to have a drink."
She glared at him. Clearly, the blood on his lips didn't belong to him. "And I see you've been gorging again. Couldn't you have savored the passion?"
He grinned, the expression humorless in the cold starlight. "Oh, but I did. She was passionate in her living and in her dying. Only you can live on the sentiment of some old lyric." He slid a hand inside his jacket and pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket. He dabbed at the bright red blood on his mouth and dropped the bit of cotton to the ground without losing his stride. Her stomach rolled. Perhaps she wouldn't stop to feed tonight, after all.
They ran on for a moment, undaunted by darkness, the trees brushing their sides as they loped through forest. Finally, he spoke again. "Are you headed home, Helena?"
"No."
"We miss you."
She glanced at him and saw his smiling face as she once had, full of promises. "I'm Lena. Helena is long dead."
His smile faded, and he slipped away from her, changing his pace until she could no longer see him. But she could hear him still with her vampiric senses, and he knew it. "We'll wait, Helena."
"Not long enough," she breathed.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Three
People crammed the tiny airport and Richard glared at the press of flesh around him. He put a hand to his pounding head. The plain toast he'd forced down for breakfast sat in his stomach like lead. Oh, sure, 'Have another drink, laddie, and you'll find your little lady.' Sadistic bastards. At least he had enough songs, anecdotes and pure Irish bull on tape from several concerts to say the trip had been worth it.
His agent would be happy. The magazine would be happy, too. His series on the origins of various forms of rock had so far been extremely popular. Rolling Stone paid plenty for the material. And he'd finally generated enough interest in himself as a writer to have his publisher accept his wildest proposal yet, an anthology of rock groupies' life stories.
It would work. Of course, he would have to make it work. If only he could have spoken to that girl. But no. Like an idiot, when she tried to talk to him, he'd practically attacked her in the alley. She asked for a kiss first. He shook his head. No, she'd just been kidding. Didn't she take off like a bullet when he plastered himself all over her?
She could have been the cover for his book. Her face had glowed with the adoration of a true music fan in the bar. In the sobering light of the morning, he felt sure he'd mistaken her beauty, but not her fervor. She loved that band. Did she follow them? Was she family? That was the kind of story that would open his book, not the one people would expect about the lives of big rock, hard-core music junkies. On the other hand, what was she doing asking him to kiss her?
God, the taste of her. He could imagine it again, even here in the midst of the chaotic airport, and it added to the pressure mounting in his groin and the fevered vibration in his nerves. He would have done far more than kiss her if he'd had the chance. It must have been the booze. And the music. Music could bring out such passion in people. Such simple joy. It made them hope and believe.
Once he would have known what to do. In her eyes he could see the arousal and the denial. He'd handled women in the past who denied their desires. He'd shown them how good it felt to give in to their secret wishes. It had been too long since he'd explored the fantasies of a shy woman and brought her to the point of surrender. The last time had been at the club, his club Menage, where he'd been owner and master. There he'd believed in Voltaire's statement, "It is not enough to conquer, one must know how to seduce." And while he had taught a young lady he'd barely known to trust him, his wife had been dying.
Get a grip, think about something else. He looked around the airport, glanced blankly at the strangers in line, and thought about home. His mouth turned up at the corners as he ran his thumb over the rock in his left pants pocket. His daughter, Anna, believed in magic. His souvenir, a magic blarney stone, would thrill her. At seven, she was old enough to understand the irony of him, a writer, giving her the gift of blarney.
"Hey, mister, quit stallin'. Move along." A heavy-jowled woman nagged him from behind.
"Sorry." He stepped forward and handed his passport to the ticket agent at the desk. "Richard Heron, for the plane to Dublin and on to New York."
"You've got an over night stop in London, sir. Did you want to change that?" she asked, glancing up from her computer screen.
"No, no. It's just what I need." One more stop before he saw Anna again. One more set of recordings before he would have her back. Thankfully, her grandmother Sandra was still alive to care for her while he was away. And soon he would be done travelling for a long time. Very soon. All he needed was his family.
He didn't need the sort of sexual fantasy his body insisted could happen if he had found that girl again. If he kept thinking it, perhaps he would soon believe it.
\*\*\*
Cool night air slid through the basement grate of the old home and teased Lena awake. It carried the soft scents of the ocean and hints of late-blooming wild roses, and it whispered to her in the voices of the nearby village. She stretched, exalting in the freedom of the king-sized four-poster bed. Surely she had time to relax a bit before Evan made it back to the pack and reported her whereabouts. She would be long gone by then, even assuming he knew where she'd spent the night.
She'd inherited the house from her grandmother only weeks before she'd turned. She'd never told anyone in the pack about it. It had been her shelter when she'd first run away, but she hadn't stayed long. The place was in disrepair, at least on the exterior. The upper floors were empty and the roof sagged. The wild rose bramble consumed more of the grounds each year. It was best to let that happen. Only here in the basement did she maintain the house carefully.
Perhaps it hadn't been wise, coming here after running into a member of the pack. Darien wanted her back. She would never return to their ways or submit to his dominance. She'd learned how to survive on her own without taking innocent lives. She'd learned to use her powers to sup on human emotion as well as blood. If she was lonely, well, that was the price of being free of the pack. Free of Darien.
As a vampire, her desires ran strong and her need for sensuality was immense. Darien had been able to satisfy her, but he'd grown more possessive each time they coupled. Worse, somewhere in those first years together, he'd determined that he would break her and rebuild her into his ideal sexual submissive. How he'd expected her to be the female leader of the pack and yet be humiliated each time he brought her over the edge sexually, she couldn't understand. Still, he'd known how to touch her. Lena's hands caressed her body. Her soft cotton pajamas rustled slightly, the sound loud in her ears.
Her nipples peaked as she remembered the sex, and she pinched the tight buds hard. She really should get going, but.... She uttered a low groan and tossed her head back, giving in to the need for release. Her hands slipped lower, and she took her time, stroking her stomach and thighs before slipping her fingers inside her pajama bottoms to pull them down past her hips. She kicked them and the sheets aside, freeing her from the nest of covers she'd enjoyed only moments before.
Cool night air caressed her damp skin as she spread her legs. Memories of Darien and the pack, of the last wild night before she'd run, flooded her mind. She grew wetter. There had been hands everywhere, stroking her as she orgasmed that night. Fingers in her pussy, she wasn't sure whose, and fingers in her mouth, and hands wrapped in her hair and cupping her ass as she bucked with one orgasm after another.
Darien had allowed the others to join in the fun, but never to mate with her. Only he could thrust inside her pussy and bring her to orgasm as he reached his own. Only he could lay his mouth to her neck as she came, drinking her blood before offering a tiny taste of his own. As pack leader it was his right. She'd tasted each member of the pack on several occasions, but they'd never tasted her blood again after the night she'd been turned. That would have given them a power that Darien wouldn't condone.
Suddenly, her fantasy changed. Darien's image blurred and became a different set of hands on her, heating her with passion. It was surprising, but excitement simmered under her skin as she followed her imagination's lead. Blue eyes and curly brown hair. She slowly unbuttoned her pajama top and threw it aside before she caressed the outer curves of her breasts. She cupped them and rubbed her thumbs over the taut nipples. Her breasts were full and her skin, forever young, was soft. She moaned, the gentle sound as erotic to her as the smooth sheets brushing against her naked body.
A quick roll brought her to the side of the bed and the night table beside it. She wanted something more than her own touch, but this would have to do. She pulled the drawer open and removed her favorite toy, a joyful little buzzer. She slid it against her wet skin and gasped as it rewarded her with an electric tingle. She pulled her knees upward and opened herself, fingering her wet folds as she rocked the buzzer back and forth.
She imagined the blue eyed man from the bar stroking her clit as he readied to mount her. She could almost feel his lips against hers again, his tongue plundering her mouth. Would he take her hard, like Darien? Or would he take his time, driving her to scream out his name while that fabulous mouth devoured her pussy? She was too wound up to stretch out the fantasy. Within moments she cried out as her orgasm clenched her pussy tight again and again.
Lena dropped her legs down and let the buzzer slide away. Regret toppled her release. Loneliness clawed at her. There was no way to return to the pack. They wouldn't listen to her and she couldn't kill again. And Darien. She couldn't bear to be taken by him again. She paid too dearly for any moment of pleasure. That last night, after the pack was sated, Darien had taken her again, using her lust and his physical strength to force her to into the heavy iron chains and collar he kept for her personal use.
Her mind skittered away from the memory.
A mortal man was no better. If he learned what she was, he would expose her. Or kill her. She listened to her own sigh, a soft sound for such a sad moment. She couldn't even be certain if one man could satisfy her any longer.
Time to move. She raised her arms to point toward the ceiling and then bent back, arching, until with a sudden jump she flipped completely over. Two more harsh kicks followed, and then a hand-strike at the air. A kata to get her blood flowing and her mind moving forward instead of back into the past.
Martial arts enhanced her self-control. A second and third kata followed the first. She moved around the bed, using the obstacle as a challenge. In the pack she'd been the dominant female, not only because Darien had placed there as his lover, or because she'd tasted all of their blood, but also because she could hold her own in a fight. Her passion for karate had saved her life countless times.
Her kata complete, she opened a plastic bag and selected brown brushed-cotton pants and a silk Japanese blouse in creamy yellow with slashed sleeves. The contrast in textures teased her fingertips and drew a smile to her lips.
A huge mirror mounted on the wall opposite the bed reflected her smile. The edges of its surface were pitted with age, but its reflection showed smooth skin even though she was approaching fifty. At this point, being a vampire had occupied her for nearly half of her life. She'd been alone for three years. Evan's appearance hadn't been an accident. She shook her head at her reflection. It was past time to leave Ireland.
She looked over her clothes and bags. Lena never left home without her sai, the double steel blades that made her feel safe. It was ironic for a vampire to think that way, but for her the ancient arts made her feel more in control. But she was heading for the airport, so they must remain here. She hesitated, stroking the leather holsters before she turned away from them and headed out into the cool night air.
Her run to the airport lasted only twenty minutes. She donned a pair of yellow heels from her bag before entering the building. She strode purposefully to the ticket line.
"One for London. The nine-fifteen flight, please."
"You're almost too late. Boarding is in ten minutes." The ticket agent frowned. Her shirt had lost its crispness and her tone betrayed a weariness that had passed into irritability. "You'll have to go immediately through security. I'm not sure they'll let you through."
"No problem. I like keeping it close. I hate long lines." Lena focused on the agent, catching her gaze and holding it for a moment. She gave the agent a gentle mental nudge, easing her frustration with a brush of desire.
"Of course." The woman's voice relaxed. "I'm sure there'll be no problem. You're just in time." The agent lifted her hand to touch her face and slid her fingers down her neck, an unconscious caress.
Lena could feel her confused interest. Lena licked her lips and leaned closer. A quick blush rose to the agent's cheeks, and Lena's lips tilted into a wicked smile. Teasing her now was but a guilty pleasure. There was no time for either of them to find satisfaction. Opening her empathic senses, Lena tasted the subtle, sweet power of the agent's yearning, like honeyed cream. Delicious. Sex and desire were always there for Lena as part of her vampire nature. Teasing a confused woman wasn't really playing fair, though. Lena took a moment to concentrate on the agent's emotions.
Lifting the woman's spirits was easy enough. Lena knew all too well how hard it was to be faced with one's darker desires. This poor woman was reaching to find herself sexually. She craved her own sex but couldn't bring herself to confirm her desire. Projecting confidence, desire, humor, and even joy might give the woman courage to find what she really wanted.
The thought brought a smile to Lena's lips. The agent blushed harder, her cheeks rosy as Lena goaded her sexual hunger, licking it with her empathic senses. She sucked the sweet power of the woman's emotion in, and just as quickly slid it back to the woman in an exchange as intimate as oral sex.
She left the woman flustered, but happier, behind her.
The psychic aspect of Lena's powers had grown since she'd begun feeding on emotion as well as blood. She found it worth spending a little energy on people now and then to make life smoother. The power she gained from a single person's emotion wasn't enough to nourish her, but it gave her the ability to influence the human she drew from.
Security ushered her through the checkpoint. The flight passed quickly, a mere hop to London. Once again she regretted her inability to cross the water on her own power. Heathrow airport teemed with travelers, and the sound of the massed people there assaulted her nerves. There was no music to it, just noise, a powerful beating discord. She left quickly. She needed to get to a safe place where she could absorb enough emotional power to feed without killing.
She called for a cab and requested a transfer downtown. The night had deepened. Now would be the busiest time on the bar scene. She'd been to this area over the last few years with the pack, and then without them, so she knew the best hunting spots. London was at the edge of the pack's ranging territory.
The cab pulled up in front of a bar. People lined the street and music blared from the speakers. Not live sound yet. She paid the driver and got out. A bouncer, a huge man wearing tight black pants, shirt and jacket spotted her and nodded. She walked past the line and ignored the occasional protest from those who waited. She handed him another fifty pounds as she neared the doorway, sliding it into his hand with practiced ease.
He leered at her but passed her through.
"Thanks, sweetheart."
"Anytime, sugar." The meaningless words rolled off her tongue, but she tasted the bitter scent of his cologne on the air as strongly as if she'd licked his skin. Repulsive man. Sometimes money worked as well as her psychic powers, and she'd rather not touch men like him, even with her mind.
The wall of bodies inside the bar swayed and writhed with the music. She could feel the anticipation in the air as the time approached for the band to appear. This dancing to the canned tune would be nothing compared to the frenzy that would begin with the first words of the scheduled rappers.
Lena found a table, gave those seated at it a hard glance, and after a moment dropped herself and her bags onto the newly vacated seats facing the stage. The previous owners melted into the throng of dancers. They left behind only a trail of stale smoke and the harsh scent of Turkish hash. The lights dimmed, and she felt the crowd's eagerness and the thrill of the band members in the wings.
She inhaled sharply. Their emotions whet her appetite, and she took a small sip of their fervor, a nibble before the main entree. It trickled down her throat as if it were a palpable thing. In truth, the power she absorbed was without substance. But it tasted as sweet, and as salty, and sometimes as strongly as blood. The band swaggered onto the stage, their arrogance an overwhelming spice in the emotional brew.
"Hey, bitch! Come on and ride that pony," the lead singer belted it out, accompanied by the rhythmical drum section and synthesized keyboard.
It definitely wasn't her kind of music. The song wouldn't thrill her nearly as much as the flavor of the excitement it would inspire in the audience. That, she drank in. The rappers worked the crowd, pulling them into a chant along with the singers. They rotated on the stage like whirling dervishes worshipping their god.
The crowd surged around her but she sat alone in the celebration. Soon enough she had her fill. Unlike the pub in Ireland, this place had no hold on her, nor did the music pull her soul. The words were meaningless, many of them filled with hate and obscenity. She came only for the crowd and its power.
Only as she turned to leave did she feel eyes upon her. Two men stared at her from either end of the bar. One smiled and beckoned to her, his face surprised and interested. He wore the same smile she'd seen in the pub in Ireland only the night before. The same curling dark hair, the same piercing blue eyes. The same soft lips. Fear rocked her, her terror vocalized in a surprised shout that was lost to the crowd. What was he doing in London?
Her eyes flicked to the other man, one she really, really didn't want to recognize. Her fear grew, oh, so much worse. He snarled in anger. Darien. He had yet to move in her direction, but the threat he exuded could not be ignored. He could be her death. Sweat drenched her in a quick flood. The noise in the bar faded, and people near her backed away as her terror brushed against them.
Time to run. The sounds of the bar flooded back into her senses.
She grabbed her satchel and left the table. Her body swayed in tempo with those around her as she passed through the crowd. Some wouldn't step aside for her and she shoved them, hard, and headed for the back.
"Helena."
She heard him call, her ex-lover, her ex-master, his voice harsh with anger and, perhaps, longing. Both emotions had her heart pounding. There, a fire door. Forcing it open, she ignored the shrill burst from the fire alarm and fled the area as quickly as possible.
Not quick enough. As she entered the alley, she caught the sickly scent of cooling blood.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Four
Lena gasped for breath. The scent of blood pulled at her, drawing out her hunger. It had been so long since she'd fed that she nearly collapsed under the onslaught of the powerful odor. If it had been fresh, she might have been driven to her knees. She dashed from the alley, ignoring the silent body on the ground near the club's dumpster. She could do nothing for that soul now. She ran quickly away from the scene at the bar. The emotions from the crowd had barely satisfied her appetite. She needed something more. Something liquid.
"Those bastards!" She spat the words. Hunting on my ground, flaunting their kills in the face of my resolution. She wouldn't give in. She would never return to the pack. Never take another life. Her stomach heaved as hunger morphed into disgust. The pack refused to believe there was another way. They could live without killing and make their feeding all the richer by combining blood with humankind's better emotions, not just death throes. But they would never believe her because Darien would never let them. Never let them change from the way they'd operated for centuries. Never relax his power over them.
She slowed to a walk and stepped into the welcoming shadows of the industrial section. The street lay abandoned at this late hour of the night. Stopping, she pressed her back against the dirty brick wall of a building nearly a dozen blocks from the bar. Fear-tainted sweat dampened the silk of her blouse. God knew she couldn't help her need for blood, but she would never be used by it again.
She'd been a vampire for almost half her life. Dozens of lives had been lost at her hands while she came to accept what she was. For a long time she'd simply let her new nature rule her, driving her into frenzies of lust and blood that did nothing but disgust her now. Darien had loved her that way, encouraging her to steal from her victims their money, their lust, their blood and finally, their lives.
Lust. Blood. Pain. All wound so tightly together it had taken her three years of solitude to recover.
One night in Dublin she'd strode into a tiny bar to hunt but she'd been moved by the music enough to truly listen. In opening herself to the music, she'd inadvertently opened herself to the other listeners as well. She'd been amazed by the strength of emotion she felt from them. More shocking was what that emotion had done to her hunger. It had abated it. She took less blood after that. She needed less. And she'd stopped killing, substituting the sweet elation pulled from the beat of music for the dying beat of a human heart. Darien had never forgiven her for changing.
A shiver passed through her body. Darien. She couldn't predict what he might do. Tonight his anger had been palpable, draining her of some of the power she'd absorbed from the crowd. His fury hit her like an open-handed slap.
He'd always been wildly emotional, both as a lover and a leader. Without her there, who would face his rage? She'd seen him kill so many times. The body in the alley could be the result of a simple need to feed, or he could have left the body there as a warning to her.
She'd escaped three years ago, simply walked away one night until she found herself running until her feet were bloody and rays of sunlight were chasing her into the naked earth. Now it seemed as though Darien was finished waiting for her to return on her own. There had been encounters, as she feared leaving the pack's territory entirely and perhaps entering the province of another vampire pack. But it had always been Evan tracking her movements along the edge of the pack's province. She hadn't seen Darien in person since she'd run.
Would Darien have noticed the blue-eyed man? Before she'd left the pack, Darien obsessed over her every move and over every hint of interest in other men. Now he was following her. Evan hadn't just been checking in on her. He'd been spying on her. This was how they had followed her to London. Her escape hadn't been quite quick enough. The thought hit her, hard. Dear God, could Evan have seen us kiss? If he had, he would have reported it to Darien.
"Oh, shit."
The man from the bar was innocent. He didn't even know her name, let alone her nature or the potential danger from one shared kiss.
Lena bowed her head. The hunger would have to wait. She opened her senses to feel for another hunter. One touched with death. She sensed nothing, but could the din of humans at the bar be blocking her? Would she be able to tell from such a distance if they were still there?
There was no help for it. Lena stood straighter and ignored the shiver that ran down her back. One step, then two. She couldn't quite bring herself to reach her full loping stride as she headed back to the bar, but perhaps that was for the best. Perhaps she could blend in with the crowd while she looked for blue-eyed trouble.
\*\*\*
Richard made his way to the woman's abandoned table as he puzzled her reaction when their eyes met. Amazingly, no one had claimed the seats yet. The show was over but the party continued. In fact, it seemed as if even more people crowded the floor than during the concert.
There. She had sat there and watched the show, seemingly as mesmerized by its harsh music as she'd been by the Irish ballads. Then she'd looked directly at him and within minutes run as if her life depended on it.
She hadn't even finished her drink. Richard reached for the amber bottle, curious to see what kind of beer she favored. Ah, no beer for the lady. It must have been some other bar-hopper's dead soldier, now filled with cigarette butts. Then he spotted the tiny purse tucked into the corner of the chair.
The little leather pouch fit neatly in his hand. It wasn't the sort of thing he was familiar with. Most of the women he knew carried a bag at least five times the size of this one. He slipped it into his jacket pocket and headed for the same door she'd exited. Perhaps she stood on the other side, wondering how to get back in for her purse.
The crowd pressed against him and he saw two bouncers headed for the same exit. Before he could take more than two steps, a hand grabbed at his arm.
"Who are you?" A voice shouted at him over the noise of the crowd.
"What?" Richard jerked back from the man confronting him.
"Who are you?" The stranger demanded again. He glared at Richard and clenched his fist at his side. "How do you know Helena?"
Richard took a minute to answer as the throng roared around them, using the opportunity to examine the man opposite him. There was something vaguely familiar about him. He was tall, nearly twin to Richard's own build, but Norwegian in looks, with long blonde hair and a strong jaw. Was he an old boyfriend of hers, perhaps? And where had they met before?
"Helena." Richard savored the word. He watched as the other man's face darkened and his jaw tightened. Definitely an old boyfriend. Had she run because of him?
"I don't know her at all." But he couldn't help his thoughts of the way her lips felt under his.
"You're lying." The man actually trembled with rage. "Why did she run away from you?"
Richard took a step backward. He could hold his own in a fight, and there were few who could intimidate him physically. But this man.... A shudder rippled down Richard's back. This man was dangerous, his eyes cold. Deadly.
"If we had a moment alone...." The stranger's voice rumbled low in the air.
Goosebumps prickled Richard's skin. "Stay away from Helena or I'll kill you."
The crowd chose that moment to crush the two men together and then shove them apart. Richard pulled his eyes away from the stranger long enough to see that the band was back on stage, the canned music giving way to an encore performance. He looked back and the man was gone. Cold sweat formed on his palms. Helena, whoever she was, was in a lot of trouble.
Another glance at the back door made Richard change his mind about heading that way. Two large bouncers stood in front of the door with their massive arms crossed over broad chests. Perhaps they were irritated enough by one patron slipping out that way. He would leave through the front door and walk around to the back door through the alley. It took him a few minutes to force his way through the crowd and out the main door.
He reached the shadowed back street. Maybe this hadn't been such a smart idea. She wouldn't be waiting in this filth, especially with her ex nearby. He ground his teeth together and continued forward. Just in case, he couldn't leave Helena alone to face her ex, if that was what the tall blond brute was. Deeper in the sour-smelling alley, he stumbled over someone's lost shoe.
"Fuck!"
The shoe hadn't been lost.
There were two shoes. High heels. And their owner was right there. Long legs in soft brown cotton pants stretched out on the ground behind the dumpster. Someone groaned. Him. He bent to check for a pulse, and a thick stench of blood made him gag. There would be no more sounds coming from this girl.
She resembled Helena. Her clothes were nearly the same color and her hair was black, but the similarity ended there. Little light filtered into the dark alley, but from what he could see, she looked terrified. He swallowed hard. Helena had come through here minutes ago. Had someone meant to kill Helena?
He had to call the police. He grimaced. This would cause problems, but it needed to be done. He shook his head over the uselessness of it. The police would hold him and question him until he was half crazy. No, he couldn't be here when they arrived. The scene was too close to his wife's death, or at least someone would think so. A seedy alley wasn't that different than a seedy sex club to some.
Ice slid through his veins. His breath hissed out as he thought of Rhonda, her body lying dead and cold like this in the upper floor of their club. He hadn't even known she planned to meet anyone. He could tell the police nothing about her client as they pestered him with endless questions.
There was nothing he could do for this girl, and staying would only lead to problems for him. He swiftly wiped the girl's throat with the tail of his jacket. No way was he leaving his prints there. Not when all he had done was check to see if she was still alive. Not when he was leaving London for New York tomorrow. Anna needed him.
Luckily his cell phone was a disposable bought with cash for this trip in case he was robbed in the bars. It would be untraceable once he got rid of it. He made the call quickly and left an anonymous tip. This wasn't his country and this wasn't his problem, but he still felt guilty about walking away.
Richard made his way out of the alley and down the street. He flagged a cab about a block later, near another bar, and stayed calm as he casually told the driver to head for the Crowne Plaza. It was better not to be remembered tonight as being upset or disturbed. It was better not to be involved. He had to think of his daughter, not some stranger.
\*\*\*
Lena watched the blue-eyed stranger climb into a taxi. For the moment at least, he should be safe. There was no sign of Darien or the pack, although she sensed her former lover in a mere whiff of familiar scent on the stranger's jacket. That, and a touch of blood.
It was nearly two in the morning now, and she needed to make her way to a safe haven before the sun rose. But the scent of blood bothered her. It smelled the same as the blood in the alley behind the bar. Had he anything to do with the killing? Lena assumed the pack had killed that girl, but perhaps this stranger was involved.
It was a risk, but Lena followed the taxi, slipping into the shadows and dashing after the vehicle in quick bursts. Time could run out on her. She could be seen. To hide her movement she relied on the darkness and the automatic rejection of all mortals of anything supernatural. No one would believe a woman would be able to run like that, so no one would see her.
They soon reached the Crowne Plaza, not far from where Lena planned on staying now that fleeing the UK seemed like a good idea. The man paid the driver and stood for a moment in front of the hotel. He swept his fingers through his curling locks. He looked tired. He had more than a five o'clock shadow on his jaw, and his tan looked a bit pale under the light from the hotel doors, but God, he was handsome.
Lena felt the hunger rise. She could hear his heartbeat from her place in the shadows beside the hotel. The rhythm called to her. She locked onto the sound and onto his psyche. His emotions ran high but he had none of the feelings she would expect from a murderer. Instead, there was anxiety and the tang of dissatisfaction, but she couldn't make out his reasons.
After he entered the hotel, she slipped inside behind him. He pressed the elevator button. Fourth floor. She slipped into the stairwell and climbed the stairs, arriving in time to observe through the stairwell window as he walked to his door. With each step his hips rocked ever so slightly. Her blood heated and her mouth watered.
Room 429. He keyed his entry code into the door lock. She slipped to his door even as it began to swing shut behind him. He never noticed the way it didn't quite click shut. He didn't hear her enter as he walked to the window and pulled the blinds. He didn't feel her behind him before he turned.
For a moment, neither of them said a word.
"Helena," he breathed.
"Lena," she corrected him.
Richard's heart beat a staccato rhythm, pounding quicker as he heard her whisper her name.
"How the hell did you get into my room?"
She held still. Her gaze smoldered as it poured over his body, burning him. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, suddenly self-conscious, a novel experience and a surprisingly sexy one.
His eyes riveted on her mouth. Her sweet, full lips were the color of dark cherries. Her tongue slid out to wet them. His body responded immediately, his cock thickening with desire and begging to be released from the tight confines of his clothes.
As if she felt his heat, her gaze flickered downward at his pants. Good God, I'm making a total fool of myself.
He turned slightly away from her. "What do you want?"
She took a step closer.
"Are you in trouble? You ran away in Ireland, and again tonight."
He could smell her perfume, a soft whiff of vanilla and musk and something he couldn't define, something delicious. He could almost feel the warmth from the tiny flecks of gold in those hazel eyes. He swallowed hard and found that he had taken a step toward her. Hadn't he just told himself it was better not to get involved? That Anna came first? He needed stability, not a crazy fling with someone who might be involved in something dangerous. Still, it had been a long time since he'd been alone with a woman.
"You have blood on your jacket." Her voice was a low purr. It took him a moment to understand what she said.
"What?"
"Blood." She reached out and fingered the edge of his jacket. "Here."
He looked down and saw a dark stain on the edge of his jacket, where he had used the material to wipe off any possible fingerprints from the dead girl's throat.
"I...." He trailed off as she looked into his eyes again. Her face was close enough to simply lean down and kiss.
"Did you kill her?"
"No!" He attempted to back away but she was faster and stronger than she appeared. She grabbed his wrist and he froze as the heat between them flared higher. "I didn't kill her. She was dead in the alley when I got there. Did you kill her?" He threw it back at her.
"No."
She let go of his wrist and pressed her body against his. She cupped her hand on the back of his neck. A shock of desire ran down his spine from her palm to his tailbone and added urgency to his straining cock.
God help me. He hadn't lost one bit of his erection during the exchange. How could he be so hard while they discussed a murder? Where was his legendary control that kept him steady as clients climaxed under his direction? The thought was lost as he gave in to the urge to kiss her.
He lowered his mouth to meet hers.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Five
The hunger forced Lena down a path she wasn't sure she wanted to follow. She hadn't fed in days and she could hear his heart beating and the blood rushing through his veins. She could sense his confusion but also his lust. She could even smell the musk rising from his clothes.
Leaning against him, her body knew what it wanted, regardless of what her mind thought was wise. She feared if she fed now in this state of hunger, she might lose control.
His lips pressed against hers. Without thinking, she opened her mouth to his questing tongue. Greedily he devoured her even as she opened her senses more fully to his emotions. Lust radiated from him, and a desire so strong that she felt her pussy immediately grow slick. Her soft moan was lost in his deeper one as they clung together.
He stroked the soft skin of her neck, and any thought of stopping this was lost. His clever fingers sent tingles of anticipation through her body. Her cheeks flushed, her blood racing across her skin and then deep into her body to plump the sensitive folds of her pussy.
It had been over two decades since she'd been with a mortal man. Since she'd left the pack, she hadn't had sex for fear she might lose her control over her bloodlust. Now her psychic powers held her bloodlust steady. She would have to be gentle with him. But God, she wanted him. She needed this, his arms around her, his hands in her hair and stroking the curve of her neck. Needed his body pressed against hers, his hot breath feathering her skin as he groaned out loud.
She gripped the back of his shirt as he grazed searing lips across her cheek and down her neck. His mouth burned her as it moved to cover the pulse point of her throat, pausing at the very place where the most intimate vampire lover would have pierced her skin.
He murmured to her, soft words filled with desire. Her sensitive hearing caught them all, amplified the yearning she sensed in his soul. He wanted this passion as much as she did.
His hands roamed lower, stroking her neck and shoulders, cupping her breasts until the silk of her blouse pulled taut over her peaked nipples. She responded by covering his face with soft kisses. It was no longer enough to hold the muscular core of his body through the covering of his clothes. She tugged at the cotton of his shirt, barely restraining herself from ripping it from his shoulders.
He gripped her elbow and stepped toward the bed, pulling her with him. She pretended to stumble, dragging him backward with her to land across the edge of the mattress. She wanted him there now.
With a grunt he landed on top of her, the weight of his body pressing her down into the covers. The movement silhouetted the hardness of his cock against her groin. For a moment, she was uncertain if she should be impressed or frustrated. Why exactly are there so many clothes between us?
"Are you okay?" He levered himself up with one arm, pressing his erection even harder against her.
"God, yes." She laughed.
"Are you sure we should do this?"
She ran her hands along his chest.
"I mean we barely know each other," he gasped as she pinched his left nipple hard, tweaking the peak between her fingers. Her mouth curved into an amused smile before she let her lips trail where her fingers had quested. His frustration teased her hunger.
He clenched his teeth and ground out, "My name's Richard."
She slid a hand down to cup his ass. Being aggressive seemed to keep him off-center and her in control.
He cleared his throat and tried again, despite grinding his hips against hers.
"We should use some protection."
She stopped teasing him. How could he think anything coherent at all with her pheromones tying his libido in knots? And yet, he thought of protecting her. Not that she could ever have a child, and her nature prevented any transmission of disease. But he was kind. He stared into her eyes. Could he see what she was?
\*\*\*
Shit. He'd blown it. The hottest, most responsive woman he'd ever held was pinned beneath him in a hotel room, and he was about to lose her interest. Her eyes brimmed with doubt. Had he lost every skill he'd perfected in the club? He couldn't bring himself to control her reactions. He could barely command his own lust enough to stop himself from ripping her clothes off and fucking her for all he was worth.
Then she smiled and writhed beneath him, wrapping her legs around him in a way that left no question of her desire.
"Well, Richard, we can use a rubber if you want. But take these off now." Her voice rasped huskily as she pulled at his clothing. "I want to see you, every part of you. I want to touch you and taste you."
He swallowed hard. Her voice was like hot chocolate, sweet and rich and potent. He stood even though releasing her was nearly painful. He'd never wanted anyone this way, so wildly, so recklessly. No client had roused him like this, and not even Rhonda had ever made him lose control. He liked it.
He snarled in frustration as he tried to remove his belt and free his straining erection. Tearing at the blasted buckle only seemed to tighten it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again to look at her.
"No." He spoke quietly. She'd begun to sit up. I am not blowing this. "Lay back." His voice was harsh as he fought to control himself. He was going to have her. So he would take his time and do it right.
Kneeling on the floor beside the bed, he ran his hands up her body, stroking the outside of her thighs through the soft cotton of her pants. He slid his palms under her hips to cup her sweetly rounded ass and was delighted with her throaty growl. She bucked under his caress. She wanted him.
He leaned in between her legs and mouthed the crotch of her slacks. Her scent was nearly his undoing. Was it cinnamon, that delicious aroma that blended with her vanilla musk? He pressed his mouth harder against her pussy, biting her softly through the material. She writhed and grabbed at the sensitive hair on the nape of his neck, pulling him harder against her.
Her soft moans were wordless appeals for him to go faster, to quit teasing and bring them both to sweet release. Instead, he took his time. This was the softer side of domination. Like feather play, it placed him firmly in control of her pleasure, if not her actions.
He climbed up onto the bed. He paced himself, first unbuttoning the tiny buttons on the front of her silk blouse and then raising himself to kneel above her. Even under the cheap hotel lights, her flawless skin gleamed like priceless ivory. His eyes met hers to take in their every detail, the color, the shape, and the soft curve of her cheek over the strong classic bones of her face.
He couldn't touch her, not too quickly, or he wouldn't last. She was impossibly perfect with her riot of ebony hair spilling across the rose bedspread. He bent to kiss her temple and slid from there to her earlobe, sucking it into his mouth. She gasped and clutched the back of his shirt. He was shocked by the rough rasp of the material parting at the seams under the balls of her fists.
Her urgency spurred his actions, her questing fingers and lips an onslaught against his restraint. He slid kisses down between her breasts and stroked her neck, arms and sides before he unbuttoned her slacks.
"Now, Richard," she demanded, and clutched at his hips. "I need you."
His body throbbed in reaction to her flushed face and wild eyes. She licked her lips repeatedly. Never losing eye contact, he slid one hand inside her thin panties and pressed his fingers into the warm, wet folds of her pussy. She cried out, throwing her head back as he stroked the nub of her clit.
"More." Her creamy voice roughened with her demand. When he slid his middle finger into the hot well of her pussy, she ground her hips against him.
\*\*\*
The orgasm slid through Lena in short hot waves. The sound in the room faded out as she centered in on the exquisite pleasure. Slowly, the soft, quick rhythm of Richard's heartbeat pulled her back into the moment. She needed him.
Hooking her leg around his hip, she grabbed his shoulders and rolled them both over into the middle of the bed. Now she was on top. He gasped as they rolled, and groaned out her name as she pressed him into the mattress.
"Don't move," she ground the words out. At this point, clenching her teeth together seemed like the only way to hide her fangs. It was only a matter of time until she bit him, but if she could wait, the whole thing would blend into sex for him, as it had for countless others. He would never know she took anything from him other than a fantastic orgasm.
She shed what was left of her clothes. The glazed look in his eyes was gratifying, as was his increased heart rate. Naked, she knelt on the edge of the bed and grabbed what remained of his shirt, ripping it from his body. His look of anticipation and pleasure turned to shock, then delight, as she wound her fingers around his stubborn belt.
He reached for her, but she slapped his hands aside and yanked the belt buckle open. A quick tug had his zipper down, and his straining cock thrust up through the opening in his boxers. She yanked his pants and boxers down as far as his hips, struggling against the obstacle of his erection. He laughed, the sound strangled as she lowered her head quickly to lay her lips against naked skin.
"Lena, don't," he groaned. "I want this to last."
His body made lies of his words. His hips bucked and his hands wrapped her hair into his fists. The smooth skin of his cock was like heated satin against her tongue. The strong musky aroma she'd scented earlier was evident in the earthy taste of his skin.
She was taking a risk, running her lips and tongue over him like this. But his pleasure and excitement fed her empathic energy and lent her temporary control with their melody. She sucked his thick cock into her mouth, delighted by the way it stretched her jaws open.
Relaxing her throat to take in more of him, she almost choked as he grabbed her hips and swung her over him. She lost her pace when his mouth pressed to her pussy lips, and lost everything when his tongue pushed against her clit.
It was simply too much.
She stroked his cock hard with one hand, dropped her fangs from their sheaths, and lowered her mouth to his thigh. This wasn't quite what she wanted, but she couldn't wait a moment longer. Her fangs sank into his flesh and she drank.
\*\*\*
Pain. Short, quick, and definitely unexpected. Just a quick sting, really. It shook him for a moment, enough to pull his tongue from Lena's pussy. Then it began. A pulling like the soft stroke of a woman's hand along the shaft of his cock. Only it wasn't his cock. With every pull he tightened. In a moment he cried out with it. He gripped her hips and pressed his face into her hot pussy, breathing in her wild scent. He couldn't move his legs. Everything from his waist down throbbed.
He could feel the pressure in his balls and cock building. The intensity mounted with every pulse of sensation flooding his body. What the hell is she doing to me?
"Lena, Lena." His protests were drowned by the release of his orgasm. Hot cum spurt from his shaft like liquid fire. Still that pulling went on, and he tried to buck her off so he might understand what was happening.
His dick, never softening for a moment, throbbed on. His balls tightened again, something that had never happened to him so quickly in all his life. As she palmed his cock, another orgasm built, rose and swept over him, sending him thrashing upward against her. Black dots swam before his eyes as the pulling continued. Every hair on his body stood as erect as his thick organ.
Her naked body squirmed against him. Her taut nipples rubbed his belly and she pressed her pussy hard against his mouth. He gave in, thrusting his tongue inside her, and forgot everything as he sucked the tiny knob of her clit between his teeth. Everything was lost in the sensations that swamped his body. He felt it all, her skin wet with their shared sweat, the hot sticky cum dripping down his cock, the pulses of her quivering pussy as she came against his tongue, her mouth fastened to his thigh, and the fierce, sensual pull of her sucking.
\*\*\*
With Richard's final release he dropped into unconsciousness. Lena raised her head from his thigh and wiped the blood from her lips. She felt glorious. She wiggled her hips and arched her back, still tingling from her own orgasm. She twisted to lie beside the man who had given her so much satisfaction.
He'd been delicious. In every way, from the taste of his blood to the way he hadn't stopped pleasuring her even as he came. He'd been sweet, too, thinking of her safety. He'd been confused but so trusting. And he had put her first, as much as his body would let him.
She hadn't taken too much blood. He would be fine. She would never cross that line again, taking more than a lover could naturally give. His curly brown hair lay tousled over his brow, those beautiful blue eyes closed for the moment. He looked innocent. He couldn't have killed the young girl outside the bar.
When she opened her senses during a deep feeding like this one, she could feel more than his surface emotions. She could touch his soul. This was a giving man, a strong one. A man who loved and protected his own. He slept soundly under her scrutiny, even when she ran a finger along the edge of his jaw and the rough stubble there. More than five o'clock stubble by far.
She frowned as she scanned the room for a clock. A cold line of fear raced through her belly, disrupting the fullness of her satisfaction. She grabbed his wrist and checked his watch.
"Shit!"
Quarter to six. True sunrise would be in twenty minutes. She ran to the window and slid the curtains across the glass, cutting out the faint hints of the rising sun.
"Shit, shit, shit!" Her heart raced. There was nowhere to go. She would never make it to her hide-away, not before true dawn. Sunlight was one enemy that could not be outrun, but only hidden from. Her extreme allergic reaction to it would put her down, and perhaps even kill her if she were exposed directly to its rays.
She turned back to the beautiful sleeping man. He would awaken groggy from the drugs in her saliva, with a dazed memory of their experience. Eventually he might come to doubt the details. But when would he wake?
Lena grabbed the pillows and bedspread from the second bed near the window and rushed to the bathroom. Throwing the bedding into the tub, she grimaced at the thought of the sore back she'd likely have by nightfall. It can't be helped.
She returned to Richard. This couldn't be helped either. She pulled off his shoes and dragged his pants and boxers the rest of the way off his body. That brought a smile to her lips. They'd never even completely undressed him. Then she covered him with the bedspread.
She dropped to her knees and laid her lips upon his wrist. Without hesitation, she bit past his sweet flesh and into a vein. She drank deeply and quickly, hating herself for taking more from him than he might wish, even if he were in any position to object. If she drank enough, he would sleep all day and half the night, and she would be long gone when he awoke.
If she drank too much, he might never wake at all.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Six
The wicked, unbelievable pain of a jackhammer inside his brain wrenched Richard awake. He grabbed the telephone to put an end to the noise. Why was everything so loud? The clock radio blared, refusing to shut off even when he slammed his palm against the buttons. He glared at it and at the offending telephone.
"Good morning, sir. I hope you had a pleasant night."
"What? Who the hell is this?" Richard gasped as the pain in his head doubled with every word.
"It's the front desk, sir. We've noted here that you had intended to check out today. We must ask that you confirm any extended stay."
"Extended stay?" He glanced at his watch. Shit! He'd missed his flight. "I'll call you back. I'll have to check with the airline."
"Very well, sir. Luckily, we are not overbooked at this time."
Richard replaced the handset and flopped back on the bed, groaning aloud as his body complained. The sheets and bedspread coiled around his legs. Bright sunlight crept around the edges of the heavy curtains covering the hotel window.
He'd missed his plane. His watch read a quarter past one o'clock in the afternoon. His head ached, and his whole body felt drained. What the hell had happened to him?
He unwound himself from the tangled bedding and found he was dressed in only his socks. Usually he slept in his boxers. He scanned the room and it all came back, the warm, wet memories of the hottest sex he'd had in his life. Vanilla sex, yet it blew away the kinkiest encounters in all three years he'd owned Menage. His balls throbbed at the thought of her naked body. God, she was beautiful.
Where was she? He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Every movement was an effort. He staggered from the bed to grasp the back of the desk chair. The room whirled before his eyes. The floor swayed beneath his feet. He closed his eyes, but not before he registered one thing. Her clothes were still lying on the floor.
"Lena?" he called. There was no answer.
He slowly drew back the curtains. The light was painful but he needed some clarity in his thoughts and in his vision. He swung around to face his room and his memories.
Last night had been incredible. But what exactly had happened? Other than unimaginably great sex. He'd cum, God, was it three times? His balls tightened and assured him that yes, Lena had pushed him over the edge until he couldn't remember anything else. Her white lace underwear lay on the floor, and he stooped to grab them, ignoring the pain in his temples. He pressed the panties to his face. Her scent clung to them, that hint of cinnamon that made his blood boil with lust. Last night he hadn't even made it inside her, other than with his fingers and tongue. He grinned. He damn well would next time.
She was everything he'd been missing in his life since his wife's murder, everything and more. She was mysterious, exciting, and wild. She'd taken control of the sex as though she were the dom, not he. In truth he'd less submitted to her desire than been washed over by it, like a crashing wave. There would be a next time, and when there was, he'd show her how to surrender to him.
To hell with the plane.
He had time to spend with Lena to explore her secrets. Learn what it took for her to relinquish control and submit to his desires. It wasn't as if this interlude would last forever. Anna was safe. She was his center, but shouldn't be his entire life. She was safe at home with her grandmother.
Crap. He'd been lying to himself for so long. He wanted this. He needed the pleasure and passion that a lover brought. He needed to feel this release, and the freedom to exercise his lust. He'd always been a sensual man. His wife had been a wonderful and willing partner, and the opening of his club had let him explore every fantasy, his own and those of his clients. But with Rhonda's sudden death, he had given up all of that.
He walked to the mirror hanging over the dressing table. Those few steps made him dizzy again. He clutched the panties in his fist. Great sex was one thing, but this weakness, that was another. He looked pale in the mirror, and tired. A soft green bruise bloomed on his inner thigh, and on his wrist a darker mark had formed. He looked at his arm and shuddered. There were two tiny scabs in the middle of the bruise.
"Lena?" he called again.
She had to be in the bathroom. Was she embarrassed by their impulsive night? Or feeling like him, sick as a dog?
He pounded against the bathroom door. "Lena, are you okay?"
The door was locked.
Despite his screaming skull, he knocked louder.
"Lena! Are you all right? Let me in."
What if she isn't okay? He dropped her underwear and threw his weight against the door.
\*\*\*
Lena knew it was a dream. Vampires did have them, if few and far between. They just couldn't wake from them during their sun-induced slumber. She knew it was a dream because it was too perfect, and because she wore her favorite white dress from twenty-five years ago, before she'd even met Darien. She was with Richard and they danced in the moonlight to a Gaelic melody. The lilting accordion and soft drumbeat swept them along, and he looked into her eyes and called her name softly. "Lena."
Clear rays from a full moon swirled around them. It made the immediate surroundings so crisp, and the distance so blurred, that she felt as though she danced in a painting, a Degas with its swirling motion. With no sign of the musicians, they danced alone. Their embrace was gentle. He bent to kiss her lips. She parted them with a sigh, anticipating the slow slide into sensuality sure to follow.
He raised his mouth from hers and whispered her name again, more urgently. "Lena!"
The dream changed. The dance became faster even as the melody faded. Only the drumbeat remained a staccato pounding as they twirled faster and faster. With a last crashing boom the hammering ended. Lena stared at the creature in her arms. It was no longer Richard but a demon, its clawed hands grasping at her. It would kill her!
She drew back, ripping the shoulder of her gown from its clutch. She barred her fangs and hissed a feral warning. The demon threw agonizing beams of light at her. Her eyes streamed as the light pierced them, and she threw up her arm to protect herself.
Then it was gone. All was quiet. She lapsed back into complete unconsciousness. The dark had returned so her slumber deepened. A part of her sighed for the lost dream.
\*\*\*
"Holy shit!" Richard panted as he slammed the door between him and the creature in the bathroom.
"Jesus Christ!" He scrambled backward and stared at the door, expecting at any moment to be faced with the spitting cat-creature he'd awoken in the tub. It couldn't be Lena. It couldn't. What the fuck was that?
The lights had been off. He'd seen a figure wrapped in blankets lying in the tub. Odd, but perhaps she was shy about sleeping in front of a man who, although they had shared the most intimate of moments, barely knew her.
He'd called her name and flicked on the lights. He'd reached in to shake her shoulder. And then----
Richard shuddered and wiped at the sweat beading on his forehead. The bathroom door remained closed. Everything was quiet. Still, he couldn't move.
As the bathroom light had flickered on, she changed. It had been Lena, he was sure now. But with the light her face grew furious, and she snarled and hissed at him. And her mouth, her mouth stretched wide to bare those gleaming white fangs, so long--
What killed his wife couldn't be human.
He gasped as he tore his eyes off the door and checked his wrist. The bruise seemed lighter but the marks were still there. Jesus, she bit me!
Rhonda laying pale and lifeless on the marble floor of Menage's dungeon room, her soft sable hair spread out around her, her throat torn apart...
He backed away slowly from the bathroom door and into the main bedroom. His back hit the edge of the dresser, and he swung around fast. In his dizzy state he grabbed at the edge of the dark wood to stop his spin and tripped over the shoes left discarded on the floor. Her shoes.
Yellow high heels. How could a sexy woman who wore white lace underwear and yellow high heels be a monster? He looked up into the large wall mirror and groaned at the sight of the pale bruise on the inside of his thigh.
"Oh my God," he whispered. Memories of last night's incredible oral sex slammed through his mind. His cock certainly wasn't hard now. His balls were trying to crawl back inside his body as the thought of those fangs and that intense pulling sensation that had brought him to orgasm so quickly the night before.
"What the fuck? What the fuck? She's a goddamn vampire!"
He raced to find his clothes and dress in front of the unsheltered window. He threw his ruined shirt away, panting in he bright light. Who cared if anyone saw him? Vampires were afraid of sunlight, right? He yanked a new shirt from his suitcase. That strange old guy, the detective that had muttered under his breath all the time they investigated his club, he said it again and again. Not human. Was this what had killed Rhonda? A fucking vampire.
Richard glanced around the room. He'd barely had time to unpack. There was nothing to leave behind. Anything in the bathroom could goddamn well stay there. Her clothes lay as they had last night, strewn on the floor near the bed. Her satchel lay there as well. On the table beside the window sat her tiny purse, the one he'd picked up at the bar the night before. He'd barely had time to drop it there before its owner walked in the door behind him.
He paused. Whether being clothed was loaning him courage, or whether common sense was beginning to kick in, he stared at the little suede bag. Who was she? What was her real name? He dropped his suitcase and picked up her purse. Opening it didn't give him many clues, though. It contained only cash and a lipstick, the same dark cherry color that had made his mouth water in the bar in Ireland.
Rhonda had been with a man the night of her death. That much the police were sure of. He hadn't even known she was meeting anyone or that she'd become involved in the more extreme levels of bondage and pain. A man had killed her. It couldn't have been Lena.
But it could have been something just like her.
He traded the purse for her satchel. Surely he had time. Vampires didn't get up until the sun set, right? The larger bag gave him what he wanted. A passport. Her name was Helena Townsend, an ordinary enough name. It could be English or American, even though her national origin was listed as the United States.
Should he call the police?
She could have killed that girl last night at the bar and lied about it. There had been a lot of blood.
"No." He said it aloud. "She can't be the killer." He wondered if he believed it. "She could have killed me while I slept, but she didn't." No. Instead, she'd taken off his pants and tucked him in for the night.
His heartbeat had slowed. He wouldn't call the police. No one would believe him. Besides, something about the forthright way she'd asked him if he had been involved in the murder, and the simple way she'd said no when he asked her the same, told him she was innocent. Of that, at least. And there hadn't really been enough time for her to have killed the girl before he'd stumbled over the body.
Helena, or rather Lena, didn't strike him as a killer. He was good at reading people, and she just didn't read like that. God knows how many men she may have taken as she'd taken him last night. But the ecstasy.... Tingles fluttered down his spine.
"Stop it." His voice sounded rough to his ears.
He wanted her. Still. Again. Wanted what they had shared last night. Now.
He yanked his hand roughly through his hair. He couldn't bring this kind of mess back with him to New York, to Anna and his mother. How could he know what Lena was really like? He could hardly believe he was debating what to do about a bloodsucking vampire asleep in his bathtub.
She could hurt his family. Something like her could have killed Rhonda.
That was it. There was no choice. Besides, if she really was a vampire, the world had changed. If there was one vampire, there would be more. He needed to protect Anna. He walked to the phone and dialed the main desk.
"This is Richard Heron in room 429. Please book the room for another night. And I don't want the room disturbed for turndown service while I'm out this afternoon."
"Very well, sir." The young female clerk's voice sounded far too cheerily in his ear. "I hope this means you've enjoyed your stay."
He paused, and then stammered, "Y--yes, I enjoyed it."
Dark Harmony: Chapter Seven
At four minutes past six, the horizon swallowed the sun. The sky glowed a rose-petal pink as Lena's eyes opened to the approaching night. Lying in the tub, she couldn't see the evolution from day to night, but she could sense the change. She lay silently for a moment and absorbed the quiet. It was too quiet. She extended her senses. No heartbeat sounded from the next room. Had she killed him?
Her chest tightened. She'd sworn never to take another life. But to have killed simply because she'd lost track of time while they made love, that would be too much. What would her life be worth if she lived because another had died?
There was nothing to do but check the results of her actions. She rose from the tub, stretching slowly to work the kinks from her back. Her vampire resilience made it better than it would have been if she'd tried such a bed as a human. The room remained black, but lack of light was never a problem. It was a bit odd though that she'd left the shower curtain open, a detail she wouldn't normally ignore. Every layer between her and possible sunlight exposure was important.
She shrugged off the light bedspread. Her nakedness didn't bother her as it would once have. Modesty was not a trait that could survive vampire pack life. In truth, she preferred being nude now and feeling her skin slide against itself.
The door was the last barrier. She opened it quickly. No more delays. She must face what was. She had probably killed a man.
The bedroom was lit only by the faded light of the sunset. Richard no longer lay in the rumpled bed. He was gone.
The windows' curtains gaped open and the room stood in disarray. Her clothes were scattered across the floor, and the bed sheets remained jumbled from their sexual tangle. Nothing of Richard's remained, other than his scent. That, and the lingering hint of blood and sex, sent a finger of loneliness down Lena's spine. She leaned against the desk and faced the bed. She was alone again and feeling empty. God, how she hated her solitude.
He was alive. She hadn't killed him, but he was gone, a puzzle that could be dangerous for them both. The bathroom door had been forced open and then shut again. The shower curtain had been open. He'd seen her asleep in the tub.
Her mind drifted back to the dream she's had the night before. She'd confronted the monster in her dream, but had it really been Richard opening her sanctuary to daylight? Had she nearly attacked him in her sleep? That might explain his hasty exit, but not his failure to call in the police. Even if he skipped over the fact that she wasn't human, he could have tipped them that she might be involved in the murder. Would he regret leaving her helpless in the hotel and report her later?
He must know what she was. But he hadn't tried to kill her or report her or whatever a man discovering a vampire might do in this day and age. Call the nearest mad scientist? She nearly giggled, a clear indication of the level of her stress.
Likely the murdered girl had been killed by Darien or one of the pack, and Richard had stumbled across it just as she had. He might even have seen Darien, although she doubted he would have lived through that. Darien would never let a human watch him feed unless that human was to be the next to die.
In any case, now Richard would be in real danger. Not only was he aware of the girl's death, but with Lena's scent on him he would never be safe from Darien. She'd marked him as a possible mate should he be transformed into a vampire. Not that she would do that to him, force him to become what she was. It would require that he drink blood from her, and more than a little of it. For now he simply had the scent of potential.
He would be confused, short on blood and likely frightened. He would head for home. The question was, what would happen then? Would he still be in danger? Would Darien follow him and kill him for his involvement with her? Yes, and worse, he would likely make it as entertaining as he could for the pack, which would mean involving Richard's family or closest friends.
On the flip side, if Richard survived, he might become as much a danger to her as her former pack. He would hate her. Worse, he would understand her nature. She turned and slammed her open palms against the wooden desk.
She would have to follow him. But where had he gone? Where was his home? She glanced again around the room. Her own purse and satchel were still here, although Richard had obviously handled them. He would have seen her passport, but she didn't even know his last name.
She flipped up the discarded sheets and covers and looked under the box-spring. Nothing. A quick search of the trash yielded no results. The dresser drawers were empty, but he'd only been here overnight. No need to unpack. His scent drew her to the corner. She discovered his ruined shirt behind the chair. He must have thrown it there. She grimaced, imagining him thrusting away the proof of their passion, tossing it like garbage into the corner.
At last, in the bathroom trash basket, she found a small folded paper.
"Yes." It was his flight confirmation paper. Richard Heron of New York. He was headed back to New York today. In fact, he might already be home. But now she had his address, his name. Now she could find him--and what? Protect him? If Darien was after him, it was her fault.
There were just two problems with that. One, she had no desire to run into Darien again. He would undoubtedly do everything in his power to drag her back into the pack life and that could mean anything from humiliation to pain for her. Two, she had to admit she wanted Richard. She'd had a taste, so to speak, of what he had to offer, and damn if she didn't want more. But more could be bad for her health.
And for his.
\*\*\*
"No, I'm sorry. I don't have the electronic confirmation for the flight I missed. I must have left it at the hotel." Richard knew his voice must be betraying the frustration he felt over the delay while they sorted out his ticket. It was getting dark outside. The giant glass windows on the airport wall showed the softly glowing moon as it rose slowly against the twilight sky. He imagined Lena, the vampire, was awake and might not be too pleased at his departure.
"Look, I already sorted this through with the booking agent. I missed my flight this afternoon and need to make the next one to New York. I understand that there are several seats left, and the agent said she would e-book it." Richard pulled at his jacket sleeve to check his watch again.
"Ah, here we are, sir. Your name had been misspelled." The flight attendant handed him his boarding pass and he hurried to take it as he passed the desk.
Richard was already hurrying down the corridor to the plane. He reviewed his agenda again. This flight, the drive home, and then he would be with his family again. Last night hadn't happened. He hadn't seen a dead body. He hadn't seen a vampire. He hadn't slept with a strange woman. Oh, yes, he had. He wasn't going to give up that memory of her naked thighs. There was no way he would ever forget that image or the taste of her hot pussy. His steps slowed as he recalled the silken feel of her flesh against his lips.
He shook his head and shuddered. Right. Vampire, not sex kitten. He picked up the pace again, practically racing down the corridor. He needed distance and time to think this out. He'd done the only thing possible, leave.
The steward directed him to the very back of the plane. It seemed as though every seat was filled with staring faces. Finally he reached his seat and collapsed into it. Despite the rest of the plane appearing full, his row and the one directly in front of him were empty.
Within minutes the plane was taxiing down the runway and preparing for take-off. Richard tuned out the stewardess's and pilot's voices as they ran through the usual flight protocols and settled more comfortably into his chair. He rubbed his sweaty palms over the cheap and durable material of the armrests. He had to stop thinking about her. Lena. Put her aside. Think about your family. He'd call Anna when the on-board phones were available. His daughter was his only hope of banishing thoughts of what could never be.
Richard closed his eyes as the plane rushed forward to embrace the speed necessary for lift. He considered briefly the articles he would write about the last two concerts, but his brain refused to cooperate, hastening back to visions of Lena's pale skin and black hair. Those lush lips and the scent of cinnamon and vanilla musk. He swore he could smell it now, here on this plane full of strangers.
He gave in to the memory. Just this one time. He'd never experienced such a sexual pull from anyone, not even on his wedding night. Rhonda had been beautiful, perhaps even more so than Lena, but she hadn't been as sensual. Lena made every movement erotic. He remembered the way she writhed with his mouth on her and the intensity of tasting her. How would she look with her full breasts wrapped lovingly tight with leather straps? He let the fantasy drag him deeper.
"Richard." He imagined her soft voice whisper his name, and the throbbing between his legs increased. If she were here he'd be hard pressed not to simply pull her on top of him, to have her ride him under the cover of a blanket, right here in the back of the plane, or maybe in the tiny bathroom....
"Richard." Her voice was more insistent. She wants it, too, needs me like I need her. She was as wild for his cock as he was for that hot pussy. The fantasy was so real that he had to shift in his chair, the seam of his pants pressing too tightly against his arousal.
"If you don't stop that, the stewardess is going to get an eyeful when she offers you the complimentary peanuts."
Richard froze in his seat. Fear quickly cooled the heat in his crotch. He opened his eyes, already knowing he wasn't alone. Lena's beautiful eyes stared into his. Her thigh brushed his and her fingers trailed along his arm as she leaned closer.
"Your flight receipt was in the hotel room. And I'm fast. Very, very fast."
Richard swallowed hard. She trailed her fingers along his thigh, entirely too close to the dying embers of his lust. Apparently the flames weren't dead after all. Fear and lust competed.
"Why are you following me?"
Her tone matched his, quiet, urgent. "You're in danger."
"No crap, lady, you're a vampire."
She clutched the material of his pants. "Not from me! From my pack. From Darien. Did you see him near that body? I know you were near him, I could smell him on you the other night." Her whispered voice grew harsh. "He might have seen you with me. If he did--"
"What? He'll kill me? Suck the life from me? Rip out my throat and leave me to die?" His voice rose as Richard pushed her hands away and drew back as much as possible in the forced closeness of the airplane seats.
"Shh, calm down."
Richard glanced at older man across the aisle who was nodding as he watched the closest tv screen, his ears covered with the complimentary headphones. Two rows ahead, a small face peered over the back of the chair.
"Come on." He unclipped his seatbelt and grabbed her wrist, hauling her up with him. He clenched his teeth against her exotic scent.
"What?" She gasped as he pulled her to the back of the plane.
Taking charge felt good. The steward was in the front section and the stewardess was headed that way as well, her back turned toward them. In a moment, Richard opened the bathroom door and pushed Lena in front of him through the narrow entry.
She pulled her arm from his grasp. "If you think I'm about to join the mile-high club, you are wrong, mister," she whispered harshly.
"No? And here I thought you weren't a tease." He sneered at her in the mirror. "I brought you in here for a conversation, not a quick fuck. I can't stop thinking about you, but I know what you are." He thrust his fingers through his hair, pulling hard at the curls above his brow. "What is this crap? You bit me, for God's sake. Twice. Tell me why you're following me, and what the hell is a pack?"
"It's not crap. Darien was my lover. And my maker. He made me what I am. He forced me to become like him, but I ran away...." Her voice trailed off. "It's complicated. Not like some movie." She shook her head, her long dark hair rustling softly over her shoulder. "Vampires live in packs, with one leader and his mate in charge. That was me, for a while, but I hated it. Darien was twisted. Most of the pack were okay, but they're bound to whatever Darien wants." She reached out, stroked his chest. "We're sensual. We live in the moment and experience everything like a sensory overload. Living together protects us and satisfies us."
He frowned at her tense face, trying to absorb it all. "And why can I see you in the mirror, anyway?"
"We show up in mirrors." She gave him a weak smile. "We don't incinerate in the sunlight, but it could, I suppose, slowly kill us. We sleep all day. We lust for sex and blood. Most of us kill. I don't. Not anymore. But I do drink blood. I drank yours." She dropped her head down to her chest, refusing to look at him. "Music helps me. Music brings the passion out in people. That's why you saw me in the bars. I live more off emotions now than blood. By feeding on the emotion, I don't need as much blood. I don't need to kill. But sex is the most satisfying. Sex and blood together are powerfully fulfilling. You're the first human I've fed off more than once. I'm sorry."
Her face spoke to him in ways her words couldn't. She regretted hurting him and possibly hated the fact that she'd ever hurt anyone. A wave of sympathy crested in his heart. This was a woman, not a creature.
But what killed Rhonda wasn't human.
He swallowed down the thought. Lena wasn't vicious enough to be Rhonda's murderer. He cupped her face in his hand, forcing her to look at him again. He brushed his thumb along her lower lip, and her mouth opened. He wanted to say something poignant, but morbid curiosity got the better of him.
"Where are your fangs?"
"They retract," she said dryly, pulling away from his touch. He gripped her arm so she couldn't avoid him. "Look, this isn't a natural science lesson. I'm not some sort of new species. Vampires have been around forever. You just didn't know it. And now you do, and I've put you in danger."
As she spoke the floor heaved beneath them and Lena stumbled in directly into his chest. Richard caught her, wrapping his arms around her slender body. He didn't want to let her go. God help him.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Eight
Turbulence. Great, just what I need.
The bumps and jerks thrust Richard against her. The motion left him no time to reflect on her words. He simply reacted as Lena's breasts flattened against him and his leg slid between her thighs. The embrace was forced, but God, did it feel good.
"You want me. Even after what I did." Her face reflected no emotion, but in her eyes he saw a little sadness and a little fear.
"Yes."
He held her through the next few bumpy minutes. Only the sound of the thrumming airplane engines and her quick breaths cut the silence. Good lord, she smells good. The seatbelt light flashed over the doorway, reminding him it was time to get out of the tight quarters and back to their seats. Before he did something stupid.
"Come on. We have to go back to our seats now."
She didn't move.
She grabbed his wrist, her grip tight over the wide cuffs of his jacket. "I don't care that you know what I am. I won't be pushed around. You dragged me in here and now you think you can drag me out again? You can't make me." Her lips twisted in a snarl. He could see the glint of one sharp fang.
He was right. He had seen fear in her eyes. What did a vampire have to be afraid of? The thought gave him confidence even as the evidence of her vampire nature sent his heart racing.
"The seatbelt sign is on, Lena." He said it gently, but firmly, and gestured toward the light with his chin. "There's probably more turbulence ahead." He kept his eyes on hers. It was probably not a good idea to make a vampire nervous, but he was going to let her know he wasn't one to be pushed around, either.
"Oh." Her voice sounded small and a pale flush crept over her cheeks. Who knew bloodsuckers could blush? He almost smiled. He could see her chagrin and could feel it in the tension that radiated off her body like heat. Were all vampires this high-strung?
She straightened and tossed her long hair back. "Okay, let's go."
He let her take charge. She seemed to need it. And she'd placed him in a position where he was right about something, no matter how small. Being right created authority. Not that I am going there with her, no matter how slowly.
Luckily, there was no one staring at the door as they slipped out. Only a few steps and they were seated again in Richard's row.
"Where is your seat?" He asked her.
"In first class." Her lips tilted in a slight sneer.
Good. She'd regained her poise enough to tease him. He had no idea what had upset her, but her discomfort was not what he wanted. If he had the opportunity he would like to make her very comfortable. Very relaxed. Open. Make that undressed and wet, then perhaps he might enjoy her in a mildly distressed state. Perhaps bound with her ass in the air, the sensitive skin raised in goose-bumps after he'd tormented her with a feather.
"I can feel your desires, Richard." She grinned. "Naughty man."
"You can read my mind?" That was far more intimacy than he was prepared for.
"No, but I can feel your emotions. Taste them." She stroked his fingers.
Richard held still, and couldn't imagine moving away from her touch. One moment he wanted her to leave him alone, and the next he needed so much more. She leaned in closer, her lips inches from his ear. And his neck. "You're delicious."
He groaned. Her low, wicked laugh heated his veins and made the airplane seats seem all the smaller. In his years at Menage, and even with Rhonda, Richard had always been the one to make the first move. He'd watch the women's reactions and push them for more. He'd loved that, but this woman, Lena, offered a sexual challenge that thrilled him.
Still, there was something unreal about his attraction to her. He felt out of control. The plane phone embedded in the seat in front of his caught Richard's eye. He'd been planning on calling home. Lena might be thrilling, but her company could be more of an indulgence than he could afford.
"Why am I in danger?" he asked.
"It's my fault, and I'm sorry." Her teasing smile faded and a small crease between her eyebrows marred her face. "Darien and I were the alpha pair of our pack. When I left, he was more than angry. I'm not sure what he wants more, to bring me back and force me into the place he sees for me, or to simply rip me apart for my disobedience. If he knew that you and I--well, that we had sex and I marked you, he would want you dead."
"Just what do you mean, you marked me?" Richard drew back, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck growing stiff. Was he about to become the Renfrew to this hot little Dracula?
"The second time I bit you, I drew deeply on your blood. I had to, Richard. I'd lost track of time and found myself trapped in the room with you by the sun. I didn't really know what you would do if I suddenly zoned out for the day. What if you drew the curtains and exposed me to sunlight? I wouldn't die, probably, but it would be painful. I don't know what could have happened. I would have tried to defend myself. We act on instinct when we sleep."
Richard thought about her actions in the bathroom. Damn straight, it was instinct. And bloody scary, too. He shivered, just a slight shudder, but he saw her reaction and felt slightly ashamed. She sat up straighter and pressed her lips together. She hadn't hurt him, but she certainly could have.
What killed your wife wasn't human.
She could have drained him dry. What if she'd killed him? What would happen to Anna? His palms slickened with fear. She'd sense he was afraid, but how could he help that? Right now he felt so confused, half terrified, half aroused, and more out of control than he'd never been in his life. She'd be lucky if he didn't have a heart attack right now.
"Taking that much blood leaves a mark, sort of like a territorial notice to other vampires. But I thought that by taking that much blood, you might sleep until the evening and I could escape before you awoke." She paused and drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
He could see that she felt strongly about this. Her face paled and the concern shone from her eyes.
"Because I marked you, I thought that if Darien had a good look at you again he would believe you were my intended, that I planned on beginning a new pack. He's crazy like that. Rivalry is something he could never handle. I don't ever want a pack again." She tore her gaze away from his. "He wants to be the only master, my master."
Her last words were so bitter Richard could almost taste them in the air. Her reluctance to give up any control and her pleasure in being in charge took new meaning. Still, he said nothing and he resisted the small urge to lean in toward her and offer some sort of comfort. Was he being controlled by her? Why else would he want to console a vampire?
"Well, he didn't see me, and now we've left him behind. So why are you following me? And does being marked mean that you have some sort of power over me? Will I start eating bugs?" He smiled weakly, but the questions were serious.
The stewardess neared with drinks and Lena bit her lower lip as she seemed to consider her words carefully. He silently willed her to speak before the stewardess got any closer and they would be unable to talk openly.
"I don't know, exactly. I've never done it, and there was only one new member other than myself in the years I was with Darien. That was right before I left, and I really didn't get to talk to her. Normally no humans were allowed near unless they were meant to be disposed of later."
Her lips pressed tightly together again. Richard could see that she wanted to say more, and he waited.
"I do know that we're different after we turn. We have pheromones that enhance sex and make it easier to disguise the pain of a bite and the taking of blood. That was one of the things that helped me understand that we didn't need to kill to survive. And we can sense emotions, feed off of them, and control them to a point. So, yes, I could shape your feelings, at least a little. But I'm not doing that."
"Why should I believe you? You pushed all the right buttons last night. You had me convinced it was the sexual connection of the century."
His voice grew ruthless now and he leaned as far away from her as he could in the cramped space. His heart pounded. She'd just confirmed his fears. She could manipulate him and use his long-repressed lust to make him forget what was important in his life. His emotions continued to sway. Want her, need her, fear her, feel for her. He had to make a stand. He couldn't let his concern for her push aside the danger she'd placed him in and now could bring home to his family.
"You want my blood, and maybe to play some sick sort of game with your ex-lover."
"No." Her voice came as a harsh whisper now, and color flooded her cheeks.
"Just leave me alone."
The stewardess stopped at their row, her smile quickly drawing down into a frown. "Is there a problem here, folks?"
"The lady was just leaving."
Lena stared at him. Her mouth worked silently, as if she chewed on words she'd like to spit at him.
"Yes, I guess so," she said after a moment.
She stood and brushed passed the stewardess. The girl stared after her as she walked up the isle. It was all Richard could do to not gaze after Lena himself. Instead he watched the stewardess lick her lips and ogle the retreating vampire.
Suddenly the girl seemed to come back to herself and focused back on Richard. A bright blush stained her cheeks. She recovered quickly and asked him for his drink order. Richard ordered a whiskey on the rocks. Pheromones. They must have caught at the stewardess as they had him. So why didn't he feel as senseless as she looked?
\*\*\*
Okay, so he was angry and afraid. He had every right to be, didn't he? Lena sighed as she settled into her wide first-class seat. So perhaps for just a moment she'd hoped he would understand. Then she might not be alone. After all, he hadn't turned on her at the hotel when he discovered her nature.
Vampire. Hunters, killers. Were they evil? Some certainly were. Darien was undoubtedly evil. Look at what he had done to her, and that was nothing compared to what he had done to countless humans. Their struggles and terror only egged him on, fed his crazed delight in their dominance and death. He drove the other pack members in the same direction, although Lena knew that they were often sickened by his actions.
Pack mentality compelled the others to obey, and Darien's strength forced the issue when there was any hint of dissent. As the leader, he tasted their blood on a regular basis, but he never shared his own other than brief sips given to Lena. God, those tiny draughts of his blood were exhilarating. Every sip burned with power. There were times she'd given in to his bizarre and painful demands simply for the taste of it.
That disgusted her, but sometimes she'd participated for the pleasure he could provide her, and those episodes made her most upset with herself. It was confusing and humiliating, what he could do to her. He could make her want the pain. No matter how much she submitted, he would make her hurt. During the first few years she'd been so naive that he'd easily bound her to him, even as she hated him for his dominance.
"Ah, I'm glad to see you back with us, miss."
The first class steward leaned a bit closer than necessary. He was young, perhaps twenty-five, with a swift smile and hot desires. His lust rose so close to the top of his thoughts that she could almost taste it. She didn't need to feed. Richard's blood would be enough to sustain her for nearly a week. But there had been times when she would have quickly welcomed his advances, hungry or not.
She'd grown better at harvesting human passion, preferring to find it in conjunction with crowds and music. She rarely needed blood more than once a week now, and never enough to kill.
"Thank you, Ryan," she read from the tag on his chest. "Could I have a glass of red wine, please?"
He smiled and left, taking his invitation with him. She wasn't even tempted. She felt drawn to Richard Heron. That much was patently true. But she barely knew the man, and he wanted her as far away as possible.
He'd expressed his fear and rejection, but she still felt his desire. Was that simply the pheromones talking? Once he was aware of the chemical reactions, he should be able to control it. They were only subconscious aids, after all.
There were other, more subtle tones to Richard's emotions as well, ones she could ponder for the next few days as she located a base of operations. No, a home. She wouldn't settle for less. She was rid of Darien and the pack, and much as she might miss some of them, her responsibilities in that area had been discharged. Darien could find another alpha mate, one that could master Darien's uncontrolled urges, and save more lives than she'd been able to.
Who are you kidding? Darien will never let a woman master him in any way.
He'd brought her in as an outsider to lead the pack because choosing an established member would upset the balance of power. She had to be an outsider so he could control her. Despite this, there had been hard feelings. She'd had to fight for her life and to defend a position that she hadn't even wanted.
Every time she won, Darien would prove to her, and prove to them all, that he was master.
The steward returned with her glass of wine and she informed him that she wouldn't be taking dinner. She could handle fluids but not solid food. She leaned her chair back and dimmed the lights so that the steward would leave her alone. Slowly she allowed her enhanced senses to open until she found the pocket of silence that belonged to Richard.
It was him. She could feel his emotions swirling in his silence. He felt afraid. But not just for himself, for someone else? Who? A tiny thread of jealousy wound its way through her mind. He was angry, too. Was it at her for bringing danger, or at himself for his yearning? That was the difficulty with reading emotions. She could sense them, but not always the reasons behind them. But the desire for her was there with a note of melancholy, too. Did he miss her?
Questions, but no answers.
She would never know the answers unless she followed him. Perhaps then she might find some answers of her own as well. New York could be a place to make a home and to find more of herself that she'd lost to Darien.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Nine
Richard scanned the crowds in the air terminal as if he were watching for terrorists. Would Lena approach him again? He hoped she would and prayed she wouldn't. But there was no sign of her as he collected his luggage and passed through customs.
Soon he caught the terminal shuttle to the long-term parking lot. It was a relief to be on his way home, the last step in a trip that seemed to last forever. He hadn't thought about it in two days, but his life was about to change. He now had enough material to complete the series of articles for Rolling Stone magazine and begin his book. He would take a little time to shake off the strange events of the last few days, and then he'd write. Anna would be delighted that he planned to be home for a long stretch of time.
Anna was such a sweet thing. How she could be, after her mother had been taken from her so brutally, was amazing. Rhonda had been murdered when Anna was only four years old. The family had held things together when Richard fell apart. His mother and Rhonda's brother John had stepped in as he'd faced one shock after another--the violent death, the discovery of Rhonda's involvement in the rougher side of the club, and the closing of Menage.
"Parking C," the driver called out as they came to a stop.
It was dark, still hours from sunrise. Cars stood in shadows interrupted by the fluorescent lamps placed far apart in the yard. Only a few steps and he would be back in his car, back on the road to home. He grabbed his bag and thanked the driver. His voice roughened with a gruff touch of anxiety. He'd never feared the darkness until now. If there were vampires, were there other horrors in the night?
Vampires were enough to worry about for now. His eyes tracked a movement at the corner of his vision, but when he turned to check it out, nothing was there. He paced a little faster toward his SUV. The warm summer air draped around him, the humidity trailing moist kisses across his cheeks and hands.
Only the sound of his footsteps and the scuffing of his bag's wheels broke the silence of the night. God, he was giving himself goose bumps. If Lena had wanted to hurt him she would have, but she was gone. Her pack was left behind in England, and there was no one in the parking lot except him.
Still, his heart raced and his stride lengthened. As he neared his vehicle, he yanked the keys from his pocket to press the remote unlock without slowing his steps. For once he didn't appreciate the darkened windows of his Ford Explorer. He tossed his suitcase in the back in a quick, fluid motion, and slammed the door back down again. He was soon seated at the wheel without a wasted motion, doors locked, ignition started, his hand already going to the seatbelt. Later, he would worry about the fact that he had checked the back seat before he got in. Paranoia isn't always a bad thing.
On the highway he relaxed a bit and admitted just how afraid he'd been. Lena scared him. He wasn't afraid of her, but of what she represented, both the unknown, and the danger for him and his family. He shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around the concept of supernatural beings in his life. There was no way any of it had been faked. She had bitten him, she did have fangs, and she was a bloodsucker.
And she's in New York.
Richard laughed. Bloodsuckers in New York? No surprise there. He sobered quickly, though. His own laughter sounded a bit odd, with a barking, hysterical note that he didn't like. He forced himself to be quiet. But the silence was too much to bear, so he flipped on the radio, and Madonna's "Die Another Day" filled the Explorer.
"Great. Now I'm double-oh-seven." Laughter threatened to consume him again.
It wasn't as though he was afraid of Lena as a woman. Had she been anything other than what she was, he would have made sure they had more time together. It wasn't even that he had lost control with her. There were times when being on the other end of the leash could be exquisite. He suspected that she didn't understand that. Her reaction to the slightest level of command from him on the plane and her fear of her former lover confirmed his suspicion that she's been abused rather than dominated.
It was the supernatural that made him flee her. How could he get past the fact that she drank blood? In the wake of his wife's murder, he'd struggled with the detective's theory on Rhonda's killer. He couldn't believe then that the old cop was anything other than insane, yet the words had haunted him. Not human. Now the truth had reared up and fucked him up.
Lena, lust, blood, death. Nearly an hour later, close to three in the morning, he arrived in his suburb of Saddle River. A light burned in his living room window, cutting into the darkness with a little of the welcome he knew he would find inside.
He parked in the driveway and hopped out into the night air. He'd shaken off the sensation of being followed during the ride, but as he walked to the back of the SUV, the muscles across his shoulders and back tensed.
Richard scanned the street, still dark despite the dim streetlights. Nothing. No movement manifested on the road nor in the small forest edging his property. Nothing caught his eye in the shadowed trees. Finally he retrieved his suitcase from the back of the SUV. The feeling of being watched didn't ebb.
The front door to the house flew open. A small body hurtled out--Anna, clad in her favorite short orange summer pajamas, her legs flashing white in the night as she ran toward him. Richard bit down on the surprised curse that nearly escaped his mouth and instead dropped to his knees to catch her as she flung herself against him.
"Daddy!"
"What are you doing out here, little pumpkin?" He hugged her close and kissed her forehead.
"Waiting for you of course, silly. I heard the truck."
With another careful check of the property, Richard picked her up, something that was becoming harder and harder to do. At seven she was over four feet tall and growing steadily. She kissed his cheek and smiled at him, her blue eyes glowing. She looked like an angel but laughed like a little devil.
"Hey, what happened to your hair?" He fluffed the brown curls, much shorter now than they had been when he'd left.
"Gram cut it. There was a serious gum incident."
"Incident, huh?" He set her down and shut the Explorer's door.
She grabbed the suitcase handle and dragged the bag toward the door. He scooped her up again. The sooner they were inside the better. He strode to the house, one arm clutching his daughter, one hand gripping his suitcase, adrenaline pumping. Stepping in the house, Richard firmly shut the door on the night.
\*\*\*
Lena watched from the shelter of the trees as Richard greeted the little girl, his daughter. A soft breeze rippled the silk of Lena's blouse and caressed her hair. It would soon be time to find protection from the sun while she slept. Richard must suspect she remained nearby. His watchful bearing proved he was aware of her, perhaps sensed her eyes upon him. Or maybe he was simply that sort of man, watchful in the dark. She hardly knew him.
Richard was a thoughtful lover and a loving man. But what else was he? Open, as he had accepted the truth of what she was, and forgiving, as he hadn't called the cops. Strong. Used to being in charge. But not trusting. It was clear that he didn't want her around his family. He was protecting his child.
Well, she couldn't blame him. She dropped her satchel and leaned against the thick trunk of an oak tree. Darien could use the child against Richard in so many ways. She shuddered. Don't go there. Not yet.
Her energy level was low. She'd need the day's rest. Her run here was taking a toll. At least she hadn't had to follow the SUV directly. Richard's address was on his ticket receipt, and a map gave her plenty of cross-country shortcuts. She slipped her shoes back onto her feet. Carrying the heels for her run had just been one more annoyance.
Her senses were open here in the woods. Richard's house was the only one with any conscious life. The rest held sleeping occupants. She shut her eyes and concentrated on Richard's home and could feel the vibrant emotions that passed between father and child. Amusement and joy. Security and comfort. Belonging and a deep love. These soft passions slid across her senses and eased her tension. She couldn't feed from these feelings because there wasn't enough power and she stood too far away, but she could sip their gentle sweetness.
The lights blinked out and Lena could imagine he was tucking his daughter into her bed again, encouraging her to sleep before the night was gone completely.
Lena wrenched herself from the link, shutting her reception off entirely. She'd taken several steps toward the house and left the shelter of the trees as she concentrated on what was happening inside. With a start she realized she'd been standing there, exposed, for several minutes. She retreated back to the woods quickly, turning her back on the house.
She wanted desperately to belong inside with them. She understood that it was part of her pack mentality, this desire to be surrounded by family, but this was so much more than she'd experienced with her pack. She wanted Richard badly, her lust singing in her bones, but she also wanted the comfort and love his daughter offered so easily to him. It was nothing like the pack she'd lived with for so long.
"Lena."
She whirled around, shocked that Richard had come so close to her without her sensing his approach. The breeze took away his scent, but surely she should have felt him. He was pulsing with emotion.
"What are you doing here? I don't want you here." His words were harsh and his breathing ragged.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Ten
"God damn it, Lena. Answer me." He grabbed her shoulders and shook her slender body. She'd followed him again and he needed to know why. This was his home. He wouldn't let anything endanger his family.
"I wanted to see where you lived." Her voice was soft and husky. "Don't be angry."
Did she know what it did to him, listening to her throaty voice in the darkness, especially with that hint of deference in her timbre? Her eyes wouldn't meet his. No one could see them from the house. Her cinnamon and musk scent reached him through the pungent, living odor of the forest. Pheromones, she'd said. The scent curled around him, teased him as he gripped her tightly by the shoulders.
He gritted his teeth in anger. She'd controlled him from the moment they'd met, perhaps even before they'd met through her scent and her mind. She'd driven him into a sexual frenzy and fed from him. She'd brought danger to him and now perhaps to his very doorstep. And now, in confronting her, she had the audacity to act like a lost child, to expect him not to be angry at her?
"Lena," he growled.
She trembled, a ripple that flowed through her body. Her movement, her shuttered eyes, and her pallor, tore Richard in two. In that moment he wanted to both drive her away and protect her. And there was a part of him that wanted to possess her and make her his own. He gave in to the urge.
He abruptly drew her body hard against his. Like a swift hawk he dove for her mouth, opening her lips and pressing for entrance. His tongue invaded her, and he used it as he would like to use his cock, penetrating her, thrusting inside her. He wanted her and he was going to have her, all of her. This time he would be in control.
For a moment she didn't react, simply accepted his plundering kiss. He shifted his leg between hers and knelt to press her down to the mossy ground. She moaned. It wasn't a rejection, but it resonated with soft protest. He ignored it, lowering his weight atop her body, leveraging the angle of his leg to press his pelvic bone into the heat of her cleft.
She squirmed beneath him, her tiny struggles forcing her to rub harder against him. Vampires were supposed to be incredibly strong. If she didn't really want this, she would force him away from her. She wasn't helpless. His control and her submission would always be at her desire, the same power every submissive wielded over her dom.
"Richard, please," she whimpered beneath his lips as he ground harder against her. With only one arm against the earth to support him, the full length and weight of his body covered hers.
"Don't talk. Listen. You're so beautiful, Lena. You drive me crazy in ways I can't even categorize to myself, let alone describe to you." His free hand dropped to her breast, and he squeezed her hard.
"Oh," she gasped.
He yanked her blouse until the buttons were forced to slip from their holes or let go entirely. "I want you. You took my blood. You used me. Now I need something back. I need you."
He flipped her bra up over the curve of her breast and slid downward until he could fit his mouth against her nipple. He sucked the whole areola into his heated mouth and felt it swell beneath his onslaught.
He settled his other leg between her thighs and forced her hips more fully open. His fingers raked her pants zipper. She still wore the same clothes she'd shed at the hotel. The soft cotton and silk must be getting soaked with the night's dew, but he would worry about that later. Right now he wanted her naked. She'd just have to face the elements, no real hardship in the sultry summer heat.
She struggled a little now. If she meant it to inflame him, it was doing the trick. He tried harder to get her pants open. With his mouth full of her breast, he wouldn't be able to stop her if she screamed, but somehow he didn't think that was what she wanted.
Her hand gripped his shoulder. He thought it was in heated response, but when she suddenly bucked him off and then rolled to pounce on his prostrate body, he grunted in surprise. Now she held him pinned to the damp ground.
There was anger in her posture, but she never said a word. From her heaving chest came ragged pants. It was too dark to see her eyes or her expression. He didn't move.
"If anyone is going to take charge here, it's going to be me." She stood slowly and pressed one yellow high heel delicately against the swell of his crotch.
\*\*\*
So, the bastard thought he could be her master. Well, forget it.
"I've had one master and am done with it. I'll never beg again for mercy or release," she hissed at him.
There were only a few hours left before dawn. She could feel the pressure and the danger of the rising sun. There would be time for this. She would make time. She would make him beg for her.
With her improved eyesight, she could see him even if he couldn't see her. The tiny porch light at Richard's back door filtered to her inside the edge of the woods. He looked shocked.
She stepped back and kicked off her heels, quickly, efficiently. She dragged her purse strap over her head and tossed it aside. Shedding her few clothes, damp now anyway from the earth, she spread them over a nearby bush even though there was no chance they would have time to dry. Then she knelt and straddled him.
"Lena," he whispered. She could hear the confusion and regret in his voice, but she didn't care. She didn't bother to extend her emotional sensors toward him. Why take in his negativity? She knew he wanted to humiliate her, just as Darien had, by making her give in to her desires and give in to him.
Now he would do the begging.
"Relax. It won't hurt. Much." The words were hauntingly familiar and she used them on purpose. Let him feel what it was to be afraid and yet desperate with need. Just as she'd felt that need in the past.
She bent to kiss him, using her powers now to boost his arousal. He groaned against her lips. He reached for her, but she caught his hands, clasped his wrists together, and held them above his head, pinning him to the ground with one hand. She thrust her tongue into his mouth and tasted his masculine flavor. Delicious, but she was still too angry.
She ripped at his shirt roughly enough that it split under her nails, which scratched the bare skin of his chest. His hips thrust upward under the heat of her pussy. She pinched his flat nipple, twisting and rolling it in her fingers. Her tongue continued to plunge in and out of his mouth, mimicking the action her pheromones should be promising his body by now.
The desire was there to gorge again on his blood. She didn't need it, but she wanted it. He was getting to her despite her anger. He twisted beneath her, his arousal evident despite his embarrassment that she'd turned the tables on him, that she rode him now and took what she liked when he'd intended to be in charge.
She deepened the kiss from a simple penetration and plundering of his lips to a delicate mating of the mouths. She nibbled him, sucked him, devoured him. And while her greedy mouth destroyed him, she unsnapped his pants and drew down the zipper.
"Lena." He voiced encouragement through their kiss. Or was it complaint? She refused to open her senses enough to know for sure.
Her hand delved into the tight confines of his crotch. He was swollen, his erection outrageous. She pulled it into the open and stroked him, her fingers wrapping around his silken shaft, her motions strong and sure.
He bucked under her, trying to dislodge her hand still pinning him against the moss and dirt of the forest floor. There was no chance of that. It was strangely quiet as she began to rub the wet lips of her pussy over his cock. Her naked breasts dangled over his chest, the distended nipples dragging across his rough chest hair, their points hard and begging for another kiss.
"Lena," he groaned again. "Lena, please."
She laughed, low and sultry. She was in charge now and the power flooded her, despite the slight hollowness of the act.
She stroked her heated center over his smooth skin, burying him in the sensation. Finally she reached down and grabbed him again, lifting him to point upward into the apex of her desire.
"Yes, Lena."
"No, Richard."
His eyes flew open at her teasing refusal.
"Yes!" Mere inches away from the hot sheath that could bring him the ultimate release, he tried to thrust upward into her crevice. He couldn't do it. Her hips held him steady.
"Or, maybe yes," she said slowly, carefully lowing herself onto his tip.
She stared into his eyes as she slid onto him, just a tiny bit, an inch, only to pull away again until he barely brushed her opening.
Then she did it again.
"Lena, Lena, please." He sounded desperate. She opened her senses to him now, ready to taste his humiliation after he had nearly brought about her own.
Oh, dear God. He wasn't angry. He was confused and so agitated that he felt desperate, but he had no trace of thwarted dominance. He wanted completion, but he wanted to please as well. He was willing to beg if that was what she wanted.
In shock she released his trapped hands. With her kiss she offered him what she herself had always wanted, release without humiliation.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
His hands clasped her waist. He savored her taste. Her senses were wide open as he thrust inside her, and she marveled at his passion. She moaned as he lifted her slightly, giving him room to stroke into her heat. She plunged with him, riding his lust as well as his body, until nothing mattered except the contractions of her tight sheath.
As her climax faded, he wrapped one arm around her back and rolled their paired bodies to the side so that they faced each other on the mossy ground. He slid one leg under her body, leveraging her hips upward. Lena groaned. The motion stroked her clit, still incredibly sensitive from her orgasm. Now he rolled his hips, rocking his cock into her pussy. He drew her right leg up over his hip so he could thrust deeper.
Letting him take charge suddenly felt more right than every second she'd spent working to remain in control.
He licked her lips and sucked them slowly. Her moans spurred him on. The man had stamina. He stroked her breasts, pinched her nipples, and she shuddered, the sensation devastating her. She opened her mouth wider even as she rocked her hips in rhythm with his. His hand ran down her body, caressing the curve of her waist and the smooth skin of her backside.
With gentle fingers he teased her from behind, adding the sensation of his touch to the thrust of his erection. She groaned and in that moment surrendered completely, throwing back her head to expose her throat to him.
"Yes." His voice was harsh, his exclamation an emphasis, as she felt his erection pulsing inside her. With his climax he thrust harder in a primal moment that brought her to a second orgasm.
Then they lay still, both of them. He in that glowing after-moment of contentment, she in shock. Satisfied, for certain, but shock nonetheless. He'd never wanted to be her master, only her lover, but she'd surrendered to him anyway. Did Darien do this to me? Make me long for a leash? Or was this what Darien sensed all along? The thought frightened her so badly that she felt sick.
She shoved away from him, untangled their limbs, and staggered toward her clothes.
"Lena, come back." He reached for her, but she held up her hand for him to stop.
"The sun is coming. I need to run."
"Oh." He leaned back, deflated. "Where are you going?"
"I need to rest for the day. I'll find a place that's safe and dark." She hesitated, half dressed. "I won't come back, if that's what you want."
He rose from the ground, ignoring his near nakedness. "Lena, why are you really here? Why are you still following me? I don't want you to leave, but I can't risk my family's safety. Is that what I would be doing if I asked you to stay?"
"I don't know."
Lena grabbed for her shoes, scooping up one, but he snatched the other before she reached it.
"Come back tomorrow night. Talk to me about all this. Tell me what's happening. Please. Maybe I can help."
He meant it. She could feel his sincerity despite his fear for his family. And, despite the orgasm just moments before, he wanted more. Much more.
"Maybe." She snatched the shoe and fled from his potent stare. He didn't need to humiliate her to dominate her. She desperately wanted to do as he asked. The only question was why.
A mile passed and she was becoming more concerned about the time. Her back itched as if the sun's rays were trying to catch her. She needed shelter. If she was right, the sun would arrive in fifteen minutes. She'd burn, so, so slowly. How long would it take her to die? Despite the movie tales, she wouldn't go up in a puff of smoke. It would be more like radiation sickness, slow and horrible.
She reached a deep, fast river that forced her stomach into a rolling twist. Running water was bad for vampires. They couldn't swim. But sometimes running water meant shelter. Yes, a dark hollow in the predawn light lured her crashing down to the river bank. A cave. Not a deep one, just the hollows formed by thick old tree roots, but big enough that she could collapse the entrance behind her and be safe. She was sheltered as the morning sun began its ascent.
Evan had taught her this trick. He was the only one of the pack she actually missed. He had begun to listen to her and to think about what she was saying about not killing. But it was clear he hadn't forgiven her for running and had gone back to following Darien's lead. She prayed he and the pack were still in London, that her trail was growing cold, too cold for even Evan the bloodhound to find her.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Eleven
The mouth-watering scent of bacon and coffee brought Richard back to life when it seemed nothing could. He rolled over in his bed, or tried to despite the tightly wound sheets. Most of his bedding was missing, likely thrown to the floor, but one white cotton sheet was so tightly twisted around him that it nearly immobilized him.
"Rough night," he mused aloud. His voice sounded rusty to his ears, as though he hadn't used it in months. His head pounded. He hadn't slept much and now he was paying for it. He'd dreamed of vampires. And of Lena.
A small head with curling brown hair popped up over the edge of the bed.
"Daddy!"
"Hello, pumpkin. What are you doing down there?" Richard propped himself up on one elbow and eyed his daughter. She'd made a nest on the floor out of the fallen covers.
She crawled onto the bed and flopped her small body down against his.
"Reading. Grammie took me to the library while you were gone."
She waved the book far too close to his face for comfort. Predictably, it appeared to be a fantasy book about magic, this time a witch. He grabbed her and hugged her close for a moment before she began to squirm.
"Grammie says to tell you to come out for something to eat when you wake up."
"Okay, pumpkin, let's go."
She bounced out of the bed and out the door like a small tornado. He followed, slipping on a T-shirt but leaving his feet bare.
Sunshine streamed in through the windows. Everything looked comfortably ordered, his mother's constant efforts evident in the bright rooms. As usual, she held everything together for him. After Rhonda's death, she'd stepped in and never said a word about the end of Richard's alternative lifestyle.
"Hi, Mom." He stepped into the kitchen, met by the tempting scent of coffee and the kind smile of his mother.
"Hello, hon. How was your trip?" She stood near the stove, spatula in hand, but she looked nothing like a Norman Rockwell painting. She was tall and lanky, like him, and wore cut-off jeans and a happy face T-shirt.
"Great. I've got everything I need to get going on the book." He sat at the small kitchen table. She neatly filled a plate with bacon, toast and scrambled eggs.
"And the magazine articles?" She sat beside him, handing him his breakfast.
"Yes, enough material for the bread and butter too." He picked up a fork and ate.
"You look tired. Didn't you get any rest?" She leaned on her elbow, watching him wolf down the food.
"Some. But it's hard to report on bands without spending long hours in the bars."
"Hmmm. And the women? Meet anyone nice?"
How did she always know? "I met someone interesting, but I wouldn't say nice."
"Oh, really?"
God, she could put a wealth of meaning into that phrase.
"And I brought presents," he announced loudly. As expected, Anna popped into the room, successfully ending any further inquiries by his mother.
"Presents?" Anna bounced around the table.
"Go grab my jacket. There might be something in the pocket."
He barely had time to grin at his mother before Anna came flying back with his jacket clutched in her hands.
"Here, Daddy."
Her smile was so bright, it nearly hurt his heart. "Here, pumpkin." He handed her the Blarney Stone in its small box.
She popped the top off and cocked her head to one side with a smile. "What is it, Daddy?"
Her grandmother reached for the box. Her soft chuckle warmed his heart.
"It's a Blarney Stone," he told his daughter. "A magic stone that gives a person the gift of gab, the ability to tell a story."
"Oh thank you, Daddy, I love it." She threw herself into his arms, her motions as always a whirlwind of action.
"You're welcome." He snuggled her closer to him and inhaled her scent. "What shall we do today?"
She sat up. "Let's go to the library."
"The library? On a beautiful day like this? There's only two weeks of summer vacation left."
She bounced out of the chair and his arms.
"Oh, yes, I need something new to read. And can we go to the park afterward, please?"
"Okay, honey. Sounds great. Better go get dressed so we can go. I've slept half the day away."
"Okay, be right back."
"She's been going through books like she's eating them." His mother stood and returned to the stove, collecting the now cool frying pan. She dropped it into the sink. Richard smiled at her back, relieved and grateful to be home again, to feel normal again.
"Nothing wrong with that." Richard took another bite of breakfast.
"No, nothing wrong with reading but, Richard, I think you'd better check on what she's reading. It's a little old for her, I think, even if she is reading ahead of her age." She turned back to look at Richard, a small frown creasing a face simply too youthful to belong to a grandmother.
"Daddy, I'm ready, are you done?" Anna danced into the room. "Hey, you're not done."
Richard took another bite and washed the bacon down with his coffee. "Not yet, baby. So what are you looking for at the library today?"
"A new Black Legend book."
A small chill raced down Richard's back. His mother was leaning against the sink, her posture telling him she was listening although her back was to them. The sun was shining into the room, the bright yellow walls glowing with light. This had to be a coincidence.
"Black Legend. Those are a little old for you, pumpkin."
"I like them. I love vampires."
\*\*\*
Richard slammed the door on the back of the SUV after grabbing the bag of library books. Anna chatted nonstop at his side as they walked toward the house, her bright face animated as she spoke of the things she'd done while he'd been away. He only partly listened. While at the library he'd begun his research in earnest. His vampire research.
There were a lot of conflicting stories. He wasn't sure, but he felt he could rule some of them out. He'd seen Lena's reflection, for one thing, so he assumed that he could take her picture. He seriously doubted the claims they could morph into bats or disappear into fog. He also doubted whether holy water or crosses would harm them. Vampires were found in every culture, in one form or another, and Christianity's symbols weren't.
There were definitely some things that rang true. All the legends claimed they drank blood and couldn't stand the sun. Lena had confirmed that. She'd also confirmed the reports of extraordinary strength and mental abilities, and he suspected that she would heal quickly and live an extended life. How old could she be?
He almost stumbled on the doorstep as Anna pulled his sleeve to grab at his attention.
"Daddy, you aren't listening again," she accused.
"Sorry, bug." He set the books on the hall table and gave her a quick hug. "I was just thinking about things. But we are going to have lots of time together from now on. I don't have any more trips for a long time."
She hugged him back hard. "Good." She grabbed the bag of books. He smiled. Not one vampire book in there for either of them. Now he needed to do some online research on a computer without parental controls.
He hadn't been able to find out about vampires living in packs, but he'd picked up a few hints about their sexual appetites. The local library wasn't the place to find out any more. He walked to his office, noting that his mother had refrained for once from straightening up his desk. Thank God.
Richard chewed his lip. Why didn't I research this when Rhonda was murdered? Fear. It had to be fear, terror at the thought that what killed her wasn't something he could control. Life at the club meant he was always in control, even when the clients thought otherwise. With Rhonda's death, control was no longer an option.
He sat in the familiar mess and powered up the desktop. He'd completely cut off contact with most of the people he'd met through the club. But a few friends might know about pack life, or at least the sensual aspect of it. He logged onto MSN and heaved a sigh of relief. "Lady M" was online.
Master R: hey Lady, long time no talk
Lady M: well hello! where have u been, gorgeous?
Master R: I've been quiet, off the scene
Lady M: tell me what I don't know. I've missed u, and your little entertainments. R u coming back?
Richard licked his lips and took a moment to compose his reply carefully. Lady M was actually a young gay man who'd hoped to find a permanent master in Richard, but he liked things a little rougher than Richard preferred. This was why Richard contacted him. M might have the kind of connections that could shed some light on the life Lena had left.
Master R: Sorry, there's no going back. The club is gone and life is changed. But, I need info, can you help?
Lady M: I miss our times together. I have a new man now, but he's not like u, no finesse
Master R: remember, you are the sub, although he masters u, u can control how, get him to see what u need
Lady M: hmmm. What do u need for info?
Master R: I need info on vampire sex & pack life
Lady M: whoa! U sure u aren't coming back?? And if not can I go with u?
Master R: sorry babe, this is research only, lol
Lady M: this isn't your usual stuff. They can be rough. Some really think they r vampires. Very wild.
Master R: exactly
Lady M: well okay, if you won't take me with, enjoy your ride. try kentavamp.darkfence.pack.def.com I only know the first password, bloodlust
Master R: thanks.
Within moments Richard was delving into the site M had recommended. It made his eyebrows creep up his forehead. Group sex hardly described the squirming mass of sensuality on his screen. There were videos offered, but only if he had the appropriate passwords. The stills offered enough to make his cock throb. He'd never imagined being interested in this sort of scene. At the club he'd only held one-on-one sessions, but he could imagine the impact it might have on a group to live together like this. They would become addicted quickly. Throw in what Lena had described as emotional feedback, and, well, he could see she might be missing it.
He read the commentaries. The author of the site claimed to be a member of this particular pack. It was hard to say if they were real vampires, but everything pointed that way. He sucked in his breath as he read about the alpha male and female. Just like in a wolf pack, they were the only breeders, in this case the only ones with enough power to create new vampires. This was what Lena meant about marking him.
She also said she was done having a master. Many of the digital images reflected the harder side of s&m, and he licked his lips as he envisioned Lena in the submissive poses that the girls offered on the site. Except she'd been alpha, supposedly the one in control? He scrolled down the site and stopped at a graphic shot of a young woman in leather tied to a bed. He pictured Lena in leather in the same position.
The office door banged open and he jumped, jabbing his finger into the monitor's power button. His heart raced as Anna skidded into the room on junior roller blades. Her face was glowing with a bright smile.
"I'm going out to skate, Daddy." She practically sang the words and was already turning to leave before he could reply.
"Don't be out late. Supper is at 5:30." He sat back and let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding as she left the room.
He rubbed a hand over his face. His neck was tense. Lena must be torn, lost without the pack but hating it in turn, if he was right about her ex humiliating her in front of the very people she was supposed to govern. Frankly, he wasn't sure he could share any woman in his life like that, not constantly with a group. But could Lena continue to live without that kind of sensual input forever? Doubtful. And in truth, the desire to dominate her was so strong, he doubted he could fight the urge to win her submission, even knowing her history. Her fear might be more than she could manage.
Lena and he had both changed their sexual lifestyles and evolved to something different, but underneath she still had the urge to submit, despite her powers. If he was to maintain his mastery, she would have to learn that physical dominance involving pain was not the only kind. It was a good thing that subtlety was his specialty.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Twelve
Lena woke to the dying sunlight. She'd slept in the earth before, but never on her own or in the wild. It was eerie. Her hearing extended far beyond the human range, and she could hear the life around her, the small creatures that lived in the earth. It could have been creepy, but the tiny insects didn't bother her. They simply existed, as did she.
She breathed in the scent of the soil. In a few more moments the sun would dip below the horizon, and she could break free from the small cave. She would need to find something safer for the next night if she was going to stay in the area. Was that such a good idea? Richard had asked her to come back to talk to him. What a relief it would be to openly discuss her life with someone.
Whether because she could sense his emotions or because she was developing some new psychic power, she knew she could trust Richard. He wouldn't betray her. He wasn't using her and he didn't want to hurt her. What he did want was a little less clear.
Tonight she would need to hunt. The flight, her long runs, and even the incredible sex had taken a toll on her energy stores. She'd learned early never to deplete her hoard of energy. That was a dangerous mistake.
The sun was down. Her body knew the moment at which she was free to leave the shelter of the earth and slip into the night. Cautiously, she extended her senses to make sure there was no one to see the vulnerable moment when she rose. All clear. She kicked through the rocks and dirt blocking the cave entrance and crawled out, dragging her satchel with her. It didn't require much effort, but getting out was still a dirty job.
If Darien could see her like this, would he like it? Covered in grime, she would appear animalistic and weak. That would appeal to him, having her humbled. On the other hand, he would hate to touch the filth in her hair.
The river would help with that. She shed her stained clothing and carefully placed one foot into the running water.
"Gah!" The cold shock against the warmth of the summer evening took her breath away. She left her other foot planted firmly against the bank and did her best to not look at the flowing water as she bent to rinse her hair, face and neck. When she straightened, the cool water dribbled down her breasts and back, tightening her nipples with a delicious tingle.
Lena grimaced as she scrambled from the riverbank to the flattened grass above. She threw her wet clothing aside, but there was nothing fresh left in her bag. She'd have to wear something. "Okay. Clothes first, then food." Both meant people, the city. It wasn't a far run to New York, but it would mean further depleting her stored energy. She pulled on the least rumpled clothes.
First though, she needed to stretch and warm her muscles from the cold, cramped sleep in the damp cave. This place was as good as any, empty of people as it was. She stood tall and bowed deeply, honoring the many karate teachers she'd had over the years. Swiftly she ran through her seven katas. Then she crafted a makeshift bo staff from a fallen branch. She blocked imaginary foes in her first exercise, and then attacked, each parry and thrust coming faster and faster. This was something that Darien didn't know, the study of ancient weapons. At least he probably didn't know it. She'd never seen him reach for a weapon of any kind, preferring to use only his fists and fangs.
With thoughts of Darien fresh in her mind she decided her trip to the city would serve three purposes, clothes, food, and weapons.
Her exercises finished, she discarded the makeshift bo. About five miles away she found a town, and clothes hanging on a line, not yet taken in for the night. Simple cotton underwear, jeans and another T-shirt, but at least they were her size. Too bad her yellow heels couldn't be so easily replaced. She sighed, and then grimaced. No point in trying to run in them. She snapped the heels off each shoe in one quick motion.
In moments she was running toward the big lights and dark alleys of downtown New York. The high walls of the buildings surrounded a mass of humanity. No one would notice her or her activities. There would be time for food, and shoes, and weapons.
Before she reached the maze of highway overpasses that led to the airport, she realized she needn't go any further. Everything she needed was here. She slipped into an alley.
The night dominated now, the shadows deep in the pockets between streetlights. Here in the alley she could hear the steady base beat of drums, like a heartbeat. A nearby bar, pumping out music like blood through arteries. At only nine o'clock it seemed early for the pounding rhythms, but travelers to the airport appeared to be stopping here for booze or for something else.
"Hey lady, you okay?" A timid voice called from the front of the alley.
The voice had a pretty-boy face. Lena stood in the shadows and watched him. His hair spiked upward in short blades and a series of rings glinted from his left earlobe. She knew his type. His artfully torn but tight jeans and open shirt were practically the uniform of the local prostitutes. Claws of hunger ripped at her belly. Not good. She was far more depleted than she'd thought, and the run here had made it much worse.
He wouldn't be working this street unless he was very new. The nearby airport meant tourists, and too many tourists meant a police presence. The club would be too empty this early. There would be no chance to blend in and feed on emotion, especially because it was a weeknight. Opportunity called. She beckoned the boy forward with a wave of her hand.
"I'm fine. Come here." He would obey the simple command. Streetwalkers always did. She wouldn't look like his regular type of client, dressed as she was. She was also likely the wrong sex.
His walk became a swagger. She took in his youth, his inexperience, and his desperation. She guessed his age as nineteen. His emotions spoke loudly to her, easily interpreted as they ran from fear to excitement, shame to lust. He needed the money a quick lay could bring him.
"How much?" She reached out to stroke the fabric of his shirt. Clean, but a cheap polyester blend. God, he's thin. The sound of his heartbeat drove away the nearby noise of late night traffic.
"Fifty a go." She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.
"Come on around the corner."
"Right here?" His eyes widened.
"Ah, but I only want a kiss." She ran her hand inside his shirt and traced the line of veins across his chest. His pulse quickened, his responses so strong she had to fight the urge to drink him in at once.
He reached for her, fumbling as he stroked her arms. Her hunger warred with pity. She could sense he needed money. He needed food. Fresh bruises marred the thin muscles covering his chest. Her senses generally didn't give her more than impressions of emotions, but he had been badly hurt and the feelings surrounding the incident were powerful. She shoved the violent image from her mind.
She wouldn't hurt him. Before he could cup her breast, she eased away. He followed her without a word around the corner to the back of the alley.
Control. She must, as always, fight for it. Beyond his heartbeat only the soft noise of a scurrying rat caught her attention. There was no one nearby. His hunger pulled at hers. His myriad emotions made her lick her lips. The tip of her tongue brushed the sharpened points of her teeth as they dropped from their sheaths. She slid her hand inside his shirt to feel the vibrant pulsing of his heart, and then gently pressed him back against the wall of the building.
She rubbed her cheek against his neck, breathing in the scent of his skin. Her pheromones would be at work, increasing his libido and his heart rate. Blood would flush through his body, and his primal instinct would be to grab her and screw her as quickly as possible. That basic understanding was part of her now. What was new was that she felt nothing for him other than pity. No sexual excitement at all.
Silently, she knelt onto the grimy cement, her head level with his fly. He stood still but his emotions rolled in waves. She sensed that standing above her gave him the fleeting impression of power, a heady moment. She drank it in. His emotions fed her soul, just as his blood would satisfy her body.
Darien would laugh at her. Richard would be confused and perhaps offended at the picture of her kneeling before a scummy hooker. This poor boy didn't get to feel in control often, and Lena offered it now. She couldn't offer him comfort. Like everyone else she was about to use him. She could only think of Richard, and how he would curl his lips and turn away from her if he knew what she did when she was hungry.
"Just a kiss." She pressed her lips to a rip in his jeans. His blood raced close beneath the surface of his thigh. She licked his skin, wetting his flesh with her saliva and numbing his pain sensors. A quick nip brought the blood to the surface and she sucked hard at the soft flow of life.
His gasp, soft and quick, spoke of pleasure with only a touch of pain. She didn't have to look. He would enjoy this until he died, if she let him. Swallow after swallow.
He had an erection. She paused mid-gulp. Why did she feel nothing? No flames of desire licked at her. Blood welled under her lips and she swallowed again, returning to her feeding. The boy groaned, rocking his hips back and forth in pleasure as she sucked. She drew deep, timing her swallows as he reached a peak, his cock still trapped in the tight confines of his narrow jeans. She could give him that, at least. He toppled over the edge into orgasm, and she licked her bite clean and shut.
She stood but didn't try to help him adjust. He could clean up later on his own. Her saliva, so good at numbing her bite, would also close the tiny wound she'd made in his skin. Instead, she pulled three twenty-dollar bills from her pocket and tucked it into his. He smiled, dazed.
"Go and get something to eat. A nice red steak." She left him and the alley without looking back.
\*\*\*
Lena flagged an airport taxi. A swift ride had her downtown in moments. The cost seemed high, and the taxi was rank with smoke but she couldn't care less. She simply wanted to rest and not think about anything for the duration of the ride. Or anything but Richard.
She blinked as she climbed out of the cab. For once she was not worried about Darien, but about another man. She hadn't thought about her ex in hours, a surprisingly shocking revelation. Perhaps she would finally put it all behind her. The thought lifted her spirits and brought a startled smile to her lips.
So it was shocking to feel the anger that slapped her psyche with sudden brutality.
Her pulse raced as she scanned the street around her, trying hard to appear calm and unaware. She wasn't completely certain that the emotion had been directed toward her. She might have picked up someone's feelings from the road, but there didn't seem to be any likely candidates. She felt the hair on the back of her neck lift like the hackles of a cornered animal.
It was gone. Perhaps she'd caught the emotion from someone passing by. Perhaps not. Her calm mood banished, she took a deep breath to regain her composure. Her shoulders itched. The sensation raised her internal alarms. It felt familiar, like when she'd been part of the pack and felt Darien's eyes on her. He would watch her before he took her for another round of proper behavior training.
She changed her mind. No more walking alone. She thumped the roof of her cab, still parked at the curb.
"Hold it. I need to go farther than this," she told the driver as she climbed back inside. Shoes and clothes be damned. She needed weapons. Now.
"Sixth Avenue. New Hope Martial Arts." She instructed the driver in a curt, don't-talk-to-me-now voice. The odor of the back seat was horrible to her enhanced sense of smell. Hadn't they passed the no-smoking ban here in public vehicles? At least she was inside the car, a moving target. "God. I'm getting truly paranoid."
"What's that?" The driver's voice was heavily accented, East Indian, perhaps.
"Nothing, sorry."
She felt it again. Anger, tinged with annoyance this time. A familiar taste, that emotion. Lena stared at the driver. It wasn't coming from him. She peered out the window and her stomach churned. Could it be Darien? She couldn't afford to vomit right now and lose the fresh blood, but she desperately wanted to. The stink of her own terror would soon overpower the stench of cigarettes. The return of her anxiety and the loss of strength sickened her. She needed action, not panic.
"New Hope Martial Arts," she urged the driver again.
She continued to search for the elusive source of the emotion. Nothing. A moment later the driver was pulling over. She paid him quickly. Her cash was quickly being depleted, but she had other resources.
New Hope was fairly large shop, rising two stories above the street level. Thank God it was still open. This truly was the "city that never sleeps." The itching between her shoulders becoming a tingling in her scalp as the hairs on the back of her neck rose again in alarm.
She dashed inside, nearly slamming the door into the wall. Commercial martial art supplies covered the walls. Her teeth clenched. She needed decent weapons, and this place claimed to have two floors of weaponry. Instead she surveyed hundreds of pairs of sneakers and how-to videos. Crap. Sayuri, the youngest member of her pack, had talked about this martial arts shop. She was the only member of the pack to regularly carry a weapon of any kind, but she'd been turned shortly before Lena left, so they'd barely spoken to each other. She'd known what to do with a knife, so Lena had hoped New Hope would be a good source. Now she feared there would be nothing here for her.
"Can I help you, miss?" A young Asian man approached her. Dressed in loose black clothing, he was lean and well muscled, moving gracefully like a true fighter. Perhaps there was hope yet.
"I was told this was the place for quality supplies. I need blades. Real ones, not toys or practice tools." Her voice was sharp and abrupt.
He stood straighter, his eyes serious for a moment as if judging her. "Come up to the second floor. There may be something there you can use."
She followed him to the stairs, but not closely. It always paid to have a little maneuvering room. The business catered to many different styles of martial arts. There were karate gis and Shaolin monk robes, kick-boxing foot-covers, and Tae Kwon Do kitbags. She shook her head and prayed it wasn't this commercialized upstairs.
The second floor was silent. There were very few customers anywhere in the store, but none at all up here. She extended her senses to be sure. Nothing, thank God. She hunched her shoulders and hoped it stayed that way, at least until she was well armed.
"We have practice swords and collector's knives to your left. Sharps on the right."
Lena shifted toward the right.
"What you want is at the back."
Lena stole a look at him. He gave away nothing by his expression, and her psychic senses detected no pang of emotion, not even an interest in a sale. Odd for a human. But his stance had changed, his body betraying him in the slightest of shifts. He stood on the balls of his feet, relaxed but poised to fight. She licked her lips, slowly, purposefully exposing more teeth than she needed to. She watched the tiniest tension change in his muscles. He suspected what she was.
"I need real steel."
"I know."
"It isn't for you and I will be paying."
"I would hope so." He didn't smile but a tiny glint of humor reached his eyes. Perhaps he was human, after all. She looked at him more sharply. Not a vampire. But something about him was not as it seemed. What exactly had Sayuri said about this shop? The details were lost in the bloodlust and pain Lena had experienced in her last year with the pack. Darien had made her life hell.
"Let's move on." The man gestured gracefully toward the back wall. "We have Japanese and Chinese swords, ninja tools and knives."
"Yes," she breathed out in relief. "I want the katana. I also want a set of sai, 18 inches, and a set of throwing knives. All wrapped in black leather, if you have it. No fancy stuff, just black."
"We have them."
He gestured to the end of the wall at a large locked cabinet. The glass doors were covered by metal bars. As they neared the case, Lena felt it again, that tinge of anger and frustration tainting the air around her.
"Someone is waiting for you." The young man spoke softly.
She started, jerking away from him. He could sense what she was sensing. "Yes." She shuddered. "It appears so."
"Well, then, let's move along." He pulled a set of keys from his pants pocket. Lena's powerful hearing noted more than five tumblers clicking over as he turned the key in the lock. Then he started with a second key.
"That's a lot of security you have there."
"You have no idea." For an instant he appeared much older than she'd first thought. She blinked and he resumed his work with the locks.
A moment later he handed her a set of sai. The long daggers sported three wickedly sharp points. Their hilts were bound in black leather, and the metal of the blades gleamed dully.
"True steel, not chrome."
"Perfect. I need them to hold an edge, not look fancy."
"Yes. But because a weapon should not be merely utilitarian, they've been adorned with dragons. See the etchings?"
As Lena examined the fine detail carved into the metal, the shopkeeper pulled out a fine set of throwing knives. With narrow steel blades that matched the sai in quality, they too had hilts wrapped in black leather. Black stain highlighted the dragons carved deeply along the length of each knife. Lena admired them each in turn. This was the level of workmanship she'd hoped for, modern, for certain, but with quality and strength in each detail.
Lastly, the shopkeeper handed her the sword. She withdrew it fully from the sheath. The weight balanced from tip to hilt perfectly in her hand. There were no etchings or carvings. Its simple grace brought a grin to Lena's face.
"No decoration?" She couldn't tear her eyes from the sword to look at the shopkeeper.
"No, but it has a name. You would call it Dark Harmony."
"Indeed I would." She looked at him and sighed. "So what's this going to cost me?"
Now he grinned, showing plenty of teeth. "I'm sure we can reach an agreement. We have some things in common, I think." His smile faded. "But be careful. The one who waits and watches has gone past the point of sanity. He'll only accept death as the end to your bond."
Dark Harmony: Chapter Thirteen
Lena exited from the doorway of New Hope. No further outbursts had interrupted her time there, but she felt eyes upon her as she left the building. She waited for something to happen. Nothing. A soft breeze caressed her face. She breathed deep and caught a hint of cloves. Lena shuddered, the aroma drawing memories of Darien.
The scent was faint. If he'd been here, he was gone now. She straightened her shoulders. She'd picked up some light exercise clothes and simply ditched her old ones, underwear included. A sport bag and a black windbreaker now concealed her new purchases, the sword and sai in the bag and the knives strapped against her ribs. Now she would have a fighting chance, literally, against Darien.
Moving steadily, she soon passed the point where people still walked the streets. Everything around her was quiet. Even the warm summer air barely stirred. Now she picked up speed and found her pace. At just past three o'clock, she reached Richard's neighborhood. She slowed. The quietness of the empty street with its flickering streetlights made her all too aware of the harsh sound of her breathing.
She shouldn't come back here, not with someone chasing her. She knew that. Yet here she was. Just as before, she found herself drawn toward Richard. He's a powerful man. He was the head of a family and a potently sexual being. Her vampire psyche simply saw another pack leader. The vampire in her wanted a pack, not a man and his daughter. They weren't the same.
Rationalizing wasn't helping. She wanted the man, damn it. She needed a distraction. Shelter. She would look for a place to stay, despite the fact that she should be far from here before dawn. Not knowing the area stood as a giant hurdle against her chances of finding someplace safe. She walked through the silent streets, considering her choices.
Near the opposite edge of the town she found a possible solution. A small industrial building sat like a wart at the end of a side street. All alone, its square shape and decaying brick walls shouted "abandoned." Foreclosure notices were posted on the door. The place had been shut for nearly a year. A second notice informed her that trespassers wouldn't be tolerated and that the building was slated for demolition, but not for another six months.
Lena paced to the edge of the building and looked over an empty parking lot. No emotions floated on the air. She stood alone, perhaps the only person moving within a block or two. A shadow on the side of the building was clearly a door. To any passers-by it would be practically invisible, even in daylight.
She slipped silently to the doorway and in one burst of strength wrenched the lock open. Stale air greeted her delicate sense of smell. Rats, or possibly an opossum with a litter lived inside. That wasn't the best news. It meant there was another way in. Fixtures on the ceiling had been wrenched down, and cracks ran the length of the walls. Small pieces of paper littered the floor.
Making her way to the basement took some time. Discovering an abandoned industrial freezer unit took more, but the worst part was deciding it was the only truly safe place inside the building from the coming sunlight. Only a vampire would possess the strength to open the freezer door once she forced it shut. But it was small, oppressively so. She shuddered. Darien or Evan could easily turn this bolt-hole into a trap. Sleeping in the forest in the dirt began to look more appealing.
On the other hand, this place could be a very good trap, or at least a distraction. She grinned as the thought branched into an idea. If no one was following her, this wouldn't matter. If someone was, this might be a great distraction for them. She brought her wrist to her lips. A quick nip brought a tiny drop of her blood to the surface. She shook it from her skin onto the floor of the freezer, and then exited. She threw some empty wooden packing boxes inside to create a pile near the back corner. To a quick observer, she could easily be hiding in the back of the freezer.
Now for the tricky part. A further search of the basement yielded a large stiff spring from a neglected storeroom. She returned to the freezer and compressed the spring into the corner of the wall beside the freezer. If anyone entered the freezer, the door would bounce back against the spring and shut the person inside. She wrenched the handle into position. Once the door shut completely, the lock would engage. With a silent snicker she turned and left her trap open and waiting.
Before she left the building she reached as far as she could, searching with her mind for any sense that she might be followed. There was none. With no other ideas on where to sleep, she traced the path back toward Richard's woods once again.
Lena stopped at the edge of Richard's property. Her feet seemed to have found their own way here. The household slept peacefully, or so it seemed. She slipped to the back of the house and once again into the quiet woods. She'd never touched anyone's mind for more than a moment if they were sleeping. Now she checked the sleepers carefully, running psychic fingers across their dreams.
Richard's mother slept deeply, past the point where dreams intruded on her slumber. Lena refocused, although she realized with a start that she'd gleaned a name from the woman. Sandra. Lena's heart pounded. This had never happened before. She'd only experienced emotion in her psychic explorations. Never thoughts, although on rare occasions she'd been able to unlock reasons for feelings if they were palpably linked to the emotion.
"Sandra." She whispered the name into the shadows.
Amazing. Lena reached for the child. Anna. Her dreams were clear, fantastic in their clarity and strangeness. Lena swayed on her feet, vertigo surging through her body as the child flew over grassy plains, dragging Lena with her. Lena pulled herself from the dream. She swallowed bile, or what passed for it in a vampire. She'd never touched on anything like this before. Not only was the image there, but the feeling, the joy, the excitement of the child in her dream.
Lena reached for a tree trunk for balance. Perhaps it was the very tree she'd gripped last night. What was happening to her? She had no one to discuss it with. Never wanting to be able to do more than stun or control a potential victim, Darien had dismissed her psychic claims. His second, the pack's bloodhound Evan, had shown more interest in her ability to feed from emotion, but eventually followed Darien's example. Now, more than ever, Lena wished for someone to talk to.
Her eyes drifted back to the dark house. Richard lay dreaming in there, too. Did he dream of her? Like a junkie, the temptation lured her. If she could taste his dreams, she would know him, perhaps better than he knew himself.
Her fangs extended from their sheaths. She bit her lip and tasted blood. Lena's nerves, already stretched thin, zinged in terror. Was she losing control of herself? She'd nearly invaded Richard's most private unguarded part of his psyche. Her mouth curled in disgust. She was nothing better than a peeping Tom. Her presence placed Richard and his family in danger, and now she would steal his dreams, as well?
She backed away from the house deeper into the woods. The ground lay sodden under her feet, the result of a recent shower. The night should have been beautiful. Late summer night air thick with moisture and the scent of the forest all around her. Soft ferns touched her calves with their feathered tips. Instead, she stared at a home that could never be hers, yearned for a family she could never be a part of, and walked armed though the darkness. The loneliness tore at her.
Lena turned away to run, to leave and never to return. But a shrill scream cut through the air. In one slick motion she dropped her bag of weapons, drew two throwing knives from their sheaths at her waist, and darted toward Richard's home.
She was two short steps from flinging open the back door when she heard Anna's soft whimpers and Richard's gentle voice.
"It's okay, pumpkin. It was only a dream."
"No, no! He was here."
"Shh, baby." Richard soothed his daughter. Lena could hear the soft rustle of their bedclothes. It made the note of terror in Anna's voice all the more potent.
"He's going to hurt us," Anna wailed.
"Sweetie," Richard crooned, "no one will hurt you. You're safe here. I'm here."
Anna's crying eased. Lena felt the child release her fear in her father's presence. Envy stabbed Lena swiftly, gone as quickly as it arrived. If only it could be so easy.
"Shh. No more scary books for you, pumpkin. Now snuggle in beside me and go back to sleep. It's too early to be awake, even for you."
Lena sheathed her knives. Weariness dragged at her. She closed her eyes and bowed her head. Who could a vampire pray to? Give thanks to? She walked around to the side of the house. Richard's room would be here. She leaned against the smooth siding. The sun was getting closer. With heavy steps she returned to the woods to collect her bag. Sunrise would arrive in a little more than an hour. Whether she wanted to or not, it was time to go.
Lena caught the scent of cloves, blood and sex like a slap across her face.
Stunned, she stumbled backward. Darien. It was his scent. He'd been here, and in concentrating on the sleeping humans, she hadn't even felt him. Her body screamed, run! Her breath sounded loud in her ears, her heartbeat like a pounding drum. She scanned the still dark streets for any movement, but there was none. Darien was gone, but she knew without question, as she tasted his anger in the air once again, that he realized she'd been there, too.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Fourteen
Lena waited agonizing minutes in the shadow of the house. She needed to find shelter, but how could she leave Richard and his family vulnerable to Darien? There was nothing the vampire could do to the family during the day, but what about during these last few minutes? She wasn't even sure she could sense him anymore. Had he always been able to hide his presence, or had he only been blocked while she concentrated on the dreams?
In the end she had no choice. She clutched her kit-bag and satchel and ran, her eyes scanning the streets for any sign of Darien. This was cutting it too closely. She should have left the option open to use the industrial building instead of setting it up as a decoy.
There, an old house, not abandoned, but neglected. She concentrated on the emotional state of the people inside. An elderly person, female, slept deeply. This was chancy, but Lena dashed to the old garage in the backyard. The building's shabby exterior, along with the state of the yard, indicated that there wouldn't be any activity around the building during the day. It was either this or dig a hole in the dirt and bury herself alive.
She pried open the rusted door and squeezed inside past an aging lawnmower and various carpentry tools that had seen better days. At the very back of the building, a large lump lay against the length of the wall. Lena lifted the corner of a faded canvas tarp, and the lump revealed itself to be an overturned rowboat.
She lifted the edge of the boat. Its weight was reassuring. One human man alone couldn't lift this beast. She dropped her bags and nudged them under the bow. Then she crawled under the edge and flipped the tarp back down before she lowered the boat completely. The space felt cramped and smelled of mice and dust. But there was no chance of sunlight seeping in, and not much of a chance that someone would arrive tomorrow to take the old beast out for a row. She shifted, her motions restricted, until she could grip her sword and her knives. Then, finally, she laid her head on her satchel and closed her eyes.
For long moments before the sun rose, her mind revolved around and around. Darien was in the city. He'd followed her across an ocean, leaving his territory behind. How the hell had he followed her so far? It had to be the bond. As she'd described to Richard, when a vampire fed deeply from someone, it marked them. Her link to Darien was deeper still. As his co-leader she'd fed from him many times, as he'd fed from her.
Beyond all that, Darien had claimed her in ways he'd insisted would make the perfect bond. A soft whimper escaped from Lena's tightly pressed lips. She curled into a fetal position as memories pulled her back into Darien's painful embrace. He'd kissed her deeply after he'd tied her legs to the steel bar, forcing her to spread open to his hungry gaze. Her arms were already secured above her to the ceiling, forcing her to stretch up onto her toes to keep her balance. Her naked skin felt hot and feverish.
As his lips left hers, the torture began. His little whip flashed again and again against her thighs, her ass, and her pussy. She sobbed and tears flowed down her cheeks as the tiny flashes of pain grew worse with each flick of his whip.
He licked the moisture from her cheeks. He palmed her pussy, slid a finger inside, and stroked her clit. He brought her to the edge, rolling her tiny bud against his fingers. She shuddered and her nipples peaked hard under his piercing stare.
"Please," she begged. "Please, Darien." Pain was forgotten for a moment as he thrust two fingers deep inside her until she struggled in her bonds, not caring what she looked like to the watching pack. Her orgasm built, crested, and as she reached the peak, he whipped her again, this time drawing blood. She screamed in pain and in pleasure.
Lena thrashed wildly, trying to gain her balance as he worked his way behind her. She gasped in shock as he thrust the whip handle deep into her ass until the whip hung down like a tail. She tried to break free then, really tried to pull free of the chains, but there was no escape. He knelt before her and licked the blood flowing down her leg. Even as she screamed, "No," he bit into her thigh and drank deeply. The sucking drew her back into pleasure and her body betrayed her once again. She rocked her hips into him as another orgasm built inside her.
Inside the dusty shelter of the overturned boat, Lena whimpered again. The worst of it hadn't been the pain, although she never wanted to experience that again. It wasn't even the fact that she'd been humiliated in front of the pack, the very people she needed to lead on a daily basis. The worst was how much she'd wanted, even now, that feeling of surrender again, before the pain began. Her body betrayed her every time.
\*\*\*
Richard stared, but they didn't go away. The footprints he'd discovered early this morning remained pressed into the grass of his lawn. He licked his lips and swallowed hard. They were at least as large as the ones his own shoes tracked across the lawn. There were two sets of prints, standing side by side as if two men had spied on his home in the night.
"Daddy, come on. I'm going to be late for gymnastics." Anna popped her head out of the SUV's window. "Whatcha lookin' at?"
"Nothing, pumpkin. Let's go." He turned away from the evidence in the grass. He wouldn't interrupt their Saturday plans, but he wouldn't forget what he'd seen. Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps.
"So what are we doing today?" He turned the key in the ignition.
"After practice, I want to go to the movies, please." She played with the edge of her bright pink, frilled gymnastics suit. "I want to see Night Crawlers."
"Hmmm. That sounds a bit ominous. Is it scary?" Richard's eyes were on the road, but he glanced at his daughter long enough to know he wouldn't like the answer.
"Well, it is scary. But not too scary, you know?" She grabbed her kitbag from the SUV's floor.
"What's it about, baby?" He rounded the corner of the street and headed for the gymnasium two blocks down the tree-lined avenue.
"Vampires. They attack a town and take over, and the kids have to save everyone...." Her voice continued, but Richard wasn't catching the words. When had Anna become so interested in vampires, for God's sake?
"I don't think so, Anna. Not after your nightmare last night." He interrupted her recap of the story. "Sounds a bit old for you and a bit gruesome for me."
"But, Daddy, everyone's going." She crossed her arms.
"Why do you like the scary stuff all of a sudden, baby?"
"I'm not a baby. And everyone at school likes Black Legends books now. And everyone is going to go see Night Crawler this weekend." Now she pouted.
"Anna, I doubt everyone is going to see this movie. It's too old for you. And I think those books are, too. Look at what happened last night. Dreams like that mean you are thinking about scary stuff a little too much." He pulled into a parking spot a row away from the gymnasium door.
He reached out and stroked his daughter's hair. "I think we can find something a lot more fun to watch than that, and I bet a lot of your friends do the same thing." He pointed out the window, "There's Terri. Let's ask her and her mom what they're doing this weekend. Maybe they'd like to go and see a fun show with us."
Anna's face brightened as she spotted her friend. "Okay." She popped the lock on her seatbelt and opened the door. She looked back with a big grin on her face. "Love you Daddy!"
Richard smiled while he picked up Anna's kitbag and followed his daughter into the gym.
"Hi, Dianne." He greeted Terri's mother. "How are you?" The two walked into the building together while the girls dashed into the main gymnasium to meet their friends.
"Oh, good. Tired, but good. Kevin's got a big concert planned tonight at the Square. Are you going?" She hefted Terri's kit bag, similar to Anna's, onto her back.
"Don't know. I can always use more material for the magazine, but I just got home. Maybe I'll take the girls to a movie or something."
"That sounds great, but not that horrible Night Crawlers movie." They climbed up to the viewing area. Big glass windows gave an excellent view of the gymnasts as they practiced, but the separate room provided seating space and quiet for the watching parents.
"You, too, huh?" He slung Anna's bag over the edge of a chair. "I get home and she's reading Black Legends. That's a little old for them, isn't it?"
"Who knows? Vampires are the new big thing. Last week it was fairies and unicorns. This week is vampires, ghosts and ghouls. It'll pass."
Reassured, Richard sat and watched Anna step daintily across the balance beam. It will pass.
\*\*\*
Richard removed the pan of chicken pieces from the oven. When he was home, he liked to cook. His mother sipped wine and read a magazine at the kitchen table. Anna was playing on the computer, Terri having gone home earlier.
The scent of the meal and the homey sounds of his family seemed so normal. It would be so easy to forget the events of the past few days, but night was coming. He glanced out the window at the space the footprints had occupied that morning. There was no way he was leaving his family tonight for any reason. Certainly not for another concert.
"Everything okay, hon?"
His mother watched him from the table. He realized he was clutching a kitchen knife and set it down on the counter.
"Everything's fine."
"Hmm. I don't think so. You've been off since you got home. And don't think I didn't notice you slipping off to the woods the other night." She dropped the magazine on the table and uncrossed her legs.
"I'm just tired, Mom."
"When you're ready to tell me why you've been creeping around and clutching knives, let me know."
"It's just, well, I saw some things on this last trip. I'm a bit afraid they may have come home with me."
He opened his mouth to say more, to tell her that the world had changed, but Anna dashed into the room.
"Daddy, Grammie, I made it to the last level! Come and see." She tugged her grandmother toward the door. Richard's mom looked at him with concern in her eyes, but she shrugged as she yielded to Anna.
Richard shook his head. What would he have said to his mother, anyway? She would never believe he'd seen a vampire. No, make that two vampires. Could he confess that his family might be in danger because he'd had an affair with one of them?
Hardly. But he looked through the window and noted the dropping sun. Then he left the kitchen to walk through the house, checking doors and windows, locking up.
\*\*\*
She wasn't alone. Soft sounds rustled in the night, close to her, too close. Barely moving, she made the tiny adjustment that allowed her to grip her sword. Her eyes opened to darkness. Then she breathed in and registered the musty aroma surrounding her. Only mice. Her head lolled back in relief and the tension flowed from her body as she recalled where she'd hidden the night before. The risk had paid off. She and the mice remained undisturbed.
For a moment she lay there and held the long sword, the solid feeling in her hand as reassuring as anything could be in this situation. She was alone, and Darien had followed her all the way across the ocean, probably leaving the pack to hold his territory. He would never take such a risk unless he intended to end things with her, one way or the other. He would break her and take her back, or he would kill her.
She could keep running until he was forced to return or lose his place as alpha. But there was a long lifespan ahead of them both, and Darien wasn't the sort to forgive. Even worse than that, could she live with abandoning Richard and his family to face Darien alone? Would she want to live with herself after that?
No.
Lena lifted the old boat and slid her gear out before crawling out from its shelter. She stood and brushed off the dust and cobwebs. There was no time for fresh clothing. What she'd picked up at New Hope would have to do. She slid her katana into its sheath as she sent her psychic fingers out to check for the presence of anyone close by. Aside from the old lady living her quiet solitary life in the house, the nearby area lay deserted.
Under the cover of the shadows, Lena made for Richard's home. She kept her senses fully open despite the distraction from the flickering awareness of others in the homes around her. If there was any chance that she could pick up on Darien before he became aware of her, well, surprise could be an advantage, and she would need every bit of help she could get.
The roads and surrounding homes were becoming familiar. The little town snuggled against the landscape like a warm blanket, the family houses and fenced yards full of play equipment and pools. Richard had chosen well, just an hour or so outside of New York. His daughter would be happy here, and it seemed nice. But it would become terrifying if Darien were to make it his new home. Lena picked up her pace.
Reaching the street next to Richard's, she took shelter in the shadow of a large elm tree. She could sense only human life, and no great influx of emotion in that. She searched for fear, in case Darien fed before he approached her or attacked Richard. There was nothing except a surge in excitement from a bus stop at the corner.
A small group of teens waited for the bus in the light of the streetlamp. They discussed a concert that they were attending that night. Lena dismissed them and moved on. At each corner she checked with all her senses. Still there was no sign of the vampire she'd come to hate. Where was he?
She crept from behind the house next to Richard's into the woods behind his home. Everything seemed okay inside the house. No emotional overflow extended into the ether. But she could feel Richard's tension. He seemed to be anxious. Lena chewed at her lower lip as she considered what this might mean.
"God, I wish I could read minds." The sound of her voice made her gulp, so loud was it in the empty woods. She knelt among the twigs and bushes to hide and set her bag of weapons beside her. The weight of the long sword at her back rubbed at her. She hadn't worn one nonstop for over a year. After all, she'd almost thought herself safe.
Movement caught her eye. She could see him at the window, staring out into the woods. She waved before she could think too hard about what she was doing. He caught the motion and trained his eyes directly at her. She beckoned him. He stepped away from the window before she could decide just what the expression on his face represented.
Inside the house, Richard gathered the garbage from the kitchen wastebasket and stepped toward the back door.
"Daddy, we're gonna start the movie without you!"
"Be back in a minute, baby, I'm taking out the garbage. Go ahead and start the tape. You can watch the cartoon first." He reached for the door handle, but paused in the motion. He'd seen Lena. He was certain it was her, but was she alone? The fact that he felt he could trust her, well, that feeling might be an illusion. He set the garbage bag on the floor and ran a hand through his hair. Shit.
He pivoted on one foot and opened one of the kitchen drawers as silently as he could. From inside he grabbed a knife in a leather sheath. He snapped the guard open and fit the blade in its sheath into his back pocket. It had been a long time since he'd considered violence. He licked his lips. In college he'd been considered a damn good brawler, but he'd never used a weapon. In the club pain was kept to the minimum it would take to bring pleasure to the sub. He grabbed the garbage bag and opened the door to the cool night air.
He scanned the yard. He quickly strode to the garbage container stood at the edge of the driveway and disposed of the bag and freed his hands. In that minute, while his back was turned to the woods, the sensation of being watched made his heart pound. Dropping the lid as quietly as possible, he faced the trees, his eyes flicking across the grass and into every dark corner he could penetrate.
"Richard." His name floated in a whisper to him. He swallowed hard and shifted into the shadows laced between the trees.
"Lena?" He called her name softly.
She stood only feet from where he'd entered the woods. "Hello," she whispered as their eyes met. In that instant he realized she might want him as much as he wanted her.
He reached for her but her eyes left his and scanned the area, never stopping. The moment snapped like a twig underfoot.
"Darien is here. I smelled him last night right outside your house. He's looking for me."
"Can you run?"
"Yes." Her dark eyes stopped their roving and settled on his. "But if I do, he might kill you and your family in frustration, if nothing else."
"God." He looked at his house with the warm light streaming from the windows into the darkness. "There were two sets of footprints in the grass this morning."
She sucked in a breath. "Two? Oh, shit! He must have brought Evan." She sagged against a sturdy birch. "I thought it would be just him."
"Who's Evan?" Richard grabbed her shoulder. She looked so disheartened, he wanted desperately to take her into his arms and hold her. Instead, he shook her slightly. "Calm down. We've got to figure this out."
"I can't kill two of them! Oh, God!" She threw back her head, her mouth twisting. She blinked rapidly as though she was close to tears.
"Do you think we have to kill them? Can't we warn them off or drive them away?" He used the word we and meant it. If anyone was here to hurt his family, he was going to stop them. If it meant that he could help the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, let alone kissed, well, that was even better.
"Yes, we have to kill them." She said it so miserably, there was no doubt she didn't believe it could be done. Shit. "Evan is a bloodhound. He can home in on a particular person's scent and never let them go. If Darien brought him, then he's decided he's had enough. And Darien doesn't leave loose ends."
"Where are they now?" Richard let her go and scanned the woods, but there was no chance he would be able to spot anyone in the darkness.
"I don't know. I expected they would head here, that they would pick up the scent of what we did the other night and know...." She licked her lips.
He looked back at her, immediately picturing how they must have looked that night, bare skin glowing against the dark ground of the forest.
"Know what?" He couldn't stop it. He shifted closer to her, felt the sensual pull of her desire. It simmered under her skin, just as hot as his own need.
"Know I'm bonding with you." She stared at him. Her face was perfect, her lips full and wet from her tongue. He tilted his head to lower his mouth to hers.
She shook her head and backed away from the tree she'd been leaning against.
"Don't start that. Where could they be? They know where you are and that I'm likely to come here. They might not be sure, though." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I haven't had sex with a human without draining them dry in twenty-five years. Not 'til now. They might not be sure that I'm not planning on running." She paced, short strides in the tight quarters of the trees. Richard said nothing, letting her work out her thoughts aloud.
"They'd want to feed, to gorge until they were at full strength before they attack." She pursed her lips and slid a hand along her back under her jacket in a strange move that he hadn't seen from her before. His eyebrows lifted in surprise. She was packing.
"Do you have a gun?"
"What? No," she patted her shoulder. "It's a sword. It's easier to kill vampires that way. Guns just make us mad." She resumed her pacing. "They'd want lots of people, hundreds, packed close together. Not a bar, something bigger where they could hunt easily and take multiple kills. Someplace filled with young people, those most vulnerable to emotion, lust. And live music, something strong and moving. Whether Darien believes it or not, music opens the human soul with emotion to the vampire, provides the most satisfying nourishment."
"A concert. There's a big one at Madison Square tonight. The place will be packed with teens." His voice sounded rusty. "How many--" He cleared his throat. She was watching him. "How many would they kill?"
"They'll take four or five each, then sleep it off. Then they'll come tomorrow night." She stopped and looked at him. "Can you leave? Take your daughter and mother and leave here? Never come back?"
"No." He raised his hands as she shook her head and opened her mouth to protest. "No, but I can take them away for a little while to my brother-in-law's house. It's in-"
"Good." She interrupted him. "Don't tell me where. I shouldn't know, in case...." She pressed her lips tightly together. "You have tonight, I'm betting, and tomorrow to go as far away as you can." She walked to the bushes at the edge of the woods and grabbed her bags.
"What about you?" She turned and he was right there, beside her. "What are you going to do?"
She licked her lips again and swallowed hard. "I'm going to stop them. Or try to."
"By yourself."
"Yes."
"Are you crazy? You've told me that they want you back, but that they might kill you. I can see you don't want to be anywhere near them. Near him." He wrapped his arms around her and she dropped her bags. "I can tell he hurt you. In lots of ways." His head throbbed in suppressed anger, but she could feel it and it warmed her soul.
She leaned in to him, rested her face against the soft cotton covering his chest. "Yes, he did. And no, I don't want to be anywhere they are. But if I don't, more people will die. And you, you and your family--" She couldn't say it. Couldn't voice the terrible things she could imagine Darien doing to his mother or his little girl. She raised her hands to stroke his back. When had this man come to mean so much to her? It was far more than lust, more than desire to belong. There was respect mingled into the mix of her emotions now, and other things she didn't have the time to ponder.
"I could get a ticket," he said. "I know someone who would let me in."
"You can't come. You need to get your family out of here. You know that."
He placed his hand under her chin and lifted her mouth to fit to his. He kissed her slowly, passionately telling her with his lips what he couldn't say aloud. He needed her. When the kiss ended, he backed away.
"Thank you." His throat tightened over the words. "Be careful."
She slid her hand under her jacket. In a liquid motion she drew her sword. "I plan on being very careful."
"My God, you're beautiful." He wanted to touch her and then strip her naked so he could see how her nipples would peak while she held the deadly blade. Sick. I'm really sick.
She laughed, low and throaty. She could sense his lust, but also his understanding that she would do what she must. The most amazing thing was his desire to protect her. It ran as strongly through his psyche as his desire to protect his family.
"Wait till you see all my other toys." She returned the sword to its sheath and bent to unzip her kit-bag. She quickly withdrew her knives. She strapped the sai across her chest and secured knives in sheaths at each wrist.
"They have metal detectors at the gate."
"Doesn't matter. I won't go in that way." She looked up at him and grimaced. "Darien and Evan won't, either. They'll go in the back because they'll be looking for a place to stash victims."
\*\*\*
"Fuck." Richard watched Lena's shadow moving deeper into the woods behind his home. He couldn't let her do it. He couldn't let her go on her own to face two killers. She wouldn't just need to fight them physically, either. She'd need to fight off her ex's power over her. As her master he could have warped her reactions to him in a number of ways. She'd need to fight that, not to mention any vampire shit that would be involved.
He took a deep gulp of air. Tension gripped his entire body. By rights he should be moving his family out to John's home tonight. But the urge to protect Lena was too strong to ignore. She doesn't need you. She's a vampire. And you, what can you do? He shook his head. He had to try to help.
In the house he almost ran into his mother at the back door. She stared at him, her lips pressed tightly together.
"I'm going to have to go out," he told her.
"Why? Where are you going?" She reached out to touch his shoulder, concern written over her features.
"A friend needs me." He rubbed a hand over his jaw. "Remember I said there might be trouble? Well, there is. I need you to pack a bag for the three of us to visit John tomorrow at his farm, okay?"
"But--"
"I'm really sorry, Mom, but I can't explain right now. Can you please help?"
"Yes, of course."
"Thanks," he interrupted her again. "I've got to tell Anna I have to go out. I will explain, but later, okay?" He gave her a quick hug.
As he strode toward the living room he checked the knife in his pocket. For the first time in his life, he wished desperately that he owned a gun. Anna sat on the floor, her slim body bathed in the glow of the television.
"Anna," he called to her.
"Hey, you almost missed the whole beginning," she accused him quickly before looking back at the screen.
"I'm afraid I am going to miss the middle and the end, too, pumpkin." He reached down to ruffle her hair. "I'm sorry, but I have to go out."
"Now?" She pouted but he could see her eyes tracking the screen behind him.
"Yes, sorry. I'll have to watch this one later. Be good for Gram, okay?"
"Okay." She stood up and hugged him. "Where are you going?"
"To a concert."
Dark Harmony: Chapter Fifteen
Getting in was easy. It was getting out that worried Lena as she crept through the cramped backstage hallway. She'd barely put any psychic pressure on the man at the back door before he let her in. The crowd roared at the front of the auditorium. She could practically taste their excitement and as their blood pulsed with frenzied beats through their veins.
She couldn't open her senses enough to locate Darien or Evan. The audience deafened her past the point where she could find an individual presence. They were here, though. Every vampire in a hundred miles was probably here. The concert laid a buffet for every taste, young, fresh victims for the blood drinkers, and rivers of emotion for the psychic vampires like her, if there were any others like her.
She couldn't draw her sword. There were too many witnesses in the area. She forced their attention away from her, misdirecting them with mild pulses of distasteful emotion. Even so, it was doubtful she could hide a long sword should she need to use it. Instead, she loosened the straps of her sai and dropped them into her hands with the blades tucked up lengthwise against each forearm. Better that she be a bit weighed down than unable to reach a weapon when she needed it.
She was closing in on the stage. Handlers moved through the tight space of the corridor. She caught a few odd glances and opened her mind to allow the emotional current to flow inward. Strength rushed through her veins and she staggered, nearly falling to her knees. One sai hung loosely in her grip. Since she'd developed her psychic abilities, she'd never been in a place with this many people. All those hearts pounding with need and excitement, it overwhelmed her.
Her nerves buzzed with the power of the emotions pounding at her through the small channel she'd opened to the flow. Her skin flushed from her cheeks down her neck and across her breasts. Those waves pounded against her in ways she hadn't imagined. They pressed against the tight buds of her nipples and lapped at the sweet heat of her sexual core.
"Miss?" Someone touched her shoulder.
Lena's eyes snapped open. With a mental shove she sent the young man reeling away. She shuddered. The power burned like fingers stroking her desire. The floor swayed as she walked away from the scene. Her body tingled and the hair on her arms stood on end. She was juiced, but was it more than she could handle? Now she had the strength to face Darien, but the sexual throbbing throughout her body could be a deadly distraction.
She walked along the edge of the hallway, her elbow brushing the wall to aid her balance. The floor steadied under her feet. When she came to a door, she could feel the concert raging just on the other side. With a deep breath and one quick shove of her shoulder, the door opened to chaos.
A bouncer stood by the door but she dulled his mind, finding her power strong enough for once to advance beyond changing a mood to changing an action. She waded into the sea of people. She didn't need to hide. Their eyes and concentration were fastened on the performers on the stage above them.
The lead guitarist grabbed his axe and sent a scream of sound out into the audience. It resonated with their cheers, fought for dominance, and won. Drums pounded out a sexual rhythm and the singer stepped up to his mike. The audience screamed along with his lyrics.
A wave of emotion thundered through Lena. She moaned with it, fought to maintain control and not surrender to the lure of the power sweeping through her. If she gave in, she wasn't sure what would happen. Perhaps she would be unable to control the amount she absorbed and she would be washed under the flow, drown in it. She clenched her jaw in frustration, her fangs pressing tight against their sheaths. Concentrate!
Darien and Evan wouldn't be too near the stage. They would be deeper in the crowd, far from any possible video surveillance. They would be culling victims one at a time, sexually enthralling them with pheromones and leading them to a private place. At least, that was probably how it would start. As they took in more blood, they'd get cocky. Perhaps even now they would be clasping some innocent in a deadly embrace in the midst of the crowd, not caring who saw them.
The audience was on its feet. She couldn't see too much. The constant movement distracted her eyes. Equally she couldn't pick out Darien or Evan's scent. There were a thousand odors, some deliciously tinged with blood and adrenaline, some tainted with sweat, smoke and stale alcohol. Even with the flood of power sluicing through the tight opening in her mind, she felt overwhelmed. How would she find them?
In the end, they found her.
She'd reached the middle of the crowd, wandered without direction as she searched for them. The concert raged like a storm around her, the band's manic energy whipping the people in the stands into an ecstatic response. They screamed and Lena pulsed from her burning cheeks to her tingling toes. The power gradually desensitized her to the reactions around her. Her fangs distended fully, but she had no desire for blood. Instead the need for physical contact, for sex, grew inside her. It was like a drug in her system, overpowering her judgment. The music pounded on, the brief moments between songs barely enough for her to catch her breath and move on.
A strange mix of projected emotion, joy and hatred and a dark hunger, were her only warning as they flanked her. Evan approached from the front, catching her gaze as he came near. As ever, he wore the color of night, his tight clothes flaunting a body that people could die for, and regularly did.
She focused on his powerful emotions even as a part of her screamed to watch out. Darien would surely be nearby. Evan, for a moment, wavered between elation and anger. She couldn't get a sense of why, and in her intoxicated state of flowing power and engulfing desire she couldn't bring herself to care.
His body screamed for sex right now. Never mind where they were, or what she'd come for, or who she'd left behind. Her body wanted this. Despite the press of the audience, she could pick out his scent now, strong, male, and musky. He licked his lips and she parted hers in response, her pussy growing damp. Still she hesitated, like a deer caught in headlights as she gazed at him. Something is wrong! This is wrong.
Absently she released her right sai and let it slide back into its sheath. Her now-empty hand sought her breasts, and she moaned softly as her questing fingers pinched the tight buds of her nipples. She took a step toward Evan, once her favorite lover despite the fact that he had joined Darien in tormenting her whenever Darien had asked. He never really hurt you. But part of her still shrieked, Run!
In her arousal, she could sense Evan's emotions shift deeper into anger. His eyes flickered slightly to his right. This tiny movement freed her from the sexual thrall. She gasped and jerked backward, flicking her sai back into her hand. My God! She'd nearly given herself back to the pack.
Wherever Evan walked, Darien would surely be skulking nearby. For a desperate moment she feared being outnumbered. Here among thousands of potential victims, the prey were unlimited, but it was the hunters whose numbers terrified her.
She took two quick sideways steps to the right, away from Evan's range. She flicked one sai out to point at Evan and left the other to guard herself. Her best bet would be to put Evan between her and the second opponent. She scanned the crowd. Amidst the constant movement of the audience, she caught the stalking advance of a killer. Darien. Her worst fear confirmed, she shuddered at the smile on Darien's lips. Having caught her eye, he stayed where he was, one arm looped over the shoulders of a young female fan.
The girl, no more than twenty, pressed her body against the vampire. Her eyes followed the motions of the band on stage. Her lips mouthed the lyrics even as she ground her hips against a monster. Darien fisted his hand in her long straight hair, lifting her chin and exposing her neck. The girl gripped him harder, elation filling her face. Lena could taste it from where she stood, a stream of sweet rapture. She was so young, so pure, so delicious. Lena took an involuntary step forward. Evan, slightly to her right, grinned like the cocky bastard he was and intercepted her, offering his hand to her.
"Come on, Helena. Join us for a bite." Darien's mocking whisper reached her easily despite the pounding music and screaming fans.
"No."
"You know you want to. She's so sweet." Darien wrenched the girl around, dragging her body across his and exposing the opposite side of her neck. Two thin streams of blood dripped from her throat, proof he'd already tasted her. Lena's mouth watered. The copper scent of blood mixed with the honeyed taste of emotion flowing freely from the girl's excitement. The girl was ready, hot, and so needy that she ground herself helplessly against Darien. Lena could imagine the hot taste of her blood, of swallowing the girl's life in a mouth-watering gulp while Darien fucked her. They'd done it before, taking turns, so many times, so many delicious deaths.
For one fleeting moment she felt the desire, not so much for blood, as she was more than sated with the power around her, but to join them. To no longer be alone, to once again be part of the pack.
Darien seemed to sense her longing. "I still want you, Helena. You can still come home."
The girl in his arms chose that moment to struggle. Whether she'd suddenly realized that Darien was talking to another woman, or whether her weak self-protective instincts had finally kicked in, she squirmed in his grasp. He looked away from Lena and down at his prey. He snarled, and seeing his fangs, the girl screamed, long and shrill against the resonating bass solo from the stage. He thrust her to her knees and fisted her hair, a humiliating pose Lena was all too familiar with.
Next would come the pain and blood. So much blood.
"No!" Lena shouted and jumped toward them, intent on stopping yet another death. She wanted the blood, wanted the sex, but it didn't have to be this way. Evan grabbed her arm and twisted her close to him.
"You can't stop it, Helena. It's in our nature to feed and to kill."
Lena stabbed at Evan's side with her extended sai. But the chance to save the girl had already passed. Darien's long fangs ripped open the girl's throat in an unnecessary violent movement, bathing both of them in bright red blood. Her struggles ceased, her screams cut down to wet gurgles as she died at his feet.
The crowd around them finally reacted. People scrambled to get away from the gory scene unfolding in their midst. The scent of blood and death rippled as thick as fog in the air. Lena snarled. This was what she'd run from. Darien would never believe her explanation on how to feed from emotion and on why they didn't need to kill. And whether he knew it or not, he fed from the girl's death, the strongest psychic sensation he could wrench from a single person. She wouldn't feed from that, not even from the dregs of it.
"It doesn't have to be this way," she pleaded with Evan, dropping her sai in her desperation to reach him. She grabbed his wrist, removing his hand from her shoulder and shaking it. "I can show you a better way."
He looked at her, his eyes shadowed. "Different, I'm sure. But better? Better than this?" His voice resonated with cynicism. "Look at him. Look at his power. We can't stop him anyway." He pulled loose and walked toward Darien, who even now stood over the lifeless girl on the dirty auditorium floor.
He wanted more. Lena could sense it. Darien scanned the crowd. They were still fighting to escape the area, but there were too many people. They were trapped, no one able to move far enough away, despite the growing awareness of the slaughtered girl. Darien stared at one of them, a young man in a faded jean jacket. The boy stilled, and then stepped closer. His friends yelled at him and grabbed at him as he walked toward his death.
He was handsome and young, and with her vampiric sight she could see in the dim light the distinctive bulge in his pants. He wanted Darien. Enticement poured from the vampire, and the boy responded to it. Darien's scent, the strong spicy aroma of vampire pheromones, chased away the scent of blood. Darien could draw this boy to him and make the teen want him even while he was covered in gore from the last brutal murder.
She couldn't reach her sword or use her knives in time. Desperate, Lena screamed out her frustration. Her psychic abilities, flooded with power, blasted the boy and the crowd around him with a psychic echo of her scream, breaking Darien's hold and flooding the area with fear. People all around her screamed with her and ran. It was chaos. Hundreds of people now pushed to get away.
Evan gasped in shock, his eyes wide with surprise. Darien whipped around toward her, his face a mask of fury. He raised his hands and lunged toward her. With a sudden crack, his body jerked backward and smashed into the ground near the body of the young woman he'd consumed. A second shot rang out, and a third, both making contact with the downed vampire. Before Lena or Evan could move, a fourth explosion tore through the air and Evan jerked back with an impact to his shoulder.
As one they dropped to a crouch on the floor. Evan's head turned back and forth as he scanned the crowd. Blood stained his shirt a darker shade of black. He grabbed Lena's hand.
"What the hell was that? What did you do? Did you do this?" He hissed.
"No." Lena shook her head frantically. "I came alone."
"Get out of here." He shoved Lena with one arm and crept carefully toward Darien lying motionless on the floor.
"What happened?" Lena scrabbled for her dropped sai.
He pressed his lips into a thin line. "Darien's been shot, but you know that won't stop him for long." He stared into her eyes, seeming to measure her. "I don't know what you just did, or whether you're telling the truth about coming alone, but you'd better run if you want to live. He'll kill you now, no matter what you once were to him."
"And you?"
Evan stared at her as he stood over Darien's body. "You know I'll kill you if he orders it." He took a step toward her, his face grim. Anger burned within his eyes, the only spark of heat in his cold face. "I should hold you here for him. We could end this and go home. Or maybe I should just kill you now."
Dark Harmony: Chapter Sixteen
He means it. Evan would kill her if Darien told him to. His threat now was a way of delaying that moment. He didn't want to kill her, no matter what he said, but he would do it if ordered. If I strike now, while Darien is down, I would only have to fight Evan. But even with Evan injured, I would have to kill him to get to Darien.
Evan took another threatening step toward her, away from the body of his master. In the dark stadium, his fangs glinted with light from the stage.
No time to choose. The place was a madhouse. She didn't want to kill Evan, not if she didn't have to. She turned and joined the crowd, allowing them to pull her away from Evan. He wouldn't follow her. His duty was to protect his injured master, and he wouldn't leave Darien's side for the rest of the night.
Lena paced away from the chaos in the audience as quickly as she could without forcibly throwing people from her path. Evan was right. Darien would soon recover from being shot. In twenty-four hours his supernatural strength would heal his body during his daytime sleep. He could even eject the bullets back through the holes in his skin before the wounds closed. But healing would use much of the strength he had gained from the evening's binge, thank God.
She had the rest of the night to prepare. She needed a way to take Evan out of the picture without killing him. They would come tomorrow night to end this, despite the fact that Darien wouldn't be at full strength. Evan would be, though, and Darien in a full rage wouldn't wait to attack. She shuddered. The fury in his psyche bordered the line between those who were sane and those who were not.
Lena's mind raced as she forced her way through the doors to the street. The only place they were certain to attack would be Richard's home. It was doubtful they'd tracked her yet to any of the places she'd used for temporary shelter. Tonight with Darien comatose, the family would be safe. Richard would get his family out soon, taking them as far away as possible. That left her alone to face them. She had weapons, and training, but it was two against one.
A sudden hand on her shoulder made her shout. She whirled back toward the building and found herself facing the strange Asian shopkeeper from the New Hope Martial Arts shop. The faint tang of gunpowder tickled the back of her throat. Her eyes dropped to the distinctive form of a shoulder holster under his jacket.
"You're the shooter." She spoke too loudly, caught herself and checked the crowd. People were rushing away but the police were on their way.
"Yes. I cannot have my home ground hunted without retaliating. These children died needlessly tonight, as you know." He touched her wrist with his fingertips and motioned to the street with his chin.
Lena took the hint, sliding first her right sai and then her left back into their holding straps. She scanned the area cautiously before following him away from the stadium. Her mind raced, internal alarms reminding her of her mother's long-ago warning not to talk to strangers.
"You're not a vampire," she stated.
"No." A trace of humor laced his tone. "Nothing like that. Nothing like you."
She was silent as they strode away from the crowd, the shrill sound of approaching sirens sharp in her ears. "What are you then? And why did you help me? You could have killed us all, Evan, Darien, me. I can't feel your emotions, but tonight I can sense the power in you. Why warn Darien off?"
They had reached the corner of the block and turned away from the noise behind them. He stopped and carefully looked her over. "You're different, no longer what you were. The bloodhound back there could be like you. The leader will either return to his own territory, or he will die. I only give one warning. And this was it."
"What are you?" she asked again in a whisper. There was no emotion to read from this man. Thick shields covered his emotional state. He was completely dead to her senses except for the power flowing brightly from his core. He was the only man ever to appear to her this way. No touch of fear, hate, love or lust pulsed from his soul. Just strength. She wet her lips. The result was intensely attractive.
The streetlight shone into his face. She couldn't place his age or his exact race or national origin. He looked up into her eyes and she realized with distraction that he was shorter than her. More interesting were his eyes. No round pupils greeted her stare. His eyes, god, so beautiful, but not human. Slitted, like a snake's. She swallowed down her attraction, his power now more foreign than desirable.
"I am something else, youngling. Something you don't need to know about. You could call me Drake." He pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket, exposing a holstered gun. He drew one out and breathed. It lit instantly. She took a step back from him even as she finally sensed the tiniest thread of emotion. Amusement drifted from him like a tickle of smoke in the back of her throat.
"You're not a killer. Not anymore. I accept you on my home land. Jitsum me ayayo." He spoke ritually, and then smiled. "Your friends, not so much."
"Can you help me kill Darien?" She stumbled over the words, her mouth as dry as powdered chalk.
"No." He shook his head. "If he kills again in my territory, perhaps. But your problems are not mine. I simply appreciate the path you have discovered. I know you are having difficulties letting go of your pack, Lena." She took a second step back, a gasp on her lips.
"Your thoughts are clear. I cannot aid you, though I must protect my territory. You may find shelter at New Hope if you truly need it, but I expect you have somewhere more important to be right now."
"Richard."
"Just so. Good luck." He breathed out a plume of cigarette smoke, and vanished even before it dissipated from the air nearby.
What the hell was that? But he was right. I need to warn Richard. But damn, it would've been nice if Drake would just kill Darien. But for that to happen, Darien would have to kill again.
She clenched her jaw and jogged toward Richard's home. Drake was a puzzle for another day.
\*\*\*
Richard arrived downtown in time to see the panicked flood of people rushing from the concert. He slapped his hand against the cool concrete of the subway entrance near Times Square. Too late. His heart pounded. What the hell had happened in there? Was she dead? The fear became agony. Was she lying dead in there like Rhonda, her throat slashed open, her life's blood stolen?
He'd barely gotten to know her.
People milled about, uncertain what to do now that they had escaped from the building. It was hard to tell what they thought was going on, but fear lay like masks on every escapee's face. A glimpse of long black hair caught his eye. Lena! She's alive! Yes, it was her, slipping into the alley directly across the street from his location at the subway gate. She wasn't alone.
Richard stared hard at the man holding Lena's elbow. It wasn't the huge blonde from the bar in Ireland. Maybe this was the other, the second. Richard pressed his lips together. Had Lena mentioned if Evan was Asian? He couldn't remember. But she didn't look like she was being forced into the alley.
A thread of jealously wound around him, binding him in place. He breathed deeply and snapped free. Lena could be in danger. He strode toward the alley, but Lena was already parting from the man, striding down the sidewalk away from the chaos even as sirens drifted onto the night air.
From the shadow of the alley, a lit cigarette flared and a young man stepped from the shadows. Richard sucked in a breath as their eyes met. There was no way he couldn't see that Richard was staring directly at him. Richard groaned inwardly. Worse yet, this was a man he was certain he'd met at Menage.
A police car cruised down the street. It would soon be followed by others if the sirens were any indication. When Richard looked back, the man who'd met Lena in the alley was gone.
"Wonderful," he muttered. He took his cue and slipped away from the crowd as well, back to his SUV in the paid parking lot.
All Lena needs is another dom pushing her around right now. She'll be running from me for ever.
\*\*\*
Lena headed toward the outer edge of the city. No need to take a cab. The slower part of her trip, while she jogged in areas where she might be seen, gave her time to plan. She searched her mind for any advantage. In the past she'd been a late riser, not awakening as she did now as soon as the sun set. Perhaps Darien would remember this habit and hope to catch her emerging from her shelter early tomorrow night. Would he expect her to sleep at Richard's home?
Knowing Darien's suspicious nature, he wouldn't believe her trusting enough to sleep vulnerable under the watchful eyes of a human. He would expect her to have a home base somewhere. As she reached the edge of the city, she sped up and headed toward the abandoned building she'd visited only the night before.
She checked it carefully. They hadn't found it. They hadn't sprung her trap.
The cold streetlight spun shadows over the area. It was as close to Richard's home as any other safe area. How to make it even more logical and appealing to Darien and Evan? They already knew of her reluctance to sleep in the earth itself, something she'd disdained in her pack days. They would expect her to remain true to the little habits of her time with them, even though she'd changed in larger ways.
Scent. Evan often tracked by scent, and he would certainly be after hers. That was the basis for the trap inside, after all. She pressed her hand against the fence, then turned and rubbed the skin of both her palms over its harsh edges anywhere she might have crossed it if she'd been using the building for more than one night. She repeated the motions on the wall of the building and leaned against the doorway she'd entered before. With luck Evan would track her here and down into the booby-trapped freezer. With him out of the way, she could deal with Darien alone.
Biting at the edge of her lower lip, she straightened her shoulders. There was nothing further she could do here. It was getting late, only a few hours until she would be forced to rest. She ran toward Richard's home, her feet flying as quickly as she dared. What if she kept running, away from New York, from Darien, from Richard?
But sooner or later she had to face Darien, and it had become necessary that it be sooner. That it be now. Richard didn't deserve to be hunted as she'd been since leaving the pack. His family shouldn't need to hide or to be constantly afraid. All Richard had done was become involved with her, and really, what choice had he had even in that? She'd been drawn to him, had chosen to be near him and to follow him. She'd placed him in danger because she was attracted to him, to his body, to his psyche, to his faithfulness toward family. It was even possible that she loved him.
She rounded the corner of his street and spotted his home in the darkness. A light shone in a single window. She breathed silently in the warm night air. Now that she wasn't moving, the heat of the evening bothered her, so she stripped off the light windbreaker and tied it around her waist. Her sword and sai were exposed, but there was no one to see.
A shadow paced within the room. He was awake. She didn't need her psychic abilities to imagine why. She opened herself to the night and tested the ether of the surrounding block. No insomniacs tainted the air, except Richard, his emotions laid bare to her scrutiny. He was afraid for his child, for his mother, for himself, and for her. There was anger. And longing. He wished she were with him.
She slid through the shadows to press herself against the side of his home and peek into his window. He stood barefoot in an undershirt and jeans. He rubbed a hand across his furrowed brow. She could feel the pain of the tension headache straining his temples. The desire to ease his pain was so strong, it clenched her stomach muscles tight.
She tapped on his window before she could stop herself. She shouldn't be here with him, but what more could she do? She'd done all she could to prepare for an attack, and Richard was leaving tomorrow. She tensed as he glared at her through the glass, but was nearly flooded with relief when his face cleared with recognition. He unlocked the sash for her. When he slid the pane up, she could smell the subtle, delicious scent of his skin.
She reached in through the window frame to grab the ledge and pull herself in. Whispering through an open window had too many intimate connotations. She would simply tell him what had happened, inform him of her preparations, and leave. One quick maneuver and she was inside his home. He reached out to steady her. Her heart warmed at the gesture. As unnecessary as they both knew that was, it touched her that he always seemed to want to help her. She touched his arm. The skin-on-skin contact left her breathless.
Richard's emotions roared from his psyche like a powerful river of fear, relief, desire, and something elusive. She shied away from the contact. Her psychic reserves were engorged from the concert, and her body still hummed with power. Between that vibration and the throbbing desire she felt from Richard, she experienced a harmony unlike anything she'd ever known. It felt complete. She shook her head. She didn't need this, she needed to say goodbye.
For a moment they didn't speak. He looked tired but good. His gaze became uncomfortable so she turned away. Delaying the moment that would part them forever, she studied his room. It glowed with light from an overhead fixture and a bedside lamp. The colors and textures spoke in rich masculine tones, warmth and comfort expressed in the dark cherry of the furniture and the cozy ochre of the walls. Thick green rugs mimicked fallen leaves over the hardwood floors, and the green continued in a heavy comforter on the large low bed. There was nothing feminine here, and the look was far more attractive than Darien had ever managed with all his silks and stolen money.
"I like your room."
"You like it." Richard sounded amused.
"Yes, it's very you." She smiled at him.
He took a step toward her, but she retreated and he stopped. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and concern in his eyes. He needed to talk. She could see that, but God, how she'd like to avoid it all. She didn't want to bring Darien here, even his name, into Richard's home.
"I was worried. Did you find them?"
"Oh, yes, I found them." She turned away, not wanting to see his reaction. "They were killing people, draining them dry right in the middle of the concert, and no one lifted a finger to stop them. I'd forgotten their power. Those kids were giving away their lives." She paced the room now while he held still. "They wanted me to join them. I thought about it. For just a split second." She raised her hands as if in supplication. "How much better was I, after all, feeding off the emotion in the crowd like some sort of leech?"
She sat on the edge of the bed, her head dropping down into her upraised palms.
"Did you hurt anyone?"
She looked up at the question. He stood apart from her, watching her with wary eyes.
"No."
"Did you try to stop the others from hurting anyone?"
"It was too late. I saw a girl die. But then I screamed and, and shoved with my mind. Darien couldn't attack anyone else. He was furious." She stood and paced the width of the dark green rug.
"He would have tried to kill me. But someone--a friend, I guess--shot him when he was about to charge me."
"So you stopped him. You did it, and someone else protected you for it."
She tasted the taint of his jealousy. She nodded. He refrained from asking about the friend even though she knew Richard could barely stop himself.
"Yes, I did stop him for a moment. But he isn't going to be held up for long. He was shot three times tonight, but it won't be enough. He'll heal and then he'll come after me. He'll be coming here. You have to get away as soon as you can." She grabbed him by both shoulders. "Get your family away, Richard."
Lena stared into his eyes, willing him to take action and save himself. The room drifted into silence, making his voice seem deeper, more compelling when he finally answered her.
"A few years ago my wife, Anna's mother Rhonda, was murdered. Killed in my own club, practically under my goddamn nose." Richard stared into Lena's eyes, his mouth twisted with bitterness. "Her throat was torn out, but there was barely a drop of blood in the room."
"My God," Lena whispered. A vile sickness coiled her stomach in knots. Her hands tightened on Richard's shoulders.
"I won't let it happen again, Lena. It was a vampire, wasn't it? A vampire killed her. I didn't even know she was meeting anyone new. I always checked her partners and made sure it was safe. She loved to give, and I couldn't stop her from being what she was, but I tried to protect her. It just wasn't enough."
Lena tried to back away from him, but he caught her wrists and slid back into her embrace.
"We had a club, Rhonda and I. We brought everyone's fantasies to life, even the more unusual ones. We gave people a place to be themselves. I believe in that, Lena. That you shouldn't fight what you are inside. You should embrace it."
Lena sucked in a breath. This was getting close, too close. "So I should be the very thing that killed your wife? I should be a vampire and drain you now as someone did to her?"
"No. You should open yourself. I see it in you. You've been hurt. But I see the desire in your eyes to. You wanted it as much as you hated it, didn't you? Wanted that moment when you gave in, submitted your will to another."
She wrenched free from him, stepping away from his demanding eyes. "No!"
He shifted closer, and for some reason, one she wouldn't admit to herself, she let him stroke one gentle hand down her arm.
"I've already talked to my mother, called my brother-in-law, made a few arrangements." He caressed the exposed skin on her arms and the hard leather straps holding the sai against her forearms. "We'll be leaving early, as soon as we have breakfast."
"Go earlier. Eat on the way. Better yet, go right now." She urged him.
He nodded in agreement but his hands continued to caress her skin, and his eyes grew dark.
"Darien is out of commission for tonight, and you're here to protect us from Evan. We'll go in the morning. Let mom and Anna rest for now." He touched her again. "I don't want to say goodbye. Especially not like this, not knowing you're going to face something so deadly. I might never see you again."
She said nothing and wouldn't meet his eyes. Then she whispered, "I shouldn't be here."
"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Lena. Look at you. You made a choice to leave your pack because they hurt you and because what they did was wrong. You've trained to protect yourself, and now you're helping me protect my family. You have strength and courage to face monsters." He stroked her face. "What killed Rhonda was a monster. You aren't a monster, Lena. You're a woman, filled with strengths and fears just like the rest of us."
"I'm afraid," she whispered.
"But you went after them, and you're here, now."
"I'm afraid of how I feel about you."
"Let me show you. Let me show you how to surrender without the pain."
He kissed her, meeting her lips softly. They both knew there wouldn't be another time. He'd be gone tomorrow and she might be dead by tomorrow night. Even if she lived, they could never make this work. Their lives were just too different. But in this one last moment together, she opened her lips to taste him and opened her arms to embrace all that she could have.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. Their bodies pressed tightly together and her breasts thrilled at the touch. The warmth in her belly glowed brighter and drifted lower and deeper into her body. She moaned, a sound filled with her agreement and her desire. She threaded her fingers through the back of his hair, the thick strands alternately coarse and smooth to her sensitive touch. He deepened the kiss, not forcing her but drawing her willingly into his heat.
This was a meeting of the souls. Each touch and taste played delicately, yet she could feel the full impact of it upon them both. He dragged his hands down her back. She shuddered and reached under his t-shirt as he cupped her ass. The bulge of his cock through his jeans throbbed in time with his heartbeat. She ground herself against it and brought a low chuckle to his lips.
"Not too fast," he laughed into her ear, his hot breath quickening her desire. "You drive me crazy. Do you trust me?"
He nuzzled her ear and she shivered with the sensation of his soft warm breath.
She paused. "Do you trust me?" she asked him back. "After what happened to Rhonda, do you really trust me?"
Richard let her go and walked to his chest of drawers. When he returned, he held something fluid and slender in his hands. "Yes."
Lena trembled. Her breathing quickened as she watched him slide long silken bands through his fingers. She licked her dry lips. "What are those?" Her voice squeaked.
"You know what they are." He laid the ties on the bedside table and reached for her.
She let him strip her weapons from her and pull her shirt from her body, reveling in each caress. She could do this. Heat gathered in her pussy as he slid his hands into the waistband of her pants. She held on to him, her supernatural strength deserting her in the sensual onslaught. In moments she stood naked before him.
She nuzzled his neck and inhaled his scent. Was it possible for human pheromones to affect vampires?
"Lena," he growled her name, gripped her ass, and lifted her from her feet. In two strides he was at the bedroom door and she heard the snick of the door lock. A moment later and they were pressed against the wall and he was grinding against her. His left arm locked her in place and he freed his right to roam her body, palming her breasts, thumbing her nipples, and drawing his name from her lips in return.
"I need you." His voice sounded bruised with desire.
There was no way to tell him how she much needed him, too. She needed his touch, his cock, his blood, his trust. She needed more than she could ever hope to receive. There was simply no time. So she took his yearning and pretended that it, too, was only physical and slid down his body, rubbing hard against him. She unzipped his pants to free his cock.
"Wait. Let me take you to the bed," he groaned. "Let me love you in my bed."
Her heart skipped a beat. She refused to look deeper into his words for his true meaning. It was just a word. Instead she took his hand and let him lead her the few steps to his bed. He kissed her again, and she willed herself not to think anymore. She melted into his touch. One kiss progressed into another as they dropped to the mattress. His hands were everywhere. She moaned under his questing fingers as they penetrated the soft folds of her pussy and slid into her core.
He held her and touched her and kissed her mouth as she came, and as she panted in her recovery, he took the opportunity to reach for the silken ties she'd nearly forgotten about. Her heart stuttered.
"Trust me." His voice, so roughened from desire, sent shivers through her. "We both know you could break these, so trust me."
She tried to slow her heartbeat, trying to control the waves of lust and panic. Her first orgasm had left her so wet and wanting. She didn't resist when he tied her wrists to the bedposts.
She waited for the fear to come, and the pain, but instead she reeled with pleasure as he licked his way down the curves of her breast and down to her belly button, tonguing it deeply. She growled when he bit at the sides of her thighs to force her legs wider apart.
"Ah," she breathed, "please."
He lifted her hips from the bed to taste her. She was completely naked beneath him, while he remained clothed, the rough jeans still shrouding his hips although his cock thrust freely from between the folds of his zipper.
He paused and stared at her. "You're beautiful."
She needed to keep it light or she might not make it through the night. "You're horny. And way overdressed."
He smiled, but her grin faltered as he slipped another tie around each ankle. The sensation was familiar, her limbs spread wide to the mercy of a man. She panted as the cool touch of fear slid through her heart.
"You can get free if you want to, Lena," Richard said softly. "You have the control. You can say no. All I want is for you to trust me. Open yourself to me. Feel every touch." He bent to lick at her breasts, their tips so hard she could barely stand his sucking caress. "I'll give you everything your body craves, as long as you trust me."
"Yes." The soft agreement slipped from her.
He picked up one more piece of satin, brought it to her face, and caressed her lips with it before he covered her eyes. She uttered a soft mew of protest, but he muffled her mouth with his, sliding his tongue between her lips and tasting her.
I can get free if I want to. I could rip these ties, even this bed apart. Oh, God, oh, fuck. I don't want to. Her thoughts evaporated under the heat of his touch. He stroked her everywhere. She couldn't guess where he would touch or suck or tickle next.
He stroked her breasts and pulled hard on each nipple. His lips traveled from her breasts to her thighs and back again, driving her from slow burning embers to hot licking flames. He invaded the dark crevasse of her ass, pulling a gasp to her lips. In amazement she felt her body squirming to open itself more to him so that he could plunder her depths in any way he desired. And, even as she offered herself up to him, there was no humiliation, no sorrow, and no loss of strength or self.
Tears slid from the corner of her closed eyes and wet the silk. His touch stilled for a moment. How much time had passed? How many orgasms had she toppled through?
The faintest touch on her ribcage was her only warning. Suddenly she was gasping again for breath, but this time it was because she couldn't stop giggling. He teased her with a light texture, and she bucked and twisted under the torturous tickling.
"Is that a feather?"
Her amusement drove away any final anxiety. Even that slipped away as his mouth centered again on her pussy, licking, sucking, fucking her with that devious tongue. Surrender. She knew the instant it happened, the moment when she would do anything this man asked, literally anything. Fear touched her and then skittered under another orgasm.
"Please," she begged, "I need to touch you."
As he released one arm she nuzzled his neck and inhaled his scent. Her fangs dropped from their sheaths, but she felt no lack of control. She was still sated from the emotional power of the concert. But she did want to taste him and feel his surrender to her nature even as she surrendered her body to his. She opened her lips and bit, gently.
"Oh!" He gasped but didn't pull away from her. She realized he'd prepared himself for this tiny pain. She sucked slowly, pulling only droplets of blood. His cock throbbed hard with each pulse. She lifted her lips from his throat and licked the tiny wounds closed.
"Lena," he groaned. "I've got to have you." He yanked at the ties on her other arm and legs.
Freed, she guided the head of his cock to her slick opening. The smooth skin of his cock felt as though it covered a wooden rod. He threw his head back and moaned as he pushed inside her, taking his time with one long, slow thrust.
She slid her hands inside his jeans and pulled them lower down his hips. She cupped and scratched his ass with her nails, laughing softly as he shuddered. She then took his flat nipple into her mouth, teasing it into a tiny pebble almost as hard as his cock. He bucked against her, thrusting hard into her heat. She lifted her knees until she could feel his balls slap against her with each thrust. They moaned together at the tight friction each movement brought, and in moments, she was soaring. He rose with her until they fell together in a shuddering orgasm.
It was heaven and hell. I do love him. She waited until he could breathe evenly again, but before he could speak, she bit him for just a touch more blood, driving his lust to a new peak. The yearning couldn't be ignored, and they began to love again.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Seventeen
Richard looked at the clock. Its digital numbers glowed their evil red message into the darkness. Nearly eight-thirty. They hadn't had much sleep last night, he and Lena, but he felt rested and alive. He wiggled his toes and opened his arms to embrace the morning. When his left hand collided with skin, he jumped.
"Damn it, Lena!" She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be hidden away from the sunlight for the duration of today. She was safe for the moment, but as the sun rose higher in the sky and broke through the gaps in the blinds, she would be in trouble.
Her long black hair tumbled over her pillow and cheek. She looked at home in his bed. As though she belonged. Her soft lips pouted in her sleep. Naked now of cosmetics, they looked sexier than with her signature dark red. Her skin glowed a pale but healthy pink. She didn't look like a dead person. She looked like an angel. Whoa, buddy. Where are you going with this? She looks like she belongs, but she doesn't.
"Lena." He shook her shoulder, but she didn't respond. He flashed back to seeing her asleep in the tub in the Dublin hotel, and he drew his hand back. He didn't really want to see her like that again, the crudest part of her vampiric nature exposed. Why had she stayed? The last thing he remembered, other than some deeply satisfying sex, was her head nestled on his shoulder. He'd just wanted to hold her for a bit. The sex had been amazing, and in the end he wasn't sure who had been the one in control. Frankly, it didn't matter.
He had to decide what to do about her. He couldn't leave her in his bed. He also needed break it to Anna that they were leaving for a few days. He'd packed last night, but he would need to get Anna and his mother moving out the door.
Richard rubbed a hand over his face, scratching at the stubble growing there. The bed felt comfortable and warm. It was hard to summon the desperation to leave he'd felt last night and hard to feel the danger he knew was on its way. Even knowing Lena's true nature, it all seemed unreal.
"Dad?" A small voice sounded through his door, followed by a soft knock.
Richard grimaced. The last thing he needed was questions about grown-up sleepovers. Or worse, about why this particular guest didn't have any clothes and didn't wake up.
"Just a minute, honey." He slid from the bed and pulled on the jeans he'd left in a heap on the floor. As quietly as he could, he opened the sliding closet doors. Guilt snaked down his back as he tucked Lena and the heavy green comforter into the long narrow closet. She'd be safer from the sun there, but it felt wrong to stash her away this way.
He flipped the lock on his bedroom door and opened it to face his daughter.
"Hey, baby, what are you doing up so early?" He reached for her, gathered her up into his arms for a quick hug. Her soft hair tickled his chin. Pity the person who didn't have a small child to hug when everything else seemed wrong. A quick embrace from Anna put everything in its place.
"Sunday morning cartoon time with you, silly."
He set her down and managed a smile although his stomach felt tight with tension. "Right. Well, we have a little change of plans, baby doll. We're off to see Uncle John today."
"But, Daddy." Her small face crumpled.
"We haven't seen him for a long time and I think he misses us. I know I miss him."
"But, it's a really long drive," she said with a pout.
"I know, so we're going to stay a couple of nights, like a camping trip. Think of the fun we can have there with the lake and the barn. I bet he has a new batch of barn kittens."
She still looked doubtful, but a small speculative gleam lit her eyes. "If he has more kittens, he won't need them all, will he?"
He ruffled her curls. "I know where you're going with this, munchkin, and we'll see. Is Gram up?"
"She went for groceries." They moved toward the kitchen, Richard quietly shutting his bedroom door behind him.
"Maybe she'll get treats for the road." He fought to keep his voice light for his daughter's sake. "Let's get breakfast and then pack your stuff." The urge to leave held him in a tight grip, but his mother would be back in a few minutes, time enough to get Anna moving and ready.
After a quick coffee, he left Anna to her waffles and went to his room. He couldn't resist a peek in the closet. Lena hadn't moved. He slipped a pillow under her head. She never stirred. Last night he'd felt something he hadn't experienced for a long time. He didn't want to name it, and maybe he didn't want to feel it, only to risk losing it. He carefully closed the door. He picked up Lena's discarded clothing. Her sai and knives were on the floor, as well. She'd been armed to the teeth.
One thing he could do for her before he left was to leave her something fresh to wear. His mother wouldn't mind loaning her a few things. Setting the sword and shorter knives inside the closet beside the sleeping woman, he shut her in again and slipped from his room to his mother's. It took a moment but he found a pair of jeans and two soft cotton shirts that would fit. He also grabbed some underthings. He grinned as he remembered she hadn't worn any panties last night. She'd either wear them or not, but at least she had something clean if she wanted it.
He checked on Anna, but she was still picking at her breakfast. He wrote a note and left it with the clothes folded on the edge of his bed. Then he grabbed the suitcase he'd packed the night before, and left the room, locking it this time behind him. It was only a child safety lock, and he cringed at the flimsiness of it. Already he felt like a heel, leaving Lena unprotected and alone to face the two people she feared most. But he had to make sure Anna and his mother were safe, that what had happened to Rhonda would never happen to another person he loved.
\*\*\*
Stale air and cramped quarters greeted Lena when she woke. What the hell? She lay still while she worked it out. Her sharp senses caught no light or sound, but she smelled shoes. I'm in the damn closet. Relief swept through her as she realized her location and remembered the previous night. She struggled free of the blankets wrapped around her and immediately touched the cool steel of her weapons. Richard must have stored them and her sleeping body in the closet for the day while he moved his family to safety.
Richard. Her body stilled. She'd fallen asleep with him. She shuddered as the implications rushed through her. This was much more than the trust of last night's mild bondage. She could have escaped that, had she wanted to. She'd left herself completely defenseless in his care. She trusted him. In truth, she loved him.
Why else would she risk her life to make sure he and his family were safe? Honor aside, she might die tonight.
"Make that probably." She wrenched the last of the blankets aside and reached for the door handle. Her psychic senses spread through the house, but it stood completely empty. She opened the door and stepped over her duffel bag. Her short sword lay on top. Richard had left it available for her as soon as she awoke. She took in the clothes left for her on the bed. Warmth surged through her. He took such care in the little details. Perhaps he would never say he loved her, but she could see he cared.
The glowing red numbers on a bedside clock-radio reminded her she didn't have much time to prepare. Darien would arrive soon. Her mind raced as she threw on the clothes. That they fit and wouldn't hamper her movements was all that mattered. She could smell his mother on them, and that made her smile. At least they weren't remnants of his dead wife's wardrobe. She pulled her hair back tightly in a long French braid. If there had been time she would have showered and washed the listless tresses. But there was no time left.
It would be best to take the fight away from the house. Richard didn't need to return to a mess or have to explain it to his family or the cops. She grimaced. At least there would be no bodies. Vampire bodies eroded quickly once they were truly dead. That part of the legend was true.
She wrapped herself in steel, donning every weapon she owned. There was no time to admire the quality of her sword, but her thoughts turned to Drake and New Hope. Richard had a chance now. Whatever Drake was, if Darien hunted once more in Drake's territory, he was dead.
If Darien won tonight, he'd have to feed again, and then Drake would come after him. A shiver raced down her neck. She had no doubt that Drake, whatever he was, was the deadlier of the two.
Distance was the key. Lena would prefer to live. But something insisted that she protect Richard and his family, and she was damn tired of running. Darien was never going to let her go, so it was better to face him now, maybe especially now while she was strong and he was weak. He was a long way from the rest of the pack. That alone would eat at him with the worry that they would defect to some stronger leader in his absence.
The house was too tight for her usual kata practice, so she peeked out the window and extended her senses as far as she dared. No vampires. She slipped out the door, leaving behind her kitbag and purse. Nothing must hinder her now. She stretched as she walked, loosening her muscles with slow movements. All the weapons were securely strapped. In a parody of last night's lovemaking, she rotated her hips with each step. These stretches might look sexual to some, but with the blackened steel she wore, she was more like death dancing in the shadows.
Once in the woods, the thinner branches slapped at her, stinging her lightly. They would hold her scent and draw the hunting vampires to her if she wasn't headed directly toward them. There was really only one place to go, the abandoned building where she'd set her trap. If it hadn't been sprung, or simply destroyed by Darien or Evan, it might help her now.
In minutes she reached the fence where she'd entered the grounds before. Evan might find it odd that she would leave such an obvious trail, but she knew Darien. By now he would be rising, and he'd be far beyond furious. He would be the one following her trail, not Evan. Evan would barely keep up with Darien in this state. She vaulted the fence, still feeling the power from the concert. She'd need it now.
The darkness hid nothing from her. She left her senses open as she decided where to make a stand. There, an open area near the entrance to the building.
A sudden draft of malice slid through her body from the back. He was coming! She raced to jam open the door to the abandoned building, leaving herself another route for escape though its halls.
She faced the shadows and withdrew her senses tighter to her mind. She didn't need to know how angry he was, not in this level of detail. It drowned her. Like thick black mucus it tried to block her breath and leave her gasping for air. Shutting it out was the only way to breathe.
He emerged from the darkness. For once his long blond hair hung lifeless, lank with grime. Damp earth clung to his clothes. Clearly he had slept in the dirt while he healed. Instead of being embraced by the earth, he looked as though he had struggled from a grave.
"Helena." He eased to the side slightly, drawing her eyes. As if self-conscious, he struggled to control his breathing and ran a hand through his hair. She said nothing, and didn't move. Moving might allow him to force her away from the open doorway.
"Helena," he said again, softly, seductively. His dark eyes drank her in. A soft smile curved his lips. "My love, you look good, if positively deadly. Where have you been? I waited for you to come back to me last night and apologize for this." He slid his hands up the length of his body, flaunting it in front of her until he reached his chest. There he thrust one finger through the bullet-hole in the lapel of his jacket, directly over his heart. He looked good, despite the dirt. Sounded delicious with that deep rumbling voice.
But he is snarling inside like an animal with rabies.
Lena swallowed hard. She feinted quickly, testing his nerves with a slash of her small knife. How badly did he want to kill her? He didn't openly react, but she caught the tensing of his shoulders and the flare of his nostrils. More telling, she caught the taste of hatred in the air. Oh, yeah, he's gonna kill me.
"Where's Evan, Darien? Hiding in the dark? I know you don't do your own dirty work," she taunted him.
He smiled. "He's hunting, of course, like a good little bloodhound." He edged slightly closer. She let him. "We all have our places, Helena, and he's content in his. You should have remained in your place at my side."
"Under your heel, you mean."
He almost attacked faster than she could counter. He grabbed the back of her neck at the base of her hair. She slashed with her knife but was rewarded only with the slight lessening of his grip. Her blade was foiled by his jacket, snared enough that it was impossible to retrieve. She released it and ripped herself from his grasp, sacrificing a handful of her hair.
She could tell he was surprised by her strength. So was she. She hadn't known she could do it. His scent was less appealing now. His dark eyes, once such powerful weapons, were flat in the dim light. He snapped out in a blur with his fist. She didn't hesitate. She drew both her sai and slammed the left against his oncoming blow even as she jammed the right hilt-first into his ribs. There wasn't enough room to run him through, but the solid steel cracked something.
She danced back out of his reach. She opened her senses now and faced his rage, only to touch an elusive moment of fear. He's afraid I'm going to win!
"Evan is going to kill them." He struck out at her in another way. "He's tracking them now. He'll kill your human lover and save the little brat for me." His eyes narrowed and his fangs glinted in the faint moonlight. "You can't have feelings for that human. He's nothing but a whore. I saw his little sex club, Menage, on my last trip to the States. But it didn't have anything to offer me. Not like you."
It was possible that her heart stopped for a moment. It was all he needed and he launched himself at her. She blocked his first punch with the steel of her sai braced flat against her forearm. His second glanced off her jaw. Its power blackened her vision for a moment, and he was on her.
His mouth crushed against hers, his teeth ripping the edge of her lip and bathing his kiss in blood. For a moment, just a tiny, tiny moment, she stopped fighting. The blood, the lust, the fight, the struggle for control. It was everything she'd escaped and everything that had meant anything to her for years before.
When he spoke, she listened to the tone of his voice rather than his words. She almost forgot, almost gave in until the words struck her.
"You will kneel, Helena. You will kneel and beg and bleed while I take you. If you're good enough, I might forgive you. I might let you live if you beg with everything you have. You always were good on your knees." He pinched her nipples hard through her shirt. "I might even let you feed off the little girl."
Faster than she'd ever moved before, she spun the sai in her left hand and used every bit of her strength to gouge his ribcage. Even as his mouth gaped open in a howl of rage, she wrenched it free and jerked away from him. She had to get to Richard before it was too late. With Darien's anger rushing toward her like a tidal wave, she shouldered the building door the rest of the way open.
He was after her, the two of them racing through the dark hallways like shadows. Only she knew where she was headed, and he was blindly following. It was her only hope. She ran harder, her heart threatening to rip its way through her chest as it pounded with the effort. Every minute she wasted here was a minute Evan spent tracking Richard and his family.
She was leaving Darien behind. She rounded the last corner and left his field of vision for less than a second, but it was enough. She pressed flat against the wall beside the doorway. He flew past her into the freezer room, ripe with the scent of her blood. He shoved open the freezer door, his momentum slamming the heavy metal door against the spring with a force that could not be stopped. The door rebounded, springing the trap.
He whirled, but she was there to block his exit. Even as he jumped back into the freezer, she opened her right hand and caught her sai by its tip. In one smooth action she raised her arm and threw the weapon. It rocketed through the air and embedded into the meat of his chest as the heavy steel door slammed shut.
Darien was trapped. He'd lost a lot of blood last night, and there hadn't been the scent of new blood when he'd arrived to attack her, so he'd yet to feed tonight. Between that and the two wounds she'd managed to inflict, he might lack the strength to smash his way out of the freezer at all. He screamed and pounded from inside his trap.
She panted, the world pulsing around her in time to her heartbeat. For extra security, she wedged a length of thick lumber between the freezer door and the floor. Then she whirled and ran. It would take him hours to get out, and only if he didn't die of blood loss first. It wasn't likely, but it was something to hope for as she made the fastest run of her life. She had to reach Richard before Evan.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Eighteen
Richard swore softly under his breath. Why had he left it so goddamned late to leave? The threat just hadn't seemed real until the shadows lengthened on the sides of the road. They were in the country now, far from home, nearly at his reclusive brother-in-law's lakeside home. But his shoulders ached from tension. Maybe this wasn't far enough.
The SUV was quiet. Maybe his mother and Anna felt his tension, or maybe they were simply tired from the long ride. They'd been driving since just after breakfast. Anna had been reading in the back seat, but now her head was tilted back, her cheeks shaded by her long eyelashes.
"She's asleep, Richard." His mother watched him from the passenger side. Her forehead was creased with tiny worry lines. "Now, would you mind telling me what this is all about?" Her fingers intertwined.
"We needed to get away. We can't stay at the house for a little while, not until things calm down."
"What do you mean, calm down? Everything was calm until you came home. What happened? Is it something to do with the woman you've been meeting in the woods?" She smiled when he jerked his eyes away from the road to stare at her for a moment.
"You should be a spy," Richard quipped.
"I'm a mother. I am a spy."
It was getting darker and Richard pressed harder on the gas pedal. This part of the drive was normally Richard's favorite, but despite the beauty of the countryside around them, he shuddered. The trees seemed to be pressing closer, the shadows growing deeper.
"I was right, Mom, something did come back with me on this last trip."
"The woman?"
"Yes, and something more. She's dangerous, Mom, and there are people after her." He gripped the steering wheel. There was no way they were going to make it to John's before the sunset. At least he'd stopped for gas and a snack earlier. They could stay on the road now until they reached the private cottage his brother-in-law called home.
"Why doesn't she go to the police?" she demanded in a whisper. "What has this got to do with us?"
"I don't know, Mom. I don't know how to explain it, how it happened. Lena and I, we've become involved." He pressed his lips together. His mother deserved an explanation. "She's more than I could have imagined. Or she's everything I could imagine. Something. Anyway, her past, you might say it's catching up with her. I never meant to bring any of this home." He ground his teeth together. The huge red sun hung low in the sky. Glimpses of its bright color flashed through the treetops.
"What exactly are you afraid of, Richard? You've been driving like you were possessed for the last hour." Fear sharpened the edges of her words. "What's chasing us? Does it--is it something to do with Rhonda's death?"
His breath catching, he stayed quiet for a moment. Her soft words had seemed so loud. "There might be something chasing us. Something deadly. Something that lives in the darkness. We need to be far away when it comes."
"My god, Richard. Who is it?"
"More like, what is it. I know you won't be able to understand this. Won't believe it. There are times when I don't believe it." He shook his head slowly, and kept his eyes on the road, on the sinking sun, and on the shadows.
"Richard, you're scaring me." She was whispering too, now.
"They're vampires."
"What?"
He glanced over to see her eyes crinkle in confusion, possibly in doubt for his sanity.
"I know what this sounds like. I met Lena, Helena Townsend, on this last trip in Ireland." He gripped the wheel. He needed to get this out. "She's beautiful. Incredible. She's powerful and so strong, but so scared, too."
"You've slept with her." His mother sighed. "I know you've been terribly lonely, Richard. What can I say? I'm not surprised that you've become involved with someone. You've built a quiet life for yourself and Anna since Rhonda's murder, but I've known for a long time that you needed to be more yourself. But this? What does this woman have to do with vampires? I don't understand."
For once, her strong voice sounded old. Her eyes were closed and she rubbed her temple. Despite her crazy t-shirts and cut-off jeans, this woman was his mother. What was he doing, bringing this mess home to her and Anna?
"I'm so sorry, Mom. I built that life for Anna, not for me. But I'm sorry for this."
She opened her eyes and looked hard at him. "What's done is done. Now what the hell is happening?"
"Lena is a vampire. They run in packs in Europe, and maybe here. She couldn't take the killing anymore or the way she was treated by the pack leader. So she ran away. Now they're after her. Since I've helped her, we're at risk. It's all my fault," he said grimly. "I'm certain now that what killed Rhonda--what the detective said then was right. What killed her wasn't human. It was a vampire."
"Oh, Richard." The grief lay heavily in the timbre of her voice. "I can't pretend to believe in vampires. But I can see you do and that you're seriously afraid. I think you're confused. But whatever happens, I'll be here with you."
Her words faded with the last of the sunlight.
\*\*\*
Lena's long, loping stride nibbled away the strength she'd gained at the concert. She was still stronger than she'd ever been in her life, though, and she prayed it would be enough. Evan's scent had been in Richard's house, in the woods, and in the yard. He really was tracking them. Darien hadn't lied to her. She'd hoped to face Evan in the parking lot or the woods, but he wasn't there.
What the hell had Darien meant about being at Menage? In the years since she'd been turned, he hadn't left her alone for more than a few days. He had to be jerking her around, making her wonder about Richard's character. Had to be. Her mouth dried at the thought of Richard's revelation that his wife had been murdered by something not human. "Oh, God," she whispered aloud.
Darien was too experienced in these mind games. She had to concentrate. The cocky bastard had thought he could take care of her alone while Evan ran off to pick up supper. She growled through her clenched teeth. She would kill Evan if he hurt that child. She would do it anyway if he hurt Richard or his mother, but he would more than suffer if he harmed that little girl. Whether they knew it or not, Richard's family was her pack now.
She was miles from the house now, far enough that Richard might think it was safe to stop. She'd already passed the town where he and his family had lunched. She could only follow Evan's scent. Evan was following Richard, that was clear, but Richard's scent was not possible for her to detect. She didn't have the skills. Evan did, so she followed his scent, clear and crisp on the night air.
Sunset was well over two hours past. She was running on borrowed power. The energy from the concert would eventually pass from her system, and while it would be some time before she found that kind of energy again, Darien and Evan had only to suck the life out of a few innocents to regain their strength. She had no choice. It was now or never. She had to find Evan and stop him, and she had to remove Darien as a threat to her pack.
She rounded a corner down a narrow street heavily treed and probably not often traveled. At this point she wasn't even sure where she was, but Evan's scent didn't lie to her. It was definitely the right road.
If there was anyone she'd missed, it was Evan. He'd given her some dignity in that terrible situation. If she could, she would stop him, but she wouldn't kill him. If she could.
\*\*\*
Finally. Richard huffed a breath through his lips. They pulled into his brother-in-law's yard, the long drive lit only at the end near the cottage. John stepped from the doorway, waving his hand in greeting.
"Will you tell him why we're really here?" His mother asked softly.
"John has had enough trouble, Mom. Maybe we should have a nice quiet visit."
"He has a gun."
Richard sighed again, his shoulders slumped. "Yeah, I know, but from what I understand, guns just piss them off."
"You have to at least tell him there might be trouble. It's only fair to give him some warning." She laid her hand on his shoulder, its warmth a reminder of her strength. He nodded, the quick jerk of his head a short agreement to that but nothing more.
John had left the house and walked toward the SUV. "Hey there."
Richard opened his door and stepped down from the big vehicle. "Hey yourself." He reached out to slap his brother-in-law into a rough hug.
"Look, I'm sorry about this, but one of the ladies on my watch has just gone into heavy labor. I've got to go down to the racetrack, and I'm afraid I'm going to be all night."
Richard noted the disappointment and worry on his mother's face. He spoke before she could say anything.
"Of course, we'll be fine, John. You take care of that mare and we'll just settle in for the night. Anna is already asleep."
"No, I'm not, Daddy."
"Anna, you're getting bigger by the minute." John exclaimed. "Come here and give me a hug."
She popped out of the backseat. How long had she been awake? But she seemed more tousled than troubled as she ran to her Uncle John's embrace.
"But, John--" his mother began.
"We'll be fine, Mom," Richard interjected. "Look where we are, so far from home, I almost forgot how to get here. We'll just lock up for the night and see John in the morning."
"Yup, and I'll cook you the biggest breakfast you've ever seen, with pancakes for Anna, of course." John popped the rear hatch of the SUV. Anna trailed after him with questions about the pregnant horse. He picked up two small suitcases and headed to the house.
"I'm sure we'll be okay, Mom," Richard repeated and hugged her tight. "We're far away."
He let her go and she walked slowly to the cottage. Then he grabbed the last of the suitcases and slammed the back gate shut. He scanned the empty drive and the dark side road. They'd better be fine. There was no where else to go.
"Okay," John called out as Richard entered the old house. "There's a beautiful big ham in the cooler and a bowl of potato salad. All I can do on short notice."
Richard set the suitcases in the hallway. John's smile faltered for a moment as he watched him.
"What's wrong, Rich? Something is wrong, isn't it? I can call someone else to watch the mare."
Richard took a hard look at him. John had been through difficult times in the last year. Richard rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and then across his eyes and face.
"No, you go. We'll be all right tonight. We can talk about it tomorrow."
John hesitated, and then nodded his head. He started toward the door but stopped when Richard asked him softly, "Do you still keep the gun in your bedside table?"
"Yeah. Do you need it?" His brown eyes never blinked as he asked in the same, soft tone.
"Maybe. But I hope not tonight."
\*\*\*
Richard rubbed his eyes and then peered into the night. His muscles ached from the long, tense drive, and his eyes felt withered and dry from the strain. Good God, it was as black as pitch out there. What had he been thinking? There were no neighbors. No police nearby. No castle walls, no fucking flamethrowers. He grimaced and touched the gun at his waistband once again.
The night had barely begun. How would he hold out until morning? The late summer sunset had been three hours ago. Nearly eleven o'clock, according to the old-fashioned gong clock which had startled him a few minutes earlier. He'd damn near shot the bloody thing. Had he fallen asleep? He walked quietly through the house, stealthily checked the doors and windows once again. His mother and Anna were tucked into the spare room, and they'd made a bed up for him on the couch. Another glimpse into their room gave him the reassurance he needed. He walked back to the front room window.
It might be hours until John returned from seeing to the foaling mare. It might be hours before he wasn't alone again. My God, what had he been thinking, bringing this disaster to his family? He should never have let Lena go. He should have taken her and his family and run so much farther than this. Was Lena okay? Had she faced the vampires yet? Had he been followed?
He closed his eyes, just for a second, and all hell broke loose.
Like thunder the front door smashed open against the wall with such force that Richard jumped backward into a small round table and overturned the lone lamp upon it. In the sudden darkness, the figure in the doorway seemed grotesquely large, his clothes as black as the night, his features twisted.
"Get out!" Richard found his voice despite the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Get the fuck out of here!" He reached for the gun and was astonished to find he couldn't move. The vampire in the darkness was suddenly upon him, holding him as close as a lover against the living room wall.
"Shut up, just shut up!" he snarled at Richard, fangs glinting in a mouth twisted with anger. "Shut the fuck up. Where is she?"
"Who?" Richard croaked as the vampire pressed him harder against the wall.
"Helena." He shook Richard, smashing the back of his skull against the wall. Richard felt the lathe and plaster cave in slightly.
"Not--not here," he gasped.
"I can fucking well smell that. Where is she?"
"I don't know."
With a roar the creature threw him through the air. Richard crashed into a chair and felt it shatter beneath him.
In shock he watched the vampire pace the room, roaring in pure frustration. As casually as he would have ripped a paper in two, the monster ripped the side of the couch completely off. Richard staggered up from the broken remains of the chair to face the vampire again.
"I have to bring her back. Goddamnit! You don't understand. I have to bring her back, or bring someone else instead." He pounded the doorway, crumpling more plaster under his fists. "I have to."
Motion in the shadows caught Richard's attention. His heart stuttered. Anna and his mother were creeping through the hallway toward the kitchen behind the vampire. Smart. That kitchen door was the only other exit.
"Lena isn't here. She's back there, hunting your master." Richard found the will to look at the vampire, to face his accusing glare. Was there desperation in those eyes?
"Then she's already dead." A lock of dark brown hair fell into his face as the creature bowed his head.
"And you will be, too, vampire, if you don't get out of here."
The clock softly ticked in the still air. Richard stole a quick look toward the hallway. Anna's white face glowed with fear in the darkness as she and Sandra inched toward escape.
"I have no choice." The dark man looked into Richard's eyes. "I'm sorry."
"No!" Richard lunged and struck the creature hard in the curve of his back above the kidney, but faster than it seemed possible, the vampire vaulted into the hallway and flung Sandra away from Anna. He had to have known they were there all the time. There was no hesitation as he reached for Richard's daughter.
Richard snatched the gun from his waistband and fired. The flash from the handgun was blinding in the near darkness, but not bright enough to burn away the sight of Anna dangling from the vampire's arms. With a backhand the vampire knocked the gun from Richard's hand, sending it spinning away into the shadows. Weaponless, Richard plowed forward in a shoulder tackle even as the creature slammed into Richard's body as hard as a car crash. Finally, darkness consumed everything.
\*\*\*
Lena crept toward the house. It was a cottage, really, small and white and surely a century old. Secluded. Just the sort of location that would offer a private dinner for a hungry vampire. What had Richard been thinking in coming here?
Evan's scent clung to the ground. He'd knelt in exactly the same place where she knelt now with its perfect viewpoint of the tiny cottage and the SUV parked in the front. Richard's SUV. There were no other vehicles, and she didn't know if she should be relieved at the lack of more innocents or angry at his stupidity. If she were protecting her family, she'd surround them with people and walls and firepower. All he'd done was run, and not far enough. She shook her head. Maybe she hadn't explained how fast vampires could run. She couldn't remember.
Soft light glowed from the front window of the quiet house. Slowly, Lena extended her senses to gather tendrils of information from the air around her. The woods nearby, despite reeking of Evan, stood empty. The scent of blood slid out of the house on the night air. She rushed to the front door, noticing only now that it showed signs of a forced entry. Evan had certainly been here, but had he gone? And what damage had he done?
Heart pounding wildly, she couldn't control her psychic senses any longer. Instead, she slammed through room after room searching for the source of the blood odor. The living room furniture lay in shambles, most of it overturned and shredded. Broken glass crunched beneath her feet. A low moan escaped her lips. She knew the taste of that scent. Richard's blood. Where was he?
"Richard!" she screamed out his name.
"Lena." Soft and low, her name reached her acute ears through the walls of the house. She ran in a swift blur toward him.
"Lena." She ripped open the door to the master bedroom closet. His body toppled from the closet and into her arms. The scent of his blood was ripe in the air, so thick she could taste it again in her mind. Bright blood streamed down his forehead and dripped from his chin. She held him with relief and listened with all her senses to his heart beating steadily in his chest.
"Where is he? Lena. Lena, he has Anna!"
"What?" She steadied him as he stumbled forward.
"He came, a vampire. He was so fast, so goddamn fast. He tore her from my arms. I was in the living room when he grabbed her. I don't even know how I got in here." Richard looked wildly around the room. "Where is she? Where is Anna?"
"I don't know. Evan, the vampire who was here, he's gone. I don't know where Anna is."
"Mom. Mom was here, too." He gripped her arm hard, and she shivered at the fear pouring from deep within his soul. "Where is my mother? Where is my baby?"
A soft whimper reached Lena's ears. "Come on." She retraced her steps to the living room, supporting Richard's weight with one arm around his waist. She flipped back the overturned couch to reveal Richard's mother lying beneath it on the floor. "I didn't even sense her here. I could only feel you."
"Mom, are you okay? What happened? Where is Anna?" Richard knelt with her on the floor.
"Oh, God, Richard." Pain and horror flickered across her face as she reached to touch the flow of blood on her son's face.
He brushed her hand aside. "I'm okay. But he took her. He took Anna!"
"What was he, Richard? Was he...?" She stared at Lena, her face hardening. "He was a killer, like you! You! You brought this here. You did this!"
"Yes, in a way. It's my fault," Lena said slowly.
Richard helped his mother to her feet. "No. Lena didn't do this. All she wanted to do was get away from these men. All she wanted was to be free."
"No. In the end, what I wanted, Richard, was you." Lena turned away from mother and son. "That's why they took Anna."
"Where did they take her?" Richard's mother sobbed.
"Now that, I might know. He hasn't been gone long. It'll take him longer to get back if he's carrying Anna."
Richard groaned. Pain, raw and powerful, flooded from him in waves. She brutally shut it down even as a tear slipped from her eye. "He'll take her to Darien. He won't kill her, Richard. Not while he can use her to lure me."
Dark Harmony: Chapter Nineteen
Lena paced back and forth in the living room, impatiently flipping the heavier furniture upright as she went. "Look, it's going to take too long for me to drive back with you. I can make it there faster if I run."
Richard worked with her to right the room's contents. Her long black hair hung in a heavy braid behind her, swaying softly along her shoulder like a satin python. She's so beautiful. Even in the midst of this horror, she's fantastic, like walking sex. And yet all she wants to do is help us, no matter the cost to her own safety. Anger and fear pulsed through him, one thought chasing another, keeping total despair at bay. The vampire has my baby. I can't let him have Lena. But she's ready to fight him. She's strong and deadly. Together we can kill the fucking bastard. Together we'll get Anna back.
"No."
She whipped around to face him. "Yes. I can run there and maybe get Anna back here before dawn."
"No. You said that Darien is trapped. And it will take Evan hours to get there carrying Anna. I won't let you face them alone again. That was a mistake, and just look what it cost us." Richard grabbed a broken rung from the remains of a chair and flung it as hard as he could against the wall.
"But, Richard--"
"No. We need to stick together. If you go ahead and they manage to capture you--if they have you, they have no reason to keep Anna alive. No. They would kill you both."
Their eyes met and held. It was all true, but it must have hurt her to admit that Darien could win against Lena on her own.
"Together we have a better chance, Lena. We must get Anna back." His voice broke and he turned away.
"What about Drake? He helped you before." Richard didn't want to ask but forced out the words somehow. Anything to get Anna back. Anything.
"You know about Drake?" Her surprise rubbed his ego, and not in a good way.
"Yeah, I know about him. He's the one that helped you at the concert. He's a dom from the club. I don't like you being anywhere fucking near him." He turned his burning eyes on Lena. "But if he can help us get Anna back...." He grimaced. He wanted to keep her far from him, keep her to himself. But how could he avoid anyone that might help them win? "He's not a nice man."
"No, I don't imagine he is. In fact, I don't believe he's a man at all."
"What?" What the hell was that supposed to mean? Another vampire?
She paced the room, tracking the same path she'd taken across the carpet a dozen times now. "Never mind. Doesn't matter now. We're on our own unless Darien kills another innocent." She stared at him with desperation in her eyes. "And if that happens, it will already be too late."
He looked away from those eyes and around the room, nearly returned to its previous order. Richard's stomach churned. He longed to scream, to smash something, to kill the bastard that had stolen his daughter. But he needed to control himself now, or he would lose it altogether. He felt a light touch on his shoulder.
"We will get her back. Together," Lena said softly.
"What's going on here?" a deep voice called from the open door. Richard jumped, but it was John. Lena was poised to attack. Richard grabbed her hand to steady her.
"This is my brother-in-law, John."
Lena nodded but stayed close as Richard filled in John on everything that had happened. John's face turned from shock to disbelief to a sickened comprehension. When he turned a wondering gaze on Lena, Richard reached instinctively for Lena's hand.
"Get your hands off him, you filthy bloodsucker!" Sandra's cold voice caught Richard off guard. His mother stood in the doorway to the kitchen and stared at Lena.
"Sandra. Stop." John inserted himself between the two women. "She's trying to help. From what Richard says, she could have run from all this, left us and never looked back."
"We need all the help we can get to save Anna." Richard added.
Sandra turned and left without another word, back into the kitchen.
"She can't help it." John faced Lena. "She loves Anna like the earth loves the sun."
His eyes roved her face, and his tongue flickered out to lick his lips. "You're beautiful."
"She's taken," Richard growled as he laid his hand on Lena's shoulder.
"Stop it, both of you. We don't have time for this. It's just the pheromones," she said bitterly. "I haven't...fed...in a bit. They get stronger when I'm hungry. Just keep your distance and it will be fine."
"Pheromones?" John rubbed a hand over his jaw. "Interesting. But there's a problem. If we are about to pile into the SUV and rush back to town, then that's a long time in an enclosed place. Can you shut them off?"
"No," she said tersely. "I wish I could shut it all off!"
"You need to, uh, feed," John said softly. He swallowed hard as she looked him in the eyes.
She flopped down on the sofa, held her head in her hands. "I shouldn't need this. I'm still loaded with power from the concert. It's psychic vampirism. All those kids were so pumped. It filled me so completely I thought I might explode. I shouldn't need blood, too."
Richard stared at her. How could he still want her now? While Anna was in such danger? Was this all really a chemical attraction that grew or fled depending on how hungry she was? Jesus, John was watching her every move, and it wasn't just because he had some fascination for a new species.
Lena's mouth twisted with pain. "I'm so sorry, Richard."
He knew she could feel what he felt and was probably hurt by his confusion. No, it isn't all the chemicals. She was everything he'd ever wanted. He held out one hand to her and tugged open his shirt collar with the other.
"Come on, Lena. I'll take care of you. You have to be the strongest you can be before we get back."
"Wait," John interrupted softly. "He's right. You need to be strong. You're the best chance we have in a fight for Anna. But we need Richard strong, too. You should take my blood." He paused, and his eyes clouded. "If you can. I'm dying."
Richard's mouth fell open in shock. John held up one hand, palm out.
"I know. I haven't told anyone, but I have cancer." He turned to Lena. "I'm dying. I don't know if Richard had told you anything about me. I beat cancer a couple of years ago, but it's back now, and there won't be a second chance at remission. And before you tell me that there's always a second chance, I'll tell you what he never would, even if he knew. I'm ready to die. My wife is gone. I have nothing left, but I adore Anna. If anything happens to that little girl...." Tears had begun to pool in his eyes. "I can't fight. I get winded in minutes. I was going to tell you all this week while you were here. I'm sorry, Richard. This is all I can offer."
Richard reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him into a hard hug.
"Are you taking chemo?" Lena asked quietly. "Some cancer drugs are like poison to us."
"No. No!" The lamplight reflected the tears in Richard's eyes. "I need you. You can't die."
"Yes, I'm going to die. So I know I have to do something now. I have to do the last thing I can for my sister, for my niece. I know very well how Rhonda was murdered. It never made sense to me that she was killed by one of your clients. I'd been to your club and it was never what the police made it out to be. It makes perfect sense that it was a vampire. Her ripped throat, the loss of blood. We can't let that happen to Anna."
He pulled away and walked again to Lena. "I'm not on any drugs. The doctor told me there was no chance, so I just couldn't bring myself to take them again." He licked his lips and swallowed hard, his eyes seemingly caught by the sheen of Lena's lips.
Lena reached out one hand to stroke John's cheek.
Jealousy slammed into Richard hard and fast. The hint of it he'd felt seeing Lena with Drake-that was nothing like this. The image of pack life that he'd seen on the internet haunted him.
"No. I don't want you to take his blood, even if he is dying. He could have years left. He's my family." Richard gripped Lena's arm and pulled her hand from John's face.
"I won't kill him," Lena muttered, her voice cool, her back stiffening. "I don't have to take all of his blood. I can stop if I want to."
John laid his hand over Richard's. "It's all I can do for Anna, Richard."
A shudder ran through Richard. It wasn't just jealousy over this intimate act he'd shared with Lena. That had been tender and loving, but now, his mind tangled images of Rhonda's mutilated body, John's forlorn fatalism, and Lena's hunger. This wasn't feeding to enhance sexual pleasure. This was--
"I can't--" Richard stuttered. "I can't watch this." He dashed from the room.
\*\*\*
Lena stroked the soft skin of John's neck, tracing the line of his jugular as she looked into his eyes. She could feel his arousal and his anger over Anna's abduction. There was only a trace of fear and only a tiny bit of sadness. Visible through the kitchen doorway, Richard's back was to them. He radiated a confusing mess of emotions-jealousy, anger, frustration, guilt, desire, and despair. Interesting that he has to turn his back but he doesn't leave the house. Which emotion holds him here?
John stroked her face. "You have to do this. I need you to get her back, Lena." He leaned in to kiss her.
Sex and blood. They were forever linked for her, and there could be no stopping John's desire. It was the nature of vampirism to make him want her badly. But she couldn't let things go that way. Not with Richard here. Maybe not even if she'd been alone with John. Shock hit her. It was the first time her emotions had stopped her desire to mix sex with feeding.
Lena let her lips brush John's, but she couldn't deepen the kiss. He broke it off suddenly and looked her in the eye. He knew. She could sense his compassion under the thinnest shroud of jealousy. He wanted her, but he knew she only wanted Richard. For a moment, they simply held on to each other. Lena opened herself further to his emotions, drank them in, and sent him her own in return. His eyes widened with comprehension.
She couldn't kill him. It was against everything she now believed, and it was something she could never do to Richard's pack. She sent him a choice, a possibility, a hope. Her soft whisper reached only his ears.
"You could be mine. You could be like me, a vampire. I could teach you to live without killing, to live forever. You could help me fight. Do you want it?" Then swiftly, as he absorbed that tenuous appeal, she placed her lips against his neck, slid her fangs from their sheaths, and bit deeply. John gasped, the sound loud in the room and closely coupled with a low groan from Richard and a soft sob from Sandra. The pair once again stood in the doorway, drawn to the room perhaps against their consciences, but drawn nonetheless.
Blood rushed down her throat. Power flooded her from the blood and the combined emotions in the room. With each deep draft she felt John's desire ripen, his anticipation grow. The moment slowed, for her, for them all, as she and John eased together to the floor.
"Stop!" Richard shouted. "You promised!"
John's voice was weak, his whisper nearly silent. "Yes."
She accepted his decision. With one last swallow she felt his heartbeat stutter. Without judging, without considering any alternative, she ripped her mouth from his life's blood and bit down hard on her own lips and tongue. Her blood mixed with his on her lips, rushing from her pulsing heart. She kissed him. She knew he couldn't help but to kiss her back, to drink in what she offered him. Their tongues met, and he sucked hard at her gift.
He swallowed. Once. Twice. She felt his shock of understanding, and then lost him as he dropped from consciousness.
"Oh, God, you really did it. You've killed him! Right here in his own home, my God," Sandra wailed. Her eyes rolled wildly in shock, her body trembled, and she reeked of fear. "You're a monster."
Richard reached for his mother. Lena's senses, still blasted open by her gift to John, left her vividly aware of Richard's emotions. Despair and fear almost powerful enough to make her retch. They think I'm a monster.
She gently laid John's head to rest on the floor. His body would need some time to adjust before he woke from the mild coma induced by her blood. When he woke he'd be hungry, but she'd feed him from her own blood, at least at first.
She rose from the floor and watched, as well as felt, Richard flinch away from her. She wiped the blood from her lips. Her wounds were already healing. His rejection battered her heart. She turned away and wrapped her arms around herself as she walked toward the door.
"Lena, you can't go." Richard sounded so tired. Like he'd aged a hundred years as he'd watched a man die in her arms. She couldn't face him, and she shut her emotions down as tightly as she could. From the doorway she spoke without turning.
"He isn't dead. Soon, to you, he'll be worse," Her voice trembled as she spoke. "He'll be just like me. A monster. But he won't be dead and he will help us get Anna back."
\*\*\*
So much time had been wasted. Richard tugged impatiently at John's right leg, forcing the unconscious body of his once brother-in-law into the high back seat of the SUV. Lena was already inside, tugging John a little closer. She hadn't spoken a word since telling them she'd changed John. He bit his lip and thought of how she'd told him she could sense feelings. Had she felt how sickened he'd been seeing her drink John's life away?
It didn't matter that John had wanted it. She seemed to accept it so easily. What a mess. Richard had wanted, for just a moment, to be in John's place with Lena's mouth at his throat. What did that make him? And what she was, a vampire, was too much for him. He'd wished she were gone. He'd wished she'd never been there at all. Then she'd told them she'd saved John, not killed him. But John wasn't John anymore. Or was he still the same man inside? They'd all been silent pretty much ever since. Lena didn't look at him anymore, and frankly, he wasn't sure what to say. Hell, he wasn't sure of anything except the need to save Anna. Did she sense that, too?
"Just what the hell are we supposed to do with a brand-new vampire?" he muttered to his mother.
"Hush, Richard. She did what she could. We were both wrong." This from his mother, now sitting in the front seat. The SUV's motor was running, and time was ticking. They'd be lucky to make it to the house before dawn. He'd loaded as many blankets into the Explorer as he could find, just in case they had to cover Lena and now John from the sun.
"I'll take care of him." Lena voice was cool as she twisted her body away. Richard slammed the door shut and shifted to the driver's side of the vehicle. He looked at the house, dark now. They'd barely been here a few hours and everything had changed. Where was Anna?
They drove for two hours before they had to make their first stop for gas. Richard stood beside the backseat window as he grabbed the pump handle, and he caught movement inside.
Richard couldn't tear his eyes from the spectacle. John was on top of Lena, fully clothed but cradled against her like a lover. His mouth pressed against the skin of her neck. A drop of blood escaped his lips. Her eyes were half-closed, but she saw Richard watching the new vampire feed from its maker. Her lips parted.
The front car door slammed and broke the spell. Sandra walked to the side of the SUV and flipped the gas tank cover open, claiming the pump handle from his limp grasp.
"She's...." Desire fought with heartache. His heart pounded in painful harmony with his cock.
"She's doing what she has to. To help him. To help us. It's what she is, Richard." His mother almost sounded as if she believed that.
"Shit. I thought she was a bloodsucking murderer to you." He rubbed a hand over his tired face. "When did you get so generous?"
"The moment she turned away from you in pain, Richard. You might not have said it, but your face spoke volumes for you. You rejected her when she took John. And what choice did she have? Kill him? Take your strength or mine? Ignore us all and leave Anna to those killers?"
"But it's like they don't even see us, like they'd screw in the backseat the entire way there. She's mine, dammit."
She yanked the gas hose from the SUV and slammed it home on the gas console. "Suck it up. They haven't betrayed you. I know you want her. I know what you and Rhonda were like and just who was on top of that marriage. And I know about the club. You were never jealous of Rhonda because you didn't have to be. You called all the shots."
"Not always. Not the night she died. I didn't know where she was going or who she was meeting, and it turned out to be...." Richard shuddered and looked in the backseat again.
His mom rubbed his back. "I know. And it was tragic, and Rhonda's death was horrible. And it left you believing that you couldn't control anything, not even yourself. That everything you had was an illusion. In a way that should have freed you, made you able to see that the strength in your partner becomes an asset for yourself. Rhonda wasn't strong enough, Richard. I know Lena hasn't given you the control you want, but she has the strength to be herself and to save us. Let her choose what has to be done."
His jaw sagged as the truth of her words hit him. He ripped the receipt from the pump but couldn't think of anything to say. Of course he had to be in control. That was a good thing, right? Maybe not. Not if it kept him from seeing the good in others.
His mom walked to her car door but didn't open it yet. "You've just got to handle this, whether there is anything left for a relationship after we get Anna back or not. She is what she is. Maybe she can't be what you want her to be. And maybe that's okay." She looked into his eyes and with a soft smile patted his cheek with a hand that smelled slightly of gasoline.
Richard knew his mother was right, but fuck, it was going to be a long drive. Lena is mine. She is what she is all right, a vampire. But she will be my vampire.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Twenty
Richard staggered under the weight of John's body. Still mostly unconscious, the new vampire couldn't seem to do more than lift his head weakly. Richard had to hurry or the sun would catch them. Dawn had almost arrived. Lena and his mother were ahead of him, moving toward the darkened house.
Richard snarled under his breath, frustrated with John and the world at large. John smelled like Lena, goddamnit, and Richard had an urge to leave him behind. Only thoughts of Anna kept him moving. When Lena and his mother suddenly stopped, Richard knocked into them and tripped over John's leg. His fall forced him to drop John, and both women reeled from the impact.
The front door had been ripped from its hinges.
"What now?" Richard growled.
"There's blood in there," John gasped and forced himself up onto his knees.
Lena walked slowly toward the house, her hands waving in the air in an empty embrace. "There's no one here. Not now." She turned back to face them, her gaze locking on Richard. "There's no way to tell whose blood it is. But I can smell Evan. He was here, tonight, recently."
"Fuck! Was Anna here?" Richard touched the splintered door frame.
"I'm sorry, I can't tell. Her scent is everywhere."
Richard slammed his fist against the wall. She yearned to reach for him, but she couldn't. Not after his rejection at the cottage. Not after she'd hoped for a little while that he might love her as she loved him.
"We need to get inside. John needs to rest and so do I."
"I know." He didn't look at her.
"Can we stay here?" She hated to see him avoid her eyes like this.
"Of course, you can. There's a room in the basement that will be better than the closet."
Was he thinking of their last night together, just as she was? But John had to be her concern now. She'd created him, but God, she wished it could have been Richard snuggled against her for the long drive back to the house. She brushed past him into the dark safety of the empty house.
"Dawn is coming. Anna will be safe for the day." It was all she could offer him.
He followed her in, they all did, and he pointed to the kitchen. "Through there in the pantry, there's a door to the basement. It's a finished basement, but there's a room with no windows at the back. I'll get you some bedding."
"I'll get it," Sandra interjected.
Richard led Lena and John, pointing out the back door and light switches on the way. His mind raced. How could he so desperately want two different things? To rush to find Anna, and to bed down with Lena? She smelled like musk again, so heady and sweet. "Can we find her while Darien and Evan sleep?"
"They could be anywhere." She settled John in the small basement room and then followed Richard into the main room. They needed a moment, and John was simply too tired to move quickly. The change was harder for some than others.
She had no desire for blood, but Richard smelled delicious. She could feel his heat even though they were several paces apart. If she thought about it, she could hear his heart beating, strong and steady and perhaps a touch too fast. She couldn't tell him about the trap or that Darien might still be in the abandoned building. By his nature, He would feel compelled to go to the place in the daylight, without any back-up, facing vampires that would rip him to pieces for disturbing their peace. There was no way he would wait for her and John, no way he'd leave Anna with them for one second longer than he had to. And really, she couldn't blame him, but she also couldn't let him go without her.
She needed to protect him, and she felt fear in her heart at the thought of losing him. She longed for time, even for a moment, to understand these feelings and to show them to the man before her.
She stepped closer and listened to his heart beating harder. Another step and she could hear his quick intake of breath. She trailed her fingers over his chest. His bright blue eyes caught hers. Desire lurked there, and something more, but she wouldn't open herself to find out what that something could be. Not now. He closed the last bit of distance between them and crushed her in a swift embrace.
He kissed her, his mouth hard and demanding. She clutched him to her. "There's no time," he groaned and rested his forehead against hers.
"I know." She leaned against him. "Rest, Richard, while we sleep today. Tonight we'll find her. Tonight it will all be over, one way or another. We'll get her back, no matter what the cost."
"Ahem." John coughed softly to announce his presence. "I'm sorry, Richard. Really. I'm so tired."
"You'll be better by tonight." Lena opened her arms to John, but couldn't miss Richard wince at the action. "John's part of me now, part of my pack. It's the way we are."
John collapsed against her and she held him gently in her arms, stroked a sweaty lock of hair from his face as a mother would for her child in a night filled with bad dreams and fevers.
Richard turned away from them, jealousy and confusion curling loose fingers around his heart. "I'll see you tonight."
\*\*\*
Richard spent an hour in the morning pacing the yard and ranting silently in his mind. He needed to find Anna but there was no way to know where they would hide her. Then he dwelled on the unfairness of his brother-in-law in Lena's arms. Then he remembered his mother's words at the gas pump, frustrating but true.
Finally, his mother came out to the yard and shooed him into the house.
"You have to rest. You won't be able to help tonight if you're exhausted." She propelled him into his bedroom.
"I know, I know. But I can't. Anna is out there, maybe hurt. And Lena and John are curled up in the basement. John will never be the same. He's with her now."
"Maybe it's for the best. He would have died, Richard." She hugged him, her thin body pressed against his in an embrace that comforted him now as much as it had when he was a child.
He ran his hand though his hair. "I thought we had started something special." He sat on his bed, his shoulders slumped.
"I think, from what you've said and what I've seen, that you still have something special. What she has with John is something else."
He cleared his throat. "Where she was before--the vampires run in packs, Mom. They all sleep together and have sex together in groups." He felt a blush warming his face.
"Hmm. And that was so very different than your life with Rhonda. I know very well you both saw other people. I know exactly what kind of club you ran."
Her sarcasm made him blush harder. Does she always have to be so goddamn right?
"Did she ever tell you this was what she wanted, or that she missed it?"
"No," he sighed.
"Then don't judge, and don't guess either. Ask her."
"Well I can't, not now. She's asleep," he said wryly.
"And so should you be." She pressed a hand against his shoulder as if to shove him over and waited for him to lie down. Finally he gave in, stretching out on his bed and closed his eyes to sleep.
He woke at three o'clock. It just was too unnatural for him to sleep through the day. He paced through the house, opening windows to let in the summer breeze. How much longer would he have to wait? He pictured Anna, alone in some dark closet, possibly in pain, certainly frightened.
The chances were damn high that he would never get to tell Lena how he felt about her or to ask her what she wanted. And what did it matter, anyway, compared to Anna's safety? He would sacrifice his own life to save Anna's. Part of him was certain Lena would do the same, despite never having met Anna. How could he have thought that Lena would coolly take John's life? He knew better. It was all so confusing.
He sat in the kitchen, its cheerful yellow walls half-sickening in his current state of mind. A moment later his mother walked into the room, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She met his gaze and walked over to hug him and kiss his forehead.
"Let's eat." She flipped on the front stove burner. From the drawer beneath the stove, she grabbed a pot and filled it with water. "Pasta, I think."
"How can you eat?"
"How could we sleep? We have to or we won't be any good tonight. Deep down, you know it." She removed a package of meat from the refrigerator and dumped it into a frying pan. "Glad I didn't freeze this."
He watched her fix the meal, a simple spaghetti and meat sauce. When she piled his plate high, he didn't comment. They lingered over the meal, eating slowly and silently. At first his stomach rebelled, but he reminded himself he would need the energy to get Anna back. Besides, this could be their last meal. Might as well enjoy it.
"When the time comes, you get Anna and run, Mom." When she said nothing, he looked sharply at her. "I mean it. I need you both as far away as you can get. I need her safe, and I need you safe."
"What about you? Who will keep you safe?"
"We need as much power as possible to pull this off. Lena is our power. John, well, I don't know how much power he will have. Some. And I, I expect to be a distraction so you and Anna can get away."
"So that's the plan," she said dryly, her mouth twisted.
"As much of a plan as I've got." He shoved away from the table, grabbing his plate as he stood. At the sink he stared out the window and into the woods beyond. Shadows were beginning to form. It would soon be dusk. They'd passed the time well at the table. Thank God the waiting would soon be over.
"We have John's gun and Lena's weapons. There are knives here, but it's been a long time since I used one," he muttered, as much to himself as to her.
"I have a gun," she said quietly.
"What?" He raised his eyebrows at her.
"Well, you've been gone a lot. I'll get it."
He caught her arm as she moved to pass him. "I love you, Mom. I'm so sorry that this happened. And that I was away so much."
"You haven't really been here, except for Anna, since Rhonda died, Richard. I'm glad to see you back." A tear on her cheek caught the fading sunlight. He pulled her to him and held her hard.
\*\*\*
Lena woke, her senses thrumming. The bed beneath her shifted lightly as the man beside her muttered in his sleep and pulled her closer. John. She identified him and relaxed. Her pack was growing, whether she wanted it to or not. She'd made John, and that bond gave her both strength and responsibility. This time she would be alpha in truth, not torn by some strange combination of being in control and yet viciously controlled by Darien. This time, she'd started a pack, a family, out of a need for strength and an urge to help, far better reasons than Darien's twisted desires.
She made a slight movement to rise, but John clung to her, nuzzled against her. She felt her body heat at his touch. Guilt stabbed her heart, and John shoved her away.
"Is the guilt yours or mine?" she murmured to him.
"I think Richard loves you." His emotions answered as well. Guilt, remorse, desire.
"So we both share the guilt." She stroked his face and smoothed his short brown hair. He had a fine body, leaner than Richard's, with a dusting of curling brown hair on his chest and running downward in an inviting arrow. "I think I love him, too."
She kissed him then, long and slow, full of promises. He hesitated at first, and then slid his hips closer to hers. She felt his cock, thick and hard, pressing against her thigh.
"Is this what it will be like?" he demanded. "I've got a permanent hard-on. Even Richard's mom is looking, well, delicious."
"You're hungry. You'll learn to control it." She brought her wrist to her lips and nipped open her skin to let a small amount of blood flow for him. He didn't wait for her to offer. He grabbed at it, sucking hard. "We'll work it out after we get Anna back," she said softly.
After a moment she pushed him off. He snarled, but stayed on his side of the bed.
"Sorry, but that's enough. I'll take you hunting if we live through tonight."
"We will," he said flatly, sliding from the bed. "We have to."
She rose from the bed after him, noting a pile of fresh clothing from Richard's mother on a wooden chair near the door. While she pulled on the light underwear, summer jeans and black t-shirt, she reached out with her mind for the first time since she'd changed John, since Sandra had labeled her a monster. The memory made her mouth tighten.
"What?" John was staring at her.
"Nothing. Sandra's upstairs. She's afraid, but determined. Richard is there with her. He's angry, mostly. Afraid for his daughter. Frustrated and jealous."
"You can feel all that?"
"Yeah, I have some psychic ability. It's getting stronger. I'm not sure if that's because I know him better now, or if I'm stronger, or what."
"You don't know why you're changing?" Frown lines marred his face.
"No. And now you're afraid. Don't worry. I can show you how this works. At least to a point."
"Will I--will I kill?"
"You don't have to. You can learn to control it."
"Did you kill?"
"Yes, but I had Darien as a teacher. And Evan. The vampires we're going to face tonight. They weren't exactly interested in being careful with the lives they took, not even mine." She sighed. "I hope this was the right thing to do. You don't know how hard it will be."
John shrugged. "Lena, I was going to die anyway. Now, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll be able to help."
"You're stronger now than ever, John. But you won't be nearly as strong as these guys. You need to leave the fighting to me and get everyone else away. But if I die...." She reached out to touch his shoulder, wanting to impress her next words on him. "If I die, you still don't have to kill. Listen to the music. Be around people. Open yourself, and feel what they feel. You can learn that on your own. I did. If you learn to open yourself to them, the people you feed from, you won't kill them."
She felt the fear in him. He was easy to read, so open. He feared what they were about to do, the fight to come, and he feared he wouldn't be able to control himself. Already he would be craving more blood. She remembered that part all too well.
"Let's go." She opened the door and led the way. "Darien wakes after me, but Evan will be moving soon. I left Darien trapped in an abandoned building last night. That's where we'll start looking for them. Even if they aren't there, we can track them." She slid a hand through her long unbraided hair. She took a moment to fumble through her little purse until she could find elastic, and once again bound her hair tight. John said nothing as he pulled on his own clothes, but she felt his eyes on her.
They climbed the stairs. Richard would probably hear them coming. Lena impelled her senses away from the house, checking the woods behind the lot. She didn't want to feel his emotions when he saw at her emerge from the basement together with John.
Sandra met them in the kitchen. "We're ready."
Lena kept silent. The stench of fear overpowered the faint aroma of Italian meat sauce. They weren't ready. All Darien will have to do is breathe, and he'll know we're coming.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Twenty-one
"They're in there," Lena whispered, hugging Richard's side in the bush outside the fenced yard of the abandoned building. There was plenty of cover. Sandra and John were at two separate vantage spots nearby. It probably wasn't the wisest thing, leaving John on his own so soon, but Lena needed a moment, just a moment with Richard alone.
"Your job is to get Anna, take your mother, and run. Run far this time. Don't stop. If I live I'll be here in a month. Come back then. Darien won't survive either way. Drake will kill Darien if he hunts in New York." She shook her head at him to interrupt before he could say whatever stupid, courageous thing he was about to blurt out. "That's your job, nothing else. Got it?"
"Helena," a voice called out from the brick building.
Lena and Richard started and stared at the blank brick walls. A soft breeze played against her skin. The leaves in the brush shifted with the light breath of air. Not one bird or squirrel stirred in any of the nearby wooden patches. A hunter was prowling.
"Come out and play, Helena." The deep tones were unmistakably Darien's. So he'd managed to break free of the freezer. Lena shuddered. Her sword weighed heavy against her back. Its double edge might be her only one.
"Don't let him get to you, Lena," Richard whispered. "You're stronger than he ever imagined."
"I just want you to know, Richard." She didn't open her senses to him. She couldn't bear to. But she looked at his bright blue eyes and hoped he could somehow feel what she felt for him. "I want you to know that what happened with John, well, it's what happens with vampires. But I feel something for you. Something more than what this blood curse ever brought to me. What happens next won't change that. I love you."
Then she was moving, never looking back, although she heard his desperate whisper and caught the breath of air as his arms grasped at where she'd been moments ago. She jumped the fence and called to Darien. Though adrenaline flooded her body, she felt strangely fearless. She had nothing left to lose but everything to gain.
"So, I'm here. Where are you? Bring out the girl, Darien. You and your puppy shouldn't hide. Come out and play my game!"
"Oh, we'll play, little girl. But first, throw out those nasty little knives of yours. I've already got two here and I'd like a matched set."
"Show me the girl, and I'll give you the rest." Lena held up her remaining sai and one of her knives in the moonlight. The black blade of the sai stayed dull, but the throwing knife glittered coldly in the twilight.
The main door thrust open to reveal Darien. Rage painted his face into an evil mask. He dragged Anna out by one arm, her whimpers clearly audible in the quiet night air. Evan didn't appear. Where was he? Without taking her eyes from Darien, Lena carefully extended her senses to search for Evan. Darien would expect her to have help, at least from Richard, so Evan would likely be out searching for her helpers. She hoped to hell he got a terrible shock when he found them.
She nearly jumped when she found him directly behind her, hidden in the woods not far from where she and Richard had crouched moments before.
"Throw out your sword, Helena." Darien shook Anna's tiny body, exposing more of her injuries to Lena. Dried blood matted her hair and deep purple bruises ran the side of her face. She couldn't see any bite marks, but that didn't mean there weren't any. Lena looked harder at Darien and was relieved to see he still looked filthy. And possibly tired. He'd obviously spent much of the night trying to get out of her little trap. He'd be weaker now.
"And here I didn't think you knew about that, lover. After all, you've always been so self-absorbed you couldn't see what was going on right under your nose," Lena taunted. She drew her sword slowly from its sheath behind her back. She twirled it in her hand, flaunting her skill in front of him.
"You little bitch! You'll be under my nose and on your knees soon enough."
"Going to stand behind your little shield all night, lover?" She laughed, her soft chuckles low and sultry. Sweat beaded at the base of her neck under her long hair, but Darien would never see it there, or hear it in her voice. She was damn sure of that.
"Throw down that sword or I'll kill her now!" Darien roared.
Enough was enough. Her senses were spread widely through the surrounding woods and the building. She knew exactly where everyone was, and that the tension was about to explode. Slowly, she lay the sword down on the ground in front of her.
The moment the blade touched the ground, it was as if a signal flare had been fired into the air. Everyone reacted at once. She felt the emotion flowing from behind her and anticipated Evan's attack. She'd barely had time to recognize the flicker of hesitation on his part when shots rang out. Richard had fired at Evan.
Richard would know that bullets weren't going to kill Evan, but they could slow him down. Instead Evan's hesitation morphed into wrath as he turned to attack the man who'd fired at him. Lena shook off the compulsion to race back to help Richard. She flipped her toes under the edge of her sword and flung it into the air with a practiced kick.
Darien rolled into her attack, flinging the tiny child from him with force. Lena saw Anna hit the brick wall and crumple, but there was no time to watch the little girl land in the dust. Darien attacked, kicking Lena soundly in the chest. Thrown to the ground by his power, Lena rammed at her old master with her mind, hurling at him all her hatred and frustration. Where once he would have simply landed on her and ripped her belly open, now he staggered. She took the opportunity to slash at him from the ground, slicing open his filthy jacket and the skin across his ribs with the tip of her blade.
He jumped back out of reach. She leaped up into a fighting stance. Her heart pounded, and her grin widened. Sounds of fighting carried from the woods behind her. John had joined Richard in battling Evan. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sandra dart forward to retrieve Anna. We're doing it!
"You could come back as my true alpha, Helena." Darien spoke softly. "You're powerful enough now. Or not."
As she listened to his voice, he moved so fast, she almost missed it. He used her own sai against her, thrusting it as he closed in on her. The side tines caught and held her sword, while at the same time he smashed a fist into her face. She reeled as a second blow slammed into her, but she held her place.
He's so goddamned fast. He gouged her ribs with the free tine of the sai in his attempt to wrest her sword from her hands. She moaned.
"My, but this is sweet. The scent of your blood in the summer breeze." Darien mocked her as his brute strength slowly overwhelmed her, forcing her sword arm down.
"Fuck you," she grunted as she struggled.
"You did, every way I liked it. And I've finally remembered something delicious. Your lover's little wife, Rhonda--I believe that was her name."
Her horror must have been evident on her face, because he grinned.
"Just shut up!" she snarled.
"Oh, no, I don't think so. Your lover would like to know what a good little slave she finally made. He tried to make her submit completely, and she tried to obey, but it took my special touch to command her final surrender." He loomed even closer to her, defying the proximity of the weapons they struggled over. "My special touch." He laughed, the sound full of malice. "She gave me everything."
\*\*\*
Richard clasped a hand over the wound in his arm. Where the hell did that bastard go? Evan had sliced him with either a knife or claws, he wasn't sure. John had been there, snarling and leaping on the vampire's back like something from a horror movie. But John was gone now, too. Screams ripped through the air and Richard staggered forward to see what was happening.
There. His mother sheltered Anna against the wall of the building, trapped by the fights taking place in front of them. Evan struggled with John, his greater power gaining the upper hand against John's desperation. Nearby, Lena took blow after blow from the huge blonde vampire, Darien. Richard dashed for the fence, again cursing the fact that he couldn't get over it in a single bound as Lena had.
"Lena!" he screamed as he watched Evan bodily throw John into the middle of her struggle.
\*\*\*
"Lena!" a voice screamed as a body--whose?--smashed into them, knocking her free of Darien's powerful grip. That freedom came with a price, though, as a powerful backhand blew her off her feet. She blinked to clear the blood flowing across her eyes. It isn't mine! A scream ripped from her throat as she saw John, her fledgling, broken and thrashing on the ground.
Her fingers tingled numbly. She'd lost her sword to Darien's blow. He still clutched her sai, and as he grinned at her unarmed condition, his fangs glinted wetly at her. She dove for the sword but he kicked her away, beyond reach of its length on the ground.
She lashed out at him again with all the emotion she could muster. He shook his head and staggered under the onslaught. It was the distraction she needed, and she turned to grab her sword, but it was gone.
Richard stood behind the vampire. Lena couldn't imagine how he'd made it past Evan. He gripped her sword in his hand and didn't hesitate as he swung at Darien. As he lunged, Darien parried. Perhaps he'd heard Richard, or perhaps he'd seen him reflected in Lena's eyes. He jumped, and what would have been a killing blow sliced the back of one knee. Blood spurted and Darien went down.
With his fangs fully extended, he reached for Richard.
Lena dove for Darien, no longer caring about protecting herself. She slammed her remaining knife into his gut and lodged it there. With every ounce of power she possessed, she screamed at him, slamming into his mind with her fury. He howled in pain, the sound ringing in the night air. She grabbed his hair and thrust his head back. He fell to his knees. Without a thought, she ripped into his throat with her fangs, shredding his veins till blood spurted.
She gorged herself until he twitched beneath her.
\*\*\*
Richard stared in shock, Lena's sword hanging limply in his hands. The woman he loved abandoned her knife in the vampire's chest and with a snarl bit into his neck again and again, ripping it open into a bloody mess.
The violence of the act stunned Richard. Her eyes were wild. It was clear she saw nothing and felt nothing but a potent rage as she tore into the vampire. Blood bathed her face and hair. Minutes ticked by as Lena gorged. She savaged him until at last he died in her arms.
"My god," Richard gasped.
He couldn't peel his eyes from the vision before him. John lay unmoving nearby. Lena, triumphant and lethal, snarled at Evan, who turned on his heel and fled, his long hair streaming behind him. Blood seemed to have coated her entire body.
Finally, John stirred and snapped Richard from his trance. Relief washed over him that his brother-in-law had survived. But the soft sound of sobbing jerked his attention away. His mother was crying over his daughter's body. He dragged himself over the yard toward them, floundering until his steps became a kind of falling run in his desperation to reach his child.
"Anna, oh, baby. Is she badly hurt?" He fell to his knees and ran his hands over her small, still body. Tears streamed down his face.
"A concussion, I think. I don't see any bite marks," his mother answered, her voice hushed as she looked over at Lena and cringed.
Richard pulled Anna tightly to his chest for a moment. When he heard her soft moan, he shuddered and almost cried out in relief. "Baby, I'm here. It's going to be okay."
"Vampires, Daddy. They were vampires. I told you the books were important. They saved me."
"Shh, love. It's over. The bad vampires are all dead." Richard's voice broke as he rocked Anna in his arms and looked over at his mother.
"Get her out of here. Get her to a hospital. John, can you go with them?"
"Yes. I'll be okay. I need to get away from here right now, anyway." John avoided looking at Lena at all.
Richard struggled to his feet. The deep cuts in his left arm throbbed with pain. He kissed Anna's unconscious form and handed her to John. It was hard to watch them walk away, even if they were walking toward help.
It was over.
"Richard," Lena called to him.
He closed his eyes. Maybe it would never be over.
Dark Harmony: Chapter Twenty-two
Richard's heart throbbed with pain. Lena stood unmoving over what was left of Darien's body. He stared at her and she looked back, her face stricken. He didn't know where Evan had run to, and he didn't care. He could hear his own labored breath and feel its heat in the air between them, the only movement in the blackened night now that John and his mother had taken Anna to the hospital.
Lena stepped toward him but he stepped back, his hands thrown up between them, a flimsy barrier for a vampire. She didn't just kill Darien. She ripped him to pieces.
She still had his blood on her face.
"I understand if you can't handle this right now." Her voice wavered, sounding frail in the stillness. She wiped slowly at her stained mouth.
"Handle this? Lena, you shredded him." He chopped the sentence off with a slash of his hand.
Richard's breath came in short, ragged pants. The hair on the back of his neck still stood erect. He shuddered as he remembered the sight of her mouth on Darien's neck, the look of pleasure and pain on Darien's face as he died. Her body contained overwhelming power. He couldn't turn his back on her, couldn't trust himself not to run if he tried to walk away.
"I would never hurt you," she insisted. "You know that. I vowed never to kill again, but I did, for you. For you and for Anna, and for me. For my freedom." Tears coursed down her cheeks, mingling with the blood.
She picked up the long black sword from the ground. Its length gleamed wetly from the bloody battle. She twisted her wrist, cutting death through the air. In a long biting arc she brought the blade down and severed her former master's head from his body. It twitched in a parody of life, but Lena had drained that earlier. There was, in truth, no life left to be lost. Just an ending.
Richard's heart ached. He shut his eyes. She was telling the truth. She'd nearly died twice now to protect him and his daughter. But being near Lena could put Anna in jeopardy. As much as he wanted Lena, he had to think of Anna first. Other vampires could be attracted to Lena's power and want to join her pack. Those strangers would be dangerous.
The distant sound of a vehicle filtered into his consciousness. They weren't alone here, despite the illusion of being the last two people left in the world. Other people could happen upon the scene at any time. And it was soon going to be dawn. Lena must hide from the sun.
Remembering her limitations freed him. She could die just like anyone else. He looked at her tear-stained face and saw the desperation in her eyes. Bruises had already begun to darken her cheekbones and jaw. She must be in pain from those last few blows from Darien.
"It's almost dawn," he whispered. "Time for you to sleep."
"Please, Richard," she begged.
"I need some time. Come to my house tonight. We'll talk more then."
She shivered now, the first time he could remember seeing her do that. It wasn't from the cool night air. He knew she didn't mind that.
"I think you should know." She hesitated. "You should know that it was Darien. I don't know when he did it or how he came to be at your club. But he did it, Richard. He killed your wife."
A gust of wind caught her long hair, now half loose from its braid, and threw flakes of soot into the air. Darien's body was eroding quickly. The ashes that were once a powerful vampire were now being blown across the darkened lot. Richard stared down at the remnants. When he looked up, Lena was gone.
\*\*\*
Lena rocked back and forth on her knees. The crisp scent of clean linen surrounded her in the dark confines of the small room. She'd run to New Hope Martial Arts. Where else could she go? And Drake needed to know sooner or later what had happened. He'd need to know Evan was still alive and possibly still in his territory. Drake had opened his door, taken one look at her in her blood-soaked clothes, and ushered her inside to bathe and rest. Talk, he said, could wait until tomorrow night.
Sleep, usually inevitable, eluded her. It would have to come soon and wash away the pain of Richard's rejection in black relief. If it didn't, she would fling herself into the sunlight.
For years she'd managed to forget this kind of heartache. But in loving Richard she'd opened her heart to pain. She knew her body and its needs, but she hadn't known her heart until she'd looked at his face tonight. Until he'd seen her kill.
Monster.
Her stomach heaved and the blood rose up into her throat. Never had her limbs felt this powerful or her senses this strong. The blood of another alpha vampire was like jet fuel, so powerful that it was nearly toxic. Before tonight she'd taken only the tiny sips that Darien had allowed during sex, barely enough to maintain her alpha status. The beating she'd taken tonight might have killed her if she hadn't drained every drop from Darien. Already she could feel her ribs knitting back together.
She put a shaking hand to her mouth. The flight to New Hope had nearly been exactly that--she'd nearly been airborne. She'd always wanted the power to fly, and taking Darien's life had all but given her that. Only now she would have no one to share the experience with. Richard would surely tell her, after he'd had a moment to get over the shock, that he could never allow a killer near his daughter.
She wouldn't get to watch Anna grow up or share another treasured moment alone with Richard. Even John had abandoned her in the face of her slaughter. The urge to climb the stairs out of New Hope's safe room grew stronger. She would see the sunlight one more time, and then her life would be forfeit.
As she made that decision, black sleep stole over her and robbed her of the power to act on her choice.
\*\*\*
Richard woke in his bed and for a minute was uncertain how he had gotten there. He'd half-expected Lena to be beside him when he awoke. The crisp cotton sheets felt cold without her. Even the room seemed smaller. Would that be what his life would feel like if he let her slip away?
John slept in the basement. If Richard could have a fledgling vampire in the guest apartment, could he have a queen vampire in his bed?
The sun drove little arrows of light into the air through the bedroom window. Lena had slept with him in this bed only two nights ago, although it felt like months ago. For a moment he let himself imagine that he could smell her perfume, cinnamon and musk. Even imagining the fragrance made his cock thicken.
He rolled over, purposefully ignoring his body's response whenever Lena entered his thoughts. But he couldn't ignore the memories. He rolled back again to idly stroke his thick shaft.
"God," he groaned aloud.
Should he be ignoring his response this way? He'd accepted the fact that Lena was a vampire, but also that she would never hurt him or Anna. He believed she wouldn't harm anyone, for that matter, if there was any choice. Should he ignore what his body was saying--keep her, love her?
Then there was John to consider. Where would he fit in? There was no denying the fact that John and Lena had a relationship of some kind now. Could Richard share her as he'd shared Rhonda? Could he bring himself to accept another man making love to her, perhaps even here in his house?
Nope. That was stretching it too far, at least today. But if he didn't do something, then he wouldn't have any part of Lena's life. His heart hurt at the thought, and the throbbing in his cock reminded him he was out of his mind to let her go.
Lena would arrive soon. He rolled back to look at the digital alarm clock beside the bed. Shit! Lena would probably arrive in less than an hour.
Richard flung back the covers and jumped out of the bed, suddenly resolved. There was no way he was letting the sexiest woman he'd ever met get away. They would deal with whatever happened together.
Hauling on the pair of jeans he'd discarded at the foot of the bed at dawn, Richard studied his bedroom. It had been a long time since a woman had shared a room with him. There would have to be some changes. Empty a few drawers, clean out the closet. But most importantly, the clear glass window and the view to the sunny backyard would have to go.
\*\*\*
As Lena began the long swim up toward consciousness, her senses slowly awakening, she groaned.
The thoughts of suicide that had dominated her dreams now angered her. What had she been thinking? She would damn well make that man come to his senses. She loved him, and he loved her. She would never hurt Anna. And she was bloody well never spending another night alone like the last one.
She stood and slowly stretched. Thank God Drake had given her a shower and fresh clothing. The simple linen shorts and matching top were elegant, a far cry from how she'd been living lately. She wondered what he'd thought when she'd arrived covered in the blood of her own maker.
"To hell with it," she grumbled. He'd just have to get over it.
She patted her hair. The braid was coming loose again, so she fixed it as she headed for the door. It was early evening, in that moment of purple twilight that was as close to sunshine as she would ever see again. Her first desire was to go to Richard and see Drake again later. She took the stairs four at a time. That plan dashed apart as she nearly bumped into Drake on the stairwell.
"Oh," she gasped. As usual she couldn't feel any emotion from him, just the sense of power and possibly amusement, although that was as faint as the tang of smoke in his cologne.
"Good evening. Leaving so quickly?" He gripped her elbow and she marveled at his power. Despite the fact that she was more powerful than she'd ever been in her life, she couldn't have gotten away if she tried.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dash out...." She trailed off as he led her to a traditional Japanese sitting room, complete with paper screens, silk hangings, and a low table set with tea.
"Sit, please." He released her and waved to one side of the table.
"Thank you." Leaving now wouldn't be very gracious, but having tea now was the last thing she wanted. I want Richard. Still, the man deserved some respect, and certainly many thanks for sheltering her last night.
Drake sat opposite her and made the tea. She said nothing, but watched carefully as he whisked the tea leaves in the pot with a thick bristle brush and finally offered her a cup.
"Things have changed," he stated as he placed his cup on the table. "You are now a master. Your pack grows. And you have killed your maker."
"How do you know all this?" Lena's eyebrows crept upward.
"I know because you came here stinking of it all." He waived a hand as she started to apologize. "You did what you had to do. I know. But now there's a new hunter in my territory. I can't have a killer wandering about uncontrolled in my own backyard."
Lena's mouth went dry, the bitter green tea suddenly choking her. She couldn't let Drake consider her family a threat. "John will stay with me. I'll make sure he never kills."
"I'm sure you will. But the other one, the one that came with your maker, now runs free in New York."
"Evan," she breathed.
"You had feelings for him?"
Drake watched her with heavy eyelids. She didn't want to look at those odd pupils too closely. She swallowed and chose her words carefully.
"Evan was my second, the pack's bloodhound. He killed many people, but always at the direction of our maker. In many ways, we were both powerless against Darien. I think he could change if he was shown the way."
"Could he, truthfully?" He stared at her, his stillness unnerving.
"I can't really say, as I didn't get the chance to try. But yes, I think he could."
"We'll see what he does, now that he's on his own."
"I need to thank you--"
"No, you're following your nature, as are we all." He smiled at her like a father to a child. "Go to your human friend. I think he's ready."
She reached to touch him, to thank him with the gesture, but he shifted out of her reach. She nodded instead and walked carefully past the paper screens and out the door, leaving New Hope behind her. She didn't understand Drake any better after their talk, but she believed they could coexist in peace. He was a puzzle that someone else would have to solve.
Power flowed through her, her feet flying faster and faster as she ran toward Richard. To hell with anyone who saw her.
The little house stood as she remembered it. Richard, or someone, had taken the time to repair the front door smashed by Darien and Evan during Anna's kidnapping. She rang the bell and then paced impatiently before the front door.
Where was he? Cautiously, she tried the doorknob. It was unlocked.
"Hello?" She pushed open the door and walked into the entry hall. "Richard?"
And there he was. Her voice dropped an octave when she saw him. He'd showered and shaved. The nape of his neck was still wet and his denim shirt clung here and there to his torso where it was still damp. The scent of his shaving cream added spice to the air.
His arms hung loosely at his sides. He was relaxed and his emotions reached out to her like never before. He wanted her. He wanted her in his bed, but also in his life. It was more than lust. Even as she thought the words that matched the feeling, he spoke them aloud to her.
"I love you."
"I love you, too." Her anger, her stress, all the negative feelings she'd suffered through over the last few days melted away. When he raised his arms to her, she entered his embrace with a sigh. He pulled her against him and led her deeper into the house. They walked together into his bedroom.
At the sight of the boarded up window, she laughed. "Crude, but it'll do."
Their lips met while the laughter lingered in the air around them. Between breaths the mirth grew into something more serious but no less joyful. Still smiling, Lena stroked his back, enjoying the play of his muscles under her hands. He groaned into her mouth. The vibrations of his throaty moan sent shudders of desire straight from her lips to the tips of her breasts.
He lowered her across the thick green comforter on his bed and covered her body with his. He licked her lips, sucking and nipping at them, breathing in her scent as he rubbed his cheek against hers.
There were no more words. None were needed. She sighed then gasped as he licked the sensitive folds of her ear. His moist breath triggered waves of heat within her. She dug her fingers into his hair, grasped the curls, and pulled him far enough away so that she could reach his lips. She kissed him harder than he'd kissed her. She needed to.
She'd had a long time to worry. Would his reaction to seeing her kill become a permanent rejection? Would he think she'd be a threat to his daughter? Would he resist sharing her with John now that John was in her pack? Now, even as he told her he loved her, even as he showered her with gentle caresses, she needed more.
"Tell me again, Richard."
"I love you. You're mine, Lena. You will always be mine."
"I will always be yours." She stilled for a moment. "I could give you forever, Richard. I could give you everything that I am, and we could love like this, forever."
He touched her hair with his gentle hands while she bathed in an outpouring of his tender emotions, so delicate that they felt like butterflies and hints of cinnamon.
"I can't, Lena. I can't become what you are. Anna is just a child, a human child who needs to breathe and live and grow, and who needs a father in the daytime as well as in the night. One who can share her humanity with her."
"I understand." And she did. Anna had already lost her mother to vampires. She couldn't also lose her father. Not yet. "But when she's grown, my love, my offer will still be here for you."
He nodded and sighed, but she could see something more in his eyes. The future. Their future. Someday they would come back to this question, and then his answer would be different. She was content to wait for Anna to grow up, as long as they were together.
She tasted him, dipping her tongue into his mouth and opening her senses to him. Desire, love, and so much more filled her heart. She seduced him with her lips, holding him to her, she hoped forever. He stroked her body, pinching her nipples, teasing her enough that she had to urge him to give her more. She ran her hands down his sides to his hips and clenched the tight muscles in his ass.
He growled and nudged her thighs open. Passion throbbed between them. Love wasn't lost. It beat in time with their partnered hearts and desires. He slid down her body to press his lips to her throat, and brushed his fingers along the edge of her linen top. Lined with silk, it teased her nipples as he tugged the buttons open. She lay naked beneath it. There'd been no bra with Drake's gift of clothing.
Richard raised his body to look down at her. Wordlessly he tugged at her braid, releasing her long black locks to spread it across the deep green of his bedspread. He touched her cheek, her lips. She shut her eyes with delight, only to have them fly open as he licked at one nipple and fingered the other.
"Close your eyes again."
She complied, reveling in his sudden focus on her pleasure. Power resonated in his voice. She knew what he was, the very thing she'd run from. A master. Her master. He expected her to obey, and her excitement and her pleasure increased when she did. She wanted to please him. Unlike Darien, he treasured her. He possessed her without demeaning her.
Her soft whimpers filled the quiet night as he pinched her nipple and sucked hard on the other. She opened her thighs wider to wedge him against her, curling her legs around him so that she could hold his hard length against her pussy. Dampness christened her thin underwear.
She kneaded the thick muscles of his back and ground her hips against his, her clit against the pressure of his cock. Heat flared stronger, bringing her high up the peak toward climax. She moaned his name and gasped a quick prayer. "Please, Richard."
He simply kissed her begging lips and reached for the button of her shorts. The muted sound of her zipper might have been the best sound she'd heard all night. She rocked wildly in his arms as he slid his finger inside the edge of her panties, toying with the soft skin of her pussy lips. She panted as he slid one digit inside her, then another, fucking her slowly with his fingers until she clenched him tight with the power of her orgasm.
The intensity of the moment shook her. He owned her, surely, body and soul, as she came for him. She was completely subject to his will as she'd never been for Darien. It was not dominance but love that coaxed her to surrender. For the first time in her life, she had no doubt that in surrendering she gained something more powerful than control.
\*\*\*
Richard felt her release and her surrender. This was a moment he'd been waiting for. One that matched the feeling he'd had for her in his heart. This beautiful woman, so foreign, so strong, was his. She trusted him completely and he wouldn't betray that, not for any reason.
"Now it's your turn." She grinned up at her lover, her love.
"Shh. Roll over. Get up on your hands and knees."
She rolled, her sweet silken skin a temptation he had no intention of resisting. He smiled to himself, but kept the iron in his voice. She needed to offer herself up to him, and it was his responsibility to fulfill her fantasies and completely satisfy her.
"Spread your knees. Show me your beautiful sex." He ran his hand over the curve of her ass. "Lower yourself to your elbows and offer yourself to me."
When she did as he asked, he noted that the tips of her nipples grazed the sheets. Perfect.
"Tell me what you want, Lena."
"I want you to fuck me, Richard. Fill me up with your cock."
"I will, lover. When it's time. Now stay right there." Walking away from her was nearly impossible, but at least he didn't have far to go. A bucked of ice on the bedside table chilled a bottle of champagne. He struggled for control, worked on forcing himself to wait. And then quickly he pulled his clothes off, grateful to free his straining cock.
He pulled the bottle free and popped the cork, grinned as she jerked at the sound. The champagne frothed over, and he held it over her supine body, allowing the frothing bubbles to flow over her ass and along the line of her spine. She gasped and squirmed at the cool sensation, moaned for him.
"Richard, please."
"That sounds so good, Lena. Beg me again." He set the bottle back in the bucket and grabbed a handful of ice.
"Please." Her voice cracked as he bent to tongue her tight, puckered ass, savoring the taste of champagne and her twitch as he slowly licked her with his tongue.
"Richard! Please."
He took an ice cube and stroked the slick line of her pussy. She jumped and bucked and he thrust his tongue against her, penetrating the tight channel of her ass. Her cry rang out, hoarse and excited. He slid the ice cube into her pussy and fucked her ass with his tongue. She shuddered against him but held her position. His heart swelled with pride and satisfaction as she continued to obey his command.
A second ice cube followed the first. He traced the curve of her hip and brought his other hand to his mouth, wetting his fingers. Carefully he pressed one finger inside her ass as he straightened behind her. She moaned, pushing back against him.
He rubbed his cock against the cool wetness of her pussy. The ice added both an enticement and a restriction. As it melted inside her, it chilled her skin, and the coolness gave him the extra control he needed to ensure he would last as he brought her to a pinnacle of submission.
He thrust deep, long, and hard. She howled at the sensation, his heat, the ice, the double penetration of cock and finger. He fought not to howl, too, as she clenched around him. He thrust again, and again, and lost himself. His orgasm slammed though him, and as the heat spurted deep inside her, she came around him.
He sagged and fell to one side, pulling her down against him. She groaned, deep and low, the tone filled with satisfaction. She was his. Only one thing was missing. That final moment when she submitted in the way that only she could.
"Lena," he murmured into her hair, "bite me."
"What?" She stared up at him with huge hazel eyes.
"I want you to bite me. Take my blood. Please me this way."
She touched her lips to his neck and bit. He felt the pain bloom into pleasure as she swallowed a single time, sending ecstasy through them both. She laid her trembling hands against his neck where her fangs had pierced him. He ran his hands over the glory of her body. He pushed the silken head of his cock into her heat. Her groan of pleasure vibrated into him, as deeply as he was buried.
"I love you, Lena," He whispered against her earlobe. "I need you with me, forever."
"I love you. I'm yours."
She shuddered as he thrust deeper again and again. The steady pulse of their hearts as they made love sounded a rhythm, and their soft moans met in gentle harmony. The music of love grew again between them, softly first, then soaring, a crescendo of emotion and pleasure that filled their hearts and souls.
THE END
About The Author:
Lilly Cain loves romance and the freedom erotic fantasy provides her imagination. She loves the chilling moments in her novels as much as the steaming hot interludes. She finds her stories are an escape and a release from everyday family living--as much as she loves her family, writing allows her to fly alone. She hopes that they can give you that power, too. Feel free to drop her at note at lilly@lillycain.com
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Table of Contents
Dark Harmony: Chapter Thirteen
Dark Harmony: Chapter Fourteen
Dark Harmony: Chapter Seventeen
Dark Harmony: Chapter Eighteen
Dark Harmony: Chapter Nineteen
Dark Harmony: Chapter Twenty-one

