Bittersweet Blood (9 page)

“What else?”

“Me. Now be a good girl and close your eyes.”

Tara closed her eyes. She sensed the movement as he came to stand behind her, so close his breath feathered through her hair. A hand stroked the soft skin of her neck. She shivered at the touch, and heat flared low in her belly as her body remembered the feel of him. He brushed aside her hair to bare the side of her throat and his lips pressed against her. He kissed her neck softly, opening his mouth against her. His sharp teeth scraped her skin, and she stiffened. “Christian—”

“Shh,” he murmured against her throat. “I’m not going to bite. Relax.”

She tried, but relaxing really wasn’t an option with his hands gliding up her body, skimmed her belly. They hovered over her breasts, hardly touching, but lightly grazing. Her nipples tightened, and she groaned. His hands again. It took her a moment to realize he was lifting the necklace over her head.

“It’s off. Open your eyes.”

He came to stand in front of her, her necklace dangling from one finger. His eyes met hers and something close to horror flashed across his face.

“What is it?”

He thrust the necklace at her. “Put it back on.” His voice was harsh and strained.

“Why?”

“Don’t argue, just put the necklace back on. Now.”

She took it from him with trembling fingers and lifted it back over her head. Christian turned away, his back rigid, his fists clenched at his side.

“What is it?” When he didn’t answer, she touched his shoulder. He flinched. “Christian, you’re frightening me. Tell me what you saw.”

For a moment he stayed where he was, his broad shoulders rigid with tension. He took a deep breath and relaxed. When he turned, his expression was blank.

“I didn’t see anything.”

“I don’t believe you. If you don’t tell me, I’ll take it off again.”

“Don’t do that until we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

“But what’s it doing?”

“It’s hiding something. Or rather masking something.”

“What—”

He held up his hand. Tara bit her lip but shut up.

“I don’t know,” he said. “That’s the truth. When you take it off, it’s as if you’re transmitting some sort of message, but who’s picking it up or why, I don’t know. And until I find out, you keep it on.”

A cold lump settled in Tara’s stomach. She’d seen something bordering on fear in Christian’s eyes. What the hell did it take to scare a vampire? She thought about pushing it, but his expression was closed, and she knew he wouldn’t tell her anything more. Instead, she forced herself to think through the options. “I’m not sick or anything, am I?”

He smiled. It was faint, but a smile nevertheless. “Nothing like that. Was that the first time you’ve removed it?”

“No, I took it off when I was leaving Yorkshire. I was upset—I’d found out most of what my aunt had told me was lies. I was going to leave it behind with everything else from that life. It was almost impossible, but I managed to take it off and hang it from the gatepost. I was halfway down to the village, and ran all the way back and put it on again. In the end, I couldn’t leave it—it was the only thing I had from my mother.” Her legs trembled, and she sank onto the sofa. “Do you think it matters that I took it off?”

“Probably not.” He smiled. She knew it was supposed to be a reassuring smile, but it didn’t work.

“What do we do next?” she asked.

“We need to go to Yorkshire.”

“I don’t want to go to Yorkshire.”

“I think I should take a look around. See if I can get a sense of what went on there. What your aunt actually was and how she came to be. We’ll go tomorrow night. There is one more thing we can do tonight. I’d rather go alone, but it might help if I have the locket, and as you can’t take it off, you’ll have to come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“The Order.”

A shiver of excitement ran through her. Graham had said the Order was ultra-secret. There would be vampires and maybe other things. But why would Christian take her there now? What was so important about the talisman?

The familiar weight of the locket comforted her, but she couldn’t shake the conviction that Christian knew more than he was saying. And what he knew wasn’t good.

“Just one thing,” Christian said. “When we get to the Order—”

“Yes?”

“Don’t do anything and don’t say anything.”

Chapter Eight

The drive to the Order took them along the embankment beside the river Thames, where the lights of the pleasure cruisers glinted on the water. Then past the London Eye, the giant Ferris wheel that rotated languidly above the city, and into the business district. They finally turned down a ramp and pulled into an underground parking garage.

Christian glanced at his passenger as he switched off the ignition. She’d finally stopped shaking. She was rattled and who could blame her? He was rattled himself.

He took a risk bringing her here—Piers wouldn’t like it—but he wanted one of the Order’s witches to take a look at Tara’s talisman. Maybe a witch would be able to identify the warlock who’d made the charm. They often left some sort of signature easily recognizable by others of their kind.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”

He was about to get out when she put her hand on his arm. She licked her lips, her small pink tongue flicking out, and he remembered the taste of her; hot and sweet with just an underlying hint of bitterness to balance. Addictive, and he wanted more. Much more.

As the memory washed over him, he had a sudden flashback to the good part of the evening. The earlier part before he’d made a huge error of judgment and decided that getting down to business was the sensible move. He should have just kissed her some more. They might be in his bed now, not in an underground car park about to face six-foot-four of pissed off vampire.

“Christian?”

“Sorry, I was miles away.” Back in his bed with Tara sprawled naked on top of him. “What is it?”

“I wanted to thank you.”

He smiled. “I’m just doing my job. It’s what you hired me to do.”

She searched his face. “Is it just a job?”

She appeared so young and so uncertain that he leaned across and kissed her on the mouth. It had been meant as a reassurance but instead of the quick kiss he’d intended, his lips lingered against hers, relishing the taste of her.
Definitely addictive.
Finally, he remembered where he was and drew back.

“Does that answer your question?” he asked.

She licked her lips again as if tasting him, and heat flared in his groin.

She nodded. “Let’s go.” Without waiting for him, she opened the car door and jumped out. Christian sat a minute longer, willing his body under control, then followed her.

He’d called Piers from the car, and someone waited at the elevator to escort them. Tara sized up the guard.

“Is everybody here a vampire?” she asked quietly.

“Not everybody, but most of the agents. We’re actually here to see a witch.”

“Ella?

Christian frowned.

“Graham mentioned her,” she said.

He made a mental note to have a word with Graham. Though he
had
told him to tell Tara whatever she asked.

“Hopefully not Ella,” he replied.

“Why? Graham told me you used to be close.”

Yes, he was definitely going to have a word with Graham. “Not that close,” he said. “And a long time ago.” Why was he worried that Tara might believe him involved with Ella?

“Ella is not a big fan of mine anymore. But the Order employs other witches. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

The elevator came to a halt, and the doors opened. Piers waited for them and, as expected, didn’t look happy. Without speaking, he whirled and strode off down the corridor.

Christian put a hand to Tara’s waist. He directed her after Piers, glancing down at her once or twice as they moved through the building. It was obvious she tried to be subtle as she stared—and failed totally.

Piers led them into his office and slammed the door.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” he demanded. “You know it’s against Order policy to bring unmarked humans.”

Tara stood straight and stared back, but Christian smelled her fear. And that meant so could Piers.

“Unless,” Piers continued, “you plan to kill her afterward.” He grinned as the little color in Tara’s face fled. “I could take care of that little job if you like.”

“Piss off, Piers.” Christian turned to Tara. “Go sit over there for a moment while I talk to this moron.”

Tara frowned at the command, but decided now was not the time to exert her independence. She sat on one of the leather and steel chairs in front of Piers’s desk.

“I want one of the witches to have a look at her talisman,” Christian explained. “Maybe they can identify who worked the charm.”

“What do you think it’s doing? And why’s a human wearing such a charm?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“Okay, but you’re going to wipe her memory of all this, aren’t you?”

Across the room, Tara stared at the floor, hands clasped tight on her lap. As though she sensed his attention she glanced up and smiled, and something shifted inside him. Something he had never expected to feel.
Certainly not for a human.

“Perhaps. When this is over.”

“You need to mark her, Christian.”

“I’m not sure she’ll agree.”

Piers stared at him in total amazement. “If I explain what will happen if she doesn’t agree—she’ll agree.”

Christian stilled. His eyes narrowed and his gums ached as his fangs elongated. “Don’t touch her,” he growled.

“Perhaps you should explain then. It’s the one safeguard we have against the humans turning on us. There can be no exceptions.”

Piers spoke the truth, but the time was coming to an end when they could live in secret among humans. They should plan how to move forward when that time came rather than cling to the old rules. It was an argument he had had with Piers many times.

“I’ll talk to her, but alone.”

Piers nodded. “I’ll go speak with Ella.”

…

Tara wasn’t going to admit it, but she was terrified. Had been since they walked out of the elevator and she realized she was deep underground, surrounded by the undead, and all that stood between her and a horrible end was another undead.

She watched as the two men, or rather two vampires, spoke. Their voices were pitched too low to hear, but the exchange didn’t seem friendly. Despite the difference in coloring, they were curiously alike. Both tall, pale skinned, and stunningly gorgeous. She wondered whether it was because they only chose tall, handsome men to change into vampires or if something happened during the change.

She knew, by the way they frequently glanced her way, that Piers and Christian were discussing her. Piers appeared angry—Christian must have broken a few rules to bring her here. Then again, he didn’t strike her as the sort of person who bothered with rules. Ever.

Unlike herself, who had lived the first twenty-two years following a set of rules given to her by a dead woman. At the thought of rules, her hand went to her locket. She’d broken Rule Number Three, and it hadn’t turned out any better than number two. What had Christian seen that was so bad? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“Tara.” Christian held out a hand to her. She stood and walked toward him. As his fingers wrapped around hers, she instantly felt better.

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Piers said.

Christian nodded. “Thanks, Piers.”

He left the room.

Christian pulled her toward the desk then pushed her shoulder until she sank into the chair.

Alarm flickered through her. “I’m going to need to sit for this?”

He took the seat opposite and sat for a moment, watching her closely.

“What?” she asked.

“Vampires have remained secret among humans for thousands of years only by following a strict set of rules. One of the Order’s jobs is to ensure that everyone upholds those rules.”

“I guess you broke a few by bringing me tonight.”

“A few. I thought it was worth it to get the information we need, but perhaps we should have had this conversation before I brought you here.”

“What difference would it have made?”

“We have two ways of dealing with humans who discover our secret. The ones that survive the experience, that is. The first is to erase their memories.”

“You can do that?”

“Short-term memories are easy. The longer the memory is in the mind the harder it becomes, and the more likely we are to cause some sort of permanent damage, so we try to do it as soon as possible. It’s how we deal with those humans we feed from.”

“Have you ever done it to me?”

He shook his head. “Sometimes I hunt, but I don’t need to feed with much frequency any more. Most vampires have humans who they feed from regularly.”

“Like you and Graham?”

He nodded. “Those we feed from more than once, we bind to us by the second method.”

“And that is?”

“We mark them.”

“Mark them with what?”

“It’s not a physical mark. It’s a” —he thought for a moment— “psychic mark.”

“You mark their brains?” Tara shuddered. She didn’t like the thought of anyone doing anything in her brain. Christian watched her closely, and she realized where this was going. “You want to mark my brain, don’t you?”

“I don’t want to, but I have no choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

“You’re right, but perhaps I should set the choices out before you.”

She swallowed. “Go ahead.”

“The first is obviously that you allow me to mark you. I promise you the process will be painless.” His eyes swept over her, suddenly hot, and she had a flashback to the feel of being enclosed within his arms. Heat coiled low in her belly as though it had been waiting for something to set it aflame again.

“You might even enjoy it.” A shudder ran through her at the dark promise in his voice.

She stared into his face for long moments then broke the link between them. “And the alternative?”

The smile faded from his face. “That Piers marks you by force, and I can’t promise that won’t hurt.”