Dark Studies (Arcaneology) (31 page)

This wasn’t the time for such thoughts. Angie brought herself back to the job at hand and submerged her own personality beneath Grace’s.

“Would you do me a favor?” she whispered.

“Ask.”

“Make love to me all weekend. I need you to erase what he did to me. Wipe away the hate, the humiliation. Replace it. With…”

“Love.” His mouth formed the word, but he couldn’t say it out loud.

Grace reached up to cradle his head in her hands. “Yes.”

Deep inside, Angie felt the thrill of triumph. She had made a vampire fall in love. It was the power she had sought these last few years, the thing that motivated her to choose this dangerous career. She hadn’t understood that until recently. All her demands for respect and self-determination at last boiled down to one thing: the power to do what had been done to her, even if she chose not to exercise it. It had, she admitted, awakened feelings within her as well, but they did not control her. She was free. Free to explore or ignore them, and what harm was there in exploring them through the character of Grace?

His eyes filled with sorrow and more tenderness than she could have imagined possible. Steffen bent and caressed her lips with his. When tears spilled down her cheeks, the salt seeped into their mouths. A tremor went through his big frame. His kiss turned hard and passionate, so she was gasping for breath when he drew away just enough to untie her robe and eased to his knees in front of her. One strong arm slid around her waist and hips to hold her still while he squeezed her breast and closed his mouth over the nipple. He grazed it with his teeth as he sucked. Pleasure weakened her legs, and if he hadn’t held her up, she would have sunk to the floor. When he moved his mouth to the other breast, he kept his hand on the first, pinching the nipple, caressing her soft flesh. She held on to his shoulders and let her head fall back.

“Take me to bed,” Grace whispered.

He stood and led her out of the living room, and she stayed still while he slipped her bathrobe off. He hadn’t looked closely when they made love earlier, but now he examined every bruise, every laceration. With the backs of his fingers, he brushed over the worst of them. Grace shook her head. She guided his hand away from the injuries and kissed his palm, then brought it to rest along her jaw. When he ran his thumb over her lower lip, she drew it into her mouth and watched his eyes darken.

“Can you lie on your side?” he asked.

“The one that wasn’t injured, yes.”

Steffen stepped away to peel off his jeans. Naked, he stretched out on the bed and helped her settle into place, facing him, their bodies pressed together. He positioned her so neither of them would have to move much in order for him to enter her, and she felt him beginning to stiffen. One arm curled around her shoulders. He spread his hand open over the uppermost curve of her ass to hold her still while he shifted his hips, rubbing against her so the friction would bring him fully erect, at the same time massaging the most sensitive parts of her, making her grow wet. His shaft was soon slick and hard. With a groan, he eased back and set the tip of his cock at her opening.

The feel of him parting her lower lips made her breath catch. She held it until he pushed inside. He fell still, giving them both time to savor that sweet first moment of joining. Then he began to rock gently forward and back. His hand pressed in counterpoint so there was no need for her to use core muscles that would tug at her ribs, and she relaxed, giving herself over to him. As he stroked in and out, she realized he never quite sank to the hilt.

“All of it,” she demanded. “As far as you can go.”

He hesitated, but when she wriggled with frustration he gave in and buried himself completely. It felt good, so good that she wanted more. Putting a hand on his hip, she urged him to pick up the pace. Again he hesitated, and this time she dug her nails into him until he complied. She was too short to reach any higher than the curve of his shoulder, so she nestled her head there and closed her eyes. Deliberately, she squeezed inner muscles around him. His rhythm faltered, and she smiled, knowing she had caused it. The arm he had curled around her tightened.

It still wasn’t enough. Gasping, she said, “Harder.”

“I’ll hurt you.” She heard the strain in his voice.

“Harder.”

“But—”

“Harder!”

By the way he shuddered, she knew he wanted this as much as she did. Steffen plunged into her. His hand countered the force of his thrusts, pulling her to meet him, and the first hint of orgasm began to build. She cried out and begged him to come so she could feel him flood her deep inside. He resisted, murmuring that he wanted to bring her with him, but again she used inner muscles to squeeze, and it was too much. He sank in one more time as far as he could go and stayed there, his cock pulsing with orgasm.

“Yes,” she breathed, and followed him over the edge.

They stayed still long after the last echoes had faded, their bodies joined even though he had gone soft. Now that he no longer needed to steady her, he skimmed his hand up her back and into her hair, fingers combing through the strands.

“You haven’t tasted me yet tonight,” she said.

He moved his thumb to caress her throat. Her pulse beat against it, beckoning, but he protested, “You’re too weak.”

“You don’t have to take much. Unless you’re too hungry to control it?”

“No.” His voice thickened.

“Then drink.”

Grace tipped her head and stretched out her neck for him. He fell still. Then the fingers in her hair closed so he gripped it with his fist. He had to move lower in order to reach the right spot, so he slipped out of her and eased down the length of her body until he could settle his mouth over the vein. She felt his teeth extend into long, thin points. Fangs pierced her skin, not hard, only sinking far enough to nick the edge of the vein. The pleasure came with them, as gentle as the lips that sealed over her wound. Grace sighed and listened to the quiet sounds of him feeding.

They talked very little the rest of the night. He kept his promise and made love to every inch of her until dawn came and stole him away.

She woke before noon, bathed in sweat, her own scream echoing in her ears.

The nightmares didn’t happen all the time anymore. This was the worst she’d had in days. It was always Rimbeau, laughing at her useless attempts to escape. She still felt his fangs slashing her skin to shreds.

Nothing chased the dreams away completely, but sunlight helped. Steffen would not rise for hours yet. Getting out of bed, she eased herself into jeans and a T-shirt, slipped on a warm sweater, and headed out for a walk on the beach. This early in the year, there was no one else in sight. She had the sand, sea, and sky to herself. She got back to the cottage an hour before sunset, intending to eat dinner while she waited for Steffen to rise.

Halfway to the kitchen, she heard a quiet thump. Angie froze in her tracks. She listened intently but heard nothing other than the white noise of the ocean and the faraway calls of seagulls. A gust of wind made the windowpanes rattle. She shook her head and continued on her way. Just as she reached the stove, she heard it again, louder.

Angie grabbed the largest knife from a set mounted on the wall. With her other hand, she fumbled for her cell phone. She glanced at it. No bars. Tucking it into her pocket, she edged toward the back door on the other side of the kitchen. How had they found her after all the precautions she’d taken? At least she could be sure the intruder wasn’t a vampire. The sun was still above the horizon, so it must be something that did not fear daylight. Vampires rarely made alliances with other supernatural creatures, so chances were good it was a human. That improved her odds considerably. The car was right outside, only a few yards from the door. Whoever had made that noise was nowhere in sight, so she might be able to get to it fast enough to get away. Angie crouched and moved as silently as she could. Another sound made her flinch. It seemed to come from the bedroom. What were they doing, searching the room? The person had to have heard her come in. What were they waiting for?

When she reached the door, she turned the lock and slid back the bolt, grimacing at its click. She had just curled her fingers around the knob when she realized her keys were on the coffee table in the living room. The nearest neighbor was at least a half mile away. If she was going to escape, she needed those keys.

From somewhere in the back of the house came a rapping sound, like knuckles knocking on a door. It sent a surge of adrenaline through her. Should she run? There were no trees or rocks to hide behind outside, nothing but sand and wispy grass. She’d have to sprint, and her body was in no condition for it. Her stamina was practically nonexistent.

She saw no option but to stand her ground and fight. If she landed the first blow and did enough damage, she might get lucky. Angie gripped the knife hard and inched toward the bedroom.

“Grace.”

Her eyes went wide at the sound of that voice.

“Don’t be afraid, it’s me.”

Impossible. There was still an hour of daylight left. It couldn’t be—

“Steffen?”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

As a species, humans are more predictable than the tides. As individuals, however, anything is possible. When dealing with a single human, listen to your instincts. You might be surprised by what they tell you.

—James Morgan, addressing newly appointed vampire ambassadors to human nations

“Close all the shutters and curtains, tight, so I can come out.”

Shock immobilized her. When the knife clattered to the floor, she jumped so hard it jarred her ribs and shoulder, making her gasp aloud. He couldn’t possibly be awake. Vampires did not just sleep, they went into a coma so deep it looked like death and could not rise while the sun was above the horizon. Everyone knew that. Shaking, she went to the nearest window and did as he’d asked. It took a few minutes to make her way around the entire house, even as small as it was. When she had everything secure, she turned on the lights and walked in a daze to the bedroom.

“Is it safe?” Steffen asked.

“Yes.”

The trap door in the floor rose a few inches. She caught the gleam of his eyes as he paused to make sure the sun had been shut out completely, then he opened it the rest of the way. The vampire emerged. He lowered the door into place and turned.

“Grace,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She had to be Grace, now, not Angie. The character wavered, not quite coming when she reached for it.

“How?” she asked.

He stretched out a hand, and she flinched. He froze. He didn’t move again, just looked at her until she took it. Grace would not understand the implications of what was happening. She didn’t know enough to be frightened, only that she loved and trusted Steffen. Angie managed, just barely, to bring herself back into the fantasy.

She gave him an uncertain smile. “I didn’t think you guys could do that.”

“Very few of us can.” His gaze traveled to her throat and stayed there. “It’s…taxing. I need to feed.”

“Oh. Okay.” She pulled her hair out of the way and tipped her head to one side.

A shiver whispered over him. His muscles stood out with tension. “I need more than you can afford to give me.”

Looking closer, she saw he was even more pale than usual, and his skin was stretched tightly over his face, as though he were so dehydrated he had begun to mummify. Hunger cast a reptilian sheen over his eyes. Ravenous hunger. How much control did he have right now? She’d never worried about it with Steffen before. For the first time, she was careful to make no sudden movements and to show no fear. “I’ll heat up a bottle for you then.”

“Make it two.”

He’d already downed both bottles by the time her dinner of chicken and pasta was ready to eat. A third bottle sat in a pot, heating. Steffen’s flesh had filled out, and his skin was almost its normal color. His expression no longer raised the hairs on the back of her neck. He’d even taken the trouble to put on a shirt, instead of walking around in only the jeans he’d worn when going to his daily rest.

Grace was bursting with curiosity, which suited Angie’s agenda. She could get information without breaking character. After sitting at the table to eat, she pointed a fork at Steffen. “All right, how did you do that? Can other vampires rise before sunset?”

Instead of meeting her gaze, he got up to check on the last of his meal and kept his face turned away.

“The ability is rare. We prefer to keep it secret, from our own kind as well as from humans. There are advantages to being underestimated.”

What other secrets might they keep? It unnerved Angie to discover something she had not known about vampires, after all the time she had spent studying and living among them. But then, the ones she’d lived with had been relatively young, less than three hundred years. Even the older ones in her acquaintance were only half Steffen’s age, with the exception of one or two clients, and clients did not share the intimate details of their lives. Clearly, the ancients were more of a mystery than she had guessed.

Another question occurred to her. “If you keep it a secret, why did you reveal it to me?”

Steffen fell still. “It would appear I trust you more than I’d realized.”

Who was he talking to now, Grace or Angie? By revealing himself to one he had revealed himself to the other, surely he knew that. The overlap of fantasy and reality had escalated to an alarming degree. Was this a result of having made him fall in love with Grace? It was the power she had sought, but now that she had it she felt more humbled than victorious.

She went to stand beside him. Steffen didn’t move until she touched his arm, and when he looked at her she saw frown lines etched into his forehead. Grace took his hand and raised it to her lips, pressed them to his knuckles, then turned her head so her cheek rested on the backs of his fingers. Keeping her gaze locked with his, she brushed a strand of hair from his face.