Dying to Date (10 page)

“I wasn’t talking about exposing you.” His kind did not sign up for vampire feedings. Nor did they give away valuable advantages as he had with the rield. And they never risked their own safety to help an enemy.

Tarian wasn’t just challenging her preconceptions of his kind. He was smashing them into a million pieces.

“It’s all right,” he said, reassuring her, when it should have been the other way around. “Take what you need.”

He needs you healthy. This helps his cause as much as it does yours,
she reasoned. Except, right then the outside world felt very far away.

Taking his wrist, she turned it up toward her mouth.

“No,” he said when she started to lean down. “Not there.”

His hands slid around her waist to pull her closer as he tipped his head back.

She wanted to protest the intimate touch, but it caused her too much joy to demand he stop. Instead she stepped closer, her gaze locking on the pounding pulse in his throat.

Closing her eyes, she breathed in his unique scent of musk and magic. Her mouth watered as she pressed her lips to his neck. Life beat so close to the surface of his skin. Parting her lips, she dragged her tongue over his pulse.

Tarian groaned. His fingers tightened around her waist.

Her fangs lengthened, and she scraped them gently against his skin.

“Do it,” he whispered against her ear.

She bit down without any further urging.

Melissa moaned in pleasure as his blood touched her tongue. Had she ever tasted anything as good as him? She drew a deep sip, savoring the richness.

Tarian’s hand fisted in her hair as she drank. A vampire’s bite could be pleasurable for their victims if they wanted it to be, and Melissa couldn’t help herself from sharing the joy she felt with him.

Every sip she took tasted like pure energy. She felt her body grow stronger and repair the damage the sun had caused. But more than heal, Tarian’s blood excited her, thrilled her.

He waltzed her backward until their legs bumped against the bed. They tumbled onto the soft mattress without Melissa ever giving up her prize.

Without conscious thought, she kicked a leg astride him as she drank. His taste was intoxicating. The desire she felt being around him amplified a thousand fold with his blood on her tongue.

Melissa rocked against him as she moved in time to her swallows. Lust laced through her veins, enthralling her as much as the blood did. The urge to laugh, to touch, to pleasure pounded through her. Given the rock-hard erection between her thighs, it was a craving Tarian shared.

Melissa wanted to drink forever. All too soon she reached the point where his heart shuddered as it tried to pump less blood through his body.

The predator in her demanded she finish what she’d started. She could take it all, every last drop.

But then there’d be no more. No more blood. No more Tarian.

And she had a horrifying suspicion she needed them both.

With a last long pull, she reared back.

“My God,” Tarian breathed, his eyes glazed with pleasure.

Melissa drew her tongue over the small puncture wounds to clean them of every last drop. Pressing her hands against his chest, she pushed herself up even though all she wanted to do was snuggle closer.

“I never knew,” he said. Tarian reached up to run his thumb over her mouth. She saw a smear of red across his skin when he removed his hand and instinctively caught it in her mouth.

Her tongue swirled over the pad of his thumb as she swallowed the last taste of him.

“Good?” he asked.

“Delicious,” she replied. She fought back the desire to roll her hips against his straining erection. Vampires could get blood drunk when they found a truly excellent victim, and she feared Tarian might just be her drug of choice.

“Your eyes are red.”

Melissa blinked, knowing what it meant. When a vampire’s true nature pushed to the surface their eyes reflected that loosening of control. Her eyes hadn’t changed color during a feed since she’d been a young fledgling. Rarely did they darken even during a night of great sex.

Yet Tarian shattered that tight rein she used to hold herself in check.

“I like it,” Tarian said as he hooked a hand around her nape.

She should resist, but when he tugged her down, common sense deserted her. His blood pumped through her veins, creating a connection she’d never experienced before. All she wanted was one more touch.

His lips met hers and ignited the desire she was trying to keep banked.

Melissa writhed over top of him. Her hands tugged at his T-shirt in an attempt to work it over his head.

His mouth left hers for the briefest second as he pulled the material over his head. Melissa nearly purred with pleasure when she looked down at his sculpted body. His golden skin offered stark contrast to her pale fingers. They were different in every way.

But that didn’t stop her from pressing her mouth to his chest and licking his essence off his skin.

“Yes,” Tarian hissed when her tongue lapped over a nipple. One hand tangled in her hair while the other fisted in the sheets. He was trying to be good, and she appreciated the gesture. It gave her free reign to play with him as she’d dreamed about.

Her fingers glided across his body, and she felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten at her touch.

Instinct urged her to remember he was a necromancer, not a lover, but the longer she spent in his company the further the line blurred. Right then she wasn’t undulating against an enemy. He was simply Tarian. A man she wanted to be hers.

Melissa traced one light fingertip along the waistband of his jeans, pausing just under his navel.

She rolled her eyes up to his as she began to kiss her way down his chest. Tarian bucked beneath her, urging her on with his body, if not his words.

Her fingers reached for the fly of his jeans, just as the world spun before her eyes.

Desire drained away as it became an effort to keep her head up.

“Tarian,” she breathed, resting her forehead against his chest.

“Melissa?” He reached down for her and rolled her onto the bed. “What are you—?” He paused and glanced at the electric clock on the nightstand. “Bloody hell,” he said. “Sweetheart, it’s dawn.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she groaned.

The intoxication of his blood was fading, leaving behind only the sting of embarrassment. Not only had she been craving a man she should be holding at arms length, she’d gone and riled him up with promises she’d never be able to follow through on. Melissa hadn’t miscalculated her timing so badly in decades.

His chuckles grated her already frazzled nerves. “This isn’t funny,” she said, but it was hard to be severe when she could barely keep her eyes open.

“I’m laughing at myself,” he assured her. “Can you crawl under the covers?”

She rolled onto her stomach and tried to shimmy toward the head of the bed with varying degrees of success. Flopping around like a fish on dry land in front of the man she’d just been pawing did not help alleviate any of her humiliation.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he said, a trace of humor in his voice.

Tarian swept her up into his arms. “Let yourself sleep, Melissa,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Embarrassed,” she breathed as he laid her head on the pillow.

“I told you before. Anticipation is a good thing.”

She felt his fingers caress her cheek but couldn’t find the strength to open her eyes as she fell into unconsciousness.

…

Tarian collapsed into the chair he’d pulled up next to the bed. She was out like a light. If he were a gentleman, he’d cover her with a blanket and hit the shower. Instead, he couldn’t drum up the will to move.

Her lashes cast dark semicircles onto her creamy skin. A lock of hair fell across her cheek, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to brush it back into place.

He traced his fingertips along her jaw before sitting back. Melissa was always beautiful, but he’d never seen her this way before. There was no fear, no confusion on her face. She looked utterly peaceful.

And terribly vulnerable.

The past flashed through his mind, when he had hunted during the day, seeking vampires just as vulnerable as the one before him. No hesitation had ever gripped him in those dark days during the wars. He’d never doubted he was destroying evil.

Yet the woman before him was anything but.

“I made my peace with your kind,” he whispered to her. That acceptance didn’t account for the feelings rising within him each time he touched her, however. Hell, his vow to keep his hands to himself had lasted less than two hours. How was he supposed to survive the next few days?

“What are you doing to me?”

There was no answer to be found. A vampire was tying him in knots, and when her lips were on his, he didn’t seem to mind one damn bit.

Pushing from the chair, he reached out and flicked the blanket over Melissa for extra protection from any stray sunbeams. He paced into the bathroom, running a hand over his face. Shower first, and then he’d deal with planning their route for the next day. One thing was for sure. After his last bout with Melissa, sleep would be a long time coming.

“Shower,” he said to his reflection. “And let’s make it a cold one.”

Chapter Ten

The endless driving was not quite as fun the second night as it had been the first.

Melissa sat in the passenger seat and watched the flat landscape fly by outside her window. They’d passed a
Welcome to Oklahoma
sign a few hours back, so at least they were on the right path.

“We need to stop soon,” Tarian said. “You might have fed last night but I’m going to need a real meal to refuel. There are only so many power bars one can eat.”

The reminder of her last meal brought a blush to her cheeks. When she’d opened her eyes after her day’s sleep, the memory of her ill-fated make out session had been burned in her mind. She’d actually dreaded pulling off the cover that had kept her safe from the sun.

But when she had, Tarian had greeted her with a smile and the suggestion that they get on the road as quickly as possible.

She turned to glance at her companion. Other men might have been put out that she’d started something she couldn’t finish, but not Tarian. Did nothing rattle the man?

“There are lights up ahead,” she said, instead of the prying questions she wanted to ask. “Maybe there’ll be somewhere to stop.”

“I’d kill for a burger.” He shot her a wide grin. “Gotta keep my iron up.”

Which meant he wasn’t opposed to feeding her again. A wave of relief washed over her. Not that she couldn’t survive a few days of hunger until they reached home. Still, some part of her relaxed to hear he didn’t regret an act that was as vital to her as breathing was to him.

The small town grew on the horizon, and she hoped there’d be somewhere to stop. It might lengthen their travel time, but keeping her partner healthy helped both of them in the long run.

“Ye old timey diner,” he pointed out, maneuvering the car into the small parking lot. “Looks decent enough for a quick bite.”

“Fine by me,” she agreed.

The truck stop looked like it’d been modeled after a fifties diner. Or perhaps it simply hadn’t been updated in decades. Either way, they found a spot to sit in one red vinyl booth. A ragged looking waitress came up to them immediately with two menus and two waters.

“You two are out late,” she commented.

“Road trip,” Tarian replied. “I’ll take as big a cup of coffee as you can muster up and an equally large burger. Rare.”

“Coming right up.” She turned to Melissa. “And for you?”

“Not hungry,” she replied, holding out her menu.

“Need some meat on those bones, sugar,” the waitress said as she took the menus and walked away.

Melissa sighed. The woman wasn’t wrong. She’d grown up in a time that had valued more voluptuous figures and had always thought it was a far healthier alternative to the current model craze. Her vampirism, however, kept her from ever achieving the more womanly figure she admired.

“I think you’re perfect,” Tarian commented as he sipped his water.

The words brought a smile to her face even as they sent a shiver down her spine. “You’re biased, since you’re trying to keep me in a good mood so I don’t desert you.”

“Believe what you wish.” He leaned back against the booth with a tired sigh.

“I’ll drive the next leg,” she offered. “It’ll be hours before exhaustion catches up with me.”

“Deal.”

The waitress hustled back with his coffee, and Tarian groaned in pleasure when he tasted the hot beverage.

“Life got a whole lot easier after this drink was invented,” he said, inhaling the aroma with closed eyes.

Melissa blinked. He was older than coffee? Racking her brain, she tried to remember when coffee had come into vogue. Certainly by her time it was a standard in many homes.

When she’d met Tarian in Fated Match’s reception room she’d assumed they were of similar age. A careless mistake on her part. An immortal’s appearance didn’t necessarily correlate to their chronological years. Strength, however, grew with the passage of time. If he was old, then he’d be a strong opponent against any foe. Perhaps even her father.

“I can hear you worrying,” he said, not bothering to open his eyes.

Melissa was used to hearing the heartbeat of those around her and noting when it raced with excitement or shuddered in fear. That someone else could read her body’s changes in the same way unnerved her.

“Looking forward to getting home,” she replied.

“Nope. Not it.” His blue eyes flickered open. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

She debated asking her questions. They had a decent enough truce going. More than decently, really, considering the activities of last night. Prying into his past could change that.

Or worse, it could cause her to become even more infatuated with the damn necromancer than she already was.

“I was wondering about you,” she answered, meeting his gaze.

Tarian tilted his head. “I told you, there isn’t much to tell.”

“Such lies,” she murmured.

He set his cup down before giving her his full attention. “If you want to delve into my past, Melissa, I’ll be demanding quid pro quo.”

Her mother’s face flashed across her mind. Tarian might be on her side right now but who knew what the future held? Giving him more ammunition against her could be a mistake.

Curiosity killed the cat,
she thought. Then again, maybe the cat had died happy.

“Where were you before America?” she asked.

“Europe.”

“And when exactly did coffee come to Europe?”

A tiny smile twisted his lips. “My history is a little rusty, but I believe a pope in the 1600’s is to thank for its rise in popularity.”

Her nails gouged into the vinyl beneath her. That definitely beat her single century.

“Were you young when coffee changed the mornings of Europeans across the continent?”

He held her gaze. “No.”

Melissa licked her lips as she contemplated her next question. “Did you fight in the necromancer wars?”

This time he wasn’t so forthcoming. His fingers tapped against the laminate tabletop. “Are you sure you want to know, Melissa?”

She swallowed. If he had, then he was old. Not a few hundred years, give or take, but really, really old. According to her history books, the wars had raged across Eastern Europe in the early fourteenth century. If he’d been a part of them, that not only meant he was a strong warrior, but he was qualified to be an elder, if necromancers had one.

“I want to know,” she said.

Tarian inclined his head. “I was only a few decades old when I fought in the wars with my father.”

She exhaled out of habit. “Well, hell. I always did have a thing for older men.”

The waitress arrived with Tarian’s burger, and Melissa welcomed the respite. Her father had battled the necromancers. The idea that the two men currently most important in her life could have met years before she was even born made her head hurt.

“You must have hated us,” she said.

Tarian’s eyes flicked to her before he turned his attention back to his meal. “Yes,” he agreed. “For many years.”

And now?
But she couldn’t voice the question fearing what the answer would be.

“Before I came into your life, had you ever met a necromancer?”

She ran her nail along the chrome lining of the table as she contemplated owing him her own answers about the past. “No,” she breathed.

Lucian had been very careful to keep her protected when she was younger, and by the time she’d grown, the modern world had exploded. Necromancers had been pushed further and further back into the less populated areas of the country.

“But you feared us.”

“Given the history it’s only natural that—”

“Yes or no, Melissa.”

“Yes,” she said, lifting her eyes to his.

“Because you were taught we were evil, without ever having the chance to form your own opinion. Can you imagine what it’s like growing up as a necromancer child?” He took a bite of his burger.

“You can’t blame us for fearing creatures who can command us like puppet masters.”

“Perhaps not,” he replied. “But I can blame you for turning the rest of the supernatural world against us. Our powers only work on the death races, and yet even living, flesh and blood immortals fear us. Against a werewolf I’d be almost as useless as a human.” Tarian pointed a french fry at her. “The fact of the matter is, vampires rule our world, and your prejudice became everyone’s prejudice. We never had a chance.”

“The necromancers haven’t exactly been a peaceful race,” she said. “That I’m sitting in this diner is proof of that.”

“Where did being peaceful ever get us?” he asked. “Whether we behaved or not, we were condemned.”

Melissa turned away from him, not liking the uncomfortable doubt worming its way into her mind. She remembered the child at Dominic’s ranch and the sad resignation in her eyes. Had the vampires been too zealous in their effort to protect themselves?

“Preaching world peace, are you?” she asked.

A sardonic smile twisted his lips. “We’ve spent days together without any mortal injury. Surely that proves our two kinds can coexist.”

“You’re quite the idealist to have been caught up fighting wars.”

A bleak hopelessness shuttered his eyes. “It took me many centuries to come to my beliefs,” he said. “When the wars were fought, I thought the only way we could survive was to eradicate your people.”

A beat of silence passed as she pondered his words. Giving in to the urge to ask her most pressing question, Melissa leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table. “Why did you pursue me?”

Tarian blinked. “What?”

“You wouldn’t tell me before. Tell me now.”

No expression passed over his face as he regarded her in silence.

“I bullied Abbey into setting up our date, but for it to work, you had to agree,” she continued. “You knew who I was. Hell, even if you hadn’t recognized me, you’re as old as the hills. You’d have been able to sense me the second you walked through the doors. So why did we ever end up at Celeste’s?”

He polished off the last of his burger as she wondered whether he’d yield this time. When they’d first started this trip he’d been right—she wouldn’t have believed a word he said. But now… She didn’t know when things had changed, but they had. Whatever answer he gave, good or bad, she’d believe it.

“I knew there’d be complications,” he said.

“But you did it anyway.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Pushing his plate away, he met her steady gaze. “Because I was serious when I said I wanted to find my mate, and I have never, not once in nearly seven hundred years, reacted to a woman the way I did to you.”

Her jaw dropped. Her heart clenched. He hadn’t meant his words the way they’d sounded. Couldn’t possibly.

But hadn’t she felt the exact same way when they’d first locked eyes across the pink-and-white waiting room?

“There has never been a vampire-necromancer pairing,” she whispered.

“Because it isn’t possible, or because there was never an opportunity?” he asked. “We could check the Fated Match website right now, and I guarantee the number of necromancers signed up would be less than a handful. Hard to mingle when every other race runs at the mere sight of you.”

“What are you saying, Tarian? We were meant to be?”

The pause before he responded was the longest moment of her hundred years. Part of her hoped he scoffed at the notion just as she had. A deeper, more secret part, however, waited for a different outcome.

“No,” he said at last. “My mate will never abhor me. I was attracted to you, still am, but you’re not the woman I’ve waited lifetimes to find.”

I’m not bleeding,
she told herself.
His words don’t affect me.
But his denial that she could ever be more to him than a bedmate cut her in ways she hadn’t thought possible. She’d rather face a brush with the sun than the absolute certainty in his eyes.

My luck strikes again
.
Perfect man, imperfect circumstances.

“Good,” she said, lifting her chin so he’d never know how his confession pained her. “I feel exactly the same. Obviously our flirtation in New York was ill conceived.”

“It seems we agree on something at last.” He waved at the waitress to bring the bill.

Melissa gazed out the dark window by her side. It didn’t matter what he said or what he believed. All that mattered was getting home. That was her end goal. Not roping Tarian into her life along the way. It was good that they’d dispelled any lingering doubts she’d had. It wasn’t like she’d been hoping for some star-crossed happily ever after with the man. Had she?

“Thank you,” she said, not looking at him.

Tarian turned to her, passing cash to the waitress as he did. “What?”

“I know you came for me in order to help your people, not mine. You might even have come because you thought I was…important to you. It doesn’t matter. Whatever your reasons, thank you. For saving me.”

He sat in silence for a long moment before replying. “I have many regrets in my life.”

Melissa closed her eyes as she waited for his next words. Surely he’d add helping her to the list. The ungrateful vampire heiress who couldn’t look past her own prejudice, even when her life depended on it.

“Rescuing you is not one of them.”

She turned to him then. There was nothing pleasant in his expression. No joy, no hint of hope. He knew as well as she did that no matter what became of their romance on this road trip, it wouldn’t last past the city limits.

A relationship with an expiration date,
she thought.
No matter what choices you make on the road, they won’t follow you home. Two more nights and you’ll be safe in your own bed. Won’t you regret not knowing what it felt like to be Tarian’s, even if only for a night?

“Here’s your change, sugar,” the waitress interrupted, setting the receipt back onto the table.

“Thank you,” Tarian said, breaking eye contact with Melissa.

She mentally shook her head. When she pushed from the red booth she was back to her normal self. No regrets, no wishing things were different. A necromancer and a vampire had no future in today’s modern world. Even if a part of her wished otherwise.