Eveillez: Deny Your Blood Lust (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

She's drowning. Above her, pale sunlight glimmers on the water surface, dancing on the waves. Her arms move frantically in a desperate attempt to get her to the surface. But no matter how hard she flails, it remains just out of reach.

Slowly she begins to sink. It feels like someone had taken hold of her ankles and is pulling her down. She can no longer fight it. Her arms are wet noodles, her legs filled with rocks. She no longer wants to fight it. Closing her eyes, she succumbs and lets herself be pulled down.

With a water-spewing cough Angel came to. The shower pounded against her face, any warmth in the water long gone. Turning her face away from the frigid onslaught, she coughed up the last bits of water trapped in her lungs. "Oh God," she murmured, her lungs burning with the effort.

Had she slipped and knocked herself unconscious? Or had she fallen asleep in the shower?

The freezing water continued to assault her goose-pimpled and shriveled flesh. Clutching the soap dispenser, she heaved her body forward and twisted the water off. Shivering, she crawled from the shower and grabbed a towel from the rack. Pulling it tight over her body, she curled up on the bathroom rug and clamped her eyes shut against the cold. If she could relax her body, if she could stop the shivering, she could warm up. She focused on taking steady, deep breaths and thinking warm thoughts.

She's wrapped in Kevin's strong arms, her body pressed against his firm chest. Warmth radiates from his skin, easing the chills from hers. His large hands stroke her back, encouraging the circulation to return with each pass. She nuzzles into him and he embraces her tighter.

"I'm not going anywhere," he murmurs into her hair. "You're warm. You're safe."

Angel smiled at the thoughts. For a brief moment she was.

* * * *

As Kevin reached out to open the door to
La Luxure
he hesitated. The shaking had moved beyond his hands. A subtle quiver under his skin, it started at his fingers and traveled up his arm. He'd had it for years. Only yesterday had it dissipated.

Well, that was why he was here, wasn't it? To put the Vampire theory to bed?

The muscle-bound bartender was leaning against the bar, massive forearms pressed into the wood. Kate Miller sat on the stool in front on him. From the expressions on their faces, Kevin was pretty sure if he'd shown up five minutes later, one, or both, would be naked.

"The donut shop's down the street," Slade said with a grin as the door shut behind him.

He took a seat at the bar. "You're hilarious."

"I like to think so."

He glanced at Kate. "Miss Miller."

"Have you found Lohr yet?"

"Afraid not. It's like he just disappeared off the face of the planet." Fear crossed her face. "Don't worry, I shot him. He'll either show up in a hospital or body bag. And the FBI's taken the case." Or so Johnson had told him when he finally called the station to check in. "He won't get far."

"And if he shows up here," Slade added. "I'll deliver him to the cops in a couple of trash bags. Three if Lohr puts up too much resistance."

Her smile was wobbly but at least it was genuine. "I'd kinda like to see that."

"And I'd definitely like to show you." He gave her a lustful wink before turning to Kevin. "So if you haven't come to
share some good news, why are you here?"

He grimaced, suddenly finding the barstool uncomfortable.

"Would a shot of whiskey help you spit it out?"

"Yes." He sighed. "No. But thanks." He glanced at Kate. He wasn't sure why her presence made him nervous but it did. Slade was a blood drinker so Kevin knew he would understand. Even though the marks on Kate's neck told him she was obviously cool with it, he still didn't want to make his request in front of her.

She seemed to pick up on his discomfort and rose. "I'll be right back," she said, making her way to the ladies room.

Both men watched her enter the bathroom and when the door closed behind her, Slade turned to him. "The bagged blood is usually reserved for members," he said. "But I'll make an exception for you. I'm sure Armand won't mind."

"How do you know that's what I want?"

Slade shrugged. "Why else would you be here? Besides, you do have the most common symptoms of an unsatisfied Vampire Craving."

"Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I didn't notice in the hospital because I was engrossed in my own drama. I finally noticed last night, but there were more pressing issues."

Kevin groaned, rubbing his hand roughly over his face. "Shit. I don't know if I can—"

"Let me get you a shot," Slade interjected, "and we'll go from there."

He disappeared into the back room and Kevin was left alone to twiddle his thumbs. God, what was he thinking? Did he really think for one second this would work, that drinking blood would somehow cure his physical problems, that he was some
Human Vampire…
?

His thoughts were cut short as Slade returned carrying a tumbler with about a quarter-inch of red liquid at the bottom. Blood. That was human blood.

Slade set it before him.

"Where—?"

"Donors," Slade interrupted. "Safe, screened,
anonymous
, donors. Almost any flavor you like."

He could not peel his gaze away from the cup. If he stared any harder, his eyeballs were going to jump out of their sockets and permanently attach themselves to the glass. "Anonymous…"

"To you. I know who they are."

He might not be able to look away but he couldn't pick up the glass either.

"It's best warm." Finally, he lifted his gaze to Slade. The thought was … horrifying. "I gave you a small shot," the bartender continued. "But it should do the trick. You do need to drink it though. Start with a small sip."

The shaking in his hand as he reached for the tumbler had little to do with his normal tremble. Closing his eyes, he grabbed the glass, pressed it to his lips, and tipped his head back.

The moment the blood touched his tongue all of his trepidation slipped away. It was as if every craving he'd ever had was satisfied with one thick swallow.

"Mmm."

"That's what I thought."

He felt his eyes snap open. Slade was watching him, a huge grin plastered on his face. Kevin suddenly realized the "mmm" had come from his own mouth.

"Fuck." He practically dropped the empty glass on the bar.

Slade took it and set in under the bar, presumably into a sink. "Don't stress, man. That's probably the best swallow of your life. Trust me."

"What happens now?" He was thankful Slade removed the evidence so quickly. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he had to stare at a bloody glass.

"You should start feeling the effects pretty quickly. The shakes are the first thing to disappear; the fatigue takes a little longer. I'm usually pretty mellow right after, kinda how you feel after great sex. Later I feel energized."

What a heavenly synopsis of events hopefully to come. Energized. Like he had been yesterday.

"It was weird for me the first time too."

Kevin looked him over. With Slade's red contacts, jet black spiked hair, fangs, black painted nails, skull tattoos, and fitted black Tee with buckles on each shoulder, the bartender looked like he'd always embraced being a Vampire.

"When … how did you discover…?"

"Armand. I came to the city to work in the shipyards—my uncle's a superintendent—and I was out one night and Armand approached me. I was a little freaked out at first, but everything he said made sense. I was a less of a square than you, though." Slade flashed a quick grin at him. "Armand hooked me up with a girl and well, the rest is history."

"Hooked you up with a girl? Like a blood-whore?"

"The term is actually Blood Doll but yeah, blood-whore pretty much describes it."

"So it's sexual for these … Blood Dolls?"

"Usually." Slade shrugged. "Some people really get off on it. Blood and sex man, they're a good mix."

Kevin couldn't argue with that. Knowing how hard he'd come with Angel riding him, her blood in his mouth…

"In fact," Slade was saying, "that was a night of firsts for me. I'm pretty sure I had sex with her too."

"Pretty sure?"

"Like I said, it was a night of firsts. I'm not sure I actually made it to her vagina. It's quite possible I had sex with the air around her vagina." He gestured in wild circles. "But I still count it."

Kate's laughter was so loud it seeped through the bathroom door.

"Ah shit, she heard me, didn't she?" Slade glanced at Kevin and then tipped his chin toward the bathroom door. "We cool?"

"Oh, yeah, sure."

"You can come out now," Slade said loudly.

Kate was still laughing when she emerged from the bathroom. Wiping the tears running down her pale face, she returned to the barstool she'd occupied earlier. "Thanks. I was getting tired of staring at myself in the bathroom mirror." She started laughing again.

"It isn't that funny," Slade said dryly.

"Having sex with the air outside her vagina? Uh, hell yeah, it's that funny." She touched his arm. "Don't worry baby, I'll let you have sex with my vagina air any time you want."

"Har-har."

Her smile was broad as she stood up, leaned over the bar, and kissed him.

Kevin was only partially paying attention. He was too busy noticing the weird shit going on in his body. Warm gooeyness had seeped into his veins and he felt like he'd just had an hour-long massage. The tension was gone, the constant twitching that made it feel like his skin was trying to escape subsiding.

"It works quick," Slade said, breaking his trance.

He stared at him. "Impossible."

"Maybe. But in a couple hours when you feel like you could climb Mount Everest, you won't give a shit." Slade leveled his gaze on him. "Look, I know it's hard to accept; in fact, I'm having my own issues with it. But you're not alone in this and we're not all freaks. Most of us are fairly normal."

He shook his head. "Fuck. A Vampire…"

"There are worse things to be."

"Like what?"

"A politician."

He laughed. "Jesus Christ." He raked his fingers through his hair. "It's so ludicrous." He shook his head again. "So, how often will I need to," he grimaced, "drink … blood?" God, he even hated saying the words. If this bullshit was true, how the hell was he going to keep up on it?

"It's different for all of us. Some Cravings are mild—once a week, every couple of weeks—some are stronger. I need it about twice a week. Vamps like Angel are daily drinkers."

"Angel…" Kevin had successfully avoided thinking about her, but hearing her name brought her to the forefront of his thoughts and dumped a pile of emotions at his feet. Regret and longing being the strongest. "She knew from the beginning. All she tried to do was help me and I repeatedly pushed her away. I was a complete prick."

The realization of what he'd done to her punched him in the gut. Of all the people he'd hurt in the last several months—his family in St. Paul, his friends on the force—he felt like he'd done her the greatest injustice. He might have run away from his problems in Minnesota, but the way he'd treated Angel was despicable, even for him.

"She'll forgive you. Angel's good like that."

He had a hard time believing that, but he suddenly knew he would do anything to make it true.

He rose. "Where are you going?" Slade asked.

"I have to see her." He paused at the door. "Shit," he muttered, reaching for his wallet and pivoting back toward the bar.

"On the house." Slade held up his hand. "The first one's free." He grinned. "I have a feeling you'll be back."

Chapter Twenty-Two

Pounding on the front door to Angel's yoga studio did nothing but irritate the wounds on his hands. He'd called four times on the way over even though his unanswered calls went straight to voicemail. Her website said she had classes scheduled tonight, but the studio looked vacant. If she wasn't there, he couldn't figure out why she'd leave the place unsecured and vulnerable. Especially when there was an accordion security gate scrunched uselessly against the wall. It sent a shiver of panic through him.

The door was easy enough to shimmy open. Any crook with an ounce of experience could be inside in less than thirty seconds. It took Kevin a full minute. The place was empty, not an ounce of life stirred anywhere.

He called her name, his voice bouncing hollowly off the hardwood floors. Not expecting an answer he moved down the hall. Judging by the floor plan and building layout, he expected the stairwell to the upstairs to be in her office. He had to break into it, but it was even easier than the front door.

It looked the same as it had the other night. The uncluttered desk sat in the middle of the crescent shaped room, an open door to a bathroom behind it. The couch was tucked against the wall beside the exit door. He avoided looking at both it and the desk as he snaked past them. It wasn't that the memories were bad, he just didn't want to get lost in them.

As he assumed, the stairs were located beyond the bathroom. Just as Slade suggested would happen, he was beginning to feel energized. Climbing the stairs didn't put a blip in his energy level. Not just energized though, he felt alive, aware.

A shot of blood … it was ridiculous. There was no denying the effects, though, not even if he lied to himself.

"Angel," he called as he pushed open the door at the top of the stairs. He didn't have to break in this time since the door was unlocked. Only still, cool darkness greeted him.

Her apartment, like her wardrobe, was lavish, meticulously decorated, and distinctively feminine. A mix of Old World antiques and vintage charm, the apartment was as unique and eclectic as the woman residing in it.

When she wasn't in the bedroom or living room, he felt relief fill his chest. Until he noticed the light seeping under the bathroom door.

He approached the bathroom cautiously. Maybe she was just taking a bath, or using the facilities. He called her name again. When she didn't answer he felt his stomach sink into his shoes.

Pausing at the closed door, he pressed his ear against it. Silence.

"Angel," he said quietly, knowing it was pointless. Testing the knob, he found it unlocked. He pushed the door open and his heart fell into the studio below.

Wrapped in a fluffy red towel, she was curled up on the floor.

He knelt on the floor next to her and gently touched her shoulder. "Angel." When she sluggishly stirred, the breath he held rushed out in an explosive sigh.

"Thank God," he breathed. She was alive.

Shaking her gently, he repeated her name. She moaned a little but still didn't wake.

Frantically, he scanned the room, looking for evidence of drugs or a drug overdose. There was nothing on the vanity. No empty pill bottles, no syringes, no drug paraphernalia of any kind. Nothing in the trash either.

He looked back to her. Her breathing was slow and regular, she wasn't sweating, there was no trace of vomit—on her, the floor, or in the toilet—or anything else he'd associate with a drug overdose. She was just sleeping … soundly. On the bathroom floor.

Scooping her up, he carried her to the huge four poster bed and laid her on the mattress. She didn't stir, not once, and her skin felt like ice.

The red satin sheets were crumpled and he knew she'd been sleeping recently. He also knew by the untamed waves that her hair had air-dried. And she wasn't wearing a lick of makeup. Had she collapsed when getting out of the shower?

Tossing the towel aside, he pulled the covers over her. She looked so tiny, fragile and pale. He sat on the edge of the bed. Stroking her hair, he kissed her gently. "Wake up gorgeous," he whispered. "I need you." He kissed her again. "Angel."

Her brows pushed together and she stirred, but her eyes stayed clamped shut.

Could this all be symptoms of the
Vampire
condition? Kevin knew the level of exhaustion he regularly faced and Slade had hinted at the extent of Angel's blood needs. If she didn't satisfy them, was this the result?

Kicking off his shoes, he climbed into bed with her, stretching alongside her small frame and placing his head on the pillow next to hers. "Angel. Love. Please wake up. I need you." Brushing her cheek with the backs of his fingers, he marveled at how impossibly smooth her skin was. "God only knows how much." He shook his head. "I never knew I needed anything or anyone until I met you. Please, please, please open your pretty brown eyes for me."

Slowly, her eyes blinked once, twice, and then fully opened. She might have been startled to see him lying inches from her face, but she looked more confused than anything. "Kevin?" Her voice was groggy, her speech slow.

He smiled, rubbing his thumb across her lower lip. "Yeah, it's me."

She blinked again and looked around the room. "I think I fell asleep in the … shower."

"You were on the bathroom floor."

"How'd I get in bed?"

"I carried you."

"Why?"

"I thought the bed would be more comfortable than the bathroom rug."

Her lips tried to curl into a smile. "Why are you here?"

"I had to see you. I had to tell you what a fool I've been."

She ran a hand over her eyes. "I'm sorry I'm not … presentable. I … wasn't expecting company."

He pulled her hand away. "Don't be ridiculous. You look beautiful." And she did. Her makeupless features were no less alluring than her painted features. In fact, it made her look strangely vulnerable and he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and shield her from the world.

"I'm glad you're here," she said with a feeble smile.

"Me too."

"I'm so sorry. About last night. I didn't mean for you to see that. I know it upset you."

"Maybe a little. I think I was more jealous than anything."

"About Kindle? No reason to be. I'd much rather have you in my mouth." The way she slurred the words made her sound drunk. Literal or innuendo, he liked the sound of that.

"Good. And don't be sorry. You were right. About everything."

"Really? You understand now?"

"I think so. Maybe." He smiled. "I did just come from
Luxure
."

"Good." Her lids started to droop and her head drifted away from him.

Shocked, he patted her cheek. "Angel."

It was hardly fast, but her lids lifted. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Again, don't be. Hey." He took her face in his hands and forced her to look at him. "Is this," with his eyes he gestured over her body, "part of the Human Vampire condition?"

"Yes. I waited too long."

"What about last night?" Slade indicated she was a daily drinker, but…

"I didn't finish. After you left, I couldn't."

"Why?"

"Because of you. All I've wanted since the moment we met is," she furrowed her brow, "you. I keep messing it up. Pushing too hard. Forcing too much. I'm so sorry." She drifted off again, her eyes closing, her head sinking into the pillow.

"Jesus," he muttered, easing her back up. "You need blood, don't you?" Surprisingly, the question formed easily on his lips. And the plan forming in his brain felt shockingly natural.

"I'll go to
Luxure
." Bracing against the mattress, she made a valiant attempt to rise, her efforts shaky and wobbly. Popping up, Kevin helped ease her into a sitting position. She pushed hair from her face with clumsy hands. "I was trying to get there earlier. That's what the shower was for." She leaned back against the headboard. "I just couldn't get seem to get out of bed. But you're here now. Thank you."

"And I'm not going anywhere." He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. Maybe the gesture was premature, but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she lifted her chin for more. "And neither are you." Tipping her forward, he slipped a pillow behind her back.

"Armand won't let you take blood from the bar."

"Doesn't matter. I have plenty in my body."

She stared unbelieving at him. "I can't ask that of you…"

"You aren't asking. I'm offering." He'd known the moment he laid eyes on the dark circles marring her pale skin he would do anything he needed to in order to make her well again.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

She placed a frigid hand on his cheek. "I am honored."

Peeling her hand back, he kissed the palm and then cupping his hand over hers, blew warm air over her fingers. "Just tell me what to do."

"In the bathroom, there's an autoclave. Tools should still be in it."

"Okay." Her hand fell like rock when he released it.

He rose from the bed. Her lids immediately lowered, her head drooping to one side as if her muscles were too fatigued to hold it up.

The small white autoclave was tucked into the corner of the vanity. He'd seen machines like it in tattoo shops to sterilize needles. After fishing the tools from a metal chamber filled with glass beads, he hurried back to the bedroom, removing his shirt as he went.

Slumped against the headboard, Angel lifted heavy lids when he sat next to her on the bed. Holding out the tools he asked, "Which one?"

"The fangs are probably the best." He isolated a pair of metal fangs attached to adjustable metal loops and set the other pieces on the dresser. The fangs were pretty self explanatory, and he slid them over his fingers.

"Now what?" He held the sharp metal teeth up to his neck. "Here okay?"

She moved his hand up and over a few inches. "That's safer."

Without hesitation, he pierced the skin. He could immediately feel the warm fluid slide down his neck. Angel's now lust-filled gaze locked on it. Wetting her lips, she eased forward onto her knees. Her movements were more stable than they had been earlier, but he still had to help support her. He tilted his head away, exposing all of his neck to her. Her hands braced on his chest, she captured the lowest droplets of blood with her tongue and then traced its path until her mouth covered the puncture holes.

Their moans matched. "Oh my God," he breathed, amazed how delicious her lips felt on his neck. She sucked hard against his flesh, and he felt his cock swell and fill his jeans.

Clutching her shoulder with one hand, he slipped his other under her ass, cupping, supporting. She moaned when his hand brushed across her sex, rolling her hips against the touch and sucking harder on his skin. The liquid heat pooling between her legs did nothing to alleviate his straining cock. He slid a finger into her. She responded with a thrust of her hips, pushing him deep inside.

Locking her elbow around his neck, she undid the button of his jeans and shoved her hand into his pants, finding his cock and easing it free.

"God, Angel," he moaned as her cool skin slid over his length. With her lips on his neck, her hand on his cock, his blood in her mouth, and her slick, wet pussy all over his finger, he was about to lose it.

Blood. Sex. Definitely a good mix.

This was right, everything about this was right. He'd never been more certain of anything. Human Vampires, bloodsuckers, freaks … he no longer cared.

* * * *

Kevin's blood was driving her crazy. She couldn't get enough of him. She couldn't taste enough of him, couldn't feel enough of him. She needed him, ached for him.

Whimpering as he pushed another finger inside her, she moved her hips faster, harder. His cock was heaven in her hand, the firm length swelling with every stroke. She couldn't wait for him to come, anxious to devour the energy of his orgasm, to give him as much pleasure as he was giving her.

Suddenly, he flipped her onto her back, hooking his arms under her knees and spreading her legs wide. When his cock buried deep inside her, she came, crying out as pleasure wracked her body. His orgasm immediately followed hers, his body slamming into hers as he exploded inside her. Even though his blood was no longer on her lips, she could feel his energy race through her, electrifying her nerves and expelling the fatigue from her bones.

Panting, he eased from her and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. "Jesus," he muttered.

"No, just Angel." She kissed his jaw, loving the way his short beard brushed her lips.

He returned her kiss. "But you have saved me."

Reaching across him to retrieve a tissue from the nightstand, she perched on her elbows and pressed the cotton to his neck. Her movements were already stronger. She'd never felt the effects from blood so quickly. It had to be the energy of his orgasm. "Maybe from a lifetime of exhaustion," she said.