Forbidden Blood (Vampire Venators Romance Series) (19 page)

“Thank you,” she whispered, unsure what else to say.

“A little too well. I suspected my nephew had tasted your blood. Now I have proof.”

“He was healing my hand.” Amber remembered how it had felt to have Kearn’s tongue sliding sensually over her palm, and the kiss that had followed in the aftermath. That had been divine. Her heart sped with the music and her head began to spin with the constant twirling as they raced around the dance floor. Each step made her feet ache in the heels and her ankles threatened to give out. “He’s looking for a vampire who is interested in my blood.”

“Because you are a Source Blood?” the duke said and she glanced up at him. Her gaze immediately dropped to his chest again. He laughed. “Do not seem so surprised that I can tell such a thing. There is more to your beauty than looks.”

They danced on and Amber kept telling herself not to concentrate too much. She just had to keep upright and keep staring at the duke’s chest. Kearn would do the rest.

The tempo of the music increased again. Christ. She would fall now.

“Shall we see how good the Venator is at dancing?” the duke whispered into her ear. “If you fall, you are mine.”

No. She wasn’t going to agree to that. The pace of the music was ridiculous. She was only human. She couldn’t dance this fast and not fall. He was stacking the odds against Kearn.

She wanted to see him. Her vision was a blur of black and she couldn’t make out anything.

But she could feel Kearn’s eyes on her, intense and focused, and could feel him guiding her steps.

And she could feel the duke watching her. Waiting for her to fall.

Whatever civility he had been showing her before was gone now. He was as cold and distant as Kearn had been when they had first met. She didn’t want to become a prize like those other women and she didn’t believe a word the duke had said about her being able to win his heart. This man didn’t have a heart. He treated his own nephew with contempt and was treating her as though she was something he could win, like a possession. Well, she wasn’t and she would never belong to him.

The brass section blared out again, the strings joining it. The choir rose along with the tempo. He was making them do this. He had to be.

Her knees weakened and she felt sick from swirling so quickly in circles.

She was going to fall.

No. She wouldn’t fall. She was doing just fine. She just needed to relax.

Amber looked around. Kearn. These were his thoughts somehow placed into her mind. Did her blood allow him to do this too? Last night, she had felt something similar, had heard a voice inside her that had told her to fight the man’s hold over her. He was speaking to her through her blood. She relaxed as instructed and tried to see him. The tempo of the song finally began to slow and she gasped when Duke Montagu pulled her hard against him, so his body pressed into hers.

Anger surged through her.

He smiled. “If the Venator continues to threaten me, I will have to make an example of him.”

Amber saw Kearn standing at edge of the dance floor, a gap between him and the other vampires. When she spun with the duke, she turned her head to face Kearn again. His eyes were bright red and his expression matched the outrage inside her. His anger. He didn’t like the duke holding her like this.

A murmur ran through the crowd. Duke Montagu looked towards the entrance, and Kearn did too. She glanced over, curious about what had their attention.

The female Venator.

Duke Montagu stopped dead and Amber almost fell, but managed to keep upright with only a little flailing of her arms. She wasn’t going to fall and be his.

He smiled ruefully.

“Excuse me. I must attend to some business. I am afraid we shall have to continue our dance later.” He walked away without a backwards glance, heading straight for the stairs and the Venator. As if. Amber wasn’t going to risk her neck by dancing with him again. She would leave before it happened.

She looked over at Kearn. He was gone. She scoured the crowd and saw him heading for the stairs too. Her heart ached. He probably had to greet the other Venator, just as he had the other night, but it didn’t mean she had to like it.

Amber walked back towards the side of the room, distracting herself from her jealousy by congratulating herself on surviving such a fast waltz and planning how to avoid the duke for the rest of the evening. Couples moved in again to dance, blocking her path. She carefully squeezed her way through, afraid of upsetting any vampire when Kearn wasn’t on hand to protect her.

She could see the edge of the dance floor when someone grabbed her arm and dragged her backwards. Their tight grip hurt and she tried to prise their black gloved fingers off her but they wouldn’t let go.

The music started again at a fast pace. The man spun her, pulled her into his arms so her chest pressed into his, and started to dance with her. His grip was unrelenting, tight against her ribs and her left hand. She pushed at his arm with her free hand and then froze when she looked up into his red eyes.

Even with the slim black mask hiding the top half of his face, she swore that she knew him. Her head felt fuzzy and light, and her feet knew the way even when she didn’t know the steps. A warm feeling suffused every inch of her and she drifted along in the man’s arms, no longer wanting to fight him. It was nice. She was enjoying it.

And she wanted more.

His hand left her side, skimming her shoulder, and she shuddered when his fingertips traced tantalising lines over her throat. She smiled and her eyelids fell to half-mast. Her mind turned hazy and she could only focus on the delicious feel of his touch. She wanted this.

She tilted her head back and to the side, still waltzing with him, lost in the tempo of her heart and the music.

His thumb caressed the left side of her throat. She flinched at the sting of pain and then sighed when he drew her closer to him. His body was hard against hers, strong like his grip on her, and she closed her eyes when their cheeks brushed.

Taste me.

Something warm tickled her neck. A point above it burned.

The man stopped with her, lowered his mouth to her throat, and wrapped his lips around it. Amber sighed and then moaned when the man sucked on her skin and a dizzying rush crashed through her. She leaned back, arching into the man, seeking more than just the pleasure of his forbidden kiss.

It was enthralling.

Beautiful.

Bliss.

She wanted more.

The world around her wavered and became silent save for the beating of her heart.

The man kissed her neck, licking it and growling against her skin. She smiled at the ceiling and clung to him.

She wanted to be his.

She wanted to go with him.

She would go with him.

Lover.

CHAPTER 13

K
earn stood to one side, a few feet from Duke Montagu as he greeted the female Venator. He wished the man would hurry. Amber was still on the dance floor. Another partner had caught her. It had been bad enough seeing her in the arms of his uncle. Seeing her in the arms of a younger male made his blood burn for violence.

He clenched his fists and glanced over at them. They were still dancing. Amber didn’t seem too afraid. Her blood was calm and she showed no outward sign of fear.

Lord Montagu and Earl Huntingdon glared at him from a short distance away. Both men were younger than he was and weaker, but this wasn’t the time to be considering the outcome of a fight. He had to hurry through greeting the Venator so he could get Amber out of that damned man’s arms and back into his.

The eyes of the vampires passing by and those around him bore into him, full of malice and laced with intent. He shut them out and focused on his business and Amber.

He had been prepared for the reception society had given him on his entering the ballroom but it had still hurt. Everyone had ensured that he remembered his status as an outcast. They had all tried hard to make him see how far he had fallen and how difficult it would be for him to regain his old place within his family and society.

And he wanted to.

Deep in his heart, he dreamed of retaking his place and longed to return to his family.

Being here around people who had once respected him and called him friend, people he had grown up with but who now looked down on him in contempt, made him feel as though he would never realise that dream.

He looked at his right hand and the intricate silver marks on his skin. He hated them for how they had altered his life and the duty they represented. He had never wanted it and the pain it had caused, and the way it had torn him away from his family and the world he had loved.

Kearn curled his fingers into a tight fist. It trembled. He hated being alone.

His gaze moved of its own volition over the heads of the dancers to find Amber. It was hard to spot her amongst the crowd. He searched for her a moment longer, needing to see her and know that he wasn’t alone here, and then turned back to the Venator.

The smell of blood hit his senses like a bulldozer.

Amber.

He would recognise it anywhere.

Kearn was moving in an instant. He growled when he saw the man holding Amber close, his head bent to her throat and hers tilted back. Her arms encircled his shoulders, her fingers tangling in his dark ponytail.

Sheer bliss lit her face.

People blocked his path, heading towards the source of the smell just as he was, only they wanted to hurt Amber, not protect her.

Kearn’s growl became a roar and his left hand went for his gun at the same moment as the marks on his right began to glow pale blue.

It was him.

The second Kearn drew his gun, the crowd screamed and scattered, running across his path and hindering him.

Amber.

His blood called out to hers and her eyes opened. They widened and then she struggled, trying to push the man away from her.

“Kearn!” she screamed.

He was coming.

Amber managed to break out of the man’s grasp but he grabbed her wrist.

Kearn looked down the line of his gun at the man’s back and kept running. The path between them cleared. He squeezed the trigger.

The man turned and flung Amber at Kearn. He reacted in an instant, jerking the gun up to the ceiling just as it fired so the bullet didn’t hit her, and catching her with his other arm to stop her from hitting the floor. His knee hit the parquet and then he stood with her, holding her close to him. She was bleeding badly. The scent of it was strong and there was a trail of red down the left side of her neck and over her chest.

The man stood on the opposite side of the room, facing him, perfectly still. Kearn couldn’t tell who he was with the mask on, but he was sure of one thing. This was the man he was after.

People ran between them, knocking them both in their panic and rush to safety, but they remained facing each other, staring into each other’s eyes, unmoving.

Several people stopped near him, their red eyes on Amber, and then edged towards him.

Kearn growled and his eyes turned crimson. He swept his arm around, pointing his gun at all of them, trying to clear them away. It was her blood driving them crazy, not the gunfire or anything else. They bore their fangs at him. He sneered, revealing his, and swept his gun over them again. The moment he threatened to squeeze the trigger, they fled, leaving the area between him and his enemy clear. Kearn’s focus snapped to him.

The man would pay for what he had done to Amber.

Kearn brought his gun around.

The man smiled.

Amber pulled out of Kearn’s grasp and blocked his line of sight. She stood at a slight angle to him, a vision in black and scarlet, her left hand behind her and her right trembling at her side.

Her hazel eyes went as round as saucers and sheer terror filled them.

“Demon!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

He shook his head and took a step towards her. He wasn’t a demon and he didn’t want her to see him that way. Blood ran down her throat and chest. Tears glistened on her pale cheeks. She clawed at her neck with her right hand, causing more blood to spill, and then held her trembling bloodstained hand out between them.

“You did this. Demon!”

Before he could react, she had pulled her left hand out from behind her back and attacked him. A flash of silver crossed his eyes. He raised his right arm to block her and cried out when the knife lodged deep in his forearm. Pain burned up his arm and he roared when Amber tried to pull the knife out to attack again. Her eyes were wild, wide and dancing around.

Kearn broke free of her grasp and pressed his hand against her head.

Sleep.

Her eyes slipped shut and she fell. Kearn caught her, grimacing at the feel of the short blade grating against the bone in his arm, and laid her on the ground. He hated to use such control over her but he couldn’t risk her attempting to hurt him again. He had to protect them both. She would remember everything she had done.

Kearn raised his gun but the man was gone, the rushing crowd swallowing him. It would be impossible to find him in the chaos and he couldn’t leave Amber. She was his priority. The man knew for certain now that she was a Source Blood. He would come for her again, and Kearn would be waiting for him.

He looked down at Amber.

Tears glittered on her solemn ashen face. She hadn’t cried out of fear. She had cried because she had known what she was doing. He had felt her pain and sorrow in his blood, her hurt and horror flowing in his veins. Kearn touched her cheek in a light caress. He shouldn’t have left her alone.

He pulled the knife from his arm and dropped it.

The dance floor emptied, most of the guests surging towards the stairs. Kearn growled at those who remained and dared to look at him or attempted to come near Amber, and put his gun away, leaving the knife on the floor. He cleared the brown waves of hair from Amber’s throat, careful as he removed the strands that had stuck to the cut. There was so much dried blood around it that he couldn’t see it clearly. He couldn’t risk cleaning it away in case the bleeding worsened. The smell of it already filled his senses and pushed at his control. Everyone in the room would be feeling the same. If Amber lost more blood, it would be difficult to get her out of the building without a fight, and it would be impossible for him to resist his desire to taste her again.