Her Devoted Vampire (15 page)

Bridget
couldn’t get the vision of Fredrick feeding off him out of her head and had
retreated into silence. She’d been so wired on adrenaline, dawn had come before
she slipped into an uneasy slumber filled with dreams of Ms. White Fang. She’d
woken with her hand on her neck and vague memories of light and fire, the smell
of rain and a fresh spring breeze – in winter? – blasting through her.

She rubbed
her neck now, but nothing marred her skin. Not even a scar.

Goddesses, vampires, and werewolves, oh my
. She now had to accept them as real. The Ice Bitch was proof
enough, but when the “dogs” just morphed into people, well, that pretty much
confirmed that all the things Cynthia and Fredrick had told her were true. The
Goddess-born part she still didn’t quite understand, but Fredrick had promised
her to teach her if she wanted to know.

She swung
her gaze to look at him in the bed. He was still handsome, even with his eyes
closed and his body so still.

Does he really love me? And why should I care?

Because he saved your life, and you don’t want to
break his heart if you don’t feel the same, you dolt.

At least
she hadn’t seen the body of the Ice Bitch when they left the yard. She hadn’t
wanted to. She didn’t need that image in her nightmares, but Paul had told her Fredrick
had beheaded Ms. Vértolvaj in a move straight out of the Roman Coliseum,
scissoring her head off between his two blades.

Grimacing
at the thought, Bridget turned back to the window. She just thanked God she
didn’t have to see that.

God? According to Fredrick and Cynthia, I’m related to
a Goddess.
The
Goddess.
Not that it helped me last night. I couldn’t even outrun a vampire
.

She
still struggled with the truth that the world held vampires and werewolves in
it. Perhaps the movies and books actually did them a favor. The vampires she’d
met weren’t exactly like Dracula. Maybe Ms. Vértolvaj had been a little that
way. She certainly had thought herself superior to everyone around her except Fredrick.
The werewolves could change from one form to another on a whim, not necessarily
with the moon. Her period wasn’t due for another four days.

Bridget
felt a little slow and stupid. Fredrick had tried to tell her he could prove
vampires existed, but he’d have to hurt her. Unfortunately, Szilvia had done it
for him.

And it
had
hurt, badly.

So now
she believed. She simply had to. But where did that leave her? Where did she go
from here? Could she go back to her ordinary life, ignoring what she knew now that
she was no longer in danger? Or was she still in danger despite Szilvia’s
decapitation? She pressed her forehead against the glass, closed her eyes, and exhaled
a large plume of condensation.

“There is
an easier way to get out of this room, you know,” a voice said dryly behind her.
She turned around quickly to see Fredrick’s eyes open and a slight smile on his
face. “All you have to do is go through the door.”

She
snorted at the irony. “So says the man who captured me, held me prisoner, and
managed to lock me in all in the space of a few days.”

“You are
not being held now.”

“I know.”

“Why are
you still here if you know that?”

She
sighed again and crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned against the
window. “Because I don’t know where to go from here.”

“I’m
sure Cynthia could give you a map back to
Boston
.”

“No, not
where
to go, but where to go from
this place I find myself – Goddess-born in the company of vampires and
werewolves.” She snorted.
 
“How do you go
back to a normal existence after learning creatures of myth exist and you’re
one of them? I don’t really understand what I am, and I couldn’t explain it if
I even wanted to. I know too much, yet not enough, but it doesn’t matter
because no one out there would believe me anyway.”

Dread
sank into a heavy ball in her gut.
I’m so
alone
. It wasn’t really his fault – well, it was, but that hardly mattered
now.

“So you
have more knowledge than the human population around you. What is so wrong with
that?” Fredrick asked softly.

“Humans
are social. It’s almost impossible to live with a secret you can’t discuss with
anyone. Not because it’s bad or illegal, but it’s hard to be alone in company.”
She dropped her chin and closed her eyes. “My old life is over.”

He said
nothing to that, and defeat swarmed over her, worse even than when he’d slung her
over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She knew she acted like a victim, but
she’d puzzled over everything all night; and she still didn’t know what to do.
She’d hoped he might have a suggestion, but if
he
didn’t know what to do, she really was lost.

Woo-hoo, he saved me from death, but now that I’m
safe, he’s cutting me adrift.

That was
all he’d promised: to protect her from danger. Now she was free to go with his
blessing.

Gentle
hands settled on her upper arms, and she jumped, opening her eyes. Her gaze met
the chocolate brown gaze of her erstwhile captor, and compassion filled his
expression. The scents of spiced apples and roses covered her, and she recognized
it as his personal scent mixed with some sort of emotion.

Does compassion smell like roses?

“How do
you do that?”

“Do
what?”

“Smell
like spiced apples and roses. You’re not wearing some sort of cologne, are you?”

“No. I
didn’t know I smelled like that. I suppose it’s a step up from blood and
earth.”

Despite
the nasty description, she laughed. “Well, you certainly have Ms. Verto-whatever
beat. She smelled like rotting flesh and wet dirt.”

He made
a noncommittal sound and ran his hands over the sides of her face. She closed
her eyes again and leaned into his caresses. His lips pressed to her brow, and
then he trailed soft kisses down her nose, over her cheeks and one last one on
her chin. His scent changed from spiced apples and roses to chocolate, cloves
and cardamom as his enthusiasm mounted. He slid his hands over her shoulders
and down her sides to rest on her hips as he kissed her jaw line, then her
throat and side of her neck.

Fear
shot through Bridget as she felt his lips settle on her throat, and she
stiffened. The memory of the White Bitch’s attack stormed to the surface of her
thoughts, and she hunched her shoulders to her ears, squeaking like a mouse in
a cat’s clutches.

 
“I will never hurt you, Bridget,” Fredrick
promised as he drew back to look at her. “I only want to protect you, please
you, pleasure you, and love you. I will never feed off you. Ever.”

“But I
saw you.”

“Saw me?”
He raised his eyebrows.

“Saw you
feed off Paul last night, and he said it hurt.” She shuddered.

“Ah.”
The sound swelled with resignation. “Yes, I was desperate and needed blood.” He
tipped her head up so she could look into his dark brown eyes. “But I would
never do that to you unless I have your permission beforehand. You’re far too
special to use so callously.. I never realized how much I was missing until I
found you. There can be no other for me. I have lived a long time, and seen
much, but nothing compares to the light you carry, my lady Bridget. Nothing at
all in this world.”

She
stared at him for a few moments, trying to see if he was making fun of her or
handing her a line. She’d heard something similar from her last manipulative
boyfriend, and he always said like it was some sort of joke. Just as trick to
get his dick wet.

But Fredrick
stood in front of her with the color slowly coming back to his cheeks and his
eyes blazing as if a fire burned behind them, and Bridget knew he told her the
truth. She
felt
it like a piece of
ribbon sliding over her skin or tugging on her littlest finger. Their connection
had strengthened since he first placed her hand on his chest. She could almost
taste the intent behind his words.

“I
believe you,” she said at last and smiled tentatively.

Relief
splashed through her from him, and she traced a finger around the edges of his
mouth before she knew she’d moved. Desire and arousal flared as his mouth
twitched, and she stood up on her tiptoes to lay a hesitant kiss on his lips.

Fredrick
moaned with pleasure and relaxed into her kiss, sliding his hands around to her
back to press her against his body. She laid her hands on the soft hairs on his
chest and tilted her head to allow him closer. His scent intensified as their kiss
deepened, and she opened her mouth a little to let his tongue in. He relaxed
and allowed her to take the lead on how deep she would go.

Bridget
kissed him more, sliding her tongue into his mouth and over his teeth,
searching for his elongated canines. When she found them she took her time
stroking them with the tip of her tongue until she felt them grow larger and
sharper. He moaned again, and his hands tightened their hold on her back at her
lingual caress. Something hard and warm pressed into her belly, and she backed
off a little. Who knew a vampire’s canines were so sensitive?

Careful
not to draw blood on his sharp teeth, she moved her tongue down to test the
lower, shorter canines. His moan deepened to an aroused growl, and she almost
giggled with delight.

Like that, do you?

The
cloves portion of his musk overwhelmed his other scents as his breathing
quickened. Enjoying her power, she slid her hands downward until they traced
his ribs on his sides, and he gasped with surprised pleasure, throwing his head
back.

Oh yeah, I’ve got you now
.

In a
flash of inspiration, she ducked her head and kissed him between his pectoral
muscles, inhaling his delicious scents. He sucked his breath in quickly through
his nose and dropped his head to look down at her with delighted incredulity. She
ignored him and trailed kisses across his broad chest to his left nipple before
encircling it with her tongue. His heart thundered beneath her cheek as she
closed her lips and sucked on it. A groan ripped from him, shifting into an
amazed hiss as she closed her teeth gently around the small, hardened nub.

“Goddess,
Bridget, if you continue, I don’t think I can hold back,” he whispered, placing
his hands on either side of her face to tilt it upwards. “I don’t want to force
you, but I have only so much restraint to keep myself from taking you if you
push me much more.”

“You
said you loved me.”

“I
do
love you,” Fredrick said, his voice
thick. “But even I don’t have the strength to override my baser instincts when
it comes to a woman I want as much as I want you. Your body calls to me.”

“You
mean my blood.”

“No, you
saw me feed from Paul. Your body is beautiful and full and so…so…” Words failed
him, and he closed his eyes as he nuzzled her cheek and jaw-line. “I want to
glory in it, to show you I am worthy of your gift. I want to show you the
pleasure making love to you will give me.”

When she
frowned, puzzled, he smiled slowly with sensual promise.

“I want
you to see my satisfaction in giving your body pleasure. You’re a woman who is meant
to be savored and adored. Anyone who simply took quick release from you has
done you a disservice. You’re the embodiment of the Goddess and should be
treated as such, but you are also the woman I care for most in this whole world.
I love your body, your smell, your smile, your eyes, your sharp temper, the
fire in your heart, your courage in accepting what I am. What we all are.”

He
stopped and stood up taller, looking deeply into her eyes. His scent changed
again to ginger and cayenne pepper as the fires of want and truth burned
through his voice. “If you wish to leave, you are free to go. I won’t stop you.
But know that I would rather you stay forever with me so that I can worship you
as my lover, my Goddess, my wife.”

“Your
what?”

Fredrick
smiled a smile full of the promise of sex, pleasure, and love. Then he closed
the distance between them and pressed the already thick bulge in his shorts
against her pelvis.

“My wife
if you’ll have me,” he whispered in her ear as his hands rested against her
hips. “Bridget Erin Diana Shanahan, would you marry me and be a vampire’s
lover?” He dropped his lips to her collar bone and nibbled the edges of her
throat.

Bridget
sighed, feeling the lust surge from where she’d tamped it down. His hair fell
around her face, and she inhaled the flowery shampoo he must have used. His
kisses became more insistent, and she almost let go and let him do whatever he
wanted to her. It had been years since a man had taken the time to make her
feel good, and she was loath to pass up the opportunity.

“Will
you, Bridget?” His voice flowed over her like his hair: thick, warm, velvety
and fragrant. She didn’t want to say anything, but she knew he needed an
answer.