Rajmund (16 page)

She stiffened at the reminder they were right outside Buffalo's most popular restaurant. She buried her face against his shoulder and he chuckled softly. “I'll drive you home."

"No,” she protested. “I can—"

He tightened his hold. “Well, I can't,” he growled. “I don't want you out of my sight."

Fresh desire rolled through her body on a wave of warmth. “Okay,” she whispered.

Raj's car was parked right next to hers. He beeped the locks open and all but lifted her into the passenger seat, closing the door with a solid thunk. Sarah jumped a little at the sound, a jolt of adrenaline clearing her head long enough to wonder what she was doing in Raj's car, getting ready to drive back to her house and—

Raj leaned over from the driver's seat to give her a quick, hard kiss. “Don't think so hard, sweetheart. I'm not dangerous.” He spun the wheel in a tight circle, taking them past the startled valets and out of the parking lot. “Not to you anyway,” he muttered.

Sarah gave him a worried glance, but quickly realized she
liked
the idea that he might be dangerous. She liked this big, lethal vampire lusting after her, wanting her so badly that he'd been ready to take her right there in the parking lot. And he
had
been ready. She might not be experienced, but she knew when a man wanted her. Of course, she hadn't exactly been fighting him off either. She smiled, feeling just a little satisfied with herself.

Raj reached out at that moment to take her hand, raising it to his mouth for a soft kiss before settling it on his hard-muscled thigh. “Your place or mine, sweetheart?"

Sarah gave him a surprised look. “You have a place?"

He laughed. “Of course, I have a place. Where do you think I sleep, the local graveyard?"

Sarah blushed. “No,” she protested. “Of course not. I just thought . . . I don't know. Maybe a hotel?"

He snorted in dismissal. “Have you
seen
the local hotels? I'm from Manhattan, darling. I'm accustomed to a higher standard. So, what's it to be? I've got a turn coming up."

"My place, I guess,” Sarah said, beginning to worry again about what she'd gotten herself into. “I live—"

"I know where you live. I was supposed to meet you there."

"Then why—” She frowned at a sudden thought. “How'd you know which restaurant?"

He shrugged easily. “You said it was a celebration. There aren't that many places worth celebrating in around here. I got lucky and saw your car."

Sarah wasn't sure she believed him, but couldn't figure out any other way he'd have known where to find her. “Look, Raj—” He kissed her hand again, one finger at a time, with a lingering caress of his lips and just a touch of tongue.

"You're thinking again,” he said. “And besides . . .” He pulled to a stop in front of her house. “We're here, and I've earned at least a good-night kiss for seeing you home safely."

Sarah opened her mouth to reply, but he was already out of the car and at her open door, holding out his hand to help her. She knew better, but she took his hand anyway, letting him pull her into his embrace, knowing she'd feel that same tug of desire the minute . . .
Oh, God, yes.

Raj followed Sarah up the front stairs to a turn of the century duplex with a pair of old and slightly warped doors. The unit on the left was dark, but the twitch of a curtain told him someone was watching. Beneath the porch light, Sarah inserted her key and unlocked the crummy piece of shit masquerading as a deadbolt. The door opened and Raj breathed in the scent of her home, feeling a deep satisfaction flowing in, along with the unique fragrance that was Sarah. She looked up at him, her long hair a golden spill over soft shoulders, and his brain was suddenly filled with a single word.
Mine
. The thought hit him before he could stop it, and he frowned even as his body kicked hard into an instinctive response. His fangs were pushing eagerly through his gums, hungry for a taste of her blood, and his cock was stiffening with an entirely different sort of hunger. He'd never felt this instant attraction to a woman. He wasn't sure he liked it, but he definitely wanted it.

"Are you going to invite me in?” he asked lazily.

She looked up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. “Do you think I should?"

He gave her a shark's grin, tugging her close enough that she could feel his body's reaction. “Unless you'd rather do this on the porch so your neighbor can enjoy it too."

Sarah blushed hotly and stepped inside the house. “Come on in."

Raj paused long enough to wink at whoever was watching next door, and then followed Sarah, immediately closing the door behind him. She threw her coat over the stairway banister, kicked off her heels and started toward the back of the duplex. Without her coat, he could see she was wearing a skirt and sweater. It wasn't the silky, sheer dress of summer he'd wished for the other night, but it was very nice indeed, the skirt tight and clinging to her hips, accenting a very nicely rounded ass. He watched that ass as he followed her into the kitchen. She was muttering some nonsense about a cup of tea, lifting the kettle and shaking it before putting it back on the burner and twisting the knob to bring up the flame. When she turned to find him standing right behind her, she gave a little squeak of surprise.

"Are you afraid of me, Sarah?” he asked quietly, pushing her hair behind one ear with a gentle finger.

"Terrified,” she said with a nervous little laugh. “But not the way you think."

Raj's lips quirked up in a smile as he let his finger travel down her neck and over the fragile arc of her clavicle, coming to rest just above the full swell of her breasts, where he could feel the gentle beat of her heart. “I think you look good enough to eat."

"Oh,” she breathed. Her eyes, when they met his, were still wide, but no longer uncertain.

He closed the distance between them, pulling her against his body with a possessive arm around her waist, his hand on her hip as he bent down to breathe deeply of her warm scent. Her heart was racing, her breathing fast and shallow. Her breasts were soft against his chest, her nipples hard. He slid his hand beneath her sweater to touch the soft, warm silk of her skin and she melted into his embrace, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, her slender fingers playing with the ends of his hair, as she raised her face to his for a kiss. Wanting far more than playful kisses, Raj growled and fisted his fingers into her silky tresses, lowering his mouth to her bare neck. He could smell the blood flowing hot and sweet, could feel the rush of her jugular against his lips as he bent to taste. His fangs emerged slowly to graze the velvet of her skin, as hard and ready as his cock against her belly. She moaned softly, and he felt it as a gentle vibration against his heart. His woman. Her blood, his to drink; her body, his to take.

Raj froze. He raised his head and his hands stilled. He blinked against the nearly overwhelming need to sink his teeth into her, to lift her up onto the counter and take her right there in the kitchen. Sarah whimpered his name softly, hungrily.

What the hell?
He placed his hands on her shoulders and straightened his arms, forcing her away from him, putting enough space between them that he could draw a breath without inhaling the intoxicating aroma of her arousal. “Sarah,” he said, shaking her slightly. “Sarah!"

She protested softly, looking up at him in confusion with eyes that were blurred with desire. “Raj?” she said in a small, hurt voice.

"Fuck!” He pulled her against his chest once more, wrapping his arms around her tightly and trapping her arms between them. She struggled fitfully to touch him, stroking him with aborted little jerks of her hands. His own arousal tormented him, screaming at him to go ahead and take her. He buried his face in her hair and groaned. It would be so easy to lift her up, to slide that tight skirt up to her waist, spread her legs and pound his aching cock into her until they both came screaming. She wanted it. And God knew he did; his entire body was throbbing, aching with the need of it. But the very strength of his desire made him stop, because Raj didn't do this sort of thing, didn't lose control with any woman, much less one he barely knew. He was in control, always in control.

"Sarah,” he commanded. He took her delicate jaw in one hand and forced her to look at him.

"Raj,” she responded impatiently.

He sighed, regretting what he was about to do, wishing he was a bit more of a selfish bastard. But he wasn't. With a gentle nudge of her mind, he sent her to sleep, erasing her memories of the evening since her return home. She collapsed, but he caught her easily, lifting her in his arms, holding her against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder.

He carried her upstairs, twisting nearly sideways on the ridiculously narrow stairway, knowing the nosy neighbor was probably listening to every step. There were two rooms up there, one obviously an office of some sort. He ignored that one for the time being and opened the door to her bedroom with a gentle kick. A queen-sized bed filled most of the space, a single bedside table in the corner. A jewel-toned Tiffany style lamp sat on a dresser near the door, providing minimal light, but more than enough for his vampire sight.

He laid Sarah's limp form on the bed, shoving a huge pile of lace-trimmed pillows to the floor. He left her clothes on, although with slight misgivings. Not that he didn't want to see her sweet little body naked—he definitely wanted
that—
but he didn't want her to wake up wondering what he'd been doing with her while she was unconscious. Especially since he'd denied himself the pleasure of doing exactly those things she would have wondered about. It was one thing to pay the price for one's sins, but another entirely to pay the price without the pleasure of sinning first.

He tucked Sarah under the comforter, sliding her between the fresh-smelling sheets. She murmured softly, curling onto her side and snugging the remaining pillow beneath her cheek. Raj watched her breathe, in and out, indulging himself with a lingering touch on her pale cheek. He didn't understand what was going on. He had beautiful women lining up to bed him every night of the week. So, what was it about sweet Sarah that had him contemplating mayhem against any male who dared touch her? Had him acting like a raw child panting after the first fresh blood he'd ever tasted? Raj didn't like things he didn't understand, especially not when those things had the power to make him vulnerable.

He stood and crossed the hall to her office, which was even smaller than her bedroom. There was the usual computer paraphernalia, but mostly, the room was filled with books. Books on shelves, books in boxes, books stacked on the floor. Curious, Raj glanced at the titles. A lot of academic volumes with those convoluted titles the eggheads were so fond of. He moved to the next bookcase and grimaced. Romance fiction, a lot of it vampires. Em read these books by the dozen. She got a real kick out of passing them around to the guys and suggesting they could learn a few things.

He retrieved one of his business cards from its golden case and tucked it under her phone where she'd be sure to see it, then flicked off the desk lamp. Across the hall, Sarah was sleeping peacefully, her hair a tousle of gold, her long lashes dark against a barely visible pale cheek. Cursing himself for every kind of fool, Raj spun and took the narrow staircase quickly, walking back to the kitchen, where the damn tea kettle was screaming hysterically. He turned it off and stormed to the front door, his mood darkening with every step.

"Fuck!” he swore and just managed to stop himself from putting a fist through her wall. He had the whole damn night ahead of him, hard as a rock and walking away from the one woman he was aching to fuck. Someone was going to pay the price for his bad mood. Maybe it was time to question a few of the local vampires. He wanted to see some blood flowing and it sure as hell was not going to be his own.

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The blood house where Regina Aiello had disappeared was in the small village of Corfu, well beyond the main city, on a few acres bordered by the colorfully named Murder Creek. Raj had always wondered if that creek had been Krystof's motivation to purchase the property—a house on Murder Creek for the vampires to play in was just too great a temptation to pass up.

Outwardly, the place looked much the same as when Krystof bought it just after World War II—a nicely maintained, two-story clapboard with a covered porch. The front yard was covered by a manicured lawn, but the remaining acreage had been permitted to grow wild, with tall grass stretching out to either side, providing a buffer of privacy for what was really going on inside that simple white farm house.

Raj pulled the BMW over to the side of the road. There were no curbs this far out of the city. The house was filled to the brim and more, with people spilling out onto the porch and even into the yard where tables and chairs had been set up to accommodate the overflow. As far as he could see there was no control over who came and went, and sure as hell no one was checking IDs. What the fuck?

He strode across the uneven grass, his tread heavy on the soft ground. Couples were all but having sex in the front yard, vampires sinking fang in full view of the public road not twenty-five yards away. He grabbed a handful of long hair and pulled one of the offending vampires off his donor
de la nuit
. The vampire whipped around with a furious roar, fangs fully distended and dripping blood, hands curled into claws.

Raj gave him a bored look. “Who's in charge here?” he asked.

"Who the fuck are you?” the vampire snarled.

Raj didn't say a word. Using a small thread of power, he drove the vampire to his knees and then bent him backwards until the sound of vertebrae popping was so loud it could be heard over the pounding music coming from the house. The vampire could do little more than grunt in pain, but his eyes were wide with fear, gleaming golden yellow as they begged silently for mercy.

"I believe I asked you a question,” Raj said calmly. He released the vamp without warning, causing him to snap forward with such force that he did a full face plant in the grass before slowly, painfully, raising himself just enough to answer Raj's query.