Twice Tempted (28 page)

“There,” Vlad said, pointing to the open slot in the wall.

I fell on the bag it contained, tearing into it like the shark from
Jaws
. When I was done, blood dripped from my face, hands, and chest. I only became aware that I’d started licking myself when Vlad’s low laugh broke my hunger-induced trance.

“I must admit, this gives me ideas.”

Embarrassment rose, giving me the strength to stop cleaning my hands like some deranged cat. Vlad sat on the mattress, back braced against the wall and legs casually splayed. He’d changed since I last saw him, and though his deep purple shirt was spotless, as were his ebony pants, with one whiff, I knew where he’d been before coming here.

“You went back to the dungeon.”

His smile held more than a hint of grimness. “Perhaps I’ll have it sprayed with Febreze after all.”

I ran my hand through my hair after one final lick. “We agreed I’d look for Cynthiana the
other
way.”

“With you asleep, I had some time to kill.”

His voice was light, but an undercurrent of tempered irritation brushed my emotions. I sighed.

“I know you’re not used to explaining yourself, but that’s marriage.
I’m
not used to waking up with an uncontrollable hunger, so we’re both going through an adjustment phase.”

Now a different kind of smile curled his lips. “Yours will only last a week. Mine, a lifetime.”

I laughed dryly. “If you wanted a wife who never questioned your actions, you shouldn’t have married me.”

Something else teased my emotions, sliding through them like swaths of sensual fire. A richer, warmer scent filled the room, reminding me of simmering spices and wood smoke.

“Agreed. But I wanted you more than subservience.”

His voice was throatier, tightening things low within me. I swallowed, hunger of a different sort making my fangs lengthen. He looked so polished in his tailored clothes, so relaxed leaning against the wall, yet his emotions told a different story. I might be the one bloody and disheveled, but I wasn’t the real feral creature in the room.

And I wouldn’t have him any other way.

Then I shook my head to clear the explicit thoughts starting to crowd it. I had a murderous vampire to hunt plus a traumatized father to calm down. My dance card didn’t have room for hours of sex and Vlad didn’t do quickies.

“I need to shower,” I said, and it sounded breathless even though I didn’t breathe anymore.

His smile turned dangerously carnal. “Afterward.”

“Vlad, really, there’s so much we need to do—”

“Remember when you said you wouldn’t accept ranking a constant second to others?” he interrupted in a silky voice. “Neither will I.”

He was beside me in a blink, pressing an inner button in that retractable drawer. Another blood bag popped out as if it were a vending machine. Before I could speak, Vlad crushed it against his chest, covering himself in crimson rivulets.

Need rose with such ferocity that it annihilated my conscience. I wasn’t embarrassed by how I flung myself at him. Didn’t care that he tore my clothes off as savagely as I ripped away his in my quest for every last drop, and I
really
didn’t mind when he backed me into the wall and yanked my legs around his waist. Then there was nothing except the taste of blood on his skin and the exquisite roughness of his body plunging into mine, over and over, until the ecstasy searing through me made me forget about my hunger.

I
t was a quarter after ten when I emerged fully clothed from the bathroom. Vlad was already redressed and waiting since I’d made him shower elsewhere. Otherwise, it would have been even later, which he had no qualms about. Shrapnel wasn’t going anywhere, Cynthiana didn’t yet know she’d been discovered, and our honeymoon had been ruined enough, he’d stated.

“Before I get started with Shrapnel, I need to see my dad,” I told Vlad. “He’s pretty freaked out. Can you stay close in case I get slammed with the bloodthirsties again?”

Vlad had been drinking wine, but at that, he set it down.

“Many humans who know about vampires have difficulty accepting a loved one’s transformation. It can cause feelings of fear, alienation, and helplessness. For someone used to being in control, like your father, those feelings are often magnified.”

His carefully worded statements made me uneasy. Normally, Vlad was blunt to the point of brusqueness. Something was up. “No sugarcoating. What happened?”

“He doesn’t want to see you right now and he’s insisting on leaving with Gretchen,” he replied with his usual directness. “I do have other houses where they’d be safe, but I refused to let him go unless you agreed to it.”

I now had superhuman strength, but I sat as though my knees had turned to jelly.

“Gretchen doesn’t want to see me, either?” Maybe I’d misread her demeanor before . . .

“No, your sister was vehement about staying here, which only made your father more determined to take her with him.”

Then Vlad gave me a jaded look. “He doesn’t realize it, but he’s trying to regain control where there is none. He still loves you. If he didn’t, his reaction to you becoming a vampire wouldn’t be so emotional.”

I said nothing, thinking how strange life was. When I was a child, my father’s job moved us from place to place without regard for how upsetting those upheavals were. Now it was my circumstances that kept uprooting him from the life he’d built.
Karma’s a bitch
, Cat had said, yet I didn’t want my dad to receive any comeuppance. I wanted him to be happy, and be safe.

“Let him go, but wait until tomorrow morning. I want a chance to talk to Gretchen first.”

My voice was soft yet steady. I knew what it was like to need to leave, if only to prove to yourself that you could. As for Gretchen, it was better that she go with him. With my ravenous new hunger, I couldn’t trust myself to be around her. Besides, things were about to get more dangerous around here, not less.

Then I rose, giving Vlad a crooked smile.

“Now, let’s see if I can find that crazy bitch you used to date.”

I
thought we’d go back to the dungeon and I’d pick up Cynthiana’s essence trail from touching Shrapnel, but Vlad led me to the Weapons Room instead. There, he handed me a silver dagger with a Celtic design in its filigreed hilt.

“Hers,” he stated.

It took me a second to remember why it looked familiar. Then I let out a short laugh.

“It sure was. I touched this when I was going through your other weapons. Shortly after glimpsing the woman connected to it, I started hemorrhaging to death.”

Just as Cynthiana’s linking spell intended, though she hadn’t counted on Vlad being there to revive me. Or on Maximus doing the same the other time linking to her caused lethal damage. Now my own inhuman state was all I needed to protect me.

Karma’s a bitch
sounded just fine for these circumstances.

I pulled my right glove off and touched the pretty weapon. To my surprise, my first instinct was to jerk away. The metal made my skin itch in a way that reminded me of when I’d fallen into a poison ivy patch as a child.

“That feels . . . wrong. Is that from the silver?”

His amusement curled through my emotions. “You’ll get used to it. All vampires do.”

I tried to ignore how irritated the metal made my skin feel and focused on the essence it contained. After a few minutes of concentrating, colorless images took over.

We reached my door, but when Vlad started to leave after bidding me good night, I caught his sleeve.

“Wait.” Then I drew the knife from the folds of my coat and extended it to him hilt first.

“For you,” I murmured.

He took it, his mouth curling into a half smile.

“What’s this? An early Christmas present?”

“Do I need occasion to give you a gift?” I asked lightly.

He flipped the blade before catching it. “Perfectly balanced. Thank you, Cynthiana. It’s lovely.”

Then he leaned over, his warm lips brushing mine. When he started to pull away, I held on.

“Don’t go,” I whispered against his mouth.

He drew back with a frown. “One of my people is missing. I won’t wait until morning to search for him.”

“I’m sorry, of course not, dearie,” I said, knowing better than to point out that he could send someone else.

He put the knife away in his coat. “Good night, Cynthiana.”

“Good night, Vlad.”

I watched him go, masking my frustration with a smile in case he glanced back. He didn’t. He never did, and his visits had become more infrequent. I hadn’t lived three hundred years without knowing what that meant. He was growing tired of me.

My smile turned brittle. I’d been too long without the protection I deserved and I wasn’t about to lose my place by the side of such a powerful vampire. Risky or not, it was time to employ more persuasive means to keep Vlad with me. If I was careful, he’d never know the cause for his newfound affection.

My link to the memory dissolved and I returned to reality to find I clutched the knife so hard, it had cut my hand. Then I stared at Vlad, a suspicion growing.

“Did Cynthiana move in with you shortly after she gave you this?”

His brow arched. “I believe so, why?”

“Just wondering. Did you know she was into magic?”

A shrug. “I knew she dabbled, but magic is against vampire law so a more serious pursuit wasn’t worth the risk to her.”

“Or she was more involved than she let on.”

What if it wasn’t coincidence that Cynthiana moved in with him shortly after she decided to use more “persuasive” means to keep him from dumping her? If so, then we weren’t dealing with an amateur who dabbled in the occasional spell, but a full-blown witch who might be more dangerous than either Vlad or I realized.

Chapter 41

I
looked at the knife with more wariness than before. As a vampire, another heart attack or spontaneous hemorrhaging would hurt, but they wouldn’t be fatal. Still, if she was a powerful witch in disguise, there was the chance that Cynthiana had rigged her spell to do something lethal to vampires, too.

“Keep an eye on what I do with the knife, okay?”

When I looked up, Vlad’s eyes had narrowed. He inhaled and then smiled so pleasantly I should’ve taken it as a warning.

“Why?”

“If your ex turns out to be more Wicked Witch of the West than we realized, there’s a chance that her spell might make me try to stab myself, heh heh, in the heart.”

My little laugh to indicate how remote I thought this possibility was didn’t work. His whole face began to darken, though that charming smile never slipped.

“You might be the cruelest person I’ve ever met,” he said in a conversational tone.

“What?” I gasped.

“My first wife killed herself. Took me centuries to get over it and love again, yet you weren’t going to mention that you might be compelled to slay yourself
in front of me
.”

His casual tone vanished, replaced by one of pure rage. That was nothing compared to the fury that flooded my emotions, abrupt as a dam bursting and so forceful I took a step backward.

“Vlad, I—”

“Don’t. Speak.”

Fire erupted from his hands, climbing up his arms to his shoulders before haloing his whole body with an orange glow. I would’ve thought he was trying to intimidate me, except from the maelstrom of his emotions, he couldn’t stop it.

“I’ve tried to let you do what you feel you must because I respect your bravery, but you push me too far.” Another flare of fire. “Attempt one more time to willfully endanger your life, and I swear I will imprison you.”

Before I could voice my outrage at that ultimatum, he vanished, leaving nothing behind except the smell of smoke.

“H
ey, kid.”

I glanced up to see Marty in the doorway of the stone cell. I hadn’t even noticed it opening. I’d shut myself in here because I didn’t want to hurt anyone if another hunger attack struck, plus it had the plasma bag delivery system. Drowning my frustrations with blood sounded disgusting in theory. In practice, it was as effective as liquor and ice cream combined.

“Maximus was right when he warned me about Vlad,” I said glumly. “Did you overhear him threaten to imprison me?”

A pitying look crossed Marty’s face, which was my answer.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I went on, patting the spot next to me in invitation. “I love Vlad, but sometimes he is
so
archaic
. Can you imagine how he’d react if I told him he wasn’t allowed to risk his life for his people anymore?”

“He wouldn’t listen,” Marty said, sitting by me on the bed.

“Right. So how is that different from me assuming some risk in order to hunt down the bitch that nearly killed me three times and succeeded on the fourth attempt?”

“He’s a chauvinist?” Marty offered.

“Exactly.” Then I glanced over, seeing the wryness stamped on his features. “What?”

“You’re the only one surprised by this, kid. You married a borderline psychotic who conquered the brutal circumstances he grew up in by being even more brutal. Add turning into a vampire and centuries of undead power struggles, and you have the crazy cruel bastard you fell in love with.”

He patted my knee in a companionable way. “Did you really think someone like that would let his wife fight his enemies for him? They call him Vlad the Impaler, not Vlad the Emasculated.”

I let out a scoff. “I’m not trying to fight his enemies for him.”

“In his eyes you are, and worse, you’re ready to die to do it.” Another pat. “Like you already did once, baby vamp.”

I leaned against him, angling my head so it rested on his shoulder. “What am I supposed to do? Let him dictate my every move because he’s the medieval version of old-fashioned? I didn’t sign on for that.”

He chuckled dryly. “No, you signed on for something harder. Marriage.”