Vampire's Companion (5 page)

Gian could turn Israel where he himself couldn’t risk it. But Terach’s gut burned envisioning it, though his sire had never been one to have sex with his vampire children as many deemed their right, and now Gian was mated to an Angelini who was capable of killing him if he cheated.

Would Israel prefer to be a companion rather than a vampire? Would he hate the loss of sunshine and day? Resent being trapped in helpless sleep and a life only lived at night?

“What’s wrong?” Israel repeated.

“Nothing.”
Everything.
“Tell me life with Estelle wasn’t a nightmare.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Ache pierced him like a poison-tipped javelin.

Israel lips twitched upward. “Not a nightmare. Not an erotic dream. There were good times, at the beginning.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Israel’s mouth curved into a full smile. “Or do, and make it up to me.”

He took the silky black strands of Israel’s hair, drawing him closer for a kiss as steamy as those they’d shared in the shower at Wyldfyres before leaving.

He swallowed Israel’s moans. Returned them as his shirt was unbuttoned, his jeans opened and his cock freed.

Exquisite pleasure surged through him when Israel grasped his shaft. Anticipation built when Israel’s mouth left his, traveling downward over bared flesh.

“Yes.” Panted at the feel of Israel’s breath against his cock, at the nearness of lips he already knew could deliver ecstasy.

His hips lifted at the rub of Israel’s tongue.

His fingers tightened in Israel’s hair with the slow suck of his cock head into Israel’s mouth.

Control was an illusion he couldn’t maintain.

He surrendered it. Lived only in the moment. Cared only about the demands imposed on him by aroused flesh.

He needed this. He wanted it.

It might require a lifetime to become fully sated.

“More,” he growled, a wildness filling him, the climb to completion rough, the burst of it over his senses a fiery release becoming heated addiction.

How am I going to give him up?

He didn’t want to. But neither did he want to own a slave.

“Let’s go inside,” he said, releasing his grip on Israel’s hair, determined to return the pleasure before surrendering Israel to Gian.

One of Brann’s sons served as bouncer. More and more of them were being called home since the Council’s Executioner had also taken an Angelini mate.

Gian’s vampires came as well. The old magic was returning, rising in power.

Terach knew it with certainty. Just as he knew that when the time was right, Gian would confirm it and share what he and Brann believed it meant.

The bouncer’s eyes narrowed, distaste riding his features. This close, there was no hiding the scent of sex or the existence of the slave bond.

He made no move to open the door for them. Terach did it, ushering Israel into the packed club. A hand on Israel’s back guided him to the private table where Nahir and Kyle sat on either side of Gian, co-owners of the club, men who’d been fledglings when his sire was.

Nahir stilled, ebony features frozen so completely he might have been carved in stone. His lack of expression signaled that centuries of friendship created a willingness to wait for an explanation, given that he too knew what it meant to be considered another’s property.

Kyle’s lips did a quick downturn before he flashed a glance at Gian and said, “Do you want us to leave?”

The moment swelled with Gian’s silence. Exploded with his brief laugh and the shake of his head. “This is how you court your unwilling companion? By presenting her with a male slave and lover?”

Israel’s pain and despair crashed into Terach like catapult-thrown stones, emotion so raw that it crushed the ability to speak.

A tiny application of will and he could block those feelings. But he let them assail him, though they hurt far worse than any whip taken to his back ever had.

Turn him, Sire.

No, and I forbid you from asking another to do it. He’s your responsibility.

Relief came with the edict.

Guilt sharpened.

Gian’s amusement fell away but wasn’t replaced by menace. “How do you find yourself in this unique position? The only one of my line, the only one of Brann’s line to be in possession of a slave?”

Israel focused his attention on a beer bottle on the table, wishing he could disappear into its depths. He remained silent as Terach explained the events at Wyldfyres.

It was just as well a
slave’s
version of events had no relevance. Speaking around the thick, choked-off swell of tears in his throat would have been a challenge.

He should have known this was too good to be real. Lost in blood lust and Terach’s defeat of Diarmid, he hadn’t questioned why he’d been shackled with a slave bond instead of asked to be a companion.

Now he knew.

He maintained the silence as Terach led him to a private bedroom in a restricted area of Fangs. His heart banged against his ribs like a prisoner’s tin cup against jail bars.

The instant the door closed behind them, he asked, “What now? Are you going to hand me off to the first taker? Turn me whether I want it or not?”

“Neither.”

It was like crashing into a wall.

“Neither?”

“Neither.” The word was sighed, accompanied by Terach’s sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders bent under the weight of the situation and hands clasped loosely between open thighs.

Fuck.
Would he rather Terach hadn’t stepped forward to claim him? Not been willing to fight when he desperately needed a rescue?

Israel pulled a chair over rather than join Terach on the bed. “Why were you at Wyldfyres if you have companion?”

“She doesn’t know what she is to me.”

“So I’m guessing she probably doesn’t know the rest of it either. Vampires. Werewolves. Angelini. How’d you screw up so royally?”

Terach’s laugh was brief but honest, bringing his head up so their eyes met.

It was like stepping into the past, with a polished bar between them and music-masked conversation as background to something far more private. The sense of rightness returned, anchored deep in his gut.

He wouldn’t let this opportunity to be with Terach go without a fight. His time with Estelle had taught him the importance of claiming happiness anytime it was within arm’s reach.

“Tell me,” he said, moving close enough their knees touched.

The contact sent fire up his thighs and into his cock. The raging hard-on that had disappeared at learning Terach had a companion returned in a ball-tightening rush.

Terach’s pupils dilated.

Good.

He’d been too long without touch to be satisfied with what they’d done in front of an audience at Wyldfyres, and the hot stroke of Terach’s hands on his body when they’d showered. “What’s her name?”

“Cia.”

Strangely, he found he liked the sound of it.

“How long have you known her?”

“This is the ninth night.”

He rocked backward, the answer like a knife strike.

Terach reached and Israel didn’t shake off the hand that landed on his bare shoulder. “It’s complicated. Probably easier if I show you.”

Israel flinched, because he could with Terach where he hadn’t dared with Estelle, not after the first time. He hated having his mind invaded. But when Terach’s hand fell away, he hated the lack of contact just as much. “Show me.”

“I’ll make it pleasurable.”

Terach opened his wrist, and like any addict, Israel was caught fast. He leaned forward, taking the blood along with the memories Terach shared of how he’d come to save a policewoman’s life without knowing more about her than her name and the fact she partnered with Rico, the human that Gian’s Angelini companion had chosen as her second mate.

When Terach drew his arm back, Israel followed it onto the bed. He released it there so Terach could close the wound with a tongue swipe, his tongue chasing the taste of blood and plundering Terach’s mouth on a moan.

Despite how the bond had come about, they had a history. The desire between them was real, a hunger that easily breached walls so all that mattered was the touch of skin to skin and the satisfaction of carnal craving.

A roll and he was on the bottom, Terach’s weight pressing cock to cock so his hips lurched upward to deepen the pleasure.

And then it got better.

Fangs pierced his neck. Terach drank deeply, and Israel’s heart raced as if it would pump life and soul out.

Desire built with each suck. Clothes tightened until they became unbearable.

Fangs retracted to quicken the moment when there was nothing between them.  He scrambled to shed the jeans he’d found in the small suitcase full of his possessions left at Wyldfyres.

Terach’s hands joined his in wrestling with their clothing. He shook with the need for Terach’s cock to slide into his ass.

They both shuddered when naked cock touched naked cock. He spread his legs. Canted his hips with the desperate need to be penetrated.

Terach laughed, a husky, pleased sound that signaled the beginning of sexual torment. His mouth claimed, his hunger unfeigned.

His hands roamed and then his lips followed. Grasping first one nipple bar and then another. Aggressive. Possessive.

Israel writhed and panted, hips jerking spasmodically. The rhythm controlled by flicked tongue and the clamp of teeth.

Each rub and press of his cock against taut abs poured fire into his bloodstream.

Terach moved lower.

Israel’s fingers plunged through hair as black as his though not as long.

White noise filled his head with the first touch of Terach’s mouth to his cock.

He bucked, cried out.

The door opened and recognition gained from Terach’s memories slammed into him. Cia stood there.

The woman who had what he wanted and didn’t appreciate it.

The woman who might cost him this shot at happiness.

His pulse surged, breath choked off.

No!
He couldn’t lose this.

His hips pumped upward in desperate movement, as if he could drive the reality of her away with the thrust of his cock.

Her eyes widened. Her lips parted slightly. Embarrassed flush receded to lust-enthralled streaks across her cheekbones.

Terach stilled, finally aware of her presence.

Masculine lips deserted him.

No!

“No!” Israel panted, hands tightening on Terach’s hair.

But Terach only lifted far enough to turn his head and look at his companion. “Join us.”

The words had the opposite effect, freeing her from voyeuristic trance so she turned and fled.

Terach ripped his hair from Israel’s grasp and stood.

Israel’s lungs froze even as his throat burned. “Don’t go!”

Terach’s gaze snapped from the doorway to him.

Words rushed out of Israel. “There’s nothing you can say that will do any good right now. Give her a chance to think about what she saw. It turned her on. Let her imagine what it would have been like if she’d obeyed your command.”

Some of the rigidness left Terach’s body. “You’re probably right, about waiting. Her desire flooded the companion bond.”

Ache sank into Israel’s chest like fiery talons. His heart slowed as if trapped in an unyielding fist. “We’ll make this work somehow.”

Terach climbed onto the bed, jeans hanging off his hips, his cock still hard against his abdomen. His hand encircled Israel’s shaft, stroked, sending a rush of ecstasy upward.

Israel forced thoughts of Cia from his mind.

Embrace the now. It’s all I can be certain of.

He moaned with the return of Terach’s lips to his. “You don’t know how often I dreamed of being with you,” he whispered, “both before I fell under Estelle’s spell and after she’d made me a slave.”

* * *

Heat coursed through Cia, primal and throbbing and terrifying in its intensity. It scorched her skin from the inside out, coating her with a thin layer of sweat and making her lungs labor for breath.

Join us.

No guilt. No shame in his expression. Only longing, his voice a seduction of her senses, his words like a knock requesting she open her heart and body for him.

Seconds in the doorway and her panties were drenched with arousal, her nipples hard points against her shirt. She’d
wanted to
join them.

No!
That wasn’t her.

She reached the door leading into the nightclub. Wrenching it open she welcomed the slam of loud music against her thoughts.

It drove back the confusion. It filled her head with a throbbing, overpowering beat. It offered escape.

A glance to the right and her throat closed. Rico and Gian stood at the bar with Skye between them, bodies touching and so obviously a threesome her throat burned.

How did he accept this? How could he want it?

Skye laughed and leaned forward. Light caught on her necklace, turning it into a hypnotist’s medallion.

It spun, peeling away a mental barrier erected and left in childhood so the threesome was suddenly bathed in deep red, raw passion and blood.

Cia stumbled, righted herself.
No! No! This stopped when I was ten.

She shook her head. But instead of diminish the color, it spread so that everyone around her was lined with it.

No! I don’t want this in my life.

She barreled through the crush of bodies, escaped into night air and sanity to find the kids outside Fangs captured in monochrome rather than vibrant color.

They glanced hopefully at the bouncer, as if her leaving meant one of them would be allowed inside.

She headed toward her car, desperate for distance and distraction, only her thoughts returned to the threesome at the bar.

Was that part of Skye’s appeal? That she was okay with the men in her life doing each other?

No. Cia couldn’t picture Rico and Gian together that way.

Images of Terach and his lover returned. The eroticism of what they’d been doing heated her skin and plumped her labia.

Join us.