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Luc
The delicious perfume of honey surrounds her. I noticed it briefly when she assisted me into her home, but now she must be leaning directly over me, as the heady scent has intensified ten-fold. I’m tempted to take just a nibble, to see if she tastes as delicious as she smells.
I won’t.
But I want to.
I open my eyes and, sure enough, meet her suddenly startled gaze only a few inches from my own face. Her irises are a delightful shade of hazel that shifts from gray-green to brown and back again, depending on the moment. I’ve never seen eyes like hers before. I can’t help but stare.
It’s hard to pinpoint their color, actually. It changes seemingly at whim, but whatever their truth, her eyes are a perfect match for the cascading dark-brown hair falling in waves across her shoulders and down. My fingers itch to tangle in that glorious hair.
“Oh!” She jumps back, as if afraid I’ll lurch up and have her for dinner.
Her fingers spasm at her side and this time I wonder if she’ll unsheathe that ridiculous wooden stake. How long has she been carrying it around, thinking it provides her with any real safety? The spindly end wouldn’t even make it through my layers of clothing, let alone penetrate my skin or drill deep enough to pierce my heart.
I cock my head to the side, taking in her hand, her long fingers. Despite the feminine length, I know she’s more than just a pretty face. For her to be here, by herself, means she has to know how to handle the land. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to survive. I wonder if she crafted the stake herself, or if she purchased it from someone using fear to make a buck.
I consider snatching it off her and snapping it in half, but that would be rude. She has shown kindness in providing shelter when that action is clearly against her instinct. The last thing I want is to have her question her kindness. I don’t want to be the reason she doesn’t offer it again.
Instead, I take a deep breath and suck air into my lungs, not because I need to, but because sometimes it just feels good. It’s a reminder of what it was like to be alive. And at this moment, it provides a way to draw her enticing scent all the way down to the center of my being.
My cock stirs and I have to concentrate to keep my body in check. It has been a long time since I felt the rush of desire as keenly as I did when I first caught Aleah’s scent. It’s almost embarrassing how much I want her, and it takes great effort to keep myself restrained.
“Sorry,” she says in a voice husky with what sounds like embarrassment. Her hand goes to her hair and begins to fuss with the long locks. The movement fascinates me. “You weren’t breathing. It’s been hours, and I couldn’t tell if you were...well...actually dead.”
“I am.” I sit up and test my arm and shoulder. I can’t continue to look at that hair or the way she’s running her fingers through it. If I do, I’ll reach out and do the same thing, and that’s the last thing either of us needs.
My injury is much better. Almost completely healed and only a small residue of pain and scarring left over the crush wound where the werewolf’s jaws caught me unexpectedly. I must have slept for longer than I planned. A glance toward the window shows the blind now raised and the gray of early evening already draping the sky.
More than a few hours, then.
I must have been out for the count for almost the whole day.
“You’re not, though. Dead, I mean.” Her voice is still low, and I realize it’s not embarrassment fueling the huskiness. It must just be the way she speaks. The rasp is rather sexy, but without my refined hearing ability I doubt I could pick up all her words.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but you do know I’m a vamp—”
“Of course, I know that.” Acid colors her tone. “But you’re undead, not dead. There’s a difference. I should know.”
She bristles, crossing her arms over her chest.
The penny drops and curiosity blooms as I realize what kind of fae has invited me into her home. I narrow my eyes. “You’re a banshee.”
One of the rarest and most misunderstood of all the fae.
Some say they’re not strictly fae at all. Many are afraid of the banshee cry, which purportedly means death for those who hear it. From all accounts there are very few left in the world today, and those still here are making noises about returning forever to the fae realm.
Is Aleah one of those fair folk who eventually plans to forsake the mortal world?
Her arms wrap even tighter across her chest and she looks away. I’m not sure she’s going to answer when she finally mutters, “Half.”
“Ah.” A hybrid. Lucky for her I fed last night, or I’d be all over that delectable neck in a heartbeat. Her heartbeat. Hybrid blood is the most delicious aphrodisiac known to my kind.
I’m surprised she admitted such a thing. She clearly doesn’t trust me—and for good reason. I don’t hold her caution against her. This isn’t the typical environment for supes—which is probably why she chose this dwelling in the first place. But the fact that she’s a half-breed puts her even more at risk.
From supes. And definitely from me.
No wonder my loins are stirring so vigorously. It’s her blood, calling to mine. Nothing more, nothing less. Pure lust, fueled by the desire to feast on a hybrid human-fae.
My trousers tighten further across my groin. Her gaze drops only briefly but the instant flush of color in her cheeks is telling. I should hide my desire for her. I should probably have a little more shame.
But I don’t.
If anything, I’m curious to know how she’ll respond.
I lean back, letting my thighs drop open a little wider both to ease my own discomfort and add to hers. Do you like what you see, Aleah? Fae are notoriously sexual beings, but little Miss Half-and-half, here, is acting as if she has never even seen a member of the opposite sex, let alone enjoyed the carnal delights both our species often celebrate.
She turns away, and then back again as if she has gotten herself under control. The flush in her cheeks is gone, but that glorious pulse at the base of her throat beats faster than it did a minute ago. I eye that beat, enjoying its tempo and imagining the flavor of her blood. Would it taste like honey?
Or something even sweeter, perhaps?
“I’d offer you something to drink, but...”
She shrugs and for the first time the hint of a smile that seems entirely genuine graces her lips. Only for a moment, but it’s enough that I want to see it again.
“What?” she asks, as though something is wrong.
I blink. I don’t realize at first that I’m staring at her lips. When I do, I force my gaze upward to focus on her eyes instead.
“Nothing,” I say. “It’s just...”
“Yes?”
“I didn’t realize banshees had the capacity to make jokes.”
She rolls her eyes, making no move to hide the obvious exasperation.
I close my legs. Baiting her seems petty, and the moment for teasing is past. “You’ll be safe for another day or so, and by then I’ll be long gone.”
My body is back under control and I no longer have the urge to unsheathe my incisors. At least, that’s what I tell myself. I stifle a heartfelt growl at the residual ache in my groin.
“I need to report in to my department.” I rise to my feet and reach for her hand.
As quick as my movement is, hers is quicker. Her fist clutches the stake so tightly her knuckles turn white. She wields the poor excuse for a weapon in front of her.
Those beautiful eyes are narrowed and no longer soft and mysterious.
“Stay back,” she commands, her voice firm.
“I merely wished to thank you for your assistance.” I raise up my hands in defense. “You saved my life this morning, Aleah. Or did you forget?”
“Oh. Okay.” Slowly, she lowers the weapon.
I strike with my kind’s natural speed, seizing her wrist and twisting hard to force her to drop the piece of wood.
She releases a soft shriek that is stifled before it can fully form. I pull her close, wrapping one arm around her waist and raising her imprisoned hand to my mouth.
“I meant it, Aleah.” I hope she can detect the sincerity in my tone. It’s important she understands. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t care, but for some reason she makes things feel different. “This is merely a thank you.”
When my lips graze her skin, I taste honey and sunlight, and all things bright and warm. It’s unexpected in a banshee. In fact, everything about Aleah is unexpected. The only one of her kind I’ve come across in the past may have been a dark-haired beauty like this one, but was full of bitterness and sorrow and lost regret.
Perhaps the human aspect of her blood provides hope, where normally such an emotion would not reside?
I flip her hand until it is palm up and only a couple of inches from my lips. Her radial artery pulses fast and strong. Life force. Lifeblood. The rush of adrenalin is instant, causing my fangs to unsheathe and the flesh between my legs to harden once again.
So much for remaining in control.
I almost feel silly. I shouldn’t let something as inconsequential as lust make my body do things without permission. It reminds me of how I used to act when I was first turned, more animal than human, searching for a way to satiate the most basic needs of food and sex.
Her intake of breath is sharp. I can’t tell if fear or desire drives her to wriggle within my firm hold, but the action only serves to entice my flesh to full erection.
“Stop moving, little banshee, unless...” Unless you’re ready to sink your sweet body onto my hungry cock and let craving take us beyond thought into another state of being altogether.
I don’t need to complete the warning. Her body stills instantly, a delightful pink flush spreading out across her cheeks.
There’s an inner war playing out within her changeable eyes. It’s obvious that she craves me in return, and yet the craving clearly horrifies her. Delight and revulsion combat. Which emotion will win out? Her small white teeth—so neat and even and nothing like my pointed fangs—worry at her plump bottom lip. Plump, pink, blood-filled lips.
I want to taste those lips.
“Don’t.” She shakes her head, correctly interpreting my thought process. A delicate shiver trembles through her body still pinned against mine. “You promised.”
Forget lips. I want to taste every delicious inch of this creature.
The need grows and I can’t help myself. Her wrist is still only an inch from my hungry fangs. I flick out my tongue and lick the radial pulse, enjoying the crazy beat. It seems to jump at my touch. My cock twitches at the way she’s affected. Because of me. Heaven.
Her scent—indeed, her lifeblood—rushes through that vein in pulsing waves. Only the barest membrane separates my mouth from the ambrosia on tap beneath her skin. All I need to do is pierce her skin with the tip of my fang. It could be over in less than a second.
It could be so quick, she wouldn’t even realize what was happening.
Her life force. Mine.
The pull is almost too powerful to resist. I graze her wrist with the tip of a fang and prepare to breach. A slow, purring growl erupts from my chest in anticipation of the rush.
She tries to yank away her hand.
“No!” I tighten my hold. “Do. Not. Move.”
Her rapid breath hitches and then stops altogether. Silence reigns as I wrestle against my nature. Hybrid blood to a vampire is like crack to an addict.
Impossible to resist. Impossible...
Precious seconds tick away, until finally, somehow, I find the strength to twist my head to one side and release us both from our stasis.
Her breathing recommences more unevenly than before, as if she’s aware of just how close I came to taking her blood. That danger is receding but could re-emerge at any second, and by her wary narrow-eyed look, she knows it, too.
“I didn’t promise, actually.” I aim for levity but it is clear that neither of us are quite ready. “To set the record straight, I said I’d try. But I believe it may be safe for you to move now.”
I retract my fangs, giving truth to the words, and let her hand drop. I expect her to jump away from someone she probably sees as a rabid monster. What possessed me?
Like most vampires since the Accord, I never take blood without first gaining permission. There are any number of vampire groupies around—even in a rural location like Hatton Grove—who will throw themselves at my kind.
The taking of blood is closely connected to the sexual experience. It can heighten the sensation of lovemaking for both giver and taker, and most humans will never experience an orgasm as intense as the one a vampire will deliver for them during sex.
Aleah seems like the antithesis of a vamp groupie. I wait for the inevitable recoil and yet, for some reason, her body remains pressed close against mine.
Why?
I’m surprised by how difficult it is just moving away from her. Not only because she’s a hybrid, but it feels like something else, something I can’t quite put my finger on.
Tentatively, I raise my hands and grip her loosely around the hips. Still she doesn’t pull away. I become aware of many things all at once. The slightness of her build despite her height, which is extraordinary; she pretty much single-handedly carried me inside early this morning. The bemused look in her eyes that are once again soft and dreamy, their hazel depths encouraging a deep dive within to discover more of her mysterious soul. The enticing warmth of her thighs against mine that offer a silent invitation for so much more.
My erection reforms for a third time, the softness of her lower belly juxtaposing beautifully against the firm ridge of my flesh. I may have been able to sheathe my fangs, at least temporarily, but my cock refuses to comply. I should be able to command it the same way I do every other part of my body, but Aleah makes it so easy for me to lose control.
And I’m in no rush to regain it.
Her mouth is half parted, the tip of her tongue darting out to moisten her lips. My eyes are drawn to them and I muffle a slight moan. So luscious.
Is she doing this on purpose?
She’s calling out to be kissed, even if she won’t admit that thought consciously. I push a loose tendril of hair off her cheek and lean in, testing her reaction. A quick shake of her head provides one message, while the heat between her legs intensifies. I know, because her mound is nicely sandwiched against the base of my cock and that heat sends an altogether different message.
“Mixed communication, little banshee,” I murmur against her mouth.
She doesn’t pull away. Instead, her panting breath warms my lips. I secure her more tightly, cradling her butt cheeks in my palms and using my strength to hold her in place. Pressure centers fully in my groin and my balls tighten in anticipation of imminent coupling.
“Which is it, Aleah? Do I stay, or do I leave?”
“I don’t understand this.” Her voice is deliciously raspy, more so than it has been thus far. Her eyes darken from a golden color to molten bronze, like melting caramel.
She can pretend all she wants, but her body gives away her need. “Are you...hypnotizing me, or something?”
“Hypnotizing?” My laugh is brief, but intense. “You’ve been watching too much television. I can influence humans, up to a point. But no vampire can influence a fae. Yes, the lure of a vampire to a hybrid is almost as strong as the reverse, but it’s a purely physical lure with no mind-fuck involved. I seriously doubt I could influence you to do anything you don’t wish to do, half-fae or not. This decision is all on you. If you want me to leave, then say so now.”
“No, I...” She closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them and meets my gaze squarely. Surprisingly, the confusion remains. She shifts her weight and my cock responds.
I press my lips together to keep a groan from releasing. I need her to be sure about this. It won’t be as good if she thinks I’m manipulating her into wanting sex with me.
“I don’t know what I want,” she says. “I hate vampires. I’ve always hated them.”
Hmm. Nothing ambiguous about that. Why does she hate my kind so relentlessly?
I’m about to ask her when she continues to speak.
“But I can’t seem to say no to wanting you to stay.”
“Of course, you can’t.” My grin is smug. “And why would you want to? I am known for my prowess in the bedroom. And right this minute...Aleah, I need to taste—”
“No blood!” she shrieks. Her fingers curl into tight fists. I get the impression she may even try to retrieve her discarded stake, even if it won’t do me any harm.
Her cry is sharp, almost fury-driven, and my incisors unsheathe in response as a hiss leaves my lips.
“You certainly don’t make it easy, do you?” I draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly, allowing time to regain a modicum of calm. “If I cannot sample your delectable blood, then I will have your lips.”
I make good on my promise before she changes her mind yet again, crushing her mouth beneath mine. There is more ferocity in the action than I plan, but her unintentional tease annoys me, especially when my own blood is already up and calling for plunder. When a tiny moan vibrates up from her throat, a bolt of desire tightens my loins further.
She tastes exactly as I imagined she would, all honey and flowers and innocence. Her sweetness soothes the darkness within me in a way that hasn’t happened in the whole of my life as a vampire. I want to devour her, and yet there’s something holding me in check. After a minute, I soften the onslaught to cajole, rather than bully a response.
When she finally capitulates and begins kissing me back, it feels like a triumph far greater than merely winning someone over with persuasion. In that capitulation I’m reminded of what it’s like to be alive. What it’s like to have a heart that beats so fast and so powerfully that you wonder if it’s going to jump right out of your chest at the force of emotion running through you.
Emotion?
What is she doing to me? Why am I drawn to her so strongly, when it’s obvious she can’t wait to get me out of her home and out of her life for good? Is this attraction merely the enticing promise of hybrid blood, or is it based on something more?
I nearly pull away. This emotion she’s making me feel is unfamiliar and unnerving and I don’t like it. And yet, I can’t untangle myself from her body. I can’t rid myself of her inviting warmth, even amidst all of her confusion.
I don’t know anything about Aleah, beyond her species and her name, and she knows nothing about me. Yet this kiss runs like fire along my veins, in a potent rush that feels more real than the taking of blood ever did in the past. I crave even more of it.
When at last we break apart, she is panting loudly and her previously pale cheeks are flushed a delicate pink again. I don’t need to breathe to survive, but in the aftermath of this kiss even I am drawing breath once again, albeit with a slight rasp that sounds rusty from misuse.
“That was...very intense.” My brain feels fuzzy and disconnected from reason. The warm pliancy of her mouth beneath mine is still all-consuming in my thoughts. I want to fuck her. I need to fuck her. It will be amazing, to seduce this beautiful woman whose scent and taste reminds me of life, and the joy of living.
And once I have her screaming my name, I will sink my teeth in her flesh and I will taste her. I will claim her as mine, and she will writhe beneath me and beg me to do it again and again. “Shall we go to your bedr—”
Her eyes spring open. “No!”
“But—”
“I rescind my invitation,” she says, her voice strong, her eyes fierce. “I changed my mind, Luc. You are no longer welcome in my home.”
What the hell?
“I—” My legs begin to shuffle of their own accord toward the door. I scowl as I twist to stare back at her, even while moving away. “You can’t be serious. Why—”
“You’re a vampire.” Her lips are swollen from our kiss and she rubs at them with the back of her hand as if trying to wipe away the taste of me. “I won’t have you in my home a moment longer than absolutely necessary. I thought I could—but I can’t. I can’t. I don’t understand what you’re doing to me, why I’m reacting like this, but I refuse to participate in it anymore. I won’t risk it.” Tears shimmer in her eyes, turning them emerald.
“But—”
“It would be a betrayal.”
“Of whom?” I reach out to the door and turn the handle, with no control over my own limbs until I’m standing outside on the top step of the porch. The gray of evening has intensified, and even though it’s not yet dead of night when I’m at full strength, there’s no sun left in the day to pose a threat any longer. “The only one I see you betraying here is yourself.”
She shakes her head, but without conviction.
“Don’t deny yourself.” I try one last time. “Don’t lie to yourself. You can pretend to send me away because of what I am, but we both know that isn’t true.”
She glares at me. It only makes me more determined than ever to try and get through to her.
“Why, Aleah? You knew what I was when you invited me in. I didn’t hurt you. And you want it as much as I do.”
She follows me to the doorway and stares out with big, haunted-looking eyes. To anyone human, she’d be a gray silhouette in the darkness, but I see through the shadows better than any other creature bar demons, and I read the angst and sorrow in her features. I know I’m right. What’s more, she knows I’m right as well.
She looks away, her bottom lip jutted out into a pout. “I’m sorry, Luc.”
“What are you afraid of?”
The rejection is unfamiliar. Since being turned almost two hundred and fifty years ago, I’ve had my pick of lovers, men and women alike, and no one has ever said no to my advances. Not a single one. I don’t understand this. Why deny herself the pleasure she knows she’ll receive? Why banish me before I can prove myself to her?
“It’s clear that you’re conflicted,” I say, “but I thought you’d made up your mind.”
“I’m not afraid, and I’m not conflicted.” She folds her arms across her chest, but this time I see the gesture more as a mechanism of self-defense than anything to do with anger. She’s afraid I’ll penetrate through her walls, even more than I already have. “I want nothing to do with vampires. Nothing. And I especially don’t want one in my bed.”
Her cheeks are deeply stained with color. It makes her look even more becoming. I can’t take my eyes off of her.
“Liar.”
I breathe the word, almost under my breath, but her slight start proves that she hears me. Of course, she does. The fae portion of her blood boosts her sensory ability more than that of a purely mortal woman.
She closes her eyes, chewing her bottom lip. It seems as though she’s debating within herself. Finally, she looks at me, almost helpless.
“A vampire ruined my life once,” she says. “I won’t let it happen again.”
Silence falls in the night air.
A vampire ruined her life?
I consider whether to press for details, but the desperate conviction in her gaze convinces me it would be futile. She won’t tell me anything. I’m surprised by how disappointed I am when I realize this.
After a moment, I let it go, and nod once. “Our story is not done, little banshee. I will be back, and then? We will talk.”
Her answer is a slammed door. I’m left standing in the dark on my own, as a light drizzle begins to fall. There’s a real chill in the air without the sun, but that suits me just fine. I barely feel the elements anymore. Being undead has its perks. The bird chatter eventually quiets down and the night creatures begin to stir.
Night creatures like me. Night creatures like the two who tag-teamed their assault, one crushing my arm in his jaws as I fought to retrieve the child he had taken to feed on, while the other circled, waiting for the right moment to attack.
My thoughts reluctantly turn back to business as I move away from Aleah’s cottage toward the forest.
It amazes me how easily distracted from my work I’ve become simply being around Aleah for a few hours. I shake my head, needing focus. It is especially important to keep my concentration with the threat of the two preternaturals still out and about.
There was something off about those two, even more than their clearly loco state. Perhaps I’m overreacting and it was simply the insane light behind their eyes, or the unexpected strength beyond even what one might expect from a rogue fueled by madness. I don’t understand what was driving them, but it is rare for any shifter to get the advantage over a vampire with as much experience as me.
Even more rare, to find two insane rogues of opposing species working in tandem.
And there was something more. Something inherently wrong that I can’t quite pinpoint, beyond an instinctive gut feeling that they smelled...bad.
Evil.
I’ve seen too much in the past couple of centuries to frighten easily, but that sense of something malevolent and calculating is new, and off-the-charts worrying.
In the thirtyish years since the Accord Agreement was reached—an agreement that all signing parties, human and non-human alike, promised to abide by—investigative units were set up to ensure compliance. Units like the one I work for.
The rules of the Accord are clear. All are to obey the new laws and respect life wherever possible. Innocents are untouchable. On the matter of humans, everyone is in agreement. Adults are a last resort, and children are strictly off the menu. This is the way it’s supposed to be.
In a world where preternaturals have finally emerged from the shadows, the new rules allow us to co-exist with each other and with humans, if not peacefully, at least with some semblance of order.
The only exception to the Accord is the celestials.
Angels and demons.
No one has ever been able to convince them to cooperate, but there are hunters and negotiators who specialize in that area, while the rest of us try to steer clear.
The witches, and fae, and various minor non-human species, all signed the Accord alongside humans. Shifters these days usually make do with deer, or maybe cattle, sheep, or rabbits when they hunt. Depends on their shifter breed, of course, as to what size prey they choose to bring down.
Vamp cooperation varies greatly, depending on their House. Some Masters and Mistresses, like mine until she met her final destruction a quarter century ago, have been willing to adopt the tenets of the Accord, at least on the surface. There are others who still choose to live outside the laws of this world, and it is now my job to ensure those transgressors are caught and appropriately sanctioned. Appropriate sanctions usually mean death. Units like mine are the only ones allowed to enforce the law in such a way. Especially when the goal is to save an innocent life.
Like the child I was unable to save last night.
To take a child... a small boy who did nothing more than respond to the cry of what probably sounded like a stray animal and wander out into the garden looking for it...
Rage rises at the thought of the monster who got away. I bite my bottom lip in order to keep myself from revealing a telling growl. Harming innocents is not something that sits well with me, regardless of what sort of species they are.
Together, the rogues may have managed to crush my body, but I took the lifeblood of at least one of the fuckers. Too late for the child, sadly, but at least I know that particular shifter will never again take a human prey.
His vamp partner, on the other hand, is another matter altogether. He’s still out there, and I’m positive he will attack again. Whether he does so alone or finds another partner is moot. He seeks death and destruction, and it makes me unsettled, knowing something like that is on the hunt.
Once, years ago in the much larger city of Melbourne to the south, something similar happened after the Accord was initially struck. Many innocent people died before the culprits were stopped and the Accord investigative units fully came into their power.
No one ever figured out why or how two loups could work together back then.
Rogues are normally loners who will kill without mercy or remorse until someone brings them down. The fact that two of them appeared to be working together in this instance, is far more concerning than I let on to Aleah. I need to contact the department’s head office and let them know this is more than a simple case of a lone loco wolf or a blood-mad vamp.
As a detective in the new order, it’s my job to keep the peace, and I’ve sworn an oath to that end. I need to find the other one—this killer rogue—and keep him alive long enough to find out what the fuck is going on.
It’s probably a good thing Aleah rejected me. If I stayed and tangled myself with her, who knows how long I would have been distracted. If I had tasted her...
My loins stir, but I force the feeling away. I have a job to do, and thinking about Aleah and all the ways I could have brought her to her knees is not something that will help uncover what is going on here and stop more needless death.
From the edge of the forest, I cast one last look at Aleah’s cozy little cottage in which all the lights inside blaze. I know it’s a deliberate action from her. A message to me that she’s inside bathed in light, while I’m back out here in the damp darkness where I belong.
A message that tells me to stay away, to stay in the darkness.
Doesn’t matter. I’m a vampire. I do belong in the darkness.
Sexy little banshee.
Regardless of her cold behaviour, I meant what I said. I will return, and when I do, I’m going to prove her wrong about vampires. We might belong to the night, but we’re not all diseased, blood-sucking monsters who kill without discretion or mercy. We can inflict pleasure just as easily as pain. We can create feelings of bliss and elation just as well as fear.
I can show her that.
The thought of how I might prove that to Aleah is strangely exhilarating, even as I slink away into the night to continue my search for a loup who likely epitomizes exactly the type of insane and rabid monster she’s afraid of.
The thought of Aleah is added motivation to solve this quickly. Then I can return and show her just what being a vampire actually means.
I can introduce the banshee to the lustful pleasures of sexual fulfilment with a vamp in the prime of his undead life.
