Chapter Eight

“How many earrings does one woman need?” Angie asked.

“Need and want are two different things, and eternity is a long time to collect earrings.”

“Eternity?” Angie quirked a brow. “You’re how old?”

“Old enough to know better than to answer that question.”

Standing in front of my jewelry hoard, I warred with the desire to keep the pieces I liked versus the knowledge that I could get more. I could loot the Hall of Gems at the Field Museum. I could rip the doors off bank vaults and walk away with enough coins to fill my own personal swimming pool, if I had one. Precious metals weren’t very precious after the end of the world. Food, shelter, fuel, medicine—those things had value.

So it seemed odd to attach sentiment to the pair of earrings I’d had custom made to celebrate my one-hundredth year of freedom from my Master. Then again did it make sense to melt those things down to make bullets I didn’t want to use? I couldn’t start a war with the werewolves. The pack could rip this building apart if they put their minds to it. I’d never had a problem with the werewolves. My Master hated them, but he didn’t trust anything he couldn’t eat.

“Hey. Are you all right?” Angie asked.

“Not really.” I wrapped my arms around her and indulged in a long, comforting snuggle. “Thank you.”

“For what?” she asked.

“Shooting Philippe. Being brave. Standing by me.”

“I wish I could do more. And I’m sorry that I shot you too.”

“It was only a flesh wound. I think you’re doing great.” I kissed her for emphasis and then stepped back. “I never thought I’d have angst about parting with jewelry, but apparently I do. How much do you need to make bullets?”

“Depends. How many silver bullets does it take to kill a werewolf?”

“One in the heart or in the head will drop them. Anywhere else will kill them slowly, like poison, if they don’t dig the bullet out.” I grabbed a small purse and began filling it with sacrificial silver, starting with pieces with no sentimental value.

Angie nodded. “How many are there in the pack?”

“I’m not sure. Thirty or forty, but that was before the world ended. Werewolves can die from enough trauma. If they got overwhelmed it could’ve thinned their numbers.” I shut the earring drawer—okay, I have more than one earring drawer, so sue me. “How’s this? More?”

She peered inside. “Should be enough for a clip. That won’t help against thirty or forty targets.”

“The silver bullets are more of a message that we’re serious about throwing down if we have to. They can smell silver. I don’t want to pick a fight, but I want us to be prepared if one breaks out. You should be all right around the wolves since you’re naturally alpha. I’d like Mike to stay here with Sean and hold down the fort. If nothing else, the others seem to feel secure with Mike around.”

She chuckled. “Yeah. He hasn’t gotten this much action in years.”

“I did not need to hear that.” I checked my watch. “We have a few hours until sunrise. Are we…okay? You’re not mad about the feeding thing earlier? Or freaked out by the vampire shenanigans?”

Angie pondered the questions as she slipped her arms around me. “Why did you choose Nathalie?”

“Elizabeth recognized her as food. I could have fed from any of Sean’s flock and the blood would have helped, but adding attraction is like the difference between drinking water and Red Bull. With that many injuries, I needed the extra energy.”

“Not because she’s cute?” Angie quirked a brow.

“Is she cute? I didn’t notice.”

“Good answer.” She smiled, but she studied me for a long moment with a contemplative expression. “Why were you able to recognize that she liked girls, but you didn’t sense that in me until you bit me?”

“Elizabeth picked up on Nathalie’s attraction when she made the comment about my website. That was a quieter moment than you ninja-climbing over to my roof after I’d been shot, dropped and chomped on. But that is a good question…” I trailed off. Even aside from the blood thirst I’d been pretty weak demon-wise before I bit Angie for the first time, and any blood source would’ve helped at that point. Angie’s reaction—her desire—had recharged my batteries better than blood alone would have, because it energized my demon as well.

Oh crap.

“Elizabeth is getting stronger,” I blurted. “Damn it. Philippe said he was trying to awaken my demon. That’s why he bit me. To bring out Elizabeth.”

“But she’s always with you, right?”

“Yeah. It’s like seventy percent me, thirty percent her. But at Tara she was almost always in control. I didn’t fight her because it was easier than dealing with what was going on around me, but I eventually hit a point where I couldn’t take it anymore. I can’t go back to that.”

“Okay. What do you need?” Angie asked.

I blinked. I was impressed at her no-nonsense approach, and stunned that she didn’t recoil in horror or condemn me for being a monster. Angie patiently waited for my answer as I struggled to come up with one.

“She’s a keeper. I like her.”

I swallowed a “shut up, Elizabeth” because she wasn’t wrong. Angie was great.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “It’s been a long time since I fed from anyone on a regular basis, and that was after I’d made Isabel, so my demon was still weakened from that.”

“Isabel?”

“The only way my Master would let me go was if I made a vampire to take my place. Part of the process of making a vampire involves amputating part of my demon and transplanting it into the new host. It takes years to recover, and in some ways Elizabeth never did. She was still regaining her strength when I switched to cold blood and hamstrung her. We won’t get anything accomplished if she gains control.”

“Oh, please. Give me some credit. I noticed the zombies too. I agree that we need to focus on safety and protecting our humans. We must work before we can play.”

“Are you talking to her now?” Angie asked, and I nodded. “Your eyes lose focus when you do. Like you’re listening to headphones.”

“She’s being reasonable. Must be a trap.”

Angie smirked, and then glanced at the door. “Would it help if you talked to Sean? Ask him how he deals with his demon? He seems pretty chill, so he’s probably got things under control.”

“It might, though his demon’s a lot younger than mine. Right now I need…I guess I need you.”

“Will it make things worse for you if we fool around now?”

“It should be okay. Another round of frolic won’t tip my scales from sober to sex-crazed. But just sex tonight, no biting. I was serious about the blood-loss thing. They make blood donors wait about two months between whole blood donations. I take less than a pint with a bite, but it’s not something you want to mess with.”

“Understood.”

I grinned. “Good. Let’s make sure everyone’s set up out there before we get naked. I don’t want to have to slay someone for interrupting our sexy fun time.”

“We could put a scrunchie on the doorknob.”

“Nice. Do they still have scrunchies?”

“The nineties are coming back. Or they were… We should probably grab a blanket too, unless you’re a fan of rug burn.”

“Right. Did I mention that this is where I stashed Elizabeth’s epic collection of sex toys? And her wigs and costumes?”

Angie’s eyes widened, but I opened the closet door before she could comment. Nathalie was seated at my desk, introducing her laptop to my computer system as she checked her online contacts for survivors—other hackers who were also abusing government servers in ways that would give Homeland Security an aneurysm. Sean and the rest of his flock, sans Trinity and Gavin, were setting up extra air mattresses and unpacking clothes onto rolling racks I’d looted from a container store. The scene was very domestic, and I paused to eye Sean in disbelief. Our Master had a servant for everything and probably never made a bed in his unlife, but Sean was neatly folding flannel sheets into hospital corners.

“Who do you think will sleep in the big bed? It could fit at least two of them, and there are more bi or bi-curious women in his flock.”

“Sex has nothing to do with sleep,” I replied. “That’s more of a question of who snores or steals the covers.”

But Elizabeth had a point. My time as a vampire had taught me that sexuality was more fluid than most people were willing to admit. Sure, many people were strictly straight or gay, but for others there was more to it than checking one box on the “who are you attracted to?” questionnaire. People joked about going gay for their favorite same-sex celebrity, and sometimes there was truth in that.

“How many more?” I asked, unable to resist.

“At this point, I believe that Evelyn and Trinity are the only purely straight women.”

That did not bode well for my ability to resist the lure of a blood orgy. I cleared my throat. “How’s it going?”

“Quite well, I believe.” Sean straightened—he really had good posture—and folded his hands. “I will need to know where my sleeping accommodations are.”

I looked up at him and frowned. “No idea how we’re going to fit you into my coffin, unless you fold in half for easy storage.”

The women snickered as he frowned at the suggestion.

“Do you need to feed?” I asked Sean.

“I don’t require sustenance at the moment.”

“Let me rephrase. Would it make you and your flock feel better if you could enjoy a few hours of good, old-fashioned vampire frolic together in the safety of a steel reinforced room that is one hundred percent zombie proof?”

“Yes,” Nathalie answered from her spot at the desk. We turned toward her, and she blushed. “In the interest of complete honesty, I expect a deep dicking after blood donation. And I think we could all use some time to decompress. It’s been über stressful.”

Sean flinched and coughed at her directness, but I laughed. “I can’t help with the deep dicking. I don’t have a strap on.”

“Not even in Elizabeth’s epic toy collection?” Angie asked.

“Elizabeth has myriad dildos and vibrators, but no actual strap-on apparatus,” I explained. “She never needed one because she’s a one-woman show. Besides, she tried one on once and couldn’t stop giggling. They’re all straps and harness nonsense like you’re going skydiving, except there’s a giant cock attached to your crotch. I really don’t know how men walk around with those things.” I turned back to Sean. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Anyway, I asked because I intend to drag Angie into the closet and ravish her until sunrise. So if you all want to—” I waved toward the bed, “—now would be an opportune time for that.”

“Why do the lesbians have to be in the closet?” Angie asked.

“Because the patriarchy. Unless you want to stay out here and watch the straight people have sex?” I replied. Angie wrinkled her nose. “Then grab a blanket.”

When we were ready, Sean and the interested members of his flock were preparing to defile my bedroom and Angie and I occupied my closet.

“I’ve had apartments smaller than this,” Angie commented.

“Forever is a long time to shop. Some pieces I held on to, waiting for them to come back into style. Other things are always classic like a little black dress. I have an outfit for every role, every occasion. But being a receptionist at the rescue org meant I could dress comfy and wear T-shirts and jeans most nights.”

“Where’s your sex toy collection?” Angie grinned. Poor thing. She had no idea.

I opened a cupboard and pulled out three giant plastic storage bins meant to house out-of-season bedding or holiday decorations. One was helpfully labeled “dildos” in black marker written on masking tape, and the other two were “vibrators” and “miscellaneous”.

“Holy shit,” she murmured. As though mesmerized, Angie knelt next to the dildo box and pried the lid off. Her jaw dropped as she picked up a latex fist. “You actually fit this inside you?”

“It’s a show-stopper,” Elizabeth replied. I allowed her enough control to let her explain, as this was her area of expertise. Her essence slid through me in a wave of dark, liquid heat. “I have a regular client who requests it. It takes a lot of lube and warm-up, but it’s possible.”

Angie nodded and then jumped when she looked up at me. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

“Nothing.” Elizabeth grinned a sultry smile. “We haven’t been properly acquainted yet. Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a girl of wealth and taste.”

Angie’s head tilted as she studied me, but she didn’t panic or bolt. “The black eyes mean you’re Elizabeth?”

“Got it in one. I knew I liked you.”

“Be nice to her,” I warned.

“I am being nice to her,” Elizabeth scoffed in reply.

“Philippe had black eyes when he attacked you,” Angie said.

“His demon was in control, which is not unusual for him.” Elizabeth shrugged. “I wear a mask when I work. It adds to the mystery and hides my eyes. Besides, no one’s interested in my face when I’m working.” She knelt across from Angie and waved at the collection—a cock in every size and color of the rainbow. “The dildos are sort of a surrogate for men watching me on the webcam. They want to imagine that it’s their cock fucking me. The vibrators are for clients who get off on watching me come. The rest is for clients with…other tastes.”

“Language, Elizabeth.” She snorted, amused by the novelty of me quoting our Master. We both appreciated a bit of dirty talk, but I didn’t know if Angie did. Thankfully she remained unaffected—it probably took a lot to rattle a woman who’d been in the armed forces and the police department.

“Why porn?” Angie asked. “If I understand it right, you feed from other people’s lust and pleasure. That seems like a proximity thing, not something that would travel over phone lines or wireless Internet. Why not live above a strip club?”

“Too much temptation. It’s difficult to balance feeding and hiding from the mortals.” With easy grace Elizabeth rose and sauntered to the closet door—she moved differently, even sounded different when she was in control. Elizabeth adopted a husky, sultry purr that my speaking voice lacked. She stroked the cold surface of the steel-core door as though petting an affectionate lap dog.

“Mortals?” Angie prompted.

“Humanity. We were hunted when the humans believed in monsters. Most forgot over time, but there are still some hunters left. It only takes one true believer to uncover a lair during the day and kill every vampire within. Fear of discovery is one reason why Lizzy hides, and I understand that fear. The rest…” Elizabeth shrugged again, a languid roll of the shoulders. “But you are correct. I can’t truly feed from the desire of my online clients. I enjoyed interacting with them, and it satisfied my urges enough to keep us functional. It was quite profitable too.”

“What would you do if you were in charge, and not Lizzy?”

Elizabeth grinned, showing fang as she turned and leaned back against the door. “Feast. I haven’t been so close to an incubus since we left Tara.”

“Why is that important?”

“It’s one of the perks of being a vampire of our line. We are stronger together—incubus and succubus. More powerful. That’s why the Master would not let me leave until I had created a replacement. It’s why Lord Josef wished us to live with him in St. Louis, but Lizzy spurned his advances.”

She purred and closed her eyes, tasting the rising energy of Sean and his flock as the activities in the other room heated from simmer to boil. Sean hungered, and Elizabeth longed to experience that firsthand as our demons called to each other.

“No,” I warned. “Not happening. We’re not going back down that road.”

“I know,” Elizabeth whispered in reply. My demon sighed and straightened. “I was content to keep the others fulfilled at Tara, but Lizzy hated it. That is the difference between demons, vampires and humans. A demon cares nothing for friendship or affection. Those are human concepts. But a vampire is demon and human, torn between the need to feed and the consequences of what happens after. Lizzy and I have yet to find balance.”

“Did you want to go with Philippe?” Angie asked.

Elizabeth tilted her head as she considered her reply. “No. Philippe was always vicious in his attention. Cruel. It made Lizzy miserable, and I don’t want that. Her unhappiness only increases our imbalance.”

“Would it be okay with Lizzy if you gave me the Mistress Elizabeth experience?” Angie asked.

Ugh. I didn’t want my demon near Angie, but she wouldn’t hurt Angie—or not physically, at least. My demon had less tact than I did, which was saying something.

“Do you want to do this?” I asked.

Elizabeth smirked. “Do I want to ravish the sexy policewoman? How is that even a question?”

Angie laughed.

“Why do you want to?” I forced the words past Elizabeth’s lips.

“If we’re serious about dating I need to know all of you, for better and for worse,” Angie explained. “You said that if we had sex tonight it wouldn’t tip the balance of power between you and Elizabeth, so it seems like the best time to do this.”

Nodding, I changed tactics. “Can I trust you to do this?”

“I will not harm her. Have I ever harmed a member of our flock?” Elizabeth sounded wounded.

“Yes.”

She rolled her eyes. “Spankings hardly count.”

“You spanked people? Grown people?” Angie asked.

Elizabeth waved a nonchalant hand. “Everyone has different tastes. Some of Tara’s residents enjoyed much rougher play than that. I assume you don’t, judging by your frown, but I do believe that you mentioned using handcuffs with a girlfriend. Would you allow me to bind you?”

Angie seemed hesitant—hell, I was hesitant too—but Elizabeth opened her box of miscellaneous toys and chose a pair of soft wrist cuffs that could be velcroed together. “These are more in the spirit of restraints rather than securely binding someone. I can’t lock myself in place when I’m a one-woman show.”

Elizabeth smiled slyly and offered Angie the cuffs like the serpent tempting Eve into sin. Angie eyed them warily, but then took them and experimented with pulling the Velcro apart several times. The simple tearing noise inspired shudders of anticipation that curled my toes.

“I won’t ask you to choose a safe word,” Elizabeth said. “I will stop when you ask.”

“Can you stop? Lizzy makes it sound like you’re a lust-crazed sex monster.”

We both laughed, though the sound that emerged was Elizabeth’s deep, rolling chuckle. “I am, but I am capable of obeying my lover’s wishes. Lizzy is scarred from too many years spent with our Master. He cares only for his own pleasure, and it pleases him to make others suffer.”

Angie took a deep breath and squared her shoulders as though preparing for battle. “Okay. I’m ready if you are.”

“Wonderful.”

“Best behavior,” I warned. Elizabeth mentally shushed me. I didn’t sense anything violent or dangerous about her mood. Arousal slicked my sex, and it throbbed with a pleasant ache. I kicked back in my quiet space in the back of our thoughts and watched the scene play out, like settling into the last row of a movie theater. Except this was an adult movie starring my body. Well, it wasn’t the first time. We’d survive.

With a smile and a flourish, Elizabeth spread the blanket we’d grabbed, and then took Angie’s hands and led her to the center of it. Elizabeth studied Angie, pondering ideas for playtime.

“May I blindfold you? And are there any toys you absolutely object to? I have heard some lesbians disapprove of dildos. I would only use smaller toys, because you are so tight.”

So polite. Elizabeth really was on her best behavior. I’d half expected her to pounce Angie and rip her clothes off, but her time as Mistress Elizabeth had taught her the value of drawing the experience out—especially when she charged by the minute.

“One does not waste such an opportunity on blind lust.”

“What does Lizzy think?” Angie asked, surprising me and my demon.

I cleared my throat and blinked the black from my eyes for a moment. “I think you’ll be fine. I’m keeping a close watch over her, and Elizabeth doesn’t want to screw this up.”

Angie swallowed hard and then nodded. “Okay.”

Elizabeth retrieved a black silk blindfold from the miscellaneous toy box and reached up to tie it—Angie was at least six inches taller than us.

“Us,” Elizabeth repeated smugly. “I like that. She is a good influence.”

“Don’t get used to it.” I mentally scowled.

Elizabeth began with the buttons of Angie’s uniform shirt. “I will bite you—gently—but not drink. You didn’t mention whether you had a problem with dildos.”

“That’s fine. Just keep that giant fist away from me.”

“Of course. It’s not for amateurs. Do you have any allergies? Latex, perhaps?”

“No. Just cats.”

“A lesbian allergic to pussy? That’s such a shame.” Elizabeth tsked her disapproval as she stripped Angie’s shirt. The stiff fabric was one hundred percent polyester. Awful. At least the apocalypse would force humanity to return to natural fibers. The white cotton undershirt went next, and she paused at Angie’s no-nonsense bra. We agreed that the thing was hideous. She wanted to shred it, but I reminded Elizabeth that new underwear was going to be in short supply now. Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth stepped behind Angie and unhooked the bra properly.

“Beautiful.” Elizabeth smiled like the cat who ate the canary as she stroked the contours of Angie’s lean, muscular back. “My own black Athena. You are every inch a goddess.”

Angie muttered, “White vampire privilege.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Perhaps. I do feel privileged to enjoy you.”

“Let go, Lizzy. Rest. I promise that I will not harm Angie. She is our flock. I would never endanger that.”

She was right—Elizabeth wouldn’t hurt a member of our flock. This meant too much to her. I let go with a reluctant sigh, and slipped away as Elizabeth rose and consumed control.

With a sultry smile I scented Angie’s arousal like the heady aroma of brewing coffee. It was appropriate, as I felt I’d been asleep for some time. Lizzy still harbored hard feelings about the last time I’d wrested complete control away from her. I was certain that she had overreacted, but the experience had taught me what her limits were. I had no intention of repeating that mistake.

I slid my arms around Angie and cupped her breasts as I kissed a path from one shoulder to the other, learning the taste of her skin. There was a sultry softness to a woman’s body that men lacked. I rolled her hard nipples between my fingers, imagining the contrast of the shining silver chains of a pair of nipple clamps against her dark skin. Nuzzling the back of her neck, I inhaled her sweet scent and committed it to memory.

Mine. Angie was my flock—a sacred bond for a vampire. It had been so long since I had a flock of my own, and the loneliness was an ache that never subsided.

Until now.

I circled Angie, knelt at her feet, then unbuckled her belt and unbuttoned her trousers. More rough, rasping polyester. Why was the CPD obsessed with synthetic fabric? I slipped the garment down to reveal simple white cotton panties.

Of course.

I pressed my tongue against her mound, picturing how striking she would be in crimson silk. Pity there wasn’t time to loot a lingerie store. “Lie back, sweeting.”

Angie did as instructed, and I stripped her of the remainder of her clothing. As I lingered over the gorgeous view, a wave of power licked my skin like a flickering flame—Sean was feeding. My sharp hearing caught the height of a woman’s screaming orgasm, and I moaned in appreciation as my already taut nipples hardened and my sex throbbed in time with my racing pulse. Licking my lips, I removed my own clothing. I helped myself to a pair of nipple clamps—I enjoyed the tug of the weight and the cool whisper of silver against my skin—then fastened the soft cuffs to Angie’s wrists. I positioned her arms above her head.

“Try them,” I suggested. Angie pulled the cuffs apart a few times before nodding her assent. “Good. Now keep your hands there.”

“Yes, ma’am.” A smile tugged at her luscious lips. I debated asking her to call me Mistress Elizabeth, but I knew that Lizzy would not approve. It was too much like a request our Master would make.

I chose a pastel pink-and-purple butterfly from the vibrator box. The toy wasn’t a classic vibrator per se—it wasn’t meant to be inserted, and instead the outstretched wings massaged the outer petals of a woman’s sex while the antennae stimulated her tender bud.

“Did you just refer to a vagina as a flower?” Lizzy asked. “Seriously?”

“It’s artistic license. Stop being such a prude. And you are supposed to be sleeping.”

“I am. Your commentary tripped my purple prose alarm.”

“Hush.”

Angie flinched at the sudden buzz when I turned the toy on, and I chuckled darkly. Nudging her thighs apart, I laid it against her sex. I intended to make a three-course meal of her pleasure, and this was simply the appetizer. A light whetting of the appetite. Angie’s desire was heightened by the blindfold and cuffs, and I drank the energy like a crisp, bright wine.

I started at her ankle, because in my experience ankles and the backs of one’s knees were underappreciated erogenous zones. I licked, nipped and kissed a tantalizing path up her leg, building her pleasure to a slow boil. I hesitated at the sweet spot of her thigh where her pulse pounded through her femoral artery tantalizingly close to the surface of her skin. Lizzy had bitten her there, but I didn’t dare drink again so soon. Instead, I suckled the spot and settled for a simple love bite.

Angie’s pleasure crested and broke, and I reached between my legs and stroked my clit as the energy of her orgasm washed over me in a heady wave. Yes. If I had the wings of a true succubus I would flap them in joy at the delicious power, but instead I moaned and worked myself to my own quick climax. Drawing away, I removed the butterfly and shut it off, then chose a slender vibrator.

“Relax, sweeting,” I murmured as I slid it inside her. Angie was as tight as I was—I’d cursed the Master countless times for not taking my virginity before he took my life. He meant my cunt to be so tight that the first few thrusts hurt until my body blossomed for my lover.

“Bastard,” Lizzy grumbled. I agreed. “But enough with the euphemisms.”

I mentally scowled at her. Lizzy had no poetry in her.

Angie shuddered and I stopped. The vibrator was barely in farther than the tip, but it was enough for now. I clicked it to its lowest setting, and then lowered my mouth to her clit. She gasped as I sucked the nub into my mouth, and I purred at the heavenly taste of her. Angie was hot and wet, and the black curls covering her mound tickled my nose as I laved her with my lips and tongue. She came again, and I turned the vibrator higher and slid it deeper, continuing the process with each orgasm until she pleaded with me to stop. I complied instantly, eager to please both her and Lizzy.

Intoxicated by Angie’s pleasure, I sat back to savor the aura of her ecstasy and the erotic sight of her spread before me, bound and beautiful. Angie’s breasts rose and fell in time with her ragged breath, her sex glistened and a light sheen of sweat gave her mocha skin a warm glow.

“Enough with the chocolate references,” Lizzy scolded. I politely reminded her that she started it. Besides, our Athena was sweet and strong, like a venti mocha.

“That was…” Angie trailed off, too stunned for words.

“A fine meal. But now it’s time for dessert. Or the grand finale, if you prefer.”

Her brow rose above the blindfold. “More?”

“Oh yes. I haven’t enjoyed your breasts yet.”

“I swear, if you make one ‘globes’ or ‘cherries’ reference I will kick you out and take over,” Lizzy threatened.

“Spoilsport.”

I wanted a thicker cock this time for Angie, and I perused my collection. I settled on a light blue toy with a stylized dolphin cresting the vibrator’s cock, the dolphin’s nose intended to tease the clit in ways that Mother Nature never intended a dolphin to do. It had a bonus feature in that the cock rotated as well as vibrated, but I saved that surprise for later. Angie whimpered and her hips bucked as I thrust the toy into her sex. I set the dolphin and the shaft vibrating at the medium speed and helped myself to her breasts.

They were lovely. A bit more than a B, but less than a C-cup, they were soft and supple in my hands. I was fascinated by her dark nipples, hard and sweet like licorice.

“Really?”

“You said no cherries,” I replied.

Angie arched against me as I laved her nipples with the same enthusiasm I’d shown her clit, worshipping the peaks with hot strokes of my tongue.

“Oh, God. Lizzy,” she moaned. I didn’t correct her.

She cried out, and I tossed my head back and rode the burst of her climax. So good. Women had such wondrous stamina, allowing sex to be a marathon instead of a sprint. With my eyes closed, I felt the distant stirring of Sean’s demon as he continued to feed and a new chorus of faint shrieks sounding in the other room. I indulged in the fantasy of Sean pounding my cunt while I buried my face between Angie’s thighs, and Lizzy frowned in disapproval.

I turned the vibration up to high and claimed Angie’s mouth. Velcro ripped as she freed her hands and grabbed my hair. We devoured each other in a flurry of bruising, demanding kisses. With a hungry growl I descended on her throat—again, no drinking, but I covered her in hickies that would leave no doubt as to what we had been up to. I propped myself up on one arm as I reached down, kicked the toy into all of its spinning, vibrating glory and fucked her with it.

I lost count of the orgasms after her third, drunk on her pleasure and mine. Glorious—there were no words to describe how much I had missed this. No amount of toys and roleplaying compared to the feel of a warm body, the taste of sweat-slicked skin, the press of swollen lips and the stroke of questing tongues. Angie screamed and writhed, the sensations so exquisite that I was sure I would be sated for a week.

“Enough,” she gasped. “It’s your turn. I need to fuck you.”

“Damn right,” Lizzy blurted. Finally, we were in complete agreement about something.

I turned the toy off as Angie removed her blindfold. “Whoa. Your eyes are full black now.” Angie winced at the clamps adorning my breasts. “Ow. Why would you do that?”

“My eyes are completely black when I’m in control, but Lizzy is still here. She’s been providing commentary.” I smiled, rolled away and dropped to all fours. “The nipple clamps are an acquired taste. Each time you thrust, the weight pulls, and it feels sublime. I’ll let you pick the cock. I’m wet enough that any of them will fit.”

“I wish you had a strap-on, even though they’re a little ridiculous. We can pick up mine if we ever swing by my apartment.” Angie trembled as she slowly sat up, but then she focused on the box of dildos. “Do you have a favorite color?”

“Pink.”

Angie chose a massive pink cock that was curved slightly, meant to hit a woman’s g-spot.

“Mmm, yes. I like that one.” My sex pulsed in anticipation. “Please, Angie.”

She knelt behind me and traced the head of the dildo up and down my slit before pushing it in. The thick shaft stretched me to my limits, and I moaned my approval.

“Hard,” I demanded. “I need it as hard and fast as you can.”

Angie obliged, and my claws tore the blanket as I screamed my approval. I had always been loud, much to the Master’s delight. She pounded me, replacing the aching arousal with shuddering ecstasy. My breasts bounced as I met her stroke for stroke, and each swing of the weight between my breasts pulled on my nipples with a sharp jolt.

Angie pushed me as far as I had her, causing climax after heavenly climax. When the pleasure because too much I collapsed forward as my weakened arms gave way, and then Angie lay beside me and spooned me, murmuring endearments to me. Completely sated, I slipped asleep…

“You broke Elizabeth,” I said. I winced, my throat rough from my demon’s enthusiasm.

“She broke me first. Hey, you. Welcome back.” Angie kissed my hair.

“Thanks. Ouch.” I carefully removed the clamps and set them aside. “I’m so glad she didn’t ask you to spank her.”

Angie laughed. “It’s not my thing.”

“Mine either. The cuddling is very nice.” I turned in her arms and we held each other close, enjoying the afterglow. “So you’re okay?”

“Yes. She was right. She stopped the moment I asked her to.”

Angie kissed me, and I smiled, filled with relief. Maybe feeding from a live donor would be different now—a positive experience shared with someone I cared for, not the depraved debauchery I’d endured at Tara.

Then I overheard the muffled moaning emanating from my bedroom, and wondered if I hadn’t come far from my roots at all.

When sunrise approached I kissed Angie goodnight. She was uneasy about leaving me with Sean, but there was nothing to be done but move ahead like good soldiers.

“Are you going to turn her?” Sean asked after Angie left.

“No. The apocalypse really isn’t ideal for creating more vampires. I’d lose a lot of power if I made a fledgling now, and we can’t afford the downtime I’d need to recover. We have to make sure that the humans can thrive, because if they go, we go.”

“That’s very practical of you.”

“Do you disagree?”

“No.” Sean followed me through the secret door in the back of the closet. “You have a plan for relocating these people somewhere safer?”

“Not sure if it will be safer, but we’re working on it.” I opened up the coffin, and then held my hand out. “Dirt?”

The corners of his mouth twitched as he withdrew a small cotton square, like a pillow, and gave it to me. I slipped it into a pocket in the lining at the foot of the coffin.

“I don’t know how we’re going to fit you in here. How tall are you?” I asked.

“I’m 6’2”,” he replied.

My coffin was too big for me, because I liked the extra room, but he was a whole foot taller than me. “We’ll put new coffin on the top of the shopping list.”

“Will you really teach me to fly?” he asked.

I blinked. “Yes. Fly, duel, whatever else our Master conveniently forgot to teach you about defending yourself. Give me your jacket, I’ll hang it up.”

He watched me with a bemused expression as I took care of the garment, shed my shoes and paused next to the open coffin.

“Okay. Here are the ground rules. No kissing, no groping, no biting. Hands above the waist at all times. I don’t care if you normally sleep in the nude, you’re wearing clothes here, and—”

“Do you?” he interrupted.

“Do I what?”

“Sleep in the nude.”

“Not anymore.”

Sean nodded. “I understand. I prefer it this way. As I said earlier, I wish for things to remain…cordial between us, but no more than that. I have no wish to return to the casual overindulgence of Tara.”

Interesting. My first instinct was that he wasn’t attracted to women, but that couldn’t be true considering his all-female flock. I’d hated my life at Tara, but I’d always assumed that the men loved it. It never occurred to me that one of my brothers might have been just as traumatized as I was.

“Agreed. Get in,” I ordered.

“Yes, ma’am.”

We ended up tangled together like a game of vampire Twister. My inner demon rolled and purred like a cat after a hit of nip, pleased at having an incubus nearby. “I like him. He’s handsome. We should keep him too.”

That didn’t bode well, but there was nothing I could do about it, because we were keeping him. It wasn’t like I could kick him out in the street. The lethargy of sunrise began to settle over us, and Sean cleared his throat.

“Lizzy?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. Philippe would have killed me and stolen my flock.”

“He still might. I’m not sure we’re strong enough to kill him,” I warned.

“Life is about the journey,” Sean murmured. “I’ll stand with you. It’s the right thing to do.”