Angel of Death: Book One of the Chosen Chronicles (58 page)

“That was incredible,” he sighed.

“I’m no finished yet,” she grinned. “Roll over.”

“I don’t think I can,” he said, his voice muffled as he buried his face in the pillow. Pale arms tightened around the pillow, hugging it so as to anchor him.

Jeanie chuckled. This had gone better than she had hoped. “If ye dinna turn over I wilna be able to finish.”

With a groan of effort, he rolled onto his back, his eyes catching hers, returning her grin with lips closed. She loved the way he stretched, arms reaching for the ceiling before lowering them to lightly rest his hands against his trim muscular abdomen.

Picking up the bottle, Jeanie poured some more of the wonderful oil into her hand and smoothed it over his marred thigh, enjoying the sight of his naked trust. With a single passing she could feel that the muscles beneath the skin felt wrong, out of place. The scar was large and puckered. Where the scars on his back felt soft and thin, the one on his leg was rough and ugly. Finding a tight mass, she dug her in her thumbs in an attempt to work out the tension.

He yelped, his hand crashing against hers, causing her to jump. Jeanie lifted her head to see he was sitting up, his face close to hers, and her hands dropped to her sides.

His disconcerted expression was fixed on his leg before bringing his gaze to land on her. “That hurt,” he whispered, shaking his head, sending white strands waving. “That shouldn’t have hurt.”

Jeanie’s mouth opened in surprise. “I’m sorry. I dinna mean to.”

Pinched facial features relaxed. “I know, Jeanie.” He reached out to caress her face, still clearly concerned. “It’s just that it’s been centuries since I’ve felt even a twinge.” His soft whisper carried a sense of seriousness she did not understand.

“I’ll just continue elsewhere, then?” she seductively asked, needing to change the topic.

He met her eyes, nodded, and lay back down, a lazy grin lifting his lips as he watched her. Jeanie did not need to be a mind reader to sense what he was thinking. Massaging him had warmed not only her hands, but she was not finished yet. With a final dollop of oil in her left hand, Jeanie hiked up her shift with the other and straddled him. This was part of the massage she had a feeling he was going to enjoy the most.

With a shuddering sigh, he closed his eyes, and she felt him stir beneath her.

“I think I like your surprises,” he mumbled.

Rubbing her hands together, she placed them on his chest and began the long strokes to distribute the oil. Her hands glided over the skin of his smooth chest and abdomen, delighting her as she felt the contours of each muscle before running her hands down his sides, feeling the ribs beneath. She heard his breath catch as her hands gently grazed over his nipples, feeling them erect under her careful ministration.

Oh how she wanted to have her lips discover what her hands had found and she leaned over. Cinnamon waves cascaded over to caress his skin and she felt his breath catch as she placed her lips at the base of his collarbone, the shift in movement causing her to lie fully onto top of his firm body. She set her arms to his sides, supporting her weight as the cinnamon oil fired her lips.

Slowly, meticulously she worked lips and tongue across and down, feeling his breath come in halting gasps at each pull of his skin. She wanted to devour him, draw him into the centre of her being and keep him there. She moaned when her mouth found his, his fingers entangling themselves in her hair. This time she was the invader and she opened her mouth, finding him willing to allow for her exploration.

He tasted faintly of metal and though not entirely unpleasant, it was still a surprise. She pressed further, tongues caressing until she felt the needle sharpness of his teeth. The promise of what those teeth could do pulled her back and she lifted her face from his.

Crimson eyes wide and dilated, his breath heavy, the need for her naked on his face, Jeanie knew she wanted what he offered without hesitation. It was the promise of ecstasy that drove her as each kiss kindled a fire that shot to her groin, driving a moan from her lips. Her need for him consumed her and she sat up, impaling herself on his rigid member with a sigh until she could not take any more. The suddenness of her movement drove a cry from his lips, urging her on as she slowly rocked.

Eyes closed, head thrown back, shocks of pleasure trembled her body. Each thrust drove a cry from her as she tried to take him deeper with herself. She wanted all of him and he did not begrudge her desires.

A shift in position made her gasp and she found herself gazing up at him. Strong pale arms wrapped around her, guiding her movements. Bending his head, his lips a butterfly’s touch against hers as his hair spilled to caress her face. Reaching up, she brushed his hair from their faces and trailed deep kisses along his jaw, tasting him with her tongue. There was no roughness, just soft smooth skin.

He cocked his head to the side, allowing Jeanie to work herself down as they moved together. She found the pulsing vessel in his neck and kissed, pulling at the skin, grazing it with her dull teeth. She knew what this would do to him and was rewarded with a growl. His thrust went deep, forcing a gasp to escape her lips.

His movements became more urgent within her and she moaned, her mouth against his neck. Jeanie wanted all of him. Each thrust causing her to tighten in the precursor of exquisite release. Teasing the sensitive spot on his neck, she suckled and then bit not caring that he had told her not to do this.

His deep shuddering cry brought her head up and she stared into his eyes, their bodies fully entwined. The ruby iris was nearly gone against the dark blood red of his pupils and she instantly knew she had pushed him too far. Fear percolated up. She wanted to move, but she could not tear her eyes away from his and realized his hand pinned her.

He moved beneath her, never taking his eyes off of her. Each thrust found their limit, igniting her in pleasure borne pain that threatened to steal her soul. Her breath came in gasps matched by his, and she felt her head tilted back. She could not move except for what he allowed and she wanted it all, everything that he could give her.

Needle sharp teeth grazed against her neck and then sank deep within in unison with his thrust, breaking skin. Her cry of release rocked her body, shuddering, feeling his orgasm deep within, matching her own. Each pull on her blood renewed the never-ending spasms and she held him tightly, never desiring to let go as she rode each intoxicating wave.

Suddenly, she was sent flying backwards to land bouncing against the bed. Shocked and confused, the moment completely shattered, Jeanie rolled over in a tangle of sheet and blankets and got to her knees, her shift twisted around her legs.

Pain and terror contorted his beautiful face. His body tensed and curled as he sat on the edge over the bed, a spasm of agony ripping through him.

Something was horribly wrong. Scrambling over the covers, Jeanie knelt beside him afraid to touch him as another paroxysm twisted him.

“Oh my God, Gwyn, what’s wrong?” she yelled, panicked.

His eyes squeezed tight as his body seized again. Once past he opened his eyes and she realized he could not catch his breath. His pleading gaze froze her to the core, ripping into her heart. She did not know what was wrong. She did not know what to do.

Another seizure racked his body and she watched in horror as his eyes rolled back and he fell limply to the floor. Her scream rang deafly in her ears as she rushed to his side, tears streaming down her face.

The bedroom door slammed open its crystal handle shattering as it embedded in the wall behind. Fernando stood wearing only his black silk robe, its hem swung against his bare calves, one hand on the doorframe, the other on the remaining knob. Dark brown waves normally neat and tidy now gave evidence of disrupted sleep.

Jeanie jumped at the bang, her eyes wide at seeing the Noble’s face twisted with concern and rising anger.

“What the hell happened?” roared Fernando, taking quick steps into the bedroom to kneel beside the prone Angel, his dark hand looking for a pulse and finding none.

Jeanie shuffled back on her knees, pushed out of the way. Fernando turned to glare at her after taking quick stock of the situation, his large brown eyes filled with menace.

“What did you do?” The threat in his tone was explicit through his clenched jaw.

She had not expected the Noble to come into the room. Now he was here, maybe, just maybe he could help. After all he was a vampire.

Hiccoughing back her sobs, Jeanie stammered, “I dinna ken.” She shrunk into herself as the brown eyes bore into her, filling her with fear. “One moment –“

“I know that!” spat Fernando, sneering. “I can smell it.” Jeanie paled. Ignoring her, Fernando pressed, lifting her up by her upper arms until they were standing. “Answer my question.”

“I dinna ken,” sobbed Jeanie. Her arms throbbed painfully, her hands pressing against soft silk. Fernando was supposed to know what to do.

His eyes drove into her and she felt the tension leak from her legs, leaving them rubbery and unable to withstand her weight. He caught her before she could fall. Heart hammering in her chest, Jeanie watched his gaze slide down to her neck. Fear redoubled and she futilely tried to break from his grasp. His hand gripped hard enough to make her gasp. She stumbled as one hand released her arm and brushed the mark on her neck. The sensation sent her trembling. She could not pull her gaze from his.

Drawing his hand away from her neck, a glistening red bead quivered on his index finger. Jeanie watched in horror as he brought the taste of her blood to his lips. Never taking his eyes off of her, he licked the red jewel, testing its bouquet.

Brown eyes flashing darkly were the only precursor to the pain of being slammed up against the wall. Blackness popped in her vision as her head bounced against the paper covered plaster. No longer supported by Fernando’s iron grip Jeanie slumped to the ground, her tears momentarily halted by the stunning action.

“You stupid little bitch,” roared Fernando, bearing down on her. “You’re contaminated. You poisoned him.”

Realization widened Jeanie’s eyes and dropped her jaw. This could not be happening. There was no way she could have eaten anything with the spice. It was in England. Not here. Not France. Wasn’t it? She had not eaten anything with the spice mixture. It was being given out in soup kitchens and she did not eat there. Then she remembered the breakfast and she burst into tears. Those delicious sausages and the fact that the hotel knew the address of the shipping house, it was too late to put two and two together. She had poisoned the man she loved.

Scrabbling out from under Fernando’s grasp, Jeanie made a mad dash across the floor. He could not be dead. She grasped his pale shoulder and gave it a rough shake, tears spilled down her face. “Please Gwyn, please, dinna be dead. Wake up, damn it.”

She felt a presence next to her and she looked up to see through watery eyes, Fernando kneeling beside her, his jaw tight in restrained fury. “Is he?” She hated how small her voice seemed as she pleaded with the Noble.

“I can’t tell.” His voice slid through his sneer. “I’ll get a knife. If he heals he’s alive, if not...” He let the sentence hang as he stood.

Panic flared up. “No!” she exclaimed. Fernando could not use a knife on the Angel. If he were still alive it would burn him and that would give him away. She had promised to keep his secret. She released a heavy sigh as the Noble stood over her, his hatred burning.

“There must be another way,” she implored.

Reluctantly, Fernando knelt back down. After shooting her another threatening glare he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Jeanie had no clue what he was doing and flinched when his hand landed against the scarred back, his hand almost brown against the Angel’s white skin.

“Back away,” ordered Fernando, his eyes still closed. “I can’t hear.”

Clambering to her feet, Jeanie haltingly backed up until she felt the wall with a thump. She did not know what Fernando was doing, but if it meant that the Angel would live, she would do it.