Armored Hearts (2 page)

Judging from his pallor and the raw hunger in his eyes as he stared down at her, it had been a week or more since he’d fed.

“Shit,” she said wearily. “Your hemosynther’s on the blink.”

“You blew it up nine days ago,” he told her hoarsely.

* * *

Sweet Jesus, the grunts had captured a bloodsub. Rand glanced around for downed G.A.E. bodies -- unconscious or dead -- and was surprised there weren’t any. They’d been lucky she hadn’t managed to take a few of them out before they got her down. Bloodsubs had more than enough strength, speed and skill to take on armored troopers and kick their collective asses. That was, after all, what ‘subs had been designed to do… along with keeping vampires alive and sane.

And where the hell
was
her vampire? If he’d had a woman like this, he sure wouldn’t let her get attacked and almost raped. Not as long as he was still breathing, anyway.

Which meant her vamp had to be dead.

The bloodsub lay panting in the shreds of her red Vampire Support armor, looking like a gift from the gods, beautiful even with dirt smeared all over that luscious body. Her legs looked delightfully long and curving, her breasts round and white, with candy pink nipples that seemed to beg for his teeth. Her waist was tiny, her hips just wide enough to cradle a hungry vampire. And her swan’s throat was white and long, carotid beating a rhythm of temptation Rand could hear where he stood.

Her face was fully a match for that exquisite body, from Slavic cheekbones to full pink lips, green eyes wide as she looked up at him, lashes long and feathery. A gorgeous blonde mane of hair foamed around her face. He wanted to wrap it around his fist while he fucked and fed on her. Now.

Rand fought down the lust enough to manage speech. “Are you all right?” he asked hoarsely. “Did they… ?”

She shook her head and climbed wearily to her feet. “You got here in time.”

Rand tried not to stare as her lovely breasts juddered with each panting breath. Dragging his famished gaze away, he turned the approach of the small squad of men he trusted at his back. The five jogged up in their black mechsuits, staring at the naked Falaran. He picked out a familiar round face with guileless blue eyes. “Corporal Rainsley, check the shelters. Find this woman something to wear.”

“Yessir.” Rainsley turned and loped away like the earnest young idealist he was.

Rand turned back to the captive -- only to find her staring at him with a bloodsub’s erotic hunger. Sucking in a breath, he somehow managed not to fall on her like the ravening animal he was one deep breath from being.

Nine days, nine hellish days without blood, surrounded by Godssonist zealots he didn’t dare feed from. It would probably set off a mutiny, Godsson’s theology on the subject of vampires being what it was. Rand had worked too hard for too many years to win a reputation as a capable, coolly disciplined merc to blow it all just because he was a little hungry.

Scan that woman
, he ordered his computer implant.
What’s wrong with her
?

Her body temperature is abnormally high, and it appears her immune system is attacking her cells. High probability of blood sickness. I estimate it has been weeks since she’s drunk vampire blood
.

Well, shit
, Rand thought. He had never actually seen a sub with a case of blood sickness, but he knew how it worked. Her immune system was killing her as it tried to destroy the vampire virus that infected every cell of her body. She needed a blood exchange in order to reinforce the virus, subdue the autoimmune disease, and return her body to health and strength.

Rand had exactly what she needed.

As if in an effort to seduce him, her body was pumping pheromones that called to his with such power he had to fight the instinct to jerk her into his arms.

Rainsley returned to hand her a bundle of clothing. She took it, thanked him stiffly, and started to dress, her gaze wary, her movements slow with exhaustion. Her hands shook.

Rand growled, gesturing at the bruises that speckled her smooth skin like blue and purple camouflage. “This is utterly unacceptable. The next man I find abusing a captive will…” He let a little pause develop and bared his aching fangs, letting their imaginations fill in the threat. “… Definitely regret it.”

Lieutenant Godshammer spoke up again, sullen rebellion in his eyes. “Begging the Captain’s pardon, but His Holy Exalted did say we have an obligation to, ah… discipline female soldiers for their lack of femininity. I realize you don’t walk the True Path…” Which was the bastard’s “subtle” way of reminding his fellow soldiers that Rand Was Not One of Them. “… But we have the right to…”

“… Commit war crimes?” Rand demanded, losing his temper. “Violate the interplanetary treaty Godsson himself signed? Because that’s exactly what the attempted rape of an enemy combatant is, lieutenant.”

“But…”

“But nothing. I took an oath to uphold the Treaty of Vermillion when I became a mercenary, and I will not permit those under my command to violate it because somebody had a fucking boner. Is that clear?”

Godshammer flinched just slightly from the rage on his face, though the man obviously tried to suppress his reaction.

When he said nothing, Rand looked from the lieutenant’s face to his accomplices. “I will review your combat comps’ recordings of this incident, from the moment you first detected her until I pulled you off. You’ll be informed of my decision.” He swept another acid glare over them. “Dismissed. Finish securing this base. And if you find any other enemy combatants, notify me.”

At that, all the men saluted, lowered their faceplates, and scattered, armored boots thumping as they hurried off.

Rand turned toward his new captive and took her elbow, steering her gently toward a nearby shelter. “In here. I’d like to have a word.” He had to get her somewhere private. It wouldn’t do to lambaste his men for trying to rape her, only to let them see him taking her blood. Never mind he could smell her desperation, which was every bit as great as his own. They knew nothing about the relationship between bloodsub and vampire dominant, wouldn’t understand the difference between a blood exchange and rape. Still, he needed her. Had to have her.

If she lets me
.

Zara found herself impressed by the enemy vampire’s iron will. If anything, he had to be in worse shape than she was. That was saying something, because every cell in her body was howling its need for release, for the lushly erotic sensation of fangs sinking into her throat, drawing off the brutal pressure that had been building behind her eyes for weeks.

Never mind that he was her enemy, never mind that she didn’t even know his name. Their bodies recognized each other on a level that went beyond politics or war or anything but raw sexual craving. Each could fulfill the other’s hungers. That was all their bodies knew. All they needed to know.

She followed him into the temp shelter he’d seemed to pick at random. It was wrecked and empty, clothes, e-flimsies and furniture scattered wildly, a mark of her fellow soldiers’ desperation as they’d fled. They’d been too badly outnumbered, in too poor a position, to do anything else. Falaran High Command had given the order to retreat, and they’d obeyed.

Zara had volunteered to do her bit to delay the enemy, knowing what she was letting herself in for. It wasn’t as if she could have kept up with the desperate retreat anyway. Lieutenant Colonel Kassir had initially refused to allow her self-sacrifice, until Zara reminded the woman she was dead regardless. The last of the Falaran vampires had died in the Battle of the Sar Caverns five weeks before. Without a vamp to help her subdue her rampaging immune system, she’d be dead within the week. If her life was lost anyway, she wanted to die saving Falaran lives.

It had evidently worked; most of the others seemed to have escaped. She hoped.

“I am in need,” the vampire captain told her, his voice a dark, seductive rumble. Startled, Zara met his golden eyes. They seemed to blaze in the dim light. “May I take you?” he asked.

She laughed, the sound a little wild as she hunched her chilled shoulders. The fever had to be getting pretty high. “You remind me of a courtly wolf, asking the lamb’s permission to eat her.”

“Sometimes even a wolf needs the veneer of civility.” He moved closer until his broad, armored body loomed over her like a wall.

Zara studied him carefully, suddenly aware of just how alone they were -- and how much stronger he was. Yet nothing had forced him to come to her rescue. Hell, he could have easily gone to the head of the rapist line. “It’s more than a veneer, I think,” she said.
And maybe if I give him what he needs, he’ll give me what I need. Better not ask him yet, though. What if he says no? I’ll wait until he’s done -- and hopefully in a better mood
. Decision made, she smiled slightly. “Yes, Captain. Yes, you can have what you need.”
Have
it, not
take
it.

He studied her, his gaze intent, intimate. “What if I need more than your blood?”

Zara licked her lips, suddenly aware again of how very male he was. How handsome, how tempting. She shouldn’t, she knew she shouldn’t. Yes, for both vampires and their V.S.S., drinking blood was a deeply intimate act. In fact, interstellar vamps like the captain often had dominant/submissive relationships with those who fed them. Things were a little different on Falara because she and other volunteers had allowed themselves to be infected in order to better defend their people from invaders.

But she still needed him. “You can have that, too,” Zara said hoarsely.

The vampire smiled and took off his helmet, then put it down on the bunk. As she watched in growing tension, he took his armored gauntlets off. He dropped them beside the helmet with a soft, heavy thump. She controlled her instinctive flinch when his hands came up to cup her jaw, his skin cool against her feverish flesh. “Thank you,” he said, his voice deep, sensual. “Thank you for your blood.” Leaning down, he took her mouth tenderly. “Your trust.” His lips soft, he kissed her, suckling her mouth, tasting her lips. “Your body.”

He deepened the kiss, suckling, nibbling gently before his tongue swept in to possess her mouth, swirling and licking. Her knees weakened, and she sank into him, his armor hard and chill against her body. She wished suddenly, violently, that she could touch him.

When he finally drew away again, he gazed so deeply into her eyes, it seemed he saw clear to her soul. He stepped back and took her shoulders, then turned her gently until her back was to him. She realized his air of desperate restraint was gone. Now he seemed to be spinning out the moment before taking her, savoring the erotic anticipation.

She felt her nipples pebble against the material of the one piece unisuit one of his men had found for her.

Smoothly, his hands moved up her arms to the closure of the uni, unsealed it, and pulled it off her shoulders to hang from the crook of her arms, leaving her breasts naked under his eyes. “You will not regret your generosity, lieutenant.”

His long, strong fingers flicked delicately at the hard tips of her nipples, then gently pinched and pulled, sending a jolt of pleasure up her over sensitized nerves. “My name,” he said in her ear, “is Captain Nick Rand.” Big hands cupped her breasts, pulling her back against him.

He lowered his head until she could feel his breath blowing along her pulse. “And I promise you, captor or not, I will not take anything you don’t choose to give. Ever.”

A sudden, hot pain made her spine arch as he sank his teeth into her throat. He growled in pleasure and gathered her closer, pinching her nipples with sweet, wicked skill.

Zara gasped as he released one aching breast and brushed his free hand down the front of the uni to find her bare cunt in the unbuttoned opening. Long fingers stroked between her lips. She’d begun creaming the moment she saw him, and now she was richly wet. A thick tapered forefinger slid easily into her core as he pinched and squeezed the hard tip of one breast with the other hand. His mouth moved over her flesh, feasting from her throat. He rolled his armored hips against her ass. She wished she could feel the length of his cock against her back, knew it would feel hard and demanding.

Closing her eyes, she sagged against him, surrendering herself utterly to the vampire’s appetite.
This is only the beginning
. Her body leaped at the thought, hot with need and lust.
Once he’s had my blood, he’ll want to fuck me next. Godsson’s zealots being the jealous assholes they are, he probably hasn’t had access to a woman in months
.

She shouldn’t do this. He was the enemy, and she shouldn’t sleep with him, no matter how much she wanted to. It was wrong.

But oh, sweet God, how she wanted to. The thought of sleeping with him despite every dictate of common sense maddened her with its sheer kinky recklessness. Gasping, she rolled her butt back against him hard, imagining the bulk of his cock driving inside her.

Whimpering, Zara felt the pleasure unspool through her like hot satin ribbons. His fingers pinched her nipple even harder, as a second finger joined the one plundering her juicy cunt. He drew hard on her throat, drinking her blood as his fingers pumped, his thumb flicking over her clit. Each skillful strum over her button intensified the pleasure until she writhed against his armored chest, pumping her hips, gasping, whimpering.

With a scream that blended pain, delight and erotic surrender, Zara came in the arms of her vampire enemy, barely aware of his rumble of predatory delight as he fed.

The last juicy throb faded, and she went limp in his arms, sagging, weak kneed. “Oooh, my God,” she moaned. “That was so good.”

He rumbled back at her, a hum that sounded more than a little satisfied. And very male.

When he was through, he drew his fangs carefully from her throat. Pressed a surprisingly tender kiss to the point of her jaw. “I feel a little strange asking this, under the circumstances, but what’s your name?”

She grinned, enjoying the delicious post-orgasm glow. “Lieutenant Zara Tahir. Vampire Support Specialist.”