Crimson Vengeance (15 page)

She couldn’t stand it any longer. Ivy touched his face, the fine stubble on his cheek rough against her fingertips. “You’re not wrong.”

His mouth was on hers, lips, tongue, even the light brush of teeth. It brought a whimper from her throat.

She let her hands come up to touch him, following the flow of his body from his shoulders to the smooth lines of his ass. He pressed against her, the hardness of his cock hot through the thin fabric of her nightshirt.

He felt good, smelled wonderful, and kissed her like she’d never been kissed before. It would probably be wise to go back to her room, only she wasn’t about to turn tail and hide. Something that felt this good wasn’t the kind of thing to run away from.

Instead, she melted into him. The message was as clear as if she’d screamed
take me, baby, take me
. Desire flushed her skin in a blanket of warmth. She needed him as much as she wanted him.

He reached down to the hem of her shirt and broke the kiss long enough to pull it over her head. It fluttered to the floor somewhere in the room. His skin was hot against hers and once again she whimpered. Hand in hand, he drew her to the bed, and as she lay back against the pillows, he paused to gaze down at her.

“You’re so beautiful.” He brushed the hair from her face.

Ivy traced a finger down his hip. “You aren’t so hard to look at yourself.”

“Ah, the magic of poor light.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“It hides the scars.”

“Wouldn’t matter,” she told him as she drew him down on top of her.

He kissed her, his tongue parting her lips. The kiss was deep, passionate, intoxicating. She ran her hands down his body, settling on the cheeks of his ass. Round and firm, they felt divine against her palms. His cock pressed against her and she raised her hips to meet him. “Are you sure?” he murmured.

“Completely.”

He came into her slowly, joining them inch by inch. She was wet, hot, and ready. Gentle at first, he seemed to hesitate. Ivy didn’t want gentle. She wanted him hard, fast, and now.

Seeming to sense her thoughts, Colin groaned and moved against her with a fierceness that mirrored her own need. Just this side of rough, he moved with her until something broke inside and she screamed, arching her back and digging her nails into his back.

A moment later, he gave one final thrust and shuddered.

Collapsing against her, Colin gasped, his chest heaving. “Oh, my God. I think you might’ve just killed me.”

“That bad?” she said against his cheek.

“No. That good, even if it was a quickie.”

She smoothed the damp hair from his face. “Not exactly what I’d call a quickie.”

He rolled next to her and propped his head on a hand. “What would you call it then?”

“An explosion.”

He laughed, the sound breathless. “That it was.”

How did you become a vampire hunter?”

Colin was on his back, relaxed after their second go-around. This time, it had been slow, easy, and wonderful. She tasted good. She felt even better. He could lie here forever and it’d be just fine.

In the heat of their passion, the hallway light remained on and still spilled into the bedroom. He could see her body as she stretched out next to him, serene and beautiful. Though he’d never been in love before, he suspected it felt something like this.

“Hmm,” he muttered, close to sleep for the first time since he’d crawled into Ivy’s guestroom bed.

She ran a finger down his cheek, to touch his lips. “How did you become a vampire hunter? I mean, really, Colin, you didn’t just wake up one morning and decide to track down and destroy creatures of the night.”

“True.” He turned and kissed her cheek.

“Most people don’t even believe vampires exist.”

“True again.”

He was stalling. Sleep was suddenly far away. He kept his eyes closed and pretended to be still dozing. He was afraid to give up the act. Beyond the monsignor and several hunters he’d apprenticed under, he’d never shared his story. The thought of doing it now made his stomach roll. If he just lay quiet and pretended to be sleepy, maybe she’d let it go.

Ivy stroked his chest, her small hand warm and soothing. He liked the way it felt against his skin. “You don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not.”

Oh, what the heck.
His pretense at sleep probably didn’t fool her anyway. “I was twelve years old when a vampire killed my parents and my sister.” His mouth was dry as the words pushed past his lips.

It was even harder than he thought to say the words out loud.

She gasped and put a hand to her heart. “Oh, good lord, Colin.

I’m so sorry.”

In his head he could still see the flashing lights and somber faces he’d encountered outside his house. The entire street had been lit up like Christmas, except there had been nothing even close to holiday cheer in the gathering.

“It wasn’t much more than the luck of the draw I didn’t die that night as well. If I hadn’t spent the night with my buddy, I’d be dead too. When I came home, police cars and social workers were everywhere. I wanted to go in the house to my family, but they held me back.”

“Terrible.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He ran both hands through his hair, his mind full of memories he’d rather not have. “It didn’t feel real, which is why I begged to see my family. I wanted to see, to understand. I never got to. At first, nothing made any sense. Not until the monsignor stepped in. He was the only one who found a way to help me. He didn’t try to protect me from the truth. He just gave it to me in a way I could understand it.” He remembered the first time he saw Monsignor Dobrescu.

To a twelve-year-old, he appeared ancient with his silver hair and fine lines around his smoky gray eyes. Thinking back now, Colin realized he couldn’t have been more than fifty. Hard to believe twenty-five years had elapsed since then. In some ways, it felt as though it happened yesterday and, in other ways, a thousand years ago.

Impressions change over time, and while Monsignor seemed prehistoric to his adolescent self, he was a man who barely showed his age now. Colin only hoped he would look so good when he hit his mid-seventies. Except he didn’t think he’d be that lucky. Some days he felt about eighty now. What would he feel like when he actually did get there? If he did.

He brought his thoughts back around to the story and continued, stroking the smooth skin of Ivy’s back. “The monsignor was special and he took control of my life. He gave me a sense of direction nobody else was able to. He understood what I needed and when I needed it.”

“No one stepped up to take you in?” Her hand rested on his chest and her fingers stroked the fine hair that trailed down his flat belly. It sent shivers through him. “What about the rest of your family?”

“I didn’t have anyone. Both of my parents were only children, and their parents were either gone or too old to care for me. As it turned out it was probably a good thing I went with Monsignor, because my only living grandfather died just eighteen months after the rest of my family. I’d have had just enough time to get really attached to him before he died too. And, after all that, I’d have still ended up in the same boat.”

“That’s so sad.” She hugged him and kissed his shoulder.

“Yes and no.”

“Yes and no?”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’ll miss my parents and my sister until the day I die. I’ll always wonder what my life might have been like if they’d lived. At the same time, Monsignor gave me purpose—a really important purpose. All of my adult life, I’ve felt as though this is where I was destined to be. I’m an invisible soldier in a war most people don’t even know is being waged. I have the skills and, after the loss of my family, I have the motivation.”

She began to stroke his chest again. “You’re a warrior.”

“Yes, I fight and I win. I’ve been winning for a very long time now and, finally, I’m so close I can feel the end coming. It’s empowering in a very strange way. It’s as if I’m making up for spending the night with my buddy and not dying with my family.”

Ivy shivered against him. “I don’t even want to think about that.”

“I’m not done though. I’ll finish what they started.”

She put her cheek to his chest. “But if you finally destroy the last vampire, what’ll you do with your life then?”

The same question had run through his mind at least a thousand times. Each time the thought arose, he pushed it aside. It didn’t matter what became of him. Making the world a better place so others, like himself, didn’t have to face the world alone, did. Despite his deep connection with Monsignor and the church, the reality of his life was a bitter loneliness. He worked, lived, and would, in all likelihood, die alone. He didn’t wish his life on anyone.

Except, all of a sudden, he didn’t feel as though he was in the world by himself. It was as if his life had been leading him here all along. Yes, he was on the trail of a vampire, but it seemed at this moment as though the hunt wasn’t the ultimate endgame.

“I don’t know,” he said after a long pause. “I guess I’ll have to take the AA approach and live my life one day at a time.” He really didn’t know how to do anything else. He hadn’t gone to college.

He’d never held a real job. It’d be a brand-new world.

Ivy shivered. “That’d be scary.”

“Yeah, it’ll be scary to me too, but I don’t know what else to do. I’ve done this for so long, I’ve never given myself a chance to even think about what else I might do with my life. First things first, though. There are still a few vampires out there, which means I still have a job.”

Ivy sighed and hugged him closer. “Then we’d better try for a little sleep or we’ll be toast later on. We won’t be good to anyone if we’re asleep on our feet.”

He kissed the top of her head. He loved the way she smelled and how warm she felt snuggled tight to him. “Good idea. Go to sleep, little angel.”

She laughed softly. “Not many people I know would call me a little angel. I can think of a few other names, but
angel
isn’t one of them.”

“They don’t know you then.”

“Ah, you’re just feeling generous because you got lucky.”

“I don’t think it was luck, Ivy,” he whispered into her hair.

She sighed, pushed up on one elbow, and studied his face. “No,”

she murmured, and smiled slowly. “Maybe not luck.” She kissed him on the lips, then stretched out next to him again, snuggling tight against him.

It wasn’t long before he could feel her peaceful, even breathing.

Despite her protests to the contrary, she slept like an angel, with her head still on his chest and an arm slung over his stomach. He tightened his arms around her as he stared at the ceiling.

Sleep eluded him. Not a big mystery considering the turbulent thoughts racing through his mind. While he and Ivy made love, it was easy to push his troubling conversation with Monsignor to the back of his mind. Now, every word Monsignor said roared back into his consciousness like a load of bricks dropping on his head.

Before Ivy, his world was black and white. Vampires were bad and hunters were good. Black and white.

Now, he wondered how he’d be able to tell Ivy her friend wasn’t who she believed her to be. Not even close. Doctor Riah Preston wore a carefully constructed mask, and behind it was a vampire he’d hunted for the last quarter century. That wasn’t the worst of his problems either. If he couldn’t figure out how to tell Ivy her friend Riah was an imposter, how would he be able to explain to Ivy why he had to kill her?

Riah was in the office early for her. The sun was just beginning to set when she pulled out of her driveway and headed for the Public Safety Building. She’d rested, nourished herself, and taken a long, hot shower. If nothing else, she smelled good and looked put-together. No one would have a clue how rattled she was.

For the third time in as many days, she called and left Ivy a voice mail asking her to come to the office in Spokane. Even though it was over two hundred miles round trip, it was one of those things that couldn’t be helped. Given what was happening lately, she needed the few and the trusted around her. Ivy was the best person Riah had ever known to bounce thoughts and theories off. She had a great, quick, open mind.

In contrast, she trusted Colin Jamison only by default, but she didn’t like having to. She preferred to call the shots on who she did or didn’t share her secret with. Telling the wrong person could be fatal.

Through the years, she’d had friends, vampire friends, who made tragic choices in confidants, literally costing them their heads.

Though Riah didn’t want to live forever, she didn’t want a stake through the heart or a sword to separate her head from her shoulders.

Strange as it sounded, she wanted to age like a regular mortal, to grow old and fade away as she should have done so many centuries ago. Never again did she want to stay young and beautiful while a dear friend or someone she loved withered and died. If Adriana was successful, she might very well get her wish.

If not…

Not now. She refused to think about the possibility of that scenario. She needed to focus on the deaths piling up on her doorstep.

Someone was littering the I-90 corridor with bodies and she wanted to know who and why. This last murder was even worse than Jorge, if that was possible. To take a Washington State Patrolman, and out in the open alongside the freeway, took some serious guts. Or was seriously stupid.

Riah didn’t believe this killer was stupid. The murder of the patrolman had a cold, calculated feel. The vampire responsible for these killings, this Destiny, if Colin was right, seemed to take pleasure in delivering death. She knew the type well. Destiny wasn’t the first vampire to possess what this century called a god complex.

Rodolphe had the same kind of arrogance. He believed himself untouchable. If he’d lived long enough, he would’ve been a huge fan of Friedrich Nietzsche. He’d have framed the “superior men have no moral boundaries” quote or had it carved in marble. Rodolphe not only believed he was a superior man, but a superior vampire.

He killed without regard to any living being or threat to his own existence. The world, in his eyes, revolved around him. These days, they’d label him a narcissist.