Dracula's Desires (13 page)

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Authors: Linda Mercury

BOOK: Dracula's Desires
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C
HAPTER
29
“
T
hey must be suicidal,” Valerie said as she set the case for her sniper rifle down on the rough-finished wood floor.
The building across the narrow, dirty street from across the Harker city house had all the charm and comfort of a flea-bitten hut with holes in the thatching. Dust and soot gathered on her suit. Naturally, Lance remained dry, shining, and unblemished while Valerie's rain-drenched hair soaked her collar and spoiled her coat.
Bastard, she thought, but without any heat.
Lance crossed to the window and pushed aside the lace window. “This has to be one of Lucifer's ideas. It's overly complicated, tedious, and involves too many people.”
Valerie opened the case and began assembling her rifle with sure, confident hands. “If the goal is to die, then it'll work.”
Lance opened the sticky window sash for her. “Can't be Lucifer's plan, then. They never work.”
Valerie set up the tripod and arranged the weapon to her liking. “Go ahead and make contact.”
Lance extended his mind. With a tiny nudge, he greeted his former friends directly in their brains.
“Hello, again”,
he said.
“What is going on?” Panic in her voice, the housemaid clutched at her head just as Maxwell pitched forward onto the polished parquet floor. Every Rebel agent in the house heard Lance Soleil's enormous angelic voice in their heads. Only John, preparing food in the kitchen, and Mina, alone in her office, didn't react to the painful call of the Divine.
Lucifer's tonsils, it felt like all the bells in Notre Dame were exploding in his head all at once.
Maxwell wobbled to a window and pounded against the glass. “Turn it down!”
The cacophony stilled. The silence hurt worse than the call.
Even though Maxwell hadn't seen Lance since the Revolution, he recognized the other angel immediately. The ascended bastard looked better than ever. The black and white formal dress suited Lance's icy blue eyes and blond hair. Damnation, he looked like James Bond, handsome and deadly. Maxwell tugged at the waistcoat that strained across his own softening stomach.
Soon, he promised himself. Now that Lance was here, Maxwell's secret plot would bear fruit.
He turned his gaze to the second man. His high cheekbones, dark hair, arrogant posture seemed familiar. It wasn't until the man hoisted a modern sniper rifle and aimed it right at Maxwell's head that the Second Revolutionary recognized him.
“It's the vampire,” Maxwell said, astonished. “She is here.”
“We need her out of here,” the housemaid said, worried. “The baby is everything.”
“Why did you kidnap a Guide?”
Lance asked quietly.
Maxwell held his hands palm down.
“We need you to kill us.”
“I can do that.” Valerie's rifle had zoomed in on Maxwell's eye with uncanny accuracy.
Lance touched her ear as lightly as possible.
“Why?”
he asked again.
“You can send us straight home.”
Maxwell chewed his lip. The moment was upon him. Eons of scheming depended on Lance's compassion and mercy.
“Allow your people to leave one at a time until only you and Miss Harker are left. I will take care of them. Once they are safe, I will release you both.”
The sweat that had been building on Maxwell's back dripped into his woolen undergarments. Not even the orgasms he had experienced were more intense than the remembered joy of home.
He signaled the housemaid with one hand. “Gather the others. Quietly, go outside one at a time.”
“Are we going to die?” the housemaid asked.
“Yes,” Maxwell answered.
 
 
“We are coming for you. Be ready.”
Lance's voice reverberated down the back of John's head, where the cervical vertebrae met the skull. The deep, sensual tones created a sympathetic vibration down his body, ending where his tailbone curved close to his anus. John tightened his butt muscles in arousal but kept his mental voice quiet.
“Where have you been, you idiot?”
“Making myself pretty for you. Get out of the house. Avoid Mina at all costs. It's time to go home.”
Mina's heels heralded her approach. Instead of her usual quiet and measured
click click click
, her rapid
CLACK CLACK CLACK
revealed an agitated state of mind. “Jonathon? Where is everyone?”
“I'm here, darling. I had sent all the servants away for a holiday. Are you feeling well?” Maxwell pattered up the stairs, catching Mina before she entered John's room. The Second Fallen had come to John's aid, distracting Mina for his escape.
Moving fast, he broke the warped glass out of his bedroom's window and jumped onto the soft muck of the ground below. He wasted a few precious moments to catch his footing and he was off, disappearing from the house's view in seconds.
“I'm out”,
he thought.
“Come to Hyde Park,”
Valerie answered.
“We leave from there.”
John sprinted with everything inside himself.
C
HAPTER
30
J
ohn ran blindly, hyperalert to any sound of chase. He couldn't see past his outstretched hand in the smothering fog; all he had left was his ears to direct him. A slight rustle to the right warned him before Lance grasped the Guide's elbow and spun him into Lance's embrace.
John gripped Lance's thick, blond hair and attacked the taller man's mouth. Lance wrapped John's jaw in his blunt-fingered hand and bit back. John went up on his toes, shoving Lance back two steps. As they jockeyed for dominance, John nudged Lance's knee and took them to the ground, the Guide on top.
John straddled Lance's crotch, held the blond's hands down, pinning him to the mud. The Frenchman shredded Lance's heavily starched shirt, ripping the old-style clothing to get to Lance's flesh.
Lance bucked, forcing their already-erect cocks into a punishing rhythm.
John pulled back for a breath. “You will not disappear on me again or I will do more than break your nose.”
“I missed you, too.” Lance's voice sounded raw, like the words had to be dragged out of him.
“Guys. We have to get out of here,” Valerie interrupted. A worn military backpack accessorized her rain-spotted evening clothes. “Let's go home.”
Still rubbing against John, Lance waved his fingers in a blurred pattern. Seconds later, they landed on a grassy knoll next to the Shelby. High wire fences and dozens of other cars surrounded her automobile. The Mustang had been impounded from being left in the parking lot.
John shrugged, blinded by lust, and slammed his mouth back on Lance's.
“The parameter's secure. We need to finish our deal with Maxwell. Lance, do your thing.”
No response but panting. She lowered her guard to glance at her partners.
Valerie had seen men kiss before. Someone doesn't reach over six hundred years old without learning a thing or two about human nature, but this was the first one she was invited to watch as she liked. And oh, did she ever like watching her men have their first kiss.
It was a humdinger, too. Fear. Love. Wonder. Valerie placed a hand on the small of John's back, steadying and comforting her lovers. Their strong jaws pressed against each other, licking at each other's mouths, teeth nipping at lips. Even as Lance struggled against John's grip, the lines of stress on both of their foreheads smoothed. John bit Lance's neck, digging his teeth into flesh as though he could suck Lance's essence down his throat.
Careless of her clothing, Valerie dropped into the mud and opened her own pants. Her fingers were cold and hard on her clit, but her body burned there like a blast furnace.
Fortunately, the baby was asleep. Valerie was not up to explaining the beauty of sexuality while she was chasing her own orgasm down like a hawk on a rabbit. Her free hand worked on the fastenings of her own shirt. Her overheated tits needed the cold air licking over them, right now. The muscles in her vagina pulsed over and over, spreading her thighs and the ground with her hot musk.
At her cry, the men rolled to cover her.
Valerie opened her mouth to question them, but Lance pulled her shirt's neckline farther under her breasts. Before she could argue, John latched on to one nipple.
Lance's strong fingers immediately set to work on her other breast until Valerie protested. “This is your time together,” she panted, smacking them away from her body.
John nipped. “Stop thinking.”
Lance ripped her shirt down to her waist. Slithering in the mud, he pushed under her, cupped her breasts, and offered them up to John's mouth.
John growled a little around her nipple before releasing it with a pop. Immediately, he pounced on her second breast.
Valerie's eyes rolled up into her head. Her vaginal walls swelled so fast that she ached inside. She felt her juices gather and trickle down her thighs.
Lance had no time to waste. He lowered his mouth to Valerie's lips.
She devoured him with all the frustration and impatience she'd built up over the last six months. She clawed his muck-encrusted white shirt, ripping it with her long nails.
The scream of cloth hung loudly in the still, moist air. None of them retained enough thought to realize that they were not the only beings in this London.
“Don't you fucking leave us again,” Valerie ordered Lance even as she dug her claws into John's back. “Or I'll drag you down to Hell with me when I turn to dust.”
Lance nodded wildly as he ground his cock against her ass. “I promise.”
John merely grunted and pulled her pants off, leaving her in her black woolen socks and sock garters. He teased his cock out of his pants and rammed that thick, smooth cock home in her pussy. Lance did some angel magic and his clothes were gone. His far-too-long-gone cock tempted her lips until she growled and slid down on him.
She hissed and screamed as they filled her.
“Fuck yeah, baby. Take it, girl.” John pinched her clit between two fingers and they were off.
They fucked her.
They fucked her, they fucked her, they fucked her until she realized that their arms were her home, her safety, everything she'd ever needed.
Lance leaned forward enough to press his lips to John's. The power of Valerie's orgasm forced the men from her body.
At that moment, she needed something even more than she needed sunlight. She whispered, “John, take him.”
Neither of them resisted her order. Lance arranged John until the human was looking into his eyes. With a deep groan, he wrapped the rescued man in feathers and lust.
Over the centuries, Valerie had seen many people kiss their beloved, entwining in perfect trust. Men, women—in the end, it didn't matter to her.
They kissed harder, bit and scratched and clawed each other as though they were trying to keep their long-lost lovers safe inside their hearts. They jacked each other as viciously as two lions tearing into a wildebeest.
Then she lost all thought as the men rolled to the ground. Somewhere in the night, her heart exploded in a shower of light and joy.
John's cock, not quite fully hard again, fitted Valerie's mouth completely. When he was erect, she couldn't fit him all the way. She wrapped her fist around the base of his penis.
She had unseemly large hands for a woman, but her fingers still did not meet, his girth was so great. Her jaw stretched to her outermost limit as she gobbled his smooth, hard cock.
She sucked on his head, licked his shaft, teased his balls with her fingers and tongue. His dark, thick body hair scraped as she brushed the tips of the curls with her tongue. He jumped and shivered. She flung her arm across his thighs and drew him deeply into her mouth, over and over.
“So he likes it just as rough as he gives it,” Lance observed.
“Mmm-hmm,” Valerie agreed around John's cock. The vibration made John shove.
“Enough,” he growled. Calling on his unusual strength, he flipped her over to her back. “Give me this.”
He shoved her thighs wide apart, his hands holding her down. He breathed on her pussy, long and deep, as if she were something exquisite to eat.
His sweet, sweet tongue descended to her body. Expecting a firm, direct stab to her clit, she squealed when he licked her with a flat, wide tongue. Over her labia, he petted her pussy, coaxing her lips to widen for him. Once she was moaning and writhing under him, he finally touched her clit.
Valerie's throat pulled tight. Her body curled in, her abdomen pulling her head off the ground. The sensations coiled in her hypersensitized organ. Tighter and tighter she squeezed, her face pulled in a nearly painful rictus. Could she make it? Would he take her there?
With a clever twist of his mouth, everything exploded. Her body uncoiled violently, her back arching. Her hands grasped Lance's. The angel sang in time with her screams as the unending crests overtook her.
Merciless, he sucked every drop from her pussy, every moan and cry inflamed him further until his cock skin nearly split.
She lay, panting and heaving, tears sparkling at the corners of her eyes. He put her legs on top of his shoulders. He knelt between her legs and fitted the head of his erection inside her swollen, twitching vagina. He pushed.
She screamed again.
He pumped inside her clinging walls. He licked her smooth legs as they rested against his neck. Her hands flew over his body, pinching his nipples. John kissed her calf.
Lance watched her slack face. Had Valerie ever looked so abandoned and relaxed?
“I want her on top,” John panted. He tucked his legs and tipped backward. Lance caught John and eased them both down until she was on top and riding him.
“Give me your cock,” she told Lance, her voice raspy from the exertion of sex.
Lance eagerly wiped the mud from his thighs and let her take him deep into her throat.
With a huge ripple, she came again and took them over the edge with her.
 
 
Hours later, Valerie and her men lay in a muddy ruin of come and discarded clothes. She could address the situation that literally lay between the three of them, demand they face the cold truth of what they were to each other. Or she could let them figure it out. They were smart. They could figure all this out without her.
No. They all went together, or they didn't go at all.
The baby stirred, stretching the boundaries of its small world.
“Boys. The baby is moving.”
Two pairs of eager hands reached for her squirming bump. She grasped a wrist in each of her own hands and placed their fingers where the unborn's feet were pressing. Then she laid her hand on top of theirs.
The men stopped breathing at the sensation of the child rolling.
Valerie spoke, breaking the silence. “All of us,” she said quietly. “This is what must be. Or we will fail.”
Lance ran his hand along the curve of Valerie's belly. “For the baby.”
“No. For us. All of us. Together, Lance. Nothing less can save our lives.” She gripped his wrist. “You will stay.”
“How can I stay when I know I will be the deaths of you?”
“Are a vampire and a Guide so easily killed?” John roused enough energy to lift his lip at Lance.
“Trust us,” Valerie said.
Lance sat up and opened his wings to their full breadth. As softly as a woman's tears, he wrapped them in the embrace of Heavenly love.
“Is this your true form?” Valerie asked Lance as she shoved someone's pants under her head.
“No. What angels truly are is hard to show to human eyes.”
John frowned. “I am not human either. When you earned your redemption and ascended back into Heaven, we beheld your angelic brethren. We will have nothing hidden between us again. Show us.”
“Very well.” Lance unfurled his wings from underneath him.
The outlines of his human body fuzzed out like a water-color painting under a faucet. He expanded and blurred until Valerie saw nothing but flaring gold light.
Unlike his black and white human aura, this light rippled with iridescent gleams of every color. Angels experienced emotions, she realized. Through every experience, compassion ruled. There was no action, no fear that was not understood. There was no sin that the Divine Realm could not face, no desperation that went unheard.
She wiped at the blood pouring down from her eyes. “Let's go home.”
“First things first.” Lance swiped those unbelievable golden feathers against John, then Valerie. The tips washed against her in a wave of pure pleasure.
Clean and dressed again, Lance twined his fingers with John. “I'll fly to Geneva and get the apartment ready,” Lance said. In her joy, Valerie could do nothing but smile. The baby inside wiggled in reaction to her near-giddy excitement.
The sky blackened. A spray of ice pellets splattered against their faces and pinged off the surface of the Shelby. The paint dimpled under the force of the attack of the weather.
Lance spread his wings, protecting them from the stinging shot.
A horrible, viperlike green slithered through the sky, seeking a weakness.

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