Her Vampire Husband (20 page)

C
REED DROPPED
H
OUSEKEEPER
at her apartment in the city. She was still under his persuasion and would wake in a few hours with only a distant memory of a short gig for an eccentric man out in the country who made major messes. He left a generous cash severance on the kitchen counter, then headed home.

Tucking his sunglasses in a front pocket, he followed the thumping beat of music down the hall. The theater-room doors were open, and he saw Blu’s feet bob to the tune. She turned her head before he gained her side, smiling up at him. She wore red lace this time, to match the red wig.

Mercy.

He twisted the chair—the aisle seats were rotating rockers—and she clasped her legs about his neck as he squatted before her. Her red spike heels clicked behind his head.

“Adam Ant?” he asked of the music he’d never admit to liking in the eighties.

“‘Desperate,’” she sang, and tickled her fingers through his hair, “‘but not serious.’”

“Desperate for a little of this?” He nudged her barely there panties aside with his nose. Dashing out his tongue, he speared her wetness. The taste of her hardened his erection instantly.

“Mmm, you’ll make me howl,” she teased.

“I love to make the wolf howl.”

Tearing away the insignificant bit of lace, Creed ventured deeper; his prize, the wolf’s sexy howl of encouragement. She spread out her legs, and he ran his palms along them, worshipful in his pose.

It would be another month before he could dally with the werewolf who preferred him scratched and bleeding before having sex. He looked forward to that adventure again.

But even with her claws sheathed, Blu filled his thoughts, his senses, his desires. Not in nine hundred years had he met his match.

The wait had been worth it.

Fingernails dug into his hair and scalp and she tugged as climax fluttered panting whimpers from her lips. He loved when she came softly like that. His fangs were already down. He’d not noticed that.

He should have come to expect it by now. He would be careful with his teeth not to cut her.

Hours later, Creed sprawled on a cozy leather theater chair, one foot propped on the seat before him, the other leg stretched in the aisle. Blu sat on him, her stomach and breasts crushed to his bare chest, her cheek nuzzled against his neck, quiet in her satiation.

His cock was still inside her. This was the place he’d never found over the centuries. A place of comfort. Equality. Acceptance. And now here he sat. Blissfully satisfied.

The red wig was tilted on her head. He gave it a tug, and she reacted.

“What?” She lifted her head. “Oh, I think I dozed off a bit. Mmm, lover, you make me come so much, I have to take naps to recover. Maybe you could float me upstairs to the bed for a while?”

“Float you?”

She lifted her head and kissed him. Brilliant eyes danced with his. “Like you did last night. You moved me. With wind or air, or something. It’s your magic, right?”

“I have air magic, yes. Also earth, water and blood magic. You promised you weren’t going to tell.”

“And you said you were not going to use it.”

“Yes, it is the one vow I find I cannot keep. And it’s stupid, really, the minute things I use it for. The witches
fear I would use it to control people or have the advantage in a battle against them. That was why I took the vow. Also to atone.”

“Tell me about it, Creed. It’s a part of you I still haven’t learned. Did you steal your magic from a witch?”

This was a conversation he’d never purposefully bring up, but he could not deny her the truth of him. It wouldn’t be fair after all they’d been through. She’d opened up to him. He could spill a secret and know she would not judge him for it.

“I did. Long before the Protection spell was cast.”

She nodded and laid her head on his shoulder. Red hair plushed across his cheek. Her tongue dashed out to lick his chin before she said, “I know a little about the war between the vamps and witches.”

“It ended decades ago.”

“Right. But you were there for the beginning. Something like a thousand years ago?”

“Eight or nine hundred years.”

“So you kept the witch enslaved to drain her of her magic?”

“That’s how it worked.”

“Tell me.”

“Very well.” He hugged her head aside his chest and tangled his fingers in the glossy wig. “After the Capetians’ rule ended and the House of Valois began to
reign in France, I left the vanguard. Well, I hadn’t much choice. I’d been changed to vampire against my will. And while much war is fought during the night, I simply could not function as a soldier in the king’s army, you understand.”

“Lucky for you.”

“Not really. I enjoyed battle.” Still did. But not so much when Blu was lying in his arms. He snuggled her close, feeding on her delicious warmth.

“I resisted joining the tribe that changed me, even though at the time, the tribes were almost as war-hungry as the mortals. I used the excuse I wanted to learn things on my own, to go out and experience the world. The tribe ousted me, which suited me fine. I had grander plans. I would gain magic and become a force to be reckoned with.”

It was uncomfortable to confess to his past indiscretions, but Creed wanted her to know the darkness that still resided within him. He owed her that much after all she and her werewolf had revealed to him last night.

“I stole air magic from a witch who I seduced. Told her I loved her, but really, I was focused on obtaining her magic. For a vampire to steal magic from a witch he has to have sex with her. It’s a blood sex magic thing.”

“Sounds sexy.”

“It was calculated.”

She wiggled upon him, and his cock enlivened within her. “I like that you’re so honest with me. I find that sexy.”

That comment bolstered him and his growing erection.

Creed continued. “The witch can grow very weak, I learned, and literally becomes enslaved to my bite and my selfish need to draw out her magic. When I saw she was becoming too weak, and felt I’d drawn enough magic from her, I abandoned her. On to the next witch. I was determined to gain all the elemental magics.”

“Air, earth, fire and water?”

“Yes. Earth was next. I remember that I had some feelings for that witch beyond the desire to steal what I could from her. When she was close to death, I couldn’t bear it, so I stopped having sex with her. But she insisted, saying she would rather die making love to me than be burned at the stake.”

“You must have been quite the macabre Casanova.”

“Must have been?”

She smiled against his chest and rocked her hips slightly.

“I obliged her, and she did die. She’d requested I burn her body and return her ashes to the earth, from which her magic had originated. Using air magic, I spread her ashes through the sky and then settled them upon a lavender field.”

“That sounds pretty.”

The depth of his depravity wasn’t quite permeating her brain.

“But I would have so kicked your ass if it had been me,” she added. “Those poor women.”

So maybe she did understand what an asshole he’d been.

“Yes, well, the water witch nearly succeeded in doing just as you desire. I rescued her from a dunking chair. It’s strange, in medieval times they used to dunk supposed witches in water. If they drowned, they were innocent—but then also dead. If they did not drown, they were accused as witches—and then killed. Dead either way. It made little sense. And honestly, no talented witch would have ever got caught in such a predicament. Except Celia.”

“Was she not so powerful?”

“She was the most powerful witch I have known. Yet her downfall was her heart, as it is for all of us.” He kissed the crown of Blu’s head. “She fell in love with a witch hunter, and found herself bound to a dunking chair. I rescued her, and…”

He thought back to that escapade. Celia was so angry after he’d rescued her she was literally spitting water. She fought him so much he’d had to rebind her wrists and carry her over his shoulder to his home. Once there, he’d fed her, asked her nicely for her magic, and when she refused, well…

“The seduction was short, abrupt, and she did eventually agree, but I think I was a rebound guy, to use today’s terms.”

Blu shifted against him, working her hips lazily. It was growing more difficult to concentrate on his tale as his mind threatened to play mutiny and let the cock do all the thinking, but he continued.

“I took what I could from her, but she fought me tooth and nail. And I learned one must never get too close to large bodies of water when in the presence of a water witch. She nearly drowned me in the Seine. Fortunately, vamps don’t drown easily. I gave up after she pinned me to the bottom of a full well for a fortnight. I have just enough water magic now to be a menace.”

“What about fire?”

“Never found a fire witch. They are rare. Fire is the one thing that can kill a witch, so you don’t often find practitioners in that element. Though, they are out there. After Celia the Protection was put into place. She was one of the original spell casters.”

“I’ve heard about the Protection, but never met someone directly affected by it. So the spell made all witches’ blood poisonous to vampires?”

“Yes. One bite, and the vampire is ash. It’s not an easy thing to witness. And I have a few times. Should a vampire survive a witch’s blood attack, he becomes a phoenix. There is a Council member who is a phoenix.”

“Yes, Nikolaus Drake. I’ve heard of him. But you are immune?”

“Only because I’ve witches’ blood from before the Protection in me.” He tapped the ring on her finger. “Still, I don’t trust that.”

“I won’t wear it anymore. Promise.” She took it off and tossed it across the aisle to land against the iron base of a chair. “You’ve changed a lot, Creed.”

He traced a thumb along her satin-smooth back. “I have always taken what I wanted. I’m not sure I can change that.”

“You have changed. I mean, look at you, sleeping with a werewolf!”

“Yes, well, I suppose.”

“But once, you enslaved someone not like you for your own benefit. Kind of like how the wolves enslave the vampires for blood sport. I’m not trying to compare them. Maybe I am. I know you’re different now, and couldn’t imagine you bringing harm to anyone who didn’t deserve it. But I can’t help but wonder what those witches experienced as you drained the magic from them.”

“Blu, so many centuries ago I was a man who took what I wanted, when I wanted, from whomever I wanted. I won’t apologize for what I did. Hell, I had a chip on my shoulder after being changed to a vampire against my
will. They were impressed with my werewolf-killing skills and wanted me on their side. But so you know, I haven’t stolen anything from a witch in centuries.”

“What does that do to your magic?”

“It certainly doesn’t help matters. I can feel it wane each time I use it. I believe I’ve one good wallop left in me before it is completely depleted.”

“So you need to have sex with a witch to keep it strong?”

“Yes. But there’s not a witch who would offer, I’m sure of that. I can survive without magic. It doesn’t serve me beyond enhancing my daily life. It comes in handy during battle. But as I’ve said, I strive not to use it as a means to show the witches I am no longer a threat.”

“Yes, but what if you were desperate? If magic was the only thing that could help you out of a situation? Would you sleep with a witch again?”

“I would not have another woman now, because that would be cheating on my wife.”

“You really mean that.”

He stroked the hair from her face. Her skin was softer than silk. The finest luxury he’d ever experienced. “I am yours, Blu. Faithfully. Can you accept the things I’ve done to survive? That was me then. This is me now.”

She toyed her forefinger across his chest. The beat of her heart matched his, relaxed and heavy. If he were to
drink her blood, then her heartbeat would synch with his and he could track her anywhere in the city. They would always have a means to find the other.

He could wait. But if she balked at accepting him now it would destroy him. But he must acknowledge any reluctance she may have.

“I can more than accept you,” she whispered. Tilting her head, she kissed him under the chin. “I love you, Creed Saint-Pierre, and I’m proud to be your wife.”

She pressed up, her palms to his chest, and began to rock upon his hips.

T
HEY STOOD AMIDST THE
carnage, having ransacked the closet for a few items of clothing that hadn’t been torn or shredded the night before. Blu had found an old frock coat of Creed’s from the eighteenth century and it hung on her shoulders now, the heavy damask engulfing her.

The chair stuck in the wall had slowly worked its way forward, till it let go from the drywall and tumbled across the mattress.

It felt good to laugh. Blu shook her head and slapped a palm on the skewed box spring mattress. “I hope that chair wasn’t an antique.”

“Vintage seventeenth century. Once held position in the queen’s apartments at Versailles.”

“My bad?”

“Very naughty,” he said, and followed with a blown kiss.

He accepted her as she was—all wild and wicked.

And she accepted him. He’d led an unsavory past as a battle warrior, bounty hunter and witch enslaver, to name a few. But as he’d explained, he was a different man now than he had been then.

Everyone changed.

Blu felt the changes within herself since she’d married Creed. She was calmer now, not so skittish around men, and the need to put on a costume and act aloof was no longer there.

Okay, so costumes were sort of her thing. And what a delicious find in the old steamer trunk at the back of Creed’s closet.

She tugged the coat about her, delighting in the patterned damask fabric. Wide cuffs, softened with age, spilled past her hands. The buttons were real diamonds, and though the lace was frayed, she could easily imagine Creed seducing a poufy-skirted demoiselle into his arms.

“Here.” He tossed her something and she caught it with both hands. “I don’t want it—it’s yours. Use it as you wish.”