In the Blood (16 page)

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Authors: Abigail Barnette

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Erotica, #Paranormal

BOOK: In the Blood
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He hurried from his room, worries about his appearance forgotten. When he reached the living room, she stood at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide and red from crying, her hair tousled over the shoulders of her leather jacket. Torn between wanting to run to her and wariness that she might flee him, he chose to stand where he was, the space between them like miles. “I thought you did not wish to see me again.”

“I wasn’t given much of a choice.” She hurried down the stairs, looking around as though something evil might spring out at her. “Your new assistant. She’s a member of the Conclave.”

The strange feeling that perhaps he’d missed a page or two in the story crept up on him. “Pardon me?”

“Look, I know you don’t want me here. But she came to see me. She told me to spend whatever money you were willing to give me, because they were going to kill you in two days. ‘Neutralize’ was the word she used. Because she said you were going to become a Minion, because I left, and I…I couldn’t do that to you!” A sob racked her entire body, and she looked like she would crumple in on herself with her tears. “Tell me to go, send me away, I don’t care, I’m not going anywhere! I can’t let that happen to you!”

He did go to her then, and she fell into his arms as easily as though they had never been apart. Not for a week, not for a lifetime. “I sent you away because I saw the look on your face when you realized I was still a vampire. I could not be so selfish as to keep you when I was not what you wanted.”

Her arms tightened around him, and it killed him to pry her away, but he had to. “My death is inevitable, as anyone’s is. If my choice is to die or become a Minion, I choose death.”

She took a deep breath. “Please, don’t think I’m crazy. Because it’s going to sound crazy. Very, very crazy.”

He took her hands. They seemed almost as cold as his. “Cassandra, you believed I was a vampire. You believed about Minions, and you sought out a psychic to find out about your past life. I owe it to you to take what you tell me at face value.”

“I’m the reason you changed back.” She went on in a rush, explaining the Conclave believed she had prevented his transformation into Minion. “I thought that if I came here, if I got you to listen to me… We don’t have to be what we were before. Maybe if I just stayed close. I don’t want to lose you, Viktor. I know you’ve made your decision, but you said before that Melina was stubborn. She argued. Well, not a lot has changed. I’m stubborn, and I’m not going to leave here if I know you’re going to die.”

“I knew it was you,” he said, squeezing her hands. “For decades, it was your memory. And then when I met you…
this
you, I must have somehow overlooked your effect on me. But I saw your disappointment, Cassandra, when you asked if I was still a vampire. You owe me nothing. You do not have to stay here.”

“Of course I have to stay. I couldn’t save you before. And I can’t go back in time and save Emily.” She stopped, squeezing her eyes shut in frustration. “That makes it sound like I’m using you to atone for something.”

“A penance no one deserves,” he said with a humorless laugh.

She looked up with tears in her eyes. “I deserve you.”

The earnestness in her words drove away the final resistance in him. He’d fought for her—no, they had fought for each other—but there was no reason to continue fighting, especially not such a powerful foe as his love for her. He withdrew the wedding ring from the collar of his shirt. With a tug, he snapped the chain. “Cassandra, be my wife, for the second time.”

She laughed. “We’ve known each other for a few days.”

“A few days and the nine years we were married,” he pointed out, his hope turning to dread in his chest. Was this too much, too soon?

Chewing her lip, she kept her gaze fixed on the ring between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re going to live for hundreds of years. I’m not.”

He reached out with his other hand and lifted her chin so that she faced him. “Do you love me?”

Her lips compressed as though she tried to hold back tears. Nodding first, she followed it with a whispered, “Yes. I do love you.”

“And I love you.” He took her hand, and she didn’t resist him as he slipped the ring onto her finger. “The rest we will work on.”

She laughed at that and let him help her to her feet. Once they stood, he swept her up in his arms and kissed her, the way he’d ached to kiss her all the interminable days they’d been apart.

She leaned back and gasped, and he looked to the mirror, where his reflection once again appeared. His skin was less pale, his hair the familiar chestnut brown of his youth.

“That’s going to take some getting used to,” she breathed, reaching up to touch it. “So, now what?”

“Now,” a voice said behind them, making Cassandra jump in his arms, “I report back to the Conclave and inform them our efforts are better spent elsewhere.”

Despite the words Stephanie had spoken, Cassandra whirled to face her and shielded Viktor with her body. “Get out!”

“I will.” Stephanie lifted her chin. “I see that Mr. Novotny’s humanity is no longer in danger, and therefore I’m no longer needed. For now.”

“For now?” he repeated, wrapping his arms around Cassandra’s shoulders.

Stephanie’s smile was a warning. “We’ll monitor your situation. If things change in the future—”

“Get out,” Cassandra whispered, and the woman nodded, heading to the stairs.

They watched her go. Viktor considered going to the security cameras in Anthony’s office to make sure she really had exited the building. Cassandra was shaken, though, and needed his attention. “Are you all right?”

“They’re going to monitor us? Does that mean they can just come back and kill you, whenever they want?”

He pressed his lips to her temple. “They won’t need to. I love you. I’m not going to let you go again. Even if my humanity didn’t depend on you, I would want you here, with me.”

“If you trust the Conclave, I guess I have to too.” She turned in his arms, still uncertain, it seemed, from the way she chewed her lip. “But you didn’t answer my question from before.”

He frowned, searching his memory for some unresolved trouble between them. “What question?”

“What now?”

“Now?” He pretended to consider. It gave him a moment to enjoy the sight of her, his Cassandra, his Melina, finally able to smile up at him, free from the horrors of the past for the first time in nearly a century. “I think now we should spend the whole night making love. And in the morning, I would like to watch the sunrise with you. On the terrace.”

“I haven’t been cured of my fear of heights, you know,” she reminded him.

He kissed her cheek, then her jaw, then nibbled her ear until she laughed and playfully pushed him back. “I know you haven’t. But I’ll be there. If you fall, I’ll catch you.”

“Do you promise?” She looked into his eyes, searching for something in his words that was far more than reassurance about physical height.


Navždy
, Melina,” he whispered, claiming her lips once more. “Forever, Cassandra.”

About the Author

The alter-ego of USA Today Bestselling Author
Jennifer Armintrout
, Abigail Barnette was born during a conversation with author
Bronwyn Green
, who encouraged Jennifer to develop an elaborate fantasy persona—complete with nom de plume—under which to pen erotic romance. Abigail enjoys long naps in fairy-filled glades, running through corridors in tragically romantic haunted castles, and drinking goblet after goblet of spiced wine.

To learn more about Abigail Barnette, please visit
www.abigailbarnette.com
, or visit her blog at
www.abigailbarnette.blogspot.com
.

Look for these titles by Abigail Barnette

Now Available:

Ravenous

One man claims her by day, another by night. Together they lay claim to her heart.

Ravenous

© 2010 Abigail Barnette

Annabelle Whittington sails toward Jamaica, and marriage to a wealthy plantation owner, on winds of hope. Hope that she hasn’t saved her virginity only to be doomed to proper English wifehood, never to fully satisfy her sexual curiosity. Then the sails of the pirate ship
Howling Hades
appear on the horizon.

Captain Galerius’ demands are simple: in exchange for her blood to slake his eternal thirst, and her body to quell his voracious lust, he will guarantee safe passage. Except his motives are less than pure. In his hold is another prisoner, Ian Drummond, who must soon be replaced…with Annabelle.

But Ian has plans of his own, and they don’t include giving up his lover so easily. And, once he gets a taste of Annabelle’s sweet blend of innocence and boldness, he can’t imagine living without either one of them.

Annabelle, sensing the tortured soul beneath the monster, refuses to let Galerius intimidate her—and finds an unexpected ally in the infuriating, maddening Ian. As danger threatens the
Hades
, she is faced with a choice. Return to her life of duty, or embrace her spirit of adventure…and sail the high seas with the men who have captured her heart.

Warning: Avast! Here be hot vampire pirate lovin’ that won’t be coming to a theater near you any time soon; a comely wench who be givin’ “boring” the old heave-ho. Cool rum drink recommended.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Ravenous:

Annabelle gasped as Galerius’s mouth covered hers. She pressed her fists against his chest, determined to push him away, willing herself to with every second that passed, but the will of her morals lost out to the will of her body.

His lips were shockingly cold, and his tongue tasted of wine. Her hands moved from fists to claws as she gripped his shoulders. For a moment, she thought of the fiancé she had not met, the only man who had a right to do this to her, and she felt a stab of guilt. But she did not know him, and she did not know if she was safe at the hands of this pirate, and—

Yes, that was it! Surely it was not her sinful curiosity that drove her to press harder against Galerius, not the feverish fantasies she indulged in night after night. She did this to protect herself, and to save her life!

She couldn’t really believe that, could she?

No.

She pushed back, caught him unawares so that he released her. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t—”

“I saw into your mind, Annabelle.” He stalked forward, pulling the robe from his shoulders. “I know what you dream of doing with a man.”

He could not possibly… She shook her head. “I think of no such thing.”

“Oh, but you do.” He took her hand and lifted her wrist to his mouth, flicking his tongue over the pulse that leaped there. “And I promise you, there is so much more than what you’ve imagined.”

When she opened her mouth to protest, all that came out was a whimper.

Galerius released her arm and stepped back, finger to his lips as though having an epiphany. “Perhaps I am driving too hard a bargain. How about this, then? The next time we are to sail across the sea, I will make it my personal mission to find your betrothed and deliver you safely to him. Do you find that fair?”

It was too easy, and very suspicious. “Do you often travel across the sea?”

“Of course. We are pirates, after all.”

“Fine, then.” Her answer was too easy, and very suspicious as well, but she refused to dwell on it. Still, he had not made a move toward her. “I agree. Proceed.”

He chuckled, and a hot blush crept up her face. “It would be easier if you took off your gown.”

“Oh.” She felt foolish and suddenly not as eager to continue with what they had begun. She had supposed she would be naked, but she had imagined it would happen in the heat of passion, as if by magic, so she would not have time to think about it. To remove her clothing now, while he watched her, would be embarrassing and…

Impossible, she realized. On the boat, Mrs. Grimble had helped her with her stays when she dressed and undressed, and the woman tied such ridiculous little knots. “I can’t,” she said quietly, relief and disappointment mixing in her voice. “I suppose that’s—”

Before she could finish, he dropped to his knees in front of her and pulled her gown open, flinging pins across the room and ripping her stomacher. Annabelle gasped. She would not deny she had imagined having her clothes torn off in a moment of passion, but in practice it was a bit unnerving. More so when he reached for a knife on the table and pointed it to her midsection. She yelped and jumped back, and he growled, “Be quiet, I won’t hurt you.” A horrible tearing sound alerted her to the demise of the ribbons cinching her corset, and at once she stood in the short shift and drawers beneath. The gasp she uttered then was one of relief, not anticipation.

A smile curved his mouth, and he tossed the blade aside. “In my day, women did not wear such ridiculous undergarments.”

“And I shan’t, now,” Annabelle said, but she could not inject appropriate dismay knowing the vile garment was destroyed. “I suppose I will have to make do until we reach Jamaica.”

“If we reach Jamaica,” he corrected her. “And I don’t want to hear any more talk of it. While you are in my company, you are to think of me, not some far-off man whom you have never met.” He advanced on her, backed her up to the edge of the bunk. “And when you return to him, I guarantee you will still be thinking of me.”

Her knees turned to water and she collapsed, chest constricting with a mixture of fear and excitement. Her nipples grew tight beneath her shift, the dark pink of them showing prominently against the sheer muslin of the garment. With one hand at the small of her back, he stroked the side of one breast. Her breath hitched, and she knew then why he supported her so. Without his arm strong around her back, she would collapse from sheer delight. His smile was almost a smirk as he lowered his mouth, maddeningly slowly. “My, but you are innocent.”

“I’m not—” she began to protest, but his lips closed over the peak of one breast through the fabric, and her back arched like a drawn bow. Never had she felt such intense sensation. She had not been able to imagine what this would be like, not properly; she understood that now. The shivers of apprehension and arousal raced toward her most secret place, the part of her she had stroked beneath the covers while indulging in her most naughty fantasies. All from the touch of his mouth. What would happen when— No, she would not think of that. Her skin grew hot just imagining it.

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