New Blood (The Blood Saga Book 2) (3 page)

Rolling onto his side his eyes
never left mine. “Come with me.” Pulling me with him, Damien stood.

Leading me in the direction of the
large open bathroom off the bedroom, he walked with me. It was the most elaborate
bathroom I had ever seen. A giant hot tub was off in the corner. Solid gleaming
black marble of course and large enough for maybe ten people. It wasn’t
impressive, it was ridiculous. Jezabell really was over the top.

Deep hand carved elegant black
marble sinks had dolphins carved into the bowl as if they were swimming. A
mirror the size of a rather large wall framed an even more elaborate vanity,
carved entirely from solid black marble. There wasn’t a personal object in
site.

It was there that I stopped dead in
my tracks. Following my gaze sighed, slowly pushing me closer. “You should see yourself,
Anna. It’s healthy for you.”

Step two in the
How To Be A
Vampire
handbook, accept you’ve changed in every way possible.

The reflection was shocking. While
in Vermont, I hadn’t thought to look in the mirror. Of course I knew I was
different. But with all of the things going on, I hadn’t exactly paid attention
to what I looked like. I’d been too busy playing with the shower steam.

Pure silver eyes radiated. Skin
like ivory. No marks, scars, blemishes or a single freckle. I didn’t even have
any pores. Hair gleamed like every metallic shade of brown, made from pure
silk. She looked like the statue of a Goddess. Instinctively my hand reached
out to touch her. I must have moved too quickly. The glass fractured at my
touch. Before I could apologize, his fingers brushed my lips to stop me.

“Yes, you’re beautiful. Not more
than you were before, just different... Immortally beautiful,” Damien spoke
slowly and precisely with careful emphasis on each word. He shrugged as if
either way it didn’t matter. “Your beauty has stunned me from the moment I
first met you. I’ve told you before, nothing could change that. Not bruises.
Not scars. Not even immortality. You’re as perfect now as I found you then.
Just different is all.”

My fingers brushed my lips in
silent question. They were such a dark crimson. Mouth opened slowly, my lips
curled back. The feral grin starring back reflected four glistening white
fangs, longer than I’d thought possible.

“From now on when you’re hungry or
showing extreme emotion, your physical features will reflect those emotions.
Your lips will darken. Your eyes will radiate brilliant colors if you become
upset until you learn to control it. Otherwise, they’ll be as silver as they are
now.

“Eventually you’ll be able to
control your emotions enough so that you’ll look quite human. Well, to their
eyes anyway. Any supernatural will be able to spot you even in a sea of people,
much like a beacon of light within the dark. Humans see what they want to see.
They rarely ever notice how different we are from them.”

“I noticed you…” I’m not sure why I
said it, but it was the truth. I remembered crowded nights in the restaurant
and never having trouble spotting him in the first second.

“You were nothing like them.” Fingertips
slowly rubbed along my cool flesh. Despite our body temperatures, it felt as if
he drug embers over my skin. Painstakingly slow, he pulled the tank top up. My
arms rose as the olive green tank was pulled off of me, leaving me in the black
bra and blue denim clad hips.

Damien’s fingers delicately traced
down my stomach to the waist band of my jeans. While never taking his gaze off
the reflection of my eyes in the mirror, he stripped me down.

Kissing along my shoulder and arm
his fingers carefully unsnapped the bra clasp in back. Trimmed nails clawed against
my flesh, dragging one strap down my arm until it fell to the floor.

As soft as a feather from behind
me, his touch traced my skin until one hand flicked against the button of my
jeans, guiding the zipper down.

My spine was tingling. Touching
against my thighs, he drug the denim down my legs until they were bare to him. His
hands took both of my own as I stepped out from the confines of the snug fit
blue jeans.

He stayed with me. Hands roaming my
bare flesh, his thumb slid along my hip into the strap of the thong as he
turned me to face him. In a second it was at my ankles.

For as fast as the immortal before
me was, every movement every moment, he drug out, moving slow and deliberate. Some
things in life should not be done quickly. Dropping to his knees before me, his
chin lift up so that he could look into my eyes as I looked down upon him.
Kissing at the sides of my knees, up my hip, and over my stomach as his fingers
traced the rose tattoo at my side. One kiss at a time his lips covered my body.

The rose was darker now, like wet
ink. The thorns of the vines looked real enough to make you bleed. Each petal
of the two black roses seemed almost real to the eye. The black Dragonflies
looked alive as the wings glistened. Amazing it remained when so many scars did
not.

Standing slowly, his mouth traveled
up my body taunting me. With one hand, Damien tugged off his shirt, tossing it
away.

Those nimble fingers dropped down
to the button of his jeans. Before he could react, I reached out and stopped
him. Taking my time, I pulled the button free followed by the zipper, letting
them drop to the floor. That’s all he had been wearing. Rough and fast, he
pushed me backward until my back found the wall in the shower.

One hand reached away from me, and
blindly pushed a large silver button on the wall that started the downpour of
burning water from above.

Delicate as petals, his fingers
drug my flesh torturing me in ways I had never known before. “I need you,”
whispered between softly dragging kisses from my shoulder to my ear. “I want
you.” Hands drug my stomach, tracing my tattoo precisely while tickling my side
teasingly. The other rubbed over my hips, squeezing firmly, sliding lower,
pushing between my legs to make me gasp. Lips kissed from one shoulder across
my throat to the other. Fangs slid against my flesh as his tongue flicked
tauntingly to catch the blood, not missing a single drop. A quaking moan
trembled out from my lips. The sting wasn’t pain- it was a promise.

Damien pulled back just enough to
stare into my eyes as if he sought my soul. Sliding up his arms squeezing his
broad shoulders firmly, my arms wrapped around his neck.

Fingers drug across my flesh until
his hand rose to hold against my cheek. A battle raged between our lips, all
but devouring one another. One leg came up to wrap around his bare hips. Holding
me in place, he grabbed hold of my thigh, squeezing as if he meant to crush me.

Suddenly, both hands took hold of
my hips in a devastating grip, lifting me up. My body pressed flush against
his, both my legs wrapped around him.

With one hand, he easily held me up
as the other rose to the back of my neck, urging me to look at him. “I love you,
Lianna.” As he spoke Damien brought me down against him. Though I tried, I
could not speak.

As his eyes clinched shut, his
forehead pressed to mine. A groan so deep it turned to a deep reverberating
growl before his fangs found my throat.

Relentlessly we ravaged one another.
We clawed. Bit. Caressed, and tangled together under the water raining down on
us so hot it filled the room with a thick steam.

Our bodies shuddered violently. Beneath
my touch his muscles tightened like taught cables. Throughout this never ending
ecstasy his hands dug into my flesh, squeezing hard enough I realized briefly
that as a human I would not have survived this. Frighteningly, I found this
knowledge more arousing.

As time escaped us we melted onto
the floor together, still completely entangled. Damien whispered against my
flesh between kisses, “I never dreamed I would find you.” Our gazes caught.
Silence lingered as we stared, hypnotized.

Then the switch. The moment of
bliss was passing. His eyes grew grave and serious, though at least they’d
gotten their color back. Peridot green gems staring back at me. “I will love
you for the rest of my eternity. No matter what ever happens, please, never
forget how deeply I mean that.” He did not say this with happiness.

My eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong,
Damien?”

“Nothing.” He smiled, but it was
weak. My gaze remained scrutinizing. My lie detector radar was pinging off my
id. Knowing this he took in a deep breath and sighed. “Lara, she...” he trailed
off.

It wasn’t a far reach. “She had a
vision.” He nodded, closing his eyes briefly. “Won’t you tell me?” My hand held
to his cheek as the other ran circles along the back of his neck.

Vehemently he shook his head. “No.
It was a glimpse. Just one possibility that was in itself impossible really.”
For a long moment he was silent, not looking at me or anything really.

Both my hands held to his face as I
looked into his green eyes. So deep. So brilliant. “Of course it’s not. I hope
you don’t doubt that.” Never in my life had I ever meant anything more.

Shaking his head, a slight crooked
smile on his lips. “I don’t.” His lips pressed to mine soft at first. But I
deepened that kiss. A kiss to build a dream on as he carried me straight to the
bed.

Hours had passed as we lay tangled
together again in bliss. “I am undoubtedly the luckiest man in the world.” His
energy had definitely returned, and the dark mood from before had long since
passed.

Playfully I hit him. “Don’t.” I shook
my head, but smiled lightly. I laughed, only a little bitter.

“I mean it.” His hand held under my
chin. “You don’t even fathom.” His eyes were unreadable. Not even a faint smile
tugged his lips.

His mouth pressed against my hair
as he murmured begrudgingly, “We should get dressed, I suppose. You need to
feed. I took a little more than I should have. You must be hungry.”

“Don’t lie, Damien. I’m always
hungry now.” He couldn’t help but laugh. Kissing my forehead, he pulled me
against him, rolling out of bed with me in his arms.

Opening the closet door, he pushed
me along inside. My jaw dropped as I looked around. Not quite bigger than the
loft, but nearly.
Damn.

“I hope you don’t mind. Jez and
Lara took the liberty of obtaining you a new wardrobe since they can’t take you
with them to go shopping. Yet.”

“Yet? I don’t like
yet
,
Damien. And I have my bag in the Jeep,” my voice tried to come out menacing but
it weakened to begrudging.

He laughed giving a careless shrug
as we stood there, bare body against body. “All right. You try to tell Jezabell
no. See how that works out for you. Let me know, okay?” Kissing my cheek, he laughed
more. “Of course that is after you get some better control over yourself. Then
well, then I am sorry, my love, you are at their mercy.”

“We’ll see about that.” Laughing,
he grinned wryly. It was good to see him in such a better mood, and looking
stronger than ever.

Groaning, I pushed him away with a
laugh of my own as I began to look through the wardrobe that already easily
tripled (or more) my old one. Most of the clothes were so ornate I couldn’t
even imagine ever wearing anything like them. I wondered if they would be very
offended if I went down for my bag.

“You think this is bad then you
should see Jezabell’s closet. It’s the size of my room- our room rather. She has
a strange affliction for wearing wedding dresses.”
Wow
. “There’s some
things you should like towards the back. I made sure Lara took care of that for
you. Jez is the flamboyant one of the two.” Sadly, he went on to get dressed.

Grumbling, “When?” I went to the
back as he directed to pick out a shirt. Though it was made of pure Egyptian
cotton, I found a tank top was pretty much my style.

Since when do clothes have thread
counts?
My eyes rolled. The cut was simple enough. Black
with a square neck, long on the lips and covered in a webby delicate lace that
I thought might have been made from silk. The Italian label confirmed it. It
felt like a custom fit. The straps weren’t sizable like most. It clung to my
figure just perfectly. Of course, that figure had toned out a lot in the last few
days.

Next, I pulled out a pair of boy
cut underwear made of lace. Every single pair was either lace or silk I noticed
with a roll of my eyes. Oh, wrong. A few were leather. I cringed. What’s wrong
with cotton?

Finding a pair of jeans, another
designer French label, I pulled them on uncertainly. They were a dark midnight
blue. Not a bit faded or torn up like my old ones.

Oh no, I hadn’t bought them that
way. Why bother? I managed that through wear and tear. These, too, were a
perfect fit though. It was just a bit strange and nearly creepy that they knew
my exact size in everything.

Checking the mirror, I looked over
to Damien. He wore dark blue jeans, a black tee shirt. Once more,
Damn
.

It was a long time before he
answered my question. “Soon as I realized you weren’t... When I knew you were
going to turn, I called Jezabell. Once your body finally began to heal, I knew
you would survive the change.” As he turned to me, I saw his mouth was a hard
line. His brow furrowed deeply by the memory.