Shadow of the Vampire (3 page)

         
"Or what?"

         
"Or--" She looked around, nodding to the needle and thread beside her. "I won't stitch up your wounds. Unless, of course, you'd rather bleed out in this dungeon."

         
A black brow arched. "If I'm in a dungeon, why bother healing me at all?"

         
"Would you rather die?"

         
His lips kicked up. "Do you always answer a question with a question, little vampire?"

         
Alexia shook her head, and tried to ignore that sinfully sexy curve of his mouth. "No."

         
"Then answer me."

         
She sighed. "We cannot torture you in the state you're in. You'd never last through questioning."

         
At her words, flames flickered behind his icy eyes. Soft tufts of smoke wafted out of his nostrils.

         
Dragonfire.

         
Her eyes widened, panic gripping her like a spiked glove to the throat.

         
"Don't tell me you're frightened of me now?" His thumb began to draw lazy circles over the pounding pulse in her wrist.

         
"I'm not frightened of you," she said, the words coming out in a breathy sigh.

         
His wing coiled tighter, crushing her breasts against the warm steel of his barrel chest.

         
"Then why are you trembling?" He dipped his head below hers. "I can hear your heart hammering. Right here." His hot, open mouth covered the pulse beating beneath her skin.

         
A tingle of pleasure shimmied along her spine. She sucked in a breath and held it as his soft lips caressed her neck. Alexia knew she should be fighting him. Knew she should beg for death by his hell-sent flame rather than allow him such liberties. But the excitement and fear of being handled so gently paralyzed her. Never had a man touched her so softly, held her so tenderly. When his lips hummed against her skin, her eyes fluttered and a little sound purred out of her throat.

         
His lips curved against her neck and then a low chuckle rumbled in his chest.

         
Was he laughing?

         
Heat flooded her face as anger surged, taking over her misplaced desire. Eyeing the vein throbbing in his neck, she focused on the steady rhythm of his pulse. A red haze flooded her vision. Two teeth stretched past her lips. Although feeding was forbidden between vampires, no such laws prevented taking the blood of an enemy. Opening her mouth, she snapped for his throat.

         
He dodged her attack and then leaned more of his delicious weight atop her, restricting her movements. "Easy, little one. Your teeth don't frighten me."

         
"No?" She lunged for him and, maddeningly, he diverted her again. Only this time when he parted his lips in a smile, fangs twice the size of hers hung from his mouth.

         
Her dead heart flipped over on itself.

         
"You're--" she stammered.

         
"Hungry. And you look tasty."

         
His dark head swooped.

         
Fear had her grabbing his arms, trying to push him off. No man, not even Lotharus, dared drink her blood. It meant instant death in their world. Then again, what would a dragon lord care of the horde's laws?

         
All thoughts melted away as his hot tongue licked her throat. Then, in a winding path, his fangs raked down, searching out the vein. A shiver passed through her when they stopped over her hammering pulse. She sucked in a breath and held it, waiting. Teeth pierced her flesh. Alexia gasped at the twinge of pain from his bite, even as her body arched into it.

         
A large hand speared through her hair, keeping her neck tilted. The other covered her side at her waist, fingers digging into her leather bodice. The skin beneath his grip tingled. The blood surging through her veins, rushing to feed him, burned.

         
He was a fire, spreading through her, consuming her from the inside out. Each long, sensual pull of his mouth crackled white heat to her core. Her center wept, aching for something more. As if he read her mind, the tapered edge of his powerful wing dug into her butt, pressing her against the long, hard length of him. Pinwheels of fire licked her lower belly at the contact. When he did it again, she moaned at the sheer pleasure of it.

         
Parting her legs, she allowed his wide hips to sink into the cradle of her body. Big, heavy, he fit against her perfectly. Even though she knew she should be pushing him away, her fingers curled around his large biceps, pulling him closer. Nothing she'd experienced in her hundred and twenty years felt this natural, this right. To think she'd been denied this for so long would have sent her into a blind rage had she not felt so blissfully contented.

         
When he finally tore away from her throat, she mewled a whimper of protest. Dazed, Alexia opened her eyes and drank in the impressive sight of him arched above her. Once limp and useless, his other wing stretched out like a cat after a long nap. Her eyes fell to the gaping flesh wound on his side and widened as she watched it close as if sewn by an invisible thread. It struck her then her threat not to heal him meant nothing. He never needed her tools. He only needed her.

         
Her blood.

         
Then what did that make him? Dragons didn't feed from one another.

         
Before she could form words, he grinned and dipped his head again. The flat of his tongue ran along her throat, soothing her torn flesh. She licked her lips, tucking the lower one between her fangs as he nibbled and licked his way across her jaw.

         
"I should have warned you," he whispered in her ear. His smoky voice snaked around her, tightening the knot of lust already sinking hard and heavy inside her. "Feeding makes me horny as hell."

         
Me, too, she thought as he fit his lips over hers. They melted beneath the heat of his mouth. The taste of him and the flavor of her own coppery blood on his lips sent hunger coiling tight around her spine. Or maybe that was his wing, she thought as his tongue swept between her lips in a languid lick.

         
Alexia opened for him, eagerly accepting his searching tongue. Needing him to fill her any way he could. He tilted his head and swept his tongue inside. Two large hands palmed the sides of her face as his lips moved over hers in a sliding kiss.

         
Alexia lost herself in the sensations and sank into the wing behind her, relishing the support. Her hand lifted, gripping his strong jaw in her palm. Feeling the powerful muscles beneath bunch and flex and he worked his mouth over hers. His deep groan vibrated down her throat, all the way to her toes. The sound empowered her. To know how much he desired her was intoxicating. Lotharus never kissed her with such passion, with such palpable need.

         
Goddess above, help her. But she loved it. Loved the feel of his rough cheeks against her palms, the heavy weight of him above her, even the brawny and rather useful wing caressing her back.

         
"What the hell?"

         
At the guard's voice, Alexia jolted.

CHAPTER TWO

         
IN A BLINDING MOVE she couldn't track, the dragon hauled her to her feet, ripped the iron chain free from the wall and coiled the links around her neck. His other hand snaked around her waist, keeping her back pinned to his front.

         
"Get back," he told the guard in a deep growl.

         
Gasping, Alexia brought both hands to her neck. "What are you doing?" she panted.

         
The arm around her waist tightened, forcing her farther against his hard, naked body. His head dipped in the crook of her neck, nuzzling into the hair behind her ear. Hot and warm, his breath fluttered against her raw skin.

         
"Pity, I know," he murmured. "We were just getting started, you and I."

         
"You wish," she bit, jabbing her elbow into his gut. She had the satisfaction of hearing him grunt out a taxed breath before the chain tightened.

         
Damn, he was strong. Alexia winced as the chain bit into her skin. She had not expected his surge of power. Apparently, the guard hadn't either, for he looked from her to the dragon before finally reaching for the gun holstered on his hip.

         
"Don't do it," the dragon lord warned. "I'll kill her."

         
A deep hole scooped out of the center of her chest at his words. Never had she felt a bigger fool. The way he'd kissed her, touched her, had been no more than an act so he could heal himself with her blood and escape.

         
The click of a gun cocking echoed through the chamber. Alexia noticed the guard held his standard issue, pointed at them. The dragon's already hot skin seemed to ignite at the threat.

         
"I'm warning you, soldier," the dragon bit out, tightening his grip and taking another step back. Alexia hissed in an audible breath and the guard relaxed his weapon slightly. "Go ahead, Derkein." A deep voice purred in the darkness.

         
Alexia's breath caught.

         
Lotharus.

         
The deliberate clicking of boots on the stone floor announced his arrival. Alexia's heart pounded with each one, waiting, watching for him. Slowly, he emerged from the darkness, almost as if he'd been born of it.

         
As always, Lotharus dressed in black finery from head to foot and carried himself every bit the ageless immortal he was. Although tall and lean, his body reeked of unspeakable power that caused most mortals and immortals alike to shrink in his presence. Tonight, he wore his blond hair pulled back in a severe ponytail at his nape, showing off the aristocratic line of his jaw. However, Alexia could not take her gaze off his black eyes. They bore into hers, anger and the promise of punishment sizzling in their bottomless depths. "Kill her."

         
LIPS DRAWN TIGHT, Declan loosened the chain, holding the woman in a more protective way than before. Her pulse was racing, her body stiff as a board in his arms. A cold blackness crept inside the room that had not been there before this vampire had walked in. His soulless eyes spoke of untold evil, and it was all focused on her.

         
And she was terrified.

         
Declan's eyes narrowed in thinly veiled hatred. Vampire or no, any man who thought he owned another didn't deserve to live, much less enjoy power. His hold on the girl tightened while his grip on the chain loosened.

         
"Who are you to choose if she lives or dies?" Declan asked.

         
The vampire smiled with the corner of his mouth. "Let's just say we're...close."

         
At the small shudder that shook her body, a low growl vibrated in Declan's throat.

         
"But what I think won't matter," the vampire continued. "Once the Queen finds out her daughter has become a willing whore and blood thrall to one of her enemies, I'm quite certain she won't mourn the loss."

         
Caught up in the insane urge to protect her, Declan barely registered the vampire's monotone words. Then they hit him, each one like a blow to the chest. His brow tightened. The air he breathed dragged like sludge in his lungs.

         
The Queen. Daughter.

         
Disgusted, he released her. The chains rippled to the floor, clanking in a pile at his feet.

         
The instant his grip on her slackened, the iron cell wall creaked. Declan looked up, muttering a silent curse when he realized Lotharus's full attention was fixed on moving the wall with his mind force. The metal twisted and bowed beneath unseen hands. A second later it sprung free of its frame and jettisoned toward them.

         
Without a second thought, Declan grabbed the female by the shoulders, tossing her out of the way. He barely saw her fall safely to her knees before the heavy iron crashed into him. The blow picked him up off his feet, slamming him three feet back and into the wall like nothing more than a rag doll. Stones crumbled and a cloud of dust plumed around him from the hole his back dented into the wall. His body ached and pinpricks of pain shot out in all directions. But strength flowed in his replenished veins, taking over any hurt he may have felt. With a heaving grunt, he pitched the heavy iron aside. In one fluid move, he stood alert, braced for whatever else was coming at him.

         
The vampire smiled approvingly. Bringing his hands up, he began clapping his palms together in hard, me thodic slaps. Declan frowned. What the hell was wrong with this freak? He could have killed the girl had Declan not pushed her out of the way. Yet he looked as if he couldn't have been more pleased.