Vampire Elite (46 page)

Oberon knew that firsthand, because it had happened to him: Simone had revised Oberon’s lifelong concept of vampires. Even his blood-bond with Theores hadn’t managed to do that. Theores had been raised among humans, without exposure to vampire culture and traditions, so even though she’d had all the vampire characteristics, Oberon had perceived her as something like a “vampiric human.” In contrast, Simone, as daughter of the vampire King, had been raised in the very center of Sekhmi culture, embracing their customs and values from her first breath and totally identifying herself with Sekhmi.
 

During the past year with her, Oberon had learned a lot. He’d seen through her façade of bravado, her confident and self-sufficient persona, to the vulnerable soul hiding underneath. She longed for love and recognition, just as everyone did. But her half-Amiti, half-vampire parentage made her feel defective and misunderstood, unable to believe that others loved her. Trying to make up for it, she tried on one identity mask after another and often felt lost. Learning all this about her, Oberon discovered that Simone had become precious to him, and he wanted to help her find her true self, wanted her to feel accepted and understood for who she was, with all her imperfections.

And his growing intimacy with her had destabilized his convictions about all vampires. In Oberon’s eyes, vampires were suddenly demystified and became more than just bloodthirsty monsters without souls or any redeeming qualities. They became just another species, one among many inhabiting the planet. He’d started reevaluating options, trying to find a solution to the unacceptable impasse they faced. But, sadly, he couldn’t see how the situation could ever be resolved.

As for Simone, he didn’t know whether she loved him or not. He wasn’t entirely clear as to whether he loved her, either. But he didn’t need to know. What he did know was more important: that his entire being celebrated their union.

He also knew, of course, that she was bored out of her mind, sitting in a locked room in a human research station. Setting her free was out of the question because she was a Keeper, so he did the best he could to make her existence bearable. He entertained her by making each feeding an adventure, opening portals to the white sandy beaches of uninhabited islands, the ruins of ancient temples, hot springs, mud baths, a tent on a mountaintop, any exotic location that might bring her surprise and delight.

With each passing week, he became more certain that Simone would never become his obedient plaything. She never gave of herself completely as other females seemed to, particularly Amiti. She maintained her distinct personality and opinions, and he respected her all the more for it. The strength of her character, her refusal to bend to his will, fascinated him. And he knew it wasn’t in spite of her being vampire; it was the Sekhmi blood in her that made Oberon’s blood race wildly through his veins.

“Oberon.” Serena’s voice jolted him back into the present. “The Order’s decision is final. Now, we need to choose who will carry out the execution.”

Oberon wanted to kill Serena right then and there; she’d just sauntered in and taken over the Order. It had only been six months since she had been named Keeper and she was already acting as the Order’s leader. It seemed likely that had been her intention from the beginning; and he wondered how Serena planned to get rid of him. Had she guessed that he had feelings for Simone? It appeared that she had. She was smart. If he helped Simone escape, Serena would try to get him executed as a traitor and assume the leadership position in the Order.

“I offer my service.” Erec raised his hand.

Shit. Of course he did. Killing Sekhmi was Erec’s passion; he’d kill Simone without a second thought, and he’d enjoy it. Oberon pictured Erec torturing her to death, prolonging her suffering as long as he could—and then coming back to entertain his friends with a play-by-play.

"No, Erec, I’ll do it,” Oberon heard himself say in a firm voice that left no room for negotiation.
 

He needed time to come up with a plan to save Simone—and he had to do it fast, and without any possibility of detection. The Avengers would be tailing him, watching his every move.

“Well, Oberon? Care to elaborate?” asked Deimos.

“No. I think everything is clear. We’re done here. See you all in a month.” He stood and prepared to open a portal.

“Let me remind you, Oberon, that following our tradition, you must send Simone’s head to her family. It will be a well-deserved gift to the King.” Serena smiled, her eyes sparkling.

“Let
me
remind
you
, Serena: you are not the leader of this Order. You have no right to command me.” Barely containing his rage, he threw open a portal and stepped into the merciful darkness.

* * *

Not the Order's leader
yet
, Oberon. Things have a habit of changing. It won’t be long, my friend.
Serena waited for everybody but Erec and Kassi to leave the room.

“So, what do you think?”
 

“He’ll let her go. No question about it,” Erec sneered.
 

“Absolutely,” added Kassi.
 

“Follow him. I’ll guide you to where he takes her.” As a Keeper, Serena now could easily track Oberon. “When he lets Simone go, execute the sentence. But not before then. We need Oberon to show his true colors.”

Chapter 61

The Order’s residence, Tuscany

Simone was pissed, waiting to ambush Oberon when he came into her room. But even though her aim was spot-on, his reflexes were faster: he saw the huge book flying toward his head and ducked just in time, so it missed him by a few inches.
 

“Hey, hey, hey! Are you trying to kill your blood-bond, Princess? What did I do to upset my love?”

“You’re late. Where have you been?” Simone put her hands on her hips and frowned.

Oberon smiled and threw his arms around her waist. “I’m sorry, my beautiful, that I made you wait. I’ll make it up to you,” He lifted her in his arms and opened a portal. “Where do you want to go?”

“Take me to the dungeon so I can punish you.”

She could feel his whole body spring to attention.

He transported her to the dungeon in the basement of the same villa in Tuscany that he’d brought her to for their first feeding. It was one of their favorite places for certain types of entertainment. Probably dating to the fourteenth or fifteenth century, it was humid and murky, with walls made of large stone blocks and only one tiny window at ceiling level, unreachable to anyone below and blocked by wrought iron bars. The ancient restraints had suggested all sorts of possibilities to Simone, and Oberon had been enthusiastic about all of them. Since then, he’d equipped the dungeon with a variety of sex toys: chains, whips, gags, velvet and leather masks, ropes, and daggers.

Stepping into the cell, she immediately unbuttoned Oberon’s shirt. “When I’ve been waiting for you, I get so angry that I promise myself I’ll bite you
hard
.”

She drew her head back to appreciate the veins throbbing under the skin of his powerful neck. Her gaze dropped lower, to the thick pectoral muscles still half-hidden under the thin fabric of his shirt. She placed her index finger on his sternum and scraped her fingernail a few inches down to the middle of his chest, relishing the red mark it left on his skin, before lowering her mouth to his throat and gliding her fangs slowly along his neck.
 

She loved tormenting him, making him tremble with anticipation, his breath hitching in his throat. She knew it turned him on, and she’d also discovered that his blood tasted even better than usual when he was aroused.

“Now go to the wall and spread your arms. Make it easy for me to punish you,” she commanded.

Oberon obeyed, leaning against the wall and placing his wrists into the metal cuffs embedded in the wall. Simone locked the cuffs and left him like that.

A moment later, she returned looking like Catwoman in a black latex bodysuit, her hair pulled into a high, thick ponytail. She’d accessorized with black leather: thick studded cuffs at her wrists and a braided whip at her waist.

She strode over to an ancient wooden table covered with brown stains that had once been blood and made a show of carefully selecting a dagger from the collection organized there, tracing her fingers along several before picking up her favorite. Walking slowly and deliberately toward Oberon, she sliced through all his clothing, removing it and his weaponry piece by piece before wiping off the dagger and returning it to its spot. Turning back to face him, she tilted her head to appreciate the sight of him: completely naked, vulnerable, and helpless—and hard for her, of course. Good.
 

Reapproaching him, she showed him her fangs and then lowered her mouth to his jugular and bit into the skin lightly, releasing only a few drops of blood. She lowered her head to his chest, tracing the muscles there with her tongue, and then, using her fangs as daggers, she pierced his skin in unexpected places: his chest, shoulders, biceps, abs, hips. The blood oozed from the cuts, and soon Oberon’s body was covered with crimson streaks that formed random, vivid patterns across the golden skin of his torso and legs.

“You look incredibly sexy,” Simone heard herself saying as she shifted into an altered state, seeing nothing but this tantalizing male body bleeding for her.

She dropped to her knees and slowly began collecting his blood with her tongue, licking it from his legs, up to his abs, digging her long nails into the muscles of his buttocks, feeling with utter satisfaction how he calmed down and submitted to her. Amiti males were incredible. Sekhmi could never be this much fun; they were too consumed with their dominance, and you couldn’t drink from them.

Her hands reached for Oberon’s shaft and she squeezed it, hard, sliding her hands back and forth. Oberon’s legs buckled and his head sagged, his hands clutching at his chains to steady himself.

“You made me wait. Now suffer.” She laughed, whipping him into a frenzy, and then abruptly released her hand.

“Sim ... have mercy on me,” Oberon moaned. “Please, don’t stop.”

She laughed again and stabbed his hip with her fangs, sucking in a mouthful of hot, euphoric blood, reveling in having him vulnerable to her every whim. Then, leaving the blood to flow, she moved back to his cock, circling her tongue across the tender skin, attuned to every nuance of Oberon’s reaction, every shift of his mood. It was easy for her; he was her blood-bond.
 

When she sensed he was on the verge of climax, hoarsely calling out her name, she shifted her mouth from his cock to the vein in his groin and jabbed her fangs into it. Spasms of rapture rippled through Oberon’s body and blood shot into Simone’s mouth like molten lava. Her orgasm hit her like a truck, knocking the wind out of her. She felt her head falling away from Oberon’s flesh, her body sinking to the floor ...
 

Opening her eyes, she found herself prostrate in the pool of blood that had formed under Oberon, who was still hanging from his chains above her, fighting to stay conscious. She turned on her side and pushed herself up to lick her way up his body, sealing his wounds with her tongue. When she released him from his chains, Oberon sank to the floor, propped himself against the wall, and sat with his eyes closed, his head lolling on his shoulder.

Simone fondled him, snuggling herself under his arm. These moments with him were usually utterly peaceful—but she wasn’t feeling it today. Something was out of whack with her blood-bond; he was obviously distracted.

She lifted her head to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

Without any preamble, Oberon said, “The Order has issued a warrant for your execution.”

“
What?
”
 

“They want to kill you, Sim. They want to turn the Key, and they don’t think you’ll ever support their cause because you are a vampire.”
 

So that was it. Simone had known that it was only a matter of time; she was the Keeper who stood in the way of the Order’s goals. She’d been repressing the idea, pushing it out of her awareness, but it was time to face facts. Now that the decision had been made, they’d stop at nothing to destroy her.
 

“So, what do we do now? I can’t go back to the research station; that would just make me a sitting duck, right?”

“Right. Especially if the guy assigned to be your executioner is me.”

Simone searched Oberon’s face, trying to read him. The blood-bond gave him absolute power over her life or death. If he decided she must die, she would die. She was completely defenseless against the blood-bond.

“Are you going to kill me?” Her hands were fisted so tightly that she was piercing her skin with her fingernails.

“Of course not.” He pulled her back to him and pressed her head under his chin. “You’ll be okay. You’re not going to die at the hands of the Order.”

Simone felt his warmth, his appreciation of her. She believed him even though he was holding her prisoner. She refused to consider the possibility that she could be in love with him. No, actually, she
could
consider it: she wasn’t in love with him. He’d used her as a lab rat for a year; she’d never forgive that. But she did have deep feelings for him. The problem was that they were equal parts affection and anger.

“Then let me go. Right now. I’ll buy a ticket and fly to Nice.”

“You’ll be dead before you get on the plane. The Order knows I’m going to free you, so they sent Avengers to finish what I can’t.”

“Avengers?”

“Assassins. Real pros. They’ll have no trouble killing you, believe me.”

“So what do we do?”

“I have a plan, but you need to follow it strictly, to the letter. No deviation whatsoever. Understood?”

Simone nodded.

Oberon leaned over and pulled his cell phone from the pocket of what was left of his pants. “Call someone from your pride, whoever you’re most confident can protect you. We’ll meet that person—
alone
—at the Temple of Hathor in Dendera, in Egypt, tonight at midnight.”