Vampire Trinity (3 page)

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Authors: Joey W. Hill

BOOK: Vampire Trinity
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Of course, on the reality of that night, she hadn’t had that clarity, but in the drifting fantasy of her dream, she knew it as truth, her desires meeting her memories.
She’d taken him to the Rose Room. It was remarkable that she’d chosen that room that night. Wall-to-floor-to-ceiling mirrors, the only prop a pedestal in the center with a vase of bloodred roses, a trail of petals scattered across the reflective floor.
He’d glanced into the room, a warrior’s caution, but it hadn’t given him pause. She’d barely crossed the threshold when his arms closed around her. She turned in that embrace, let out a small shudder of desire as he lifted her up against the wall and tore the side of her snug skirt all the way to the hip. She hadn’t worn any panties under it, because of the tightness of the garment and because she liked to feel her thighs compressing her labia as she walked, that pleasurable friction of skin on skin.
There were inviolate rules about protection, safety, boundaries. She knew there would be none of that between them. When he lowered his hand to touch her, she arched with a moan. Finding her cunt, he pushed two fingers into soaking wet heat that clamped down on him, a shuddering spasm of response.
He freed himself from his jeans. She dug her fingers into his shoulders as he gripped her hips, pushed forward and pinned her deep and hard. He dove deep, to the hilt, and a sound between a breath, a moan and a cry wrenched from her throat. She refused to close her eyes, wanting him to see, to know that she did all of this willingly. That she was giving him control, not surrendering it.
His lips curled back from sharp fangs, a crimson flicker going through the dark eyes. The pupils were expanding, taking over the whites, those traces of hellfire threading through them. As he pressed her up against the smooth mirror, she realized she couldn’t see him in any of the hundreds of reflections. It was just her, and yet she’d never felt more . . . not alone. His hand wrapped in her hair and exposed her throat. Crimson became flame in those wholly dark eyes, and then his fangs were there, sinking deep, just like his cock. Sensation exploded through every nerve ending, starting where they were joined.
That was all it took. She came hard on him, her fluids gushing over his thick length, her body wracked by convulsions as the pleasure gripped her in relentless hands, like his. He was still moving inside her, thrusting with brutal purpose, his mouth taking blood from her throat.
There was no opportunity or desire for games, no sense that she needed to prove to him that she was a Mistress, used to holding the reins. He knew all of it, knew all of her. It was frightening and thrilling at once. Handling him would be the challenge of her life.
She had no knowledge of paranormal beings, hadn’t really given them any thought, but she accepted who and what he was as if she’d always known. Her heart had been waiting for a vampire.
As Anwyn slowly surfaced from the dream, her thighs were trembling, damp, telling her that she’d climaxed. Reaching behind her, she slid her hand down Gideon’s rib cage and over the curve of his bare buttock, his thigh tucked up beneath hers. Listened to his even breathing. The third member of their uncertain triangle, he’d come five years later, to her present, whereas Daegan was currently absent, a hole in her heart she was glad she had Gideon to assuage.
He cinched his arm around her waist more securely, pressed his face in her hair, reminding her he was there, his heat and strength behind her. While she liked the tactile reminder, she didn’t need to have it to feel his presence. Ever since she’d third-marked him, he was in her very soul, and she wanted him there. At a moment like this, she almost felt balanced, for Daegan’s presence from the dream was still so close it felt as if he were in front of her, Gideon behind.
She’d hold on to the peace the temporary illusion gave her in sleeping hours, because peace was a far more rare commodity when she faced the reality of what she’d become. A vampire, turned against her will, infected by a schizophrenic sire with unpredictable seizures and dangerous surges of bloodlust. A vampire who might never have full control of her life again, who was dependent on a vampire hunter who’d become her third-marked servant by accident, and a powerful vampire she blamed for not being there when she’d needed him.
At least when she met Daegan in her dreams, she didn’t carry the burden of his betrayal. The thousand small angers that had culminated in his leaving. In her dreams, she was allowed to simply miss him, and wish he’d come back. The insidious shadow creatures in her brain that sometimes followed her into her dreams had no power when he was there, which made his presence all the more welcome.
Every waking moment required her to accept her deepest fear. Her control, cultivated carefully over a lifetime, could now be scattered like bowling pins. The schizophrenic mood shifts brought rages, delusions and hungers. They swamped her systems and turned her into a force of destruction. Such episodes could come at any time. Some days it was every few hours. Occasionally she had the peace of a full day without one.
The fledgling bloodlust was a whole different ballgame from the seizures. The seizures were a physical ravagement of her systems, a mind-shrieking session of crazy, murderous madness. With bloodlust, she
would
have what she wanted, and anything that stood in her way was fair game. Now that Gideon was a third-mark servant, she had less fear of harming him irreparably, but she was grateful she’d fallen in with a male who’d lived so much of his life as a warrior. In her sensible moments, she was able to appreciate the complex choreography of defense and offense strategies that came so naturally to him. When Daegan was here, they’d coordinated their movements to help distract or restrain her, anticipate which direction her violence would strike and contain it before it happened.
I want you, no matter what you are. I always will. Never doubt it.
Daegan had said those words to her before he left. She remembered the touch of his long-fingered, large hands, the sensual, firm mouth. The unending strength of his body, surging into hers. She remembered his many expressions, the dangerous smile that always felt like a special gift for her. He hadn’t smiled much, the days before he’d left, but there’d been less cause, for all of them.
In his absence, with Gideon here, she’d realized she didn’t want to have it back the way it was. She wanted something better for them, for all three of them. Gideon was the missing piece that could make it work, mingling the past, present and future in a way that gave her hope in her dreams.
Unfortunately, Gideon was resolved that he was merely a temporary measure until she found a “real” servant. In fact, that resolve had grown steadily stronger. Since she had full access to his mind, there was no hiding from the harsh truth. The vampire hunter, who had become more dedicated and intuitive to her well-being every day for the past month, had no intention of being any vampire’s permanent servant.
Ever.
One month earlier
D
AEGAN had explained it was vital he get to the Council, that he was past due to report to them face-to-face on the events of the past couple of weeks. She understood that logically, but once Brian arrived, Daegan took his leave almost as soon as he discussed her condition with the vampire scientist and ensured he understood the role Daegan needed him to fill. Use his scientific skills to determine if there were ways to get the debilitating seizures and convulsions that didn’t fit with a normal vampire transition under control, and use his strength as a vampire to help Gideon when she had those seizures, so she didn’t cause harm to anyone, including herself.
Giving her and Gideon another look, Daegan had turned back to Brian. “Until I return, until this is managed, the relationship she has with her servant is exclusive.”
“Damn right about that,” Gideon muttered.
Brian’s brow lifted, his gaze cutting to Gideon and then coming back. “Not my type,” he noted dryly, with a hint of a smile at Gideon’s scowl. “But I understand.”
Before she could catch up on all the undercurrents in that exchange, Daegan put his large hands on her shoulders and gave her that look that said not to cross him on what he was about to say. It immediately stiffened her spine.
“Lord Brian is in charge until my return. Period. Follow his direction as you would follow mine.” A grimness tightened his jaw at the look in her eye. “Perhaps better than that. I trust him and he is here to help you. All right,
cher
? If I have lost your trust, trust at least that this man can make things better for you, if you will let him.”
He said it flatly, no inflection, but it sent a shard of glass through her heart anyway. She’d managed a nod, and because she knew he’d be gone in a few moments, she reached up, framed his face, her thumbs passing over his lips.
Don’t leave me, don’t leave me.
Soon after she’d been turned, he’d taken her blood as a sire would, so he could speak in her mind or hear her thoughts as needed, but he’d vowed he’d do that only when essential to her well-being. He’d been well aware that bloodtaking had been another betrayal of past promises made. So she didn’t know whether she was glad or not he’d apparently honored his vow and missed her involuntary thought.
Closing his hand over her wrist, he gazed down into her face. Those dark eyes were so unfathomable to her, and yet so absorbed in everything she was, she almost swayed into him. But she managed to hold her ground. He lifted his gaze to Gideon, standing just behind her.
Though Gideon usually told Daegan to fuck off when he tried to issue him a directive, Anwyn knew that Gideon shared Daegan’s confidence in Lord Brian. He also seemed to understand this moment was not about that. “We’ll be here,” the hunter said. “Watch your ass and get it back here as soon as you can. She needs you.”
Fucking handling her, the both of them, Gideon saying what she couldn’t bring herself to say.
Daegan raised a brow. “And you, vampire hunter?”
“I need you like I need a chancre on my dick. Thanks for asking.”
A cough came from the corner of their sitting room, where Debra and Brian were setting up a variety of equipment that looked like what she’d see in a private, well-funded hospital. Daegan sent Brian a quizzical look but the attractively built male with dark blond hair and direct green eyes straightened, nodded with a serious mien. “We’ll do whatever we can for her.”
Daegan nodded, looked back toward Anwyn and Gideon, but it was Gideon’s gaze he met. “It turns out you are not the third wheel after all, Gideon Green. Right now I am. Care for her. I will be back soon, but if she needs anything, you let me know.”
His words appeared to stun Gideon. Anwyn didn’t know what to say, but the vampire didn’t seem to require her words. With an oath, he jerked her to him, tasting her mouth, rough and deep. It had barely started before he let her go, so suddenly she staggered back. With his exceptional vampire speed, he was already gone, Gideon’s hands on her shoulders.
“That lacked some of his usual finesse.” Gideon cleared his throat.
She locked her jaw against the surge of emotion that came with Daegan’s abrupt absence, the immediate emptiness inside her. Instead, she let herself feel the tightening of Gideon’s hands, his silent understanding. He always assumed that he was second fiddle to Daegan, but she knew that wasn’t correct. She didn’t know if she could explain it herself, however, or if she even wanted to do so. How could she explain that there was something in her, growing ever larger daily, that needed both of them in her life, for different reasons but no less strongly, not one over the other? Particularly when she was nursing a deep sense of inexplicable hurt toward one, and the other one considered this a temporary role at best.
Moving away, she turned and faced Lord Brian. She read people well, particularly men. She’d been braced for Lord Brian to be arrogant and overbearing, a less palatable form of Daegan. Perhaps it was the title, which she understood was given to all born vampires, or those awarded a Region. Brian was the former, the son of a British Region Master.
Much as she was reluctant to admit it while she was out of sorts with him, Daegan had understood her better than that. He had told her some about her new warden before the scientist arrived. Lord Brian was a rarity in his world. Though young for a vampire at eighty years, he’d shown no interest in becoming a territory overlord or Region Master. His ambition was wholly targeted toward a better understanding of the physiology of vampires. His studies included everything from the chemical makeup of the bond between vampires and servants to whether or not vampire vulnerability to the sun could be overcome. He also headed up project teams that were trying to cure the two diseases that affected vampires, Ennui and the Delilah virus.

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