Tormented

Tormented K. Z. Snow All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2008 K. Z. Snow

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ISBN: 978-1-59596-978-1

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Editor: Vicki S. Burklund

Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

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Tormented K. Z. Snow Rahenna doesn’t want to be a wicked vampire bitch. But she can’t help it. This lovely elder has been stricken with a mysterious infection. As “out of sorts” as she is, Rahenna summons the will to provide protection for one of her fledglings recently turned mortal, the gorgeous Adin Swift, as he celebrates his first real birthday in over six hundred years. It proves to be a very strange party, in a number of ways. After Rahenna and ancient vampire Rugh rout the evil undead trying to crash the birthday celebration, it’s time for some sexual healing… vamp-ménage style.

Chapter One Rahenna was in the middle of feeding from a young, succulent, muscle-bound fisherman on Pico Island in the Azores when she felt a strange tugging at her blood vessels, en masse, as if they were a net being pulled from the sea. Veins, arteries, capillaries all seemed on the verge of popping through her pores. Stiffening, she removed her lips from the man’s throat and let out an agonized groan as the insistent tugging continued. The man likely thought she was climaxing, since his cock was buried deep within her body, pounding away like a pestle. She almost had achieved climax, but this intensely disturbing sensation had quashed it. Blood trickled from three small punctures her sharpened nails had made in her lover’s neck. A few drops fell on Rahenna’s chin. The rest formed a scarlet slick just above his collarbone. Instinctively, she licked his skin. It was something she normally did with unrestrained relish. Yet, at the moment, the act almost made her nauseous. The twisting, churning ache within her body continued, pushing her to the brink of hysteria. The feeling was not only distressing, but frighteningly unfamiliar. She simply couldn’t fathom what was happening to her. Still fretting and anxious, Rahenna was jolted by a keener sensation -- two blasts of pleasure-pain, centering on her nipples. It felt as if her breasts were being branded. Her body didn’t seem to know how to respond. It alternately arched forward and shrank back, her spine bowing first one way, then the other. A quavering whimper crawled up her throat. It spiraled into a broken cry. What was going on? In all her centuries on earth, she’d never experienced such a physical onslaught, such a tangled, thorny mass of stimuli.

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-6-

Unbearably tight, her nipples burned. Moisture seemed to spread across her breasts. They felt swollen, throbbing. Suddenly, her body thundered into orgasm, its power arching her neck and driving her head into the pillow, stiffening her limbs. Her fingers, curling into claws, grasped the sheet beneath her as if she were about to rip it from the mattress. As she gasped for breath, she heard the man expel a low, chuckling sigh. “Maravilhoso,” he breathed as he withdrew his spent cock. Kneeling between her thighs, he simply stared down at her. Then he tilted forward, locking his arms and flattening his hands on either side of Rahenna’s shoulders. On all fours now, caging her with his burly body, he kept regarding her. Lifting an arm, he swiped a callused finger against one of her peaked nipples. “Maravilhoso.” Rahenna flinched. The grazing touch was like a bee sting. Her nipples were still extremely taut and as sensitive as if they’d been flayed. She rolled onto her side to discourage further play. The man didn’t move, though. He seemed to like looming over her and keeping her trapped. At the moment, Rahenna didn’t care. Her brain seemed to be dancing in her skull. She couldn’t seem to still it enough to focus on anything. She felt drained of energy, although she was vaguely aware of stray orgasmic contractions pulsing erratically between her legs. She struggled to comprehend what had happened. First the inside of her body was assailed by a force she didn’t understand. Then the outside of her body was assaulted. Or, at least, it felt like an assault, definitely more violent than passionate. Gradually, her racing heartbeat slowed. Her mind quieted and cleared. A strong urge to weep momentarily displaced any physical discomfort. Rahenna fought against the urge, not wanting to alarm her lover, not wanting to invite unwelcome questions. Now she understood, at least, what that initial sensation stemmed from. One of her children had reverted. There was no doubt. One of her children had just become mortal again. But who?

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Over the centuries, Rahenna had birthed over five hundred vampires. Not a large number, considering her age. But she was of the Pagan Breed, late Irish Celtic. Unless a soiled bloodline somehow mixed with the Pagan and corrupted it, her breed was known for its dignity and integrity, both of which amounted to restraint. Pagan Breed vampires were uncommonly respectful and considerate of mortals. They only birthed humans who asked to be birthed… and had good reasons for asking. How very odd that her breed should have those characteristics, Rahenna had often thought. Her native people were wild, ferocious warriors. But she’d heard from elders that both Greco-Roman and early Christian strains had been introduced into the Pagan bloodline, and the three somehow tempered one another. Still sweating and breathing heavily, the swarthy man who’d just fucked her as he ravaged her breasts finally flopped onto the mattress. He lay at Rahenna’s back. His name, she suddenly remembered, was Inigo. The odor of cachaca, a local brandy, drifted up from his damp skin. She wondered if there were any lingering traces of blood on his throat, then wondered why it should matter. Blood wouldn’t pique his suspicion. He was a brute. In his mind, drawing blood was likely an integral part of any carnal encounter. Besides, the tiny wounds she’d made were concealed within his whisker stubble and would be gone in a day or so. When her nails sharpened for piercing, they were no wider than sturdy needles. She didn’t have to use fangs to feed. Her breed didn’t have to bite to draw blood. The feeding wouldn’t change him in the least, so Inigo would never know he’d nourished a vampire. He rolled toward the nightstand to grab a pack of cigarettes. Rahenna’s thoughts again gathered around her disturbing realization. One of them has reverted. But which one? And why? Silent, Inigo indulged in his post-coital cigarette. Silent, Rahenna stared at the stucco wall a few dim feet away, waiting for her body to slough off the pain that still tormented it. Her breasts hurt like hell. If only she’d known when she encountered Inigo that his lovemaking would be so savage…

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-8-

They’d met just last night, in a little cervejaria, or pub, in Madalena. His interest in her was immediate and obvious. In the course of their conversation, Rahenna explained that she’d rented a small villa for the summer, a charmingly rustic and isolated refuge tucked between the island’s mountain vineyards and the lush, green declivity that led to the ocean. After asking two or three questions about it, Inigo was able to pinpoint the villa’s location. The locals were like that. Last night, however, Rahenna had only a minimal interest in him. She’d just fed, so she had no need for his company. She returned to her cottage alone. Today, shortly after dusk, Inigo surprised her by showing up at her doorstep. He was somewhat intoxicated, and his intent was clear. Rahenna didn’t turn him away. She hadn’t yet fed. So his appearance seemed rather propitious. They were in bed together within minutes. Rahenna wasn’t particularly attracted to Inigo, but that was irrelevant. Fucking a man was simply the easiest and safest way to feed off him. Caught in the throes of lust, he never realized his partner was being far more invasive than he could ever be, no matter how big his cock. Besides, sex was the perfect complement to blood drinking, like a delicious gourmet meal was the perfect complement to fine wine. As Inigo contentedly smoked, Rahenna couldn’t help obsessing over the reversion of one of her children. It was a rare occurrence, perhaps even rarer than death. And Pagan Breed vampires, who could function quite normally in the daytime, were not easily killed. So, yes, reversion to a mortal state was rare indeed. Rahenna could still feel its aftershocks rumbling through her spirit. They made her queasy and somewhat disoriented. A vampire always felt the death or reversion of one of its children. There was no escaping the connection. She wanted to be rid of the man who still lay beside her so she could concentrate on this peculiar turn of events, so she could train all of her natural and supernatural senses on it. Moreover, Inigo’s rough handling of her flesh had made her develop a distinct aversion to him.

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“You have wine?” Inigo asked in Portuguese-accented English. His baritone voice was laconic. His English was surprisingly good. Yesterday, he’d explained that he was raised on Terceira Island near Lajes Field, a military facility operated by the U. S. Air Force. Rahenna glanced over her shoulder. “Of course.” He got off the bed, apparently to search for some, before Rahenna could stop him. She took the opportunity to go to the bathroom. Damn, her head and joints ached, and her breasts felt at once leaden and fragile. As soon as she flipped on the bathroom light, she turned toward the mirror. “What the hell?” she whispered in horror. Her breasts looked like plump bull’s-eyes. Raw, concentric circlets of tiny incisions surrounded each areola. The areolas had deepened in color to near-burgundy. Her nipples were more distended than she’d ever seen them, rising almost a half-inch from their discolored bases. Rahenna leaned closer to the mirror and tenderly touched one with the very tip of her forefinger. As light as the tap was, it was acutely stimulating and sent an arousing jolt to her cunt. Lubricant flooded her pussy. Panting, she closed her eyes, trying to resist an overwhelming impulse to bring herself to climax -- no matter what it took or how painful the means. She had to compose herself enough to examine those troubling marks. Heavily opening her eyes, she studied the little crimson slashes. Their circular arrangement somehow looked familiar. Rahenna carefully pressed her palms against the centers of her breasts, risking further stimulation, to find out just how tender the injuries were. With a hiss of pain and excitement, she felt her spine curve to her own touch. The marks flamed, as if they’d suddenly begun to ooze acid. She pulled her hands away and looked into her palms. A little smear sat in the middle of each. Lifting her hands to her face, Rahenna studied the moist dots. She touched one with her tongue. Her face compressed in bewilderment. To confirm her impression, she again fingered her nipples.

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They were leaking. They were leaking milk and blood. A wave of dizziness washed over her. Clutching the side of the sink, she tried to remember where she’d seen such marks before. Or what kind of mouth could deliver them. An image drifted into her mind. No, that can’t be. A lamprey eel. She exhaled a weak laugh. A were-eel? There were no such things as were-eels… any more than there were were-oysters or were-salmon or were-fucking-plankton. What the bloody hell was Inigo? Trying to summon her power, Rahenna stumbled out of the bathroom. She wanted to tear him apart then blast him into oblivion. But she was rapidly losing both strength and coordination. When she entered the bedroom, she saw Inigo, fully dressed, sitting in a chair. He was pouring wine down his throat. She wanted to rip out his throat and watch the wine splash onto the white rug at his feet. But she was impotent. “What have you done to me?” she asked, grasping a bedpost to steady herself. A chilly fog once again wrapped around her brain. Poison was invading her system. Inigo lazily shifted his eyes to regard her. “Nothing more than what you did to me.” He lifted his glass in a mock toast. “We are what we are, pretty lady vampire.” After taking another long draft, Inigo smacked his lips. He tilted his head, regarding the crystal goblet half-full of translucent red liquid. “Your tits provided my aperitif. Your body was my meal.” He swirled the wine. “Here is my after-dinner drink. But this fruit of Pico’s vines disappoints me now.” Rahenna blinked against blurring vision and stretched an arm toward him. “Do you wish to fuck me again, lady vampire?” Inigo asked quite innocently. “Or do you wish to kill me?”

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“Get out, and don’t come back,” Rahenna said in a rasping whisper. She dropped onto the bed. The jouncing of her breasts was agony. She was beyond stimulation now, and almost beyond rage. Her bones felt ready to puddle onto the warm, tousled sheets. Inigo shrugged. “I’m done with you anyway.” He finished his wine in a leisurely way, set the glass on the floor, and sauntered out of the room. Rahenna crawled far enough up the bed to nestle her head in a pillow. Her thoughts floated randomly, in and out of echoing caves. Within one of them lurked a startling revelation. Silently and uncontrollably, tears filled her eyes. The salty rivulets dampened the pillowcase beneath her cheek. No. No, no, not you! Not you, facing age and infirmity and death! She suddenly knew which of her children had reverted. It was Adin, Adin Swift, the beautiful, tortured Englishman she’d birthed during the Black Plague. How she’d desired him, loved him! But he hadn’t been capable of returning her desire or her love. She’d had no choice but to surrender him to the world. Losing him had made her heartsick, but she’d had no choice. “Not you, Adin,” she mumbled into the indifferent air. “Anyone but you.” In the names of the gods, what had happened? Pain chewed through Rahenna’s body from her chest to her feet and the top of her head. She curled in on herself like a speared fish. The position somehow felt right. Whatever Inigo did to her would not kill her, could not kill her, but she sensed it would lay her low for a long time. She would, in a way, become fetal again -- tightly tucked and nearly insensate, swaddled in darkness -- until her body was ready to reenter the world. Rahenna’s final thought before consciousness abandoned her -- I must find him.

Chapter Two Five Months Later Woodbine. How idyllic. Rahenna would never have imagined the urbane Adin Swift settling down in such a place. Then again, maybe it made sense. Maybe cities, particularly the one in which he was born, held ugly associations for him, and he wanted to retire from the prowl in a place where Nature held sway. She had to admit the surroundings were both calming and revitalizing. Heavily wooded land pressed in on the town from all sides. The air was clean and scented with pine. Lakes, ponds and streams were tucked within the forest. Wildlife seemed abundant. Yes, the Mother ruled here. More and more, Rahenna liked escaping to such places, which explained her presence in the Azores. Although she occasionally craved the excitement of cities, the countryside was, after all, her home. When she finally came out of hibernation following Inigo’s attack -- for when a vampire is in a frail and vulnerable state, it usually lapses into hibernation until its strength is restored -- she trained her senses on Adin. It was difficult at first. His reversion to mortality had considerably weakened their original bond. Some threads, though, remained. Proceeding largely on instinct alone, Rahenna took a jet to Chicago. Her sense of Adin became sharper the closer she got to him. In Chicago she leased a car and began driving north. As soon as she got past the distracting clamor sent up by a cluster of urban areas, the car seemed to drive itself. Although Rahenna still didn’t know her destination, she knew how to get there. Had Adin not reverted, she could have gone to him without the aid of any type of vehicle. Elder vampires could reposition themselves with lightning speed, too fast for

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mortal eyes to perceive. But, under the circumstances, there was a chance she would miss her mark. The plodding pace of automobile travel would ensure she stayed on the right track. Besides, once Rahenna got to where Adin was, she wanted to make her appearance the way any ordinary traveler would. She wanted to blend in. She knew he was somewhere in this outpost called Woodbine as soon as she saw the town’s name on a green highway sign. The feel of him lapped at her skin, inside and out. A half-mile farther on, she turned into the parking lot of Blaine’s Sunset Motel. From here it would be easy for her to reposition herself accurately to Adin’s location. He was near, very near. After Rahenna checked into her room, she immediately showered. Then she studied her body in the bathroom mirror. Since she’d fed not long ago at a rest area -on a sleek buck who was himself feeding on the dried corn in a surrounding field -- she was fully visible before reflective surfaces. “Yes, fine now,” she murmured with approval, running her hands over her restored body. The flesh of her breasts was creamy again, completely unmarred. Her nipples were taut but normal -- no excessive height, no discoloration. The mahogany highlights in her long, dark hair had their sheen back, and her blue-green eyes were clear and bright. She thought she might have lost some weight, but the effect was pleasing. Her five-foot, ten-inch form was willowy. The slender silhouette combined with her pinktinted porcelain skin made her look elegant. She had been thirty-four when she was born into immortality… so thirty-four she would always remain. Because casual dress seemed appropriate for this place, Rahenna put on a pair of jeans, a tailored, russet-colored cotton shirt, and simple, flat pumps in russet suede. She wore only one piece of jewelry -- an ankh ring, 18-karat gold. “Well, time for an explanation,” she said to the mirror as she tucked in her shirt. Taking a deep breath, she walked outside, circled to the back of the motel, strolled into the woods… and spun off to find Adin Swift.

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Rahenna stood on a broad sweep of lawn that sloped down from a chalet-style house to the woods that nearly engulfed it. Winding flower beds, mostly decimated by frost, embellished the edge of the yard. Only the asters and chrysanthemums bloomed cheerily, their rich colors striking against the backdrop of thick shade. She guessed she was at the rear of the house, where a second-story deck certainly afforded a breathtaking view of the surrounding landscape. The deck, she was sure, was off the master bedroom. Adin wasn’t in that room. He was downstairs, and he was alone. Although many yards of space and several walls separated them, Rahenna could feel his presence throb against her, into her. She felt it most strongly in her heart, as if a small hand had pushed through the muscle and was gently palpating its interior walls. Silently, she called to him. It got his attention. A faint, tentative response shivered through Rahenna’s blood. But Adin either didn’t believe what he heard or was trying to resist the summons. She called again. This time, it unsettled him. The response was jagged, like a wavy line that suddenly folds into sharp peaks. It pricked at Rahenna’s nerves. She tried to make her third call more persuasive as well as reassuring. No need for him to feel threatened. Within moments, the back door opened. Looking troubled, Adin stepped onto the patio. He paused. Rahenna felt him inhale, saw his gaze shift as he peered across the lawn. Then he saw her. She slowly walked forward, not wanting to alarm him any more than she already had. Adin was every bit as beautiful as she remembered, perhaps even more so. The sight of him made her breath shallow. Misery and fury no longer distorted his handsome features. He’d been nothing short of a walking train wreck when she’d first met him. But now, the shadows were gone from beneath his eyes. His skin was sunkissed, not pale, his cheeks rouged with good health. Beneath that tawny, smooth skin, his muscles were more pronounced and had greater definition. She watched them move with all the supple strength of a man in his prime. A very vital man.

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He simply stared at her, lips parted, depthless indigo eyes unblinking. “Rahenna?” “Yes.” Her limbs felt rubbery. Adin still had the most maddeningly inviting mouth… “Why are you here?” He was guarded, suspicious. It was obvious. It was also understandable. Slipping her hands in her pockets, Rahenna rested her back against an aspen tree, its autumn-gold crown making a dry whisper whenever a breeze slipped through it. The feel of the sturdy trunk helped steady her. “Would you prefer I leave?” Adin’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her, trying to examine her motives. “I don’t know yet. First, tell me why you’re here.” “Because I felt your reversion.” He gave a slight nod of confirmation. “That happened months ago. And why should it concern you enough to find me?” “You know why. We’re connected in a way few beings are. I’d like to know what happened. I care about you, Adin. Deeply.” The declaration must have touched some chord in him. His eyelids fluttered, their dark lashes feathering the crest of his cheekbones. “You can stop caring now. I’m very much in love and very happy.” “What happened?” Rahenna asked more insistently, trying to ignore the way his words had stabbed at her. “I found the Plague Breed vampire who murdered my parents.” The statement was a shock. It left her momentarily dumbfounded. Before she’d birthed Adin in 1349, he’d told her only that his wife and parents had died within the space of six months. She’d assumed the Black Plague had claimed them all and that he wanted to escape the same fate. Now, in light of this revelation, Rahenna needed no further explanation for his reversion. “So you killed him,” she said. “Of course I did.” An icy satisfaction clung to the words. “But you were Pagan Breed dominant, Adin, and Plague Breed recessive.”

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“I don’t need to be reminded.” “But I need to understand!” Rahenna shrilled, patting her chest. “What don’t you understand,” he asked coolly, “about me wanting to avenge my parents’ murder… and having every right to do so?” “This is what I don’t understand. You knew -- I’m sure you knew -- the differences between breeds. You knew a Pagan Breed dominant could not kill another vampire without grave consequences. And you knew that if you killed one of your own kind, you would become mortal again.” “Of course I knew.” Adin’s tone was flat. He was trying to remain aloof, unmoved by her emotion, untouched by his past. “But the creature I eliminated was not one of my ‘kind.’ At least not in my eyes. So I regret nothing.” “You said he was a Plague Breed vampire. You were Plague Breed recessive, Adin. That alone made him one of your kind.” Rahenna briefly cradled her forehead in her hand. “I lovingly gave you the gift of immortality, and you threw that gift away.” His expression softened a bit. “I don’t fear mortality, Raney. I welcome it.” Rahenna sensed a swell of love within him. She knew it wasn’t for her, even though he’d called her by the diminutive, affectionate form of her name. He was certainly thinking about his mate, who must be an ordinary human. “And you don’t miss --” “No.” The answer was abrupt. Ah, but a part of him does miss his old life, and this troubles him. Having it brought up makes him uncomfortable. Trying not to betray her pleasure, Rahenna kept her expression impassive. This unfamiliar streak of pettiness confounded her. She’d never before delighted in someone’s discomfort. “I wanted the Blood Birth for one reason alone,” Adin said. “So I could stalk that monster as long as was necessary. And you, as I recall, encouraged my conversion to vampirism.”

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“Because I thought you were seeking salvation from the Plague!” Rahenna was utterly exasperated. Why, she wondered, did she feel a need to defend herself? She hadn’t forced herself on him. Adin crossed his arms over his chest. “I believe your motives were somewhat more selfish than that, Raney.” Damn it, but his gaze still made her feel spellbound. And it was so much more confident now, so much more arresting. An unsettling tension had begun to coil within her. It felt tighter by the second. “What do you mean?” she whispered, knowing full well what he meant. “You lusted for me. You longed to have me as a mate.” Although the assertion made her heart stutter, Rahenna quickly recovered. Imperiously, she walked toward him. Vulnerable though he now was, Adin didn’t quail. His calm courage only fueled her desire for him. She silently cursed herself for her weakness and cursed the man responsible for it. The coil within her wound tighter. “As I recall,” she said in a voice like vinegar, “you were very nearly on the verge of offering yourself to me.” One side of Adin’s mouth curved into a wry, almost disdainful smile. “You know as well as I do that a newly birthed vampire immediately bonds with his birth master or mistress. It’s part of the process. I was like a hatchling, a chick whose first impulse is to follow mother hen. But within a couple of days that was no longer the case. I was eager to be on my way. Had I felt genuine, deep passion for you, I would have stayed.” Rahenna glared at him. She wanted to explode like a nova. Tempted to overpower him, she stepped closer. The memory of Adin Swift had tormented her for centuries. She wanted to prove they should have mated, he did hoard passion for her. “Hatchling, my ass,” she hissed. “You wanted to fuck me as soon as you arose.”

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Adin’s forehead creased. He finally did back away from her. “No, I simply wanted to feed. That was the urge you sensed in me.” He shook his head, as if he couldn’t comprehend her. “With all your experience, you surely knew that.” Breathing heavily -- driven by rage at his rejection, and unfulfilled need -Rahenna closed the small distance between them. His eyes seemed to be swallowing her up. The look and smell of him were driving her mad. A low growl crawled out of her chest. Uncontrollably, her lips parted. She wanted to crush them against Adin’s sumptuous mouth, his pulsing throat. She wanted to tear at his soft, gleaming hair. She wanted to pull his luscious cock out of his jeans and suck it until he collapsed to the ground at her feet. And then she would drink from him. She would slake her burning thirst by drinking long and deeply from Adin Swift’s lithe body. But Adin adroitly slid away from her. “What’s gotten into you?” His frown deepened as he studied her. Then, in alarm, he breathed, “Jesus!” The exclamation and the look on his face made Rahenna pause. Feeling dizzy, she reeled a bit. The tip of her tongue touched something in her mouth that should not have been there. Two sharp points. Fangs. Stumbling backward, she put her hands to her face. What was happening to her? Fangs only emerged in Pagan Breed vampires during the birthing process. But these… these had spontaneously grown as her wrath and hunger grew. What’s more, almost every reaction she’d had to Adin, almost every word she’d spoken to him, had been utterly uncharacteristic of her. Face covered, Rahenna dropped to her knees. Her shoulders sagged in shame. She felt the fangs dull as they receded into common canine teeth. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured, quaking. “I don’t know what --” But she did know. Inigo’s bite had delivered some kind of infection. Those four or five months of hazy numbness and near-dormancy hadn’t healed her. Not fully. The period of

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inactivity might have restored her physical vigor, but it had also allowed his toxins to saturate her cells. She’d sensed it the moment she emerged from her dreamless sleep. If she hadn’t felt so driven to see Adin, she would have immediately sought the counsel and the aid of an elder. With some hesitation, Adin walked over and knelt beside her in the grass. “What’s happened to you?” he asked with genuine concern. “Something’s changed you.” Taking a deep breath, Rahenna lifted her head and pushed the hair back from her face. The attack caused by whatever bad blood now coursed through her veins seemed to be over. “I fed off a man in the Azores. At least I thought he was a man. Now I’m not sure what he was. I only remember that he turned on me while we were having sex.” “Another vampire?” Adin asked. “Some kind of were-creature or shifter?” Rahenna shook her head. “I don’t know. Truly, I don’t know. The experience was something completely alien to me.” It made her ache to look at him. Adin was beautiful -- by far the most alluring of all the males she’d ever birthed -- and, yes, she had been smitten by him. She’d thought about him a great deal over the centuries, and each time his image formed in her mind it made a little stitch in her heart. But she’d never considered going after him. Pride in herself and fondness for him made her maintain a proper, respectful distance. That was how a birth master or mistress of her breed behaved. They didn’t attempt to use or abuse or assert any kind of mastery over their children. Had Adin wanted them to reconnect, Rahenna knew, he would have found her. As much as she might have longed for that to happen, it never had. So she’d simply fallen back on her Pagan Breed stoicism and resigned herself to his independence. Until now, that is. No wonder Adin had been so suspicious of her appearance here. She’d never before sought him out.

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He was still studying her, likely pondering what she’d just told him. “I don’t understand. You’re a grand elder. How could you have let your guard down to that degree? How could you not have sensed what that… man-thing was about?” “Your reversion,” Rahenna said. “It apparently took place while I was with Inigo. And, to say the least, it distracted me.” She wanted to grasp Adin’s hand, just to feel him, but decided against it. “Did you ever birth anyone?” “No,” he said immediately. “I didn’t want the responsibility. I had other things on my mind.” That provoked a grudging smile from Rahenna. She couldn’t help but admire Adin for his self-discipline. He truly had been a man on a mission. “Well, my darling, if you’ve never been a birth master, then you can’t begin to imagine how it feels to lose one of your offspring… either to life or death. A good number of my vampyrii met their ends during the Inquisition. It nearly crippled me.” No longer self-contained and dismissive, Adin was clearly intrigued. “It’s that overwhelming?” “Yes, it’s that overwhelming.” Still a bit shaken, Rahenna decided to remain seated on her haunches. She was afraid that if she tried standing, Adin would feel obligated to help her up. She didn’t want to put him in that position. Not after she’d nearly lunged at him. His gaze continued to scour her face. “So you’re saying, when you were with this Inigo creature --” “He had me at a great disadvantage. While you approached and underwent your reversion, I wasn’t in possession of myself. Not my mind, not my body, not even my basic nature. I was essentially with you, I suppose. And I was in pain. Maybe he sensed my weakness, because that’s when he attacked me.” Rahenna hazarded a glance directly into Adin’s eyes. It wasn’t a wise thing to do. He still moved her in a way he shouldn’t have. “How was it for you?” she asked quietly, referring to his change. She wanted to feel solicitous, not salacious.

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Adin lowered his gaze. It brought Rahenna some relief. “It was a strange feeling,” he murmured, obviously remembering. “Disorienting. And painful.” When he looked up again, his eyes danced with light. “But I had so much to celebrate at that point, and so much to live for --” You barely felt it. “I understand,” Rahenna broke in, because she didn’t want to hear more. The smile she gave him felt less natural than the first one. Truth be told, she did feel a twinge of jealousy. Not envy, really -- Rahenna had no desire to be mortal again -- but a little twist of sourness over the fact that another being had brought him happiness. And was enjoying the succulent fruits of his sensuality. As if movement could redirect her thoughts, Rahenna mustered her strength and rose to her feet. Adin followed. “Will you be all right?” “I think so. These… outbreaks seem to be sporadic. And somewhat controllable.” Rahenna spoke the truth. The infection Inigo had delivered wasn’t a constant affliction. It flared and sputtered. Evidently, strong emotion or physical attraction, maybe both, served as a trigger. She remembered the well-built blond man sitting across the aisle from her on the plane to Chicago, how he’d stimulated a kind of restless yearning in her. She’d even considered delaying the next leg of her journey so she could follow and seduce him… or simply overpower him. But she’d managed to suppress the urge. So she clearly could manage the flare-ups to some degree. After all, she had an enormous reservoir of will. Rahenna sighed. “Now I just have to figure out what this virus is all about and how to rid myself of it.” She brushed at her jeans, shook out her hair. With a musing smile, Adin watched her. “You are stunning, you know. And I did fall in love with you in a way, for a little while.” “But not the way you love your new partner.” A light blush tinctured his cheeks. “No, not in that way.” “Have you made a lifelong commitment?”

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His gaze didn’t waver. “Yes.” “Is it a man or a woman?” Rahenna assumed Adin’s mate was female, since he’d once been married. But he’d gone through a great many experiences since then, and most vampires ended up being bisexual. He confirmed her assumption. “A woman. A very special woman.” Rahenna nodded. She needed to hear and absorb these truths. Her desire for Adin Swift had to be quashed, especially while she was under the influence of an ugly contagion she didn't understand and could only haphazardly control. The reason she needed to defuse that desire had become terrifyingly clear today. As long as Adin had such a profoundly inflammatory effect on her, he was in grave danger. “Where is your lady, by the way?” she asked. “Out shopping.” Finally, Adin smiled. “My thirtieth birthday is tomorrow. We’re having a party.” Groaning, Rahenna closed her eyes and put a hand to her forehead. “Oh no.” “Raney, believe me, it isn’t a cause for mourning,” he said with a chuckle. “That’s not it.” She limply dropped her hand to her hip and looked at him, wondering how to phrase her next bulletin. “I apologize for being unsociable,” Adin said, his amusement waning, “but I want you to leave when our conversation here is over. And I want you to stay away. Far away. From now on. You’re part of a past I’d rather forget.” Rahenna arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really now. You’re telling me I’m unwelcome at your party?” “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. I’m sure I don’t have to explain why. And your recent… problem would make your presence even more unwelcome.” Smugness stole into Rahenna’s expression. “You might want to rethink that, Adin.” She could almost see his ire rise before he asked, “Are you threatening me?”

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“No.” Damn it all, but he was a defiant bastard. Foolishly so. She could crush him like an insect, now that he’d been stripped of all supernatural abilities. “I’m actually trying to help you.” Adin barked out a single laugh. It told Rahenna that whatever concern and sympathy he’d felt for her had evaporated. And why not? He knew her condition wasn’t fatal, only that it was dangerous. Now that his burst of caring had passed, he was simply a man bent on protecting his loved ones. Seaming her lips, Rahenna lifted her arms and dropped them. “All right, have it your way. But I doubt any of your guests will make as effective a bouncer as I would be.” That knocked the defiance out of Mr. Swift… for the moment, anyway. “What are you talking about?” he asked. His voice had dwindled to a near-whisper. “Adin, even I couldn’t keep me away. I will be here. It’s your first real birthday since your reversion. And, whether you like it or not, you’re going to have other uninvited guests.” She gave him a taunting smile. “Now, if you’ll rescind your ban, I’ll see to it your human friends aren’t, um, harassed by the party crashers.” She’d almost said “exsanguinated.”

Chapter Three She had to be there. The lure, hardwired into her, was impossible to resist. She’d been Adin’s birth mistress. For her, being at this party was tantamount to a mother attending the funeral of her child. Rahenna had explained that to Adin yesterday, before she’d told him what else to expect. Other vampires brought into being during the same period and in roughly the same area -- the south of England, the north of France -- could very well appear. Reversion was a rare and powerful occurrence that sent a rippling shock through each loose “clan” of vampires bound by their time and place of birth. It was something like a psychic earthquake. Curiosity, if nothing else, would draw the blood drinkers to Adin’s party. After all, he’d been one of them for over six hundred years. They wouldn’t precisely be celebrating his first birthday since his reversion, but they’d certainly be observing it with keen interest. Rahenna couldn’t estimate just how intrusive the vampyrii presence would be. She suspected it would vary from individual to individual. Some might not show up at all. Disgust, distress or pure indifference would keep them away. Others might only hover for a while in the shadows and then depart. Yet others might be bold and inquisitive enough to mingle with the guests. Vampires were by nature solitary creatures who usually avoided unwanted attention. Usually, but not always. Would the human guests be in danger? Quite possibly, since the immortals that did show up would all have been birthed in the fourteenth century. The Plague Breed, in particular, could be very nasty indeed if their nature wasn’t tempered by some other bloodline. Usually, though, it was. That’s why humans were generally safe around

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vampires. Only a debased-breed member would pose a threat, and only if his tainted blood was unmixed with a more refined strain. In that regard, Adin had been fortunate to have had Rahenna as a birth mistress. The humans with whom he’d come into contact had been even more fortunate. His more civilized traits had been dominant; his more brutal traits, recessive. Whenever he’d fed on people, he’d only done it if and when his intimate attention had been invited. Given his looks and intelligence, he’d certainly enjoyed no lack of such invitations. Rahenna thought of all these things as she hovered over and around Adin’s house on the afternoon of his thirtieth birthday. Her final duty as his birth mistress would be to keep him and his guests safe on this unique occasion. And then? She hadn’t given much thought to where she would go or what she would do next. Return to Ireland, perhaps, and mourn in private. Then try to find out more about the nature of her infection and how to overcome it. Each time she looked at Adin, each time the mere sight of him made her pussy moisten and swell, she toyed with the idea of giving in to her germ-induced dementia. She owed him nothing, really. Not anymore. In fact, once this party was over, he would owe her. She could demand payment of the debt through his flesh and muscle, his blood and seed. It was a deliciously vicious notion -- taking him by force and getting him hard and making him come, watching surrender wash through his face, feeling it paralyze his limbs. Raping Adin Swift and watching him enjoy it. And, by the gods, he would enjoy it. As his engorged cock contracted and contracted, shooting out cream, her bite would make him cry out in ecstasy and jerk and stiffen and come even harder. And, as Rahenna watched the bright rivulets of blood trickle down the mounds of his bare chest, she would ride wave after wave of her own unparalleled ecstasy. Just thinking about it coaxed her to the brink of orgasm… until she realized that in her fantasy, she had fangs. She didn’t draw Adin’s blood by piercing his flesh with

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one or two or even three fingernails, which was her breed’s normal method, but by biting into it. The thought disgusted Rahenna, but not nearly as much as it should have. Rather, it reminded her of birthing Adin -- something she did through piercing and biting -- and how explosively exciting the process had been. She floated to the ground just within the sheltering woods and, hand to forehead, wilted against the trunk of a sugar maple. I must stop this, she told herself. I can’t treat him that way. I can’t even consider treating him that way. I’m dishonoring myself and my peers by even thinking such things. I could be terminated with prejudice if I violated one of my own offspring. And a more wicked voice countered, He’s no longer your offspring, just an enticing mortal man. A headache drummed against her temples. Closing her eyes, Rahenna took several deep breaths. She opened her eyes and gazed at the froth of brilliantly colored leaves overhead. Better. She felt much better. Invisible as the wind, she once again approached and circled the chalet. It was a perfect Indian-summer day. The pure-blue sky looked like watered silk, and the trees’ foliage glowed like backlit jewels. Soon, though, the sun would set and vampires would begin arriving. Rahenna caught occasional glimpses of Adin’s woman, whose name was Celia. She was a pretty blonde who somehow reminded Rahenna of a nature sprite. Maybe it was her age -- around twenty-five, most likely -- combined with her trim figure and elfin hairstyle. She and Adin did make a striking couple, so much so that it caused Rahenna something like physical pain to see them together. Especially when they touched. They touched often and very affectionately, but with an unmistakable simmer of passion beneath the deceptively sweet surface of their contact.

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Adin did seem a bit distracted, however. He was certainly aware of Rahenna’s presence and certainly anticipating the arrival of the others. She could not let him down. It fortified her resolve to keep reminding herself how much she adored him. More vehicles pulled up and parked on the long gravel drive -- pickup trucks, SUVs, motorcycles, cars. They were both new and used, just as the guests were both young and old. Rahenna heard much laughter and conversation, both inside and outside the house. Music issued from one of the rooms. On the patio, two older gentlemen and a woman stood in front of a large gas grill. Celia and two other women ferried plates and bowls of food into and out of the house. People clustered into small groups and broke apart, drifted indoors and out, sat on patio furniture or strolled around the yard. Alcoholic beverages seemed plentiful. Fragrant smoke wafted through the brisk air. Rahenna had considered adopting a new form -- that of a kitten, perhaps, so she could gain immediate acceptance at the party, without bothersome questions -- but she soon rejected the idea. If vampires of ill intent did make an appearance, she would need to act quickly. Shape-shifting was always an impediment to action. Besides, Rahenna felt quite lovely as herself. She was wearing a pale jade dress today, its shirred bodice very flattering to her breasts, its somewhat clingy skirt very flattering to her ass. She’d put her hair up to emphasize the graceful lines of her neck. If she did end up circulating among the party guests, she wanted, like any other woman, to look her best. Even after all her time on earth, she still found admiration gratifying. She and Adin had decided yesterday to introduce her, if need be, as one of his clients, a researcher affiliated with a university for which he regularly did translation work. Rahenna had forgotten to ask if Celia knew about Adin’s past and, specifically, about her role in it. She hoped they could bypass those matters entirely. Inevitably, the sun dropped lower in the sky. Woodland shadows thickened. On one of her passes over the driveway, Rahenna noticed a new arrival who was so striking, he immediately snagged her attention. Careful not to be seen, she alit on the ground and followed him, as if she too were a guest who’d just gotten there.

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Grinning, Adin jogged up to the man before he was anywhere near the front door. “Jackson, you witchy son of a bitch, you’re here! Shit, I’m glad.” He warmly embraced his friend, whose braided hair not only had a rich, bronze sheen but fell nearly to the top of his extremely delectable ass. Rahenna heard the man murmur, “Happy birthday, Adin. Finally. You don’t look any worse for your several months of wear.” He had a black-velvet voice with a burlap edge. His greeting was droll… and intriguing. Fascinated, Rahenna debated with herself whether to step from behind the man’s broad back and make her presence known, or simply follow him until she had a chance to introduce herself. The recently implanted monster stirred in her blood. Her nipples tightened. A slurry of wetness slicked her cunt. Adin decided the introduction issue. His face fell when he spotted her, prompting his friend to turn around. “Hello, Adin,” she said, striving for a tone that suggested both personal warmth and professional distance. Smiling, she extended her hand. “Happy birthday… and many more to come.” As Adin took her hand, his gaze skipped toward his friend, who was watching Rahenna with a curious half-smile. Adin tried to give her a casual welcome. “Raney… uh… what a pleasant surprise. I didn’t think you’d be able to make it.” “Raney,” the other man repeated, still watching her. “That’s short for… what?” Gathering her wits was nearly impossible. If Adin was purely beautiful, this man was starkly, darkly killer-handsome. Eyes, nose, mouth, facial hair -- every feature suggested intensity and power. But there was something even more mesmerizing about him, an unseen element that gave his allure an undertone of mystery. Even menace. He wasn’t a vampire. Rahenna was certain of that. He was definitely mortal. “It’s short for Miranda,” she improvised. Her hunger swelled. Being near both these men at once was almost more than she could bear. She felt her nipples straining

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against the fabric of her dress. She could’ve sworn Adin’s friend noticed, although he wasn’t gauche enough to stare directly at her breasts. Who was this creature? When, where, how had Adin met him? They seemed quite close, so it was entirely possible that the man knew -Adin interrupted her thoughts. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be discourteous. “Raney, this is an old friend of mine --” At that moment, a delighted female voice called out, “Jackson!” The man looked toward the front door and beamed. Celia walked toward him, arms extended. He caught her up, lifted her off the ground, nuzzled his face in the slope of her neck. He murmured something in her ear that elicited a spill of honeyed, contralto laughter. “Never,” she answered. When the man released Celia, she hitched up her shoulders and shivered, hugging her midsection. “Still the bringer of goosebumps,” she said, looking into his eyes. “But not a bringer of presents,” Adin noted. “Cheap fuck.” “Hey, watch your mouth, birthday boy.” The man named Jackson pointed down the driveway. “I just might have a nice little something for you in my vehicle if you mind your manners.” “Oh, shit,” Adin said, “speaking of minding my manners… Raney, I’m sorry. This is Celia Quill, the love of my life. She only cheats on me with this man.” He nodded toward his friend as he curled an arm -- protectively, Rahenna thought -around Celia’s waist. “Jackson Spey.” He provided, thank the gods, the perfect diversion from that scene of domestic bliss being played out in front of Rahenna’s eyes. She exchanged greetings with Adin’s lady love, then was about to offer Jackson Spey her hand when Adin suddenly grabbed it. He seemed edgy. “Come on, both of you,” he said. “Let’s go join the party.” Frowning, Rahenna hung back as Mr. Spey and Ms. Quill headed into the house. About to follow them, Adin hesitated then turned back to her. Jackson glanced over his shoulder at them before walking through the door.

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Adin guided Rahenna around the corner of the house to a recessed doorway. He looked directly into her eyes. “Don’t touch that man,” he said quietly but firmly. “And I mean not so much as a handshake. Not so much as your knees brushing together beneath a table.” Half irked and half amused, she lifted her brows. “Why? He looks quite sturdy. I doubt he’ll break.” Adin lifted a cautionary forefinger in front of her face. “Don’t. Touch him. Not for a second.” He lowered his hand. “You need to take me seriously, Raney. Steer clear of him.” He looked around at the dimming sky. “Have any of them shown up yet?” Rahenna knew what he meant, although she’d momentarily forgotten her reason for being here. Her beast had definitely grown restive. “No. It’s still a little too early. Now tell me why I’m not to touch your friend.” “I can’t get into that now.” “So I’m simply to let myself be ordered about, like a child?” “Cut the petulant bullshit,” Adin hissed. “Just trust me.” His anger excited her. Before Rahenna could think, her hand shot out and curled behind his head. She pulled him forward, crushing her mouth against his. Adin’s lips were a soft, humid pillow. She felt the delicate warm pumping of blood through their capillaries. Exquisite. Delicious. But he wasn’t returning the kiss. His mouth remained closed beneath hers, his lips motionless. She pressed and rubbed her breasts against his chest, the tough mounds of muscle resistant to her soft flesh. The feel of his hard nipples sliding across hers drove her wild. But despite his quickened breathing, Adin was trying to push her away. Rahenna wouldn’t allow it. Now far stronger than he, she easily had the upper hand. “Get off me,” he grated. Her rape fantasy resurfaced with a vengeance. She felt the fangs emerge, their rapier points grazing the lining of her upper lip. Her fingers tightened in Adin’s silken

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hair, forcing his head back, exposing his throat. Simultaneously, her free hand slithered to his crotch. He had an incipient erection. Desire for him roared through her body. And then her body was being forced away from his, as if a large wedge had been driven between them. Startled, gasping for air, Rahenna doubled over. Something was pushing forcefully at the anterior side of her body, something she could neither see nor touch. Suddenly, she was shoved backward so abruptly that she tumbled to the ground. Bewildered, she peered up at Adin through a thin veil of fallen hair. He was drooped forward, panting, staring at her with almost palpable scorn. “I’m sorry,” Rahenna whispered. “I couldn’t seem to stop myself.” What else could she say? “Save it,” Adin snapped. He straightened, forking his hands through his hair. “That,” he said, shooting a forefinger in her direction, “is precisely why you need to stay away from Jackson Spey. The two of you could really do some damage to each other.” A tall figure stepped out of the shadows. He extended a hand to help Rahenna up. As soon as she grasped it, something like an electric shock sizzled up her arm and along the length of her spine. When she tried to jerk her hand away, she couldn’t. She faltered to her feet and gaped at Adin’s friend. “I would love like hell to fuck you to kingdom come,” he said calmly, “but you seem to have a serious lack of impulse control.” Breaking free, Rahenna squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. Her hands balled into fists. “God damn it, I have to find a cure for this!” “Try killing one of the ‘uninvited’ guests,” Spey suggested in the same wry tone. “It did the trick for Adin.” “That’s not what I’m talking about,” Rahenna muttered. Forehead furrowing, she looked at him more pointedly. “You know?” He answered with three languid nods. “About Adin? About me?”

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Two more nods. “Adin and I have been friends for a decade or so. And we talked on the phone last night.” Spey leaned one shoulder against the edge of the doorway, casually crossing his arms and legs. He continued to watch her. The barest hint of a smile toyed with one corner of his mouth. “I’m beginning to wonder if there even will be party crashers. Or if you just sort of --” he pursed his lips for a second “-- invented a big, fat vampire scare so Adin would invite you here. For protection, of course. You do seem to like him an awful lot.” “How dare you call me a liar!” Infuriated by Spey’s implication, Rahenna stepped toward him. Another invisible force pushed her back, but more gently this time. She was about to ask, What the hell are you? when the answer came to her. “You’re a bloody wizard,” she whispered. Spey shrugged. “Everybody’s got to be something.” He stood straight, cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders. “I just wish you wouldn’t use that adjective in conjunction with any reference to me.” Wearily, Adin chuckled in his pocket of darkness. Darkness. Rahenna tensed. They were coming.

Chapter Four A corps of Plague-born vampires converged on the property at once. Little more than intermittent, pale-red streaks in the darkness, they circled the house, shot over the woods, swooped over the heads of the oblivious partiers who happened to be outside. Four of the uninvited quickly shifted into bats, two into crows. One became a coyote, pacing just inside the tree line. A few of the more attractive vampires simply strolled around the property in their own forms, maybe expecting to seduce an inebriated guest or make arrangements for a later, private hook-up. The more malign were scouting for opportunities, hoping to spy a lone mortal wandering down the driveway or straying too far from the group of revelers. Rahenna knew she must target these hunters first. The merely curious could fly or skulk about as much as they pleased. She could easily discern the vampires’ origins and distinguish the hybrids from the pure breeds. In fact, she’d encountered many of them before. The coyote was in fact a pale-haired, pale-eyed female named Joan Tender who hailed from Somerset. Although birthed during the Plague, she also bore a Barbarian strain certainly inherited from her birth master -- Viking, Rahenna guessed. That didn’t augur well. She’d be aggressive, merciless. Rahenna flew to the female and swirled around her. “Leave… or suffer,” she hissed, infusing the words with her power. The vampire snarled at the command but knew better than to defy it. She shifted into human form and spat out, “Murderer’s whore!” before disappearing into the depthless night. As Rahenna watched Joan depart, she was surprised to see other vampires leaving, too, shooting into the sky like bottle rockets. Were they aware of her presence?

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Had they seen or overheard her banishment of Joan? Or was there just too little chance of feasting at this gathering? She made another circuit of the property and saw a dapper Flemish vampire named Gerard, whom she’d met in the 1660s, deep in conversation with a young woman. Cannily, he led her away from the lantern-strung patio into the clotted darkness of the yard. For all his superficial suavity, he was pure Plague Breed, utterly cynical and amoral. Rahenna wondered how to get rid of him without frightening his companion. Already invisible to the mortals here -- at least, when she chose to be -- she sank her nails into Gerard’s neck but didn’t break his skin. He stopped, stiffened. “Go to the woods, now,” she breathed into his ear. “You need to relieve yourself.” “Excuse me,” he said to his companion, “but I have to answer Nature’s call.” “I’ll wait for you here,” she called after him as he jogged toward the woods. Still clinging to Gerard like a skewed, fluttering necktie, Rahenna wanted to make certain he was many paces inside the woods before she issued her command. The vampire startled her by shifting into a large rat. It was one of the Plague Breed’s alternate forms… and all too appropriate. The thing’s filthy, rank pelt so revolted Rahenna that she withdrew by a foot or two. The rat reared up and dove at her, front claws outstretched, pointed yellow incisors bared and prepared to bite. “Leave or suffer,” Rahenna growled, dodging out of striking distance in the nick of time. She wanted to mangle the creature, but that would take too long and likely create a ruckus. “Suffer?” the rat-thing repeated in a high, dry voice. “I’ll show you what suffering is, you meddlesome bitch.” “Idiot,” Rahenna sneered. Extending her arms forward and opening her mouth to twice its normal size, she spewed a black cloud of pain and pure force from her fingertips and throat. Writhing and squealing, the rat somersaulted and slammed against a tree trunk. As it came to a

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rest, it shifted back into Gerard. He sent a yellow glare of rage and hatred at Rahenna before launching himself into the air and speeding away. Several more vampires flew up from the treetops like sparks. Rahenna straightened and smoothed her dress, tried to fix her hair. As she stepped through the underbrush, someone close by murmured, “Good work.” She looked to her right. A slender male vampire with longish, wavy blond hair sat with his back against a hickory tree. Another male approached and leaned against the same tree. He had short, dark hair and a narrow beard that grew down from his sideburns and followed his jaw line. There was a speck of blood on his upper lip. “Thank you,” Rahenna said. Both men were quite comely, and both were mixed breeds -- genteel ones, thank goodness. “You must be here to preserve, protect and defend,” the fair one said. “Yes, as a matter of fact.” “I’m Stephen,” he went on. “English, and Pagan dominant. As Mr. Swift was.” He gestured toward his companion. “This is Jourdain, from Montreuil. He has dominant Ancient blood. Egyptian, I believe. Of course we’re both Plague Breed recessive, which is why we’re here.” The Frenchman gave Rahenna a small bow and charming, somewhat enigmatic smile. She liked his prominent cheekbones and gray eyes, their lashes as dark as his hair. His tongue crept out and moved over the dot of blood on his lip, lingering over it longer than was necessary to lick it off, as he kept his heavy-lidded gaze fixed on Rahenna’s eyes. Jourdain was being blatantly seductive. With a knowing half-smile, Stephen bent one leg and casually draped an arm over his crotch. “Well, you seem like fairly harmless pleasure-seekers,” Rahenna said, her tone droll and suggestive. Desire had begun to froth through her blood, intensified by the men’s focused attention. It seemed to heat the air around her.

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“A vampire of honor never takes what isn’t offered to him,” Jourdain said. His hypnotically deep voice was mildly accented. “Might you have something to offer, dear lady?” Stephen crawled up to her on his hands and knees. Kneeling at her feet, he slowly slid his hands up her bare legs, over her ass and belly, down her mons. His thumbnails stirred the hair before his fingers crept to her pussy. Gently parting its lips, he glided his knuckles backward along either side of her swollen bud. Then he eased his middle finger into her vagina and slowly rotated that finger, caressing the canal’s walls. Smiling up at her as he removed his hand, he sat back on his rump and unzipped his jeans. He pulled out his thickening cock and caressingly ran his middle finger down the length of it, painting the shaft with Rahenna’s glistening moisture. “Yes, Jourdain,” he said with less breath, “I think she has very much to offer.” Head reeling, Rahenna wanted to spring at both of them. She wanted to thrust Stephen’s cock into her mouth, sink her fangs into it, and suck down blood-laced cum until she felt drunk on it. And then she would spread her legs for Jourdain so he could lick scarlet droplets off her lips while he fucked her senseless. Just as Rahenna was about to give in to her cravings, a scream cut through the silence. It came from somewhere near the house. Anything could be happening in this inky darkness. Most of the Plague Breed vampires seemed to have fled, but there could be a straggler or two who’d escaped her notice. And they might be determined to take advantage of this hunting ground. Tearing herself away from the two alluring men, Rahenna rushed to the chalet… and nearly wailed in vexation when she got there. A man clutching a fistful of melting ice cubes chased a giggling woman to the patio doors. She awkwardly grabbed at the back of her shirt with one hand as she tried to open a door with the other. Chunks of ice clattered to the floor of the patio as she disappeared into the house. Feeling half-crazed with frustration, Rahenna made a final flight over and through the woods and around the empty yard. Finally, the vampyrii who harbored nefarious motives were gone. She hadn’t found it necessary to scare away the more

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benign, who hunkered in the sheltering darkness beneath the canopy of trees. Maybe some were feeding off the local wildlife. Maybe some, like Stephen and Jourdain, were finding sexual release through other vampires. But the fact they hadn’t departed meant they felt drawn to the conviviality of the party. An immortal generally led a lonely life. Even Rahenna, long accustomed to that life, had to admit that the golden light now spilling from the chalet’s windows looked warm and welcoming. She was about to descend to the lawn when something caught her eye. Easing down, she alit on the roof of the house and peered into the backyard. Adin had come out onto the patio. He turned off the grill. Jackson Spey rounded the corner of the house. Smiling, the two men immediately approached one another. Like magnet and steel, Rahenna thought, wondering why she had a sense of that kind of attraction. She waited to hear the words they spoke… and soon realized she couldn’t. Normally, with acutely trained concentration, Rahenna would have been able to listen in on their conversation. Her sense of hearing was as keen as her other senses. But their voices were silent to her ears. She suspected the wizard was shielding Adin and himself from any eavesdropping. But why? The reason quickly became clear. Spey’s hand suddenly slid to the back of Adin’s head, into his hair. They looked as if they were about to kiss. Magnet and steel indeed. The air instantly thickened with sexual tension, with unfulfilled, long-simmering desire. Like tongues of flame, it lapped at Rahenna’s cool skin. Her pussy creamed as she waited to see what would happen. Her respiration accelerated. The points of emerging fangs touched her lower lip. By the gods, how she wanted to have both these men while they had each other! It required a titanic exercise of will to keep from swooping down on them. She knew she should stop watching -- the temptation was unbearable -- but the potential here for spontaneous, unbridled passion was riveting. Still, both men kept reining in that passion. The strain on their control was palpable.

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Jackson’s hand finally fell to his side. He and Adin again spoke in tones Rahenna couldn’t hear. She saw Adin raise a hand to the other man’s chest. It was an intimate gesture, perhaps even covetous. He said something in reply. Within moments, Spey turned away. He dropped into a nearby chair, his legs parted, and grasped his head in both hands. Adin walked over and squatted before him, bracing himself on the other man’s knees. They exchanged more words. Clearly, Adin was cajoling Jackson. Rahenna could only imagine why he was trying so hard to be persuasive. She felt Adin’s hunger for the man. It gripped her as surely as it gripped him. She felt the restlessness that shimmied through his loins and stirred his cock. It drove her to distraction. Her mind shouted to Spey. Give in to it, damn you! As if in response to her silent command, Jackson shook his head. Soon, he rose to his feet and Adin followed suit. A new feeling slammed against her -- Jackson’s arousal. Adin’s closeness and Adin’s words had stirred him. He was struggling to ignore the lure of his friend. He wanted Adin as much as Adin wanted him. Each man’s hoarded desire seemed to bounce off the other’s, like two balloons bloated with water. Jackson gave Adin a quick, fraternal pat on the shoulder. Then, shoving his hands in pockets, he turned away and sauntered off toward the woods. Adin watched him for a moment before re-entering the house. Rahenna did fly from her perch then, her cunt wet and pulsing with monstrous lust. She landed softly some ten feet behind the wizard. “Jackson.” Alert as a jungle cat, he spun to face her. “Where did you come from?” Rahenna sidled up to him. “I was just making certain all the uninvited guests are gone.” His arousal was waning, but she could still smell it. “Do you really want to fuck me?” His gaze was direct, cool. “Not anymore.” He sounded distracted. “Why? I know you’re not afraid of me. It’s obvious you can take care of yourself.” Her hand cupped his crotch, which felt very well filled-out. His cock must still be semi-erect. Her body sang at the feel of him, the look of him.

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“And take care of myself I shall,” he said, wrapping long fingers firmly around her wrist and easing her hand aside. “You know it’s not going to feel nearly as good, though. You know it will be like a wavering little match-flame compared with a forest fire.” His eyes changed. Rahenna had no idea how, but they did. A faint golden glow pulsed from the irises. “Yes, I do know,” he said. “Then let me feed from you. And you can fuck me to kingdom come while I do.” His glassy calm couldn’t be broken. “Sorry, but I only donate to brick-andmortar blood banks.” Rahenna felt a trembling tension in her facial muscles. “Bullshit. I’m certain you’ve let a vampire have you. At least once. I can sense it in you.” Jackson didn’t say anything and didn’t have to. Instead, those weirdly eloquent eyes, shimmering down at her, spoke for him. He was horny at the moment and attracted to her, and he hated being horny and attracted to her. This exchange was exhausting his already overtaxed self-control. Rahenna wasn’t intimidated. She was captivated and acutely excited. She continued to prod him. “You probably yearned to experience the feed. Or maybe you knew it could enhance your power. Or both.” Spey’s features seemed to harden, but just fractionally. The dark, down-curving mustache and goatee made him look tantalizingly sinister, even wicked. His hand rose and tightened around the base of her jaw. “Rahenna, I’ve never been bitten by a goddamned vampire and I don’t intend to be. So let it go.” He lowered his hand. “Not bitten,” she echoed. Realization dawned. “Ah, not bitten… pierced. That’s it, isn’t it?” Lapsing into stubborn silence, he turned away. Rahenna grabbed his arm. It was warm and solid, radiating strength. “Was it Adin?” She really didn’t expect, or need, an answer. “Of course it was Adin. The two of you are obviously very close.”

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Spey’s muscles tensed beneath her hand before he jerked his arm away. “I said, let it go.” She didn’t want to let it go. Didn’t want to let him go. This man utterly enchanted her. “When I’m… myself again, may I come to you? May I pierce and drink from you?” Sighing, he momentarily closed his eyes. “Lady, I would have no fucking way of knowing if you were really ‘yourself’ again or just faking it. And if those fangs were to pop, I’d have to hurt you. Believe me, neither one of us wants that to happen. Now leave me alone.” He turned away from her and kept walking toward the woods. Her mouth curved into a wry smile. Foolish man. Little did he know how “those fangs” had been growing since she’d witnessed the patio encounter. Rahenna thought she detected something ripple along the lines of her back without touching it. The pressure was like the push of a breeze but somehow more directed. She’d been feeling it, sporadically, all day. Maybe it was that teeth-gnashing beast, urging her to go after Jackson Spey. Maybe she’d been resisting its demands too strenuously for too long, letting her sense of responsibility and the flotsam of her delicate sensibilities get in the way of what she needed most. Maybe the beast was saying, Fuck all this simpering reluctance. It’s time to take care of business. Within seconds, she bounded into the air and flew at Spey like one of the Furies, determined to reap the fruits of the desire Adin had sown. A high-pitched, delirious squeal shot from her throat. The wizard jerked to his left, looked up over his shoulder. Rahenna was on him before he could possibly know what was happening. Her arms laced across his chest, her clawed hands scrabbling at the hard rises of his pectoral muscles. Her legs wrapped around his narrow waist. She wanted to sink her whole body into him, suck the blood directly from his heart. Spey was obviously strong. He bent but didn’t buckle under her weight. Just as she dove for his damp, corded neck -- her mouth opening, her fangs ready to drive into his flesh -- the wizard threw his arms and shoulders back and bellowed, “Be gone!”

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A sizzling, neon-green whirlwind seemed to engulf her. Rahenna felt her whole body being twisted like rope. Shrieking, she catapulted into the air. She struggled to reorient herself, regain her equilibrium so she could either land softly or launch herself at Spey once more. She would have him, maybe even take Adin later, and she would not be denied. But something caught her in midair. Like a blanket thrown over a careering bat, something trapped her and stilled her flailing arms and kicking legs. She felt herself being moved. When her feet touched earth again, she wobbled a bit. The back of Adin’s house was just ahead of her, the woods far behind, and Jackson Spey was nowhere to be seen. Rahenna was again aware of some force, like the convex skin of a bubble, pressing at her back. She whirled around. Something or someone was behind her. She was sure of it. Standing stock-still, she focused her senses. Peepers and crickets chorused around her. Their calls were getting slower and thinner as the season advanced. Critters, or maybe vampires, sent up an occasional rustle within the depths of the woods. The mild pungency of distant wood-smoke scented the air. The odd feeling, or whoever was responsible for it, went away. So, there was someone else here whose presence Rahenna hadn’t anticipated. It was apparent this mystery creature was very old or very cunning or both, since it had managed to keep its presence largely concealed from her. That also meant it didn’t share Adin’s region or period of birth, and its power far outstripped that of any other vampire who’d come calling this evening. She was sure, now, that this same invisible entity had been following her since her arrival, its essence vibrating against her back like the lowest tone of a massive pipe organ. But what was it? And where did it go?

Chapter Five Escaping the night’s chill, the remaining party guests were all clustered indoors. They had been for over an hour. Rahenna heard voices and music collide within the first-floor walls of the house. Boisterous laughter occasionally shot from the sea of noise like a cork. It was drunkie-wunkie time. She wondered if Adin was getting even more intoxicated and, if so, how she could use it to her advantage. She still wanted him. Badly. Once again wrestling with her burdensome conscience, she cast it aside. Her appetite had been sorely whetted these past two days. It was like salivation that wouldn’t stop. Not, that is, until she got something into her mouth. Warm flesh. Hot blood. Some friend Jackson Spey was. If she’d been able to feed off him and feel his big, meaty rod fill her, Adin might be assured of a good night’s sleep. Taking several aimless steps, she looked around then felt her attention drawn upward. It was her follower. She knew so immediately. It was a “he” and he was a vampire. Silently, he stood on the deck outside the master bedroom and surveyed the yard, the forest and, for all she knew, the expanse of earth that curved to the horizon. He looked magisterial without seeming pompous -- looked, in fact, like he didn’t have a wisp of desire to impress anybody, or even to be noticed. He was a tower of selfpossession and indifference. Undeniably intrigued, Rahenna trained her vision on him. The vampire was perhaps a few inches over six feet. His facial features were both coarse and elegant, and the combination made him inexplicably handsome in an unconventional way, like the Heathcliff of Rahenna’s imagination. His riotous, jet-black hair tumbled in haphazard curls to the tops of his shoulders. His eyes were a vivid, startling blue. Unlike the rich

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indigo of Adin’s irises, which seemed to invite immersion, this color seemed to hold the world’s population at bay. Yet there was nothing threatening in the vampire’s demeanor. Rahenna had no intrinsic fear of him. She considered the possibility he might be waiting for her to approach him. So she did. Without giving the matter further thought, she relocated to the deck, knowing her movement wouldn’t be noticed by anybody but him. At first he didn’t acknowledge her presence, although he was certainly aware of it. Rahenna remained quiet. She, too, gazed over the landscape. The trees’ crowns, silhouetted against the flat sky, looked like black lace sewn onto faded gray satin. Lovely… “Lovely,” the vampire repeated in a low voice. He inhaled audibly. “But stricken.” Resting his hands on the deck railing, he turned his head to regard her. What did he mean? “Who are you?” Rahenna asked. “Why are you here? What’s your intent?” He met her questions with a slow smile. More tactile than visible, it seemed to crawl over her skin like a snake. “Answer number one. My name is Rugh. Answer number two. I’ve known Adin Swift since we met in St. Petersburg, Russia, in 1793. We traveled and hunted together for a while, until he left for North America. We met again in New York City then parted ways again in Savannah, Georgia. Answer number three. My intent was simply to see how he’s doing and to keep the more vicious of our kind from, let’s say, disrupting this milestone event.” “So you’re the one who banished the others, the ones I saw flying off?” Rugh nodded. “I presume you were doing the same.” “Yes. I wanted to… help Adin. I was his birth mistress.” “I know.” Rugh’s gaze flowed over her. “And how fortunate for him.” Dizzied by her body’s response, Rahenna grabbed the railing. It wasn’t exactly arousal she felt, it was more like instant capitulation. The feral impulse to rip at and ravage him hadn’t overtaken her. The fangs hadn’t begun to grow. It was as if she had

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some built-in mechanism for self-preservation that overrode her infection. Whatever was happening, she had no wild and reckless urges. It must be because she was near a creature that could easily overwhelm and destroy her. As Rugh’s smile shrank and became more contemplative, he again faced the night. “I’m glad Adin finally found Birkett and killed the filthy bastard. I’m even more pleased his reversion has gone so well.” “So you knew about the vampire he was stalking?” “Yes. Adin and I were fairly close.” The statement not only piqued Rahenna’s curiosity, it titillated her. “Were you lovers?” With a flash of blue, Rugh’s eyes briefly shifted in her direction. “No, not really. But we often shared women… and enjoyed one another while we did so.” Ah, possibly the same arrangement Adin proposed to Spey. Rahenna wasn’t surprised. Vampires were notorious carnal adventurers, even if they hadn’t been that way before conversion. What did surprise her was a sudden surge of raw desire. “How much did you enjoy Adin?” Her voice sounded arid. “Do you mean quantitatively or qualitatively?” “The latter.” “Enormously. His physical beauty excited me. His mind excited me. His skill and creativity as a lover excited me.” Rahenna’s chest rose and fell more rapidly. She parted her lips so her breath wouldn’t saw through the air. Her nipples tingled and tightened. “You ask because you’ve never had him,” Rugh said, “and very much want to have him. Only now it’s too late.” “Yes.” Why deny it? Any of it? This ancient vampire surely detected her rocketing excitement, her thwarted longing. Rugh walked over to her. He didn’t float, as those of his age so often did, but took four deliberate steps, like an ordinary man. Rahenna stared up at him, at his brutally exquisite face and brilliant eyes.

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With consummate care, he touched her parted lips. First with one finger, then two, then three. Ever so slowly, they crept along the outline of her mouth, tracing it, caressing it. His fingertips seemed to be playing her, as if she were a musical instrument. They gently pushed against the swell of her lips, gently pulled the lower one down. Rugh lowered his head. Rahenna felt his breath drift across her cheek. His tongue stole out, and its moist tip crept along the delicate lining of her lips. As her cunt gushed and palpitated, craving a thrust of hot, hard flesh, he touched his mouth to hers. Just lightly, with barely a hint of pressure. “Would you like to know what Adin’s lovemaking feels like?” he whispered against her lips. “Would you like to see him naked again?” His fingers slid, flexing slightly, over the outer swell of her breasts as his thumbs rotated her protruding nipples. “See that tight, smooth ass, that strong pole of a cock? Would you like to see those soft lips soften even further as his face goes slack when he comes?” Rahenna mewed against his mouth. The image he painted was pure torment. Why was he doing this to her? “Look at the curtains,” Rugh said. “Look through the curtains.” Grasping her shoulders, he turned her toward the sliding glass doors that led to the deck. He unzipped her dress and eased it off her shoulders. Dim light flickered inside the room. From a candle, probably. Rahenna hadn’t noticed it before. She’d been too preoccupied with Rugh. Yes, the curtains were closed. “Look,” Rugh breathed against her ear. The curtains dissolved into a filmy near-transparency as the dress slid off Rahenna’s body. She saw Adin in the large, simple bedroom. He was naked, his body toned and sun-tanned and perfectly proportioned -- no more in need of improvement than his bewitching face. Nothing about him was exaggerated. There was never too much or too little, never anything too large or too small. The sweeping eddies of fine hair on his

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chest were like delicate, dark embroidery, as was the hair on his arms and legs. His muscles were firm and fluid; his ass, sweetly smooth and tight. And his cock… God, she could go on forever about that deliverer of pleasure. He walked up behind… behind… his woman, his love. Her. He walked up behind her. She heard his muffled footfalls, heard the wood floor creak lightly beneath the carpeting. This expectation always excited her. She held her breath, anticipating Adin’s first melting touch. She knew, watching him undress, that his cock was nearly ready for her body. Even in its lazy droop it wasn’t soft and small, like a cowering mouse. It was lengthy and thick. The cap was a perfect soft-sculpture, silky and resilient but with a hint of latent strength. It could be the head of a luxury massager. It could be the head of a spear. She loved the feel of it slipping into all her private spaces. His hands alit gently on the back of her neck, his strong fingers stroking the muscles and tendons. They crept farther down, palms whispering over her shoulders, her upper back. She felt like a fragile piece of statuary beneath his dexterous hands. His thumbs pressed along either side of her spine and slowly followed it to her hips as his fingers glided over her back. Her ribs seemed to contract at his touch, so tantalizing it was. Tenderly, he grasped her hips and eased them against his own. His erection tapped at the small of her back then slid lengthwise between her cheeks, as if it were politely requesting admission to her body. Simultaneously, she felt his plush, expressive lips swirl over the skin of her back, pressing light moisture into her pores. The tip of his tongue inscribed its own designs. “Where do you want me?” he whispered against her body. “Tell me, and I’ll be there.” Sometimes, he greedily ravished her. Sometimes, he was almost chivalrous. And he had an uncanny ability to discern which approach she preferred at any given time. She leaned back against him so she could rub the side of her face against his, so she could feel and smell the soft storm of his hair. He welcomed the contact with warm lips and warmer breath, both skimming across her neck.

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His hands drifted up to her breasts, cupping them, making it clear he relished their heaviness. His skillful fingers circled and plucked at her high, tight nipples. Each finger and thumb played her a bit differently, moved in some subtly titillating way. Bless him and damn him for all his experience, but he did know the female body. And he knew her body the best. She bumped her ass against his tall, turgid cock. “Here,” she said. “I want you here.” As she spread her legs wide and braced herself against the wall with outstretched arms, she heard the nightstand drawer hiss open, thud shut. Soon, two slicked fingers prowled the opening of her ass while more fingers snuck between her labia. She was so wet there were half-moons of moisture on the insides of her thighs. His tongue tripped along her back as his fingers slid inside her ass. Just a bit farther forward, his right hand more forcefully stimulated her clit and probed her vagina. She quivered at the sensations, all of them so persuasive, all of them trying to make her let go. But it was too soon. It was just too soon to stop enjoying him. He was breathing harshly now, and his excitement fed hers. Desire for him blazed through her blood. Wrapping one insistent arm around her waist and flattening the other hand on her back, he began his invasion. She gulped air and wished for the hundredth time that men were doubly endowed. The tautly plump head of his cock cozied itself between her cheeks… then pushed in farther… and a bit farther. By careful inches he sank his dense shaft into her body. She squeezed her muscles, hugging it, urging it on. Each of his exhalations was now a groan. She understood. Her clit was so engorged it nearly pained her. Suddenly, she thought of him with Jackson, of both their rock-solid cocks straining to near bursting. The two men craved each other -- she knew it, could feel the sexual tension between them -- and it made her crave them both. There was a responsive, tingling flutter in her pussy. Soon now, very soon. She lifted her hips higher, so he could fuck her ass more smoothly and firmly, so the banded grip on his cock would bring him the most pleasure. Within seconds he cried out,

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almost as if in pain… and after two or three faltering, shuddering thrusts, his cream jetted into her. The strong, spasmodic contractions of his cock made her cunt throb. The ejaculation went on, wouldn’t give up. He shot out so much cum, it was as if they hadn’t had sex in weeks. Yet they’d just made love this morning. Gasping, he slowly withdrew his spent cock, grabbed her, lowered her to the floor. As she lay on her back, staring at his gorgeous, flushed face, he lifted her legs and draped them over his shoulders. His lips always looked even more sumptuous just before, during and after sex. Just anticipating the touch of his mouth to her cunt made it lubricate even more. Orgasm was already creeping up on her. She closed her eyes and felt his tongue swipe into her vagina then glaze her clit with his mouth’s moisture. Somehow, she could feel his saliva. As soon as he drew the tense bud between his lips, that lurking orgasm burst forth and tore through her. He quickly thrust three fingers into her vagina so it would have something to clutch. She held his hand in place as her body convulsed around it, the current of pleasure making her head feel as if it were filled with sunlight and ocean breezes. Even as her climax waned, she found it difficult to speak. “Oh God, how I love you,” she breathed, reaching up to him. His tropic heat settled onto her. “And I love you,” he whispered, petting her damp hair and kissing her face. “I just wish the human body were designed a little differently so we could do all those wonderful things at once.” She felt a chuckle rumble in his chest. “Honey, the Creator did everything for a reason. If we could do all those wonderful things at once, it would kill us.” Smiling, she closed her eyes and savored her joy. Groggily, Rahenna’s eyelids flickered. When she finally opened them, she first saw the midnight-blue dome of the sky, sequined with stars. Then she saw Rugh kneeling over her. They were both naked.

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She bolted up to a sitting position and grabbed for her dress. Her pussy was drenched and pulsing. “What just happened?” she asked, wrestling the dress over her head. Coming to her aid -- again -- Rugh zipped it. “I just helped you live out a fantasy, that’s all.” Rahenna looked at the balcony doors. No light shimmered behind the drawn curtains. The glass was opaque in the darkness. When she looked back at Rugh, he was getting dressed. He extended a hand to help her up. Confounded, she stared at him. “You were the one who --” He wore a slight smile but didn’t look at her, didn’t say a word. “You entered my mind!” she cried in a hoarse whisper, straining to mute her voice. “You spun an illusion there!” “Shh.” He put a silencing finger to his lips. “It was no illusion.” “But I wasn’t really with Adin!” “Yes, you were.” Rugh put his arms around her and kissed her temple. “He just wasn’t with you.” His arms still around her, Rugh drifted with her to the lawn below. “Why did you do what you did on the balcony?” she asked, still light-headed. “A number of reasons.” He sank to the grass, where he sat with his forearms resting on his upraised knees. “Aside from the fact I find you very enticing, somebody had to douse your fire. It’s been raging since you got here yesterday.” “I know.” Rahenna realized that now. Sated and more or less at peace, she could see how feverishly driven she’d been. More shame drizzled through her. “But why you?” “Because I’m the only one capable of doing it without putting myself at risk. And rather than go through a whole bloody seduction ritual, which could very well have failed, I just… well, I took a shortcut by giving you something and someone you’ve been craving for a long time.” “A sure thing,” Rahenna said wryly. “Adin Swift, the perfect fire extinguisher.”

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Rugh laconically lifted his eyebrows and shrugged. For a few moments he indulged Rahenna’s bitter silence. Then a sly smile sank those delightful creases into his cheeks. “I believe it did the trick.” Rahenna found his smile irresistible. She grudgingly returned it. “You’re very good,” she murmured. “That trick was quite impressive.” “It wasn’t all a trick, you know.” “You’re very good,” she reiterated. Rugh’s smile lingered a moment longer. As it faded, he sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I honestly regret it had to happen that way. But mortals and vampires have been in danger because of you, Rahenna. And you’ll continue to pose a threat until this condition of yours is cleared up. It’s a much greater threat than you realize.” He quickly raised a silencing hand. “I know it isn’t your fault. But that doesn’t alter the core of the matter.” She knelt on her haunches, facing him. “Is that why you were following me all day? To observe me? Monitor me?” Rahenna thought she should take umbrage at his surveillance, but she was too physically spent and emotionally drained to feel genuinely resentful. Besides, Rugh’s points were indisputable. And, from all indications, he was an extraordinary lover… even if he was mimicking someone else’s moves. “I had little choice but to play guard,” he said. “When I arrived last night, Adin told me everything -- what happened to you, how you were behaving, how you couldn’t be dissuaded from showing up today. For pity’s sake, Rahenna, you’re in no condition to be around people you find provocative.” “I know that… here, now,” she said somewhat stridently, thumping her flattened hand on the ground for emphasis. “Because here, now, I’m satisfied. I fully realize what I should and shouldn’t be doing when I’m in my right mind. But don’t presume I’m in my right mind once that… that compulsion takes hold of me! All I want to do is --” “Satisfy an overwhelming need.” “Yes.”

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“I’m sorry,” Rugh said with sincerity. “I didn’t mean to imply you’re either stupid or selfishly irresponsible. I know you’re in the grip of something you can’t fight.” “Apology accepted,” Rahenna murmured to the grass. “I don’t blame anybody for despising me. My behavior has certainly been despicable enough.” “I don’t despise you, Rahenna.” The gentle tone made her tilt her head to regard him. Like the wizard, Rugh had a strong, commanding profile. “You’re very old.” He nodded. “Much older than you, which you’ve probably already guessed. You were birthed -- when? -- late fifth or early sixth century after Christ?” “Approximately.” Still, they had a connection. Rahenna could feel it. “Do we share the same homeland?” “We do. I’m of the Tuatha De Danann.” Her eyes widened. “That old?” Rugh laughed. “Thirty-five going on thirty centuries, or something like that. I’ve lost count.” His face looked kinder now, but that rough masculinity was still very much in evidence. Rahenna liked him. She liked him a great deal. This was a vampire of many moods, but certainly not a vampire to be trifled with. “Do you have any idea what’s wrong with me?” she asked. “You said Adin told you about that incident in the Azores.” “Yes, he did.” Rugh swiveled to face her. “Did you end up with marks on your body, and were you sick for a long while?” Rahenna told him in more detail what had happened. He listened intently, his brow furrowing. When her narrative was over, he voiced a thoughtful hmm and looked into whatever middle distance held solutions to problems. “Well, all indications are that Inigo was one of our ancestors.” She gaped at him. “I don’t know what you mean. My ancestors were --”

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Rugh leaned forward and grabbed her hands. “Rahenna, do you know from whence vampires evolved?” She shrugged and shook her head. “Frankly, I’d never given it any thought. Vampire history never seemed particularly relevant to my daily existence.” “You understand though -- don’t you? -- that all of earth’s currently existing species have lines of descent.” “Yes, of course. That’s part and parcel of evolution.” “And that many of the ancestors of current species still exist, in one form or another.” Rahenna still couldn’t comprehend what he was driving at. “I… yes, I suppose they do. But how does this relate to me?” “Over the few billion years of life on earth, vampires evolved as well.” “I know. That accounts for the multitude of breeds that developed. But as for our origins…” Rugh slid closer. “Dear One, Inigo is a Vestigial vampire. There aren’t many left, fortunately, and they’re easily eliminated. It’s extremely rare for one to attack a more evolved vampire or even a human; they usually feed off animals. Those are likely the reasons most vamps aren’t even aware of the existence of Vestigials.” Incredible. It was difficult for Rahenna to believe she was linked in any way to such a miscreant. “So you’re saying… this thing, Inigo, hearkens back to our evolutionary beginnings?” “Yes. He represents a kind of dwindling infraspecies within our subspecies.” Good lord. Infraspecies, subspecies… Regardless of the evolutionary record, Rahenna only knew one thing for certain. She’d been attacked by some vile creature that had maimed her and left her infested with a nasty enigma. “Well… is there a name for what he is?” “Yes, a common one. It isn’t very flattering to the rest of us, I’m afraid.” “I don’t care if you call him King Turd of Shit Mountain. What the hell is he? What is a ‘Vestigial vampire’?”

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Rugh turned up his hands. “A parasite. A crude, ruthless parasite. I can’t phrase it any more scientifically than that.” He smiled. “No taxonomy exists for vampires.” “Maybe you should devise one.” Rahenna shivered in revulsion. So, her lamprey eel comparison had been far more apt than she’d realized. “Have you bitten anybody since this incident took place?” “No, but I’ve been on the verge of it, needless to say,” she added dryly. “The first bit of good news,” Rugh murmured. “What would’ve happened if I had?” “It’s something you won’t want to dwell on. You see, the host of a parasite exists to produce that parasite’s descendants. You were Inigo’s host. Were you to birth a mortal through your bite -- while you’re still infected, of course -- that person would turn into a creature like Inigo.” Her mouth fell open in horror. “Oh no. Adin.” She’d come so close! The wizard could obviously look out for himself, but Adin… “And what would happen if I bit another vampire?” “He would become what you’ve become -- a carrier, a transmitter. Just a knot of survival instinct and appetite, devoid of conscience.” The description was mortifying. Dropping her head to her hands, Rahenna wondered what recourse she had. Short of death, what could stop her from spreading this ugliness? With more tenderness than she felt worthy of, Rugh pulled her hands away and cradled her face in his own hands. “I can help you.” Rahenna felt her first real hope in months. “Can you? How?” “By feeding off you. In essence, I’d be drawing the contagion out. I’m a longlived member of a very pure breed. My system can withstand assaults other vampires’ cannot. Afterward, you would feed off me. My blood can help cleanse and restore yours.” Of course! The longer vampires existed, the more vigorous they became. And Rugh was very old indeed, a superior elder. She’d already witnessed the potency and

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variety of his supernatural abilities. Even compared with other vampires, he had a mighty constitution. Rahenna’s hope surged. “But,” he said, “I’ll need the help of others, as well. Tell me, does anybody here tonight excite you?” “Adin’s friend,” she answered immediately. “The one named Jackson.” Rugh shook his head. “I knew you’d say that, but he won’t do. Granted, he’s a compelling man. But he’s mortal, and he doesn’t trust vampires. Those are not desirable qualities in an individual with a mastery of magick. He would be too skittish and volatile, a loose cannon.” “What do you mean, he doesn’t trust vampires? He let Adin feed from him. I’m almost sure of it.” “I believe so, too. But he has a relationship with Adin that he doesn’t have with the rest of us.” Rugh shoved a hand into his hair and scratched his head. He turned his eyes up to Rahenna. “Are there no immortals here that you fancy?” “Aside from you?” His modest, almost self-effacing smile surprised her. He lowered his hand to his knee. “Are you saying you fancy me?” “More each moment,” she confessed, charmed by everything about him. Rugh cleared his throat. “Well, are there any… others?” “An Englishman and Frenchman, Stephen and Jourdain. I met them a short while ago and rather liked them.” “Both Plague Breed recessive?” “Yes.” Rugh nodded in approval. “Good. I hope I can find them both.” Earlier, what he said had made sense to Rahenna. Now she was getting confused. “But if you’re the one who will effect this ‘cure,’ why must others be present?” Smiling, he lightly stroked her leg. “They will keep you occupied while I play doctor.”

Chapter Six “Where are we?” Rahenna asked, standing with her three male companions outside a cabin on the shore of a pine-encircled lake. She began to feel as if forests were swallowing her up. Stars were strewn so thickly overhead it seemed they might pull down the very canopy of the sky. “You needn’t know the exact location,” Rugh said. He mounted a rickety, covered porch and opened the cabin’s front door. If it had been locked, he didn’t use a key to unlock it. Superior elders didn’t have to bother with such things. A balloon of damp, musty odor pushed into the crisp night air. “Smells a bit like home,” Stephen murmured without elaborating. He stood slightly behind Jourdain, one hand resting on the French vampire’s shoulder. Rugh motioned them all inside. “We’re at one of the northernmost points in the continental United States, not too terribly far from Mr. Swift’s place. I own a number of rather isolated properties. They serve my purposes well.” The four vampires had relocated in a cluster to this spot, Rugh of course directing their flight. Such blind travel required implicit trust in the individual directing it. To Rugh’s credit, he was able to inspire such trust, just as he’d been able to secure the cooperation of Stephen and Jourdain. Of course, Stephen and Jourdain knew full well that by doing a favor for two powerful elders, they would receive favors in return. “We have but a few hours of darkness left,” Rugh said, leading them through the small kitchen to an only slightly larger living room. “Although three of us can move about in the daylight, Jourdain will need to retire before dawn. Besides --” “Darkness always empowers us,” Rahenna said, “whether we’re nocturnal or diurnal.”

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Smiling at her, Rugh lifted the chimney from a kerosene lamp sitting on a scarred table. He took a wood kitchen-match from the little box beside the lamp and lit the wick. The sudden flare of light was, for a moment, almost painful. A stealthy, scurrying sound came from an adjoining room. Apparently, Rugh was not the only inhabitant of this woodsy retreat. “Come with me,” he said, carrying the lamp to a room off the living area. A bedroom. Of course. Rahenna’s hunger began to resurface, nibbling its way to freedom. Rugh pulled a large but light plastic tarpaulin off the four-poster bed. By far the sturdiest and most well-maintained piece of furniture in the cabin, its duvet was thick and inviting, its pillows fat and shrouded in blue satin cases. The sheets, Rahenna assumed, were blue satin, as well. As Rugh set the lamp on a small nightstand, the only other furnishing in the room, she felt a man’s hands glide over her shoulders and down her arms. Stephen’s or Jourdain’s, but it didn’t matter whose hands they were. All three males in this room excited her. Rahenna’s nipples tightened, pushing against her dress. She wanted to be naked. She wanted her male companions to be naked. She wanted them all to be swaddled in midnight-blue satin as they sucked and fucked and fed. Millimeter by millimeter, her canine teeth grew. “Stop!” Rugh barked, lunging at Rahenna and swatting away those tantalizing hands. “Not yet.” His interference angered her. “What do you m --” One of Rugh’s arms curled around Rahenna like an iron bar, trapping her against his body. His other hand already lay against her lips to silence her. “Patience,” he whispered in her ear. “I must prepare you, first.” He slowly lowered the zipper at the back of her dress. Lifting his head, he spoke to the others in the room. “Slide the garment down her body and let it fall to the floor.” Rahenna felt cloth graze the skin of her arms, felt Rugh shift slightly. Her breasts fell free. Her ribs and belly and hips were bared.

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Still grasping her around the waist, Rugh lifted Rahenna an inch or two off the floor and carried her to the bed. She squirmed against him. The feel of his broad, hard chest beneath her naked breasts further ignited her. Against this vampire, though, she was powerless. He placed her on the duvet and straddled her twisting hips. “Bind her,” he said to Stephen and Jourdain. “What you’ll need to do so is hanging from each bedpost. She won’t resist.” Rahenna stared up at the imposing figure orchestrating this scene. Again, she felt the force of his electric-blue gaze, at once intimidating and beguiling. Lamplight wavered across his face. It played on the crests of his cheekbones, licked the hollows beneath them, traced the handsome contours of his lips. All she wanted at that moment was to give in to this magnificent creature. Rugh smiled almost tenderly, displaying those engaging, parallel creases along either side of his mouth. He removed his shirt and tossed it aside. Symmetrical eddies of ebony hair swirled over his taut chest muscles, his tightly cabled forearms. He unbuttoned his trousers, and another pattern of dark hair appeared. He curled over Rahenna’s body. His rich, black curls feathered her face as his lips pressed against her temple. She closed her eyes and inhaled. How lovely his hair smelled, like sweet woodruff. Her hard nipples peaked further against his hard chest. Rahenna felt one arm and then the next pulled over her head, one wrist and then the next secured in what felt like wide leather cuffs. Her legs, too, were spread apart and bound at the ankles. A thick, metallic rattling accompanied each step of the process. Chains. She’d been manacled, nude and spread-eagle, to the bedposts. When she pulled against the bindings, she realized the ones at the foot of the bed were long enough to allow her to bend her knees. Rugh lifted his head. “You can begin,” he said quietly. Sitting up, he moved almost weightlessly to the edge of the mattress. Standing next to each other on the opposite side of the bed, Stephen and Jourdain undressed in tempting slow-motion. Stephen, the fair one, slid a hand over the

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top of his swelling cock as he lowered his jeans. It swelled further as his palm inched along its considerable length. Jourdain rolled his head back and caressed his own chest. It was beautifully developed, the pectoral muscles a pair of sleek, dusky knolls crowned by distinctly beaded nipples. Both vampires were young and lean and lithe -- probably in their mid-twenties when they converted. They turned to each other. Stephen dug his fingers into Jourdain’s chest then lowered his face to it. Jourdain moaned as the greedy hands tightened their grip, thumbnails jamming into his nipples. As Stephen began to lap and suck at his flesh and nip at his chest hair, Jourdain clutched Stephen’s hair and shuddered. The Englishman had pierced him, not once but twice. Thin runnels of blood crept from Jourdain’s pectorals toward his taut stomach. Breathing heavily, Stephen drew back and watched the scarlet threads lengthen. The sight obviously aroused him. As his cock filled and stiffened, he leaned forward and began languorously to lick Jourdain clean, his tongue returning again and again to the man’s nipples. The tease was excruciating. Rahenna thrashed against her restraints, her body writhing within its limited arc of movement. The shifting of her breasts and the spreading slick of moisture between her thighs inflamed her even more. A deep ache of need settled into her lower abdomen. Her lips curled back, and she let out a half-cry, half-snarl of rage at being ignored. Damn these ambisexual creatures! “I think someone needs taking care of,” Stephen said. He glanced at Rugh and Jourdain. “And it isn’t just me.” Crawling onto the bed, he knelt between Rahenna’s legs. Jourdain sat beside her. Trembling slightly, Stephen’s hands swept along the insides of her invitingly parted thighs. When they reached the apex, he murmured, “Damn, you’re even wetter than you were at the party.” Parting her folds, he ran his thumbs along the silky lining of each lip as his little fingers rimmed the opening to her vagina. His dense, stiff cock twitched as he explored her.

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Breathing heavily, Jourdain curled his fingers and slowly, firmly raked them over her breasts, his nails scoring the skin and scraping across her distended nipples. Crying out, Rahenna arched her back at his touch. The red lines he’d left on the pale, tender flesh obviously aroused him. He immediately began fondling and nuzzling her breasts, his lust swelling at the look and feel of them. Fingers digging in, he squeezed them together and briefly buried his face in their cleavage. Almost maniacally, he began darting his mouth from one nipple to the other, plucking at them with fevered lips, scraping them with his teeth, drawing them between his lips and sucking deeply. Rahenna’s arms strained against the chains. She wanted to grasp his head and press it against her, not let it go until the flaming tingle spreading from her breasts to her cunt flared into orgasm. Jourdain’s lustful play didn’t go unnoticed by Stephen, who’d moved forward on the mattress and begun teasing Rahenna’s clit with his cock head. The more assertive one man became, the more it seemed to ramp up the other man’s appetite. Bracing himself on the mattress with one knee, Jourdain grasped his cock, jammed it against the swollen areola of Rahenna’s right nipple and began pumping. Bending her legs, Stephen tilted forward and rammed his rosy erection into her body. Even before it was fully sheathed within her, Rahenna’s cunt clenched around the invader. Maximally lengthened, her fangs nearly drove into her lower lip. God damn these creatures for so tormenting her without letting her feed! Her whole body, so tightly gnarled with unsatisfied hunger, seemed on the brink of splitting wide open. As soon as impending climax began to fist in her pelvis, she shrieked. The fist began thumping. Her voice dwindled into gasps as orgasmic waves crashed through her nerves and muscles. An unexpected sensation accompanied her climax. Rahenna felt a warm cushion of dampness against the side of her neck. Right afterward, brilliant, searing heat -- a liquid sunburst of heat that charged in a torrent throughout every vessel and fiber within her. It seemed to twine around her orgasm, intensifying it, sending her whole

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body into a trembling rigor of pleasure that not only quieted her but stole her very breath away. Her eyes drifted upward, their lids fluttering shut. Images crashed and tumbled through her mind like pieces of a shipwreck. The shabby hillside villa on Pico Island with its view of the sapphire sea… Inigo’s stupidly smug face and brawny body… the horrific marks on her own body, superimposed over the more horrific mouth of a lamprey eel. Just a knot of survival instinct and appetite, devoid of conscience. Then, in contrast, Adin Swift’s sensuous mouth… Jackson Spey’s sensuous hair… their heated embrace on a deserted patio… For a sweet, fleeting moment, Rahenna felt their mutual passion, their love. But another image arose, blotting out this poignant scene. Rahenna saw the glowing green cyclone that had enveloped her and spun her off the wizard’s back. She heard him shout “Be gone!” Yes, yes, be gone, she thought, consigning her ugliest images to a similar vortex -a maelstrom. Only hers was red, and she sent it whirling into the Shadowlands beyond death rather than the shadowy yard behind a house full of life. Be gone! The racing torrent reversed itself, as if being suctioned back to its source. A different kind of pleasure poured through her -- the pleasure of lassitude that precedes sleep. The whole strange process was like an internal thunderstorm, compressed in time -- first the gathering, then the release, then the dissipation of a holocaust of energy. The delectable outpouring continued. A blessed relaxation seemed to salve her limbs from the inside out. She felt her body sink into the duvet, becoming one with it. As her mind calmed, a final picture formed -- that of a tall, dark prince standing on a promontory at the edge of the world. No, she thought sluggishly, only a solitary vampire standing on a porch overlooking a patch of woods. Stephen had obviously withdrawn his spent cock. His cum trickled into the shallow chasm between her ass cheeks. Another smear of warm cream dripped down her right breast.

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She felt drained, empty. Was it hunger? It must be. She needed nourishment. The old master and his servants hadn’t allowed her to feed. Vaguely, she felt movement around her, heard muted voices and shuffling sounds. Had the others forgotten about her? Were they about to abandon her? She was too weak to ask. A cool caress drifted across her forehead. Lips delicately touched her closed eyelids. She felt her head being raised. “Drink,” a voice whispered. Gently, her body was eased onto its side. “Drink, my lovely.” Heavily, she lifted her eyelids. Rugh, still naked, lay beside her, his upper body propped on his bent right arm. She watched as he lifted his left hand. With the nail of his third finger, he made a short incision in his own chest, slightly above and to the left of the nipple. He leaned over her until the cut was directly over her lips. Her arms and legs were free now. She hadn’t been aware of being released. Grasping the hard, smooth hill of Rugh’s shoulder, she urged his chest against her mouth. His life-force welled onto her lips, across her tongue, down her throat. She tasted salt and smoke and coppery moonlight. Moonlight! The whimsical thought made her want to giggle. “Take in my life to reclaim yours,” Rugh murmured, then kissed the top of her head. Rahenna felt his turgid cock press against her pelvis like fire-warmed stone. When she had drunk all the blood his self-inflicted wound would yield, she slid back against the pillows and boosted herself up until she leaned against the headboard. Stephen and Jourdain were no longer in the room. She didn’t ask where they’d gone. She didn’t particularly care. At the moment, her mind was on something else, the one thing she still wanted. “Will you kiss me?” she asked Rugh. “Nobody has kissed me yet.”

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His galactic blue eyes, which normally seemed to ward off the world, now looked infinitely more welcoming. “With great pleasure,” he said, his voice like the dark satin of the sheets. When Rahenna felt the commanding crush of his lips and deft movement of his tongue, she wanted to stay with him forever. In fact, as soon as she’d opened her eyes and had seen his handsome, weatherworn face, she’d wanted to stay with him. But “forever” was a very long time in their world. So the moment would have to do. She let herself relish the feel of his hair between her fingers, the sensual movement of his mouth on hers. She tenderly cupped his face when he withdrew it. “Kneel before me, dark prince,” she said impishly, smiling at his bemused look. “My champion shalt have his own reward.” “I’ve already had it,” he said, but he knelt before her nonetheless. Leaning forward, she adoringly wrapped her fingers around his thick, long shaft. Pausing, she looked into his eyes. Their color was still powdery soft. “Are you hard for me, or for Stephen and Jourdain?” Rugh’s gaze didn’t waver. “For you. Entirely for you alone.” The question had no right or wrong answer -- Rahenna wanted to pleasure this remarkable individual regardless of what he said -- but his words deepened her longing for him. With consummate care, she slid the long, warm column of his manhood into her mouth, taking it in down to the root. Her other hand caressed his low, heavy testes. Yes, manhood, she thought, savoring the blood-dense flesh that filled her mouth. He isn’t merely a creature. He’s a man first. The strength of his cock, the vulnerability of his balls bore testimony to this. Rugh let out a long, moaning sigh as Rahenna drew her stiffened tongue along the ribbed underside of his shaft. Rhythmically sucking and stroking, she let herself delight in the details -- the smoothly stretched skin that seemed too delicate to contain so monstrous a pillar; the sinuous veins that formed a springy web beneath its satiny sheath; the soft, plump cap that crowned it.

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She worshipped it more energetically, and Rugh’s hips began a thrusting sway. He laid a hand over the cut on his chest. Shuddering, he let go. Plumes of cum shot out of his cock. Ravenously, Rahenna swallowed. Again and again. Dear lord, she thought, it hasn’t been that long since he came! And then, Most definitely, first and foremost a man. Panting, Rugh sagged onto his haunches. He limply raised an arm and touched one of Rahenna’s breasts. “So beautiful,” he breathed. Staring at him, she curled a hand around his. He lifted it to his lips and kissed it. “So beautiful. And no longer stricken. I’m sorry about the bite to your neck, by the way, but I had to do it.” “Actually, it excited me. And the puncture marks should be gone by tomorrow.” Rahenna shifted forward and held him. Rugh’s arms curled around her back and clutched her against his body, fervently. One hand moved up into her hair. “Do you still desire Adin Swift?” he murmured. “No.” She kissed the pulsing underside of Rugh’s jaw. “I still care about him, will always care about him, but I no longer desire him.” “Would you… like to stay with me for a while? Would you like it if we traveled together, made love together?” “A while,” Rahenna knew, could be sixty days or sixty years. And she knew she would like it very much. “Yes,” she said. “Oh yes.” Rugh pulled away to look at her. He was smiling. “I would like to let Adin know you’re all right now. I don’t want him thinking ill of you.” Rahenna nodded. “I’d like that, too. And then I’d like for him never to have to lay eyes on us again.” Chuckling in approval, Rugh kissed her forehead. “I’m sure the mortal and happily mated Mr. Swift would greatly appreciate that.”

Chapter Seven After sleeping well into the following day and making languid love when they awoke, Rahenna and her dark prince bathed in the large crystalline lake not thirty feet from the cabin’s door. Still nude, they went looking for Stephen and Jourdain. They found only the Englishman. He said he’d rested a bit on the shore of the lake and now awaited his “breakfast.” The Frenchman, more limited in his hours of activity, had secreted himself -- probably under the cabin, Stephen thought. Jourdain could not arise and depart until nightfall. Stephen had agreed to wait for him. The two had apparently been keeping company, on and off, for centuries. “From where would you like to feed?” Rugh asked Stephen. Curiously, Rahenna glanced at the men. The three of them stood on a splintered dock, its crooked planks weathered to a pale gray. In the distance, the eerie call of a loon rippled through the sun-dappled silence. “I promised to give him some of my blood,” Rugh explained to her, “in return for his help last night.” Stephen’s gaze swept up and down the superior elder’s trim, muscular body. “I can’t decide,” he said, one hand curled over his chin. “I quite fancy your hair -- it’s like a mass of sable embroidery thread, and nicely scented -- so the back of your neck might be a pleasant spot.” He dropped his hand and grinned. “But your groin would be keenly exciting as well as pleasant.” “And how do you plan on finding sexual release afterward?” Rugh asked. Even if Rahenna couldn’t see Rugh’s swelling cock, she could smell both men’s arousal. They knew, as she did, that Stephen must have sex after feeding or his nasty Plague Breed traits would begin to surface. And that would not be something Rugh

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would want on his conscience. A Plague-Breed-dominant vampire wouldn’t hesitate to feed off an unwilling human, thus converting that hapless person to vampirism. “Let’s not be disingenuous,” Stephen said, arching his brows. “I’m sure you know what a tempting ass you have.” Their gazes locked for a moment. Rahenna felt her own heat level rise. Without another word, Rugh walked off the dock to the overgrown shore. He half reclined in the weedy grass, arms locked behind him, one long leg stretched out and the other casually bent. Darkly seductive, he looked like a centerfold model. Renewed desire for him simmered through Rahenna’s blood. “Care to join us?” Stephen asked, shedding his clothing. “No,” she said in a throaty voice, “I’d much rather watch.” She sank to the ground near Rugh, aware of the moisture collecting in her pussy. Stephen’s cock, too, was already semi-erect. He sauntered up to Rugh and stood over him for a moment, casually masturbating, letting his pole thicken and lengthen before the elder’s eyes. Impassively, Rugh regarded this foreplay. His growing hard-on, however, belied his indifference. Stephen dropped to his knees. Leaning forward, he nuzzled Rugh’s lush, dark delta of pubic hair. The nail of his right forefinger had already honed itself to piercing sharpness. With preternatural speed, he lifted and then plunged it into Rugh’s groin. His head falling back, the elder gasped. A distinct tremor shook his firm body. Excited breathing expanded and contracted his chest. Stephen buried his face in the gully between Rugh’s hip and thigh. He eagerly sucked at the welling blood, one hand splayed across the low, tight muscles of Rugh’s abdomen, the other hand gripping Rugh’s thigh. The sight drove Rahenna wild. It wasn’t the kind of madness she’d felt when she was infected, just a normal reaction to seeing a vampire feed off someone she found attractive. Her hand slid to her pussy, middle finger tightly circling and nudging her clit. She slid most of the finger into her vagina and let its underside continue to stimulate her ripe, slippery bud.

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A drop of moisture, like dew, shimmered at the very tip of Rugh’s engorged cock. Rahenna wanted to bound over to him and lick it off, but an orgasm was about to tear through her. The two men were suddenly up off the ground and stumbling toward the lake. Rugh fell to all fours in the shallow water near the shoreline, a tangle of black curls falling past his lowered face. Stephen immediately knelt behind him, grasping his hips. The moment Rahenna saw Stephen ram his stiff cock into Rugh’s ass -- over and over again, making it disappear and reappear -- her hand stilled, her body tensed, and debilitating pleasure throbbed from her cunt through her torso and into her limbs. She wilted onto her side, and another, smaller wave rolled through her. Rugh shot his cum directly into the lake, his arched back and jerking hips bearing testimony to his release. Rahenna fancied she could see it spurting out of his cock and making a milky slick on the water before it either dissolved or sank. Perhaps Stephen, reaching beneath Rugh, had been fondling his balls. As if he were doing push-ups, Rugh lowered himself into the water, rose out of it, lowered himself again, then sprang nimbly to his feet. Tossing back his head, he shook out his hair. A woodland god, Rahenna thought, unable to take her eyes off him. Magnificent. She’d often heard it said that everything happened for a reason. Her seemingly ill-fated encounter with Inigo had proved the proverbial blessing in disguise. As Rugh strode out of the water, she rose to meet him. And now we shall be together… for sixty days or sixty years or an eternity. He seemed to verify Rahenna’s thoughts by giving her a fervid kiss as soon as he reached her. “Would you like to stay or go?” Rugh asked. “The choice is yours.” “What about Jourdain? Don’t you have to repay him, as well?” “I’m sure we’ll meet again.” “In that case, I would like to make my apologies to Adin.” Rugh nodded. “And then?” “And then gather my things from the motel, return my rental car and… fly off to explore the world with you.”

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The dark-prince-turned-woodland-god smiled his approval.

*** It was dusk. “One of us may have to call him out,” Rahenna said. “Maybe later tonight, while Celia’s asleep.” She and Rugh lay in each other’s arms, dozing on and off, in the woods behind Adin’s property. Any periods of rest would do them both good. They’d likely be traveling a great deal in the near future, and the ongoing hunt could also be draining. Although Adin and Celia were both at home, another, older couple was there as well. Rugh thought they might be Celia’s parents. He’d heard yesterday, at the party, that they’d driven from Michigan’s Upper Peninsula to meet their daughter’s fiancé. They were staying at Blaine’s Sunset Motel, the same one Rahenna had checked into. “I’d have to be the one to do the calling,” Rugh said, “since he’s rather wary of you right now. But I don’t know if he’s still capable of picking up on that kind of communication.” Rahenna sat up and eased her lover’s head onto her lap. “It worked for me the day before yesterday, although it took a few tries.” “But you were his birth mistress. I don’t have that kind of bond with him.” Sighing, Rahenna stared at the chalet and wondered if this might be a lost cause. Days could pass before Adin was once again alone in the house. And the town was simply too small for her and Rugh to blend while they waited. Anonymity was impossible in places like Woodbine. If she left now, though, her business here would feel unfinished. She couldn’t bear to have any of her children think of her as a monster. “The only other option,” Rugh said, “is calling him on the phone and asking him to meet me somewhere.” At that moment, Rahenna heard voices drifting from the front of the house. Rugh must have heard them, too. “Wait here,” he said. He shot up to the roof of the chalet, almost too fast even for Rahenna to see. He returned a few minutes later.

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“The gods must have been eavesdropping as we discussed our predicament. Celia just got into a car with her parents. I think they’re going out to dinner.” “And Adin is staying behind?” “From what I could gather, yes.” An engine started. Tires crunched on gravel. Rugh grabbed Rahenna’s hand. “Come on. It should be safe now.” They made their way to the rear of the house and waited until a cloud of dust signaled the vehicle’s departure. Walking to the front, they saw that Adin was no longer outside. Rugh went to the door and knocked while Rahenna waited off to one side. She heard both men’s voices. Neither one ever rose above a murmur. Good. No shock or outrage, no demands or persuasions. Within minutes, Adin stepped outside. Rahenna stood still, hands loosely clasped in front of her, waiting to see his reaction. She felt strangely nervous, diffident, like a recently released convict confronting his victim. Adin took a few steps toward her. “Rugh tells me you’re well again.” “Yes, thanks to him.” “I’m not surprised. He is a powerful old bastard.” Adin looked at his friend. “Where did you go?” “To my cabin in the Northwest Angle. Everything went well.” Rugh walked up to Rahenna and ran a hand down her arm, perhaps to show Adin she could be trusted. “We’ve even become… somewhat close.” Lips pursing in a smile, Adin briefly looked at the ground before tilting his head to regard Rugh. “Really? That’s interesting.” “How so?” “I’d often thought the two of you would make a fine couple.” His smile became more teasing. “For a while, anyway.” Rugh chuckled and shook his head. “Adin…” Rahenna helplessly lifted her arms, dropped them. “Please forgive me. I want to leave knowing I have your forgiveness, knowing you won’t remember me

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based on how I’ve behaved over the past two days. And when we’re gone, rest assured you’ll never have to see either one of us again.” Although he watched her quite intently, his expression was unreadable. “I don’t mind seeing Rugh.” Rahenna felt her face go slack. “Hey, I’m only kidding.” Finally, Adin did approach her. “Of course you have my forgiveness. I know your true nature. I know what I saw recently wasn’t your true nature.” “Thank you. I’m very grateful.” Rahenna turned to Rugh. “I’d like to speak with Adin for a bit. Alone, if you don’t mind.” He nodded. “All right. I’ll wait for you out back.” Rahenna watched him leave. She hoped he wouldn’t be able to overhear this conversation. As much as she liked and respected Rugh, what she planned on saying to Adin was none of his business. “Why the secrecy?” Adin asked. “Because I respect your privacy.” Rahenna sat on one of the two wrought-iron benches flanking the front door. She hadn’t taken her eyes off him. “Adin, when I said a couple of days ago that I cared deeply about you, I meant it. That may have been one of my few moments of absolute clarity in the past hellish five months.” Looking humbled, he nodded. “I do believe you, Raney.” “And it’s precisely because I care about you that I’m going to say what I’m about to say.” A slight frown creased his forehead. “I saw you and Jackson on the patio last night.” After staring at her a moment longer, Adin seamed his lips and turned his eyes down. A rose blush tinctured his cheeks. Rahenna thought how lovely the color looked on him, but she was grieved by the embarrassment that caused it. “Do you love him?” she asked quietly.

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His face gathered, as if he were struggling against a sudden stab of pain. He pinched the bridge of his nose then looked at her. It seemed he had to force himself to do so. “Don’t go there. Please.” Reaching for him, Rahenna gently grasped his fingers. “Adin, you needn’t --” “I’m in love with Celia. I love Jackson as a friend. Enough said.” He lifted his eyebrows. “All right?” “No, it isn’t all right. Come here.” Adin hesitated, but he did relent and sit beside her. Rahenna released his hand. Cocking his head toward her, he rested his forearms on his legs. “Old habits die hard. I was used to having my pick of women -- and men -- for a long, long time.” “That isn’t it,” she said, shaking her head in refutation. “I’m quite familiar with the promiscuity of the vampyrii. What I witnessed last night was not some remnant of that.” “You don’t think so?” Adin’s tone was acerbic. “Then ask Rugh. He’s been around longer than either of us. He might have a different opinion.” “Even Rugh seems to think you have something special with Jackson, some unique bond.” Adin lowered his face to his hands and rubbed it. “I really don’t want to talk about this.” “Then don’t. But, damn it, at least listen to me!” He slid a glance at her. It seemed to be a sign of concession, however grudging. “You’re mortal again,” Rahenna said, “and you surely remember from your last go-round that life can be startlingly short. Don’t go through your remaining years feeling deprived and eaten up with regret.” She dipped her head toward him. “If being with that man brings you joy, then --” “Don’t you get it?” he said tightly. “Being with Celia brings me joy. I’ll never leave her, Raney. I can’t even begin to contemplate living without her.” “Oh for God’s sake, Adin, I’m not suggesting you leave her. Just hear me out.” He sighed in vexation and ran his hands over his hair.

K. Z. Snow

Tormented

- 71 -

“Talk to her about this. Talk to Jackson about this. Maybe you can come up with some kind of… arrangement.” Adin breathed out a dour, silent laugh. “Believe me, Jackson Spey is not an ‘arrangement’ kind of man. He can have just about anybody he wants, anytime he wants.” Slapping his thighs, Adin rose from the bench. “End of discussion.” Rahenna clutched his wrist. “He wants you, Adin. I can tell.” “This is going nowhere.” Damn it, why was he giving up so easily? Rahenna was convinced each of these men needed something in the other, and nearly as convinced they had a chance of finding it. “Do you want him?” she asked, refusing to accept a defeatist attitude. “We can’t always have what we want.” Adin lifted her hand from his wrist. Almost as an afterthought, he lightly kissed it. The smile that followed was rueful but devoid of any self-pity. “Surely that’s something life has taught you.” “I’ll tell you what life has taught me,” Rahenna said, growing stern with him. “Especially what life has taught me over the past two days. It’s the importance of being true to yourself, of fighting to claim or reclaim who and what you are. Don’t ever turn your back on the opportunity to do that. It’s your only path to genuine fulfillment.” Rising from the bench, she kissed Adin on the cheek. “Thank you for being gracious enough to listen. I didn’t mean to torment you, honestly, but I wouldn’t have been able to rest easy without having my say. Your happiness means the world to me.” Still silent, Adin only nodded. Rahenna could almost feel the conflict boiling within him. She smiled, trying to convey her faith in him. “You have a good heart, my darling, so I’ll trust it to lead you to the best resolution.” “And where is your heart leading you?” he asked quietly. Rahenna’s smile broadened. Briefly closing her eyes, she conducted a little experiment. Within seconds, Rugh rounded the corner of the house and approached her. “You called me,” he said with a touch of wonder. “This,” Rahenna said to Adin, “is where my heart is leading me.”

K. Z. Snow

Tormented

- 72 -

Rugh looked back and forth between them. “I won’t ask what led up to that statement, but I find it --” Pausing, he seemed perplexed. Adin lifted his eyebrows. “Well, it appears our eminently wise elder is at a loss for words.” Cupping his hands around his mouth, he stage-whispered, “Try ‘gratifying,’ Rugh. That won’t get you in too deep.” Rugh held in a smile. “Fuck you, Adin.”

“Not anymore you can’t.”

Rahenna burst into giggles. “We really need to get out of here.”

“So you’re ready?” Rugh asked, slipping an arm around her waist.

She glanced at him and nodded, suddenly grateful for those rare occasions when

people did get what they wanted. “Very ready.” “You do make a very handsome couple,” Adin said. His appreciative gaze underscored his sincerity. “Where will you be going from here?” “Wherever the wind takes us,” Rugh answered. He cupped the side of Adin’s face and quickly slid his thumb over Adin’s lips. Then he murmured something in a dialect so old, even Rahenna couldn’t understand it. “I’m sorry,” Adin said, “I didn’t get that.” “Yes, you did,” Rugh told him. “Or you will.” He let the cryptic statement stand. “And now,” he kissed Rahenna’s temple, “let’s go make up for your lost time. And add to it.”

K. Z. Snow K. Z. Snow, a multi-published author, is an old hippie who writes all kinds of stuff. She has 2½ degrees in English and has worked as a teacher, advertising specialist, and editor. Although currently concentrating on erotic romance (paranormal, fantasy, and contemporary), K. Z. has also published more traditional romances, an urban fantasy, and a topical dystopian thriller. Other works are always in progress or waiting to be submitted. Her paranormal, Cemetery Dancer, was a 2008 EPPIE finalist. She has also written under the names Kate Snow and K. A. Schuster. K. Z. lives in the oft-frozen tundra of Wisconsin with three significant others: two dogs and, alas, a man. For regularly updated news and views, and to sample excerpts and book covers, visit the author at http://www.myspace.com/kzsnow or http://kzsnow.blogspot.com.