Ancient Blood: Deep Red Part 4

Her water-slicked body slipped down his until she trapped his engorged c.o.c.k between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and squeezed them together in a slow rhythm.

"s.h.i.+t, Trixie!" he growled, his heart pounding. His fangs slipped from their sheaths, aching for her blood as much as his c.o.c.k ached for her c.u.n.t.

"I want you, Vincent," she panted. "I want you deep inside me."

"Oh, yeah, sweetheart," he said as he grasped her upper arms and hauled her to her feet. He pressed her against the tile, bent his knees, and thrust into her.

"Oh!" she gasped, fingers clutching his shoulders as he thrust. Vincent nuzzled her neck, licking the soft flesh before sinking his teeth in deep. Her blood ran hot and sweet over his tongue. He nearly came, marveling at his own mastery of desire as he continued ramming into her, feeling her quake in the throes of o.r.g.a.s.m as she bit his shoulder. The speed of his thrusting increased, forcing her to another quick o.r.g.a.s.m that, by the sound of her growls and screams, must have been even more intense than the one before.

When she reached her third, he gave in to his own overwhelming desire. With a ma.s.sive thrust and an animalistic howl, he came, his body surging, his fangs buried deep in her flesh.

He reached for the faucet and turned it off, blinking at her through the steam.

Want to go to the bedroom, Baroness? His thoughts touched hers.

You can bet on it, Vikenti.

Vincent reached for a towel, wrapped her in it, and carried her to the bed.

Chapter Three.

Sir Edward Race's Mansion Hannah dusted powder over her face, paying careful attention to the corner of her mouth where she'd applied extra makeup to conceal the bruise spreading from her cut lip. Standing in front of the mirror in Seraphim's room, she stared into her own hopeless reflection as she brushed and braided her hair.

After what happened the previous day, she wondered why she'd bothered carrying clothes and toiletries out of her room in the servants' quarters to dress in his. Though she found his treatment of her odd, her entire body had warmed with pleasure when he'd asked her to stay with him. It was as if he truly enjoyed being with her-and not simply for her blood. It had been so long since someone had looked at her with any kindness that she'd almost forgotten what it was like. Of course she was certain he had other motives for keeping her-like s.e.x and blood. Still, she would rather pleasure a decent man-if any vampire could be considered decent-than the likes of David Ridge. Yet according to that sleazy b.a.s.t.a.r.d Ridge, Seraphim would not be back. Shortly after he'd left the room, Hannah wandered to the kitchen with the hope of finding something to eat. She hadn't eaten since the previous day, and she'd felt starved. Ridge, obviously an early riser, had stopped her on the stairway and dragged her to an alcove in the main hall.

"I bet you think he'll keep you safe," the blond vampire snarled in her face. Hannah's teeth clenched and she endured his touch. She knew better than to fight. Not only was her mortal strength insignificant compared with a vampire's, but Sir Edward had made it quite clear she was to obey, or her family would regret it.

"You're just one more luscious meal to him." David licked her throat, and she s.h.i.+vered with disgust.

David took it as something else. "Like that, do you? What mortal could resist us- especially me. Seraphim has a strange sense of humor. He's toying with you, stupid b.i.t.c.h. I guarantee he won't be back. Last night was the last you'll see of him. I have somewhere to go right now, but I'll be back. You'll be in my bed tonight, love."

David's mouth descended on hers in a brutal kiss. One of his fangs sank into the corner of her mouth and she tasted her own blood. He pulled away, licking red moisture from his lips and casting her a wicked glance before leaving her with her heart pounding in rage and fear.

Hannah sighed, feeling a little sick, as she talked herself into leaving the room. If she didn't go soon, Sir Edward would send for her. She was beginning to think Ridge was right. Seraphim said he'd be back tonight, but it was hours past sundown and he had yet to arrive.

She smoothed her hands down the front of her floor-length dress of sheer black fabric, a black satin slip beneath. The low, v-shaped neckline exposed a good amount of cleavage, draped with three strands of pink pearls. She slipped her feet into delicate black high-heeled sandals and drew a deep breath as she stepped into the hall.

At the top of the staircase, giddiness nearly overcame her when she noticed Seraphim standing by the door, speaking to Sir Edward. His eyes riveted to her, and her legs turned to liquid. He finished his conversation with his host and ascended the steps, his pale eyes fixed on hers. Part of her longed to glance away, yet another part of her couldn't bear to. It was as if their souls were connected. He offered more comfort with a look than anyone had ever provided with words or actions. Still, something about him inspired fear. She'd seen more powerful looking men-David Ridge for one-but none who exuded strength of soul like Seraphim. She'd been around many vampires and overheard enough of their conversations to understand some of their culture. There was much talk of Alphas, and she had no doubt Seraphim was one of those dominant males. Something in her gut told her if it came down to an out and out fight, he'd bury the likes of David Ridge.

He stopped on the top step. Her heartbeat fluttered as she waited for him to initiate the conversation. He looked paler than the night before, and shadows darkened the flesh beneath his eyes. The image was one of a mortal who hadn't slept enough. Maybe he hadn't. She didn't know what business he'd attended or what he'd done while he'd been away. Lord, she was starting to think like a d.a.m.n girlfriend and she'd only laid eyes on the man two days ago! Not even a man-a vampire. The same as the creatures who'd turned her life into misery.

"You came back," she said.

His eyes narrowed. "I told you I would."

"I know."

He offered her his hand as they walked to his room. With the door closed behind them, he tossed his travel bag on a chair and sat on end of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and pressing his fingertips to his eyes.

"Are you all right?" She tried to sound aloof. The last thing she needed was to start caring about one of his kind.

He dropped his hands from his face and fixed his gaze on her. "You look beautiful."

I knew it. All of them only think about one thing . Jaw tightening, she slipped down the shoulder strap of her dress and turned her neck to him.

Seraphim stood and pushed the strap back into place. The tips of his fingers trailed over her cheek and lips.

"I thought that -"

"Shh," he whispered against her lips, then kissed her.

Hannah's eyes slipped shut, and her lips parted beneath his gentle kiss. Only when his arm slipped around her waist and the kiss deepened did she gasp with discomfort and jerk in his embrace.

He pulled back instantly, his mouth smeared with her blood from the cut on her lip that had reopened beneath his kiss.

Seraphim touched the corner of her mouth and glanced at his b.l.o.o.d.y fingertips. "What's this?"

"It's nothing."

"What happened?" he demanded.

"What do you think?" she replied. "It's part of what I do. You know what I am."

"No, I know what you appear to be."

Hannah tried turning away from him, but his arm tightened around her waist, holding her close. He tilted her face up to his. "Who was it?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I gave orders you weren't to be touched."

"You gave orders? " she scoffed. "Who the h.e.l.l are you? I'm employed by Sir Edward and he -"

"Follows orders from the highest bidder. Are you going to tell me what happened?"

When she didn't reply, she felt the strangest sensation. It was as if warm fingers had pried into her head and were sifting through her thoughts.

"Ridge," he stated.

She gasped, suddenly realizing she'd been holding her breath while his presence searched her mind. She shoved him hard in the shoulder, and this time he released her, turning even paler as he walked toward the window and gazed out at the desert night.

"He won't bother you again," Seraphim told her.

"Don't believe it."

"No, I guarantee it."

She folded her arms across her chest. "Don't invade my thoughts again."

"Then when I ask a question, answer it," came the calm reply.

Hannah's teeth clenched. The man was really beginning to annoy her. She headed for the door only to have it held closed by one of his hands.

"What do you want from me?" Her fists clenched. "Blood, s.e.x, what?" His lips curved into a half smile.

"So you can probe my mind, but I have to guess what you're thinking?" she demanded.

"I'm thinking I need a drink," he said. "Would you like to come?"

"But I just offered my -"

"Your blood can't nourish me. I'm an Immaculate. Do you know what that is?"

"You were born not made."

"That's right."

"You drink the blood of other vampires." A monster for other monsters to fear.

He opened the door and offered her his arm. She took it, feeling the hardness of his biceps against his s.h.i.+rtsleeve. Together they walked to the dining room.

Several guests lounged on the couches and chairs filling half the room while others mingled, examining the artwork and sculptures decorating the walls. Most had companions, either mortal or hybrid, and some were engaged in blood exchange. Hannah knew that to many vampires, biting was considered as personal as s.e.x and warranted the same privacy, but morality of any kind was unheard of among Sir Edward's acquaintances. At least that's what Hannah thought until she'd met Seraphim.

Though dinner wouldn't be served for several hours, servants had already begun setting the table. Soft music from a CD player drifted in the background and the aroma of incense wafted on the air.

Seraphim guided her toward the bar at the entranceway where a uniformed man stood, s.h.i.+ning gla.s.ses. He smiled at Seraphim, revealing catlike fangs. Seraphim scarcely returned the gesture as he watched the bartender pour his preferred vintage. She noted his eyes had darkened to an almost copper glow, the whites tinted red. It was a look she knew all too well, and she s.h.i.+vered.

He glanced at her. "What would you like?"

"I don't drink-wine." She nearly broke into morbid laughter at her own Dracula reference, but the bad joke appeared to be wasted on him. He stared at her, and she shook her head, touching a hand to her temple before she glanced at the bartender. "Do you have any cranberry juice, Al?"

The hybrid poured what she wanted. She took a tentative sip, never exactly sure what would be mixed with purplish red drinks. It tasted normal, so she swallowed.

As she watched him from the corner of her eye, Seraphim finished half of his drink in a gulp.

Sir Edward approached, his smile fading at the frigid look in Seraphim's eyes.

"So much for no one breathing on her," Seraphim said.

"Excuse me?" Sir Edward lifted an eyebrow.

Seraphim tilted his head slightly to one side, studying his host.

"I have no control over a man like Ridge. If he has something in his head -"

"Ah, you do understand us." Seraphim's strange manner made Hannah's stomach clench with anxiety. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation between Seraphim and David due to her. Either way, she was bound to get hurt.

"Where is he?" Seraphim demanded.

"He and Mrs. Ridge left early this morning. I thought they'd be back by now, but-"

Seraphim lifted an eyebrow and finished his drink. Turning to Al, he asked for another.

Sir Edward watched him. "I've never known you to imbibe so heavily. Are you feeling well, Seraphim? I thought you looked unwell when you arrived, but -"

"I haven't had much time to hunt."

"Perhaps you should switch our Hannah for a hybrid. Surely some of my lovely ladies appeal to you?"

"Ladies." Seraphim smiled. "Of course."

Sir Edward's jaw tightened before he slipped into his typical smile. "Is that a yes?"

Seraphim's look said all as he entwined his fingers with Hannah's and tugged her closer.

"What is the old expression?" Sir Edward shrugged. "Different strokes?"

The host walked away and mingled with other guests. Seraphim placed his empty gla.s.s back on the bar and asked for yet another.

"Why don't you just take the bottle?" Al muttered.

"If you insist." Seraphim s.n.a.t.c.hed it from the shocked hybrid's hand and guided Hannah out of the room.

Her heartbeat quickened and she hurried to keep up with his long strides as they headed for the stairs. G.o.d, he was turning into a maniac before her eyes. A nasty, drunken Immaculate. Wonderful. She doubted she'd live through the night. By morning they'd probably be shoveling what was left of her into a body bag to be delivered to Sir Edward's private crematorium.

"Maybe you'd rather be alone," she suggested as they approached his room. She glanced at the bottle. "Just you and your lover?"

A genuine smile played around his lips as they stepped inside and he closed the door behind them, locking it. She glanced around for some kind of weapon. The heart. Those things could always be killed by piercing their heart. She'd learned so many of the legends about vampires were wrong, but the heart vulnerability was true.

"What are you afraid of?" he asked.

"Oh," she tossed her hands in the air and uttered a mocking laugh, "not a thing. Don't you think you've had enough of that?"

He'd taken a swallow directly from the bottle and licked a glaze of scarlet from his lower lip. He appeared amused. "It's only hybrid blood."

"Then you're not drunk?"

"I wish," he muttered. "Come here."

She took a hesitant step closer. His arm snaked around her waist and instinctively she thrust both hands at his shoulder to push him away.

He cursed, releasing her and touched a hand to his shoulder.