Someone I will birth into a new life…my offspring.You.”
He met her eyes again. “If I don’t, I’ll go mad, and I have no intention of going mad.”
Her breathing quickened as she backed up.“You selfish bastard. Are you saying you’re really going to turn me into a vampire?” Tempest’s voice cracked at the end of her question.
He nodded, advancing on her. “Yes. I’ve already begun the process. When we were so rudely interrupted at the hotel, you had just started to lick the blood from a cut I made in my skin. We’re already psychically connected. It’s good that you finally believe me. Your denial was becoming tedious.”
She raised her chin, challenging him. “I don’t remember licking any blood. You’re full of shit. This can’t be happening! There’s no such f**king thing as a vampire!”
Snake-quick,Malveaux’s hands grasped the sides of her head, holding tight while he caught her gaze. He transmitted memory pictures directly to her brain. He showed her their time together in the hotel, his encounter with the newborn vampires he’d extinguished in the alley, a particularly vivid blood ritual performed by a vampire coven, his first human kill, and the night he was transformed against his will.
In any other circumstances, he might have shared the memories slowly, giving the recipient time to integrate the flood of data. Most minds couldn’t take that much stimulation all at once, but Tempest had shown she possessed an unusual psyche. At least he hoped she did. Regardless, he’d simply wasted too much time already.
When he released her head and took a step back, she stared at him, mouth and eyes stretched wide.
After a few seconds, she listed from side to side,then crashed to the floor like a harvested redwood.
“Shit!”Malveaux knelt down next to her, studying her glassy eyes. In the big picture, it really shouldn’t make much difference if he’d literally blown her mind with his mental film festival. She could still service his sexual needs. Her blood would still taste as sweet.
But for some reason he was upset by this turn of events. He’d grown accustomed to her clever repartee and her gutter mouth. He’d miss her sarcasm and witty disrespect. Never in a million years would he have expected to become fond of the gorgeous musician.Or of anyone.
Almost afraid of what he’d find, he tuned into Tempest’s mind, seeking hints of any cognitive activity.
Instead of the dense silence he expected after having her circuits fried, her consciousness churned with chaotic images, like a movie on fast forward. He placed his hands on her temples and willed the frantic energy in her brain to slow. When he sensed that it had, he took his hands away and watched her face.
She blinked watery eyes and closed her mouth.
“Tempest?Are you in there?”
Her lips were so dry she had to run her tongue over them a couple of times before she couldspeak, her voice weak. “What the f**k did you do to me?”
Malveauxthrew back his head and laughed. Relief and happiness washed through him. Damned if he wasn’t pleased.
“I shared some of my memories with you. I’m glad they didn’t blow your fuses.”
“Are you telling me that you actually lived the grotesque things you shoved into my head? You know those bloodsucking creatures? You were raped as well as turned into a vampire?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Those memories are only the tip of a bloody iceberg. I just wanted to convince you that there are such things as vampires, and I am one. And after tonight, you’ll be one, too.”
Tempestraised up on her elbows, chin quivering, vulnerability and sadness in her eyes. “But I don’t want to be a vampire. I don’t want to drink anybody’s blood. I don’t want to sleep in a coffin. I want to play music. I want a recording deal. I have plans for my life. You have no right to swoop in and take it all away.” One fat tear rolled down her cheek.
He stared at her, brushed his finger through the tear, and lifted the salty liquid to his mouth. Her reaction surprised him. She’d never expressed any emotional pain in front of him before. His memory slam must have upset her brain chemistry and deepened her exhaustion. Her sadness made his heart -- or what used to be his heart -- ache. He hadn’t experienced a feeling like that since he was turned. What the hell had happened to The Assassin to make him care about what some petty human thought? Were these feelings part of his impending madness? He’d better get his shit together and do what needed to be done.
Adding some extra gruffness to his voice, he said, “Well, whether I have a right or not, it’s going to happen.”
He stood and held out a hand. “Come on. We both still need a shower. This place has all the amenities, albeit minimal.” He pointed toward a doorway at the back of the large room. “The bathroom is in there.
The last time I was here, the plumbing worked, and the water was sufficiently hot. Someone even put in some rudimentary wiring for electricity, so the lights are functional.”
Clearly, there was no benefit to sentimentality. He decided to use mind control on Tempest, at least as much as her strong will would allow, so that the bonding experience could be as pleasant as possible for her. Locking eyes, he sent a silent mental command for her to follow his instructions. Her eyes glazed, and her face went slack. He didn’t want to override her personality, just make sure she did what he wanted.
“Give me your hand, Tempest.” She did, and he pulled her up from the floor, leaving the blankets and her jacket in a pile. The blazing fire in the hearth had warmed the room to a comfortable level.
“Here.” He pointed to one of the narrow beds along the wall. “Sit down on the edge and let me take those boots off.” She sat, watching him with empty eyes.
He knelt, unzipped the cheap black leather, and pulled the boots from her feet. She gasped, deep frown lines creasing the skin between her eyebrows. His nostrils twitched as the smell of blood wafted from the open sores on her toes. The poor-fitting boots had rubbed against her skin, causing oozing blisters and bloody wounds. She must have been in pain, but hadn’t said anything. She hadn’t even given it a thought, or he’d have picked it up. What a courageous little soul she was.
“Tempest, why didn’t you say anything about the pain in your feet?You could have removed the boots long ago.”
She looked up at him, emotionless, her frown erased. “I had a lot more on my mind than footwear. In the face of impending death, sore feet didn’t seem very important. Who knew what kind of shit I’d have to walk through? And besides, they’d gone numb.”
He scooped her limp, unresisting form up into his arms and headed toward the bathroom. How odd it was that he worried about sores on the feisty human’s feet and whether the water in the shower would cause her more pain. He couldn’t remember ever caring about the welfare of others. His own human childhood had been so horrible, so inescapable, all his compassion had died. No one had ever spared a thought about his wellbeing. Even before he became a vampire, as a human assassin he’d killed scores of people without a qualm. Why was he suddenly having these unwanted feelings?
Entering the small room, he looked for somewhere to put Tempest while he took care of the shower details. Since there was no lid on the toilet, he had to resort to leaning her against the wall. She stood silent, watching him.
He’d spent quite a lot of time in this particular lair and had planned ahead. Fully expecting he’d bring human company to visit at some point, he’d stocked up on supplies.
Reaching into a large box perched on top of a wobbly table in the corner, he pulled out a toothbrush, toothpaste, comb, shampoo, skin cream, and a couple of thick towels. Then remembering that his own toothbrush was in his car, he pulled out another one for himself. He didn’t know if all vampires paid attention to dental hygiene, but he couldn’t imagine going around with blood breath or questionable chunks stuck between his fangs.
But blood breath was the least of his concerns at the moment. He was still wearing the residue from his last meal at the mob boss’s headquarters, and the smell was so bad he could barely stand himself. His long hair fell in gummy clumps.
The shower consisted of one skinny, open stall with an ancient-looking, rusty nozzle. He turned on the water, shaking his head at the thin, pitiful steam that sprayed out. Recalling the water had been more forceful the last time he’d used it, he pounded the pipe a couple of times with his fist, releasing a small explosion of discolored liquid. After a few seconds, the water cleared, and he adjusted the temperature.
“Not exactly the luxurious accommodations I would have preferred for you, but at least you’ll be warm and clean.” Still worrying about the effect of the water on the sores on her feet, he said, “What do you think? Would you rather stick one foot in at a time and have the pain in smaller increments, or do you want to just step in and get it over with?”
She pushed away from the wall toward the shower. “Let’s get it the f**k over with.”
Pausing just long enough to stick her hand in the stream, she thrust herself into the stall. When the water hit the open sores, she gasped.Malveaux , who’d quietly slipped in behind her, instinctively lifted her several inches above the floor.
“What did you do that for? How am I supposed to get used to the pain if you don’t let me feel it?”
He had no idea why he’d done that. It had just been an automatic reflex. He hadn’t wanted her to suffer.
Shit. What was going on with him? He’d totally forgotten that he could just give her a suggestion that she wouldn’t feel the pain. Was he going to forget he was a blood drinker next? Maybe he was further along the path to madness than he realized.
Lowering her slowly, he sent her the pain-free mental suggestion.
Tempest rotated in the hot water, saturatingherself , and then she grabbed the closest bar of soap, worked it between her hands, and lathered her face. She soaped the rest of her body, rinsed, and picked up the shampoo bottle. Within minutes her long hair was clean and conditioned.Malveaux watched her shower ritual with amused curiosity. She washed her body as he’d expect: systematically, thoroughly, with no wasted motion.
She turned to him, “Let me switch places with you, Dracula. You really stink.”
Malveauxlaughed and took her place under the water. “Remind me to teach you the proper attitude for a thrall. Perhaps I should have you call me Master.”
“Yeah, well, good luck with that.”
He washed his body and hair with almost as much efficiency as Tempest had hers. When he finished, he turned to see why she was so quiet and was shocked to see how young she appeared without all the makeup. Her dark eyes were large in her pale face. He felt a momentary twinge about his plans for her.
He even had a fleeting thought about finding another female to turn before he came back to his senses and remembered himself. What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t afraid of anything, but if his curse was going to turn him into a simpering, emotional idiot, he found that notion frightening.
He needed to get the ball rolling. “You look cold. Get back under the hot water for a minute.”
She stepped around him, moving under the hot water. She let the stream run over her body for several minutes, little involuntary moans validating the pleasureMalveaux easily sensed. The moans sang a special song to his rigid cock, and without even being aware of what he was doing, he inched forward and rubbed his hard thickness along the curve of Tempest’s ass.
She pushed against him ever so slightly, giving an unconscious vote of approval to his activity. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tighter against his c*ck while using his other hand to tip the water nozzle down to keep them out of the most forceful part of the shower stream.
Selecting a bottle of liquid bath gel from the plastic tray hanging from the shower head, he flipped open the top and poured a generous portion into his hand. A spicy aroma filled the air. He rubbed his palms together, divided the gel, and then cupped Tempest’s br**sts. As he spread the slick liquid in slow circles around her soft skin, her ni**les hardened. She sighed and rested her head againstMalveaux’s chest.
“I’m already clean. Why are you putting more soap on me?”
“This isn’t for cleaning. This is for touching.”
She was shorter without her stiletto heels, and he enjoyed the sensation of the top of her head fitting under his chin.
“Does that feel good?”Malveaux whispered. “Do you like when I touch you?” His c*ck brushed against her anus.
“Good doesn’t begin to cover it. I love when you touch me… Uh, I mean, I don’t really have any choice, do I?”
An unusual, warm sensation tingled through his body. He was absurdly pleased that she’d said she loved when he touched her, and he was impressed again by the strength of her mind. He hadn’t ever encountered a human who could fight against his mind control as Tempest did. She shouldn’t have been able to amend her statement as she had. Even among older vampires,Malveaux was powerful.
He gently twirled her to face him and worked his hands down her body, pausing to add more gel from the bottle. As he lathered the dark hair covering her mound, she groaned loudly, closed her eyes, and shifted so her legs opened a few more inches. Using one finger, he massaged the gel along her clit, waiting for her body to tell him when he’d reached her pleasure spot. Before he could begin to sense the subtle somatic cues, Tempest thought, Oooh, right there, and he replaced his finger with his cock. As he angled his erection in and out of her pu**y lips, she began rocking her hips, her breathing fast and shallow as she built toward peak.
Listening to her pant and moan droveMalveaux to the brink. He lifted Tempest by her ass and turned, his back blocking the water as he pressed her against the wall of the shower stall. He sent a mental command for her to wrap her legs around his hips, and he thrust himself into her in one smooth motion.