Blood Hunter (The Grandor Descendant Series) (3 page)

“You know,” he said, lifting Ari up onto the counter and wrapping her legs around his waist, “I have wanted to do this ever since I bought this plane.”

Ari didn’t respond; she was trying hard to keep her breathing regular, but soon her chest began to rise and fall, faster and faster, spurred on when Ragon’s tongue placed tiny kisses down her stomach. She barely had enough time to draw breath before Ragon kissed her on the lips again, this time much more hungrily.

“Do you love me?” he asked, ending their kiss so as to use his teeth to toy with her lower lip; she nodded back, reaching up to grab his hair so as to force him to prolong their kiss. “Good,” he added, slowly beginning to unbutton her jeans before pulling them and her top all the way down her body, “how much?”

Ari laughed and whispered, “Too much… way more than I should.”

Ragon let a small grin spread across his face and closed the space between them, forcing Ari’s back up against the mirror. Though he was still fully clothed, Ari ground her body towards him, her back arching as she tried to press every inch of herself up against him. Spurred on by this, Ragon’s kisses became increasingly voracious, as though their tongues had been fasted from each other for days, if not weeks. Breaking her attention from Ragon’s lips, Ari glanced down and began undoing his belt buckle. There was a look of mischief on Ragon’s face and before Ari could pull away his belt, he had reached for it.

He toyed with the leather strap in his hands for a moment then in a blur, locked Ari’s arms together, pulling the belt around them as he fastened them over her head. Still holding tight to the belt, Ragon removed his clothing, so fast that Ari saw only the blur of his pale flesh and finely tone muscles, before he was pressed up against her once more.

“Wait! What if-” began Ari, but Ragon pulled tightly on the belt around her wrists and pressed a finger to her mouth as he shushed her, laughing wickedly to himself when Ari fell silent.   

After that Ragon reached down, placing his hand between her legs so as to rub the inside of her thighs.

Ari let out a moan of pleasure, which was quickly stiffened when Ragon pressed a hand over her mouth, kissing her cheeks as he whispered, “Hush my love.”

Then, still with his hand lightly against her lips, Ragon adjusted his position and thrust into her. She cried out in pleasure, just as Ragon finally released her bound hands, which immediately flew to his hair as she interlocked a few strands of the dark brown locks between her fingers.

Then the noise of the bathroom door opening shocked both of them and Ragon whipped around to see Sandra. Sandra looked just as startled as they were. She had a vial of something blood red in her fingers, which she had been opening and about to drink. At the sight of Ari and Ragon, her eyes widened and she backed out of the bathroom, the vial still pressed up against her lips as she mumbled an apology.

“Whoops,” said Ragon, leaving Ari on the counter as he raced to the door and locked it, so that the red ‘occupied’ sign was visible.

“How could you not lock the door?” asked Ari, her face crimson.

“I suppose,” he said, racing back to her as he began kissing slowly down her neck, “I was distracted.”

Ari was still feeling embarrassed, but this emotion was quickly replaced when Ragon reached down between her legs and gently rubbed. Letting out a long moan she locked eyes with him; he had entirely recaptured her attention and was kissing her again, this time keeping his fingers where they were as he thrust into once more.

When Ari and Ragon finally emerged from the bathroom, half an hour later, they did not join the rest of the coven in the cabin but crept to the very back of the plane. Ari was grateful they were not going back to see the others just yet; her cheeks were blushed and hinted of her previous pleasures and the embarrassment from being caught in the act by Sandra. Though she and Sandra had often spoke of their sexual experiences, it was one thing for Ari to ask advice about a vampire-human relationship, it was quite another for Sandra to witness a demonstration of one.  

“Where are we going?” asked Ari, straightening her shirt as she followed Ragon.

Ragon had led her to the empty crew quarters and immediately begun rummaging through his suitcase, finally retrieving a black beanie. Ari smiled and took the beanie in her hand.

“I always loved it when I saw you at uni and you were wearing this,” she said, flattening his hair and placing the beanie on his head; the dark beanie seemed to highlight his stubble and eyebrows and soon Ari found herself lost in his green eyes.

“I’ll never take it off,” he said, winking at her.

“You know, you and I… it’s kind of like a fairy tale.”

“Except in most fairy tales, the princess ends up with the prince… not the monster.”

“That’s not true!” she said; then in her best sarcastic tone added, “Haven’t you seen Shrek?”

Ragon looked confused and Ari laughed; clearly vampires didn’t watch Disney movies. Well, she would have to change that.    

When Ari and Ragon finally made their way back to their seats, Ryder and Patrick were cuddled up together asleep, while Thomas sat watching Sandra, who was staring out the window. Ari was glad of Sandra’s preoccupation, but couldn’t help blushing when Clyde looked at her sideways; vampires were capable of excellent hearing, something which she had learnt the hard way, having lived in a house with a coven of them for the past few months. As she retook her seat, she fought hard to keep her face straight, trying not to imagine what Clyde might have heard while Ari and Ragon were joining the mile high club in the bathroom. Still, if vampires could hear so well, why then had Sandra walked in on them? What had made her so preoccupied that she hadn’t heard Ari’s screaming heart in the bathroom?

“I am absolutely famished,” said Clyde, finally breaking eye contact with Ari, so as to hold up his empty bottle of Jack Daniels, waggling it in the air, “Ragon, I, err may need to reimburse you.”

“Just as long as you stick to the bottled stuff and keep your fangs off the crew,” whispered Ragon, watching as Clyde spun around in his seat to admire the hostess, who had walked to the cockpit, a fresh cup of coffee in her hands.

The moment the hostess was out of sight, Clyde turned to face Ragon, a sour look on his face.

“Surely if I left the pilot alone… what difference will it matter if you don’t have a hostess?” he asked.

“I’d like not to have to worry about a workplace health and safety lawsuit,” said Ragon, and Ari laughed. “Besides, Chantelle is not just a hostess, she is a trainee co-pilot; her and Bert take it in shifts to fly the plane. So unless you really do want to find out whether Ari is capable of suspending us all in mid-air, I suggest you keep your fangs to yourself and wait until we land.”    

The pair continued to glare at each other for another minute, before Clyde finally looked down at his empty glass, sighed, then raced to the bar, returning a moment later with a second bottle of Jack Daniels in hand.

“So, are we doing anything for new year’s eve?” asked Clyde, tipping a thick stream of the dark liquid into his glass. “It is tonight.”

Ari shrugged; her attention was back with Sandra. She had not even acknowledged the return of Ragon and Ari, but had again begun searching her bag furiously, apparently looking for something. 

“Lost something?” asked Thomas, leaning closer so as to help, but Sandra yanked her hand bag away and shook her head.

“Well, there should be plenty of parties we can crash,” said Clyde, now looking at Sandra with his eyebrow’s furrowed.

“Yea,” said Sandra, suddenly interested in the conversation, “maybe Astel is throwing-”

“-what?” said Ragon quickly, glaring at Clyde and Sandra in disbelief. “We’re not going to any parties and we’re certainly not going to an Elder’s New Year’s Eve party! In case you have forgotten, but we aren’t going to England for a holiday; we’re going there to try and find out why the Ancients are after Ari. I don’t want a repeat of the Elder’s Halloween party and I certainly don’t want you,” he added, glaring at Clyde, “sticking your fangs into everything with a pulse, and drawing unnecessary attention to us. The Ancients have no idea where Ari is and I intend to keep it that way.”

Sandra and Clyde immediately fell silent. Though Ari wasn’t particularly happy about Ragon treated her like a china doll, and berating Clyde and Sandra for merely suggesting they have a New Year’s Eve party, she thought that Ragon did have a point. At the Halloween party the Elders had thrown in Brisbane, she had nearly been killed by Kiara… again. She wasn’t in a hurry to pretend to be a source any time soon.

“Well, maybe just a mortal one then,” Clyde suggested, looking down at his now empty glass as he poured himself another, “I am so thirsty.”

“Thirsty?” asked Ragon, his eyes straying to the empty bottle of Jack Daniels still beside Clyde. “Seriously? I’m already going to have to restock the bar; how much can one vampire drink?”

Clyde smiled mischievously and winked at Ari, but did not answer.

Many hours later, Ari woke to the plane drastically changing its course in the air. She looked up, realising that the seatbelt sign was glowing red and frantically hurried to do up her belt, but it was already fastened into place.

“We’re landing love,” said Ragon. “Told you I wouldn’t let you fall from the sky.”

Clyde, who had snorted very loudly at this, quickly glanced down at his empty drink and then back over to the bar. There were two empty bottles of Jack Daniels by his feet; apparently he had finished the second one during Ari’s sleep. He seemed to hesitate in his seat, then, glancing playfully up at the red seatbelt sign, raced from his chair and towards the bar. Once there he rummaged through the remaining selection of alcohol, apparently unable to decide between an old looking bottle of merlot and an even older looking pinot noir.

“Seat belts!” said the annoyed attendant, seeing that Clyde was not in his seat.

Clyde’s mouth opened indignantly as if he were about to argue, but the continued glare from Chantelle made him cower back to his seat, without a refresher glass.

“Now I really wish I bit her,” he mumbled to himself.

When finally the plane touched down, Ari was more than ready to leave. As soon as the automatic door began to open, she jumped from her seat, waiting in front of it in anticipation. It seemed to take forever for the pressurised hatch to prise away from the interior of the plane. When it was fully opened, she looked out to the misty, grey haze that was England. An icy breeze was sucked into the plane and she shivered, feeling the sting of the frost against her cheeks. The cloudy grey sky hinted that it might be close to sunset, but when Ari looked up she could just make out the sun, hiding bashfully behind thick rain clouds. For as far as the eye could see there was nothing bar concrete runways and just beyond this, high wire fences. This airport was nothing at all compared to the one they had left Australia from. Brisbane airport was large and busy, with many enormous planes coming and going along the vast airstrip. The airport here looked as if it was barely used.

Ari had just taken her first step past the threshold when she felt Ragon’s cold hand on her shoulder. Suddenly her eyes widened in alarm; the sun… Ragon was about to walk right into it.

“NO!” she screamed, turning around and throwing her body through the air so that she smashed hard into Ragon.

The pair fell back into the plane, Ari landing sprawled on top of him halfway down the aisle.

“What’s wrong?” asked Ragon, looking up curiously at Ari’s alarmed face.

“The s… sun!”

Ragon smiled, helped Ari to her feet and moved over to the door.

Reaching a hand slowly through it he held it there for a moment, and then his face contorted into agony and he screamed. Ari’s heart hammered in her chest and she held her breath, just as Ragon quickly pulled his arm back into the safety of the dark plane. A hearty laughter soon reverberated through the cabin and Ari spun around in confusion, to see that Clyde was laughing.

“But…” she said, her mouth opening in surprise as she looked from Clyde and back over to Ragon, who was also smiling.

“I’m just playing,” said Ragon, moving over to her quickly and showing her his hand; it looked entirely normal.

How as that possible? There was no burning flesh, no sizzling skin, not even a blister; no hint whatsoever of damage from the sun.