Bring On the Night (32 page)

Shane caressed my face. “That ends any doubts about you being a real vampire.”

The corners of my mouth trembled. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” He tightened his arms and rocked me gently. “I’m so sorry.”

I clung to him, mumbling a weak protest. I was tired of our apologies. I just wanted to be happy again.

David brought us each a water bottle, so cold they sweated. I gulped half of mine before speaking to him. “You need any help in the office?”

He shook his head. “You’ve been through enough this morning. Anyway, Jeremy’s coming in soon to stay until this quarantine is over. Frank, too.”

“Is Franklin okay to work?” Shane asked him.

“He says he’s going crazy sitting around his and Aaron’s house. He doesn’t want to be stuck there during the curfew, not when there’ll be so much to do here with the emergency services info network.”

I downed the rest of my water, forcing it past the lump of dread in my throat. The Lifeblood of Rock ’n’ Roll was about to become the Lifeline of the Siege of Sherwood.

But what bothered me more than anything? For two or
three milliseconds, as that front door opened, I was glad to see the sun.

All That Heaven Will Allow

“I need another shower,” I told Shane as we entered the empty common room of the DJs’ apartment. Dexter ran up to me and sniffed my hands with voracious breaths and what sounded like huffs of disapproval, or maybe I was just projecting.

“Go ahead. I’ll put some clean clothes inside the bathroom for when you get out.”

“Thanks.” I chewed my bottom lip, then stopped when my fang stabbed it. “Um,
where should I go afterward?”

His voice was solemn. “Where do you want to go?”

I hesitated, then settled on honesty. “Wherever you are.”

“I’ll be in our room.”

My gut fluttered at the sound of the word “our.” Maybe there was hope for us.

But once I was in the shower, the Ken/Regina episode replayed itself behind my eyelids. I scrubbed my skin so hard it would have bled had I still been human. I lathered and rinsed my hair and body five times before the water lost its heat. Then over the sink I brushed my teeth for ten minutes, stopping only to gargle and spit and start again.

Finally I dried my hair and dressed, then headed to our
room.

Shane was waiting for me under the covers, dressed in a T-shirt. I crawled over him to my spot next to the wall. We lay facing each other for a long moment, until I worked up the courage to speak.

“Did Regina tell you I wussed out?”

“She said you would tell me all about it.” He shifted his head on the pillow. “But if you’re not ready to talk…”

I brought my knees toward my chest, wishing I could hide. “Being a vampire is so fucked up.” I drew deep breaths to keep the sobs from bubbling out of my chest. Tears dribbled from my eyes.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I can’t.”

“Ciara, nothing could shock me.”

“Do you promise never to kill Ken or Regina?”

“I promise never to kill Regina. If only to avoid hurting myself.”

I wiped my face. “You were right. It wasn’t enough for him to be with her, and me just watching.”

Shane’s jaw clenched. “He wanted a threesome?”

“Not exactly.” My face flamed at the memory. “He wanted us to make out while he jerked off.”

He blew out a deep breath and turned on his back. “And Regina was okay with this?”

“She acted like I had no choice.”

Shane threw back the covers. “I’m going to kill her. I don’t care how much it hurts me.”

I put a hand on his arm. “I’m sure she believed my life depended on it.”

“No, she didn’t. But she has to cover every base to keep us from being exposed, whatever the cost, whether it’s taking
someone’s life or just their dignity.”

“They didn’t take my dignity. They borrowed it.” I squeezed his arm to calm him. “Please don’t make it worse with more fighting.”

His shoulders sagged, and he shook his head sadly. “Being a vampire doesn’t always have to be this fucked up. You’ll see.”

“When? When will things be normal? When will I be normal?” My voice started to choke with tears again. “Do I really need to drink someone during an orgasm? I can’t think of anyone I could stand to do that to.”

Shane lay beside me again and wiped the wetness from my cheek. “Not even me?”

A sharp thrill zinged through my body. “I thought vampire blood couldn’t nourish me.”

“No, but just like with human food, sometimes it’s not about nutrients.” His fingertips brushed my lips. “It’s about pleasure.”

My pulse thumped in my ears, and in other places that were thrilled to be alive. “Can I taste you?”

He slipped his middle finger against my left fang and pressed hard. Tooth slid through skin, into flesh. A single drop of blood hit my tongue.

I moaned as I drew his finger into my mouth and sucked hard. He closed his eyes, his lips parting.

It tasted better than anything in this life or the other. Nothing had ever felt so right inside me. And all without shame. I didn’t need this blood, so I lost no power in taking it.

His wound had healed already. “More,” I said, letting go of his finger before I could gnaw it off.

He sat up to remove his shirt. “You can bite me anywhere.” His eyes were lit with a new fire. “You can’t hurt
me.”

I touched the curve of his neck, where it met his shoulder. “Will you feel pain?”

“Just the right amount.” His mouth quirked. “You know I like it a little rough.”

I knew everything he liked. But as I ran my hand along the planes of his chest, I wanted to learn him all over again. “Let’s do this right. Let’s make love.”

He exhaled hard, desire mixed with tension. “Are you sure? You’ve been through a lot. Dying, becoming a vampire, almost getting fried by the sun.”

“Not to mention zombies.”

“I’m not sure we should put sex on top of all that.”

“I want to feel like me again.” I stroked his cheek with the back of my fingers. “Making love with you is normal.”

“It won’t feel normal. You’ve changed.”

I looked down at my body. “Everything works, right?”

He nodded. “But just like you’ve had to get used to your new skin and eyes and ears, you have to get used to your new muscles.”

The muscles that could totally ruin a human male’s day. “Will it hurt?”

“It might. Like when you lost your virginity.”

“I meant, will it hurt you?”

He gave a gentle laugh and brushed the hair out of my eyes. “You’re so sweet. No, it won’t hurt me. And you’ll be okay once you relax.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Instead of answering, Shane kissed me deep and slow, until I was melted wax molded against him. Then he pulled away a few inches and looked into my eyes.

“I’ll beg if I have to,” I whispered. “I’m not proud.”

His expression eased into a smile. “Sorry. It’s just that I’ve almost lost you too many times not to get overwhelmed at the sight of your face.”

Now I was melted all the way through. “If you think my face is overwhelming…”

In ten seconds flat I was naked. In twenty seconds, I had him in the same state. We kissed and stroked and explored each other’s bodies as if for the first time, reconsecrating our connection.

Finally he eased me to lie on top of his smooth, hard chest. “Go as slow as you need,” he said. “We can stop anytime.”

Trying not to hold my breath, I opened myself and guided him inside.

He was right—it hurt. I felt sixteen again, wondering if I could go through with it, if pleasure awaited me on the other side of such gut-rippling pain.

But I wasn’t sixteen, I was twenty-six. I wasn’t with an awkward, self-absorbed boy. I had a man of infinite patience and understanding.

Shane kissed me with a tenderness that eased the ache inside. “We can try again later.”

“I don’t want to wait.” I eased my hips down, but the pain shot back up my gut, making me grit my teeth. “I don’t suppose you have a smaller penis we could use.”

“Sorry, the mini version’s been in the shop for about thirty years. I probably lost the receipt by now.”

I laughed, and my muscles loosened. Shane stroked my lower back, relaxing me further. His hands crept around behind my thighs, then he slipped a single exploring finger
between my cheeks.

As in life, my new body responded instantly to that most intimate touch. I quivered as a sudden warmth flooded within, allowing him to move deeper inside me.

He let me control the pace, and I went slow, savoring the new sensations. The way his palms lit up the surface of my skin, the way his tongue scraped and rolled my nipples, the way his muscles coiled beneath my hands—it all helped ease the hot, hard pain and turn it into a building, blinding pleasure.

“I love you,” he murmured in a shaky breath as I came—with deep, quiet cries—wrapped in his arms. Then he pressed my face to his neck and said, “Do it now.”

I opened my mouth wide and gave in to instinct.

His body seized with the first bite, and his arms tightened around me. But no blood came.

“Harder,” he gasped. “My skin’s tougher than a human’s.”

“I don’t want to hit an artery.” The last thing we needed was blood on the ceiling.

“You can’t. Your fangs aren’t long enough.” He turned us over to put himself on top. Then he slid a hand behind my head and pulled my mouth to his neck. “Do it.”

I stabbed hard. The blood came, and I licked it eagerly before the wound could heal. His taste flooded my senses. I finally understood why this act was described with words like delicious, sexy, trippy. Sacred.

“Yes.” He pressed against my mouth as he thrust deep. “Do it again. Now.” He gave a long, shuddering groan as his orgasm pulsed within me. I could feel it stronger than ever and realized I was close to the edge again myself.

I bit him, so hard it jarred my jaw.

Oh. My. Gooooooood.

He tasted like liquid fireworks coated in spiced honey, like lightning basted in barbecue sauce, like heaven and hell suspended in maple syrup.

My moan mingled with his as white heat slammed through my body. The fire shot from my tongue, down my throat, all the way to my core and back again. I met his thrusts with new strength, every muscle flaring with the electricity that arced between us.

Shane clutched me close, filling me with himself, until I knew he’d never let me go. Until I knew that this Ciara—the cold, undead, less-perfect-than-ever Ciara—was the one he loved.

We came to a stop, letting our breath slow, without parting even an inch. My fangs had receded, but I kept my mouth against his skin, tasting his sweat and the last drops of blood. His own mouth was pressed to my hair.

Finally he turned his head and stared down at me, as if seeing me for the first time. “Now I know why you always said I was alive.”

“Why?”

“You’re alive, Ciara.” He ran his hand down my body, following the curves of my waist and hip. “You’re even sweating.”

“No different from the way you always were with me.”

“That’s what I mean.” He brushed his lips over my forehead. “With you, I’ve lived. Without you…”

“There is no without me. You’re stuck.”

If I survive
, I added mentally. If I ever got over my hang-ups about drinking from humans. If one day it didn’t feel like whoring myself or turning off part of my soul.

But lying there with Shane’s arms around me, hearing
his familiar quiet breath as he slid into sleep, I felt like I’d taken the first step. He’d shown me that it could be beautiful, something no one else could have done.

And even if I never felt that way with anyone else, even if every human’s blood turned my stomach and withered my soul, I would do whatever it took not to leave Shane and this world behind.

I would live.

Waiting in Vain

I woke at 5 p.m. with a mad need to pee, thanks to that bottle of water. I crawled across Shane, trying not to knee him in the groin in the process.

“Where you going?” Eyes slitted, he tried to tug me back into bed.

“Bathroom. Urgent.” I shoved against his chest. “Ack!” I tumbled onto the floor, knocking my head against the dresser.

He peered over the edge of the bed. “You’re still learning your strength.”

Grumbling, I picked myself up, slipped into my clothes, and headed for the bathroom.

While I was in there, I sensed someone in the common room.
Let it be Monroe
. I walked down the hall, making no effort to mask my sounds, my mind whispering
please, please, please
with each step.

In one of the overstuffed armchairs, Noah looked up from the book he was reading. I glanced at Monroe’s closed door.

“Still no,” Noah said.

I rubbed the aching spot on my chest. “What are you doing up so early?”

“I could not sleep.” He took off his glasses and set them
on the end table. “Regina kicks.”

“I bet she does.” I shuffled one foot behind the other, feeling awkward at the mention of his sort-of girlfriend, who had put her hands and mouth on me just a few hours ago. “What are you reading?”

He turned the book around so I could see the cover. “Camus’s
La Peste
,” I read aloud.
The Plague
. “Appropriate.”

“French makes me drowsy.” Noah opened the book to the place his finger was marking. “Sit. I will read to you.”

I padded over to the sofa and sat down, curling my feet underneath me. Noah picked up his glasses and began to clean them with the tail of his long red, green, and gold cotton shirt.

“I’ve always wondered—why do you wear glasses? Vampires’ eyes are perfect.”

“They remind me of being human.” He adjusted the dark frames on the bridge of his nose. “And they look good.”

I couldn’t help smiling. “They do. And at least you don’t have to fool with contact lenses and all that cleaning stuff.” I thought of Tina and her elaborate nightly ritual.

Huh. Wait a minute. Control Enforcement agents were supposed to have at least 20/50 uncorrected vision. How did she get assigned to that branch?