Primal Cravings (18 page)

Leviathan thought the old mortal might try to pat him reassuringly on the shoulder, and turned away. “It was a vision. It was true.”

“Dream. Vision. It doesn’t matter,” the prisoner said. “In a couple of days you’ll have destroyed the world. Go away and let us day dwellers go back to sleep while we still can.”

Leviathan walked away from the mortals, the damned day dwellers. He walked from the cave, into the welcome night. He heard one of the old men yawn as he walked out. To think that he was depending on these frail creatures to bring him what he needed was grossly laughable.

And to think he was trying to rescue a lost brother who was caught in the complex spiderwebs the Matri wove around their males. They called them Primes, made them believe in their power, and used them as slaves.

The bitches had forced Yakov to let a female taste his blood. A female mortal at that. Leviathan might have been dozing when the knowledge forced itself on him, but he knew it was no dream.

When he left the cave, Leviathan walked down to the creek that ran through the property. The cave was situated on a hillside behind a mansion on the oak-lined creek. Their hiding place seemed isolated but was, in fact, in an exclusive neighborhood in the popular town. The owners were gone for the winter, but the Cave magician was right to assert that Leviathan’s psychic talent was needed to hide them. He couldn’t run to Yakov’ s aid. He admitted to himself that he couldn’t rescue his brother from a Clan Citadel. He had to wait, be patient, trust the Cave wizard.

Leviathan sat down on a boulder above the rushing water. He put his hands on the cold rock. He closed his eyes. He let the frustrated energy flow from him into the earth.

It was no surprise to Leviathan when the ground around him began to shake a little.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Jake wrapped his hands around the brass headboard, crushing it in his grip. He arched his back as Delilah rode his cock, and he howled in pleasure. The sweet taste of her blood was still on his tongue. His blood was in her. Hot blood called to hot blood, mingled, burned white hot through their veins.

Bliss. Utter, complete bliss.

Dee dropped forward on top of him. Her breasts pressed against his chest, her hips ground against his hips. Her heat surrounded him, sent him up and over the edge. His explosion triggered hers, reverberated between them, completed them. Exhaustion took him when the orgasm finally ebbed.

He grabbed Dee around the waist, moved her off him to tuck her against his side. Her head came to rest on his naked shoulder. She sighed into his ear, the soft sound and warm breath caressing him. She was asleep already. He reveled in being so at one with her that he was aware of her thoughts sinking into dreams. Of his dreams sinking into her, joining them.

The next thing Jake was aware of were lips brushing his throat, then moving to kiss his ear. He heard a soft, familiar sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Dee said.

What do you have to be sorry for?
He didn’t have the strength to speak.

“For that woman not giving you the choice.”

Maybe she didn’t have the strength to think. Or was reluctant to share her thoughts with him—because she was sorry about drinking his blood.

“Shotgun wedding,” he said. “That’s what happens when Matris get involved. They’re all about the mating part of life. They can’t help it.”

“Well…it should have been your choice.”

“Vampires aren’t a democracy. You are the one who should have been given the choice.”

“Yes, I am. Still, I suppose the Matris were right, about this being inevitable. You can’t stop a bonding, right?”

Jake opened his eyes. He looked at the ceiling, not sure where they were or how long they’d been there, or even caring. The bed was soft. Every drop of blood they’d shared, all the times their bodies and souls joined, blended together into an exhausted, satiated haze were what mattered, not where it happened. There were some bright, sharp memories amid the mists, but mostly he was absorbed in the experience.

Dee was stretched out along his side, every warm, soft touch of her body against his absolutely perfect. The mingled scents of sex and her sweet aroma filled the air around him. Every part of him—body, soul, blood—simmered and hummed in satisfaction which was already growing into fresh need.

“Right now, I can’t imagine wanting to.”

* * *

But what about tomorrow?
Dee wondered. She didn’t want to think about it, but Jake’s words had not been all that reassuring. Or maybe she was just paranoid.

“Maybe you are just paranoid,” he said.

“Am I?”

“There’s no going back for us, even if we want to.”

“Do we want to?”

“I know what we want right now.”

Not an answer. But as his hands began to roam over her and his mouth found her breast, conversation didn’t seem important any more. Especially after the sharp prick of fangs over her nipple sent Dee into the first ecstatic orgasm.

“You—you’re going to get fat,” she said after a few glorious moments of out-of-body pleasure. She ran her hands through Jake’s soft, dark hair. She was glad he didn’t wear it as short as many of the Dark Angels. “Can vampires get fat?”

Not that I know of.

Jake kissed and nipped his way down her body, drawing moans, and shudders of pleasure from her. “Sweet Goddess, help me!” Dee begged when he lifted her hips and settled his mouth on the damp, slick center between her legs.

Jake’s mouth was busy, but his thoughts replied,
No mercy.

Oh, thank goodness,
she thought back. Dee reveled in the work of his busy tongue.

Jake’s timing was as exquisite as his touch. He waited to sink his fangs into her thigh until she began to peak with a deep, explosive orgasm. He moved swiftly up, thrusting into her while her insides rippled and tightened with uncontrollable pleasure. Pleasure which built all over again with each hard, swift stroke of his cock.

* * *

It was the aroma of fresh coffee that took Dee’s attention from sex and memories of sex into a world that had more than mating in it. She lifted her head from where it rested on Jake’s chest, blew strands of hair from her face, and turned her head left, following her nose.

She didn’t know how it had gotten there, and hoped it wasn’t delivered during one of her and Jake’s frequent bouts of lovemaking, but she was so pleased to see the tray of food and drink she didn’t want to know.

Before she could slip out of bed she had to pry Jake’s arm from around her, which took a while. When she finally got up, she found a pair of black silk robes laid across the foot of the bed. Just how much sneaking around without their noticing had been done in here? Well, there was no reason to get all bent out of shape about it.

“I’m already bent out of shape enough.” Dee laughed, and stretched, and rubbed an aching spot on one hip. She walked slowly to the small table near a patio door and surveyed the treasures waiting there. There was a lot of food. There was a plate stacked with ham, bacon, sausages, and other forms of protein. Protein was very important to vampires. It was pretty important to Dee, too, as her rumbling stomach informed her. She was munching on a strip of crispy bacon before she noticed she’d picked it up.

Heavenly.

There were pastries, and toast, and a carafe of what she at first thought was blood but decided was tomato juice. A little vampire joke? And there was the tall silver pot of coffee. Dee poured herself a fine china cup full of rich brown liquid, slugged it down with far less respect than the exquisite flavor deserved, and headed for the bathroom.

Chapter Thirty-Three

When she emerged back in the bedroom after the longest, hottest shower she could stand, a still naked Jake Piper was sitting at the table. When she pulled up a chair opposite him, she instantly noticed that there wasn’t a lot of food left. So, if he was trying to distract her with the magnificent sight of himself, it didn’t work.

She glared.

He handed over a small plate containing a selection of pastries and a trio of chocolate-dipped strawberries. “I saved you some.”

“Girl food.” She snatched the last slice of ham from Jake’s plate and made a sandwich with a croissant. She poured herself a glass of tomato juice.

Jake made a disgusted face as she took a sip.

“What?” she asked.

“That stuff’s nasty.”

“But—it looks like—never mind.”

Dee drank the tomato juice and studied the Prime across from her. His hair was tousled, he needed a shave, and all this scruffy looked wonderful on him. She smiled. Possessively.

He noticed.

She even found his smirk adorable. Love? Lust? Bonding? Was it all the same?

“Let’s not think about it right now,” Jake said. “We have more important things to work out. We need to get back to work.”

“Amen,” she answered instantly. Maybe too quickly from the moment of shock they shared. And the fierce agreement. “Well, the op is more important than our personal lives.”

Jake nodded, and they looked into each other’s eyes for a few moments. They didn’t share thoughts, but shared emotions which were completely in sync. They were Dark Angels, members of Tobias Strahan’s Crew. The Op came first.

“I think I know what we need to do,” Dee finally said. She poured them fresh cups of coffee. “We need to get back to basics,” she went on.

“Go back to Tobias’s
feeling
?” Jake asked.

“Remember when he made us do the join-hands-have-visions séance thing and he saw red rocks and we weren’t forthcoming about what we really saw?” She took a breath. “We should have been. I realize now that it was important.”

Suddenly there was nothing relaxed about Jake Piper. He looked away from her, his gaze taking in the room. It was decorated in the big brass bed, carved wooden furniture, and Spanish tiles, the walls warm terra cotta. There was a long oblong mirror set in a hammered silver frame. He frowned at the sight of the mirror.

“A very pretty prison,” he said.

“Focus, Yakov,” Dee said. She opened her robe, baring her breasts. That got him looking at her again.

“How am I supposed to focus when you do that?”

She grinned. “Come on, partner. Time to be honest with each other about our visions. What did you see?”

“You said you saw porn.”

“I was joking.”

“You’re blushing, Delilah. It makes your freckles glow.”

“It does not!” Dee laughed. “Maybe a little.” She gestured around the room. “What I saw was this. You and me and a lot of sex.” She looked into her coffee cup. A pity it wasn’t tea with dregs of leaves to interpret. “I thought it was my imagination. I didn’t think I was given to visions. I was wrong.”

He smiled at her. It was gentle, understanding, wry. It warmed her heart, melted her worries away, gave her confidence. It teased a return smile from her, a warm connection with this—other half of her soul.

His smile disappeared almost instantly.

He took a deep breath and his pain stretched between them.

Dee wanted to take him in her arms, but she stayed where she was. “Tell me.”

“This is hard.”

“Suck it up, soldier.”

Jake scratched his ear. He started to speak a couple times, then finally looked her in the eye. “I’ve told you about my brothers. Melchor died in a fight with Clan Primes. He was defending what Levi did. Levi was wrong no matter how—”

“What did Levi do?”

“He killed a Reynard Clan female. We can’t afford to kill the mothers of our species. Levi never had any filters. He always did just what he wanted to do, and declared it was for the good of the Tribe even when it was his temper going out of control. It wasn’t for the good of the Tribe when what he did got us turned out and hunted down by Clans, Families, and Tribes. We were so screwed. You know that I turned myself in but the others died.”

“Giving you tremendous survivor’s guilt.”

“As you have noticed.”

“How does your family figure into your vision?”

“Melchor,” he said. “I thought I saw my brother Melchor. When I said he was dead, he told me that he wasn’t dead everywhere. And I’ve been seeing him, or almost seeing him, whenever I look into a mirror ever since. And sometime I think I hear Levi calling to me.” He folded his hands together on the tabletop. “Tell me, my dearest witch, what does your romantic premonition and my survivor’s guilt have to do with our assignment?”

“And let us not forget the earthquakes,” she added. And whatever else he’d seen that he still hadn’t decided to tell her. “All of it must come together somehow.”

“And oaks, water, and red rocks.”

“Mirrors.” She got up and walked to the room’s mirror. Something nagged at her. A conversation she ought to remember. Something she’d been reading when—

“I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”

She glanced toward Jake. “What am I doing?”

“Making me hot.”

“I’m just standing here.”

He stood and came toward her. “That’s all you have to do.”

“If we keep this up we’re never going to get back to work,” she told him. But Dee didn’t try to stop him when he picked her up and carried her back to the bed.

* * *

It must have been two hours later—there was no clock in the room and Dee found the winter sunlight even over the California desert hard to interpret.

“It was just after dawn when we went back to bed,” Jake told her. His voice was muffled, as his face was between her breasts. “Vampires have an exquisite sense of time. Self-preservation.”

“Of course you do, and of course it is.” She grasped his ears and moved his head so she could get up. He murmured a complaint, but followed her out of bed. “How long have we been incarcerated?” she asked.

“That I cannot tell you. I’ve been suffering from bonding madness.”

Dee tilted her head to one side. “I wonder if there was a Prime among the original
Star Trek
writers?
Pon Farr?
” she said to his puzzled look. “The Vulcan seven-year mating cycle from the
Amok Time
episode?”