Blood Eternal (25 page)

“Nobody’s perfect,” Savannah said.

“I realize the truth of those words now.” He shrugged. “I was young and naive. She seemed perfect to me then. Beautiful, innocent and fresh. Of course, I can think back now and see we did not know each other well, but in those days, people did not court for years. I loved her in my way and I know she returned the sentiment.”

Savannah shifted to her side on the rug and supported her head with one hand, and he could not help but admire the soft curve of her hip. “You still love her,” she said.

“Yes. Although my love for her has changed with time, I believe some part of me will always love her.” Or the happiness she represented in his mind. “But that is neither here nor there. You asked how I became a vampire. It happened over two hundred years ago and Victoria and I were on our holiday—what you now refer to as a honeymoon—in Rome. We strolled late one night, but I did not fear easily. I enjoyed a young man’s stupidity.”

“Huh, I’m not sure you’re talking only about young men.”

“Such a bitter statement.” He clenched a fist, hating life’s cruelty.

“I only speak from experience,” she replied, head bowed.

“I know, and you must forgive me. I have committed wrongs and if given a chance, I would change many of them. But I cannot turn back time.”

She nodded. “What happened?”

“When the attack started, I thought I had everything under control. They wanted our money and there were only two of them. I quickly left them indisposed. But when I finished, there were more of them and they held Victoria.”

As Savannah sat up and pulled her knees close to her chest, her anxiety encircled him, squeezing. He breathed in deep in a futile attempt to overcome the potent sentiment.

“Two men held her to the wall as another two taunted me. I think I must have gone mad, as the rest is a blur.” Or so he wanted to believe. He still recalled the flash of light as one fired a pistol. The burn as a bullet sliced through his shoulder and the scent of gun powder infiltrating the air along with a cloud of smoke.

“Were you hurt?” Her voice sounded far away.

“They fired several rounds, grabbed anything of value and ran.”

“You were shot.” As if she expected him to still show some sign of injury, she combed his form with her gaze. “And Victoria?”

Beneath the echoes of the men’s shouts and laughter, he barely heard what Savannah had said. He could still feel the bullet’s sting and the cold cobblestones beneath him as he crawled to his wife’s limp body. The impression of her pale, icy skin would be imprinted on him forever.

“Luke?”

“She was dead.” He shut his eyes, described what he remembered as clearly as if it happened yesterday. “I moved over to help even though I knew I could not change fate. Like some beautiful porcelain doll, she lay still and cold. Her eyes remained open, lifeless. A growing puddle of blood stained her gray dress.”

“I’m sorry,” Savannah said.

“As am I. And yet, I cannot help but wonder if she was the lucky one.” He met her gaze.

Her emerald eyes looked huge in her pale countenance, and she squeezed the blanket on her lap.

“Do not look so surprised. Two hundred years later, I can concede my kind has some advantages, but I would never have chosen to become what I am.”

“Why did you become a vampire?”

“Please, Savannah.” He stood and paced, suddenly too anxious to sit. “Are you so naive? Do you not think I begged as they came to my wife and I like vultures to a small feast? My only consolation was they refused to touch her. Stale blood is like venom to my kind.”

“Did it hurt?”

Luke ran a hand through his hair. The pain might have been excruciating but after losing Victoria, he’d felt nothing. Numbness had dominated him. “There are those who say transition is the worst possible pain a human can feel. I honestly must say, I could not feel a thing. My mind had left me.”

“Sometimes helplessness is the worst pain.” She curved her lips in a sad sort of smile. “Time in the hospital, an ambulance ride, physical therapy—that was the easy part for me.”

Muscles taut with the anticipation he would finally hear her story, he sat.

“My turn to share a bit about my past. You know Ben and I were engaged but you don’t know what it was like living with him. I too was foolish. Seems to be a trait common to women also. Deep down inside I knew he treated me awfully. I became a trophy and played my part with pride. Who wouldn’t enjoy glamour at first?” She bit her lip and turned away. “I behaved an idiot, but to my credit, I thought it was real. That they were my friends, and Ben loved me.” She laughed, the sound bitter. He wanted to comfort her but doubt left him immobile. “How ridiculous it sounds now, huh?”

“Not ridiculous. Innocent.” He ached to catch the tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “That night, the night I got hit, I remember lying there. I woke up and couldn’t feel my legs, or my arms, but I lay awake. I could see and hear. At times I wish I had gone deaf and blind. Only for the moment Ben denied knowing me.” A sob wracked her as she bent her head. “I lay there dying, helpless, a few feet away from him and Ben said he didn’t know me. He would have left me to die on a cold, hard street. And to think I was ready to spend my life with him.”

Bloody bastard. Unable to help himself, he wrapped her trembling form in his arms. “I am sorry.” This indeed was a pain beyond any he could imagine. Victoria had never refused his affections. “If you want me to, I will find him and make him my lunch.”

She laughed through her tears and huddled into the crook of his shoulder. “No, but thank you. I mostly feel sorry for him now. If you asked me a year or so ago, I probably would have said yes.” She twisted her lips into a sad smile.

Luke nodded because it seemed the right thing to do. Savannah was more gracious than he would ever be. For over two hundred years, he’d pitied those so consumed by greed they could not truly appreciate good in life.

How truly ironic. His obsession with vengeance did not leave him that far removed from those he pitied.

“I want to ask you a question.” She paused as if searching for the right words. “The men who attacked you and Victoria, you killed them, didn’t you?”

He’d assumed she would ask him this sooner or later, although he had hoped it would be later. “Yes,” he replied. “I will not lie. I must tell you I relished it in the moment. Regret for what I became followed later.”

“There’s no reason for you to regret what happened. It was not your fault.”

“Coming from the woman who finds me repulsive?” He studied her face, searching for something he could not name. The hollow space at the base of her neck pulsed rapidly between the lapels of her open shirt collar.

“I don’t find you repulsive. I just... I don’t know.” She sighed.

Unwilling to wait for her to find words, he leaned in, slipped his hand beneath her collar, cupped the back of her neck and pressed his lips to hers. A groan stirred in his chest as she sank into him.

* * * *

Savannah’s muscles stiffened when it dawned on her she kissed him back, and she pulled away. Luke’s touch gentled, but his body thrummed with restrained power as he hovered above her. His gaze deepened to midnight as he studied her, focused on her lips then met her stare.

She lifted her chin. Her breaths deafened in the silence. “We start this, we finish it.” Her pulse skipped into turbo speed as she waited for a reply.

He brushed strands of hair back from her face, caressing the line of her jaw. “Are you sure?”

“I won’t lie to you either. I’m nervous, but I’m a grown woman. Let me deal with my emotions.”

“You are not answering my question.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she whispered and let her eyelids fall closed as he slipped an arm around her waist and hoisted her to a kneeling position.

“Enchanting,” he murmured as he brushed his mouth along her cheekbone, cradling her to him as if she weighed nothing. “Look at me, Savannah.”

Guiding her into the middle of the lush rug, he laid her down. With one tug, he pulled his sweater over his head and tossed it aside. The fire’s shadows leaped across the ridges of his abs and chest, highlighting his strength. Her stomach flexed in anticipation. “Light from the flames suits you.” She reached up and traced them across his skin.

“Now you.” Luke shoved the hem of her collared shirt over her stomach and ribs. Beneath the dim lighting, a blush stole over her skin. “So soft.” With his thumbs, he caressed her ribcage and the underside of her breasts as he inched her shirt up higher. Her instinct was to cover herself, but he caught her wrists. “Do not hide from me. Take off your shirt.”

She did as asked then lifted her pelvis. One by one, he undid the buttons of her jeans, eased them over her hips and down her thighs. Despite the fire, the air cooled her skin. “What about you?” She fidgeted under his stare.

“Do you realize how special you are?” he asked.

Did she? Could she? Without thinking, she brought her hand up and fingered a long scar over her collarbone.

“The outside is stunning, but not what I am referring to. I mean you, Savannah Michaels. All of you,” he said, brushing kisses along her jaw and over the curve of her neck. He lingered on the rise of her breasts, and beneath his lips, her heart raced. She didn’t understand why her stomach fluttered even as her feet and hands dug into the rug. She wanted this. Her body grew heated, her breathing uneven.

He removed his pants and briefs then covered her with his body, engulfing her frame with his size. He suckled one pink nipple, rolling his tongue around the tip.

Savannah moaned, arching beneath him as she pushed against his mouth. He represented pure strength. Muscles in his stomach and arms flexed as he held himself above her.

“What about Broderick?” she asked, suddenly remembering they weren’t alone. The realization sent a thrill coursing through her.

“If he wants to live, he will not depart his room.” Between her thighs, he held her core, cupping it as he slid two thick fingers into her. “Moist,” he whispered, gently pumping in and out.

The sensation of being spread and filled nearly pushed her over the edge. Following his rhythm, she undulated her hips, bringing him deeper with every roll of her pelvis.
More
she thought, her impatience growing as his pumps slowed.

Luke let out a soft, deep laugh. “Patience, my pet. Relax.” He eased from her, kissed her ribs and stomach. “It will be worth the wait.”

She inhaled, then released a slow exhalation, concentrating on calming her pulsing insides. His kisses fluttered over her stomach and inner thighs, and her muscles tensed in anticipation. When his tongue flicked her clit, she whimpered and her back bowed upward. “Please, hurry.”

Hands supporting the curve of her spine, he pulled her closer, suckled, flicked and prodded. The caress of his lips rivaled heaven.

Her hips and torso writhed beyond control. “Luke, please.”

As he pulled away and slid up her body, the friction from their skin touching tantalized her. Kissing her passionately, he wedged her legs apart with a knee. “Open for me, love.”

He couldn’t move fast enough as he slipped on a condom. She’d come apart, waiting. Then he hovered over her entrance and thrust forward.

She lifted her pelvis and met his drive forward, enjoying his thickness as he slid further, spread her with every inch. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she drew him flush against her.

“Amazing.” Luke flexed his hips, pulling back then propelling forward again.

Sweat droplets pooled at her hairline as she moved with him. With each thrust, she concentrated to keep up with his rhythm as he moved faster and harder. Small ripples unfolded from her core and her back arched upward. “I’m going to come.”

“Yes, love.”

Gasps left her as she moaned. Waves of pleasure shook her even as her muscles tightened and released. Luke climaxed afterward, his groan low and guttural as he drove deep within her.

Their breathing calmed and yet she couldn’t pull away. But he didn’t either and for now, everything was right.

23

A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal.

—Oscar Wilde