Darkness In The Flames (54 page)

Her fangs were emerging, slipping smoothly down over her lips, gleaming softly as she mewled and writhed beneath him, thrusting her mound into him, rubbing herself against him, desperate for his possession. He was getting pretty desperate himself.

Slipping back down between her thighs, he let the wheel touch her pussy, gently running it around, up and down, then back across where he knew her clit would be lurking beneath its soft hood.

“Niiiiiick…” Her moans were getting stronger now, her body wet and eagerly waiting for his cock. Her scent bloomed in his nostrils, that particular tang of Verity and sex.

The clock had moved—it was now nearly midnight. Which was a damn good thing too, thought Nick. He couldn’t hold his own release much longer. Playing with Verity was all well and good, but a bit one sided. He needed her, needed her sex around his length, needed to thrust deep and sate himself inside her.

And he wanted to feed so badly his fangs ached with it.

Finally, he laid the spur aside. It had served its purpose. For both of them.

Now it was time—time to let go at last.

This was the moment Nick loved most about fucking Verity. Those seconds when his cock found her moisture and penetrated the darkness within. Those idyllic moments when he was embraced by her pussy lips and sucked into her welcoming silk, his passage welcomed with the tears of her desire.

He watched them join, his swollen cock disappearing into the soft folds of flesh, sinking deeper—deeper into his woman. Her inner fist clamped down on him, pulling him even further into her as her legs fought the restraints, unable to part any further yet desperate to envelop him, to devour his length as fully as she could.

He withdrew then thrust again, this time more powerfully, beginning a savage pounding that heightened the tension between them. Nick felt her muscles begin to shudder even as his own spine betrayed the first tingles of orgasm.

The clock began to strike—the chimes of the midnight hour.

Hammering into Verity, Nick wanted to howl—to roar out his passion for this woman, to fill her to overflowing, to claim her before God and the universe. His fangs lengthened even further and he reached past her to rip the restraints from her wrists and the blindfold from her face. He had to see her eyes as they dilated into her climax, watch his reflection as he took her with him into madness.

And he wanted her close, so close, as they fed.

“Now, Nick—dear God—
now
—”

Now
it was.

She thrust up as Nick thrust deep, a meeting of two bodies in a collision older than time itself. As if obeying the steps of a preordained dance, they reached for each other, fangs finding flesh, jaws widening and finally—blood flowing free.

Nick was overwhelmed as Verity’s life essence flooded over his tongue, a liquid that filled him, completed him and sent his balls into spasms of ecstasy. He came, spurting deep inside her, sucked into even greater explosions by the muscles of her sheath.

She was coming too, sobbing thickly around the flesh where she’d buried her fangs. They shook and shuddered in each other’s arms, lost in a world of their own creation, sharing, exchanging, offering and taking.

For the first time, Nick found he could
sense
Verity—he could sense her responses, experience the feel of her sheath as it throbbed and clenched at his cock. It was so strange, magnifying his own body’s sensations and giving him a peek into Verity’s whirling vortex of release.

How different. And yet how incredible.

Stunned, Nick let his orgasm wash over him, his balls emptying themselves into the welcome and love that was Verity. He’d forgotten the time, the world, Adrian and Katherine, even Thérèse.

And as he finally eased, slipping his fangs free of her neck, he knew they’d passed a milestone on this night. That the bond they’d created with each other would never be severed. Not by evil or by whatever kind of death they might eventually be granted.

Verity was his mate. For eternity.

Carefully he removed the pegs from her nipples and kissed the swollen peaks. Beneath his gaze they softened, pink and rosy from his punishment.

Dark eyes watched him. “You are amazing.” Her voice was hoarse, as if she’d screamed aloud for hours.

Nick found he had to clear his own throat before answering. “Only with you, my love. Only with you.”

He clambered over Verity and settled himself next to her, enjoying her closeness, the scent of their loving and the way she nestled into him. Once again he was struck by how well their bodies fit—curves complementing dips and vice versa. Her height was no disadvantage to him but an asset.

He tugged her close and kissed her. “Are you all right?”

“Mmm. Sticky, but definitely
mmm
.” She purred against his neck. “You?”

“I think mmm is appropriate, yes.”

They lay together for a little time, words unnecessary between them. The joy of being lovers, of reaching such pleasure together, made any other conversation irrelevant. Both knew what the other was feeling—sated, fulfilled and
loved
.

“We must try this again soon.” Verity giggled. “That was rather fun, you know. The thing with the clothes pegs and whatever else you used.”

“I swiped a spur from my riding boot.” He chuckled back. “But remind me to replace the clothes pegs before the servants miss them. That would be hard to explain.”

“A spur, huh?” Verity sounded thoughtful. “I wonder what
I
could do with a spur.”

“You, my sweet, are entirely too inventive for your own good. Or for mine when it comes down to it. I’m not sure I’ll be allowing you near my riding boots anytime soon.”

“As if you could stop me.” She laughed again. “I shall have to give it some thought.”

In the few moments of silence that followed, the smile fell away from Nick’s face. His scattered wits had reassembled themselves and the remembrance of this night’s deeper purpose made itself known once more.

Verity was already sharing his thoughts. “Nick, did you see her? Did you see Thérèse? Was she here?”

“Did you?”

Verity shook her head. “No. Nothing. No sense that we were being watched, nothing at all. Other than you, of course.” She laid a hand lovingly on his waist as she turned into his arms.

Nick sighed. “I didn’t see her either. I don’t believe she was here.”

Verity stroked him idly. “Well, perhaps Adrian and Katherine have had better luck. He has been a vampire longer than you. Perhaps their loving sends out stronger vibrations or something.” She leaned her head back and looked at him. “Although God knows how anything could be stronger than what we share.”

Nick had no answers. Those—if there were any to be had out of this night’s pleasures—would come later on. For now, all he could do was kiss the woman he loved.

Which he did, with great enthusiasm.

*~*~*~*

They gathered in Sir Sidney’s library, lovers dressed casually after their evening’s passion was spent. They weren’t as easy with each other as they’d liked to be, at least to Verity’s way of thinking.

But then again, they were all private people, preferring to keep their lusts to themselves and their mates. Some things were just not easily shared—this was one of them.

Sidney was sighing and shaking his head. “She didn’t come.”

“No, but I did. Twice.”

Verity nearly fell off her chair as a spurt of laughter rocked her. Katherine’s response was as calm as it was unexpected.

Adrian blushed, then grinned, a hugely male grin of accomplishment.

“
Katherine
. That will do, my dear, you’re embarrassing your husband.” Sidney reproved her, trying to hide his own laughter in a polite cough. “He glanced at Nick. “And you kept to the timetable?”

Nick nodded. “As near as possible, yes.”

Verity raised her eyebrows. “You had a
timetable
?”

It was Nick’s turn to grin. “Sort of. Adrian and I both decided that if possible we’d…er…shoot for midnight. Trying to see if a cumulative effect might work…” His voice tailed off as both Verity and Katherine looked crestfallen.

“And I thought it was all about
us
.”

Katherine’s complaint echoed Verity’s thoughts. “Me too.”

“It
was
, sweetheart. Do you honestly think I’d have stolen those clothes pegs if it had been otherwise?” Nick spread his hands in a gesture of sincerity.

“
Clothes pegs
? Hmmm…” Katherine thought about that.

Once more Sir Sidney cleared his throat. “Yes, well, never mind that. You may continue such discussions when I’m not present.
Please
.” He turned away, shoulders shaking a little with laughter.

Adrian adroitly stepped into the conversational breach. “The end result, no matter how delightful for
all
of us…” He flashed a hot dark look at his wife. “The end result was that Thérèse did
not
appear. To any of us. At any time.” He turned to Sidney. “What do you think, Father? What does it mean?”

Sidney stared out of the window at the sea, lost in thought. Then he answered. “I wish I knew. There are many possibilities. But I suppose we can pretty firmly deduce that she has either lost interest in you for the time being, which I doubt, or that our recent attack diminished her powers. I’d prefer to believe the latter.”

Nick’s eyes turned to the sword over the fireplace. “There is one other possibility.”

Sidney looked at him. “There is?”

“Yes.” He moved to the mantel and touched the sword briefly. “She’s scared of this. The sword, this place—there’s something here that she cannot fight. And
we
magnify its effect against her.”

Silence fell as they all considered this idea.

“It could be true, you know.” Adrian sounded pensive.

“It does fit all the facts we have at hand, skimpy though they are.” Katherine nodded.

Verity stood up from her chair and went to Nick, reaching for his hand. “I’d love to believe it, Nick. It may be true indeed. But she’s not gone forever, is she?”

Nick shook his head. “No. She’s not gone forever.”

Verity sighed and leaned against him. “Then I suppose we have forever to defeat her, don’t we?”

Epilogue

It was nearly dawn. The first fingers of light would emerge within moments from the horizon, spreading the warmth of a new day and sending Adrian and Nick inside to their rest.

Sidney stood with them, breathing in the soft night air and the tang of the sea. On either side of him they stood, strong and tall, yet weighed down by such darkness that Sidney sometimes wanted to weep for them.

His son,
Adrian
. A man so rich in love and kindness, yet lacking the essential elements that made him mortal. He could not have asked for a better son, a better friend or a stronger right arm. That night on the beach had changed both their lives for the better, Sidney knew.

And now
Nick
. Equally strong, a man whose mind matched Sidney’s in its constant desire to learn, to explore and to ask unanswerable questions of life itself. Also a man bowed by the weight of shadows, cursed by an evil it seemed none of them could touch.

Both men shared these shadows, but they also shared something else—the passion that only a perfect mate could bring. The love between Adrian and Katherine was deep, plumbing depths Sidney couldn’t begin to fathom.

But he did believe that Nick and Verity also loved as intensely. It seemed that when one of their kind found the right soul, when their desires melded into a love that burned hotter than the sun—well, then all things were possible.

Adrian gave his father a quick hug. “We must go in. Katherine will be abed by now, and probably Verity too.”

“Indeed we must. Sleep well, Sir Sidney.” Nick rested his palm on Sidney’s shoulder for a moment in an affectionate gesture.

“Goodnight Father.” Adrian hugged him. “Are you coming?”

“I’ll wait for a bit, I think. But I will be along shortly. Just leave the door unlatched, will you?”

They strode back to St. Chesswell’s, a matched pair—of what? Vampires?

Sidney hated that word. They were not vicious, blood-sucking phantasms from stories made up to scare children or cheap publications designed to thrill the masses.

They were, in Sidney’s eyes,
immortals
. Men who had been changed enough to warrant the description
Mortuus Victus
—the dead who live.

He would continue his researches, he mused. Start Nick and Verity on some of the herbal concoctions that had worked so well with Adrian and then Katherine. Certainly there was still the sunlight issue to deal with, but now his son could ingest small amounts of food and drink. He needed blood only rarely these days. And what he needed he took from his wife.

Yes, he would continue to attempt a cure for all of them. There was much to learn, much to discover.

An idea struck him. He was a scientist. Many viewed him as a rambling and rather dusty old man possessed of outrageous notions, but he was still, fundamentally, a scientist.

If he traveled to London, visited some equally dusty old colleagues, offered to present a paper—it could work.

The sun rose unnoticed as Sir Sidney Chesswell stood on his cliffs, staring into the eternal mystery of life and death, formulating plans. He would speak to a select gathering of his peers about his experiments, managing to convey a message to others who might not attend. A message to those who suffered from the curse of an evil hand, one belonging to a vicious red-haired demon.

They should come to
him
—to St. Chesswell’s. The more he could gather to his side, the greater the power they would have. He must be cautious, of course…

His thoughts turned to his subject material, busily composing the introduction to his lecture. Then a bird soared high on the dawn air with a joyous scream, breaking his concentration.