Department 57: Rubies of Fire (5 page)

She swallowed back her instinctive retort. It was the same for her too. “I don’t know.”

“Roz, my knowledge of vampire lore is extremely limited. The people who brought me up did their best, but it’s not like I belonged to them. You’re a Gardiner, one of the strongest families. What is this feeling?”

His warmth and something hard pushed into her buttocks. His erection. Roz squeezed her thighs together. “I think it’s called lust. It’s pretty universal. Not vampire specific at all.”

“I’m doing my best here.” He sounded ragged, his voice shaking. “I’m not what you think I am, but I do like women, share time with them. More than one, Roz, less than a hundred.”

“All at the same time?” She kept her voice low so it didn’t shake as his had done.

He chuckled, a slight rumble that did nothing but ratchet her libido another notch. “No. One at a time is my usual limit, though I have been known to vary it from time to time. But I’ve never felt like this.”

“Like what?”

His grip tightened. “Like if I don’t find my way inside you soon, I’ll die.”

“No, you won’t.”

A soft groan this time. It did nothing to lower her temperature. She wanted him, but she still remembered the office wolf, the man who hit on anything with boobs. “I’ll back off, I promise. Just as soon as I can, but oh, fuck, this is hard.”

Instead, his hands slid up from her waist to cup her breasts. She lifted her hands to push them away and found herself cradling his hands in hers, encouraging him to press, to soothe the ache deep inside her. Only
his
hands, only
his
touch. She leaned back into him, feeling the insistent pressure of his erection, welcoming it. “We seem to have no choice.”

When she dragged her arms away from his grip, it was only to turn around and tug his head down to hers. They devoured each other, and snagged her top and pulling it off. She didn’t care. As long as he fucked her soon, she didn’t care about anything else.

He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and she sucked it, hearing his growl, feeling the vibrations pulse low in his throat. Swinging around, he took her down, and neither cared if they hit the bed or the floor as long as they got horizontal fast. Easier that way, since she was a full six inches shorter than him.

They managed the bed, more by luck than design, and while he stripped her with jerky, feverish movements of his hands, she stripped him, pulling off the fine wool jacket, the silk shirt, the soft wool pants. She would have dragged his silk boxer shorts off too, but he winced at her rough handling.

“Sorry,” she gasped, taking her lips away from his for a mere second or two, long enough to babble her apology.

“Don’t.” He took his hands off her, and she felt bereft until he eased his underwear over his sensitive cock and kicked the boxers free. Mouth slightly open, panting as though he couldn’t get enough air, he leaned over her, concentrating on the last of her clothes. She unclipped her bra, longing to feel his hands on her bare flesh, all the places she was most sensitive. Everywhere.

Not only his hands but his mouth, sucking at her skin, her neck, her throat, moving swiftly on to her breasts. The slight chill when he lifted his mouth and passed on to her nipple made her shudder, which in turn drove her fever for him higher, ever higher.

He made whimpering, needy sounds, and she realized the sounds she heard were her answers. No words, just small sounds of want.

Sharply, he lifted his head, and his eyes burned, glowing red around the rims. She knew what was about to happen, because she felt it too, the fever inciting
all
her appetites.

She pulled her lower lip in when her fangs shot into full growth, extending like flick-knives, triggered by a sudden impulse of need. This would be a complete coupling.

Neither wanted gentleness; neither needed it. Driven by the blood pounding in their veins, they opened up at the same time, mind and body readying.

No words, but feverish images, all intensely phallic: volcanoes, heat, fire. Nothing was as electrifying as the sight of him opening her pussy to prepare for his entry, sliding two fingers into her with exquisite care despite the trembling in every pore of his body.

The gentleness melted her, made her trust him enough to open her legs wide and push against his hand. She had never wanted this more, never wanted anyone as much as she wanted—
needed
—this man.

He touched a spot inside her, the one that drove her wild, but she was already wild. If she’d thought she had nowhere else to go, she was wrong. She cried out, and he growled and abruptly withdrew his hand, making her whimper in need, empty without him.

But not for long. He climbed over her and leaned on one arm, the other holding his cock while he positioned himself, and for an instant she felt him burning hotly against the heat she was generating. The slide against her wet pussy made her push her head back into the pillows and groan. He loomed over her, fangs gleaming in the soft light thrown by her bedside lamp, the one she left on all the time, his eyes black with need, beyond speech.

He slid inside her, and without conscious thought, she lifted her legs and hugged his sides with her knees, opening herself to him completely.

Although she knew what would happen next, it sent shivers of shock and passion through her when he bent and took the side of her neck. The first pain caused by the piercing dissipated quickly as his fangs made contact with her blood and her blood began to flow into him.

Instinct took over. His neck was bared to her, the base of his vulnerable throat pressed against her, inviting her invasion. She pierced and took as he was taking her.

Her blood into him, his into her, surging into each other, feeding the energy, the strength, that vampires craved, needed to survive. While they required human blood, both had found time to feed that night, and sustenance was strong in them both.

It fed their passion. His fangs still buried deep in her neck, Andreas began to move, lifting his hips to slam into her body, which made a wet sound of welcome with every plunge.

He groaned against her neck, breath hot on her skin. His lips sucked her in; his heavy body pressed her hard into the mattress, but she fought back, arching her body to take him in. She lifted her feet to curve around his back and press her heels just above his buttocks. He wasn’t getting away until she came at least once. Her body demanded it.

Her mind had little to do with any of this, but she felt his mind in hers, hers in his. Too late to draw back, she saw thoughts and emotions swirling through him, echoing and completing hers. He entered her thoughts, her very being.

This was too much, too intense, and Roz panicked.

He wouldn’t let her pull away, although she yanked her fangs out of his neck and screamed loud and long as passion built inside her to an intolerable level. Then it all detonated into another place, somewhere she’d never been before.

Vaguely she heard him shout and felt the gush of hot liquid, seeping between the tight fit of his body and hers. He withdrew his fangs, but not his cock, and kissed her neck softly, his tongue bathing the slight wounds he’d left. Hastily, she did the same to him.

The marks would be gone by the morning. She felt an unexpected pang of sadness. She wanted to bear his mark.

What was she thinking? He must have felt her shock, because she experienced his reaction, a tingle of awareness. She concentrated on retracting her fangs. When he lifted his head, she met his eyes, saw her satiation in him, and an edge of male arrogance all his own.

His shock seemed greater than hers. “I thought you wanted this. You don’t seem entirely happy.”

He bent to lap at her neck. Her wounds must still be seeping a little. His tongue caressed her softly, warmly healing. “I may be a vampire, but I wasn’t brought up in a vampire community. I didn’t have the teaching you had. Tell me something.” He lifted his head once more. “Is this normal for vampire sex? Does this mean we’ve bonded or something?”

A satisfied smile stretched her lips. “Just how many vampires have you slept with?”

His eyelids flickered down, then opened, and he was studying the marks on her neck. Not meeting her gaze. “You’re the third. The other two were enjoyable, but no more than sex with a mortal. We didn’t feed. I never wanted to do that before.”

“I knew something like it once before.” She couldn’t hide anything from him, although she might regain the ability later. If she wanted to.

When he looked up, she saw—and felt—unmistakable anger burning in his eyes. “What’s wrong? Staking your claim? I wouldn’t worry. The man is dead, long dead. Fifty years dead.”

“How old are you?”

“A gentleman wouldn’t ask.”

“I’m not a gentleman. I’m a vampire. But if you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay.”

She laughed, the vibration reminding her he was still embedded inside her. She stirred to relish the sensation. He was flaccid, but at her movement, she felt a response, a twitch, and he grew a little firmer. “I’m a hundred and fifty years old. I was married once, to a mortal, and I loved him dearly. He’s the one I felt that for, and it came after ten years with him, not on our first time together.”

He lifted his hand and touched her chin, stroking with a gentleness that had been entirely absent a few moments before. “I’m sorry. I’d like to hear about him sometime, if you want to tell me.”

She wanted to tell him, shocking herself with the thought. She’d never told anyone about her relationship with John because she’d never wanted to.

No; whatever she wanted to do, it wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. Bad etiquette or something like that. Instead, she smiled. “How does it feel to be a boy toy?”

He rolled off her on to his back and howled with laughter. She smiled, then joined in, the release delicious after the day and the fraught but thrilling sex. Somehow it brought them closer.

Still smiling, he turned his head and reached for her. She went before she thought about it, curling into his arms as if she’d done it many times before. “It feels fine,” he murmured softly. “Just fine.”

They held each other, hands at rest on sweat-slicked flesh. “So tell me,” he said. “Where do we go from here?”

Chapter Four

“Is something wrong? Would you like to sleep somewhere else?” Roz walked to Andreas across her bedroom floor, savoring the cool wood under her toes, but her mind was with him. Since he’d got back from his meeting, he’d been quiet, uncommunicative, his thoughts closed to her. Perhaps he didn’t want this closeness; maybe he needed to keep the operation separate from his feelings.

She wished she’d known earlier, before the madness, before the frantic lovemaking. Before she’d made herself vulnerable to him.

He blinked and shook his head. “No, it’s not you. Not us, I mean.”

She’d intruded where he wasn’t yet ready to accept her. “It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have asked.”

She would have turned away, but he put a gentle hand on her shoulder and drew her closer. When he looked down into her eyes, she saw sadness and an edge of bitterness. “It’s stupid, but Knox made sure I saw Cristos’s report on me today. After I’d hit on his assistant a bit too forcefully, he decided it was time for me to go. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. Cristos is more than my boss. He found me. He was my guardian. He looked after me when I was a kid with nobody.”

Well, that was something else. Cristos, the eternal enigma, and she happened on the one man who might know more than most. “So why did he send you on this assignment?”

He smiled, but it didn’t dispel the sadness in his eyes. “Because it was more believable that way. I didn’t live up to his expectations as an agent, so he had me transferred instead of firing my ass. We played out a farce today, for anyone who cared to watch. I asked him to take me back. He refused. I stormed out.”

“What really happened?”

He glanced away, then back at her, raising his hand to touch her hair as though it gave him comfort. She leaned into his touch. “I told him about you. He told me he’s sending someone in, a shape-shifter who’s also a techie. She should be able to ransack the computer system to complete the operation, and then we can get out of there.”

She lifted her hand and slid it around his waist but didn’t draw any closer to him. Touching was enough for now. “So why so sad?”

His smile grew warmer. “I told you it was stupid. It felt real. That’s all.” He took a deep breath. “Cristos found me wild on the streets, caught me when I tried to take blood off him, knocked aside the mental spell I’d put on him as though it didn’t exist. I had no personal memories. He took me into his home. Cristos stopped me from becoming a brute. They studied me, thought I was about fourteen, just matured as a vampire. That could be why whoever it was abandoned me on the streets of New York.”

She swallowed. How had he survived? Ever since Talents had decided to keep hidden, a thousand years ago and more, vampires had depended on family support, so most found going without it unthinkable. Literally unthinkable. It said a lot for Andreas’s courage, his determination, that he’d come through this as well as he had. Not only survived but made a career for himself.

“Cristos showed me how you can serve your country and retain your integrity. It starts inside.” He pressed her hand against his heart.

Sorrow mixed with wonder filled her heart that he should let her in so far. “You trust me?”

When he turned his head and looked at her, his eyes glistened brightly. “I trust you. I know you. Better than you know me after my charade as the office wolf. I do like women, but I don’t stay with them for long. Usually. But I treat them better than my cover story would tell you. I’m honest.”

“Will you be honest with me?” She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his. He could see all her vulnerability, her fear of commitment, her desire to be on her own. If he couldn’t see it in her eyes, he could feel it in her mind. Once linked the way they had connected last night, the barriers were almost impossible to re-erect.

“Yes, I promise. Last night I wanted you beyond reason, beyond thought. It shouldn’t have happened. You know that?”