Eternal Embrace (4 page)

He cracked a laugh. She had such spunk. He’d not known that about her. She’d been so sweet and warm, so easy to talk to, so damn irresistible to him, but he’d not known she had such spirit. Until he’d dragged her out of the club. Then she’d tossed him with her fiery temper. He’d wanted to bend her over the cab and possess her for every male to see who she belonged to.

“Joey, this is serious, remember? You can kick my ass later, hell, I deserve it, but right now, darlin’, you gotta let me put you under.”

She examined his face as if she’d never seen him before. “If you’re a vampire, show me your fangs,” she murmured.

“Stubborn little brat. How did you hide how obstinate you were?”

She wrinkled her nose adorably. “I’ve never hidden anything from you, you’re the one that—” She broke off with a gasp in pain.

“Let me make it go away, I can make it better, I swear. I can ease you.” He could too. He needed to, needed to take away her pain. Instincts raged at him, demanding he protect her.

He’d have to show her he was a vampire. There was no other choice he could think of to force her to believe him. He settled next to her on the bed and brought his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his warm body. Satisfied she was where he wanted her, he reached down and gently as possible he pulled her hand down to where the other vampires had marked her. “Feel these?” he asked.

She frowned and lifted enough to look down at her thigh. “What…”

“This is where they drank from you. They also bit you on your breast. I found you unconscious, with both vampires feeding off you.”

“Oh, God.” She bit her bottom lip and shook her head in denial.

He’d expected this. Joey was many things, but first and foremost she was down to Earth and practical. He bet his last dollar she’d not believe him and worse, she’d fight him on drinking blood. Some humans, if they survived the change, would die within days after because they fought the instinctual need for blood. Blood would keep her alive, so whether or not she wanted it, she was drinking it. Hopefully from him, but at first he’d go slow with her. But now, he needed to prove that this shit was serious.

“Let me show you,” he murmured. He rose on an elbow and slowly let his fangs drop. He knew by the look of shock on her face that his eyes had gone black as well—they did whenever emotions raged too great—and now he was on fire with worry over her. She tried to scoot away from him, but he held her carefully but firmly around her tiny waist.

“No. I’ll never harm you. I’m over six hundred years old, Joey. I’ve never killed with my bite, but I am a vampire—not what your kind think of as a vampire, though. For one, I’m more deadly. But right now, you need to let me put you to sleep, because seeing you in pain is making me insane, and darlin’, you don’t want me insane.” He pressed her tighter to his body, letting his sheer size and power soak into her stubborn will to resist him. If she was his, his dominance should do some good here—ease her fear and allow her to trust him. If he hadn’t made love to her and left her, he reminded himself.

“I’m going to die? Then come back as some kind of ghastly vampire sick with the insane need for blood?”

He cracked a laugh, barely holding in more when she looked outraged at his humour. “Baby, you watch way too many movies.”

“Jaxon, please, tell me. Will I be a monster?”

The soft question killed him in ways he couldn’t deal with right now. “No! No, you’re not going to die. I won’t allow that,” he assured her. “And you’ll never be a monster. You won’t go crazy if someone gets a cut near you and bite them. But right now—”

“But I’ll be a vampire? I’ll have to drink blood?”

He hesitated, but when he did another wave of pain rocked her making her tremble in his arms. “Yes, but we can talk about that—it will be natural. You’ll want it just like you used to want your double shot in your mocha latte.”

He’d thought his joke might calm her, but instead she groaned as if he’d killed her.

“Oh God, oh God, I can’t believe you just said that! How can drinking someone’s blood be natural? Let me go, let me go. Maybe I can get to the hospital. Maybe there is a cure!”

She was so distraught he buried his head in her shoulder and held her until her struggles weakened as her pain grew. He hated that she’d gone a bit hysterical on him. She’d always been so sweet with him, always so rational, and now he was throwing more at her than any one person should have to deal with.

Without really thinking, he covered her mouth with his, taking her breath, and used the touch of their lips to blank her mind, sending her into something like sleep only deeper. She fought him, to a degree that worried him, but finally, when another rush of pain hit her, her instinctual barrier lowered and he pushed harder.

Instantly she softened, almost as if she’d passed out on him again. She had really, but this time her temperature rose, making him hot from holding her. How long would this go on, he worried, brushing kisses over her flushed face.

A memory of Elizabeth’s screams hit him. She’d tricked him into saving her life the only way he knew how—by draining what was left of her blood and giving her his. Unlike Joey, at the first hint of pain, she’d begged him to knock her out.

She’d also left him the next evening to go to her dark lord.

When she’d murdered an entire village to show her loyalty to the dark vows, he’d taken responsibility for her evil, and done the only thing he could do—ended her life.

He’d shut himself off from everyone, he realised. He’d been existing, sure, but he’d been half-dead inside and willing to remain that way forever. How had he not seen that before? That one twisted woman had affected him so deeply it took another woman, the complete opposite of the first, to open his eyes. His life blurred, condensing down to the silent, light weight of Joey next to his heart.

All those centuries he’d waited—for this, what he held in his arms.

A loud ticking sound woke Joey from the best sleep she’d ever had in her life. She grumpily rolled over and smoothed her hands over the softness of the sheets. Had anything ever felt so sweet? Breathing in, she tried to make sense of why the bed smelt so wonderful, then realised Jaxon’s scent was all over it. She also abruptly remembered where she was and why.

“Holy shit!” She jerked upright and stared around Jaxon’s empty home. Next to her, the sensation of his warmth remained against the softness of the rich, brown silk of his sheets. She swallowed and licked her lips. No memory surfaced other than his crazy talk about being a vampire.

Was it all a dream?
Am I still dreaming?
She crawled over to the side table and looked at the clock. Two a.m.
Holy hell. On what day? Night?

Suddenly her talk with Jaxon rushed back into focus. She remembered him saying he was a vampire. There’d been pain and even talk of how he’d take care of her. Had it all been some kind of crazy dream?

She knelt and scanned the room.
S
he rubbed her face and tried to wake her brain up. Still naked, she headed to the bathroom, but stopped when she caught her reflection in the mirror.

Ha. So a vampire, huh?
That was some kind of crazy dream you had, lady!

Suddenly feeling a great deal better, except for the need for a shower, she examined her face, intrigued by how the lights of Jax’s home made her eyes sparkle. She grinned and laughed, stopping when she noticed something else about herself.

It was night time and no lights were on. But she could see clearly.

His home sucked because she loved it. The ancient place must be some deserted abbey, monastery or some other ancient structure that he’d purchased and fixed up. The stonework was amazing, the tiled floors to die for and the books simply wonderful. They lined almost every wall. She doubted he’d read any of them.

Gardens, overgrown and kinda spooky, filled the land around his gated home, adding a bit of mystery to the place. The metal front gates were enormous, each side framed by a wild-looking gargoyle sitting atop a fantastically carved pillar. She’d spent ten minutes waiting for her cab out there, examining each little detail.

Now she could see every bit of his large room, and the lights were out.

Worse, she froze in front of the full-length mirror and realised she had fangs.

They were unmistakable, not like what she remembered Jax showing her, but she knew her own face and her canines had never looked so cute. Walking closer to the mirror, she touched her lips then her teeth.

“Holy shit.” She had fangs.

“They’ll grow on you.”

She whirled around, overstepped and nearly fell against the mirror. Jax had the audacity to grin. He quickly ducked his head and stepped towards her.

“Don’t! Don’t you move a muscle, mister!”

He stopped, but the grin moved to his eyes. The jerk was—abruptly she realised she was still naked and Jax was enjoying the view.

“Turn around!”
Is that my voice?
She sounded like she’d screeched.

“Darlin’, I’ve seen every inch of you,” he taunted. “Easy, easy, you’re hyperventilating.”

“No shit! I’m a freaking vampire!” She grabbed one of his shirts off the back of a chair and tugged it on quickly. It fell to her knees. “Oh, man, this sucks.”

“The shirt looks good.”

She planted both fists on her hips. “Not the shirt!”

He grinned again, but held his palms out and said, “Shh, I know, I know, but damn, woman, give a man a second here, you just shot all my brain cells below the belt.”

“Like you have any,” she muttered, for some odd reason flattered. She squeezed her eyes shut and refused to breathe in, because when she did, his spicy aftershave and just his Jaxon smell teased her senses.
Smart move, dummy—you’re wearing his shirt!

“Now, now, let’s not fight, okay? I’m sure you have a ton of questions.”

Does he sound eager?
She slit her eyes open and saw he had moved to sit on one of the chairs by a big table piled high with all kinds of things. He lifted his legs to the tabletop and crossed them at the ankles, looking as relaxed as a man could. She considered smacking him.

“I have only one. Where are my clothes?”

He blinked, but raised one arrogant eyebrow. He’d shaved but left enough stubble on his chin to etch out a sexy goatee.

“On the chair, by the bathroom.”

Mmm, okay, so that sounded oddly normal. She peeked and sure enough, her clothes were folded right where she suddenly remembered they’d been prior to turning into a blood sucker. “I want to go home.”

He immediately shook his head no. Picking up a letter opener—at least she hoped the long, slim blade was a letter opener—he fiddled with the thing for a long while, watching her with blue eyes that suddenly looked like they were holding a heck of a lot back. “It’s too soon. You’re still weak.”

“I’m not weak.” She stood taller, daring him to say something like that again.

“Well, you need a shower, at least.”

Did she smell?
She couldn’t remember her last shower. Before the club, of course, but way before she’d thrown up.

“You were out for days, then after the transformation you slept for two full nights and a day. It’s been, oh”—he tilted his head as if he had to think about that—“a week and some change since you bathed.”

Holy hell! A week?

She got the idea he was teasing her, so she took a deep breath, not smelling any nasty body odour—except his delicious aroma—and examined his too-casual body language. “Did you bathe me?”

He frowned and jerked his head back as if she’d asked the silliest thing in the world.

“You did! What is
wrong
with you? It wasn’t enough to—” She broke off when his boots hit the solid stone floor.

“I didn’t bathe you. I watched you, held you and cleaned you when you vomited again, but I didn’t dunk you in the bath. Right now that idea is sounding good though, so I suggest you head in there before I do
bathe you
.”

She swallowed the lump of lust that settled in her throat at his brow-down look, and reminded her crazy body he was a lying, leaving tool. “I’m so not scared. And by the way, this shirt smells, not me, but I do want a shower. Alone. And uninterrupted.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“When the hell did you get so mean, wildcat? Shit, I just saved your life—”

“After fucking and leaving me! And who asked you to save me anyway? I’m a vampire for crying out loud!” She covered her mouth and sucked in a surprised gasp. She ran her tongue over her teeth and stumbled backwards. Her fangs were sharp, so sharp she’d sliced her tongue.

“Easy, easy, baby, you’re just angry. I’m fucking sorry, okay? I didn’t want this for you, but hell if I’d let you die because of a stupid mistake.” He caught her upper arms and shook her a tiny bit. “Just settle down—”

“What mistake? You sneaking out of your own bed?”

“You going to that fucking club!” he roared then seemed to realise he’d shouted at her, dropped his arms and pushed both hands through his hair and yanked the silky strands.

Oh, man, that was not sexy. Not sexy
. Slowly her fangs receded and when he finally looked at her, his head still down and fuming by the look in his blue eyes, she managed a shrug.

“Sorry, I went to—”

“I know why you went,” he grumbled, and took his seat, turning his back on her. “Go shower. Then we’ll talk.”

Why was it when he wanted to talk, she suddenly didn’t want to? Weren’t women the ones who wanted to talk? Discuss things? By the look of his tense shoulders, he wanted more than to talk to her. He was upset, maybe even still pissed off at her. He
had
saved her.

She glanced over at the bed, seeing the hospital equipment used for IVs sitting off to the side. Had he really tried to replace her lost blood with bagged blood? If so, then he was telling the truth that he didn’t want her to be a vampire.
Which means, Joey, he tried to stop it.
And she’d just yelled at him, and thrown what he’d done in his face. She didn’t remember everything from when she’d woken before, but she remembered he’d said he was sorry. She could accept that and move on, or keep grinding that axe every chance she could. Grudges weren’t her style. But neither was putting herself out there, and she had with him. He’d hurt her, true, but she also hadn’t given him the opportunity to explain. Would he?