Exist (Vampire Assassin League Book 30) (3 page)

“I will not ask again.”

His voice lowered into a deeper range. The last words were growled. Leah had never come up against such a blatant chauvinist. Nor, someone as manly. Anso was an alpha male to an infinite degree. She had patients with these traits, but nothing near as ingrained or apparent. And if anything was normal about this, she wouldn’t be swaying on her tiptoes in these heels, experiencing flickers of heat lick their way through her belly, upper thighs, and breasts at his words. Tone. Meaning.

And worse. When she answered, her voice seemed to contain all of the sensations afflicting her in audible form. She’d never sounded quite so...excited. Aroused. Sexual.

“I...think you have the wrong—!”

Her words choked off as he lunged. His arms swooped about her, carrying her with him into the fog.

And Leah hadn’t even cried out.

His mate radiated life. Warmth. Succor. Her presence was a beacon in a heretofore dark world; a haven of shelter in the midst of winter storms; a wealth of heat in a span of ice. An aura of light seemed to surround her. He’d seen it the moment he’d gone airborne. He’d been worried over finding her? That had been naïve and foolish.

If pleasure filled him at being near and basking in her warmth, there was no descriptor for how it felt to clasp her to him. Experience her every breath as they feathered across his chest. Listen to her beating heart as it pulled his into synchronicity with it. Inhale her perfect blend of vanilla and mint. Feel the slide of hair strands along his shoulders. Chin. Against his cheeks...

Anso tightened his arms about her, twirled until the night spun, and then launched forward again. He had to get her to his castle. Hidden. Secure. Private.

Those words matched his castle. It had been built for defense. He didn’t know when it had been started, or against what foes. There had been too many over the centuries. But, at some point, the edifice had been abandoned and left to decay. Ownership had come at a pittance. Rebuilding and adding had emptied his coffers at the time. Because he’d wanted perfection: the best craftsmen, finest materials, unparalleled luxury and beauty.

He’d believed he was erasing his origins, overwriting the barbaric portion of his personality with something better. More refined. Much more civilized. He knew the real reason now.

He’d created the castle for her.

The thought brought a burst of something approaching worry. His belly dropped. He lost a corresponding amount of elevation. He’d been extremely short-sighted, but he hadn’t known the stories of mating were true. Or that she would just appear one night. There hadn’t been one warning. Not even a hint! If there had, he would have prepared his home. Seen to altering décor that was centuries old. His unused kitchens were archaic; the bedroom suites even older.

And he was taking his mate there?

Anso gripped her tighter. His breath hitched as she gave a soft sigh. Air brushed his throat. The sensation sent all kinds of stimuli he tried to ignore. His canines joined the fray, tingling as they started sharpening. He forced them back. Ordered his mind to concentrate on the castle...and her impression of it. Perhaps he was over-thinking this. His mate could always redecorate and update things.

Women liked that.

Didn’t they?

Oh. How did he know? He hadn’t been with a woman in centuries. And, just like that, he lost his thought process again. His fangs reacted. His body spun. It wasn’t possible to stay immune to this. Mating had too much power. The feelings created within him were already vast. And they were ever multiplying. His veins throbbed with renewed energy. Power. Life-force. Pumped through him with every heartbeat. Each breath added to the plethora of commotion within him. Every moment sent another burst of renewed sensation. His thighs felt the fire next. His buttocks.

And then his groin.

Anso sucked in a breath with the shock and marvel. He was stirring! His rod elongating. Growing hard and thick against the obstruction of leather trousers. And he felt every bit of it!

Oh!

He needed to get her to his castle.

Rip off clothing.

Find a bed.

Forget a bed
. He had tables. Sofas. Carpet-strewn floors...

Anso’s concentration vanished. He lost all bearing on what he was doing. They lost elevation with a belly-afflicting drop. His canines erupted to their full length and piercing sharpness. But then an obstruction loomed out through the night, became a rooftop. Anso glanced off a chimney, caught the fall with bent legs, and halted there for a bit to get his bearings. Regain focus. Assemble his thoughts. And work at control. The entire time, the leather pants pinched his erection. Almost paining.

And he’d felt that, too!

Anso shoved his head back and sent a cry of absolute joy into the night about them. He couldn’t halt it. This was too incredible! Unbelievably astonishing! And beyond wondrous.

He leapt back into the sky. Leah didn’t react. There was no question as to why. He knew. She was under his thrall. He hadn’t wanted to use his powers, but she’d left him little choice. What he’d been experiencing was beyond comprehension or containment. Now that he had her in his arms, the sensations went beyond that. They approached a level he could barely conceive. Or control.

And she wanted him to leave her?

Wait an entire day?

Never.

The tops of trees came into view. A rock face loomed from the mist-filled dark next. Anso flew upward along it. His heart racing. His pulse joining in.

And...finally!

He overshot the tower, skidded to a stop against the cliff face. A spin put his shoulder in position to take the brunt of landing. A scrape opened on his skin. He barely felt it. Everything was too attuned to one thing. The woman in his arms. His mate. His clumsiness had jostled her slightly. Anso pulled her close. Held her tight. She was the perfect heft in his arms. Solid. Womanly. He took a deep breath of her particular vanilla-imbued scent. He rocked in place. And silently cursed his clumsiness.

He might have hurt her.

And that would be unforgiveable.

Her head shifted. Fragrant hair brushed his chin. That small event sent a surge of lightning through him. Anso tightened his belly. Thighs. Arms. All, in an effort to control the scope of reaction. Curb unbelievable force. Tamp down desire and urge. Massive need. Everything on him was alerted. Primed. And desperate.

There wasn’t any light source on the balcony. He could still see. Much too easily. She was so beautiful! Her eyes were large, light-colored, surrounded by soot-shaded eyelashes. Her incredibly plump, red-toned lips were pursed, as if begging a kiss. Her breath came in heaves, each one lifting and displaying a bosom that demanded attention. Anso glanced down. Jerked his gaze back up. Stifled any response with clenched teeth that sliced into his lower lip. He locked his muscles tighter next, sending tremors through them.

Despite his efforts, the groan slipped past his lips. He lowered his chin. Sought her gaze and locked to it. Concentrated. Sent mesmeric power in waves that were nearly visible. She regarded him for several long moments. Their hearts thumped in tandem. Each breath matched. And his shaking intensified until his boot heels clicked audibly against stone.

“Well. This is...unexpected.”

Unexpected?

That was her word for this? He was dealing with a morass of emotion that threatened to unman him, and she was immune? What had happened to his enthralling powers? And then he knew. They needed light. He couldn’t connect with her unless they locked gazes. And for that, she’d need to see him.

“We need light,” she remarked, reading his mind.

“Yes.”

Anso raced beneath a carved black stone arch that looked natural, reached a courtyard open to the elements. Crossed it. A moment later, they were at one of the heavy wooden doors that accessed his home. He was shaking as he entered a hall. Selected a chamber.

Ah.

He was in luck.

He’d reached the silver rooms.

These had just been cleaned. Aired. He had eight bedroom suites. Never used. Kept ready. Available. Maintained if, and when, he remembered. The silver suite was perfect. This
must
be fate. Not only was it dust-free and immaculate, but these rooms were the most richly appointed. Black rock walls had been covered over with wall hangings of silk, interspersed with real silver threads. The rock floors were strewn with rugs of white and silver hue. The furniture was white ash, heavily embossed with more silver, while the linens were the finest silk. Ermine lined another treasure – the coverlet of the finest woven damask, also heavily embroidered with silver.

Anso smacked through the door, and flew through the receiving salon and into the bed chamber before he heard the sound of the door thudding shut. His movement turned on the motion-activated lighting. Candles started flickering from multiple candelabra, as if they were real and not the latest technology. The glow tempered the effect of so much silver, but the rooms still sparkled. Leah gasped. He felt, more than heard it as she lifted her head from him and viewed the enclosure.

He experienced what had to be a flash of pride. It added to the mix of emotions he was already suffering. Honed them. And why? Because his home wasn’t antiquated. There was a river below the edifice with enough water flow to supply electricity. Indoor plumbing. A natural gas vent gave him everything else a human might require. It was all another mark that he’d foregone his barbarian roots.

“This is—.” Her voice stopped. She shook her head.

“Yes?” Anso prompted.

“Not what I had in mind.”

Her words had the effect of a splash of cold water. It chilled, sent a sizzling sound through his ears, but then it quickly dissipated. Anso straightened slightly. The move lifted her. He tried to keep a defensive tone from his reply. It probably failed. The words were also slurred around his fangs. Almost unintelligible.

“It’s...not?”

“I was thinking more on the line of illuminating things so I could figure them out. I was not planning on going even deeper into psychosis.”

“This is my silver chamber,” he informed her.

“I’ll buy that...but that. Right there. Is a bed.”

“Yes.”

Her essence drew him. He tightened his arms more. Lifted her easily. Lowered his nose to her ear. Found the perfect spot below it.

...the line of her throat.

“Anso.”

She said his name with a voice that trembled. Anso inhaled. Held the breath for long moments. And then exhaled. It was stupid, akin to fanning a fire. Taking any banked spark and flashing it to life. But it was impossible to stop the mating force. He’d given up trying. She didn’t understand. She was too necessary. Her essence too vital. Joining with her compulsory. Beyond containment.

...and her blood!

”You need...to put me down.”

Her voice was a bare tremor of sound that ended in a low moan. Anso opened his mouth and licked a trail into existence along her throat, held his tongue at the lifted section of a vein as it throbbed with her pulse beat. And then he answered.

“No.”

The word was whispered against her neck. He watched her skin lift with shivers. His canines responded instantly. With raging need. He licked his lips. Shuddered in place. Fought to control the uncontrollable. He wanted her desperately, but he wanted her just as willing. Hungry. Afire with the same inferno of desire he faced.

“If I wish...a man into existence...the least he can do...is obey.”

Wish?

Obey?

Had she really linked those two words? Caught her breath several times through the sentence? And moaned the last word? And she expected him to make sense?

Anso grunted. He was losing his last restraint. The force he held back kept mounting. It was just as he’d said, what felt like eons ago at the steps. Where they’d met. She didn’t understand.

“Did you really wish for a man tonight?”

“Um. Forget I just said that, okay?”

Her skin moved against his teeth, slicing the smallest bit. Anso lifted several inches from the floor. Hovered there as the first hint of her blood seeped to the surface. Slowly sank back down.

“Any...man? Or me?”

The words were harsh-sounding. Almost guttural. Easily demonstrating how they’d grated against his throat.

“Anso.”

His name was a breathless tone, filled with emotion. He could only hope it was as it sounded – desperation.

“And you expect...obedience?”

The words were difficult to understand. He didn’t have much time left to explain them, either. His fangs were throbbing. His rod pressed against leather in accompaniment. This was becoming torment...to a painful degree.

“Just kiss me already!”

Anso rocked in place. Groaned. And did something much more potent.

He bit her.

Leah had always dealt with things from a certain standpoint. She believed that the mind was in control. The way a person experienced life was due to how their brain processed the data it received. Mind power was the key. It controlled everything, even physical response. The mind was the all-powerful controlling factor.

But it could do some strange things.

It brought monsters to life and made them terrifying entities, sent unshakable dark clouds to darken a sunny day, altered a beauty queen’s reflection into that of an ogre. The mind could turn any happy moment into a morass of decay and darkness. Most of her clients had contemplated suicide before seeing her. None had gone through with it.

And she was determined to keep that record.

That’s why she’d become a psychologist. She had a real gift. She’d felt it since childhood. She could relate to a person while she met with them, figure out and empathize with their underlying issues, and work with them. She didn’t conquer demons, she helped people figure out how to do it themselves. With that came a real sense of fulfillment and contentment. Leah had a lot of satisfied clients who referred her services to others. Steven commented on it at every monthly meeting.

She was absolutely certain the mind was the key to a happy life. It was able to see through any number of things to find reality. For some reason, hers had decided to take an unscheduled hiatus after the fourth shot of vodka, as if – all-of-a-sudden –she’d developed an allergy to alcohol and this was a Substance-Induced Psychotic Disorder. Or, maybe somebody had slipped her a drug for some reason and she was suffering Substance-Induced Psychotic Disorder with Hallucinations. Hard to believe Steven wouldn’t have seen that.

Or – just maybe – this was easily explainable. Perhaps she’d fallen off the bench and hit her head, knocking herself unconscious. It was possible. Fairly improbable – but still, there had to be an explanation for this. Because facts were facts. Immutable. Absolute. Incorruptible.

This man – this almost god-like guy – did not exist. He couldn’t. Not only was he way too gorgeous but he created all kinds of physical havoc throughout her body. Those were both impossible. Anso had not grabbed her to him and leapt into thin air. Nor had he somehow sped through the night sky. She’d watched it happen. That didn’t make it real. As for this silver room? The one with the big bed and decadently luxurious bedding? It didn’t exist, either, although if she had conjured up the perfect seductive atmosphere, she’d have imagined something like this.

Exactly.

Maybe she was just dreaming. It was very real, but some dreams were. And she had been tired. Perhaps the history of the city had gotten to her...as well as lack of sex. She could be suffering Hypoactive Sexual Disorder due to Separation Anxiety, but she doubted it. She’d had a good physical workout, sat down to rest, and this was the result. She’d gotten tired of waiting for the tour group, settled onto the bench, and simply nodded off. The chill hadn’t been conducive to a nap, but that was the most probable explanation for this. Because anything else was really ‘off-the-charts’ unbelievable.

But then Anso did something to her neck, and everything she thought she knew got upended.

And then obliterated.

The most heavenly symphony of sensation shot through her. Everywhere. Her breasts immediately felt fuller, heavy, and extremely sensitive. Her belly got a tickling sensation just before heat slammed through it on the way to her loins. And with that plethora of fire came an itch of irritation, and a lot of carnal desire.

A lot.

A heavy throbbing sound started up in the room, pulling her pulse into rhythm with it. Loud. Deep. Continual. Without any instruction from her, she turned toward him, shoved her breasts into his chest and started moving. Sinuously matching the beat about her. Her nipples went to hard knots against the lace-cupped bra –which should have scratched at least some of the itch – but, it didn’t. And the stupid silk blouse buttoned in the back. She couldn’t get any closer despite how she desperately needed to. And worse. The frustration turned into a cry that she actually voiced.

Oh no!

She was acting like a female in heat, something that should be exactly as embarrassing as it sounded...except that Anso pulled away from her and sent a harsh, bestial sound into existence. It blended with the throbbing permeating the room, lifted shivers all over her body, and covered over any noise she made. He also began shuddering so violently it lifted them from the floor. And they didn’t come back down.

“Bed,” she said.

“Yes,” he answered.

A moment later, her back, shoulders, and buttocks met the embroidered surface of that exquisite coverlet. Anso was right with her, holding her to him. Covering. Enclosing. Entwining. His hands slid along her arms, he twined his fingers with hers, and swung his arms wide, pushing their conjoined hands above her head, and then he stopped. For an incalculable amount of time. Poised above her. Looking down at her. Their gazes locked. Their breaths became huge heaves for air. Commingling. Raising rivulets of shivers, that each spewed sparks.

And there was something really strange about his mouth.

Those weren’t—?

He had
fangs?

Oh. No way. She had to dream up a gorgeous masculine god and then add in vampirism? Handsome, dark, and masculine weren’t enough? She had to stir a dangerous vibe in with the sexual ones already shooting off him? She struggled briefly against him but the pleasure of his touch, his body against hers left her panting with want. Hungry with need.

“Ans—?”

The name wasn’t finished. He tipped his head down, tickled the sides of her face with his unbound hair, and slammed his lips to hers. Leah sucked in air that brought a salty tang. She licked, and after the first taste, she was returning the kiss. Her body lurched up in surprise, the reaction mixed with pleasure, a torrent of unleashed passion. A tsunami of desire. Blizzard of want.

And a complete need for immediacy.

And then the kiss ended. Anso’s weight disappeared. The man moved with incredible speed. He was a blur at the side of the bed. Leah watched him shuck his sword and a long dagger somewhere behind him. They clattered against the stone floor. The leather strapped about his shoulders got pulled off next; the matching cuffs were yanked off his wrists, and then he started on his belt. The entire time, he didn’t move his eyes from hers.

Well
.

She didn’t need another hint. This was really happening. She might as well go with it.
Oh. Screw that idea.
She was going to be an active participant. It might be a dream, but it was the best damn dream she’d ever had. It would probably ruin her sex life for the rest of her mortal years. Turn her off every future encounter.

Leah ignored the slightest hint of inner voice.

The one that cautioned.

Warned.

And got silenced.

She sat, shoved her shoes off. Crawled to her knees, and—

This was weird.

It was her dream, yet she still wore Steve’s coat. How was that possible? It was undamaged, too. Well. No way was she damaging it. Or wrinkling it. Or doing anything that might clue Steven into the fact that she’d had a sex dream to end all sex dreams. Not even Doctor Freud would be able to analyze this. Leah opened buttons. The coat fell off. There wasn’t a hook in sight, so she did the next best thing. She stood and reached upward, barely managing to access the top of a cannonball post on the footboard so she could drape the suit coat over it.

Then she swiveled, looked over and then down to Anso. And her jaw dropped.

Holy shit.

The man hadn’t been idle. He’d shed his clothing and stood staring up at her with eyes that glowed a strange shade. Dark red. Like pooled blood. But she didn’t lock gazes with him this time. Nor did she stop and mentally process what really did look like fangs. There was a reason. Anso was a massive and chiseled male. She didn’t have any way to avoid seeing and recognizing just how massive and chiseled. And he certainly wasn’t suffering Male Erectile Dysfunction.
Oh. My.
He had his hands on his hips, his pose indicative of a Michelangelo sculpture. Only Anso had a lot more than any nude model she’d ever seen. He was obviously proud of that fact.

With good reason.

Oh. My. My. My
.

She’d been right. This dream was going to ruin her for any other man. And any other interlude. For life. And...what the heck? It was going to be worth it!

But wait!

Damn everything
.

She couldn’t go through with this. The man standing before her deserved a supermodel for a lover, someone as fit as he was. Not a woman with a weight problem. One who wore goddess-sized clothing from specialty stores. Atop a girdle thing called shape-wear.

Oh. Crap
.

She’d forgotten that. She’d have red marks. She’d probably look like a stuffed sausage. There was too much light in the room for this, and—

Anso growled.

He literally
growled
.

Bass tones surged through the room with such power it lifted strands of her hair. The notes reached out and joined the thumping rhythm already in existence. Her thighs trembled with a rush of weakness. Her knees were next. Leah grabbed onto the footboard post to keep from falling. She moved her glance to the wood. It was solid. Heavy. Cool to the touch. And even that felt erotic between her breasts!

“What?” she whispered.

“You need to finish. Now.”

Leah cleared her throat. It sounded ineffectual, and proved as much when she spoke, trying to sound assertive, even while facing the post. “Whoa. Anso. Um. There is machismo, and there is over-the-top macho. And I’m telling you—.”

“I warn you,
wiblih
. You do not have much time.”

She gasped. Her eyes went wide. Her voice managed to work. “What...does that word mean?”

“Female.”

Her eyes went even wider.

“I will tear your clothing from you.”

He wouldn’t dare.

She sent a glance toward him. He looked like it wasn’t an idle threat. And damn everything. He also looked amazing masculine, supremely turned on, and even more defined and large than before.

Everywhere.

Well.

What the hell.

This was her dream, but if this fantasy-god made one wisecrack about her Junoesque figure or love handles or how she needed to hit a gym or stay away from the doughnuts – just one – she was ending this. She only hoped she didn’t cry for a week afterward, too.

The linen jacket came off easily. The blouse buttons at the back of her neck gave her a little trouble. She pulled the silk over her head, creating static that lifted hair strands with the motion. Now that her jacket was off, the tight confines of her skirt were on display. She had to peel it down over her hips before shimmying it to a pool of fabric at her ankles. She glanced down. She’d been right. The flesh-toned girdle made her look like a stuffed sausage. She should have bought the larger size. She braved a glance toward Anso to see his reaction. He was frowning. His upper lip was lifted in a sneer. And there was no denying it.

He really did have fangs.
Real ones!

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit

Oh, shit.

“You are a maid?” he asked.

Leah blinked. She had to process this. Her mind needed to—

“Is that why you wear a chastity belt?” he continued.

“A...what?”

“That.”

He pointed. At her girdle. Leah blushed severely. A portion of her brain told her this was not how a dream was supposed to go. The rest of her was beyond thought. Her entire body was alert. Despite embarrassment, she felt irritated. Moist. Ready.

She knew exactly what she wanted.

And where.

She licked her lips. “There is nothing chaste...about this, okay? It’s a foundation garment. For a full-figured woman.”

Anso growled again, this time in an even lower timbre, as if that was even possible. The throbs of sound about her went louder. Stronger. And the same exact sequence of events happened throughout her body, only this time the weak feeling wasn’t just at her legs. It slithered a bit higher and that messed with her ability to think, speak, and breathe.

“N-now what?” she asked.

“I grant you time to explain.”

She pulled in a long breath to answer. It sounded like a gasp to her ears. And –
damn everything –
she even stuttered. “L—l-look. Um. A-Anso? I—. This is not a chastity belt. Okay? I’m not a virgin. This is a girdle. I’m wearing it to create...um. Womanly curves! You know. To make me look...thinner.”

Her voice fell off. It was his fault. His frown deepened, and now he looked angry. Almost scary. And those fangs of his were white. Long. Sharp. Impossible to miss. And incredibly sexy. He breathed in huge gulps of air as he glared up at her, and exhaled them just as harshly. She watched his eyes roam the length of her body. Back to her face. Her heart sank. He was going to deny her, laugh at her, turn away…