His Mortal Soul (6 page)

She was talking, but was not sure if her words made any sense. She wasn't getting the impression that she had managed to reassure him.

"Shit.” He sounded upset, yet distant.

Maybe he hadn't calmed down.

"I'm going to need to give you my blood,” he said.

"Kinky.” Not that she wasn't intrigued by the thought of tasting him, but sleep still held the more appealing proposition. “It will need to wait until after my nap."

He withdrew from her and laid her down.

"Thanks, Kieran. I promise when I wake up I'll make it up to you."

"
I don't know what I'm doing, Sephora. She never told me anything about what I am. You might be better off dead than what I am
,” Kieran said in her mind.

"
I can't believe you'd think such a horrible thing. Despite what you assume about yourself, you've helped people—helped me
.” Too many people placed good and evil into neat little boxes. It wasn't that simple. She'd seen real evil, and Kieran was nothing like that. It was dark, empty and ugly, and he was none of those. “
Even a heathen like me can see the good in you
."

"
If you turn, I won't abandon you the way she did me. I promise you this, Sephora
.” His voice faded into the distance. “Open your mouth."

Even in her heavy slumber, his spoken words shot heat through her. “Mmm."

His fingers parted her lips. Drips of thick liquid splattered on her tongue. She swallowed. Blistering heat ignited every inch of her. She opened her eyes. His wrist was above her mouth and blood flowed from a cut. Without intending to, she rose toward the wound and covered it with her lips. She suckled. It was delicious, liquid bliss. His fluid filled her mouth, and she gulped.

"Enough, Sephora,” he said, and pulled his arm back.

"More.” She crawled on top of him. Her entire body flushed with need—for him to possess her. “I need you inside me.” Tucking her face close to his ear, she licked and nipped. She stroked his hard cock with her hand. He needed to be inside her body, in the one place she'd shared with no one. “I want you in my ass.” She'd never trusted anyone to share such a forbidden pleasure with her. “Bring my fantasy to life."

"You know not what you say. It's my blood.” He flattened back her curls. “Liquid lust courses in your veins, filling you with my deepest desire. I woke with the same hunger, that of my maker, and had she or a woman been there, God only knows what I would have done with her."

"I've never felt freer than I do when I'm with you.” She pumped with her hand, up and down his shaft. “Would you deny me this pleasure—us—this intimacy?” Hot juices slickened her folds. She needed him to fulfill her.

"No.” He cupped her face. “I'd withhold nothing from you,
mo lon dubh
. But this isn't you."

Fever burned her flesh as his lips covered hers. “It's what I want to give you. The one pleasure I've shared with no one. I want to know it with you.” The taste of him mixed with hers on his mouth. She pressed with her tongue to part his lips.

"You are sure you want this?” he asked.

She sensed his restraint crumbling. “More than my next breath."

He lifted her, turned her over and laid her on her stomach. The sound of him removing the condom built her anticipation. Once he put the used one in the trash, he reached in the drawer for another.

She put her hand on his arm and stopped him.

"Are you sure?” he asked.

She nodded.

As he knelt between her legs, her clit pulsed. Soft kisses moved up her spine. A cool breeze, the feel of him danced over her, sending solar flares off inside her body.

"Kieran.” The desperate demand in her voice echoed in the tiny space.

"I will not disappoint you. Let me savor this union.” He planted soft pecks on her, moving downward. “I too have had the fantasy of sharing this intimacy with you.” Between each word, he licked a trail down the ridge of her buttocks’ cheeks. The moist feel of his tongue lapped her rear opening.

She quivered at his mastery. “I really like that."

Back and forth, he licked. Wetting the area with his tongue, he sailed around and around.

She gripped the covers. Juices slid to her thighs from her body's response to his stimulation, her pussy was so hot with need.

He groaned, kissing and biting his way up her back to her shoulder. “You taste like perfection.” He spat in his hand, lowered it and stroked his cock. “You must tell me if at any point I'm hurting you."

The tip of his penis pushed against her tight entrance. She gritted her teeth then relaxed into the discomfort. Pleasure moved through her. “More."

He pushed deeper, slowly. “Patience,
mo lon dubh
."

It wasn't surprising how much care he took with her. He covered her hands with his and locked his fingers with hers. The depth of his intrusion increased with each pass. He barely weighed on her. Her inner folds throbbed with need, quivering from the intensity of sharing this with him.

"
Mo salvation
.” She was his salvation. When he spoke Gaelic, it seemed more personal to him. He pushed completely into her.

Inside, she trembled with liquid need, which rushed in waves against the shores of her bliss. He lifted her back to his chest as he knelt, and so did she.

The reflection of them in the window was better than any erotic illusion she'd ever fantasized about. His pale skin contrasted with her brown flesh. He took hold of her breast and pinched her nipple. The defined lines of his chiseled body glistened.

"Aren't we beautiful together?” He sounded hoarse.

She turned her face to his. “Perfection.” His blue eyes captured her in the ocean of longing she found there. He kissed her as his other hand descended to her folds and rubbed.

Her thighs quaked from the overload on her senses. He plunged his fingers into her slick canal. Quickly, in and out, he stoked the inner fire raging. Supported by him, she surrendered her body, molding to him. With his thumb, he circled her clit.

She relinquished herself to the ecstasy, gushing her climax onto his hand. “Kieran."

"Sephora.” He pumped uncontrollably and brought his fingers to her lips.

She suckled her release from his fingers as hot cum filled her from his orgasm.

"
Is brea liom tu
, Sephora,” he said softly into her ear.

He loved her. And in her heart, she felt the same for him. Her mind wanted to protest, but her body, heart and soul won out. “
Is brea liom tu, Kieran
,” she repeated softly.

"
Dtuigeann tu me
?” he asked.
Do you understand me?

"Why wouldn't I?” She kissed his cheek. “Can we rest some before we get worked up again?"

Withdrawing from her, he stared, examining her, then he nodded, laid her down and wrapped an arm around her.

Tonight, he had showed her such wonders. She kissed his mouth. In the morning she'd speak to him about the future. Their future. Anything was possible. She'd fallen madly in love with a vampire about to become a priest. If that could happen, nothing was beyond reaching for.

In the warmth and safety of his touch, she drifted...

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Kieran held Sephora tightly against his body. Her warmth worked its way into him. When he'd spoken Gaelic she'd understood his words, but didn't seem to realize she had. How was that even possible? Had sharing his blood with her been the cause? Saying the words back to him must have been reflex. She couldn't have meant to say she loved him. How could she speak his language without an accent? Perhaps he wasn't meant to know.

The sun would soon rise. That was something else the demon sensed, a method of self-preservation, which he often ignored.

She had given him more of herself than he ever could have hoped for. It was time for him to set his beautiful blackbird free.

He was grateful his carelessness with her hadn't cost her mortal life too. The effects of drinking his blood would wear off soon, he hoped. It was in her best interest for him to go through with his ordination. No matter what he wanted to believe, there was evil inside him that could harm her. If he stayed, it was only a matter of time before he claimed her life. Each time he'd drunk from her the need had grown deeper. Eventually he'd completely lose control.

Perhaps it was an insurance policy between lovers that each time the demon took more until he was forced to turn her to ensure he didn't kill her during an exchange. So one lover couldn't leave the other. Eventually he'd need to choose whether to turn her.

As he shifted her, she grunted in disapproval.

Reluctantly he rose from the bed and covered her with a blanket. Sunlight peeked over the horizon. He retreated to the dark corner of her room. A photo of her with an older man and woman holding her hung on the wall. They had similar features. Her parents. He'd nearly taken her from her family.

As he snatched his clothes from the floor around the bed, sunlight touched him and his hand sizzled with blisters. He clenched his jaw shut.

Streaks of sun glowed on her skin. He'd feared he had provided her too much of his blood. It was good to know that she was still a child of the light, unlike him. His departure would insure she stayed that way.

He dressed, walked to the door and stared at the handle. “Forgive me."

"Kieran,” she mumbled, rolling over. “Mmm."

The pounding of his heart in his chest pained him as he grabbed the doorknob. Unlike how most believed vampires’ bodies functioned, their souls were caged in flesh unable to move on to the next existence. Feeding on humans nourished the vital systems of their prison so they didn't become like mummies.

He opened the door, exited and closed it behind him. Hood on his head, he slipped out into the shaded areas, then into the forest. There he moved at the speed of sound. Birds scattered as they sensed a predator. From the side entrance, he slipped into the residence building. Fellow deacons filed down for Morning Prayer. Many were first years, young and eager at the beginning of their journey of faith. Most had never really had their beliefs tested.

"Kieran,” Father O'Brian called to Kieran and stopped in front of him.

"Yes, Father,” he said, though he didn't want to speak with him. Another conversation about his situation would only fatigue him. It was now for him and God to work it out.

"You haven't been home all night.” Father O'Brian frowned.

The stairwell was now vacant. The other students had gone to Mass. Kieran lowered his head. When he had awakened with the thirst, he hadn't known where to go. That night faded from his memory every day.

The woman by the side of his jogging route had caught his attention. She had been physically attractive, but something wasn't right about her. She played the damsel in need of help. Something inexplicable drew him to her. It could have been her voice ensnaring him or her willing him to go to her.

"Do you believe everyone deserves to be forgiven by God?” she had asked him.

It wasn't for him to judge. “All those who truly seek His absolution, He shall grant it."

"You are so pure of heart and mind. You know nothing of the true struggle between good and evil.” She launched herself on top of him, overpowering him with ease.

As Sephora had, he'd pleaded with God that his life be spared, but the price had been too great. Perhaps if he had prayed for his attacker's soul, or worried about those who would be hurt by his death. Rather, he'd thought of himself, of not being ready to go. He'd woken by the bank of the river. No sign of the woman, but he'd had a thirst for blood and flesh that had brought him to the brink of madness and made him a demon.

Father O'Brian had been out in the seminary's garden, praying, when Kieran had returned to campus. “Kieran,” the father had said. His name had lingered in the air.

They had both known he wasn't himself anymore. Together they had worked to keep the illusion alive, to hide his true nature. He'd bought Kieran time to try to make sense of his curse. Father O'Brian had helped him find a source of nourishment that his body didn't reject. Pigs’ blood was the closest genetically to humans.

"Have you given into the pull? Hurt another or claimed a life?” Father O'Brian asked. It was a matter of time before the demon won out. The barrage of questions were further proof that Father O'Brian knew this too.

It was not as simple as that to answer his question. “Its strength nearly overwhelmed me. I could have killed her."

"Her? Who is this
her
you speak of?” Father O'Brian stepped closer. “Is there a woman out there, injured?"

"No.” Though her heart might be wounded, as his was. “
Mo lon dubh
, but I've set her free. Physically restored.” He sighed. Still she slept, he sensed it. If when she woke she came to him before he completed the ceremony, he wouldn't have the strength to send her away. Since that wasn't likely, he'd cherish the time they'd had.

"Did she want to be set free?"

"I'm not sure I understand your question. Do you think it was easy for me? Every part of me wanted to stay.” Hurt burned the corner of his eyes. She would wake alone without a reason why. “I'm not a man. I did it for her own good."

"She believes you to be a man?"

One answer only led to another question. He needed to end this conversation. The last thing Kieran wanted was to justify his decision, when he struggled to remain committed to it. Father O'Brian might change his mind. He was doing this to protect her.

"Kieran, this isn't how God means for your life to end. If you do this, you are taking your own life. You know what happens to the souls of those who die at their own hand."

"They burn in Hell for eternity. Perhaps that's where those like me belong. I want her to have all my earthly belongings.” Once he burst into flames his life would end. She'd sense it because he'd shared his blood with her. She would come there to find out what happened—for closure. How he knew this he wasn't sure, but he did. “You'll know who she is the moment you set eyes on her.” It was pointless to try to convince Father O'Brian. He had never agreed with Kieran's decision. “I've got to wash up and change for my ordination. Please, excuse me."