In the Blood (6 page)

The living room was empty, the large windows uncovered. The traffic outside had slowed. While New York might be the city that never sleeps, it certainly looked as if everyone was taking a nap. Probably one of the benefits of living in a wealthy neighborhood. When the banks closed, so did everything else.

Not able to bring herself closer to the windows and their dizzying view, she wandered past the fireplace and ran her fingers along the mantel. In the dark, the marble walls and black furniture made the room a void. It unnerved Cassie and forced her to retreat to the hallway she’d come from. Far at the end, at the double doors leading to Viktor’s bedroom, faint light glowed.

Would it be intrusive to knock and speak to him, if just to pass the time? She wondered if he was just as lonely as she was, sitting up all night alone. She stopped outside the door and knocked softly. When he didn’t answer, she knocked again, then pushed on the open door to widen the opening just slightly.

“Viktor?” Her softly spoken question ended on a gasp. Viktor was not lonely. At least, he wasn’t alone. And he didn’t look lonely at the moment.

Her heart pounding, Cassie took a step back. Otherwise occupied, Viktor and his companion hadn’t noticed her. That left her with the awkward decision of whether or not she should leave, or stay to watch and assuage her curiosity.

It wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen people having sex before. One of her easiest clients had been a very successful real estate developer who often just wanted her to watch him with one of his mistresses. She’d never seen a vampire have sex before and, while it didn’t seem all the different from a human having sex, she’d never seen a man fuck another man. Which was exactly what was happening in Viktor’s room.

She pressed her face to the crack between the doors, chastising herself for spying but unable to resist her curiosity. A fire burned in the sleek marble fireplace, and Viktor knelt, naked, on the plush white rug in front of it, his head thrown back, mouth open and groaning with pleasure. His hands twisted in the shoulder-length dark hair of a young man lying in front of him. The light of the fire cast the men’s bodies in a golden glow, gilding the droplets of sweat on the young man’s tight muscles.

“Enough,” Viktor warned, and the man pulled back. Viktor climbed to his feet, and Cassandra’s view was blocked by the angle of the room, but the brief glimpse she’d caught revealed the deception of Viktor’s finely tailored clothes. Those expensive suits hid the body of a man more accustomed to the weight room than the boardroom.

The young man waited patiently, a slow smile curving his lips as he watched what Cassie couldn’t see. When Viktor stepped into view, she saw what had made the guy on the floor so happy. Viktor moved toward him, stroking his hand up and down the length of the longest, thickest cock Cassie had ever seen. She covered her mouth to stifle her cry of surprise, her cunt growing wet as she watched Viktor’s hand gripping his massive shaft.

The guy on the floor whistled and laughed. Viktor smiled graciously, as if he’d just been complimented on having a lovely home or good skin. Cassie almost laughed herself. When Viktor dropped to his knees again, the man’s bravado faded a bit. “Go slow, okay?”

“I will,” Viktor reassured him. “And if you find me…too difficult to take, let me know. It will not affect your payment.”

It sounded like Viktor made a routine of this. Something akin to jealousy flared in Cassie’s mind, but she dismissed it. Viktor had been honest with her when she’d first come here. He’d told her that he had other sources of…well, whatever it was he liked to do with male prostitutes. And she couldn’t exactly judge him for being a john, when they’d met on the job. He hadn’t declared true love, and she had to admit she wouldn’t have been brave enough to let him in through the backdoor, so to speak. There was no reason to be jealous.

There was no reason to peep, either, but she couldn’t look away as Viktor positioned himself behind the man, who supported himself on his hands and knees. Cassie had been so intent on staring at Viktor’s cock that she hadn’t seen the condom in his other hand. He unrolled it down his length and reached for something out of her line of sight, coming back with a bottle of lube. He pumped a generous amount into his hands and smeared it over his penis, then dispensed more and slid his fingers into the cleft of the man’s ass.

“Your hands are cold,” the man purred, reaching down to grip his own cock.

Cassandra reached down too, her fingers bunching the material of her nightgown, lifting it higher. Actually having sex with someone didn’t get her as hot as just watching Viktor. She practically ached with emptiness, and she pressed her thighs together, her channel spasming, begging to be filled.

What was she thinking? She should be insulted that Viktor, who had seemed pretty darn attracted to her earlier that evening, had apparently been hiding a gay streak a mile long. Why had he pretended? Why had he kissed her?

Those concerns fled as she watched Viktor lean over the man, easing the wide head of his erection against the man’s body. The man hissed and buried his face against his arm as Viktor pressed forward, then halted. “Are you all right?”

That was far gentler treatment than Cassandra would have expected from a client, even the ones at 4-1-2. No one had ever hurt her outright, but none had been anything close to considerate without her prompting. The man made a strangled noise but nodded, so Viktor pressed forward, so slowly as to make Cassie aware of the breath she held.

“God,” the man on the floor groaned, rolling his head back. The tension in his face changed to joyous relief and back again as if someone had flipped a light switch. Viktor laughed softly, but his concentration never wavered. The hard ridges of muscle across his stomach contracted and he shuddered as his control slipped and he drove the rest of himself into his partner’s body. The man gasped loud enough to cover Cassie’s own startled noise.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor panted, his head and shoulders slumping like a runner recovering from a losing race.

The guy grimaced, but shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry about. Let’s go.”

It didn’t take any more encouraging. Viktor growled, and the feral sound shot straight to Cassie’s dripping core. Almost without realizing what she intended, she slipped two fingers between her folds and over her clit. Her teeth sank into her lip, a dam holding back the sea of moans and gasps that she feared would overwhelm her. The threat of being discovered and the mortification that would follow seemed such a small thing to risk. Her eyes closed as she swirled her fingertips over her swollen flesh, and she forced them to open to take in more of the scene before her.

Viktor grasped the man on the floor by one shoulder, forcing him back as he drove forward. Violent exhalations burst from the man’s throat and his hand worked furiously on his cock while his hips bucked in time to Viktor’s punishing thrusts. “So fucking good,” the man babbled senselessly.

It certainly looked fucking good from where Cassie stood. A sheen of sweat stood out on Viktor’s pale body. Ropes of muscle strained against skin as he slammed his hips against the man’s ass. The man shouted, his cock spurting thick white fluid over his hand and onto the rug.

Cassie’s orgasm caught her quickly, and she gripped the door for support as her knees buckled. She prayed silently that she wouldn’t make a sound or, worse, topple through the door entirely.

While the man still trembled from his release, Viktor grabbed a handful of dark hair and pulled the man’s head back, exposing his throat. He opened his mouth to reveal needle-sharp fangs that gleamed in the firelight like something out of a horror movie. Paralyzed with pleasure and fear, Cassandra could not look away in the brief second it took for Viktor to bite into the man’s corded neck.

Her heart pounding, Cassandra could not believe what she saw. She’d thought she’d understood what Viktor was. Hadn’t he drunk her blood? Fought off the monsters that had attacked her? She’d seen his missing reflection too, but none of those things had truly gotten across the reality of what Viktor was. Not like this.

The man screamed and struggled. Viktor broke his mouth, smeared horrific red, away from the man’s throat and hissed strange words into his ear. Immediately, the man’s struggles ceased, and Viktor pressed his lips over the wound, sucking noisily against it. The man moaned and arched his back, grinding against Viktor’s pumping hips. Viktor tore his mouth from the bite in the man’s neck and, to Cassandra’s astonishment, the wound closed before her eyes. With a low groan, Viktor shuddered against the man, ramming his hips forward one last time.

Cassandra backed away, terrified that when Viktor’s head cleared he would look up and finally notice her. She could not turn away from the door, paralyzed by the fear that if she did, he would see her fleeing and know that she saw. Somehow, staring at the door and creeping slowly backward was the only way she could imagine keeping it from happening. The tension was too great to bear after only a few steps, and she turned and ran with the lightest steps possible back to her room. She leapt into bed and burrowed as far under the covers as she could stand, certain that any moment he would poke his head in to check and see if she were awake. Pretending sleep soon threatened to give way to actual sleep, and she succumbed, one hand protectively clenched around her throat.

Viktor rolled away from Christopher’s prone form. He didn’t bother to look back. There had been nothing wrong with the young man’s performance. In fact, the only thing he seemed to be lacking was the fact that he was not Cassandra.

Pushing the guilt from his mind, he got to his feet. He’d needed to feed. There was nothing wrong in that. Blood to keep his heart pumping, intimacy to halt his inevitable slide into the abyss.

Why did he feel as though he’d betrayed her? He reached for his robe, then tossed it aside. He needed fresh air, before the sun came up. He pulled a pair of jeans from his dresser and put them on, then shoved his arms into the black button-down shirt he’d left balled up on the floor.

Halfway through the living room, he felt her presence like the prick of a needle all over his skin. He waited a few more strides to see if she would speak. When she did not, he said, “Join me, if you like.”

He didn’t wait to see if she followed. He knew that she did. Pushing open the door to the terrace, he stepped out into the night air. She paused at the door, a little gasp escaping her throat. She held one pale hand to the bare skin over her collarbones. The light night breeze stirred her silk nightgown and flattened the fabric against her body, accentuating the line that bisected her toned stomach, the soft mound at the juncture of her thighs. Despite his encounter with Christopher, his body longed for her. Not solely sexually, though he did grow hard at the sight of her hard nipples straining against her nightgown. No, he wanted her, but he wanted to hold her, to feel her safe in his arms, real and alive.

Do you long for her, or do you long for Melina?

“There is no need to fear. I would not let you fall.” He leaned against the sleek railing, arms braced wide, letting the cool night wind push through his open shirt.

“I know I won’t fall.” She sounded almost ashamed of her fear. “You’ve been so good to me.”

He turned and held out his hand to her, and she took it, stepping easily into his embrace. Her skin was remarkably warm and alive against his. Soft in a way that Christopher had not been. And familiar. Her body was so familiar. He held her close, burying his face in her hair.

“
Miluji tě
, Viktor.
Neopouštěj mě znovu
.”

I love you, Viktor. Do not leave me again
.

Every synapse in his brain beat to desperate alert. He lifted his head, not daring to look at her face, not willing to believe that this might be a dream. But he had to look, and when she lifted her head, her face creased in concern, Melina’s face had replaced Cassandra’s.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, this apparition with Melina’s face and Cassandra’s voice. He backed away, felt the hard iron rail at his back and, in a horrifying moment, felt it disintegrate. Tumbling back, he opened his mouth to scream, only to see Melina change shape, twisting into the grotesque form of a Minion.

Dripping with sweat and gasping for breath, Viktor sat up. The air in his darkened room prickled with the daylight that loomed behind the window shades. Christopher was long gone, as was the money Viktor had left for him. Cassandra remained, a rosy glow that lay gently at the edges of his mind. Just her presence helped calm him.

As he dressed for the day, Viktor tried to shake the terror of the dream. Though it was tempting to ruminate on the possible meanings behind it, he knew better than to expect any good to come from dwelling on nightmares. Some might have the gift for divining from dreams, but he had never found a useful message in them. He expended unusual concentration on tasks that were usually automated: fastening cufflinks, buttoning his shirt, tying his tie. Any small task that would distance him from the lingering shadow of his dream.

When he passed the room Cassandra had slept in, he noticed that the bed was empty and unmade. He continued to the living room, mentally bracing himself for her presence.

Seated in a leather armchair, wrapped in the silk robe he had left out for her, Cassandra leaned over a coffee table covered with takeout boxes. The smell of the food assaulted him, and Viktor took a step back. Usually, his apartment smelled like…nothing. It had been a very long time since he’d seen human food in his home, and this smelled strongly of cotton oil and broccoli.

Though he hadn’t made a sound, Cassandra straightened, her head whipping around out of reflex. Gone was the temptress from his dream, replaced with an almost wholesome side of Cassandra that he had not thought to see before. Dressed in a silk camisole and her jeans from the night before, she couldn’t have been more sexy, but it was the way she looked, the way her pulse was visible in her throat and her eyes went wide, searching for some threat, that captured him. That this beautiful creature lived in such fear that it had become reflex broke his heart. The night before she’d warmed to him, or at least it had seemed as though she had. Perhaps it had just been the shock of the attack, of all she had learned, that had left her vulnerable to him. That bothered him more than it ought.