Kiss Me When the Sun Goes Down (20 page)

I expected him to walk us back to the couch, but instead he pressed me up against the wall, a dark need lending an urgency to his kiss I hadn’t felt before.  Despite the war he waged with his mouth, his hands were gentle, almost light as they explored my curves, sending shivers in their wake.  He found the edge of my skirt, slowly easing it up to find the damp lace between my thighs.  I reached for him, finding him hard and ready for me, and I stroked him boldly, letting him know he didn’t have to be all that gentle with me. 

His hips bucked at my touch, grinding him into me as he moaned against my lips, fingers flexing in an almost brutal hold as he tore his mouth from mine.  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he panted, his breath ragged at my ear with barely restrained need. 

I stroked again, loving the hitch in his breath as I squeezed him tight.  “Don’t you want to?”

“God yes,” he groaned, unable to stop kissing down the side of my neck and bare shoulders as he spoke.  “It’s all I’ve wanted for the longest time.  I’m just not sure I’ll be able to stop once we start this.”

“I don’t want you to.”

His head came up, his gaze dark in the dimly lit room.  “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

Oh yes, if he felt half of what he did to me with a single look, I knew just how much he wanted me.  I opened my mouth to tell him how badly I ached to have him inside me, but at the last second I changed my mind.  “Show me,” I challenged him, and the corner of his mouth twitched into a half smile. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

I wasn’t expecting him to sink to his knees right there, or the quick tug that had my panties around my ankles a half second later.  “Here?” I gulped, when I felt his kiss on my knee, strong fingers brushing up the backs of my calves. 

“You picked this room, not me.”  His words rumbled through me as he slowly nibbled his way north, nudging my legs gently apart. 

“Yes, but...”  Words deserted me as I felt the tease of his breath on my most intimate place, the rasp of his beard on my inner thigh a welcome tingle.  “Oh, I... I thought maybe the couch...”

“Too far.”

Too far?  It was barely twenty feet away.  His fingers parted my slick folds, and my body jolted at the contact, head falling back against the wall.  “If someone comes in, they’ll see.”

“Then you’d better be quiet.” 

I bit my lip, bracing myself for the touch of his mouth, but he held me spread open for long seconds, drinking in the sight of me.  His breath fanned out, cool against my delicate flesh, making me clench with need, and a whimper of desire escaped me.  I felt his answering smile against my thigh, and he did it again, more deliberately this time, his breath targeted at the hidden pearl until it ached to be touched. 

That wasn’t where the first touch came though.  His one hand still held me splayed open, while the other slowly caressed the sensitive lips, dipping into the slickness inside, his movements in time with the minuet that sprang up in the ballroom.  Those elegant fingers I’d seen master the piano played me with no less finesse, caressing and stroking, driving me insane with want every time they circled closer to where I needed it the most.  I should’ve known when it would come – the music held the key.  At the crescendo, his mouth joined in, closing over the tiny nub to take up the rhythm. 

I cried out at the exquisite slide of his tongue, and he pulled back, lips curving smugly.  “You scream and Gunnar will come running.  Do you understand?”

I nodded, incapable of words as he bent to my waiting flesh again.  My chest heaved as I sucked in breath after breath, trying desperately to curb my cries as he resumed the beat of the music.  I couldn’t help it though, especially when he sank two fingers inside me as a delicious counterpart.  I’d already bitten through my lip to keep from crying out, the scent of my blood in the air pushing his movements harder and faster.

His free arm held me there like an band of iron, but the truth was, I couldn’t have moved even if he let go.  I was trapped in place by the lightest, feathery rasp of his tongue, not daring to move or even breathe for fear I might lose the glorious throb that built and built.  It felt so... I wanted.... I needed... it was there, so close...  I waited for the sting of teeth, but it was his skill alone that brought me to a shuddering peak.  Only then, did his fangs pierce me, catapulting me even higher as the last strains of the song died around us.  And then I did scream against his hand, my own fangs descending to taste his blood.  He groaned as I pulled at his flesh, sucking harder at mine, and we pulsed together, caught in that intimate loop of shared blood and pleasure.

I would’ve fallen then if he hadn’t held me up, my muscles trembling and straining as my entire body sang under his relentless touch.  Bishop seemed to know exactly when to ease off, the waves of delight gradually ebbing, until they faded to a pleasant haze.  And then he stood, sweeping me up to carry me to the couch, no longer deemed too far as he laid me upon it.  I gave a lazy stretch, smiling up at him when he sat on the floor beside me. 

“There’s room for you on the couch if I scoot over.”

“I’m good for now.”

“Very, very good for me, but what about you?  You didn’t...”

“No, not yet, but I can wait for you to recover.”

“I can’t.  I need you inside me, now.”

“Yes,” was all he said, his hands colliding with mine as we both reached for his belt at the same time.  We shared a laugh as I left him to work the belt and my hands went to the buttons of his shirt.

And then someone screamed. 

We both went perfectly still, trying to figure out if we’d imagined it, but the fact that we’d both stopped seemed like a bad sign. 

“People scream all the time at these things,” Bishop shrugged it away, peeling away the belt to open his pants.

“They do?”  Somehow, I couldn’t quite bring myself to believe that.  Especially, when another scream pierced the air and the orchestra stopped playing. 

Bishop pressed his head to my shoulder with a groan.  “I can’t catch a fucking break.” 

I started buttoning up his shirt as sounds of chaos erupted from the direction of the ballroom.  “Whatever it is, we’d better go check it out.”

“I know,” he nodded, setting his clothes to rights as I searched for and found my discarded panties and slipped them on.  By the time I was ready to go, so was he, frustration lending an extra glower to his usual game face. 

“Bishop?” I said, reaching up to cup the side of his face.

“Yeah.”

“We’re definitely coming back to this.”

“You’d better believe it.”

H
ave you ever seen those horror movies where the possessed start spewing bodily fluids with enough force, that you have to sit back and laugh?  There was nothing funny about what Bishop and I walked in on in the ballroom.  All over the room, elegant ladies and gentleman were in varying degrees of vomiting blood, some more spectacularly than others, so that my spiffy ballroom looked like a slaughterhouse. 

Bakareh was one of the worst hit, bawling like a baby over his soiled robes.  Amunet was the one I felt sorry for, spending her time between patting her king soothingly on the back, and delicately retching herself, behind the throne while Chad held her hair.

A quick search turned up Mason and Hanna doing fine, though Hanna looked a bit green over the spectacle.  Gunnar and Carter showed no sign of sickness, but poor Felix didn’t look too good.  Two of the council members present seemed to be fine too, while the other three were as sick as anyone.  Jennike watched the scene with amused interest, not a hair on her perfect head out of place. 

The ballroom emptied fast of those who could walk, but Carter was faster, ordering the sealing of the doors and the gates locked up tight. 

Bishop hopped up on the raised stage, stepping carefully, as the orchestra was hit by the strange sickness as well.  “Nobody leaves until we figure out what went down here,” he called out, and everyone responded to the authority in his voice, more whimpering and moaning than complaining. 

A few questions later, it was evident that everyone who’d sampled the fresh blood offered in sherry glasses had been struck by the strange illness, in varying degrees, depending on how much they’d consumed.  The pool of feeders who’d provided the blood seemed unaffected though, and none offered any useful information as to how the blood had been tainted, even under compulsion.

“Open the doors to the patio,” I ordered, holding my breath until the cool night air carried away the worst of the sour stench.  There was one person I didn’t see anywhere, the founder of the feast.  “And bring me Vaughn.” 

Gunnar produced Mr. Vaughn minutes later, hauling the suave gentleman in by the collar.  “I find him trying to jump from the second floor balcony,” he reported, and I fixed the fugitive with my sternest look.  It helped that I had Bishop, Carter, Gunnar, and Lee standing beside me to add that extra touch of menace without saying a word.

Vaughn kept his cool pretty well for a guy staring down a room full of angry vampires with retribution on their minds.  He straightened his tie when Gunnar let go of him, adjusting his cuffs before he spoke.  “I had nothing to do with this,” he insisted.

“And yet, you’re the one who had plenty of opportunity to poison the blood supply,” I pointed out.

“I can assure you, the blood was not tainted when they were delivered.  I sampled one of them myself.”

“Why did you run then?”

He merely shrugged.  “People start vomiting blood, I try to be elsewhere.  You locked the doors, so it was necessary to get creative.”

“I’ll get it out of him,” Carter volunteered, and I recognized the glint that came into his eyes. 

“You know we don’t need to use violence.”

“Sure we don’t
need
to, but I
want
to,” Carter grinned, and Mason let out a bark of laughter.

“I love this guy!” he declared, clapping Carter on the shoulder. 

“You can save your man crush for another time, my sister looks like she could use some fresh air.”

“You’re not wrong there,” Hanna declared, only just making it to the terrace before she was noisily sick over the railing. 

Luckily, the rest of the room seemed to be recovering, no worse for wear once the tainted blood was expelled from their systems.  It would be a nightmare to clean up, but at least I didn’t have any casualties to worry about.  I couldn’t tell if Vaughn was on the level or not, and there was only one way to find out. 

“Bring him,” I ordered, leading the way out of the ruined ballroom.  I took them into the chamber Bishop and I had vacated, snapping on the lights.  Gunnar and Lee didn’t look too disappointed at standing guard outside the room as I let in only Vaughn, Carter, and Bishop.

“I give you my word as a gentleman, I had absolutely no part in this,” Vaughn insisted, looking worried for the first time as Bishop shut the door. 

“No good, I’ve known too many gentlemen,” Carter replied with a malicious grin, obviously enjoying watching Vaughn squirm.  “Go ahead, sunshine, do your thing.” 

Vaughn’s voice cranked up all high and squeaky as he recoiled from me.  “Really, there’s no need for pain.  I’ll tell you anything you need to know.”

“I know you will,” I smiled sweetly, catching hold of his will with mine.  “Now, tell me, did you know about the tainted blood?”

His face relaxed under my compulsion, his normal speaking voice returning.  “No.”

“No knowledge of any part of it?”

“No, none.”

“Well, shoot.”  My shoulders slumped in disappointment.  “What are we supposed to do now?”

Bishop paced back and forth, scratching at his upper lip with the tip of his thumb.  “Ask him if he knows who might’ve had a hand in it,” he suggested.

“None of my people,” he insisted.  “People didn’t get sick right away.”

“He’s right,” I realized.  “If the feeders had been tainted on delivery, it seems like we would’ve seen the symptoms in the first hour.  No, whoever did this, it was after the party was already going.” 

“Are we done with this guy then?” Carter asked, watching Vaughn with a calculating gaze. “I feel like we should get in a few shots while we have the chance.”

“What for?” I frowned.  “We already got the answers we were looking for.”

“Yeah, but nobody knows that,” Carter insisted.  “They’ll expect to see him roughed up.”

“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” Bishop chimed in, and I shot him a scowl.

“You’re not helping.”

“Sure I am, it’s just not the kind of help you’re comfortable with.  That’s fine, we can take care of it.”

“Let me,” Carter volunteered, grabbing a hold of Vaughn’s lapel.  “I never liked this bozo.”

“Why?  What’d he ever do to you?”

“It’s not to me, it’s the way he talks to you.  The guy doesn’t have enough respect.”

Vaughn listened to the conversation with interest, his head pinging back and forth, and I asked him, “Is there some reason why you don’t respect me?”

“I respect your office and what you stand for, I just happen to have differing political views,” he replied without malice.

“Are you planning on acting on those differing views?”

“That all depends.”

Something about the way he said it made me nervous.  “On what?”

“If the right situation presents itself.”

“What would you consider the right situation?”

“One where we could seize the upper hand over humans once and for all, and step out of the shadows to take our rightful place in society.”

“Go ahead and hit him,” I muttered, laying a hand on Carter’s arm before he struck.  “Nothing too bad, just bloody him up a bit.” 

Carter’s eyes flashed with enthusiasm.  “I know how to make it look good.”

“Fine.  Mr. Vaughn, you will have no memory of this conversation, or my compulsion.  You’ll remember Carter roughing you up, and you protested your innocence.  That’s it.”

“That’s it,” he replied woodenly, and then Carter split his lip with a backhanded blow that held too much zeal for my tastes. 

Bishop guided me to the corner of the room as the smell of Vaughn’s blood clouded the air.  “Are you alright?” he asked softly.