Sins of the Undead Patriot (36 page)

“I’m on my way.” Vaihan hung up, grabbed his overcoat, keys and flew out the door, but not at the speed with which he used to move. The changes weren’t all they were cracked up to be.

* * * *

Vaihan slid his Audi into a staff parking spot around back, near the trash bins. A group of youth congregated by the side of the building, smoking marijuana. He lifted the hood of his wool coat over his head in the hope that Errol would not notice the changes in him. The garment might mask his changing scent.

What on earth could have possessed her to go there? He knocked on the rear door.

Errol opened it. “That was quick.”

Even with his stop at the Check Point Defense blockade. What kind of shady dive would she go to, if she left there?

“Dominique set her up in the meat chamber, at her request. There was no more stalling her.” He huffed. “I could smell another undead on her. Very ancient. Not one I know. And she’s high.”

He frowned. What the hell could she be thinking? Of all the rooms she could have picked, she’d chosen the most demeaning. Down the back staircase, Errol led him to the rear entrance of the room and handed over the key.

“None of my clients would touch her, given what went down with you.” His lips spread into a thin line. “If you can’t get her to leave with you, maybe her brother?”

“I’ll handle her.” Errol’s meaning was not lost on him. Having her there was bad for business if any of the patrons caught wind, literally. “Thanks.”

With a forced smile and tap to the shoulder, Errol headed back.

Vaihan turned the key, palms slick with sweat, a side effect of his more human state. The latch clicked, but not with the usual thunderous tone his zombie hearing would have picked up. He entered and closed the door behind him.

Leera hung, blindfolded, from the ceiling, hands and arms extended overhead, her feet barely touching the floor. Ringlets framed her face. Muscles and bones showed through the caramel hue of her skin. Her full breasts peaked with hard buds. The dark, coarse curls between her thighs accentuated her femininity. A goddess of seduction.

Only she could fill the hollow place in his heart.

“Hello.” Her speech was heavy and drawn out. She’d recently had more toxin.

“Shh.” He stepped closer, fingers tingling to touch her. Know her. Feel her. The way a man would. The way he now could, if only she wanted him.

With her toes, she moved her body toward him. “You like the quiet types?”

Not quite. He smiled. “That depends.”

Goose bumps covered her skin. “Vaihan.” She breathed out.

Heat rushed inside him at the way she pronounced his name. “Yes, Leera?”

She angled her head, so her ear could listen. “Am I hallucinating this?” she whispered.

He feared the very same thing. “And what
this
would you be referring to?”

“Do you come here to feed from human flesh?” She swayed in the restraints.

The mental image sparked from her words did not appeal to him. “No.”

She twisted her lips. “Do you come for the anonymous sex?”

The idea did not arouse him. “No.” If that were his thrill, why pick the one woman he had a connection–history with? “I’m here for you, Leera.”

“I must be imagining this.” She smiled.

“I’m afraid you aren’t.” He stepped back to stop himself from touching her. “I’m going to get you down and take you home with me.”

“Shit. I’m dead.” She sighed. “Peter will blame himself.”

Vaihan reached up over her head. “You are definitely not dead.” her peaked nipples brushed the material of his coat, reminding him of just how alive he was. He unhooked her.

She slumped into his arms with a moan. “You kinda smell like Vaihan.” She lifted the fabric from her eyes and gasped. “Vaihan?”

“Yes, Leera.” As he cloaked her and gathered her up to him, desire moved through his body. No matter how unpleasant the conversation, he’d call Peter to let him know where his sister was.

Chapter 45

Sunlight streamed onto Leera’s face from between the blinds. Sweat covered her skin, and the need for the toxin left her anxious. Where the hell was she? She sat up, holding a cream-colored sheet to her chest. A cushioned area was tucked along the bay window opposite the bed. Outside was a winter wonderland, with trees covered in snow and a frozen lake.

In the high-ceilinged white room, the nightstand had a clock with flashing digital numbers and a lamp. She wrapped the blanket around her and ventured toward the door.

Vaihan’s voice came from the other side.

She pressed her ear to the crack.

“She’s sleeping,” he said.

Pause.

“I don’t know.”

Pause.

“You can’t just say something like that to a person. Besides, no matter how she feels about me, I love her and would do anything for her.”

Her heart pounded. She closed her eyes. How was that possible? That couldn’t be true. He’d broken things off with her.

“My other form would have killed her. You and I both know, if I ever could have a chance with her, which I don’t, the only way would be for me to give up my immortality.”

What? Was that even possible? He would do that for her?

“Of course, I’m wounded by her carelessness. She continues to self-destruct, and I have gained no knowledge in my ten centuries of living of how to pull her from the darkness.” Footsteps drew near. “I’ve failed her.”

She tippy-toed to edge of the bed and slid onto it.

“I’ve got to go.” The door to the room opened, and she sat up. “You’re awake?” Bare-chested, wearing loose cotton pants tied with a string at his waist, he crossed his arms with the cordless phone in one hand, causing his muscles to flex.

She wanted and needed him, but how could she have him, when she’d screwed things up so badly? Not everyone deserved to be forgiven.

“Yeah, the sun.” She pointed to the window.

“Why were you at Safe Haven?” He leaned on the inside of the door frame, the muscles in his jaw tensed.

How to answer that question... “The long or the short version?”

“The nonconvoluted version.” He huffed.

She swallowed, not wanting to upset him. “Rowley freaked when I got back from my second injection. Aggressive. Demanding to know if I’d been with you sexually. He got rough with me.”

“Did he hit you?” Eyes narrowed on her, he leaned forward.

“No.” Not from lack of will, though.

“Force himself on you?” He stepped close.

She turned from him. “Not with his penis.” There was no reason for her to tell him about Gunari and Devin unless he asked. She didn’t want him to know the extent of the mess she’d gotten herself into.

“And the younger one, he wasn’t there?” He raised his voice.

So much for that. “Yes, he was.”

“And he just stood by while Rowley assaulted you?” He gritted his teeth.

Devin had stood up for her. “No. But that’s when it got hairy. Rowley pulled a gun and Devin physically stopped him to ensure my escape.” She wrapped her arms around her torso. “For all I know, his body will show up in the river.” She hated that she’d taken the trust between them and driven in a wedge. “Anyhow, I got in a cab and started talking to the driver about Z-Luv clubs, and Safe Haven seemed like the place to go. How did you know I was there?”

“The owner is a close friend.”

So that was how he’d found her. “Do you have many close friends?”

“Johann, Errol, Marty and Dominique. She’s Errol’s partner.”

One she’d met while they were dating. Three she’d met afterward. “Dominique is the young human woman with the eye patch who showed me around last night?”

“She was sixteen when an undead lured her, drugged and served her up to clients. One ate her eye while still attached. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for her. After she was rescued, she stayed with Errol on the upper floor. He runs a semirehab home for the girls who aren’t welcome at home. He gives them time to get on their feet.”

How horrible. Good to know, though, that Vaihan’s friends weren’t the type to hurt others.

“There is clothing you can wear in the closet, if you want to dress,” he said, gesturing to the paneled doors beside her.

Why had he rescued her last night? “Thank you.” He shouldn’t have cared where she was.

“We can start on breakfast for you, when you come out.” With a smile, he turned and closed the door.

Chapter 46

Everything was a mess. Vaihan sat at the Erard grand piano with its ornate, amber delicate leafing decor and as he slid his hands across the keys, Erik Satie’s
Gnossienne No.1
came to mind. His fingers began their choreographed movements. The slow, elusive beat of each grace note of the melancholy piece reflected the emptiness inside him.

As Leera rushed across the shiny oak floor, barefoot, he stopped, midkey.

She stood bathed in sun, curls caressing her face, still wrapped in the beige sheet. The silhouette of her form was visible beneath the thin material, as were her hard nipples. Pain strained the soft lines of her face.

He scooted aside on the bench and gestured with his head for her to join him.

She quickened her hesitant steps, lowered herself next to him with her back to the piano and rested her chin on his shoulder.

The rhythm of her exhaling breath brushed over the back on his neck, sending the hairs to attention. The last time such a sensation occurred, he’d yet to be undead.

“I’m sorry for all the pain and humiliation I’ve caused you,” she said. “I’m sorry that I betrayed your trust in me. I’m sorry that you had to take responsibility for my careless actions and were forced to publicly share what losing Elizabeth meant to you.” Pools of tears welled in her eyes. “I have no words in defense of my actions, of myself. Only further indictments of my actions. I thought of my need–of the void inside me being replaced with all that is you–of how your touch evoked emotions lost to me when Jean died–of how being with you replaced the emptiness corroding me from the inside out was being restored by your warmth. In those few moments when you touched me, I was your instrument–synthesizing–the composer’s, you, your feelings. I so desperately need you to love me. I so badly wanted to seal our bond...to link you to me, to force you to love me too. I was reckless and selfish. I’m so very sorry.”

“I know.” He cupped her face in his hand. “Do you trust me?”

She nodded.

He tilted her head up and angled her lips to his. Salty tears shimmered on the surface, and he licked her upper lip.

“Vaihan.” She put her hands to his chest and jerked back to the piano, causing the fall to cover the keys.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” The tension in her arms relaxed and he regained the distance between them. “You are far too good at self-inflicting wounds. I want to make you feel adored.” Vaihan crushed her mouth, forcing her lips to part. Her breath filled his mouth. How long had he wanted to taste her? To kiss her senseless? As his tongue met the heat of her, every inch of him filled with desire.

“I don’t understand. How is this possible?” She gasped. “But don’t stop.”

Warmth swirled inside him, like a twister stirring up his desperation–his longing, his joy. He tugged the overlapping sides of the sheet apart and trailed a path with his fingers to her breast, as with his other hand, he reached behind her thigh, lifting her.

She wrapped her leg around his waist. Savoring the peach flavor of her skin, he kissed along her jaw, neck and collarbone. As she arched her back, grinding her pelvis into his erection, her breasts bobbed. He circled one of her dark buds, suckled it, and when he grazed her skin with the edge of his teeth, she thrust her hips into him, rubbed her folds along the length of his erection.

No matter the urge to drive into her, he would savor this experience. He would not rush their encounter. A lifetime’s emotional need would be expressed and fulfilled in the next few hours, until he emptied himself into her.

He lifted her onto the top of the piano. Her legs dangled over the side and feet rested on the keys’ cover.

Her body making her now a fiend, craving the relief only the toxin could provide, she shook.

“
Beaute
, concentrate on my lips.” He brought her fingers to his mouth and traced the outer edge then slid her index finger in to meet his tongue. The light suckling of his mouth caused her legs to tense around him. He kissed the bruising on her inner thighs, working his way to her outer labia.

The slick coating on her folds tasted and smelled of the old him–the poison. He worked his tongue down to her opening, soaking up her juices.

She rolled her hips, angling her body for deeper exploration while spreading her legs. “Vaihan.” The raw sound of her voice delighted him.

He sailed back to her nub, flicking back and forth over the slippery bead and drank her excitement, drove into her opening with his tongue and pressed it to the edges.