Blood Submission (Deathless Night Series Book 5) Page 11

  Shea appeared on Dante’s right side to stand next to him, but he noticed she’d walked in a big circle around what he assumed was the girl he couldn’t see. Crossing her arms, she shrugged. “You’re all right. For a witch.”

  “Keira, why don’t you hang out here with Luukas for a few?” Nik suggested. “We’ll take Dante out to feed and bring him back for a proper introduction when he’s not being all crazy and shit.”

  By this time, Luukas had straightened up and had Keira folded in protectively against his chest. His eyes shifted over to his brother. “You don’t have to talk about me as if I’m not here. But yes, get him the fuck out of here until he can keep it under control.”

  “I got this,” Aiden said. “Set him loose, poppet,” he told Emma. “I think he can control himself now. All right, commander?”

  “Don’t fucking call me that,” Dante ordered.

  Aiden smiled. “See? He’s fine.”

  “Nik?” Emma asked.

  “Go ahead,” he told her, getting into position in front of Dante with his arms outstretched. “On three.”

  Dante narrowed his eyes at him, wondering what he was about.

  Behind Nikulas, he saw Luukas shove the female behind him.

  “One, two…now!” Nik shouted.

  Dante caught a flash of bright hair and a green shirt out of the corner of his eyes as he was tackled by Nikulas and forcibly taken out of the bedroom. He landed with an oof flat on his back with Nik on top of him. Aiden and Shea followed them out, and Aiden pulled the door shut behind them.

  “All right, let’s go,” Nik said.

  Three pairs of arms lifted him up and had him out in the hall before he could wiggle himself free between curses. “Put me the fuck down!”

  They got him into the stairwell and dropped him. Dante burst back up onto his feet with a snarl, trying to decide which one of them to end first.

  “Don’t kill them,” Shea said. “It really was necessary. You were about to commit suicide in there.”

  “You ain’t kidding,” Nik chimed in. “You should know, my brother isn’t quite…adjusted yet. When Emma and I found him, he was alive, but his mind was nearly completely fucking gone. Keira is the only thing that keeps him semi-sane, I think. And he’s a bit over-protective of her.”

  “Pfft. Like you don’t howl at me every time I say ‘hallo’ to Emma,” Aiden said.

  Nikulas turned incredulous eyes his way. “She was naked the last time you said ‘hallo’ to her, and you do it just to fuck with me.”

  “I needed to speak with you. How was I supposed to know she would be naked?” Aiden asked innocently.

  “Seriously?” Nik said, louder now. “We were in the fucking shower!”

  Dante listened to their familiar banter, part amused, part wound up, and part pissed off. Without a word, he turned away and stomped down the first flight of stairs.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Nikulas asked.

  “To feed,” he ground out. “I just got home. Tell Luukas I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Shea offered.

  But he spun around and put out his hand. “No.” It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him in action before. They all had at one time or another, but Dante wasn’t going after some random homeless degenerate this time, or some mouthy asshole that deserved everything he did to him.

  Well, she did tend to be mouthy. But he still didn’t want an audience, for numerous reasons. “I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

  Kicking it into vamp speed, he descended the rest of the way without giving any of them a chance to say anything else.

  Chapter 15

  Laney didn’t hear the vampire coming, but she could feel his presence humming through her blood and knew he must be near. This connection to him simultaneously disturbed her and thrilled her. Jacking upright, she scrambled to her hands and knees, backed off his bed and onto her feet, her heart pounding so loud she was sure it was going to bust right through her ribcage. As she waited to see what was in store for her now, flashes of leather adorned with spikes and blades flashed through her mind. She wrapped her arms around herself and clenched her teeth together to keep them from chattering.

  He appeared out of thin air. One moment the doorway was empty and the next he was there, filling it with his imposing size. Standing in the shadows, the black ink of the tattoos on his face and neck appeared to writhe seductively in the flickering candlelight. But his eyes held no emotion. No clues to his thoughts. Black depths she couldn’t read no matter how hard she tried.

  She blinked and he was so close she could touch him, moving so swiftly and silently that she jumped back and nearly screamed when he was suddenly right there.

  His upper lip lifted into a sneer, exposing his long fangs. “I’m thirsty,” he rasped. “I need you, Laney.”

  The fact that he’d actually called her by name threw her off guard. Though his expression was as closed off as always, his eyes—those black orbs that had appeared so bleak from across the room—were suddenly filled with a hot desperation she hadn’t seen since that first night in the desert. Stiffening her spine, she braced for his attack, but it never came.

  “Laney—” He paused, waiting.

  Was he asking her?

  “What do you expect me to say?” she whispered.

  “I need to feed,” he reiterated. He loomed closer, though she hadn’t seen him move at all, growing larger before her eyes. Or maybe it was just a trick of the candlelight.

  She backed away another step. “Then go feed on someone else,” she spit out. God, she couldn’t believe she’d actually just said that. That wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want him to hurt her, but she didn’t want him to go after anyone else, either.

  But what other choice do I have?

  “I don’t want someone else,” he argued. “I want you.”

  Tears threatened, and Laney blinked repeatedly, trying to hold them back. It was stupid to cry…again. Tears weren’t going to save her. But she couldn’t help it. She’d always been a crier. If her emotions spiked in any direction, anywhere other than a happy middle ground, she cried. And right now she was so far off the charts, she didn’t know that she’d ever go back to feeling safe again, even if she did survive this somehow. So in spite of her best efforts to not show any weakness, a few leaked out and ran down her cheeks.

  Before she could wipe them away, Dante caught one on his finger and brought it to his mouth, tasting the evidence of her fear. But then he did something she did not expect; he cupped her face gently in both hands and wiped away her remaining tears with his thumbs. “Don’t do that.” His voice was rough, his expression conflicted. He stepped in closer. Tilting her head to the side with a firm grip, he brushed her hair out of the way and exposed her pulsing artery.

  Laney squeezed her eyes shut, knowing the end was near. “Just please don’t take me into that room,” she burst out. “Please.”

  He stilled for just a second, and then she felt the warmth of his breath on her chilled skin. Bunching the front of his shirt up in her shaking hands, her body swayed toward him of its own accord, craving his touch, at complete odds with the terror rampaging through her mind. She waited for the sharp sting of his fangs to pierce her vein, and had a passing curiosity if he would be kind enough to hold her as he drained the blood from her body until she slipped out of this world and into the icy grip of death.

  The pain never came. Instead, something warm and soft touched her jaw. Then her cheek, her mouth—

  Laney’s eyes fluttered open. It was the vampire, brushing her lips softly with his own. His large body leaning over her and blocking out the light from the candles.

  Startled, she pulled away. Releasing his shirt and dropping her arms to her sides, she repeated his order from a few moments ago. “Don’t. Don’t do that.” There was no reason to sugarcoat any of this with kisses. She wished he would just get it over with.

  Little mou
se.

  His nickname for her suddenly made sense. He was the cat, or rather the panther, playing with his prey. But Laney had had enough of his games. Her nerves were stretched taught, and a scream of terror hovered on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t take much more.

  “I’m not playing,” he answered her unspoken thought. “I just—” He snapped his jaw shut, cutting off what he had been about to say. The desperation left his eyes, only to be replaced with the predatory gleam she was more accustomed to. “I just need to feed, little mouse.” The corners of his lips turned up in a sinister smile. “Go ahead and scream if you want. No one will hear you.”

  She caught a flash of fangs as he yanked her hard up against him, right before he sank them into her throat with a deep growl. He wasn’t gentle about it, and she cried out in pain as her skin tore with a sharp sting. The vampire latched onto her vein and drank deep.

  Laney swayed in his arms, quickly becoming lightheaded. He moaned and sucked harder. She could hear him swallowing, the sounds interspersed with his moans of pleasure. Lifting her up off her feet, he straightened with her held in the vice grip of his arms. Laney gritted her teeth, struggling against him, but she couldn’t break his hold no matter how hard she tried.

  Dante fell to his knees without releasing his mouth’s seal on her throat, taking her with him down to the floor next to the mattress. Her knees went to either side of his hips as he sat her on his lap, and she felt his erection thick and hard between her legs. The pressure on her throat eased off, and he lapped at the wound to close it. His lips pressed against her artery as though in fervent thanks before travelling up over her jaw to her ear.

  “What are you doing to me?” he groaned. “Laney….” He kissed his way over to her lips, probing for entrance with his tongue.

  She wanted to deny him, to beat him with her fists, and scream her rage and terror, whether anyone would hear her or not. But her fear was swiftly turning to desire as her body responded to the change in his demeanor. Her grip on him became as frenzied as his on her. Everything was wrong with this. So very, very wrong. Yet she couldn’t find it in her to deny what he was demanding. It was like every feeling and desire that ran through him was her own. His craving was her craving, not only for her blood, but for her body. Like a man starving.

  She could feel what he was feeling. And he was losing control.

  “Let me in, little mouse,” he ordered against her mouth.

  And she did. She stopped thinking, and let his fire consume her. His kisses were raw, hungry, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed him to overwhelm her. His hips rolled beneath hers, and she felt the heat of his arousal all the way through to her core, even through their clothes.

  Dante rose up onto his knees and leaned forward, laying her back on the mattress without breaking the connection between them. Laney opened her legs as he settled his weight between them, even lifting her hips to seek him out, hating having the slightest bit of space between their bodies. His heat seared her everywhere he touched, and she reveled in the feeling of his weight pressing her down into the mattress. He kissed her over and over, demanding her submission, and she gave it to him. Laney arched her body, wanting his hands on her, wanting to feel his skin against hers, moaning in frustration when she didn’t get what she wanted.

  Breaking off the kiss, he tangled his fingers in the hair on either side of her head. His eyes were feverish as they locked in on hers, his voice hoarse with need, the tattoos running down the side of his face ominous in the candlelight. “Tell me yes,” he commanded. “Tell me I can have you.”

  Laney’s attention honed in on his extended fangs. A thrill shot through her as she imagined him biting her again, only this time in the throes of passion. She tried to find a rational thought in her lust-filled brain. One that would tell her that she was insane for even contemplating having sex with him. But she couldn’t hear anything past the wild hunger pulsing through her.

  “Laney….” Her name tore from his lips. His eyes roved over her face and settled on her mouth, his features tense.

  Was she mad? “Yes,” she heard herself say.

  With a ragged inhale, he stared down at her for a long moment as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. But only for a moment. A look of triumph lit his eyes, and he growled low in his throat and took her mouth again, touching her everywhere at once, as if making up for lost time. His hands were rough as they tore at her clothes, stripping them quickly from her body. She had no more time to think about what was happening. His frenzied need hung in the air around them like a living thing as he bared her body to his heated gaze with rapid movements. He made small, satisfied noises at each new reveal, sometimes baring his fangs. But strangely enough, she didn’t feel scared. She felt desired, and absolutely alive for the first time in a long time.

  The sting of his bite lanced her nipple, and Laney cried out, arching her back in encouragement. She stared down at the top of his shaved head as he began to suckle, part of her in disbelief that this was happening, part of her thinking that he was right—if she was about to die, this was the way to do it.

  Removing his fangs, he tugged on her nipple, running his tongue over the wounds, then made his way down her body to pull off her sneakers and unfasten her jeans. Something pricked at Laney’s brain, something she should be worried about other than what she was currently doing. But as she lay there with her shirt and bra on the other side of the room alongside his black tee, she couldn’t focus on anything except the pulses of desire in her core that desperately needed to be eased.

  Her jeans and underwear quickly joined the pile of clothes, yet she didn’t feel the least bit self-conscious. Laney rubbed her thighs together, trying to ease the ache between them, her hands fisted in the blanket beneath her. The vampire rose up and sat back on his haunches to admire the sight before him. One hand reached out, and she felt the butterfly touch of his fingers on her belly.

  His breath caught in his throat. Black eyes, churning with too many emotions to name, rose to meet hers. “You have a child,” he hissed.

  She has a child.

  Dante traced the pale stripes on her lower belly as long forgotten memories of his human life doused the flames of his desire and stole his breath. The skin had been stretched beyond redemption; hanging loosely between her hipbones where it hadn’t quite shrunk back to normal after the birth. It wasn’t ugly to him. Quite the opposite. This evidence of motherhood tore at his soul.

  It was beautiful. And heartbreaking.

  Now he knew why she carried that book with her. It was a children’s book. “Where is the child?”

  Laney was quiet. Too quiet. Tearing his eyes from the lines on her stomach and the dark, soft curls covering her woman’s mound, he searched her expression, but she turned her head away and refused to look at him.

  “Where is the child?” he demanded, louder now. He tried to probe her mind, found it impossible. Her shields were up, and she hadn’t fed from him since the night before. The thought that he had torn a mother away from her child ripped away at what little was left of his conscience. It disoriented him, making it hard for him to focus.

  Laney reached out blindly for the blanket and covered her nudeness as she scrambled out from underneath him. He felt her disappearing even though she was still right in front of him, and he automatically reached out to try to re-establish the connection between them. She shrunk away. “Laney, where is the fucking child?” He shouldn’t give two shits about the possible existence of another human. It shouldn’t matter. But he had to know. Taking her by the shoulders, he shook her hard enough to set her teeth knocking together. “Answer me!”

  “He’s dead,” she wailed, the words ending on a keening cry. Clutching the blanket to her chest with one hand, she covered her face with the other and began to sob. Heart wrenching sounds that tore at his soul. When she could speak again, her voice was strained and watered down with her tears. “My son is dead.” She paused, pressing a hand over her
mouth to stifle a sob. “Because I killed him. I killed him because he wouldn’t be quiet.” Tear-filled eyes half-crazed with grief skittered about in the gloom. “He was just a baby.” This last was spoken so quietly, he barely heard her. Or maybe it was because of the ringing in his ears.

  Dante stared at the female in front of him. Unable to link the self-professed murderer in front of him with the strong, but kind woman he’d observed over the last few days.

  He, himself, was a killer, yes. And he took worthless human lives with elation. He could also spot others with a soul just as black as his from a mile away. Laney was not one of those people. She was not like him. She was good. He knew this in the deepest part of his soul. “No.” He denied what she had just said, though he sensed she was speaking the truth. “You wouldn’t do something like that. You must be mistaken.”

  She raised swollen, red eyes. They were surprisingly direct as she spoke the next words. “I killed my own child.” Her mouth twisted in disgust. “I didn’t mean to do it, but I still did it. So the intent or lack thereof doesn’t really matter, does it?”

  She was looking to him for an answer that he wasn’t able to give. “The book belonged to your son.”

  She didn’t answer him. She didn’t need to. It wasn’t a question.

  “What happened?” His curiosity surprised him. He’d never, ever before cared about what was going on in the lives of his current victims, past or present. But he found himself wanting to know everything about this female.

  No. Not wanting to know. Needing to know.

  Her shoulders sagged in defeat, and her expression was so forlorn he wanted to gather her up in his arms again and kiss her until she was able to think of nothing else but him. When she spoke, her voice was robotic. “He was only a few months old, and something was wrong. He wouldn’t stop crying.” She took a shaky breath. “I hadn’t slept for days. I was so tired. I just wanted him to be quiet for a few hours so I could sleep.” Her voice faded into a ragged whisper.