Last Vamp Standing (23 page)

“I think that’s the thing I like about you most.” Ariana looked over her shoulder and smiled, stopping his heart completely. “You’re different from everyone else I’ve ever met.”

“That’s an understatement.” As the wall churned to life, folding back slowly, Dante shoved the two sides apart.

“You look at me differently, too,” she said, laughing at his eagerness and the wall’s grinding protest. “Like you really see me instead of the healing I can do for you.”

“If you let me, I’d like to see a lot more of you.”

Dante pulled Ariana into his arms. She was warm. Supple. Softening against his body. Her melting cocoa eyes bore into him, through the black-on-black clothes she’d chosen for him and the tanned skin he’d never been comfortable wearing. He couldn’t wait to ditch the former and the corset that clung to her body like second skin.

Using both hands, Dante lifted her into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. He could hear the sound of leather sliding as her boots crossed at the small of his back. The sound of her skirt hiking as it fell open around him, and the promising moan falling from her lips.

He did a quick gut check, listening closely for the demonic racket he’d become so accustomed to hearing. His thoughts remained his own.

Taking full advantage of the quiet, Dante kissed her hard, plunging his tongue past her lips. He opened her mouth wide and swept his tongue inside, rolling it along hers as he carried her into her suite.

She matched his fervor, nipping at his lips, tunneling her fingers through his hair. As their kiss deepened and flashes of heat rushed between them, she became possessive, hungry, consuming him with her mouth and her hands.

“There,” she ordered against his mouth, pointing through the living room.

He followed her command, blind to where he was going, to the things he stumbled over, blind to anything but the softness of Ariana’s lips and the way her kiss seemed to erase the anxious feeling that remained coiled inside him.

Through the only door on the right, Dante found the bed. Ariana was beneath him in a heartbeat. Sliding out of her skirt, breathless and wanting, clawing at his back with greedy hands. He kicked out of his boots, shuffled off his pants, and tore the shirt from his body.

“Maybe we should . . .” She sucked in a breath as he settled over her, skin to skin, flesh to scorching flesh. “ . . . talk first before we . . . oh God—” Her voice hiccupped, cutting off as his shaft poised at her center.

Hesitating, Dante braced himself on his hands. Over her. Looking down upon her radiantly naked body. Her skin was a flawless canvas of the purest shade of porcelain—save for the reddish half-moon brand on her arm—with plump, round breasts and delicate pink nipples that begged to be touched and licked and teased. Her waist was small and delicate, but her stomach was tight with tiny ridges of muscle. She was exquisite, heart-stopping perfection splayed out before him.

Waves of warmth drenched his tip, dizzying him so that for a split, euphoric moment he didn’t know whether he was below her, above her, or hovering near the ceiling.

He pulled back as the uncertainty of Ariana’s words settled over him like a wet cloak. “Ariana . . .” He tasted the words before he spoke them; they were fresh, needing to be said. “ . . . are you a virgin?”

“No.” She trembled beneath him, her fingers tracing playful lines over the smoke-like marking on his neck. “Are you?”

Rough bursts of laughter bubbled out of him. “No. I’m not.”

He swallowed hard, shoving the vile truth back down into his gut. Though he knew he wouldn’t hurt Ariana, not now, not when his voices were nothing more than a summer breeze blowing against his skull, if she didn’t want this, he didn’t want this.

“If you want me to stop, if there’s something you want to say, say it.” He brushed his thumb over the vein on her neck, felt it flutter beneath his finger like a trapped butterfly. His fangs hummed, buzzing with a foreign sensation—the urge to drink her blood. But he didn’t like the taste of the red sludge . . . not really. “As much as it would kill me to stop now, we don’t have to do this.”

She shifted her hips beneath him. Just enough. A little shimmy that made his cock jump against her most sensitive flesh. His breath hammered out of him as his ironclad restraint weathered, her innocent seduction taking its toll.

“Dante, I’ve wanted this since the first moment I saw you.” She pressed him down, flush against her. “I’ve wanted you.”

“You have me.”

He crushed his mouth to hers. Sheathed himself inside her, long and deep, groaning as they met hip to hip. She was perfection. Sweet, blissful perfection. He pushed inside her again, drenching himself to the hilt.

Between the intoxicating fragrance of her arousal blooming in the air around them and the silkiness of her skin, Dante’s muscles pulled tight. From his toes to his abs to his neck. Pressure was building. Concentrating and gathering at the base of his spine.

The energy spiraling through his body was his own. He knew it like he knew his cock was swelling with its own hot release. Electric currents of lust hit hard, jolting surges of power through his hips as he pushed deeper inside. Ariana cried out as if she could feel the swell of energy cresting within him. She scratched her nails into his back, rolling and bucking and writhing beneath him.

As their bodies moved as one, sliding skin against skin, Dante plunged into her with relentless need, desperate to reach the crest that had always been out of reach.

Soft tugs of her core began to clench around him. He stilled and captured her heavy-lidded gaze. No energy he’d ever pulled from another had ever felt like this. This—
she
—was different. What was happening between them was more than sex. Beyond a transfer of energy.

Intimacy.

Ariana was what he’d been missing all along. The pristine yin to his dingy-ass yang. He couldn’t live without her. The realization snapped something in his middle, quick and stinging like a rubber band.

“Don’t stop,” she breathed as her hips continued to churn and roll beneath him.

Time had slowed to a crawl. He could watch pleasure ripple across her face forever. Every second. Every writhing movement, every flex of her long, slender muscles. But his own body went rigid, his muscles seizing into knots, his own pleasure threatening to spill over.

“I can’t fight it anymore,” he said, fully aware he was talking as much to himself as he was to her. He’d never unleashed the clench in his gut. Never allowed himself to take his own pleasure with a woman. “I don’t want to fight it with you.”

“Then don’t.” She arched back, revealing the gentle curve of her neck, rocking her hips, taking more, milking every last inch of him.

He ravished her lips, kneaded her breasts, and watched in awe as her body bucked and trembled when her orgasm took her over. She moaned breathless and deep with each hard clench of her core. It spurred him on, driving him closer to the peak he so desperately yearned for.

As he drove into her one last time, he held painfully taut. The crest rose up, building, holding. And when his release finally hit, he cried her name, riding the line between pleasure and pain.

His breath sobbed and his body went limp as he melted over her in total, blissful exhaustion.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“I
COULD STAY
here forever,” he mumbled as he kissed her neck. “Right here.”

Ariana couldn’t agree more. Dante’s heartbeat was strong, true, pounding so fiercely that it rumbled through her chest as if it was her own.

“Yeah, but if I can’t breathe, what good am I to you then?” she said.

He unsheathed his shaft from her core, leaving her feeling oddly cold and hollow without him. Lifting most of his weight off her, Dante kissed her forehead, her nose, then slowly made his way down to her lips. “You are more than good. You are perfection. An angel . . .”

Ariana’s heart clenched around his words.

“An angel with a thousand questions,” he finished, kissing her with so much tenderness, she thought her heart might burst. He lay beside her then, drawing her into the nook between his arm and chest.

“What makes you think you know what’s going on in my head?” She gazed up at the strong lines of his face, the hardness of his jaw, the plushness of lips. He really was handsome, wasn’t he? Easily the most striking man she’d ever laid eyes on.

“I can see the curiosity burning in your eyes, even now. Don’t you ever give your mind a rest?”

“Sure.” Questions about what Echo had said, about how Dante fed, pushed to the forefront of her mind. “It gets plenty of rest when I’m sleeping.”

“Wish I could,” Dante said, then seemed to catch himself.

“What do you mean? You haven’t been able to sleep lately or . . .
ever
?”

He shook his head and spoke softly. “I haven’t slept a day in fifty years, minus the two days I was knocked out when Pike did me dirty.”

She digested his words quickly. If lack of sleep was Dante’s only secret, they were treading on good, solid ground.

“What else?” she asked, traipsing a finger over the marking on his side. Had he figured out what the mark was and why it miraculously appeared on his skin after their earlier encounter?

“Are you thirsty?” he asked simply. “I can grab something from the kitchen.”

Another day, another defense mechanism. He’d tried avoidance, anger, and now complete and utter denial that she’d even asked a question. She wasn’t letting him get away that easy.

“No, I’ve got a bottle in—shit.” She slapped her forehead. “I left it at the cemetery. Damn it, I shouldn’t have let Echo distract me like that.” Which reminded her—she still needed to run by the library. And she needed to find a way to breach the subject of Andre Cornelison and Dante’s possible paternity.

“I don’t think anyone’s going to steal an Alvambra bottle. We can grab it later, or a new one if you want it fresh.”

Maybe she’d wait until then. Until they were in the cemetery and Dante could see the tombstone with his own eyes.

He slipped out of bed and padded into the kitchen before she could catch him. Ariana heard him peel back the fridge door and pour something into two glasses. “What else do you want to know?” he said, striding back into the room and handing her the fuller of the two glasses.

He’d poured a fresh glass of O—her favorite. She took the glass and eyed him carefully. Once she dragged her gaze away from the sweat glistening off his chiseled and very naked body, she focused on the lines of his face. It seemed, no matter how crazy, like his entire demeanor had changed over the course of a few minutes.

He looked relaxed. She’d never seen the look on him until this moment. Despite how much she liked the hard edge he sported before, it was a pleasant change.

But no one shifted from tight-lipped to open book that easily. She wasn’t buying it.

“Why are you suddenly so willing to open up and talk like it’s no big deal? You clammed up in the library, pushed me away on my balcony, and now you’re just going to talk about the stuff that’s bothering you? Why now?”

“Here’s the thing.” He sat beside her on the bed and took a hard swallow of his own drink. If Ariana didn’t know better, she’d say he despised the stuff and was forcing it down for show. “I don’t think I can hold back the answers from you anymore. At least not after knowing what I know now.”

“Which is?” She’d wiggle the truth out of him one way or another.

“I’m part-Watcher, part-vampire. It explains why I can walk during the day, why I’ve never slept, why I have fangs, how I can do some of the things I can, but—”

“Not the teleporting. Unless you’re an elder, which you’re clearly not.”

“Right.” Another hard drink, another pucker of distaste pushing out his lips.

“You don’t have to drink this, you know,” she said, clinking her glass against his. “If you don’t like it. There are other varieties stocked in there.”

Unless Echo was right, and he fed on something entirely different.

“You’re right, there is more.” Dante set down his glass on the bedside table and turned to face her. “I don’t really know how to say this. I guess the only way is to shoot it straight, right?” He exhaled heavily, as if he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I—well, Watchers in general, feed off of sexual energy and adrenaline.”

“You feed off . . .” She couldn’t repeat the words. Blood drained from her face, making her woozy. “. . . off what?”

She had to hear it again. From his lips.

“Ariana, I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I’ve tried resisting the urges, but I’ve never made it long. In fact, resisting them seems to make things worse. I’ve blacked out and woken up in pools of blood, unsure where I am or what I’ve done.”

“How is this possible?” Shivers blanketed her arms.

“Adrenaline doesn’t satiate my hunger as much as sexual energy does. My body grows accustomed to the adrenaline. Each time I need a bigger hit, a stronger fix. After all the fights I’ve been in, I’ve got to be on the verge of death for my body to release any trickle of the stuff. But at least it’s
my
energy I’m feeding from. When I feed off sexual energy, it’s the woman’s energy I’m taking.”

“Oh God . . .”

“I’ve never meant to hurt anyone, and I’ve never claimed to be anything I’m not.” He took her hand, pleading with her through shadowed eyes she couldn’t read. “I feed off those things like you feed off blood. There’s nothing I can do to change my feeding habits, though believe me, I would if I could.”

Ariana bit her lip, thinking, letting the words settle. If Dante was a Watcher like Echo, what he said explained Echo’s nymph addiction and what he was trying to warn her about Dante. Still, if she could feed him with her body, nourish him with the sexual energy flowing through her, what was so wrong about that? Vampires offered their vein to their mates all the time.

A warm flush crept to Ariana’s cheeks merely thinking about how she sank her fangs into Dante’s neck on the balcony. The way his blood had warmed her, tingling past her lips, filling every part of her.

She brushed her thumb over his jaw, stopping on the backside to squelch the clenching there. “If you need to feed . . . you can feed from me.”

“You don’t understand,” he said, horror washing over him, sinking his cheekbones. “When I feed, I pull the energy from your soul. I deplete whatever you have stored. If you’re dark and evil with vices galore, I take some of that and leave you purer than I found you.” He stroked her cheek, chilling her. “If you’re good and decent and innocent, I take that just the same. I’ll taint the purity of your soul, Ariana. I can’t feed from you. I won’t.”

“But you did,” she said, realization crashing over her. “You didn’t stop what happened between us. Did you just . . .”

She couldn’t finish. Why wouldn’t Dante have said something before he slept with her?

Putting her hand to her heart, Ariana tried to feel for something missing. Some evil creeping into her soul, tainting her spirit. Strangely, she felt fine. Warm and good. Would she know when it happened? Would she notice a change right away?

“I’ve seen what my feeding can do, and I promised myself I’d never do that to another pure soul again.” His voice deepened, turning grave. “That’s why I’ve been trying to stay away from you, but I’ve done a piss poor job of it. That’s why I’ve been hot and cold and everything in between. The only reason I’m able to be with you now is because I’ve got juice flowing through me that’s satiating my hunger. You have to know that I would never hurt you that way.” As his hand cupped her chin, he shook her gently. “I’d never, ever hurt you.”

“I know that.” Deep down in her bones, she knew Dante spoke the truth. She didn’t need to see the regret in his eyes or feel the warmth of his hands to know it. She just did. “What happened before? To the pure soul you pulled from?”

He moved off the bed and paced slowly around the foot. And as a draft of icy cold air blew through the room, Ariana drew her knees to her chest and tugged the sheets to cover her.

“During my transition,” he said, gazing far off, “when I realized I had vampire blood, I thought life would be difficult, but not impossible. There were vampire rehabilitation centers nearby, and I had a cousin that transitioned not long before me. But I hungered for something other than blood. It took me passing out on the streets, nearly dying of starvation, for me to realize what that was. I was a freak among freaks. Shunned from vamp society for being different. I moved a lot from place to place, never making friends, never rooting too deep. Who’d want to be friends with someone who seemingly picked fights for the hell of it and relished one-night stands so no one got too close?”

He faced her then, the color of his lips strained white. She wanted to kiss the white away, warm his lips back to the supple pink she’d feasted on before.

“I separated myself,” he said, his tone flattening out. “I fed on evil and sucked the sin from people’s souls. It sickened me. Day in and day out, the same routine. I’d feed off their filth, absorb their energy into my own soul and witness their sin, their crimes, their abuse as it passed from their body to mine. But then I met Sway, the last vamp who held my heart in her hands. When I fed from her the first time I didn’t pick up anything. I thought something had gone wrong.”

He stopped, standing so still, Ariana thought he wasn’t going to go on.

“It’s all right, Dante.” Sheets clung to her body as she slid off the bed and kneeled in front of him. She clutched them to her chest, wishing he’d clutch her the same way. Hold onto her as he told the story so she could heal the pain inside him. “You can’t help what you’ve done in the past.”

“I killed her,” he blurted. “I fed from every good corner of Sway’s soul. I emptied her out until there was nothing left but evil. On Christmas morning I found her draining elderly in a nursing home. She drained them dry. By the time I’d gotten there she’d killed nearly all of them. Because of me, of what I’d pulled from her.”

“You didn’t know what you were doing or what was happening when you fed. If you had known I’m sure you would have done things differently. I can see how much you regret what happened, but you can’t hold the blame like a guillotine over your neck. You didn’t kill her, Dante.”

He looked away, his gaze settling on something in the living room. “Not that day. But the day I found her going back for more, I took matters into my own hands. I drained her as she drained the others. It was the only way the killings were going to end. She’d told me that was the way she wanted to go.” He met Ariana’s gaze, heating her to the core. “Being drained by someone she loved.”

“It’s the way I’d want to go,” she said, cupping his face in her hands. “You did the right thing. The only thing you could do.”

“I could’ve stayed away from her completely. I could’ve been stronger.” He brought his lips down on hers. “I could be stronger now.”

“If you think staying away from me will show some sort of strength,” she said, taking a leap, “I don’t care if you’re ever strong again.”

He didn’t laugh. “You don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“I don’t want you to separate yourself from me anymore.” Her heartbeat slowed to a murmur. “I don’t want you to be alone in this world any more than I want to be. I’ve found something in you that I thought I’d never find. You understand me, my desire to be independent and stand on my own feet.”

“And I understand your desire to be taken care of, comforted under the wing of someone who can protect you.”

“Whatever is flowing through you now, allowing us to be together, can flow through you tomorrow and the next day and the rest of our lives,” she said. “If you want it to.”

“Ariana, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for someone to say that to me. How long I’ve waited for you to come into my life.” His shoulders seemed to droop, though they were every bit as sturdy and massive as they were before. “I can only stay on the drink today, maybe tonight, but even that’s pushing it.”

“Why?”

“It comes from a plant called Nightshade that grows outside of Black Moon’s walls.”

Ariana nodded. “I know the flower. It grows on the far side of the cemetery. Do the rest of the Watchers drink it, or is it just you?”

“I think all Watchers drink it, or at least they’re supposed to. They’re harvesting it somewhere in the forest, more than what you probably have growing beyond the cemetery.”

“Then why can’t you drink it and feed off of that instead of—”

“You?” he finished with a grimace. “Because it weakens me and lessens my abilities.”

“You seemed to scale the haven wall and hurdle my balcony easily enough.”

“It drained me more than I thought it would . . . and I had damned good motivation.” Dante’s arms coiled behind Ariana’s back and he dragged her close, into the warmth of his embrace. “The point is, when Savage comes I’ll be useless. That can’t and won’t happen. I won’t leave you to the wolves while I sit idly by, tipping back a Nightshade smoothie.”

“You’re not the only one fighting for Black Moon, not anymore. Slade and Ruan and the vamps they brought with them will fight,” she said. “Besides, it’s not like I’m helpless. There are a lot of things I can do that you don’t even know about yet.”

She meant sexually, but any trace of a smile that had curled the corners of his lips faltered.

“The night I met you in the black market,” he said, stroking his hands up and down her back. “Juan Carlos announced you as a virgin . . .”