NOT DEAD YET: A Lucy Hart, DEATHDEALER Novel (Book Two) (24 page)

I’m naked...

Okay, I’m naked in bed with Gabriel...

Damn...

The thought made her tingle all over, and then she shivered.  She pulled the sheet up to her chest and stared tensely at Gabriel as he slept.  He was so beautiful.  All that wonderful skin, those fantastic muscles... but it was his face she liked the best.  That was a face you could stare at for years and never get tired of it.  Nearly angelic, but a touch too masculine to be pretty.  From the set of his large brown eyes, to the kissable thickness of his lips, he was the best looking man she’d ever seen.

And she loved him.  She’d loved the egomaniacal, pompous... she’d loved the man from that first insult he’d dished out to her the first time they had met.  God help her, she was totally and completely lost in love with this man.

Lucy leaned over and kissed his chest again, this time letting her lips and tongue linger.  She kissed down the front of him, letting the raw scent of him overwhelm all other scents.

Gabriel stirred again, yawned and stretched at the same time, and then looked up at her, his eyes filled with the light of joy and love.  Lucy stared into his eyes and sat back up on the bed, and slowly let the sheet slip away from covering her.

Gabriel stopped breathing, his eyes turning from sudden surprise, to a dark possessiveness.  The way he was looking at her, it made her feel as if she were his property.  Which wasn’t a bad feeling at that moment in time, with her body bared naked before him. 

Enjoy it, buddy...

Lucy moved forward and pressed herself against him, falling into his luscious lips, kissing him as her bare chest caressed his.  Currents of feverish heat, of little shocks and deep hunger, coursed through Lucy with every touch of Gabriel’s skin.  His mouth tasted warm and spicy, like some sort of exotic wine.

She let her hands wander over his chest, and down his tight, smooth belly.  His breathing came more rapidly, and she liked feeling him losing control like this.   She reached lower and felt his hunger for her fulfilled in the large, hard bulge that waited for her in his shorts.

He gasped, a hoarse intake of breath, as her hand caressed and handled him through the lightweight material of his sleep shorts.

He had his eyes closed, and his mouth open in a heady mix of surprise and pleasure.  It made him look very young, and Lucy decided she like that look on him.

She leaned so that her lips barely brushed his ear when she whispered,  “Take off your pants.”

Gabriel’s eyes snapped open, and his breathing turned to hyperventilation for a moment or two.  He looked to her with a dazed and confused glaze over the features of his face.  Even his eyes had that far off look to them, as if he were daydreaming.  But then that hunger, that dark possessiveness flared in his eyes... amber fire burned there too.  That fire she had associated with Gabriel’s beast, his werewolf nature. 

It usually scared her.  But now, with him so very close, and his scent all around her, that fire made her breathless with wanting him.  It was like a bolt of lightning screaming out of the sky to strike her in the heart, in the soul, to fill her with the need to have the man before her.  Her Gabriel... her wolf.

She reached out, her hands grasping at the sides of his face so hard that it sounded like she’d slapped him, and she dragged his face to hers, kissing him so deeply that she felt like she was falling down a long, pitch black shaft... but it was a fall she wanted so desperately to take.

She pulled away from him, they both gasped for air.  Gabriel’s lips were swollen and red from the force of the kiss.

“I think I said take your pants off,” she breathed into his mouth, but didn’t let her lips touch his.  She even pulled her hands reluctantly from his face.  Her voice darkened with demand.  “That means now, Mr. Enoch.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows rose, and his nostrils flared.  He gulped, and cleared his throat.  “Whatever you say, ma’am.”

His eyes never left hers as he leaned back and raised his hips.  She watched as with a graceful shrugging of his shoulders, and a downward push of his arms—which made every muscle in his torso, arms and stomach stand out beautifully—he pushed his shorts down and kicked them off under the covers.

Lucy suddenly wanted to see him naked.  And the light weight blanket and sheet were making a nuisance of themselves.  She reached over and pulled them down, exposing Gabriel inch by inch, until she saw his naked, well muscled thighs, and the hard truth of his desire for her between them.

Lucy crawled atop him, her skin alive and tingling with every sensation of having her naked flesh pressed and sliding over Gabriel’s.  She kissed him deeply as she felt his hands venture over her body, grasping, squeezing, and finally pulling her open as he slowly pushed himself up into her.

Good god it hurt, and she was about to tell him to pull out of her, but then something inside her flared to life, like a bomb blast, sending fire through her veins and making things low inside her open, like falling through a trap door into instant pleasure.

Somewhere deep in her mind, Lucy heard a familiar voice howling in the distance.

The instant she felt hands upon her Delia knew the ancient evil had a new taunt for her.  She had resisted so far.  She may have wanted revenge upon everyone she’d known before the blood sack had magically put her in a coma, but she was no one’s slave.  She didn’t know anything about the thing that kept coming to her during the day, when she was literally dead to the world.

But she did know that anything as immensely powerful and as old as that thing seemed would not offer power to anyone without some pretty binding strings attached.  And she was a princess, the next ruler of the vampire nation—if she could just get out of this aggravating mystical sleep.  She would rule, not serve.  She would serve no one.

Not even for revenge.

But the entity had started showing her what was happening in the waking world... mostly from her oppressor’s point of view.  And she hated it.

And suddenly she opened her eyes and her once beloved Gabriel stared back at her.  He was naked with a thin sheen of sweat on his flesh.  And he was touching her.

But it wasn’t her.  She was literally feeling his hands on that blood sack.  And she felt it when he entered her.  She felt all the wicked human’s passion, the pain, and then the sudden and unexplainable ecstasy.  And she could not change what was happening.  She was trapped in this sensory overload, and all she wanted to do was rip his throat out, and to do the same to the pathetic meat sack that was imprisoning her.

It seemed to go on forever, but when it was finally over the connection was severed and she was at last free.   

A horrible incentive by the ancient evil, yet a very efficient catalyst.

“Creature,” she said as she opened her eyes, and there the ancient evil was again.  But this time it was not the immense ocean of power it usually was.  This time it was in the form of a young woman with the bluest eyes, liquid like the ocean.  Her hair was spun gold, and she was dressed in a diaphanous, sky blue gown that seemed to sparkle in the sunlight.  They were sitting under a clear blue sky, at high noon, yet Delia wasn’t afraid. 

Somehow she knew that the sunlight wouldn’t hurt her.  It was a part of the dream world she’d been imprisoned in. 

They sat there in the grass, wild flowers surrounding them, rippling in the wind like water.  Actually, all the flowers were blue, so it really did look like the ocean.  Yet they said nothing to each other.  Usually the evil spoke to her, not with words but with images.  But now it offered nothing.  It was waiting, waiting patiently for an answer.  Delia looked up through the burning tears in her eyes, into the fathomless blue eyes of this evil. 

And it was evil.  Delia could feel that so clearly.  Yet what it... what
she
wanted Delia to do, was exactly what Delia herself wanted.  She wanted vengeance against Gabriel and Lucy Hart—against all those who allowed that filthy blood sack to turn her low and keep her like that.  She swiped the tears from her face, making a noise, one that was rueful and angry, and one that sounded much like surrender. 

“Yes,” she said finally.  “I submit.”

~*~

Delia opened her eyes to the real world.  The room was dark, yet she knew the sun was out. 

How is this possible?  The sun makes all vampires die.  Not until darkness falls do vampires awaken again.  Yet there she was, awake during the light.  She rose from the bed and found the door to the room unlocked. 

There were no guards, only a human servant whom she dispatched, drinking hungrily until he was dead. 

The house she had been held captive in was a once proud but now shabby mansion.  There was dust in the air, and she found that she was the only captive.  Not that she was going to set anyone else free. 

She opened the front door and saw the light for the first time in her life.  It was so startling, so beautiful, and yet she backed away, momentarily afraid. 

Then she heard a voice, a husky, female voice, dark as black coffee—it told Delia
the light will not hurt you.
 

She moved forward, closing her eyes, walking out into the warmth of the light.  She didn’t burst into flames.  She was fine, the light did not hurt at all.  She opened her eyes and looked around.  At first she couldn’t believe she was just standing there in the sun as hundreds of blood sacks moved through the city, passing her as if she were just one of them.  She suddenly knew, could sense and practically see the path she was supposed to take. 

Like a golden glow. 

She followed it, walking through it like it was a river of air.  It felt silky and cool, and smelled of blood.  Delia licked her lips as she walked through the city.  It led her to a large building downtown, and ended at the outer wall of an alley.  She could see a marking, of waves, like a hieroglyph.  It was so bright and blue, she couldn’t believe no one else saw it.  She touched it and her hands sank through the wall.  A hologram... or a portal. 

Magics either way.  And she always mistrusted magic.  Funny how much magic had invaded on her life.  It wasn’t right.  She longed for the days, not long ago, when she battled her enemies with her might and her sword.  And now she had been reduced to crawling to whatever this thing was, this ancient evil, reaching out to this unknown thing for the power to overcome her foes.  It was humiliating, and yet she knew she had to do it.  Part of her hungered for the power promised by this thing so much that it physically hurt. 

The mere thought of being able to kill, torture, and destroy Lucy Hart and her lying, cheating wolf made her mouth water.  She’d much rather do it herself, with her own vampiric power, yet that little blood sack had so easily pushed her into a comatose oblivion—she needed more to fight her with.  She needed this for her revenge.  

She pushed through and walked into a long hallway.  The floor, walls, and ceiling were a shiny black marble, veins of gold and blue glowing lazily from the rock.  That led to a long stairway that led down, down, down into a depth that was chilled and damp.  Finally Delia came out to a huge cavern made from the same black, gold, and blue stone, but it was not smooth.  It was all craggy and rocky.

This part hadn’t been refined.  It was as it should have been from the start. 

Delia saw it in the middle of the chamber.  A hulking, rough stone arch made of the same stone.  And in the arch was a bit of the ancient evil’s rippling otherness.  She closed her eyes and thought,
I am here, as you requested
. 

She’d said requested.  She would never allow this thing to command her, even if it did grant her the power she needed.  It was a good lie to tell oneself. 

A voice spoke, low and husky, and thoroughly feminine. 
Her voice
. 

Delia blinked and found the woman from the field standing at the bottom of the three large steps that led up to the arch.  The steps were not built for humans.  They were far too big.  Her eyes shone with the blue rippling of her true self.  She smiled. 

“I’m glad you decided to come.  Did you like walking in the daylight?” 

“I’ve never...” Delia gasped, her voice was low and tinny from lack of use.  “I’ve never done that before.  To my knowledge, no vampire has either.  We die when the sun rises, and come to life again when it sets.  The few unlucky souls to not make it to shelter before the sun rises have always burned to a cinder.” 

“And yet here you are, awake and unharmed.  And you walked without so much as a sunburn through direct sunlight.  Do you now see the power I can offer you?” 

“Yes.  I see that you can deliver on all that you have promised.” 

The girl smiled.  “And more.” 

Delia asked, “But why?  Why will you do this for me?  If you have all this power, then why do you need me?  Why do you need anyone?  Why not do all this yourself?” 

“Why do you think I want any of this done?  Death and chaos is all I crave.  I do not care how it comes about.”  Delia knew in that moment, she could feel it, that it was lying to her.  “But I do like your plan.  I can see many great and terrible possibilities in it.  Great and terrible possibilities in you.”