Bloody Kisses (17 page)

“Alec, I…ah…”

He kissed her to stop her from talking. There weren’t words for this. His cock was so hard he thought he might explode. Over and over, his tongue danced in her mouth. Her fangs were sharp and he let himself get cut on them because it made him feel slightly on edge to do so. He wanted to be out of control with her.

She reached between them, taking his cock in her hand. Alec saw stars. He reared back. “No, I’ll come if you do that. I want in you.”

With a nod, she scooted back a bit, spreading her legs. “This right?”

He grinned. She was all his. He was going to show her so much pleasure. “Let me take care of you, sweetness.”

Her smile was of female satisfaction. “Sometimes I won’t be sweet.”

He bit her shoulder. “You’ll always be sweet to me.”

Alec pushed inside of her gently. She was tight—amazingly so. For one moment, he lost himself in the warmth of Essence. For a split second, he felt almost human. And then she lifted her hips to meet his. He groaned. This was going to be over incredibly fast.

She bit down on her lip with her fangs, drawing blood. He licked it up fast. “I wanted this. I thought I’d never have it.”

Her words spurred him on. They moved fast and hard. He should have taken time with her, but she didn’t seem to care. Over and over, their bodies danced together. He reached between them finding her clit again. This was her first time. Her body was going to need a little extra stimulation.

She gasped a second before her insides gripped him like a vise. Essence came, hard. It was something to behold—her first orgasm while he was inside of her. He couldn’t hold back. With a roar, he came, his fangs descending until he bit her neck. She’d be healed in minutes, but for a moment, he could see his mark on her.

Essence was his woman. Forever.

* * *

D
awn rapidly approached
. She’d known this would happen. The light would come and she would have to sleep through the daytime. She stared at the bed. The white sheets looked like a coffin, which was ridiculous. She wasn’t dying. She would simply not be able to be awake during the day.

Essence rubbed the back of her neck.

She hated the idea of being dead. That’s really what it would come down to. She would go to sleep and be dead. What if she didn’t wake up with the dawn?

Cinnamon wafted through the room before Alec answered. “Are you planning on sleeping in here?”

“Where else should I?”

He sucked in a breath. “In my room. With me. Of course, it’s fine, whatever you want.”

She held out her hand. Nothing sounded better to her ever. If she went into the great darkness, she wouldn’t go alone. Of course, he had centuries of not dying in his sleep…

Alec took her fingers and laced them with his own. “What are you afraid of? Your carnation scent is off.”

“My what?”

He grinned in the way that made her want to both pinch him and kiss him. “You smell like carnations. Purple ones. You’ll see it now, when next you smell flowers. They do smell differently based on scent. So, tell me. What are you afraid of?”

“You smell of cinnamon.”

Alec snorted. “That’s not manly. I’m not agreeing to that.”

“Not exactly something you can agree or disagree to and…”

He placed a finger over her mouth. “Stop diverting. We have little time ‘til the sun knocks us out. What are you afraid of?”

“Lying dead and not waking up.”

When he moved his finger, it was only to replace it with his sweet mouth. He gave her the gentlest of kisses. “You’re going to live forever, and always with me.”

When she opened her eyes the next morning, laying against his body, she finally believed he was right. But damn, was she hungry.

For blood. And sex.

In that order.

A
s a teenager
, I would hide in my room to read my favorite romance novels when I was supposed to be doing my homework. I hope, these days, that my parents think it was worth it.

I am the mother of three adorable boys and I am fortunate to be married to my best friend. I live in Austin Texas where I am determined to eat all the barbecue in town.

I am in love with science fiction, fantasy, and the paranormal and try to use all of these elements in my writing. I've been told I'm a little bloodthirsty so I hope that when you read my work you'll enjoy the action packed ride that always ends in romance. I love to write series because I love to see characters develop over time and it always makes me happy to see my favorite characters make guest appearances in other books.

In my world anything is possible, anything can happen, and you should suspect that it will.

• Rebecca Royce
  

K
idnapped
By Her Husbands

Rescued By Their Wife

Crashing into Destiny

H
aunted Redemption

N
o one had seen
her stow the heart scarab in her cuff. Strands of hair clung to the fine sheen of sweat that coated her face as Olive Prentiss trekked out of the tomb. She was the last one to leave the dig site. The few minutes she had been left alone had given her the opportunity to reach below a few layers of the linen wrapping. She’d offered a silent apology before she carefully took the relic.

The headlamp illuminated the hard-carved stone passageway that would lead her back to the burning light of the sun and hot desert sand.

Her breathing increased as she recalled the conversation she’d had with her father just days before.

* * *

“
O
live
, I’m in trouble.” There was a slight quiver in Casper Prentiss’s voice.

“What’s happened now, Dad?”

“Well, that Renoir I sold last year? Turns out it was a forgery.”

“That’s what you have insurance for.”

“You don’t understand.”

Her stomach flip-flopped. “What don’t I understand?”

Her father sighed on the other end of the phone. “I knew it was fake.”

“Daddy...”

“I needed the money.”

“Why are you telling me this?” She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice.

“The man who bought it has offered me a way to keep it quiet.”

“By keeping it quiet you mean keeping you out of jail?”

“Well, yes.”

“Okay and what does this have to do with me?”

“The collector is Xavier Wells.”

“Jesus Christ. Please tell me you’re joking.”
Fuck
. Xavier Wells was currently signing Olive’s paycheck. He had fully funded the dig in Alexandria. Not only had her father done something illegal and immoral, but his misdeed was about to impact a dig she was literally neck deep in.

“Wait, Olive, he has a suggestion to make this right.”

“You cheated someone out of a lot of money, Dad. The only way to make that right is to give him his money back.”

“I would but I can’t, I don’t have four million dollars. But listen to me for a minute.”

“Go on.” Olive shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. There was no staving off the sudden headache.

“He wants something from this dig.”

“Dad...no.” Stealing from a dig site was a cardinal sin the archeology world.

“Just a small relic. No one will miss it. He wants the heart scarab of Amenken.”

* * *

N
ow the ceremonial
beetle was in her possession and she could almost feel it burning through her sleeve. She cursed under her breath. Olive hadn’t spent ten years getting her Ph.D. to become a tomb raider. She loved her father but she hated him for putting her in the position where she had to ignore her moral compass. This would be the first and last time she compromised her integrity.

The cab ride back to the hotel passed in silence; the driver had barely given her a second glance. Olive waited until she was safely in her room to let the scarab fall from her sleeve. It was small enough to fit in her palm. She didn’t really understand why Xavier wanted to possess something he would have to keep a secret. He’d never be able to display it.

While slipping off her shoes, she dialed her father’s number. As expected, the call went to voicemail. His cheery prompt requested her to leave a message and that he’d get back to her at his most early convenience.

“Call me.” There was no way she’d leave a detailed voicemail, but he would know by the tone of her voice that his request had been fulfilled.

The heart scarab had been intricately carved from obsidian, and tiny flecks of gold gave the oval object a slight sparkle in the lamplight. Olive traced her finger over the perfect shape of the wings and the beetle’s head. Great care and effort were put into the gifts that would travel into the afterlife with the dead; that made it all the more deplorable that she’d taken it.

The bottom of the scarab bore hieroglyphs, a message from The Book of the Dead instructing the deceased not to confess to any wrongdoing when facing the weighing of the heart ceremony. The ancient Egyptians believed that knowledge of their doings, both good and bad, were stored in the heart after death. The amulet was intended to weigh heavy on the chest and keep the organ silent during judgment by the tribunal of gods, particularly Osiris; it was also a symbol of resurrection. Despite her father’s belief that it was a
small relic
, it was significant.

The superstitions surrounding the burial and mummification undertaking were what had drawn Olive into archeology; the history and mysticism kept her interested. Taking such a precious and important relic weighed heavily on her conscience, and went against the respect she had for the process. Although the fallacies had never taken root with her, the person buried there had believed in them and desecrating someone’s sacred belief didn’t feel right.

Olive studied the beetle for a few minutes before she stowed it inside a tissue in the top drawer of her nightstand. The heart scarab seemed less valuable than the other grave goods. There had been gold jewelry and animals carved of jade and feldspar. Perfectly glazed pottery was scattered about the tomb. To be honest, all the items were priceless. Why had Wells asked for that one in particular?

The long hot shower did wonders for the sticky grime on her skin, but she still felt dirty when she slipped between the sheets. She would keep the scarab safe for the next two days until Xavier Wells arrived in Egypt.

Sleep came easily due to sheer exhaustion from the heat and long hours in the dark, but the slumber wasn’t peaceful. Olive dreamed of men dressed in ancient battle gear. White linen against dark skin. She’d been stripped naked and laid out on a stone table, and the people babbled in a dead language as they formed a circle around her. Dark kohl lined their eyes as they all stared at her in judgment.

The green face of Osiris appeared over her as if he were standing on a tall stool. His eyes bore the same kohl liner as the others, and his beard was wrapped in black ribbon. Despite his strange complexion, he was beautiful with flawless skin and bright eyes.

Next to Osiris, the long, dark snout of a jackal loomed. Blood dripped from the still-beating heart Anubis held. Olive was being subjected to the weighing of the heart ceremony and hers was heavier than a brick.

Tears burned her eyes, but she remained quiet under the steady gazes of the judge and the jury. Admitting what she’d done would result in harsh punishment. The Egyptian gods weren’t known for their mercy.

A loud ringing echoed in the chamber and bounced off the stone walls. Anubis looked over his shoulder and squeezed the heart so that a drop of blood landed on Olive’s chest. She watched as a green beetle crawled over her breast. The ringing grew louder and she snapped open her eyes. Her breathing was labored and she touched her chest, grateful to feel the soft cotton of her pajamas. After a moment, she realized the ringing was her phone on the nightstand. She picked it up and saw her dad’s face on the screen.

“Hello.” Olive’s mouth was dry and she licked her lips.

“Hello, darling.” Casper Prentiss had a voice as smooth as silk. Olive suspected it was that voice and his good looks that helped him sell million dollar paintings to elderly women with money to burn. Her father was an opportunist. In light of the current predicament, she wondered how many forgeries he’d gotten away with selling. Had a shady deal funded her college education? That was a question she didn’t want to know the answer to.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m fine.”

“You sound winded.”

“I was just startled from sleep, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Olive’s digital clock told her it was after nine in the morning. “It’s okay. I needed to get up anyway.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stretched her back.

“So...”

“We’re all good.”

A breathy sigh of relief came through the line. “Thank you.”

Olive stayed silent.

“Xavier will be there tomorrow night. There will be a gala. I’ll text you the address and where to meet him.”

“Okay.” The last thing she wanted to do was attend a god-damned party, but she wanted this nightmare to end as soon as possible, and the sooner she could hand off the heart scarab, the sooner she could walk away and get back to her dig.