Born to Bite (19 page)

“Eshe,” he groaned. She was killing him here.

Her head lifted slowly then and she eased her eyes open to smile at him sleepily, and whispered, “Hi.”

That was all it took. Little Armand sprang to full attention between them and big Armand found himself unable to resist kissing her. The moment his mouth covered hers he was lost, and Eshe with him. Their hands began to move, finding every pleasure point, and Eshe shifted in his lap, rubbing herself against him even as her breasts slid across his chest. Armand was bombarded by a double assault, his own pleasure as her wet, hot core slid across his shaft, and hers as well at that, plus little pings of added pleasure as his chest hairs tickled across her nipples in multiple tiny caresses.

Armand groaned into her mouth and caught her hips to press her more firmly against himself, then when she took over the action, raised his hands to slide them between them and catch her breasts in a fuller caress. He toyed and tugged at her nipples briefly, his tongue battling with hers in the kiss, but neither of them had much fortitude for putting off what they were heading for. He was relieved when she raised herself up slightly, allowing cool air to brush across his heated erection, and even more relieved when she lowered herself onto it properly, taking him inside herself.

Afraid he might bite her tongue in his excitement, Armand broke their kiss and quickly shifted his mouth to her neck as she closed over him. Big mistake, he realized a moment later as she raised and lowered herself again and he felt his fangs pushing outward. But it was too late, his fangs were piercing her skin and she raised a hand to cup his head, giving him silent permission as she continued to ride him.

“Yes,” she gasped, as this new pleasure was added to the others and then they both screamed and slipped into unconsciousness again.

Ten

Armand woke to Eshe cuddled warm against him
again, and his first thought was that she was the hottest woman he’d ever met. And not just in a sexy way. She was burning up this time, almost feverish, he thought, roasting him with her body temperature. That roused concern in him and brought him fully awake to find that it wasn’t Eshe that was so hot. They were both roasting. The shed was on fire.

Cursing, he shook Eshe, but she didn’t even stir. He recalled biting her then and cursed himself as he shook her again, more violently, but she was completely out of it still in the dead faint that had followed their passion. It seemed it was up to him to get them out of there. Cursing himself now, he shifted out from beneath her and set her to lie on the couch as he got to his feet and glanced around to take in the situation. It didn’t take more than a glance to realize they were in serious trouble. The shed was fully alight, the walls and ceiling nothing but waterfalls of flame. By his guess they had only moments before the whole building collapsed on top of them and then they would be toast.

Turning back to the couch, he picked up Eshe, hefting her over his shoulder with little effort. He hurried to the door with her and pushed at it, wincing as the flames bit into his arm. He forgot the pain, however, when the door didn’t give. They were locked inside. Armand stared at the door blankly at that realization. He hadn’t locked it. It didn’t even have a lock as far as he knew. But it wasn’t opening.

He was distracted from trying to sort that out by the realization that his skin was beginning to bubble in the heat. They didn’t have much time. The nanos made immortals incredibly flammable. Any minute now he and Eshe would burst into flame and—

Cursing, he backed up a step and threw himself at the door, turning sideways at the last moment to protect Eshe as much as he could. Much to his relief they crashed through the flimsy door and fell out onto the damp ground. Armand instinctively rolled several times, taking Eshe with him to be sure neither of them had caught flame, and then simply lay still with her head on his chest, his heart thudding madly. He stared at the sky overhead for a moment and then turned his head to the side to peer at the shed as a crash sounded. The roof had caved in, the shed was collapsing in on itself.

Sighing, he turned weakly to glance down at Eshe. Her skin was blackened, as was his own. They’d been burned badly and needed blood. He had to get them to the house.

It was the last thought Armand had before unconsciousness claimed him again.

Armand woke to whistling. The tune was one he recognized from his wedding to Rosamund. It was one of the songs that had played at the celebrations afterward. It had been very popular at the time.

“Yeah. My mom used to hum it a lot when I was a kid. For some reason it’s been in my head the last day or so.”

Armand blinked his eyes open and glanced in the direction the voice had come from to see Bricker removing an empty blood bag from an IV beside the bed to replace it with a fresh one. He watched him with a slight frown, his mind slow to sort out why he was in bed and why an IV would be necessary.

“Think fire,” Bricker said dryly, apparently reading his confusion.

The words had the desired effect. Armand’s memory came rushing back to him at once, and he was immediately trying to sit up. Unfortunately, he didn’t appear to have the strength for it.

“Don’t waste your energy,” Bricker admonished. Finished with the bag, he turned to face the bed and peered down at him. “You took a lot of damage. The nanos are still doing their work. Let them.”

Armand slumped back on the pillows with a grunt. The healing obviously had a way to go; that little exercise had left him panting and exhausted. His thoughts were clearing by the minute though.

“Eshe?” The word was little more than a gasp, but Bricker understood.

“In her room. Hooked up to an IV like you.” Bricker grimaced. “She was in worse shape than you. Her back was a ruin. It looked like she’d been broiled.”

Armand closed his eyes, knowing her position straddling him on the couch had saved him being in the same shape. The fire above and around them had been cooking her, but he’d passed out with his face tucked into her shoulder and her body covering his.

“It probably saved you both,” Bricker commented quietly, unapologetic about reading his mind again. He settled himself in the chair next to the bed, and said, “If you’d been in the same shape as her, you never would have got yourself out, let alone her.” He grimaced. “I always thought this passing out after sex business was like a faint. A good slap or a little splash of water in the face and you’d wake up, but it must be complete unconsciousness for her to have slept through what that fire did to her.”

Armand grunted, concern sliding through him again but with guilt this time. Her unconsciousness probably wouldn’t have been so deep had he not bitten her and taken some of her blood. Actually, doing that had probably prevented his waking sooner too. The extra nanos that had come with the blood would have left him weakened.

“She’ll be all right,” Bricker assured him. “She’s already ten times better than she was when I found you both.”

“How?” Armand didn’t bother finishing the question out loud. His throat was bone dry and just speaking that word had hurt like a son of a bitch. As he expected, though, Bricker read the rest of the question and answered at once.

“When hours passed without Eshe returning, I just figured you two were…er…talking,” he said dryly, making it obvious he’d thought they were doing exactly what they had been doing in the shed before passing out. “But when you two didn’t come back by dawn I started to worry and thought I’d just pop out to the barn and be sure everything was all right. I didn’t see you there, but I smelled smoke and followed my nose.” His mouth twisted. “I’m sorry, Armand. I looked out the back window several times and didn’t spot that shed on fire. The barns block it from view.”

Armand gave a slight nod. Aside from the other barns blocking the view of it, the shed was far back on the property and to the side. The trees around the house would have helped block it too. Bricker would have had to come outside to see the fire lighting the sky.

“I’m surprised the shed burned at all with the storm we had last night, but it didn’t last long. I suppose it did little more than dampen things,” he muttered, and then said, “Anyway, I found you guys lying on the grass, the sun adding to the damage you’d already taken. I called Lucian at once, then carried Eshe in, and then you. It wasn’t long after I got you both settled in your rooms that Anders arrived with blood. I was relieved to see him. I’d been trying to trickle blood down your throats when he arrived with the IVs. You were both so bad your fangs wouldn’t come out for me even when I waved the blood under your nose.”

“The insides of their noses were probably singed from breathing in the hot air in the fire.”

Armand glanced toward the door at that comment to see a dark-skinned man entering the room. His eyes instinctively widened, and then he grimaced at the pain that brought about. It wasn’t just his throat that was parched. His eyelids scratched across his eyeballs painfully, but he kept them open to examine the man as he wondered if this was one of Eshe’s children. She’d said she’d had eight and six survived, but he’d never gotten around to asking their sex, or names. He was going to do that the very next time they spoke, he decided. Right before he sent her away with Lucian to a safer place. It seemed obvious Leonius had discovered her whereabouts. She needed to be taken somewhere safer.

“I’m not related to Eshe,” Anders announced, apparently able to read his thoughts. “And don’t worry about her safety. We’re here now. We’ll worry about that for you.” He glanced to Bricker then and held out a phone Armand hadn’t noticed he was carrying until then. “It’s Lucian. For you.”

Bricker stood and moved around the bed at once to take the cordless phone the man was holding out. He said hello, listened, and then grunted and walked out of the room still listening.

“Lucian has been delayed,” the man named Anders explained as he moved around the bed toward the IV. His back was to Armand as he apparently checked the IV, and he added, “It will be evening before he gets here. He wants us to keep you quiet and comfortable until he does.”

Armand didn’t comment, but he doubted it was possible to keep him quiet and comfortable. His body hurt everywhere, from his scalp down to his toes, and he was too worried about Eshe and how she was faring to sleep. In fact, he was about to ask to be taken to her so that he could see for himself that she was all right when Anders turned from the IV with an empty syringe.

“Lucian said you’d want to do that,” he said wryly, obviously reading his mind as Bricker had. “It’s why he said to keep you sedated.”

“Prick,” Armand muttered with a combination of anger and dismay as he realized the man hadn’t been checking the IV but shooting drugs into it. He’d meant Lucian was a prick for giving the order to do so, but Anders apparently thought he’d been directing the insult at him.

He smiled slightly and admitted, “I’ve been called that many times.”

Armand opened his mouth to explain he hadn’t meant him, but the words came out garbled and his eyes were already closing as the drug took effect.

Eshe opened her eyes and peered blearily at Armand. His face was right above hers, a blurry wash of pale skin with silver-blue eyes. Smiling sleepily, she tried to raise her hand to caress his face, but found herself too weary, so murmured, “Armand. So sweet. Kiss me.”

“I’m not Armand. I’m not sweet. And I’m not kissing you.”

Eshe blinked, managing to sweep away some of the sleep or whatever scum was coating her eyes, and found herself staring at Lucian Argeneau’s grim face. She wouldn’t have bothered to prevent the scowl that immediately covered her face if she could have, and she didn’t bother to try to stop the “God! What a face to wake up to” that slipped from her lips either.

“You have always been a charmer,” Lucian said, sounding amused rather than insulted.

Eshe grunted at the words and snapped, “What are you doing in my room?”

“Perhaps you should be asking yourself why you are in your room,” Lucian countered, watching her carefully.

Eshe sought her mind briefly, flushing as the memories of what she and Armand had done in the shed came to her. Obviously the man had carried her into the house while she still slept and put her to bed. Now she’d been caught slacking on the job. If Lucian was here, it must be nighttime and she should be up working.

“She doesn’t remember.”

Eshe opened her eyes again and raised her gaze to the brunette woman she could just see standing behind Lucian. Leigh, his life mate. Eshe had met her only a couple of times in passing since the woman had come into Lucian’s life, but she figured anyone who could put up with his grumpy mug day in and day out had to be a saint, so she smiled at the woman and said, “Hi, Leigh. What are you doing here?”

“She is a saint,” Lucian assured her, obviously having read her thoughts and having absolutely no compunction about letting her know that he had. He could be such a rude bugger.

“I told you the drugs would still be affecting her,” Bricker said, making his presence known. Eshe glanced his way on the other side of the bed, eyebrows rising when she spotted Anders at his side.

“Jeez. What is this, Grand Central Station? Why is everyone in my room? And why does my throat hurt? And what is that smell?” she asked with disgust as she slowly became aware of the different sensations afflicting her.

“What smell is that?” Lucian asked patiently.

“Like burning pork,” she muttered wrinkling her nose.

“That would be you, then,” he said dryly.

“Lucian,” Leigh chided, poking and prodding at him to get him out of the way. The brunette took his place sitting on the edge of her bed, and smiled into Eshe’s confused eyes as she asked, “Do you remember anything at all after you and Armand had your picnic and then…er…napped in the shed?”

Eshe stared at her silently, not really seeing her as she searched her mind, but the very last thing she remembered was passing out on Armand’s lap.

“No,” she said finally, and then with mounting concern, “Did something happen? Where is Armand?”