Cast in Blood (Morgan Blackstone Vampires Book 1) (35 page)

“Now, now, love,” Nicholas strolled toward them as though he had all the time in the world, “what did the fool do?”
 

“He tried bribery,” she laughed.

“They always do. Was it at least interesting?” Nicholas answered, sounding bored.

“Not in the least. He thinks money will make up for what he’s done.” She paused and tilted her head to the right before drawling, “What he
still
wants to do.”

“That would have to be an indecent amount of money,” Nicholas mused, while Morgan set the human back on the ground. The man’s face had gone from bright red to a mottled purple hue. Nicholas smiled, on some level he’d known not to worry, that Morgan would be fine. Seeing her in action went a lot further.

“He’s all yours, my love,” Morgan took a step to one side, releasing her grip on the man. The human staggered, then tried to run. He took two steps before Nicholas caught and spun him into his chest.
 

“Nothing personal,” Nicholas whispered, before he struck. Feeding from this human was a different experience than feeding from Morgan or Lilly. Those feedings were slow seductions, whereas this was fast, brutal and violent. He pulled the hot metallic liquid into his mouth. The blood coursed through his veins, suffusing him with strength, healing him. Nicholas lost himself in the frantic thunder of the human’s heart, as it fought to continue. The muscle raced at first, as though getting as much blood as possible to every part of the body was the only concern. As he drank, it changed to frantic fluttering, stuttering, as the remaining blood was diverted to vital organs. The heart lurched, shuddered and stopped, and Nicholas tore his mouth away from the man’s flesh. He gasped and dropped the body, trying to remain on his feet.
It’s been centuries since I’ve fed to the point of death. The power is intoxicating
.
 

“We’re not going to be able to hide the cause of death in the usual way, my dear.”

“He deserved it.” Nicholas kicked the corpse at his feet, feeling contempt for the man.

“Well, the woman who married him deserves better,” Morgan breathed. She frowned at the corpse for a moment, before reaching under Nicholas’s jacket. He watched with growing fascination, as Morgan took his dagger and sliced a deep cut into the human’s neck, hiding the punctures his fangs made.

“They’re going to notice the complete lack of blood, love.”

“No, they won’t,” she replied without emotion and drew him away from the corpse, her hand warm against his flesh.
 
Nicholas caught sight of her eyes and frowned. The irises were glowing like candle flames. Morgan paused, and turned back to where the dead man lay. She frowned as though considering a tricky problem for a few seconds, then smiled. Her eyes changed, flames dancing through them, as the corpse first blackened, and then caught fire.
 

“Okay, time to leave,” Nicholas muttered, and pulled Morgan away from the alley. He let centuries of training and practice take over, as he pulled them deep into the crowded street. His arm snaked around Morgan’s torso, drawing her close. His heart raced, when she tucked in close to him. “Did you notice anything strange?”

“Like we’re being watched?”
 

“I’d hoped it was just my paranoia.”

“Nope.”

“I think we need to go back to the cabin. At the very least, it’s isolated, and we won’t have to worry about whether or not the humans see anything they shouldn’t.” Without waiting for an answer, Nicholas steered them to the car they’d parked more than an hour before.

“You’re right. And I think you were right the other night, I should learn to fire a gun.”

“You wouldn’t be a right proper twenty–first century vampire, if you didn’t, love. All the cool kids are doing it.” Nicholas chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Okay, promise me you’ll never talk like that again. It’s just too frightening.”

“You have my word of honor.”

“That’s more like the stuffed shirt I married.” Morgan laughed.

“Stuffed shirt?” he bent to whisper in her ear, “Just you wait until we get home, I’ll make you take that back.”

“I look forward to it, sir.” She chuckled, mischief twinkling in her eyes, as she slipped away from him. She sauntered ahead for about half a block, before Nicholas jogged a few steps catching up to her. Morgan let out a small yelp of surprise as his arm slid around her waist.
 
Neither of them noticed the smaller man tucked into the shadow of a nearby building, or how a pair of silver eyes watched their progress.
 

T
WO
NIGHTS
LATER
, Morgan was in the clearing, working through the physical and mental exercises. She thought of them as meditation. The sound of tires crunching on the dirt drive heralded Nicholas’s return. She fought to focus, with his mind buffeting against hers, to finish the series of moves she had begun, before turning to face him. He was watching her, leaning against the sedan.
 

“Don’t stop on my account.” He chuckled, pushing away from the car, a slight smile curling his lips, lighting up his blue grey eyes.

“I didn’t. I was just about finished anyway,” she answered, closing the distance between them.

“Liar,” he whispered, feathering a light kiss over her lips. “How do you feel?” Nicholas chuckled, settling his hands on Morgan’s hips, pulling her to him.

“I’m surprised you have to ask, my love,” she giggled. Now that he was back, she was able to place the strange empty feeling as a repercussion of sharing his blood. She could also feel his unease and subconscious fear that she was going to push him away again.
 
“I am extremely happy Nicholas. If not for the fact that Julian and Elizabeth are in danger, I would be content to remain here with you for several months, perhaps even years.”
 

“You surprise me.”

“When are you going to realize that you’re stuck with me for another few centuries, at the very least?” Morgan laughed and feathered quick butterfly kisses along his strong jaw.

“Ask me in about two hundred years. I may have figured it out by then.” He laughed. “Do you want to do some target practice?”
 

“Yeah,” she answered, taking his hand in hers. “And then we need to talk about what we’re both trying to avoid.”

“Whether or not to strengthen the blood bond further.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know. I could sense your presence while I was out, but it’s not something I would trust when I don’t know where to begin. For that reason alone, I would continue.”

“And what speaks against it?”

“You know,” Nicholas’s, voice was rough with emotion as he caught her wrists in his hands. Morgan gasped, as his grip tightened to the point where it danced the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain. “See? I fear that if we continue, I won’t be able to control the possessive side of my nature. I fear that I won’t maintain the ability to be reasonable, and see the logic in sending you into danger. More than anything, I fear giving into this desire to find Alexander, taking him apart piece by piece, killing him by inches, using all my abilities to keep him alive and alert, as long as possible. I want to torture him.” As he spoke, Nicholas’s eyes shifted, becoming distant and hard as steel.

“Then we have to continue.”
 

“Explain.” It was a command, one that made her pulse race. She knew Nicholas felt it fluttering under his fingers, by the wry smile that crossed his features without reaching his eyes.

“What if it’s because the bond isn’t strong enough? Julian is ancient, even compared to you, and his Sire is the second oldest vampire walking the earth.” As she spoke, Nicholas turned them, so her back was pressed against the sedan. He released her wrists, and braced himself against the car, one hand on either side of Morgan’s body, leaning toward her until there was only an inch between them. Fighting the thrill of desire that skittered down her spine, she took a calming breath. Then pressed on, feeling a strange sense of certainty. “It could be that, Lucian has often commented on the strength of the bond Julian and I share.”

“You think that because we’ve both laid claim, as it were, it’s bringing out my baser instincts?” he whispered, while his lips fluttered along her throat and collarbone.

“Gods I hope so Nicholas, because I don’t know if I can take much more of you like this.” The words struck him like a blow, and her husband broke through. Morgan saw his muscles tense; she knew he was going to push away from the car, pull away from her.
Unacceptable
, she thought, and caught him around the waist, moving with him. Without thinking, she lunged at him, catching his exposed throat with her teeth. Nicholas froze under her, his eyes wide, filled with surprise.
Good, he wants to fight, but is shackled by his reluctance to hurt me.
 

Morgan’s fangs sank into his vein, while she slid her hands up to his shoulders, pinning him. She moaned, as his memories flooded her mind.
It’s a strange thing, to see myself through his eyes. To Nicholas, I am something precious to be protected and cared for. That I can take care of myself, makes him proud, but also worries him. The fact that I was held prisoner for eight weeks without him even knowing is torture. He imagines Hellish torments he’s certain I’ve endured, and he blames himself for my pain.
With that bit of knowledge tucked into her mind, Morgan thought she understood his possessiveness a little better, when she released his throat several minutes later. She kissed and licked the wound, letting the healing properties of her saliva do its work. She kissed her way up, over his strong jaw line, to his full lips. He sighed in pleasure, as she pressed her lips against his, teasing and coaxing a long luxurious kiss from him.

“That was unexpected,” he muttered, taking her hand in his. She smiled and nodded, before he turned her hand over and set his teeth into her wrist.
Why the wrist
? Morgan thought and gritted her teeth. Tendons shifted and ground against one another, in ways they weren’t meant to.
This is my least favorite place to be bitten. I hated it in the days before I became a vampire when Julian fed at my wrist, and nothing’s changed, despite the fact that it’s Nicholas. I want to fight, but that would just tease the possessive side we’re trying to tame.
Though it took no more than a few minutes, it seemed like hours before Nicholas released her, and slid his tongue over the punctures, sealing the wound. When he didn’t speak or move for a few moments, Morgan slipped her arms around his waist, and felt him take several deep breaths.

“How do you feel?” she asked, feathering light kisses near his ear.

“It’s better, still there, but I can control it.” He nuzzled her neck, and Morgan sensed that he was testing his control. “Yes, definitely easier,” he purred, sending her pulse rate through the roof. She forgot how to breathe for a moment. Nicholas chuckled, knowing what he was doing and enjoying every second of it.

“Then perhaps a firearms lesson?” she asked though every fiber of her being screamed in protest. Even the logical part of her, the one that had come up with the harebrained idea, flip–flopped.

“As you wish, my Lady,” he answered, as his hands wandered down Morgan’s body, feather light temptations that made her knees weak.
 

The lesson was different from the others. Nicholas was right beside Morgan the whole time, his hands correcting some flaw in stance, grip, or just resting on the rise of her hips. She knew that deep down, he needed to reassure himself.
 

“Better?” she asked, examining the tight groupings on the paper target. There were three clusters, one at center mass, the second where the heart would be, and the last at the throat.

“Much improved,” Nicholas whispered, kissing her neck as she leaned into him, taking comfort from his presence. “Why don’t you go have that bath you’re thinking about? I’ll get the brew and bring it to you.”

“Thank you, I think I will. I do have one question though.”

“What’s that?”

“How’s that possessive streak?” Morgan thought she knew, but was still new at reading his emotions through the blood bond, and wanted to be sure.

“Better, but I think you knew that.”

“I prefer to check in, until I get better at reading you.”
 

“Nothing to worry about tonight,” he mused. Nicholas turned her toward the house and gave a gentle push. “Now, inside with you wench. We’ll talk more when you’ve had the brew.” Morgan glanced over her shoulder, and saw him standing at the back of the car, the trunk open. “Don’t think I didn’t notice. You’re pushing yourself.” His eyes met hers, over the trunk, and he nodded toward the house.
 

Morgan turned and walked into the cabin.
If whatever he has in mind is like the past several days, sleep is way overrated
.

Nicholas watched her walk away, with a heavy heart. The blood bond was strong enough that he could find her anywhere. It required a few moment’s concentration, but once he sensed her presence, it was like a compass pointing north, which meant they needed to leave in the morning.
 

I want more time. Yeah, maybe that makes me a selfish bastard, but damn it, after so many centuries of stolen moments and hiding how we feel around others, we deserve more time alone, like this
. Growling in frustration and anger, he locked the gun inside its case in the trunk, and slammed the lid closed. The moment he entered the cabin Nicholas heard running water, and smiled.
If there’s one thing I can always count on, it’s that Morgan will never pass up a chance at a hot bath. Good, let her relax. It will give her time to wrap her mind around everything that’s been happening. That was what this time was supposed to be about
. He walked over to the stereo, turned it on, and flipped through her iPod until he found a playlist called ‘Nicholas’s. Laughing, he started the music, letting the eclectic mix they both enjoyed, fill the cabin. While the brew was warming, he called to check in with Marcus in Los Angeles, and Adain in Ireland.