Poking the Vamp (Knight Protectors #3) (6 page)

The truth resonated through him, bouncing off his ribs and finally settling into the one place he needed Katherine most—his heart.

Surprise held Kate immobile. At first. Her grandmother’s arms held her captive, limbs like steel bands locking her close as she was carried down the hallway. The vampiress turned this way and that, striding through the halls. She jerked against the hands clutching her, twitching and fighting to be free. Each step Galla took drew her farther from Joce, farther from his warmth.

She was so cold now, the chill sinking into her bones and crawling into her marrow. Each stride jarred her, stretching her taut muscles and adding to the ache that consumed her body.

Her grandmother’s heels clicked and clacked over the gleaming marble tile, steps never faltering despite carrying Kate like a sack of potatoes over her shoulder.

Click.

Pain.

Clack.

Ache.

Click…

The next one stole her breath and she whimpered as dark spots filled her vision. She
hurt
. The greater the distance the greater the pain, and if Galla would just stop and listen and take her back and…

“Shhh, dearling. I have you.” Galla stopped and eased Kate down to rest on a bench of some sort.

They sat in the mansion’s entryway, tile reflecting the light and burning her eyes while the thick scent of cleaning supplies singed her nose. Sounds overwhelmed her, soft whispers booming and pounding in her eardrums. They consumed her mind and she snatched her hands from Galla’s grip, covering her ears.

Her stomach twisted and clenched, a new agony assaulting her as her fangs descended. They pricked her lower lip, sending a sting through her blood. When Galla stroked her once more, frozen fingers trailing down her arm, Kate jerked away and hissed at her grandmother.

The woman didn’t seem fazed by her threat in the slightest. “Do not worry. Grandmamma will ease you through your Hunger. You shall not suffer. I vow it.” Galla brushed aside a few wayward strands of Kate’s hair, fingertips grazing her skin, and she jerked away again with a growl. “After your Hunger has passed I will separate you from that animal and help you build a new life in the darkness.”

Separate? From Joce?

“No.” She pricked her tongue on a fang—
her
new fang.

Kate lifted her fingers, tips glancing over the new razor sharp teeth, the tip scraping the digit, but not breaking skin. Vampire.

Joce’s vampire.

Yes. Those two words placed side by side resonated in her soul and they were
right.
They were good and true and perfect and that connection couldn’t ever be severed.

It’d kill Kate.

It’d kill
him
.

“Dearling…” Galla reached for her and Kate swatted the vampiress’ hands away.

“No. I’m not leaving.” Kate ignored the lisp that now plagued her speech.

“That animal has—”

“He’s mine,” she hissed long and low, fangs bared once more in a clear threat.

The words rang with truth and she wouldn’t ever call it back. Something stretched and twined between her and Joce. She wasn’t sure what exactly—maybe it was just the bond between a sire and newly turned. An explanation couldn’t destroy the connection, though. Just the thought of Joce burned away some of the chill freezing her bones.

“Katherine Bennett,” Galla snapped and rose until she stared down at Kate. “You will heed me.”

She recognized the tone, the compulsion that filled each syllable. When she was a child, it froze her in place, afraid to breathe for fear of her grandmother’s wrath. As an adult, it sent a tendril of fear along her spine. As a vampire yearning for another and knowing Galla stood between her and what she desired most, it did nothing.

There was no control, no hint of power over her that kept Kate immobile. Oh, Galla’s vampiric strength tried to snatch her will, but it failed. Centuries old and Galla couldn’t overpower a brand new vampire.

“No,” she shook her head and carefully pushed to her feet, steadying herself against the wall. “I need…”

To feed. To rest.

Her stomach twisted and clenched, something inside her saying Joce was the answer to both. She’d been attracted to him at the hospital, but now he was necessary to her survival, to her very being. Every beat of her heart said the same thing.
Joce, Joce, Joce.

“Me.” His voice rang through the entryway, a single word immediately followed by his heavy, hurried steps. “You need me.”

She swung her attention to him.

“Joce.” She said his name with a sigh. The coldness that plagued her fled at his appearance, her body warming more and more the closer he came. Her blood called for him, and her mouth watered at the thought of tasting him once more.

“No,” Galla snarled and took a step toward Joce, fingers curled as if they were talons. “You will never—”

Kate wasn’t sure where the strength came from, really. She was drained, the Change drawing on every ounce of her energy, but something inside snapped and urged her forward. It drove her to race past her grandmother and slide between Galla and Joce, to lift her hands and block the vampiress’ attempt to hurt him. To hurt her… something. Her sire? Was that what vampires called the one who Changed them?

“No, Galla.” She shouted the words, fighting to be heard over the woman’s scream. “No!”

But she didn’t stay between Galla and Joce for long. Not when thick arms wrapped around her waist and hauled her aside, shoving her behind a body until all she saw was Joce’s broad back. His quick actions didn’t save her from pain, though. The debilitating cold was gone only to be replaced with a burning sting that enveloped her forearm.

Her forearm.

Kate turned her attention to that part of her, to the long gashes that Galla somehow managed to inflict as Joce drew her to safety. Her blood dripped to the pale marble beneath her feet, the off-white surface stained red with the liquid.
Drip, drip, drip…
The wound slowly closed, skin knitting back together beneath her watchful eye, pale flesh slipping together like puzzle pieces.

“That’s convenient,” she murmured, staring transfixed as the healing slowly came to an end. Too bad none of her other patients could benefit from such rapid recovery.

Then the screaming started. Not hers. Kate was safe courtesy of Joce barring Galla’s path.

No, it was Galla shouting in… pain?

“Joce?” Kate placed her hand on his back and peeked around him. She thought her grandmother had gone too far, reacting to the situation before anyone understood what was happening, but he shouldn’t
hurt
her. “What’s going on?”

What she found reminded her of the short stint she spent in the burn unit at the hospital. The bubbling flesh, the way it seemed to melt, twist, and turn from the damage. It slipped down her fingers, gradually peeling back to expose the muscles, tendons, and bones of Galla’s fingers. Her grandmother’s blood poured from the wounds, more and more sliding free to splatter and mingle with Kate’s own.

“What did you do?” Her stomach lurched. “What did you do to her?” Kate shifted her weight and placed her hands on Joce’s arm, intent on shoving him away. “How could you do that?”

Galla’s screams rose in volume, bouncing off the walls and magnifying with each jump from surface to surface.

“Kate, don’t touch her!” A new woman’s voice joined the fray. Not just a new woman—it was Tory. She slid to a stop beside them, stopping between Galla and Joce. Tory whipped a knife from her pocket and reached for Joce’s arm. “She just had to draw blood from you, didn’t she, Kate?”

Tory’s eyes were on Kate and she felt compelled to answer. “It wasn’t on purpose.”

“And I’m sure she doesn’t want to die on purpose, either,” Tory grumbled and snatched Joce’s wrist.

It wasn’t until the blade was pressed to his forearm that either of them spoke. Their thoughts echoing each other. “What are you doing?”

“The vow, idiot. Now, hold still or we’ll lose more of her than anyone would like.” The tip pressed to his flesh and blood welled to the surface.

Galla screeched when she realized Tory’s intent. “I don’t want his blood!”

“It’s this or die, you self-righteous bitch.” It was Tory’s turn to screech.

And no one said a word. Not while the knife dug deep or when Tory forced Joce to hold his arm above Galla’s melting hand or when she squeezed and squeezed until more and more blood flowed.

Galla’s injury began healing, knitting together to reform what was once a delicate, milk-white hand. Now the skin was raw and red, seemingly stained by Kate’s blood. It wasn’t until the last weeping slice closed that anyone breathed, anyone spoke.

“What was that?” Kate whispered.

“That,” Tory dropped the knife to the ground and followed it down until she rested on her ass. “Was what happens when someone attacks a vampire’s
fire
. His fully claimed, truly bound, and utterly possessed
fire
.” Kate opened her mouth, ready to ask for a better explanation, but Tory wasn’t done.

“Those words, the whole
may the fire in your blood destroy all who threaten
part… Yeah, well, her blood will literally destroy whomever harms her. Not figuratively and not in the incorrect use of the word literally way. I mean, her blood will burn someone like acid, and it won’t stop until Joce’s is introduced to halt its progress.”

“That’s impossible,” Galla whispered, drawing their attention once more. Her hand was still dark pink, but the hue gradually lessened with each passing moment. “
Fires
are a myth. They don’t—”

Tory snorted. “If you say they don’t exist, I can’t promise I won’t punch you in the junk. I’m already pissed at how you’ve acted, the pain you caused, so it’d be my pleasure. Really,” she drawled. “As for the existence of a vampire’s
fire
. I’m Liam’s
fire
. Wren is Griffin’s. Kate is Joce’s.” Tory rose to her knees and stared down at the still cowering Galla. “Right or wrong, good or bad, they exist—we exist.”

Fire
. The word filled Kate. It wiggled and wormed its way into her veins, sliding alongside her blood and stretching to consume every nerve ending. It stroked her. It scraped her. It soothed her. It demanded she do as it desired.

And it wanted Joce. Wholly. Completely. Unquestionably.

There was one other thing she couldn’t fight—
she
wanted Joce.

Eventually. Maybe. Someday?

Then he looked at her, those blazing eyes that saw into her heart, and she realized someday was that very second and in the middle of the entryway if they didn’t find a bed STAT.

Joce knew the moment Kate’s needs changed, transforming from blood to something much more intimate. She wanted
him
and that hunger reared inside him in response.

He glanced around the hallway, spying all the single males, vampires that could turn his
fire’s
head. Tybalt and Trewe looked at Kate as if she was a delicious meal.

She was
his
.

And he needed to brand her as such. He needed his scent to permeate every inch of her until his possession was unmistakable. He wanted to taste her—her skin, her blood—and be tasted in return.

But not here, not in the mansion’s entryway. Not where others could see Kate’s curves as he uncovered her lush body.

My rooms.

Yes, that’s where they needed to be. Now.

Joce reached for her, arm extended, fingers beckoning her close. “Come,
chéri
.”

Kate didn’t resist, the lust in her gaze telling him she was on the same page. They needed to share their bodies, their blood.

Galla made some sort of objection, but the others remained quiet. Even Carac stepped aside when he led his
fire
to the stairway. Hand-in-hand they climbed the steps, bare feet sinking into the plush carpeting. The thick padding made their steps noiseless as they made their way down twisting and turning hallways.

Anticipation thrummed inside him, his cock pulsing and throbbing with desire for Kate. He would have her, take her, and fill her at the same time. So sweet. So hot.

Another corner, the final turn, and then they stood before the double doors to his suite of rooms. He laid his palm on the nearby pad set into the wall. It ensured privacy without the pesky need of often-lost keys.

Then they were inside, his silent fire at his side. Words weren’t necessary. Not when their bodies spoke for them, not when their blood knew what needed to be done.

Joce drew her toward the bedroom, his arousal growing with each step. He had a
fire
. He burned for another. And now he would have her beneath him.

Now. Now. Now.

They passed through the living room, furniture sparse. He had no one to share his life with, the entire apartment was half empty. That would change with Kate’s presence. He would make a home for her.

The kitchen gleamed with disuse, the space constantly looking pristine with its granite counters and bright stainless steel appliances.

Then they were in the bedroom, massive king-sized bed looming with its darkened wood and deep, warm colors.

He realized he’d always attempted to surround himself in the appearance of warmth even though he remained cold. He wouldn’t freeze any longer. Not with Kate.

“Kate,” he murmured, stopping beside the bed and drawing her close. “I want you.”

“Yes.” No argument. No objection.

He saw the truth in her eyes, the raw need lurking within the chocolate orbs.

Joce breathed deeply, sorting through her scent and pushing back the sweetness of her blood. He sought more, he went deeper. There he found her arousal, the warm musk that told of her pure craving.

He began with her shirt, the stained scrubs hardly clinging to her chest. He debated lifting it up and over her head, but settled on tearing it from her body. He grabbed the two halves, grasping both her bra and the shirt at the neck and tugged, pulling until it fluttered to the ground and he was presented with… perfection.

Her body twitched, arms rising as if to cover herself, and Joce was there, stopping her before she could hide from him. Her skin was luminous in the dimmed room, paleness glowing through the darkness and his mouth watered. Her nipples were hardened pebbles that begged for his lips, his tongue, his fangs. Would she let him drink from her breast?