Sarah McCarty (22 page)
“Well, from my perspective, we don’t have any choice but to do this now. Not if you want Joseph to live.”
Shit, she had him there, but it still didn’t sit right, her looking at him with such trust, and him knowing there was a real limit to how much trust she should be putting in him. “There’s a good chance I could lose my head and take you with me.”
“Where?”
“To the floor.”
Feminine desire perfumed the air. She wasn’t as adverse to the idea as her expression would indicate. “I think you’ve got more control than that.”
He curled his hands into fists. “You’d be wrong.”
“I don’t think so, which means you, Vamp Man”—she rolled up her sleeve—“will just have to suck it up, in more ways than one.”
When she extended her hand, he took it, cradling it on his palm, tucking his thumb into the softness of hers. Her skin was very fine, very white. The tracery of veins beneath pulsed with the beauty of her life. His mate. His to take. To bind. To do with as he would. Slade shook his head. Jane was right. That did sound wrong. It implied a lack of choice. And he would never take her choice away from her. A man didn’t do that to a woman he cared about. His vampire side hissed in displeasure. He smiled at Jane. His vampire could go to hell. “I guess I will.”
Even if it killed him.
His expression must not have been as bland as he’d been aiming for. Concern flashed through Jane’s eyes as she said, “You’re not really in danger of losing control, are you?”
It was little late to be asking that question, in his opinion, seeing as he was already halfway to lost with her hand in his, her pulse under his thumb, her wrist exposed in a submissive gesture that stoked his passion.
“That kiss by the door didn’t teach you anything? Or outside Joseph’s door?”
“Those kisses were an aberration. They caught me by surprise. I was stressed. That led to moments of... weakness.”
“And you think, if I kissed you right now, that same thing wouldn’t happen again?”
The harsh fluorescent light glinted off the amber highlights in her hair as she shook her head. “Absolutely not.”
“Absolutely?”
“Yes. You have too much sense for that.”
“And you think passion has to make sense?”
“Everything makes sense if you put it in context.”
“And my taking your blood will be defined how?”
“As a means to an end.”
She was a lousy liar. Slade tightened his grip on her wrist. “I think it’s more than that. I think this is a test.”
“Of what?”
“Of how long my honor can hold out against temptation.”
“Seriously, I’m not that tempting. I think you can handle it.”
He wasn’t so sure. Just the thought had him throbbing and hard. “I guess we’ll have to see. Just as soon as I get this control sample.”
Slade picked up the syringe. A muscle twitched in Jane’s cheek. She wasn’t as calm as she wanted him to believe. He ought to be able to feel that in her energy, but all he could feel was the simmer of her desire and then ... nothing. Had she learned to block him?
One look at her face gave him his answer. Her lips were pressed tight with thoughts he couldn’t hear. Yet. The stroke of his thumb across her lips echoed in the stutter of her pulse. Holding her gaze, he stroked his calm over the edges of her mind, as he slid the needle into the vein. When he had enough for her to check the sample for changes that might occur post bite, he released her mind, pressing cotton to her vein, while his tongue ached with the need to stroke over her flesh, absorb the taste of the sweet blood he could smell. Addictive. She’d be addictive.
Quelling his vampire, Slade quickly handed Jane the vial and tossed the needle in the sharp tray.
“That part’s done.”
After a blink, Jane’s free hand went to her neck. “Wonderful. Can’t wait for the next.”
Slade shook his head. “I don’t have to take the blood from your throat.” But he wanted to. Wanted to be steeped in her scent, steeped in her presence as he took the essence of who she was and made it part of him. “I can take it from your wrist.”
It sounded a bit clinical, in the face of the emotion pulsing between them. “I can make sure you don’t feel a thing.”
Jane was shaking her head before he finished the thought. “I don’t want to miss anything.”
“Cause you know it’s going to be hot, right?”
She blinked. “Because if you really are a vampire, it’ll be important I get the details right.”
“You still doubt?”
A shrug and then with the efficiency with which she did most things, she shoved her other sleeve up above her elbow, presenting him with a matched set. “How much blood do you need to take for it to impact yours?”
Arousal rose hot and hard at the overt submission. Arm, neck, it didn’t matter. She was volunteering her blood to him. His vampire howled in delight. His fangs ached to pierce that white skin. Mate. Wife. His.
“Not two arms’ worth.”
“Oh.”
She debated before thrusting the one without the bandage at him. He brought her palm to his mouth. She gasped. He touched his tongue to her skin. It took a second for what he’d done to sink through her fear. She gasped again.
“This isn’t going to hurt, sweetness.”
“You’re going to bite me, how could it not hurt?”
“There are numbing agents in my saliva.” He kissed her palm. “I promise you, only pleasure.”
Her fingers naturally curled against his cheek. He set his teeth to the base of her thumb and nipped. She squealed. She was more than a little nervous. He smiled and did it again, just to get her used to the idea. Her thumb rapped his cheek. He looked up.
“Just do it.”
“There’s foreplay to blood taking, just like there is to lovemaking.”
“I’m not interested in being seduced.”
“Now, that is a pity.”
Tension entered her muscles. “This is an experiment, Slade. Not the start of a wild weekend.”
But it was the start of their relationship. It didn’t matter what precipitated the act. The reality was, this was their first bonding. From here on out, a part of her would live in him. A very special first that would open her mind to his if he knocked, lock her emotions to his if he queried. After this, he would be able to find her no matter where she went, probe her mind no matter how much she tried to lock him out. She had a right to know that. He was a bastard for not telling her. “It’s a start, make no mistake.”
“Just do it.”
Holding her gaze, he bent his head, enthralling her, catching her mind, holding it tightly, pulling her thoughts to his. Elation built within him. Vampire lust, primitive and strong, rose right along with the joy. He quickly harnessed it. He wasn’t going to convert her. He was just going to torment himself with a taste of her. Not enough to satisfy. Just enough to let him know what he was missing. He had to be insane.
Her pupils dilated. Her nostril flared.
Easy now. This is a taste, not a conversion
. Hell, he didn’t even know if she could be converted. His brothers had converted their wives out of necessity, life-or-death situations when the decisions were made. This was a choice, not an emergency. Tightening his hold on Jane’s mind, Slade slid beneath her fear and untangled the threads of tension, replacing them with calm. His fangs ached and stretched. His mouth watered. Maybe his vampire wasn’t as far away from his human side as he’d thought, because nothing inside him was horrified by this. Vampire and human alike wanted to posses her completely, wholly. He placed his fangs at the pulse point of her wrist. Echoes of her heartbeat vibrated along his nerve endings, strumming against the rhythm of his, accelerating it until it matched hers.
. Hell, he didn’t even know if she could be converted. His brothers had converted their wives out of necessity, life-or-death situations when the decisions were made. This was a choice, not an emergency. Tightening his hold on Jane’s mind, Slade slid beneath her fear and untangled the threads of tension, replacing them with calm. His fangs ached and stretched. His mouth watered. Maybe his vampire wasn’t as far away from his human side as he’d thought, because nothing inside him was horrified by this. Vampire and human alike wanted to posses her completely, wholly. He placed his fangs at the pulse point of her wrist. Echoes of her heartbeat vibrated along his nerve endings, strumming against the rhythm of his, accelerating it until it matched hers.
“Are you sure?” he asked her, one last time. “Nothing will be the same for you after this.”
“Will I be vampire?”
Not if he held on to his control, kept a barrier between their thoughts. “No.”
The pink of her tongue slid over the richer pink of her lips. “Then we’ll deal with the fallout later.”
Moisture glistened on the plump surface of her lips. Damn, was she trying to kill him? “Take a breath and relax for me, then.”
If he was truly kind he would tell her to close her eyes, but he didn’t want her to close her eyes. He wanted her to see him taking her this way, the same way he was going to want her to see him claiming her the first time they became lovers. He wanted her to know who gave her the pleasure so she’d know to whom she belonged. No doubt she’d call him a chauvinist for the impulse. No doubt she’d be right. He stroked his tongue over her skin. He wasn’t born in her time, raised with her values. When he peeled off everything he’d learned over the centuries, he was still who he was. A nineteenth-century man who believed his woman was to be cherished, protected. Owned. He bit down. Hot, sweet spice poured into his mouth. Elation leapt to euphoria. He was helpless to contain it. Inside, his vampire cried
more
. And more came at him—her senses, her emotions, her thoughts. She wanted to be horrified, but a part of her sensed the rightness of this sharing between them. And that did horrify her. Slade could have told her nothing was ever easy, especially this. That it was inevitable and beautiful in its own way. If one had centuries to adjust to the idea.
more
. And more came at him—her senses, her emotions, her thoughts. She wanted to be horrified, but a part of her sensed the rightness of this sharing between them. And that did horrify her. Slade could have told her nothing was ever easy, especially this. That it was inevitable and beautiful in its own way. If one had centuries to adjust to the idea.
Three swallows, he told himself. He’d allow himself just three. As he took the first, the scent of her arousal rose up to embrace him. Heady. Powerful. And sweet. Everything about her was sweet. On the second swallow, passion weakened her knees. Catching her with a hand behind her back, he coaxed her into his embrace.
Come here, sweetness. Come here.
The compulsion for more was stronger now, too potent to resist. He was surrounded by her scent, imbued with her pleasure until nothing existed but his desire for her, hers for him. It was all around them. The promise of what would be. What should be.
Jane.
Slade.
The whisper of his name slipped into his mind. As sweet as her desire, as potent as her touch. Tendrils of her need wrapped around his, drawing him closer. Elemental. A longing for the physical as well as the emotional. Alone, she’d been alone for so long. She didn’t want to be alone anymore. His thoughts twined around hers, holding her tightly, banishing that loneliness. She was ready. He could take her now and all she’d feel was pleasure. And she’d never be alone again. He’d always be with her. He could give her that.
If he took her humanity.
Slade closed his eyes. The third swallow never came. Releasing her wrist, Slade skimmed his fangs across her skin, the sense of loss pushing him harder than logic. A lap of his tongue sealed the wound on her wrist, but nothing could suppress the howl of loss from his vampire. A cry for a mate that would echo in his head far into eternity. Placing his lips on the inside of Jane’s arm, holding her close as she shivered in reaction to the caress, Slade whispered the one promise he could make. “You’ll never be alone again.”
11
SHE
couldn’t be alone.
couldn’t be alone.
Slade laid Jane on the bed in their cabin. Her pulse was too fast, her nerves were on fire. Her thoughts were hazed by discomfort and something he couldn’t identify. And he didn’t have a clue as to what was going on. He’d been very careful to take only a little blood. Nowhere near enough to risk conversion. But from all the signs, Jane was in rejection. Shifting and moaning, she twisted on the sheets, pushing the pillow aside, shoving her hair out of her face with short, jerky, frustrated movements. He pulled the sheet over her shoulder.
“Jane.”
“No.”
She shoved the sheet down. Slade caught her hands before she could claw at her skin.
“Don’t, Jane.”
“Itches,” she groaned in that same half-conscious tone she’d used since he’d taken her blood.
He pulled the sheet down. A rash was spreading across her body, starting at her wrist and going up her arm, flaring downward from her neck.
Son of a bitch. She was having a reaction to his bite. He shoved her hand down the back waistband of his jeans, trying to keep it out of his way while he checked her back, then grabbed the other one and did the same.
As he lifted her, Jane’s breath hissed out between her teeth. He froze. “What?”
“Better.”
Better? What the hell could be better about this?
“What’s better, sweetness?”
Her palms were inching back and forth on the small of his back.
“My hands. So much better.”
Her hands were better. He thought a moment. He was sweating. Could perspiration from his body be soothing whatever was causing the reaction? He’d heard some pretty bizarre conversion stories—good and bad.
Except he hadn’t converted Jane.
Caleb’s conversion of Allie had been nothing like Jace’s of Miri. Of course, Miri had been werewolf and Allie human, but both women had gained strength with the conversion. Raisa had been converted centuries earlier, but had been so sick her whole vampire life that she’d always been on the verge of death, until Jared. His blood had given her strength. Jane might have been right. Maybe there was something about the Johnson blood that made conversions a whole different prospect. And maybe it was that “something” to which Jane was reacting.
Shit.
Shit.
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