The Blood of Angels: Divine Vampires (4 page)

“Sam?”

The world feels far away, or I’m far away from the world, I’m not sure which. The voice is calling me, but it’s not
The Maker
… in fact, the gentle sort of presence of
The Maker
is gone altogether, and in its place is a strange, empty void.

I don’t like it.

“Sam? Are you okay?”

“Alex?” I feel a hand in mine, squeezing.

“No…” Lips brush my forehead. “It’s Zeph.”

I open my eyes to him, looking down at me from above.

Where am I?
Who
am I?

“They said yes.” The voice coming from my mouth startles me so much I touch my throat in wonder.

“I noticed.” Zeph chuckles. “I don’t often come home to naked women sleeping on my couch.”

Naked?

Woman?

Sleeping?

I feel something covering me, something light and soft. He must have covered me…

I find myself wondering how it all happened. Why here? Did someone put me here? Did I just appear?

Appear
…

What do I look like?

“Do I look like me?” I touch my face, feeling the softness of the skin there. “Do I… am I…?”

“You’re beautiful.” His eyes are on mine, those hot, dark eyes. They say far more than he does. His gaze is answering all sorts of questions I haven’t even asked yet.

“Am I really human?”

I feel my belly, flat and smooth, the skin taut, as I move my hand upward, encountering the swell of a breast. Startled, I move my hand downward, past my navel, pausing there in a moment in confusion—no fairy has ever had a navel! Curious, I explore lower, encountering a wedge of wiry hair covering a soft mound of flesh.

“I’m… a woman!”

“Yes.” His gaze moves over the form my body makes under the covering. “
All
woman, I’d say…”

Something warm rises in my cheeks, some sort of heat, and I’m not sure if it’s my response to his words, or to finding the moist cleft between my legs, my finger parting the flesh there.

“The air… it’s so cold…”

“It takes getting used to.” Zeph pulls the blanket up to my chin.

I shake my head, smiling. “
Inside
my body, I mean… when I…” Taking a deep breath, I feel my middle filling with coolness, and yet I exhale heat over my lips.

“Oh, breathing!” He laughs. “I forgot. That’s breathing.”

“And there’s a funny feeling here.” I take his hand and press it between my bare breasts. “Do you hear it? I think I can hear it.”

“That’s your heart beating.” His hand so large under mine, although not as large as it once was, when I was fey. Still, I feel so small next to him. I press his hand to the rhythmic beating there, and then slowly move it over the swell of my breast. His eyes meet mine, searching.

“I want this.” I cup my flesh with his hand.

“I know. Patience, little one.” He nods, moving his hand from my breast to touch my cheek.

“You don’t understand!” Sitting, the blanket pooling in my lap, I frown at him. “I don’t have a lot of time. How long have I slept?”

“It’s still Christmas Eve,” he assures me, brushing something soft and feathery from my forehead, and I realize it must be human hair.
My
hair. “We have time… I promise...”

“Oh!” My belly lurches and I put my hand down to still it. Something is gnawing there, tenacious, and I gasp. “Something’s inside me! It’s trying to get out! It hurts!”

“You’re just hungry.” His eyebrows rise and then he smiles.

“Hungry,” I repeat, incredulous. “This is hungry? I don’t like it.”

“Let’s go get you something to eat.” Smiling, he stands and holds out his hand. “I think you’ll like that.”

I recognize most of the things he takes out of the refrigerator. Alex and I have talked at length about the things humans eat and what it might be like to taste food.

“This is cheese.” He cuts off a yellow strip and holds it out to me. His gaze moves down my naked body for a moment before skipping away again, searching through the pile of food on the counter. “You should probably get some protein in you to start with…”

Taste! What a marvelous thing this is! The texture changes in my mouth as the cheese melts over my tongue. Instead of quieting it, though, it makes the growling in my belly even more intense. I grab the hunk of yellow-orange stuff and the knife he used to cut it, determined to get more.

“Whoa, there!” He takes the knife from me, holding it high. “Sharp. Dangerous. Remember that.”

I shrug, taking a bite off the end of the whole block of cheese, moaning in pleasure at the sensation against my tongue. He watches me, amused, as I take another bite and then another, my mouth stuffed. The ache in my belly lessens every time I swallow.

“Okay, so you like cheese.” He laughs, picking up a round thing and removing its skin. “Let’s see if you like fruit.”

“What’s that?” I put the cheese down and reach for a similar round thing on the counter. It’s orange and cold and heavy in my hand. Zeph grabs it just before I’m about to take a bite.

“You don’t eat that outer part.” He shows me the round globe, nude now, its white, stringy flesh showing inside.

“Like this.” He pulls it apart, sectioning off a piece and holding it up to my mouth.

“Open.” He slips a wedge of the fruit into my eager mouth, and I gasp when it bursts against my tongue, releasing sweetness and light.

“Ohhh more!” I reach for the rest, taking it from his hands and biting off another sweet wedge, chewing happily.

“Well, oranges are a hit,” he observes as I give up on sectioning off wedges and just bite into the fruit, the cold, delicious juice dripping down my chin. I close my eyes, sucking on the sweet flesh, moaning softly. I realize I sound like every woman I’ve ever heard having sex.

If I’d known food was so good…!

“This is wonderful!” I lick at my fingers, the juice running down my hand and arm.

“Yes.” His gaze follows the juice dribbling down my throat toward my breasts. “It sure is…”

“Sticky!” I laugh, showing him how my fingers don’t want to part.

“How’s your belly?” He watches me suck the pads of my fingers, looking for more of that sweetness. “Better?”

“That ache is gone.” I nod.

“Good. Let’s get you clean.”

“No baths!” My eyes widen and I know exactly what he’s thinking.

I put up a huge protest, but he ends up dragging me into the bathroom and barricading the door while the tub is running.

“Sam, trust me,” he says as I pace back and forth, looking over my shoulder at the rising water. “You’ll like it.”

“Fairies hate water,” I remind him as he gently gathers my hair and puts it up on top of my head with some sort of clip.

“You’re not a fairy anymore.” His lips brush the back of my neck and it makes me shiver.

For the first time, I notice the mirror over the sink and step forward to take a look. My hair is long and yellow, just like in David’s picture, piled up in curls on top of my head now. I look the same and different all at once, my features rounder, but just as delicate. My eyes are blue and bright, my mouth a pink study in surprise.

“I told you.” Zeph’s hands move over my shoulders and down my arms. “You’re beautiful.”

“Am I?” I feel his hands move to the curve of my waist, turning me toward the tub. “Please, I can’t get in there! My wings!”

I stop, looking over my shoulder, glancing in the mirror.

My wings!

They’re gone!

Now there’s just smooth pale flesh stretching over two nubs suggesting where they might once have been.

“In.” Zeph directs me, and I step gingerly into the water. “Sit.”

“This is nice!” I groan as I sink into the tub, my limbs relaxing the moment they touch the warmth.

“I thought you might like it.” He smiles, setting his suit coat aside and loosening his tie as he squats next to the tub. I watch, transfixed, as he rubs soap over a cloth.

“Ohhhh, Zeph,” I moan softly as he glides the cloth over my skin. “That’s…so…”

He cleans my chin and throat, but doesn’t stop there. The wet cloth moves down my chest, trailing wet, soapy warmth over my breasts and belly. I don’t want him to stop rubbing there, but he makes me lean forward so he can scrub my back.

“Stand.” He rinses me, using cupfuls of water, before asking me to get out of the tub. The weight of what’s happened is starting to hit me, and I can see it in his eyes, too, as he sits and pulls me between his knees, drying me gently with a towel.

“I want…” My voice trembles and I don’t know how to make it stop. I’ve watched it happen so many times, and when I made the request, I was sure I knew just what I was doing, but now…

“You don’t have to ask.”

He stands and pulls me into the circle of his arms, and the moment his mouth meets mine, I’m lost. There’s never been anything in the world as good as the feeling of his lips parting, his tongue touching mine. His hands move slowly down to the small of my back, pressing my body against his, and the long, lean feel of him against my softness is intoxicating.

“More!” I murmur against his mouth, my hands curling into fists against the back of his shirt, pulling and tugging, trying to find some way to remove it without breaking contact.

“Bed.” He pulls me with him, the shock of the cold air making me gasp as he tugs me through the door and into his bedroom. I reach for him, fitting my mouth to his, wanting more of this kissing thing. He obliges, kissing me down onto the bed as he fumbles with the buttons on his shirt.

When his bare skin touches mine, I break the kiss, staring at him in wonder. Then I tear at his shirt, yanking it off, and tug in frustration at his trousers. I feel him chuckling as he kisses my throat—oh that’s delightful! The little shivery sensations it sends through me make my breath come faster.

“Easy.” He takes my eager hands in his and presses them above my head, his mouth feathering kisses around mine. “Let me… okay?”

I nod. I don’t know what I’m doing anyway… I might as well
…

Oh for the love of everything magical, what is he doing!?

His mouth leaves wet trails down over my breasts. I stare at him, fascinated, as he takes the nipple between his lips, sucking gently. Whimpering, I can’t help but arch my back at the sensation. And I thought
kissing
felt good!

“Please!” I grab his head, the body I’m in squirming and wiggling and writhing all on its own, trying to get more or trying to get away, I’m not sure which. “Oh please!”

His mouth is soft but relentless, licking and flicking over the hardening surface of my nipple. It is tiny and pink and appears even smaller as it hardens under his tongue, the skin around it pursing and pressing it upward, as if asking for more. When his hand moves down my belly, I jump, eyes widening. There’s some sort of tension between my legs, an ache, a little like my heartbeat, which is coming faster in my ears.

“What—?” I can’t finish the sentence. I can’t think let alone speak. His fingers rub over the fuzzy mound between my thighs, parting the wet flesh. That ache seems to grow, and I’m wiggling again, his mouth still working on my breast, his fingers slipping in between that slippery seam.

“Oh!” The word is surprised out of my throat as he makes circles with his finger over and over. I know what the spot is, I know its name and location, but even knowing the way I’ve seen women respond when it’s touched, I never expected this! I’m moaning and spreading my legs and grinding up against his hand like I can’t control myself—and I can’t!

He kisses his way down, down, past that impossible navel, over the downy hair between my legs. I can barely breathe, my whole body trembling in anticipation. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen humans do this, seeing isn’t doing. I’ve never experienced anything like it, and the moment his tongue touches that spot, I’m lost.

I’m saying things, but I don’t know what the words are, moaning and rocking my hips up against his mouth. My hands reach for something to hang onto, because I feel like I’m floating, gripping the sheet in my fists and pulling hard. He’s making noises, too, and those just make it even better, the vibration in his throat sending delicious heat through my body.

I feel like I could let him do this forever, lost in the rising sensation, feeling something swelling in my middle. And then something happens. Something changes. My breath is coming so fast I can’t keep up. It’s like this body is ahead of me and it knows just where it’s going. Grabbing his head, I press him hard between my thighs, feeling something wonderful cresting there.

“Ooooohhhhhhhhhh!” I gasp and moan, the sensation beyond sensation, spreading outward in hot, pulsing waves, extending past the borders of my flesh, moving in delicious, shuddering waves. I can’t stop it and don’t want to. I want it to last and last, his face pressed between my thighs, making those sweet noises.

When he kisses his way back up my belly, I’m breathless and wet, the air cool over my skin. The weight of his body covering mine dispels that in an instant, and there’s something stiff and insistent pressing between my legs. I know what it is, of course, but nothing could have prepared me for the feel of it.