The Turning Kiss (6 page)

A painful yanking, as if the sea itself was trying to tear his body apart. Then he was pulled through the water, up and up. He gasped as he drew air into his lungs. And saw the face of his rescuer. Beautiful. Glowing.

She looked like a Goddess, terrible and beautiful. She must be Freyja herself.

But then she smiled, and he saw teeth gleaming and sharp. The teeth of a wolf. And knew she was something else.

Chapter Four

When Calam woke it was dark outside the tall, paned windows of the luxurious room, the heavy velvet draperies pulled aside to give a view of the night sky through a film of delicate sheers. Inside, a tall lamp burned, casting dim, golden light and shadows. Beside him, Ilana’s body was warm. He turned onto his side and found her awake.

“Watching me sleep again?” she asked him, her smile lazy. Utterly seductive.

“You’re lovely when you sleep,” he told her truthfully.

“It seems you’ve gotten to see a lot of that these last days.”

“I don’t mind. There are worse things than to watch a gorgeous woman sleep. Like Sleeping Beauty, you are.”

“Except that she was a virgin, wasn’t she?”

“In some of the tales, perhaps.” He grinned. “I much prefer this version.”

“Where are the others? Do you know?” she asked. “Luka and Konstantine. Ever.”

“Gone. It’s difficult to say. They’ll return when they want us again.”

“How long did I sleep this time?” she asked him, stretching, her arms over her head. He loved to see her like this. Her blonde waves mussed, her dark blue eyes heavy lidded. With sleep or passion.

“I’m not certain. I slept myself. But I think it was yesterday we were with them, so all day, all night last night and into evening again.” He stroked her cheek, her skin like satin under his fingertips. He felt her shiver. Loved that she did, just from him touching her face. “How do you feel? Are you well?”

“Yes. Wonderful. And…”

“What is it, Ilana?”

She paused, bit her lower lip, her white teeth coming down on that plump, pink flesh. “I was going to say that I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“So am I,” he told her. “I’m glad we have a chance to talk, just the two of us.”

“Ah. What about?”

“Well, it’s a strange thing, this life, isn’t it? It’s not often I really get to know anyone very well before they’re either Turned, or become too old to be eligible, or…sometimes they aren’t people I want to do more than fuck, anyway. Not that they’re bad people, any of those who come here. But there isn’t always a connection that goes past the physical chemistry. And sometimes even that’s fleeting.”

“But you…feel some connection with me?”

“Yes,” he answered simply. He didn’t see any reason to deny it. “Don’t you, Ilana? It seems so to me.”

She was looking at him carefully. He could see the wonder on her face. Was amazed again at that strange sense of intrinsic guilelessness in her, given where they were, the things that had brought them together. Vampire sex. The hard BDSM play they both indulged in. The choice to give up their human lives in the search for something darker. Something most people found frightening, abhorrent. And he was in awe once more at how her walls were coming down. How different she was there, in bed with him, with their vampire lovers, than she appeared to be to those who didn’t know her. Not that he blamed her. But it was like some small epiphany. Miraculous. Beautiful.

“I do feel a connection, Calam. I don’t want to admit it. It seems…counter to the reasons for us coming to the Midnight Playground. We’re both searching for immortality, for a connection with the vampires.”

“Yet here we are.” He picked up her hand, lifted it to his lips and brushed them across the back of her fingers. Felt her shiver with pleasure. “And if we are going to serve our beautiful vampires together, if we are going to fuck, to sleep and dream together, then perhaps it’s good that we might also be friends.”

Why had he said that? He didn’t want to be friends. He wanted…for her to be
his
. But that was impossible. Wasn’t it?

“Friends who fuck.” She laughed.

“What? Have you never had one of those?”

It would do for now. At least he could have that much.

“I don’t suppose I have. But I don’t mind starting with you. In fact, I rather like the idea.”

He grinned, kissed her hand again. “I’m glad. I think maybe it comes of us both having come from the brothel life, this connection between us.”

“Maybe. Although you didn’t work it, did you? I mean, you got out before…”

“Yes. I took to the streets before the old madam could sell my virginity.”

“I was not so lucky,” she said. He watched a shadow pass over her lovely features, but just as quickly it was gone. “But never mind that. It’s not who I am now.”

Calam still held her hand. He pulled it close to his chest, wrapping her fingers tightly in his. “No, but it makes up who you are, Ilana. I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t be. It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It does to me. That someone hurt you that way.” He couldn’t keep the fierceness from his voice. From burning in his chest. He felt at that moment as if he’d kill anyone who hurt her.

“Ah, Calam, please don’t.”

But it was too late. Tears burned at the back of Ilana’s eyes as emotion flooded her. She shook her head, tried to shake the tears away, helpless over them in as long as she could remember. Years. What was it about him that brought all of this out?

Calam didn’t say another word, just pulled her into him, gathering her in his strong arms, tucking her head under his chin. They stayed that way for a while, until the heat of his body began to soothe her, allowing her to relax. Soon that heat shifted, turned into something darker, more primal. Comfort turned to titillation, the scent of man and soap drifting in with each breath.

Wordlessly, he pressed on her shoulder until she was lying on her back. He held himself over her, propped on one elbow. With his free hand he explored her body, tracing her collarbone with his fingertips, the rise of her breasts, the curving sides. Then her rib cage, the valley of her stomach, the edge of her navel. All the time he was silent, reverential, his brows drawn together. She watched his face—the sheer, male beauty of it. He made her breathless.

By the time he reached the apex of her thighs, she was wet, needy. She sighed as she opened for him, and his hand slipped lower. His fingers went into her slick heat, sliding between the folds. She sighed again, pleasure shimmering over her skin, trembling in her sex, her belly, her muscles. He pressed his thumb on her clitoris, began to circle. And his silvery gaze never left her face.

There was something lovely in the way he touched her. Adoring. But there was more to it than that. Something completely unfamiliar, yet something she felt she
should
know. Something she had been missing, perhaps.

“Calam,” she whispered. “I need you.”

“Yes…”

He rolled on top of her. Her legs opened, wrapped around him as he slipped inside her, his cock thick, heavy, filling her instantly.

He moaned, his breath warm in her hair. His arms went around her, wrapping her waist, holding her tight as his hips began to pump. One surging thrust, then another. All of it liquid and lovely. Pleasure warm and fluid, like honey in her veins.

He lowered his mouth to her throat, kissed her there. Sweet, tender kisses at first. Then, as desire built, he raised his mouth to hers, opened her lips with his, and took her over.

She felt that shift the moment it happened. It was no less sweet. But it was clear that
he
was in command, his body setting the pace, which was quickening moment by moment. His hips plunged. He drew out, then plunged again, burying his cock deep inside her. She held on to him, helpless against the pleasure that was blossoming, starting in her sex, moving through her in long, tremulous waves. The heat grew more intense as he pumped into her. His breathing in her ear was harsh and rasping.

“Gods, Ilana. I’m going to come. Come with me.”

Oh, she loved to hear him ask that of her. A command, yet he was pleading with her at the same time. Her sex clenched in pleasure. And as he thrust hard, harder, she came. Came apart. Sensation roared through her body like a white light, like thunder. And as she cried out, he came, too, calling her name.

“Ilana, Ilana… Gods!”

She was still shivering with her climax—it never seemed to end—and Calam held her in his arms, kissed her hair, her cheeks, her mouth. She didn’t know what had just happened to her. To them. Between them. But it left her chest aching with an emptiness that begged to be filled.

By Calam.

She didn’t even know what she wanted from him.

She had come to the Midnight Playground knowing exactly what she wanted. The vampires. Eternal life. But being with Calam was changing everything somehow. She no longer knew what she wanted. Or, she doubted what she’d known. Because right now, the only thing she could think of was Calam. Her human lover. A man whose existence was finite. A man she could lose. Grieve over.

Never again
.

She took a deep breath, tried to calm herself. After all, he was there with her, holding her still. She could feel his every breath. Could smell the scent of his skin all around her.

Calm yourself.

She pulled in another breath, along with the scent of him. Of sex. Of the two of them together.

She couldn’t lose what she didn’t have for more than this moment. There were no promises hanging in the air. Just the two of them, the sex, in this unusual situation. A situation in which they both ultimately wanted something neither could give the other—the gift of eternal life that could only come from their vampire lovers.

Perhaps Luka or Konstantine would offer her the Turning Kiss. And if they did, she would have to leave Calam behind in the human realm. Unless they offered it to him as well.

She knew the rules—no new vampire could Turn a human until they had been immortal for ten years. By then, Calam would be too old to qualify.

The tears were back, making her throat tight. She pressed her head to Calam’s broad chest, listened to the beating of his heart. And for the first time, life seemed suddenly precious to her. Because it was Calam’s life she considered.

What was happening to her? She couldn’t figure it out. But as Calam’s arms tightened around her, and he kissed her hair, she let herself forget the unfamiliar ideas wandering through her mind. Let herself drift with him, while the moon rose high in the night sky, and she dreamed of the two of them, lying in each other’s arms in a summer field of harvested wheat.

When she woke Luka was there, sitting in a plush, high-backed damask settee, drinking a glass of wine. He was dressed in his black leather pants and a leather vest, leaving his leanly muscled chest and arms bare. His skin gleamed a pale gold in the light of a lamp and the misty moon glow coming through the curtains. Calam was sleeping beside her, his breathing even.

“Ah, you are awake. Did you sleep well?” Luka asked her.

“Yes, very well.”

“Being well used, well loved, always makes one sleep easily.”

“Yes.” She smiled, remembering Calam making love to her.

Making love.

When had she ever thought of sex in those terms?

She pushed her hair from her face. She had been too easily rattled in the last few days. Too emotional. She wasn’t used to it.

“The two of you have something special together,” Luka remarked.

“I…I don’t know…”

The vampire smiled, his eyeteeth catching the lamplight. “I do. I could read you even if I were human. You and Calam.”

“Luka…”

“It’s all right with me. With Konstantine. We are still considering you. Both of you.”

“What?”

His smile broadened. “Come and sit with me, Ilana. We will talk.”

She sat up, shivered a little in the cool air as the sheet slid from her body, as she moved away from Calam’s heat. Luka was at her side instantly, in that graceful speed only the immortals possessed. He was holding a silk robe in a deep garnet red, slipping it over her shoulders. He led her back to the settee.

“Do you need food?” he asked her as she settled onto the cushions. “Something to drink?”

“Wine would be lovely.”

He picked up the decanter sitting on a gorgeously carved side table next to him, poured some of the dark red liquid into a crystal glass, handed it to her. “It will help restore you. Ever keeps the very best here in the private quarters, and he has it infused with herbs for strength.”

“Thank you.” She sipped, tasting the faint earthiness of the herbs beneath the smooth, rich flavor of the wine.

“You have questions,” Luka said, drinking from his own glass.

“Yes. I don’t know where to begin. I have to say, I’m a bit…stunned.”

“That we would want you to stay with us?”

“Yes.”

Luka leaned forward, his body graceful, his metallic gaze mesmerizing. “You forget that we see more than the things you say, what you might do. I felt your great capacity for empathy, Ilana, from the first moment I touched you. I felt how my love for Konstantine, and his for me, affected you. This is a requirement in any we choose for companions.

“I understand your need to appear so cool on the surface,” he went on. “But I see beyond the surface. Konstantine sees even more. And he understands you perhaps even more than I do. He knows pain, in a way I never will. In a way he will not discuss with anyone. Not even me, which I accept. Konstantine can be difficult, I know. He appears closed on the surface, but he has an enormous capacity to love. He keeps it tightly wrapped, like the precious gift it is. He presents himself as calm, powerful. Distanced from everyone. And he is all of those things. But he is also more than that.”

“I have that sense of him, Luka. I do. Although he still frightens me a bit. I can feel his age. I can feel…the force of it. Not quite as much as I do with Ever, but still…I can’t help but be in awe of him. Of them both.”

Luka nodded. “As is their due. Konstantine has lived for five hundred years. Ever’s age is perhaps twice that. Yet they are still feeling creatures, Ilana.”