Authors: Joey W Hill
Tags: #Vampires, #Horror, #Paranormal, #General, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Erotic Fiction, #Erotica, #Fiction, #Occult & Supernatural
Vampire Instinct (64 page)
When the carousel stopped, he slid off the horse and helped her down the same way he’d helped her on, only this time he held on to her, pressing her against the horse’s side as he kissed her, threading his fingers through her hair, following the lines of her throat with his thumbs, a slow stroke up and back, taking his time with it. Often, he’d let demand surge up, take over, but this time he just enjoyed feeling it. The way her body slowly melted into that fit with his, her arms around his waist, palms skimming up his back and holding on.
“Oy, now, got to make room for the next mob,” the operator called out from the center of the carousel. “Take your pretty sheila off to the strongman contest and impress her with a stuffed bear, mate.”
When Mal turned his head to give the man a wry look, Elisa blinked and waved, a huge smile splitting her face. “How ya going, mate? What are you doing halfway round the world?”
The meaty, bald specimen of a man responded in kind, his wide grin creasing his face all over, showing a couple missing teeth. “Well, blimey charlie, what’d ya know? A pretty sheila on my carousel, in truth. I hail from Sydney. Don’t know what the hell I’m doing all the way over here among the Yanks. Gone wobbly, I expect. That your husband?” Then he snorted before she could answer. “Course not. No woman I know kisses her husband like that. Get on with you now and enjoy the fun, but come back round in a bit on my break. I’ll shout you a lemonade if you’ll tell an old bastard all about home.”
He’d squinted hard in their direction, showing that while his hearing was impeccable, his eyesight wasn’t as good. He’d been able to make out the embrace, but the difference in their races apparently hadn’t registered, not enough to bring him up short or stifle his teasing. Of course, in Elisa’s optimistic mind, Mal saw an entirely different logic. Like maybe he was one of the good sorts to whom it didn’t matter. She’d met men in the bush who liked Aboriginal women, and while they mostly had an entirely different opinion of a white woman being with a blackfella, he might be one of the rare ones who didn’t hold it against a sheila who stepped across those lines. He was working at a carnival after all, a world usually populated by those on the fringes of society at best.
So, choosing to believe that instead of impaired eyesight, she gave him another affectionate expression and a wave. Then she took Mal’s hand and let him lead her off the carousel so they could load a new group.
As she glanced over her shoulder at the man, Mal caught the wistful look. “You miss home a lot, don’t you?”
“Yes. And no.” She looked up at him. “Dealing with so many strange and new things, it’s exciting and exhilarating and all that, but sometimes I get lonely for what’s familiar. The comfort of people who’ve known me awhile, the things I’ve always known. But I’ve already started feeling at ease at your place, with Kohana and the rest. It’s just hard. Changing, that is. Isn’t it?”
He decided to keep his answer to a nod, knowing exactly how she felt. But then he couldn’t help himself for asking. “Am I one of the new and strange things?”
“Definitely. Particularly the strange part.” Then, remarkably, she pushed him off balance and took off in the crowd, laughing over her shoulder at him, daring him to give chase.
He caught up, of course, grabbed hold of her, but before he could decide on his retaliation, she seized his other hand and pointed. “Look. Bicycles.”
There were an array of colorful bicycles that could be rented for people to ride them on the beach and boardwalks. “See the red, shiny one? Isn’t that fine? There were boys who used them in Perth for deliveries and such, and I always thought they’d be so lovely to run errands, but I never learned how to ride one. No boy to take me out on a ride.” She gave him a telling smile. “Do you know how to ride one?”
“I do.” It amazed him that she didn’t, but she wouldn’t have had much opportunity for that kind of play, or even learning something so utilitarian, not when her days had been filled with cleaning, laundry and helping the housekeepers of her respective employers. “Would you like to learn now?”
“Wasn’t I being rather obvious about it?” At her impish look, he gave her a pinch on her bottom that had her gasping and pushing away from him with an amused but disapproving look. “You’re not supposed to do that in public.”
“You’re not supposed to sass your Master. Before the night’s over, you might need another of those spankings you claim not to like.”
Her lashes lowered in a suitably demure look that was pointless when he saw the eagerness in her mind, hot visions that made him want to do exactly that, right now. But he curbed the impulse, because he really did want to give her this. There were two sides to her euphoria tonight. Part of her was celebrating their success at Marshall’s, but the other was staving off the knowledge she would soon have to let two of her fledglings go, trusting their lives to another. For her—for any parent—he expected it was an altogether terrifying thought.
He paid for a two-hour rental, boosted her on the handlebars and took them off to a quieter part of the causeway, a concrete canal area that gave them enough room to do what he intended. She enjoyed the ride, holding on to his hands on the bars, stretching out her legs and leaning back into the crook of his shoulder, the sea breeze caressing her face. She was laughing, trying to keep her skirt properly tucked in so the wind wouldn’t ruck it up, and when she turned her face into his jaw, her lips touched his throat, a provocative tease, more so because of its innocence. She was really, truly irresistible. He wondered if even Danny had ever seen this side of her. It was the first time he’d seen her wholly free of all her responsibilities, the young girl she actually was shining through in full, springlike force, infecting everyone they passed with smiles.
When they reached the canal area, he stopped the bike, letting her slide off the bars, and then patted the seat. “Your turn. If you do well, you can ferry
me
around on the handlebars.”
me
around on the handlebars.”
“Thank goodness I have a third-mark’s strength.” She grinned and straddled the seat, tucking her skirt beneath her. Her sundress was close-fitting and came modestly above the knee when she sat, so there’d be no danger of it rippling into the spokes. “All right, so I just put my feet on these pedals and push, right?”
“Right. But balance is the trick to riding a bike. It’s like when you balance on a fence and have to keep your weight centered. I’m going to hold on to the back as you get it. Keep the handlebars straight. I won’t let you fall, so don’t worry about that. That’s usually what makes it hard at first, a fear of falling.”
“Oh, I’ve fallen plenty of times. That doesn’t bother me. You just get up, dust yourself off and keep going.” Catching her bottom lip in her teeth, she put her feet on the pedals. It took a few tries, but then she was going, and he was moving with her, keeping the bike steady as the handlebars wobbled back and forth and she got the way of it. A couple of times the front wheel turned abruptly, but he was able to reach forward and steady it, trotting along beside her, letting go when she seemed to have it in hand again.
“I think I’ve got it,” she said at length, after they’d made several long passes up and down the area. Pausing, she put one foot on the ground to brace the bike. The canal had taken them into a tunnel, illuminated dimly by the streetlights outside of it, but with their enhanced sight, neither really needed them. She studied the graffiti painted along the inside walls. There were the expected curse words, but also protestations of love, a religious emblem or two, and artwork, done in broad colors and strokes.
“Look.” Elisa pointed. A lion, in bright yellow with a bristling orange mane, had his mouth open wide, fangs showing. Swirled around him in red letters was the motto, “I am Lion. Hear me roar.” His tail was threaded through the
O
in roar.
O
in roar.
“Can you imagine one of your lions roaring in here? The echoes would knock us down.”
“Do you miss my island?”
When she lifted her long lashes to him, her eyes thoughtful, he wasn’t sure why the answer was so important, such that he didn’t look for it in her mind, or question what it was about her expression that held him so still.
“Yes. Very much. More than I expected. I like being there, as I said. I mean, as long as you want me there.” She amended that with a nervous little smile, and this time he did look for the thought. Her life had always been transient. She was telling herself that she knew better than to consider any place a permanent home. He still wouldn’t let her quarter with the staff, after all.
“Elisa—”
“I want to do it now on my own,” she said. “I’ll be okay.”
He nodded, but watched carefully as she hopped forward, then put the other foot back on the pedal. He held on long enough for her to get some forward momentum, and then he let go.
Elisa laughed, a delighted, nervous sound. “Oh, this is wonderful. You can go as fast as you can pedal.” When she increased her speed, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep pace with her and pass as human in front of the others biking or crossing the concrete to reach the beach. He stayed at a jog, slowing to a walk as she got farther ahead. As he watched, she made long, wide laps around him, becoming more and more confident. She rocked her body back and forth, taking advantage of her third-mark balance to let the bike make a serpentine track.
When a man passed her on his bike with his arms straight out, she had to try that as well. Of course her bike hit a loose patch of concrete, and she went tumbling. Heedless of whether or not he appeared to be more than human, he was there in an instant, but his worry immediately dissipated at her wry laughter.
“Got too cocky, didn’t I? Guess there’s a reason they call it that, because it seems it’s mostly men who try that kind of foolishness before they’re ready.”
Mal squatted, lifting the bike off of her, and saw she’d scraped her knee. She beamed up at him. “It will be gone in a moment, but isn’t it marvelous? Mr. Collins’s son fell off his bike one day and had one just like that. He told me it was going to be an even bigger scab than the one that Tommy Saunders got. He was so proud of it.” Her laughter became a soft smile. “He still wanted me to bandage it up and kiss it, though. Boys are funny that way.”
“Yes, they are.” Staring at her, he felt so full of . . . feeling. It took his voice, but at the same time made him want to say all manner of incredibly foolish things. He’d never been happier in his life than right now, with her, like this. It was a most astounding thought. He had a good life at his sanctuary, no question, but he’d never felt so full of another person, so in need of them. He wanted to share that with her, but didn’t. He’d never opened himself up like that, as human or vampire, perhaps because he’d gotten too used to protecting himself from what might change. Like her, assuming nothing was permanent. But he did follow another, safer impulse.
“Well, seeing as it’s going to be gone in a few moments, we won’t need the bandage. But the kissing . . .” Bending over it, he placed his lips there, spending several discreet moments stroking his tongue along the abused area, sending a little quiver through her as he held her thigh beneath the dress hem, caressing bare flesh, feeling the heat between her legs increase. After giving the knee a thorough washing, taking away all the blood, he made her laugh by pretending to spit out bits of gravel. Then he pressed a single kiss to the center.
“You ripped your hem. I owe you a new dress.”
“Seeing as you bought it, and I ruined it, I think it’s just the opposite.”
“Yellow isn’t my color. And you look much better in that bodice.”
She giggled at him, then put her hand over her mouth, an admonishment not to give herself to such youthful silliness. “Well,” she said at length, “if anything is owed, I think the bicycling lessons were a fine trade.”
Abruptly, her expression changed, her eyes becoming large and deep, her mouth soft. “I want to speak to the carousel operator, and then I want to go back to Lord Marshall’s. I want to pack our bags and go back to the island tomorrow. I want to be in your bed with the canopy, and all the sounds of the lions, leopards, cheetahs and cougars. I want to see Jeremiah and the others, and give them the good news. Will you take me there?”
Despite her earlier words, she didn’t say, “Will you take me home?” He was a damn fool for wishing she had. She understood how things were. She always had, always would, and he was supposed to appreciate that in her, not want her to get soft and sloppy over him. He’d told her once they got the fledglings resolved, he would ask her again if she wanted to be his third-mark, if she wanted to stay with him, and after that all choices would be his. But looking at her, he didn’t know if he’d ever ask the question. She fairly oozed commitment and family. Even if her answer was yes, it would be because of that generous heart and deeply submissive nature. It wasn’t what she truly wanted. He couldn’t take that away from her.
“Yes, I’ll take you there.” He helped her up. As she brushed against his body, he held back the urge to crush her against him, give her a much more heated kiss, one that would erase all those reasonable thoughts. It had to be the magical stardust of the fair, making the impossible possible, and the unlikely far too appealing.
She couldn’t afford to have her heart broken again, he reminded himself. She didn’t have the emotional distance necessary to be a vampire’s servant. Kohana had told him that in his usual impertinent, blunt way, and Mal knew the gruff Indian had told her the same, in less direct terms. The way she’d handled herself at Grant’s had proven it. Her natural submission had gotten her through it, but it had torn something up in her, her body betraying her heart.
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