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“Yeah…listen, tell the others to do whatever research they can today. When I wake up, we’ll figure out what to do about finding Gulakah. I’m certain he’s over here now.”
“You’re probably right. But go—it’s nearing dawn and you must be tired.”
I was. The rise of the sun didn’t just mean danger for vampires; it also meant that we were pulled into a dizzying sleep, one from which we could not awaken until dusk. The rise of the sun sent us into a deep somnambulance, and even a nuclear attack would not wake us. Mortals were safe from us during the daylight hours—there was no way we could attack them. Although ancient vampires like Roman could sometimes resist the pull for up to a half hour or so, even they were slaves to the light.
I raised her hand and kissed it. “Thank you, little mama. How’s your morning sickness?”
Iris’s morning sickness had struck her 24/7. She rolled her eyes. “Oh, simply lovely. I wanted to live in the bathroom. But it should ease off after the first three months. Or at least I keep telling myself that. Oh—before you go, I might as well tell you. I’ll tell the others after they’ve had a rest. Bruce and I are renting a trailer and putting it out back. It should be here today. We’ll live there until our house is built. I love this house, but there are just too many people living here now for comfort, and Hanna deserves her own room.”
I wanted to argue, but I knew she was right—the house was getting too crowded. And she and Bruce would be just steps away.
“That’s probably best. But we’ll miss having you in here, and you’d damned well better let Camille and Morio set up wards. With his help, her magic shouldn’t backfire. And now, I have to sleep.”
My eyes were beginning to close and I was finding it hard to ignore the magnetic pull of the sun. Part of me longed to peek out the window, to watch dawn break. I could, but I’d be cutting it close and there was just too much at stake to make a mistake.
I opened the bookcase in the kitchen and unlocked the steel door behind it. After locking it behind me, I descended the steps to my bedroom and stripped, dumping my dirt- and bloodstained jeans and turtleneck into the laundry basket, which sat just inside what passed for a bathroom.
Well, it was a bathroom, but I never needed to use the toilet. We’d installed it in case the others needed to use my lair for a panic room. But the shower—a wide walk-in affair—was perfect to stand in, hosing down after feeding or fighting. And even though I didn’t notice the hot or cold unless I chose to, I did enjoy feeling clean, and I liked standing under the spray of water.
I let the water wash over me as I lathered up with a raspberry-scented body wash. As I rinsed and toweled off, I thought about Roz and what had happened. There had to be some way to ensure that this remained the only time. I had to find something to keep me from ever being susceptible to charm again. Because I could not live with myself if I killed one of my friends—or one of my sisters.
With these thoughts on my mind, I slid under the green toile cover and turned out the light, and let the sunrise sing me to sleep as I hid in the dark.
Chapter 6
I found myself walking in a fog. Everywhere I looked, a mist rose around me and the world seemed hazy, all shades of gray. And then, as I adjusted to my surroundings, I began to run.
Long ago, Camille had asked me if vampires dreamed. I told her yes. We walked the Dream-Time in our sleep, locked away from the waking world, caught in our own private universe. We could never go out of body, but we could wander on the ether in a somnambulant daze. Sometimes we walked the past, reliving the days from our lives, and sometimes we walked the present.
But I had always welcomed the nights when I slipped into obscurity, when my mind shut down and left me to rest in the blessed darkness. It was a relief, to be free from the constant edge of hunger that lurked within me. For all vampires were predators, and we were all capable of turning into wild beasts, the monsters of legend and lore.
But tonight, I wanted to talk to Roman, and so I called out for him as I ran, searching for him on the Dream-Time.
A faint bluesy tune reached my ears, and I blinked. Roman was near, all right. He always made an entrance—one impossible to ignore. The music—I recognized it as the Gorillaz’ “Every Planet We Reach Is Dead”—swelled and I felt a rush of anticipation. Though I didn’t like to admit it, there were times I simply needed to be around other vampires who understood what it meant to be a bloodsucker.
And then, the mist parted, and I was standing in his parlor. Well, not really, but I might as well be. My mind had reached out and touched his. My spirit couldn’t leave my body, though I could travel physically to the astral. But my thoughts could project outward. It was a complicated matter, and I wasn’t even sure that I fully understood my own nature.
Whatever the case, there he was—all five eleven and one hundred sixty pounds of him. Roman had been turned by his own mother—Blood Wyne, Queen of the Vampires, thousands of years ago. He’d been in his prime, a warrior set to conquer, and he looked as good as he had the day he’d died, if not better—the vampiric glamour that we developed heightened our best attributes and muted our flaws.
“Roman.” My words caught in my throat as the repressed thirst and passion that had been aroused during my tryst with Roz flared to life again. Even though I was here only on a mental level, I could release it—safely.
He heard the hunger in my voice and a sly, cocky smile stole over his lips. He reached back and freed his hair from the leather thong that held it back in a ponytail and dropped it to the side, then opened his silk blouse and was standing bare-chested in black leather pants.
I swallowed hard and looked down. I realized I wasn’t wearing anything. I’d been running through the Dream-Time naked. But I didn’t care. All I cared about was Roman’s touch—and letting my predator free without worry that I’d hurt my partner. As he slowly reached down to unzip his pants, I tumbled into the fire.
We were together, growling, hissing, rolling across the floor like wild dogs. He’d taught me how to play rough while still keeping myself safe. I rolled on top of him, pinning him down by his wrists as I straddled his cock, plunging down on the shaft in a fury of lust. He broke free and reached up to massage my breasts, pinching the nipples as I rode him up and down like a carousel horse.
I let out a throaty moan and then we were up again, and he was carrying me, his hands under my butt, over to the glass doors. Without blinking, we were outside, in the rain and the mud as lightning streaked across the sky. Here, it was still dark. Here, we were safe, riding the howling winds that played around us.
He pinned me against a tree, thrusting into me again and again, cradling me with one hand while, with the other, he worked his finger into my ass. I let out a low moan as he fucked me, the bark of the cedar rubbing harshly against my back. But I didn’t care. All I wanted was the feel of him driving into me as I forgot my worries, forgot my fears, and gave in to the primal lust.
I growled again and bit him, deep, in the chest. He howled, not in anger or pain, but with joy, and bit me back, on the nipple, digging deep with his fangs. The exquisite agony rocketed through me and I swooned as he sucked both nipple and blood from my body, continuing to fuck me as hard as a ramrod, as hard as steel. But I could take it. I was made for the rough stuff, like he was.
His fingers reached down, pinching my clit, then rubbing me into a frenzy, first harsh, but then milder till he was tickling me. I wanted to scream, to tell him to stop—his touch was so light it was painful, but then the ecstasy took hold and I began to climb. I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist and we rolled to the ground, with his hips swiveling as he sought to go deeper, seeking out my core, the light deep within the darkness.
I latched my lips onto his and we kissed, fangs raking against each other. The feel of his tongue against mine, the smell of his scent, the silver of his eyes that had grown so pale with the millennia…he was the glittering man who had for so long been more than a man. And now, he drew me in, bathed me clean with his blood. In our fury, we created a sacred union—the dark gods rising, the son of a vampire queen and the daughter sired by a demented sadist.
And then, a shimmer beckoned, and I rode it high. It was almost like seeing the sun, and it engulfed us in a warm, brilliant glow as I willed it closer. Roman rode me faster, urgent now in his driving thrusts, and as he let out a long howl, his head drawn back, fangs out, he plunged them into my neck and I came, hard and high and spiraling into the light that we’d created together. Soaring on the orgasm, I felt him drive into me one last time, and rest, his cock pulsing in my cunt.
