Page 2 of Quintus

“I’m sorry I can’t let you bite me, but I promise this is enough.”

Quintus growled, calming for but a second as the female’s soft hand caressed his scruffy cheek. Her oddly familiar touch soothed his pain.

“Here you go…I’m sorry. I know it’s better for you when you bite, but this is the best I can do.”

The fresh scent of her blood registered seconds before the syringe touched his tongue. As his lips clamped around the hard plastic, draining the blood, his eyes locked on hers. She wore a sincere, concerned expression as she fed him. His beautiful savior cared.

He blinked, startled as her eyes flashed to a light shade of purple, her hair blonde. Is she wearing glamour? Quintus resisted the urge to speak and tamped down his curiosity, concentrating on healing. As her glorious essence rejuvenated his being and her vitality threaded through him, strength fired through his limbs.

Sated, he spat away the tube. His heart pounded, every cell in his body awakened. Quintus’ eyes flashed to the ceiling, his thoughts clear. He clenched his muscles, snapping the chains off as if they were made of tissue paper. Feral, he lunged for his enticing savior. She ran for the door, but he was too fast, caging her against a cold stone wall. With his legs straddling hers, his cheek brushed her silken locks.

“Who are you?” he growled.

“My name is Ga…Gabby,” she responded.

Quintus sniffed along her neckline, the scent of jasmine wafting into his nostrils. Delicate but strong, her palms flattened onto his bare chest. “How did you do this? I want to know now.”

“My blood…please, I should get out of here,” she told him.

“You’re a witch?” Quintus dropped his fangs, and brushed his lips over her collarbone. Her pulse pounded in his ears. Healed with her potent blood, his body thrummed with power.

“Yes,” she responded.

His instincts warned him of deception, but something about her piqued his interest. His tongue darted onto her skin, tasting the lovely beauty. She smelled delicious, and he yearned to sink his teeth into her creamy flesh. Although he’d sought to scare her, he detected her arousal.

“I don’t give you permission to bite me.” Defiance flashed in her eyes.

“I didn’t bite you now, did I?” The firm peaks of her nipples brushed against his abdomen, and his cock stirred. “Hmm…your response, though…” Quintus closed his eyes briefly and breathed, regaining control.

“Let me go,” she sighed as his lips brushed her ear. “They’re coming. The others. They’ve sensed you’ve awakened. If they find me here…please…I can’t stay.”

“This isn’t the place. But whatever game you’re playing, little one, I’m not simply letting you go.”

Footsteps and whispers echoed in the catacombs that connected the underground blood club to the crypt. His renewed energy was likely felt by every vampire in New Orleans. He could have cared less who found him, because he’d kill them if they so much as looked at him the wrong way.

“We’re leaving,” he growled. Without discussing it, he made the decision to keep her. Her palatable fear of being discovered drove him to protect her. She might be a liar but she’d saved him nonetheless.

“If you just let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone,” she pleaded.

“Ah, bella. That’s not how this works. You may have saved me, but it is I who call the shots.”

“What?” she asked, her wide eyes on his.

“Brace yourself. This will only take a minute,” he warned.

Quintus heard the faint sound of her cry as he dematerialized them out of the church. He inwardly laughed, delighted at the surge of power that pounded throughout his veins. Whatever she was, he’d find out her secrets.

“You’re okay,” he whispered as she shook in his arms. Quintus thought it odd she struggled with the transition, given that witches easily adjusted to materialization. With the flavor of her potent blood imprinted in his mind, he suspected she was a hybrid. She moaned, her fragile body clutched in his embrace. “Ah, bella. Your magick is strong. Why does a witch suffer like this?”

“My magick…I gave you my blood,” she responded, her voice soft.

“Witches transform. But you…you’re not witch?”

“I am,” she protested. “My powers, they’re different.”

“Hmm? Should I call a coven?”

“No. No witches!” Her voice grew loud in protest. “No!”