Page 84 of The Vampire's Thirst
“Ignore it.” His eyes narrowed.
Chiara took his hand and led him behind a building where they were out of sight.
He jammed her back to the wall hard enough to rattle her teeth, his fingers trailing along the throbbing vein in her neck. “A taste.”
Dax didn’t need blood. He’d taken more than enough on the battlefield, but she wouldn’t deny him. She swept her hair aside and angled her neck.
When his fangs pierced her flesh, she soared, floated on the dark cloud who was her vampire. He took life, but she gave it. The perfect symbiosis. With each draw, her body hungered for his. She ground her hips against his swollen shaft. She could so easily give in to him despite his blood-soaked clothes, menacing sounds, and murderous eyes.Hell. The battle heightened her own desires. But not here. Not now.
Besides, what Dax needed wasn’t frenetic sex brought on by the thrill of death and manic feeding. Chiara pulled back her hips. When he withdrew his fangs and licked the wounds, her hands stroked up and down his spine. Though nearly bereft of magic, she shot what little she had into her fingers.
His shoulders sank. His biceps relaxed. His hands loosened their painful hold on her. Dax bent forward, his nose rubbing through her hair. As he drew deep breaths, he calmed.
Her vampire held her close for some time, seemingly unwilling to release her. Then he stiffened and pushed her away. “What the hell are you doing? You were supposed to stay in the truck. I told you what to do if we didn’t return.”
She sighed, deciding the best way to meet Dax’s bossiness was snark. “I couldn’t remember it all. My little human brain doesn’t work as well as your big vampire brain.”
“Knock off that shit. When will you listen to me?”
“Let me think. How about never? Besides, I saved your life.”
His forehead wrinkled. “You downed the Amazon?”
“Yep.”
He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “Don’t ever risk your life for me.”
“Or what?”
He took a threatening step forward, but she wiggled her fingers. “Spell coming and it’s a doozy.”
Dax snarled through his gritted teeth.
Chiara ignored him to peel up his shirt sleeve to examine the bullet wound. “We did a good thing, right? We won.”
“No. Maybe we kept Arisen Dawn from taking out all the human soldiers, but enough of their assholes escaped to do some real damage. It wasn’t a clear win.” Dax brushed off her fingers and rolled down his sleeve. “It’s already healing.”
When she brushed her thumb across a smudge of blood on his cheek, she winced. “Did you see the bears and wolves?”
“Yeah. What was that about?”
“Fin. She’s Dr. Dolittle but with lipstick and boobs.”
That’s when she lost control of her body, her brain misfiring, her arms and legs jerking.
Chapter Eighteen
Jacecurled into a chair, her feet tucked under her while her thumb held her place inThe Path: The Words of the Warrior Ohngel as Recorded by the Cambion.Despite grumbling about the dust, smell, and cantankerous old bastard at the register, Tyr had rummaged through a Covenkirk bookstore to buy all five volumes. Rough Goth exterior aside, he was all heart, finding the time for her when he had so much going on.
Besides a trip to a bookstore, Tyr had squeezed in a couple rides with her on the back of his motorcycle after he presented Jace with her own bike leathers and boots. Surprising herself and the warlock, they were growing close fast. He was unlike anyone she had met, and his heart sang to hers.
Today he came to her place at the stronghold bloody and tired from fighting Arisen Dawn at some gateway to Earth. After a meal, a shower, pleasuring Jace, another shower, and a short nap, he prepared to leave again, but Kole ordered his warriors to rotate into on-off shifts. They were exhausted from skirmishes, training recruits around the clock, watching multiple portals for signs of rebel activity, and searching for Cerberus’s hidden garrison.
Now her new warlock lover lazed on the couch in her apartment, watching a football game with Ram, enjoying a brief but well-deserved rest.
A shout drew her attention as Ram jumped up, a beer bottle in his hand. “Bad call, ref. Pass interference, idiot.”
Tyr shrugged, peeling the label off his lager, a brew from the demon region of Knife’s Edge Ram had brought along. Her warlock was probably okay with the call because he was rooting for a different team. He was a Seahawks fan while Ram went for the 49ers. Or was it the other way around? Didn’t matter. They deserved to let off steam.
