Authors: Chris Lange
“I’ve never believed in that legend until today.”
Their eyes met, truly connecting for the first time. Shuddering with a sudden feeling of dread, Liv swallowed to ease the tension in her throat. Yet when she heard his statement, the itchy lump sank all the way down to her stomach.
“You are the Bringer of Death.”
Chapter Four
“What are you talking about?” Despite Liv’s usual cool composure, the words dropped out of her mouth like pellets of lead.
“You are the enemy of my race. The One and Only who has the power to wipe us all out.”
Somewhere during the ride back home, the man must have lost his mind. Either that or the silver had had more effect than just killing him.
“You’re mad! How can you say such things? I don’t have any power, I’m just a woman. And guess what…” she added as the thought crossed her mind. “I see my face in the mirror every day, and I’m not invisible.”
Rogan had either fallen deaf or pretended not to hear her protests because he kept going, his intakes of breath coming less and less frequently.
“You’re invisible to vampires. It means your blood has no category, no scent. Of course they can see you, but they are unable to smell you. If you were standing in front of an army of vampires, they wouldn’t take a second glance at you. Only the best hunters could apprehend your true nature.”
As he talked, he stroked her hand with his fingers. She reckoned that he was trying to soothe her, or help her the only way he could.
“That’s why I stayed away from you in the parking lot. I couldn’t recognise your smell. It confused me at first because each human has a blood type and a scent. You didn’t seem to. It was all totally unexpected and intriguing. I had to think fast. I don’t know why this old legend popped into my mind, but it did, and I realised I had touched the Bringer of Death. Beyond a doubt, I was going to die on the spot.”
“Stop calling me that!”
He had gone mad. The poisonous silver must have insinuated into some hidden corners of his brain, rendering him delirious. Whatever he believed in, he had no right to dump his problem on her, and she couldn’t listen to any more of those lies. She might be gullible at times, but not enough to embrace the dying vampire’s delusions.
“That’s enough! I don’t want to hear—”
She didn’t finish her sentence, for Rogan had passed out again. Unmoving as a stone, face ashen, his body lay rigid.
Holy mackerel, he was dead. No, no, he couldn’t be dead, not him. He was too strong, too good-looking to die. That wasn’t meant to be. It could not be. And somehow the fault was hers. Dear Lord, it was all her fault.
Tears brimming in her eyes, Liv gently brushed his hair, her fingers tracing the bridge of his nose, the line of his mouth. Like a priestess from dark ages, she prayed.
Come back, please come back to me
.
From the core of her being, something shifted—a colossal force of nature seeking freedom, desperate to be let out. Liv stayed still. She listened to the deep, regular beat of her heart, the slow pulse of her blood, the long whisper flowing in her veins. She kept quiet and expectant while a sudden rush lashed out its power. Then pure instinct took over.
She applied her hand to Rogan’s wound. Eyes shut, focused on a rising, unknown sensation, she felt the force bolting into his body, a tremendous energy penetrating his every fibre. Time stopped. Dizziness loomed over her. Tiredness opened its jaws.
All at once, the force retreated. Worn out and quivering, Liv unstuck her hand. Rogan’s wound had disappeared. She saw skin, intact and healthy, through the bullet hole in his clothing.
She had just healed a vampire.
* * * *
The healing had taken a toll on her. She remembered dragging herself to the armchair, and she must have fallen asleep at some point because she opened her eyes at the sound of his voice.
“You’re so beautiful. What’s your name?”
“Liv.”
Fully awake, the vampire stared at her. She straightened up, glad that she had only lit a small lamp on the table.
“How do you feel?”
“I feel fine.”
Of course he did. After the ‘what in the hell is happening?’ treatment she had given him, death had nothing to do with him any longer.
“Maybe you should rest a little.”
“I don’t need to rest. What I need…” In mid-sentence, he stood up with graceful ease to bring Liv to her feet. “What I need is this!”
As he took her face in his hands, a fiery tremor of desire went through her. She held her breath, waiting for the first intimate touch, the first caress of passion. But he made no move.
He just held her, his dark golden-freckled eyes drilling into hers. Under that unperturbed stare, her heart missed a beat, her insides froze. So close to his masculinity, she felt herself craving for his touch, for the raw feel of him. Still he made no move.
Eyes locked, infused by a hungering thirst, she suddenly relinquished every scrap of rationality she had ever possessed. Human and vampire joining as one? Well, so be it! Ever so slowly, he drew nearer, a fraction of a move—a tantalising instant born from mutual lust.
His lips touched hers, gentle as the soft brush of a bird’s wing. When he pulled back, the longing for him twisted her guts. Frustrated, imprisoned in his embrace, she wished for more, so much more.
His sensual gaze fixed on her. He put his mouth over hers again. She wanted this second to last forever, wanted to melt against his unyielding body. But he started kissing her, his lips awaiting hers, as if in search of her taste. So strong, alien, and unexpected, the sensation took her by surprise, causing her to sway on her feet.
Then she felt his tongue parting her lips, entering, penetrating her mouth. His deep caress shook her whole world. Seemingly impervious to her intense emotion, he reached inside her, opening her up, as if he had all the time in the universe. As if nothing else existed, he kissed her, bringing her towards an abyss of unknown territories.
He dug his hands into her hair, immobilising her head. Heat swelled up in her. Long, hot shivers of excitement blazing hard, her wanton mouth making love with his, their tongues entangled, ensnared. They licked and sucked until she couldn’t stand it any longer. Until she thought she would surely faint from hunger. Passion was becoming their master. Passion was enslaving them, and there was no turning back from it.
He drew away from her.
“Liv!”
Her name on his lips brought her back to reality, and it felt like dropping from heaven. Although he stood inches apart from her, she felt empty, alone in a life without his touch.
“No, don’t stop.”
“Liv, I must!”
She lifted her arms behind his neck to press her body against him. A dark ripple crossed his eyes, a pitch-black shadow from another realm. In spite of his denial, Rogan clutched her with vigorous arms, halting her breath. Whispering through clenched teeth, he looked torn. “You have no idea what you’re asking. You don’t know what I could do to you.”
And he kissed her, the rough kiss of a man swept by desire. He probed her mouth with his tongue, creating vivid, electrifying vibes she couldn’t have thought possible. He was hard against her, captured in the intensity of the moment, his arms feeling like steel around her. Yet she sighed when his hands found the soft curves of her body under her clothing.
He grunted as if her moan unlatched something wild in him. Without a word, he got rid of their sweaters. Muscles tensed, he looked about to go in search of the sensation of bare skin, the feel of her fullness against his chest. But he didn’t take her in his arms, and she felt naked, utterly exposed to him.
Seemingly drowning himself in her eyes, he traced the round contours of her shoulders with deft fingers, slipping down her sides, reaching the firmness of her stomach, smoothly rising up to her breasts. She breathed heavily, a scant flush of modesty warming her cheeks.
Standing in the centre of the living-room, only shadowed by the pale glow of the lamp, the vampire caressed her. He appeared riveted to her body, and deaf to anything that wasn’t her.
She moaned when he touched her nipples with tender, slow motions. Pressing, rolling, releasing. Twisting, wrapping, releasing. It was bliss and torment. She had no grip on herself, no handrail to hold onto.
A voracious fever gripped her, carrying her into the furthest recesses of her womanhood. Under his lascivious, slow fingers, her heart leapt, her blood ran, her intimacy pulsed. Right up to the point where she thought she would dissolve, possibly turn to melted cream.
Driven by instinct, she flattened against him, brushing her breasts against his bare chest. Her mouth found his, kissing him with flaming eagerness. He enfolded her tightly in his arms, their lips attuned, their tongues entwined. It seemed the kiss would never cease, never come to an end.
But Rogan recoiled. As abruptly as he had embraced her and pressed her hard against his body, he let her go. Although his eyes were cloudy, he spoke in an unwavering voice.
“We can’t do it!”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“We can’t. That’s all you need to know.”
His implacable tone didn’t leave any room for hesitation. Baffled and speechless, Liv stared at his icy, perfect face, realising his decision had been made. She had never felt so cold.
Chapter Five
Getting dressed had been quick, laced with a good dose of embarrassment on Liv’s part. Standing half-naked before the man who’d almost stolen her thoughts, then pushed her away didn’t call for self-confidence. But what on earth had made him change his mind? Something wrong with her? How could he kiss her so profoundly, then turn away in the middle of it? Could he not see the woman in her instead of the Bringer of Death?
Sure, that had to be the reason. Rogan had lost himself in her for a brief moment, but awareness of their dangerous situation had dawned on him. Even if she had healed him, he still thought of her as some kind of enemy. For him. For his race. But what could she do about that? As much as she desired it, there might not be a way out.
Liv switched the lights on in the kitchen, feelings of anger and frustration washing over her. In some way, he had let her down, and she needed compensation. Maybe a sweet, hot coffee would ease her bruised emotions. Opening the nearest cupboard, she got her favourite mug out. Intending to heat it up in her new microwave oven, she was pouring cold coffee into the mug when she heard a light shuffle behind her.
“Liv.”
His low voice didn’t hold any trace of embarrassment. When she turned round, he leaned against the kitchen door, looking at her, at the way she moved.
“I have to leave.”
“Sure, go.” The need to brag pulled stronger than reason. Deep down, though, she already missed his presence, already knew she wouldn’t be able to forget him—nor his hands on her body.
“I know you’re angry.”
“Angry? Is that what you think? Well, let me tell you something. You’re nothing but a selfish, arrogant brute, and I regret the minute I laid eyes on you. Hang on! Actually, I didn’t. I was too busy fighting for my life, wasn’t I? So, Mister Vampire, do you still think I’m angry?”
She hadn’t meant to lash out at him, but too late the words blurted out of her mouth, unleashed by her fury. “Then you come in here, in my home, waiting for what? For me to save your life? And guess what? I do!”
“Thank you for that.”
Ashamed of having desired him way more than he had desired her, furious with his cool composure, she didn’t even hear him. “What else did you expect? A woman in your arms to complete a good day’s work? Well, I almost did that too, didn’t I?”
“Shush, you aren’t—”
“Don’t you shush me,” Liv shouted, pointing her finger straight at him. “Don’t you dare shush me. I’m so exasperated with you right now I could easily become that Bringer of Death of yours. Come to think of it, I’m positive I’d enjoy that. Please, don’t tempt me!”
“Liv, calm down.”
She ignored his attempt at peacemaking, as well as the palms of his hands raised towards her. She’d been bragging again, yet her vivid feeling of betrayal rapidly turned into fury. She had no intention of stopping there. He might be a deadly vampire, and he might be able to kill her in a wink—however, she couldn’t care less. She needed to vent.
“If I decided to destroy you, there’s nothing you could do about it. Because I am your greatest enemy, and you’re afraid of me.”
Hearing her words somehow conferred on them a significance. The brief spark in his eyes also told her she had hit dead centre. Without pause, she sneered at him. “You, Rogan, the best hunter of your race, are afraid of me!”
In two strides he stood in front of her, gripping her hair with one of his hands. A finger under her chin, he lifted her face to his, and kissed her so completely that her anger vanished.
All she could feel were his lips raking hers, his tongue invading her mouth, his fervour so agonisingly delicious she felt on the verge of fainting. He wasn’t afraid of her in the least, never had been. He was a fighter, he was a survivor. Dominating her, violating her tender mouth, he led her to an awareness of her true desires, a carnal place she now longed to uncover.
Too soon, Rogan released her. Out of breath, limbs trembling, Liv put a hand on the kitchen table to catch her balance. For now she could only look at his dark, menacing eyes.
“Be careful, Liv. Don’t go too far with me!”
His hungry tone sounded almost like the snarl of a wolf. He had said something similar to Khord just before cruelly smashing his face to the ground. Yet seeing him moving like an animal, lithe and untamed, Liv couldn’t help feeling aroused, even more so as he uttered a simple statement.
“You saved my life. I am grateful for that, but I’m warning you. I will not take another scolding.”
“Don’t you like me a little bit?” she murmured like a child, big tears brimming in her eyes.
All thoughts of rebellion left her. She couldn’t fathom his character or his motives, and she was tired of being left in the dark. Up to now, she had always taken pride in being a strong, determined woman. Now her world had gone down the drain, and she was left with a vague sense of fragility. Wiping a tear under her eye, probably seeing her vulnerability, Rogan smiled for the first time. And the glory of that smile touched her heart.