All Hell Breaks Loose (17 page)

Julius watched the sway of her hips as she strode away from him.  She moved with such fluid grace that he found it hard to drag his eyes from the sight of her retreating form.  He was glad of his years as a Vampire tonight.  It had taken strength he didn’t know he had to keep a calm façade while watching her interactions with the new
Werewolf
.  He was acutely aware of something she seemed oblivious to.  The man was head over heels in love, or lust, or both, with her.  It was obvious in every line of his body, the way he watched her when she wasn’t paying him any attention, the way his face changed when she spoke to him.  It also hadn’t escaped his attention that Gabi didn’t hold back from this man like she did with many others.  She was well versed in the art of keeping men at a certain distance.  He’d seen her do it often enough with his own men, as well as her peers and staff in the SMV.  He doubted she was aware of the difference in her reactions to the stuntman.

To make matters worse, he was painfully aware that she would be able to have a more normal relationship with the
Werewolf
than she could ever have with him.  He was restricted to the darkness, irrevocably tied to his responsibilities to his Clan and to the City.  He was terribly afraid that he couldn’t be what she needed him to be, what she deserved him to be.  The wave of possessive jealousy that swamped him when he thought about her with the other man nearly tore a growl from him.  If he made the wrong decision now, he may regret it for centuries.  A slight
movement to his left had him tensing, until he realised it was Fergus coming out of the shadows.  The stout Scottish Vampire with a hideous scar running across his face was one of the people Julius trusted most.  He’d been with Julius almost as long as Alexander had.  He was a man who lived his Vampire life to the full, but also one who carried great sadness in his heart.  This man had known the immensity of pure love and the vastness of absolute loss.  He followed Julius’s gaze as Gabi disappeared into the dark.

“If
ye’ll
pardon me
speakin
’ frankly, Sire,” he drawled in his outlandish Scottish b
rogue
.  Julius had never known him to be anything but frank.  “I’d not be
tryin
’ to second guess that lass’s mind. 
Nor
tryin
’ to make decisions
fer
’
er
.
It’ll only be
blowin
’ up in
yer
face.”  He paused a moment allowing Julius to see his earnestness.  “Don’t cut
yerself
off from a chance at happiness, Sire.  It
be
such a rare and
fleetin
’ thing, don’t be
throwin
’ it away too easily.  If
ye’re
goin
’ to be
fightin
’
fer
anything in this life, it should be the chance at a bit o’ happiness.” He dropped a large, gnarled hand onto Julius’s shoulder for a moment and then strode away into the darkness, leaving the Master Vampire to his thoughts.

The door to Trish’s room was open, and Jonathon was sitting in one of the chairs beside the bed.  Trish was propped up in the bed, looking tired but calm and composed.  The large dressings, which had been covering her wounds, were gone, and angry, puckered scars showed just above the top of her hospital gown.  So there it
was,
the good news and the bad.

Gabi entered the room first as Derek hung back, unsure of his welcome.  Jonathon stood at their arrival and gave Trish a quick, reassuring smile.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he told her.  “I’m not far if you need anything.”  He left, giving Derek a pat on the shoulder.

“Hi, Trish, I’m Gabi,” she told the younger woman.

“Hi, Gabi, it’s nice to finally meet you.  Derek has mentioned you often enough,” she said with a gentle smile,
then
her gaze flicked to the man hovering at the door.  “Derek, please come in and sit.  I really want to touch you and know you’re all right, and I’m not sure I have the energy to get up.”  Her eyes shone with tears.  When he didn’t move, she held out a hand to him pleadingly.  “Jonathon has explained some of what’s happened, about the virus.  It wasn’t your fault, Derek, please don’t blame yourself.  Please come to me.”

“Trish,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry, so sorry.”  He walked hesitantly to her and took her hand, sinking into the chair next to her.

Gabi moved surreptitiously to the small table and chairs on the other side of the room.  She would give them a few minutes and then slip out quietly.  It seemed as though Trish was taking the news better than expected, but Trish’s next words still surprised her.

“I’m not,” she told Derek, sitting up slightly to look him earnestly in the eye.  “Derek, I’m sorry that it happened to you, but I’m not sorry that you bit me, too.”  Even Gabi could see the anger building in Derek, but Trish continued.  “If I wasn’t infected, you would’ve grown away from me.  You would’ve had to put space between us, keep me at a distance.  I would never have understood what was going on, and it would have upset me terribly.  This way we can still be part of each other’s lives.  You’re all I’ve got left.  If I’d been given a choice in the matter, this is the choice I would’ve made.”  Her eyes shone with the honesty in them.

Derek simply pulled her hand to his face and let the tears come.

Gabi let out a relieved breath, this was exactly what Derek needed, a reason to put his feet firmly on his new path and to take the first step.

Trish smiled through her own tears.  “Guess I can cancel those self-defence lessons I signed up for.”  The little joke broke the tension, and even Derek snorted in amusement.

“I think you two will be fine without me to supervise,” Gabi commented, rising from the table.  “I’ll come and collect you in a while?” she said to Derek.

“Do you think it would be okay if I stayed here with Trish tonight?” he ventured.

“I don’t see why not,” Gabi said.  “You guys have the block to yourselves, no one will bother you.  I’ll let Jonathon know, remind him to feed you, and get him to rustle you up some spare clothes.”  She felt the sleepy little squirrel stir in her pocket.  “Trish, I’ll pick up Derek tomorrow and take him to your place to collect you some clothes and other things you need, just make a list.”

The other woman smiled gratefully.  “Thank you, Gabi. 
For everything.”

Gabi smiled back, finding it impossible not to like Trish; there was something innately warm and engaging about her.

“Sure thing,” she said and left to hunt down Jonathon.  Little did the Vampire doctor know he was about to become foster mom to a baby squirrel for a few hours, while she attended to other business.

Chapter 9

She didn’t bother knocking at Julius’s front door this time.  She simply opened it and let herself in.  There was no sign of the annoying Chief Steward, and when Gabi sent out her senses, she couldn’t find any other presences in the whole house. 
Except one.
 
The mini supernova that was Julius.
  She didn’t need her extra senses to locate him.  She could feel his proximity deep inside, as though her soul could track him.  The connection had begun the first time she’d had a small taste of his blood.  His blood called to her like nothing else ever had.  That thread of connection had become a solid rope after he fed her more of his blood to help her heal after a panicked woman had staked her with a sharpened chunk of wood.  His blood had made her stronger, faster and made her feel more alive than she’d ever felt before.

She’d spent the better part of her life managing her strange dietary needs.  She required regular supplements of certain vitamins and minerals, no matter how much or how well she ate and exercised.  No one had had any idea what she truly was, until she met Julius and Alexander.  They considered her the Holy Grail of the Vampire world.
A Dhampir—a human with Vampire characteristics and abilities.
  However, to be fully Dhampir, a half-breed needed to ingest blood as well as food.  The rest was shrouded in the mists of myth and legend, no Vampire was sure what was truth and what
was fiction
anymore.  Both Julius and Alexander had assumed that a Dhampir would require human blood like a true Vampire, but Gabi had no desire for the taste of human blood at all.  Only Julius’s blood called to her, and no one had any idea why.

After she’d been staked, the initially tenuous connection between them had become strong and sure.  She could feel when he was close, and she could sense his emotions.  She’d also become faster, stronger and quicker to heal.  And while those extra abilities had long ago faded, she was surprised to find that the connection between them was still there.  Weaker than before, but enough that she could tell he was troubled.

She climbed the elegant staircase to the first floor and walked to the door of his office.  Again, she didn’t bother knocking; he’d know she was there.  She opened the door and stepped into the doorway, not entering the room, instead folding her arms and leaning one hip against the doorframe as she drank in the sight of him.  He was waiting for her.  Leaning back against the front of his desk, his arms crossed over his chest, shirt sleeves rolled up to expose his pale, muscled forearms.  Not even a ‘norm’ could be ignorant to the immense power coiled tightly around him.  His eyes, sapphire blue ringed with gold, glittered wickedly in the light of a dozen candles.  In that moment she could understand how humans might once have considered a man like this a god.  Names like Apollo and Ares sprang to mind.  He
both terrified
and excited her, drew her to him and seemed too otherworldly to touch.

“Welcome to my parlour,” he purred with a speculative smile.

“Said the spider to the fly?” she finished the line, raising one eyebrow.

“Hmm,” he mused, “I do seem to remember you comparing me to a spider once.”

She grinned. “A large, dangerous one, if I remember correctly.” She pushed away from the doorframe and began a slow, purposeful strut towards him.  She took in the low table laid with wine glasses, an open bottle of merlot and a bowl of handmade chocolate bonbons.  It said a lot for his appeal that she could bypass the handmade chocolates without a second glance.

“So am I the main course or the dessert, Mr Spider?” she asked, as she got close enough to touch him.  He hadn’t moved a muscle, but his eyes had gone dark and hungry.  She tugged gently on his arms, and he uncrossed them, dropping them to the edge of his desk, not touching her.

“You’re too delectable to be good for me, so you must be dessert.”  His voice was dark and husky.

“Ah, flattery was the fly’s downfall, was it not?  So I really shouldn’t be taken in by your sweet talk, now should I?” she asked, trailing a fingertip over his shirt, across the tight planes of his chest, down his abs and back up again.

“Absolutely not,” he agreed smoothly.

“What if the fly wants to be caught?” she whispered, her mouth millimetres from his, their breath mingling.

“Lea,” he whispered, tilting his head back from her, “we need to talk.”  She heard the faint crack of wood being split.  At least he wasn’t finding it easy not to touch her.

“Yes,” she agreed, “we do need to talk, that’s why I came up here.”  Her fingers slid between the buttons on his shirt.  She gave a little tug, exposing his skin to her touch, as buttons pattered onto the floor.  Her warm hands skimming up his bare chest made his breath catch in his chest.  “But I’ve changed my mind.”  She allowed her hands to slide around behind him, up to his shoulders, and then scored fingernail marks lightly down his spine.  He let out a hiss of pleasure.  “No talk just yet. 
Hmmmm
,” she purred as she ran her tongue languorously over one of his flat nipples. 
“Maybe later.”

“You are impossible,” he growled through clenched teeth.  One of his hands finally left the desk to thread into her hair.  He gripped her lush curls and tugged until she turned her face up to his.  “How am I supposed to resist you?” he asked her roughly.  His irises had bled from darkest midnight blue to full molten gold.  She loved the way his eyes changed colour as desire rode him.  She loved that she could make it happen.

“Why do you want to?” she retorted, pulling against his grip on her hair to lean closer to him and nip at his chin.  Just the scent of him so close to her was making her horny as hell.  She breathed in slowly, drawing his essence of cinnamon and clean mountain air deep into her lungs.  His mouth captured hers, hard and demanding. His tongue swept into her mouth, tangling with hers: she felt it as his canines lengthened, filling his mouth.  Then she tasted the exquisite, rich tang of his blood.  He’d sliced his tongue on a razor-sharp fang and expertly turned the tables on her.  Suddenly she was the one drowning, the one who couldn’t resist, aching for the taste and feel of him on her, in her, around her.  She heard herself moan as her hands swept hungrily over his body.

His hands deftly divested her of shirt, bra and
Nex
.  She was vaguely aware of papers and files crashing to the floor as he spun and pressed her down against the surface of his desk.  Skilful fingers teased her nipples, and his mouth left hers to nip and kiss a molten trail across her jaw and down her neck.  He paused long enough to graze his fangs across her jugular where he’d bitten her before, she groaned in agonised anticipation.  But he continued down, his mouth replacing his fingers at her breasts, his hands roaming lower to the fastening of her leather pants.  She buried her hands in his hair as he used his tongue and teeth to tease her nipples.  She felt her pants come undone; she was unable to do anything but lie against his desk as he bent to pull off her boots and slip her pants to the ground.