All Others (Vampire Assassin League Book 27) (4 page)

The world was seriously askew here.

Cameron’s eyes popped open. He sucked in a huge gulp of air as if he’d been breathless for hours. He was stopped by the pressure of bands about his chest. Strange-feeling bands. Not exactly restrictive. More soothing. Comforting. They flexed about him with his exhalation. And the next breath, as well.

Weird.

He went instantly alert and aware and cognizant. And all without one sip of coffee. He began gathering data as if that made sense. Gather data. Examine it. Evaluate. Establish facts. Act. He’d start with a periphery scan.

Hmm
.

The view before him looked unworldly; science-fiction in material form. There was a film of water between him and the rest of the world, as if he looked through a small waterfall. That really should have blurred the view.

It didn’t.

He could easily see grayish-toned fingers of mist threading through a forest of leafless trees. It appeared to be raining. He couldn’t assess time. It wasn’t daylight. It didn’t look like night, either. It was somewhere in-between – some weird twilight phase. Every so often he caught a glint through the fog layers. As if the ground wasn’t ground. It was something ephemeral. Unsubstantial. Like...some grayish-green liquid.

For miles.

Cameron blinked. Narrowed his eyes. He could see with perfect clarity at a range that was impossible without binoculars. And if he changed his focus, he could easily make out all kinds of definition in each strand of moss hanging about six inches from his nose. From a ceiling that looked like unfinished and hastily chopped wood. Nastily unsanitary. And was that a...spider web at one edge?

Oh
.

He’d had some strange dreams in his life. This one took the grand prize. It looked like Halloween Central. But then he became cognizant of sound. Waves of noise assaulted both ears. It was a cacophonic blend of insects buzzing and chirping, birds calling, frogs croaking, the trickling of water, and he didn’t know what else. All of it came at a decibel level that should cause temporary blindness. Or mental incapacitation. Cameron howled and smacked both hands to his ears. And the enclosure addressed him.

“Cameron Preston?”

Wow
.

This dream had a narrator? Excellent. But even weirder, he recognized the voice. It was the hot, supermodel woman from the cellar; the one who’d grabbed him to her and flown into the wild beyond – without using any obvious method of propulsion. All while he’d been dying from an arrow wound. Cameron blinked several times. Took a few deep breaths. The bands about his chest expanded and retracted. Felt like...arms. He tipped his head down.
Yep
. She had her arms wrapped about him. And that meant the pillows at his back were...

Pretty damn nice.

Well
.

If he had to die, this wasn’t half bad.

“I know you can hear me, Cameron Preston.”

She had a voice that sent pleasure. All kinds of it. His ears got it first with a touch of breath, and then a tremor raced went down his back. It reached the backs of both thighs. Backed up to get a really good grip on his butt. All of it highly enjoyable. He considered the sensation for a moment before answering.

“I only get called that when I’m in academic circles. Impressing people. Or if I’m in trouble.”

“Isn’t that your name?”

“I believe I’ll go with trouble this time.”

“What?”

“Cam. You can call me Cam. All right?”

He swiveled onto his back. Her arms stayed about him. That was damn fine. And damn weird. And hell. She was even more stunning than he remembered. Or maybe that was because she wasn’t being viewed through night goggles that colored everything Martian-green. She was on her side, clinging to him, one of her gorgeous legs bent and atop him...approximately at his knees. Her head was at his shoulders. And she had some really fine, firm breasts that hugged at his ribcage level. Cam didn’t dare glance down to verify anything. He was actually afraid he’d blush. He’d had women before. But none of his prior experiences remotely resembled this woman. He didn’t know why. He was afraid to delve into it, although his data sensors were going crazy. He hoped that was what sent a continuum of shivers up and down his frame. All highly enjoyable. All distinctly weird.

He kept his eyes on hers. She had really dark eyes. Fathoms deep. Intensely fascinating.

“Cam,” she finally replied.

His body lurched. The space they occupied shuddered. All kinds of things rustled. Now why - when it really mattered – did his body have to act like something from his teen years? He licked his lips. More weirdness. His upper teeth felt really strange. He’d check later. When his body quit acting like a fifteen-year-old moron with a men’s mag, a coating of baby oil on his palm, and a locked bathroom door.

He shivered again. And then groaned. He dragged his eyes from hers, and dropped his head. Regarded the morass of moss above him. It was covered with little flowers. All colors. All shapes. A bower of colorful flora coated the ceiling of their enclosure. This had to be a horticulturist’s dreamscape.

“You all right, Cam?”

He turned his head back to her.

“You know. It’s a damn shame this is a dream.”

She smiled. And then shook her head. Strands of hair slid across his cheek.

“It’s not a dream? Darn. I was hoping this wasn’t death. Because I’m way too young. And you’re way too gorgeous. And it’s mostly my fault. I accompanied those BPRG guys. I knew they weren’t stable.”

“We are...not dead, Cam.”

“Yeah. Right.” He ran a hand along his chest. Rubbed along a lot of crust-covered material. Stuck a finger through the arrow hole and lifted his shirt with it. “I was shot, lady. This is an arrow hole. I’m also covered in a lot of dried blood. And yet, I feel fine. Better than fine. I don’t think I’ve ever felt better.”

Data gathered. Evaluated. Facts assigned. No action required.

“I am so glad.”

“With facts being universal and all that, if I’m not dreaming, then this must be death. Otherwise, I would still have an arrow in my chest. And, I have to tell you, lady. That wouldn’t feel remotely this nice.”

“My name is Tessa.”

Another spurt of pleasure shot through him. This one did worse things than before. It sent some signals to his dick. Cameron tensed his thigh muscles to stop it. Then his lower abs. Butt muscles. This was just
not
happening. Not remotely possible. Not with a stranger. Not in a weird-ass environment. And especially, not when he was dead.

“It’s Tessa Queen,” she added. “Supernatural enough for you?”

Oh. Shit
. The data was getting all mucked up here. Signals were getting crossed. He could easily take a jump right off the deep end here. And thoroughly enjoy the trip.

“Look. Miss Queen. I am a scientist, okay? My field may be paranormal, but it doesn’t mean I’m a pushover.”

“No?”

She ran a finger up his belly, along his throat, skimmed his chin. Every portion she touched was sending all kinds of stimuli. He wasn’t just shivering. It was a shudder that moved their berth.

“Hmm. Nice. You are very....fit, Cameron.”

“Cam,” he replied automatically.

She’d reached his mouth. Ran her finger along his lower lip. Damn near sent him airborne. Wait. The ceiling closed in with rapidity. He only kept from smacking flowers with his face by the pressure of her hand, pushing him back down. He settled back right where he’d been. He didn’t know the surface material, but it was warm.

What the hell was going on?

“Do you believe in ghosts, Cam?”

Her finger was back to sketching an imaginary line up his chest. With about the same devastating effect as before. Cam wasn’t testosterone-driven. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been with a woman. And yet now. With this particular woman. He was having a difficult time staying on subject. This woman wielded some major vibes. Heated. Sensory. Tactile.

“Uh. Yeah.” His voice was gruff, but at least it worked.

“Why?”

“I’ve had encounters. Done experiments. Gathered data. That’s what I do. That’s what I was doing last night when you interrupted me.”

“I see.”

“You sound like you’re a believer.”

“I’m reserving judgment.”

“For what? You had contact.”

“How do you know?”

“You had an ax, Tessa. It came from somewhere.”

Her finger stopped at a spot directly below his chin. Cameron swallowed. Her finger moved with it.

“Does that mean ghosts are on our side?”

She leaned into him farther, pressing that ultra-fine bosom against his skin. Her mouth hovered near his. Close enough he was ready to lunge for the connection. Her lips were full. Moist. Perfectly pursed. Gaining a kiss was the uppermost thought in his head. Screw data gathering. To hell with evaluating. And the facts were just about history.

“Our—? What? We have a side? In what?”

Incoherent words stumbled from his throat. He was surprised anything managed to make it past where she hovered. Her breath stained his skin with warmth. Her scent enveloped him with a blend of lavender and musk. Her tongue lapped along his skin. He jerked with each one.

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Cameron Preston?”

“It’s Cam. And...what? No. Figured? What?”

“But you study the paranormal. Yes?”

“You are not a ghost, okay?”

“Oh. I am something much better, hon.”

She lifted her head. His heart seized up. Inability to breathe followed an instant later. Tessa had fangs. Real fangs! Sharp as hell fangs!
Oh, shit! Shit!
Alarm bells were sounding through his brain, taking his ability to think to a skull-splitting ache. His body didn’t get the same message, however. Everything throughout his limbs tensed. Primed. Afire with anticipation.

Of something too vast to contemplate.

“I am a vampire, love.”

“Uh...”

The word was garbled. Indistinct. Rough. She licked the span of teeth between her fangs and then gave him an air kiss. That sent the sensation of eagerness to fever pitch. The urge was primal. Intense. Immediate. Desire licked at his thighs. Grabbed his loins. Sent a solid throb of ache through his entire groin area.

And then she bit him.

“Well. Well. Look who’s here! Queen of the Dark. Finally!”

The words came through a haze of existence. Cameron would have stumbled if he was walking. He wasn’t. He was being carried across one of Tessa’s shoulders. She wasn’t walking, either. At least, he didn’t sense footsteps. She was probably flying.

And why not?

Nothing else in this dreamscape made sense. Why wouldn’t she be flying? Oh. That must be truly difficult. With him on one shoulder and part of the hollow log atop her other one. The load had to be staggering. That bore thinking on, too. When his brain returned to functioning capability.

Maybe he should phrase that differently. Not
when
but
if
his brain functioning capability returned. From wherever it had gone.

“And look there, Tassy. We can start a bonfire. She brought a log.”

“Not with this wood, you don’t.”

Tessa answered. Cam would have forced his chin up or swiveled his head, but nothing worked. He had never felt this exhausted. Ever. He’d done marathons, triathlons, and obstacle courses all over the country. He’d even done the North Slope 12k Hard Body event in Colorado. Not just the spring event. He’d completed the grueling winter version, too. Twice. Took second place last year. He had the awards and badges to prove all of it. But this exhaustion was different. It was both mental and physical. He knew how debilitating either condition was. He’d never experienced both at the same time. It was paralyzing.

“Are you Len?” Tessa asked.

“Yep. Leonard Griggins. At your service. And this is Tassanee, my fiancée.”

“My. My. What a lovely woman. I wonder what she sees in you.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny. So. Tell me. This, the new guy?”

“Actually, I enjoy hefting strange men through the bayou. I do it all the time.”

“Aren’t we testy this evening.”

New guy?

Those words limped through Cam’s head. They might mean something. He wished his mind would work. He felt like a toddler in need of a nap. Probably resembled one. This dream just kept getting weirder and weirder. He assigned this aberration in the fabric of reality to a dream. It was the best option. He had four of them. Being in the midst of a dream was the best. He’d decided that as this gorgeous superwoman did something magical to his neck. She’d taken her time. Sent his entire being into a space-altering realm. A vista of lavender-shaded wonder had opened before him. Beckoned him. He’d balked momentarily. Questioned things. Came up with, and gone through, the four options facing him. But then he’d succumbed.

That’s why he wasn’t toting her. Or the chunk of hollow log she had on her other shoulder. At least he thought that was the view when she’d hefted him. His head had lolled to one side, but he’d caught a glimpse of her load. Wow. Tessa Queen wasn’t just the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. She possessed superhuman strength, a body that should be immortalized in statuary, a glance that stopped hearts, screaming-hot vibes that came with every touch...

And that was before he factored in what she could do with those lips of hers!

His body would have shuddered with remembered ecstasy if he wasn’t semi-paralyzed. Tessa Queen was the embodiment of his dream woman. He didn’t think he possessed enough imagination to conjure her.

But it fit.

Because he was dreaming.

That really was the best option, although a psychotic episode came in a close second. That would be a shame. He couldn’t go insane. He had bills to pay. His condo mortgage payment. Utilities. Three more years of student debt for his doctorate. He had a class to prepare for. Experiments to conduct. He had perishables in his refrigerator. An upcoming appointment with his dentist. Insanity wasn’t a viable option.

Oh.

Good.

His brain was starting to work again.

Third option? He was dead. If that was the case, he’d have all the insanity issues, and then he had to add in the mess his death would leave for his next of kin – whoever that was. He had a trust set up, and an executor named. Unfortunately that had been his great-aunt, and she’d died over the summer. He hadn’t assigned a new one yet. Talk about a probate nightmare. Then again, he might not have anything left once the student debt got settled and lawyers paid.

The fourth option was beyond consideration. It would require a paradigm shift beyond his capability. Because this could be real. Tessa Queen could be a vampire. A real one. And the reason he was so weak was because she’d taken his blood. She’d almost drained him. And he’d just allowed it.

Yeah. Right, Cameron
.

The truth was he’d been a willing participant. He’d enjoyed every moment. Longed for more. In fact, he remembered begging for it. He had to take it another step, however. If this was real...and Tessa Queen was a vampire. What did that make him?

Okay.

That did it. He had to stop thinking. He had nothing but conjecture. The facts were elusive and opaque when he could find them. And his brain hurt. Besides, the as-yet-unseen man started speaking again, interrupting any train of thought.

“You need help, Miss Tessa?”

Help?
With what? Toting him?

Cameron sent the message for his back to stiffen. It didn’t work. His body wasn’t responding. He might as well be overcooked spaghetti bathed in scented warm liquid. He was used to being described as a hard man. Hard in mind. Hard in body. He’d gained more than one interested look when working out. To be so ignominiously handled by a woman any other man would be hard for? Well. This was thoroughly embarrassing. And totally wondrous.

How was that even possible?

Maybe he’d rather be dead.

Tessa shifted him, smacking his abs against her shoulder and his head against her backside. And wow. She had a really nice—

“Depends. You changed yet?” she spoke, interrupting his thoughts.

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“I’m saving it for the honeymoon. We’ve got it all planned. We’re looking at something like your bedroom suites. Any of them. You have spectacular décor, if a bit redundant. Dark wood four-poster beds. Purplish, dusk-colored walls. Carpets. Canopy. Hmm. Sumptuous bedding. Sound system. Lots of candlelight. Heavy kissing—”

“You’re no help.”

Tessa interrupted. That was a shame. The descriptions sent a tingle of sensation through Cameron’s back. That could be a really good sign.

“Depends on who comes calling. Having somebody who can answer doors at the Dark Plantation might be a plus. During daylight hours, I mean.”

“I have servants. And nobody ever comes calling.”

“I have a sneaky suspicion that is about to change.”

“Because of you?”

“Nope. Because mating has that effect. Trust me. Besides, Tassanee is a full associate. Trained in Cambodian martial arts called
Bokator.
She’ll more than compensate for any of my shortcomings.”

Wait a minute. Did somebody just say...
mating?

Mating.

Hmm
.

That word had meaning attached to it. If Cam’s cerebrum was working properly he’d pin it down without this kind of effort. The word meant something. All kinds of things. Being friends. Buddies.
No
. Wait. There was something dark and mysterious about it, too. Animalistic. Wild. Exciting. Mating also meant to join. Fit together. Mesh.

Copulate.

Oh hell
.

His body didn’t have any trouble deciphering that. All kinds of warmth sparked into being and then spread. It emanated from his chest, radiating outward. His upper body got a good dose first. His legs were a bit behind, because his groin started drawing up heat and converting it. Man! This was incredible. He hadn’t had a wet-dream since college. And nothing this realistic.

He heard drumming from somewhere. His heart found the beat and throbbed into rhythm with it. There was a distinct echo. It was a fraction of a second behind as if the drummer pounded away in a reverberation chamber or used some bass speakers with heavy wattage.

But this was terrible. Badly timed. Ridiculously choreographed. He was draped limply over a goddess’s shoulders. The only good part was that his belly was against her skin. His groin wasn’t in direct contact. She might not know how she affected him. And besides all that, they had an audience.

“So...does any of this mean you need help?”

“No. Not—just no. I’ll call if I do.”

The husky undertone of Tessa’s voice sent another burst of heat through Cam’s chest. That one didn’t reach his legs, either. Maybe she did sense his arousal. And damn. That didn’t sound remotely bad.

“We’ll just...be around then. Any suggestions?”

“Stay out of the back wing.”

They moved. Rapidly. Flew through a blur of dark-toned rooms. He couldn’t tell furnishings. Not from this angle. But the floors looked like they’d been constructed of dark wood. Rugs interspersed the path. They looked expensive. Thick. And patterned with symbols. The drum sound got stronger. Thicker. Heavier.

He sure hoped the back wing was where the bedroom suites were located.

Wait
.

This was getting a little too wild. Over-the-top crazy. Cameron Preston had never been wild and crazy. He’d missed out on a lot. That much was obvious. Maybe he should go with his second option, insanity. Because anything else might stop it.