Dark Needs at Night's Edge (23 page)

32

w
here did you go this morning?” Néomi asked, once she'd finished savoring the most delectable croissant ever crafted in the history of mankind.

After the second time they'd made love, he'd been ready—and raring—for another round, but she'd groaned,
“Food. Your mortal needs food.”

He'd asked her what she would like if she could have anything in the world. “A hot, buttery croissant, with café au lait and fresh-squeezed orange juice.” So naturally, Conrad had traced to France and brought exactly that back to her.

“I had errands to do,” he answered. It was then that she noticed his hair was freshly cut, though it remained a tad too long, as she liked it. The ends were still wet from his quick shower. And he was wearing crisp new clothes—understated, dark, but unmistakably moneyed.

He was handsome as the devil, and with those fiery eyes, he looked more than a little devilish.

Forever the red would remind her of fire.

“Errands? Like what?”

“I've brought things for you.” He handed over shopping bags that said Harrods on them.
Lots
of bags. Apparently, he'd been to London as well. “You needed clothes. And there are…gifts.” He coughed into his fist, his voice gruff. And she knew with certainty that he'd never bought anything for a woman before.

There was
everything
—shoes, dresses, sweaters, slacks. She found a toiletry kit with shampoos, perfumes, and lotions.

“A saleswoman said this would have anything you could need.”

Néomi dug into more bags, savoring the different fabrics and the expensive designs. And not a black satin party gown among the offerings! “Vampire, you have excellent taste!” she said in delight.

He shrugged, but she could tell he was satisfied that he'd pleased her.

She found a felt box with a jeweled hair comb inside. “Conrad, it's so lovely!” Then she frowned at the facets of light in the stones. “These aren't real, are they?”

“Of course.”

“Are you rich, then?”

“Exceedingly.” His shoulders shot back, his posture straightening. “I don't look like I'd have money?”

“Oh, that's not it. It's just so dear. I adore these types of combs.”

“I know. You stole one from Murdoch.”

With a sheepish grin, she continued exploring. She pulled out a tiny pair of black thong panties—one among many colors and styles—and quirked a brow. “Let me guess. This is what they're wearing in London?”

“It cost me much to buy you those.”

“Were they expensive?”

His face flushed. “They cost me because I could scarcely walk after imagining your body in them. Women's undergarments have a whole new appeal now that I've felt and kissed what goes into them.”

She nibbled her bottom lip. “You were aroused in the store?” He glanced away and nodded. She'd have loved to have seen that. “Next time you can take me with you, and I'll model them for you.”

Returning his gaze to her, he said, “Néomi, tell me how this transformation happened.”

And just like that, it happened. The question she had been dreading. “The specifics are my secret, Conrad. I made a vow never to reveal them. I'm sorry, but that's how it must be.”

“You won't confide in me?” he asked, his tone astonished.

“Non,”
she said firmly. “If you insist, I still won't tell you, and then we'll quarrel.”

“I'm to know nothing about how my Bride went from ghost to mortal?”

“I'm going to ask you to do this for me. I'm going to hope that you won't question why, and that you'll just accept when something good has happened for us.”

“I can't simply ignore this.”

Making her demeanor businesslike, she said, “Then I'm going to have to make it one of the conditions for us to be together.”

“One of the conditions? You have more?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. You have to promise me that there won't be any killing while I'm with you. Unless it's in self-defense.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I can make that promise.”

“And I have a last one.” This morning when she'd awakened, she'd realized how close he'd come to taking her neck last night. If Conrad drank her blood, it wouldn't matter how guarded they all were about the secret. With her memories, he could discover everything—he would know her secret, and then that would be the end of her.

Néomi's new existence was going to last as long as possible, just as long as Conrad didn't discover how short it was destined to be.

“I know I told you in the past that I wouldn't deny you if you wanted to drink from me, but I've had a change of heart.”

“Agreed,” he hastily said. “It will
not
happen.”

She frowned. This was the answer she'd hoped for, but his adamant tone confused her. “I'd thought you would want to. Do you fear getting my memories? Perhaps of other men?”

“A vampire never sees his Bride's memories of other males. The way my kind fixates—it'd be impossible to get past that. I won't drink you, because I could kill you.”

“But don't your brothers drink from their wives?”

“Their wives are immortal—they can't die like that. I could drain your body dry in seconds.”

“Then you won't ever slip up?”

“I
can't
slip up.”

She studied his face. “So you agree to my terms for our liaison?”

“Did you always spell out stipulations for the use of your body?”

Her lips thinned. “Yes, I did. Since I intend to use yours as well, I'd be glad to hear your terms.”

He stood and paced. “There will be times when I have to leave, but I'll do it when you sleep. I've put a protection on Elancourt against intruders, so you must vow to me that you'll stay inside the manor when I'm gone.”

“Very well, but I won't be sleeping much.”
I can sleep when I'm dead.
“And why do you have to leave if you're not working again?” When he hesitated, she said, “I've witnessed your recovery, Conrad. I can't watch you succumb again.”

“I have to track the demon who marked my arm and destroy him before he kills me.”

“Then it's in self-defense?” she asked. He gave a single nod. “Will you drink from him?”

“I will do everything I can to prevent that.”

“And what about Cade and Rydstrom? They'd been searching for you.”

“For Rydstrom to reclaim his lost throne, he needs information I…acquired. They will be ruthless to get it.”

“Acquired? You mean from the memories of the warlock you'd ‘drained.'” He shrugged. “Can't you just give it to them?”

“I would if I could. My mind's clearer, but I still can't pull up memories at will.” He returned to sit on the edge of the bed beside her. “Why did you believe I wouldn't drink that demon last night?”

“Because you're just not as bad as everyone thinks,” she said, repeating her words from days ago. “And because you're starting to look forward instead of back.”

He exhaled. “You can't really expect me just to ignore how you came back from death? To not know?”

She shrugged, and his gaze dipped to her bare breasts. “Depends on how badly you want to spend time with me.”

His voice harsh, he snapped, “You know how badly.”

“Then you liked our morning?” He scowled as if her question was absurd. “Just think, you can have a nubile female here for the taking.” Making her voice a purr, she said, “You can do anything to me anytime you like. You'll go from never having had sex to having it whenever the mood strikes you. If you'll just let this lie.” This offer alone might take care of his curiosity—but if not, she was fully prepared to demonstrate more of what he'd be gaining.

She grinned. It wouldn't be a chore.

“Just tell me who you were with at the gathering.”

“Again, I won't say.” She rose to her knees. “Let's drop this,
mon grand
.”

Distracted by her hardening nipples, he absently said, “I can't do that.” He ran his hand over his mouth, finding it surprisingly erotic that he was completely dressed while she was naked in their bed. He shook himself. “Néomi, I
won't
do that.”

As she eased over to him, she got a look in her eyes. He didn't recognize exactly what it said, but it made him instantly hard—and
excited,
his heart pumping wildly.

When she was kneeling up beside him, she nuzzled his ear with hot breaths. “There are so many
other
things we can talk about.” Her fingers were busily unbuttoning his shirt as she murmured, “Like any secret fantasies you've harbored and want to experience.” She brushed his shirt away. “Or we can skip the talk and simply
do
them. Would you like that?”

Just as he'd imagined once, she was using her wiles on him. He'd planned to withstand her for as long as possible. How…
intriguing
—

He sucked in a breath when she fondled his cock through his pants.

“I need these off, Conrad.” At once, he yanked his boots off, then shoved his pants past his already straining shaft. Her eyes went heavy-lidded, as if she truly loved that part of him.

“You think I can't see what you're doing?” Once he was undressed, he sat beside her again. “You intend to manage me with sex. You think to direct me.”

When she moved to kneel on the floor between his legs, he forgot how to breathe.
“Néomi?”
His voice broke on her name.

She placed her palms on his knees, spreading them, then leaned in. “Is it so bad being directed”—she began licking down his chest, her destination unmistakable—“if you like where you're headed?”

His eyes went wide.
She's going to…? I'm to have this…?

Once she'd reached his navel, his hands flew to her hair, cupping the back of her head. Then came the first touch of her moist little tongue—

He yelled, “
You good—
ah!” While he stared dumbstruck, threading his fingers in her silky hair, she lovingly licked the swollen head and circled the crown.

With a groan, he opened his knees wider, hands shaking uncontrollably as she took him deeper. Her mouth was feverishly hot on his sensitive flesh. His shaft began to throb under her tongue, and he couldn't stop himself from thrusting it up between her lips.

Never slowing her ministrations, she moved his hands to her high breasts. As he hefted them and thumbed the peaks, she sucked him even more hungrily.

He wanted this never to end, but she began pumping the base of his cock with her soft palms at the same time, and the pressure to come intensified until it pained him. When she moaned around his length, he knew it was over for him.

Have to warn her
. On the verge, seconds from losing his seed, he bit out,
“About to…come!”

His jaw slackened when she didn't draw away, instead taking him more greedily. “Néomi!” He rocked his hips up, releasing into her waiting mouth.
“Wicked,”
he groaned in bliss as he shot against her tongue….

Afterward he lifted her to her feet, clutching her against his chest. As Conrad held his female, he was staggered by the pleasure, wrought from him in a way he'd only ever imagined before.

Did he still need to know what had happened with her ghostly state? Of course. But when she placed his hand between her thighs to her feel her damp arousal, the need faded. They were together—that was all that mattered for now.

The rest was just details.

33

W
ithin seconds of Néomi's tentative rap on the studio mirror, Mari appeared, diligently avoiding her own reflection on the other side. “Hold on, I've got to put you on screen. Okay, there you are!”

Néomi had known she couldn't go through the portal of the glass without Mari, but she'd figured she could knock at the door.

“It's about time you contacted me!” Mari held out her hand, breaching the surface of the mirror. “You want to come over?”

“Conrad will be back soon, and I wouldn't be able to hear him. Maybe you can come here?”

“Can't.” Mari snapped her fingers to someone out of sight, and a teenage girl brought Mari an enormous cup that said Slurpee on the side. “We're hazing new witches at the coven house today. The innocent lambs are vying for my old room.” She plopped into a cushy chair. “We'll have to teleconference via mirror.”

Néomi dragged the cot closer to the glass and settled in. She was delighted to be able to talk to Mari, and not just for enjoyment. It would help take her mind off her worry over Conrad. Every time he left to hunt, she grew anxious.

“I see how you're going to be—use me for my spells, then I don't even get another nod for five whole days?”

“It's been so busy!” And the only times Conrad wasn't with her were when she slept. She'd happened to wake early this afternoon. “Are you all right from the gathering? I saw you get hit.”

“Oh, yeah, just ducky. But you should see the other guy. He will
never
accidentally elbow another witch again. Even after his elbows grow back.”

“That's good to know, I think. Was Nïx terribly disappointed that her gathering devolved into chaos?”

“I asked her the same thing, but she just laughed. I eventually got her to admit that she'd started it. Apparently you and the vampire weren't the only couple thrown together in the melee.” She curled her legs under her. “So I take it you blooded the vamp?” When Néomi nodded happily, Mari tilted her head. “Wow, check you out—you look fantastic! A new haircut? And new duds.”

She flushed from the praise. “Conrad's been taking me shopping. A lot.” In the first few nights, she'd hit Paris with a frenzy, frothing at all the new styles to be had. And she'd had her hair trimmed in a boutique there, but only by a couple of inches, as each snip seemed to physically pain Conrad. “I offered to pay my own way, but he bristled. I tried to point out that I have scads of money, but he wouldn't listen.”

“You have…
scads of money
?” Mari asked innocently.

Néomi stifled a grin, making her demeanor stern. “Yes. I looked up my certificates. Evidently thirty thousand dollars' worth of IBM and GE stock in the twenties equals approximately a hundred and fifty million today. Though a witch nabbed about twenty-five of it.”

Eyes wide, Mari cried, “Who? What! Damn, those witches!”

Néomi couldn't stop a chuckle. She would've given Mari all of it.

“Speaking of witches—you missed girls' night out.” Mari set down her Slurpee to cross her arms over her chest. “I don't know if Nïx explained this to you, but GNO is not optional. You will receive demerits for missed attendance. And by demerits, I mean you have to buy drinks for thirsty Wiccae.”

“I'm still in the honeymoon phase. Don't I get a pass? Besides, I'm not supposed to go out in the city, not with Cade and Rydstrom in New Orleans.”

Mari's expression turned serious. “They'd never hurt you, Néomi. They actually saved my life, back before I'd grown into my immortality.”

“Would they hurt Conrad?”

“In a heartbeat,” she admitted. “Most of Lorekind hate red-eyed vampires.”

Néomi sighed. “Do you?”

“Ah, snap, put Mari in the hot seat! Well, I used to be very certain that I did. But everybody at the gathering was talking about how Conrad Wroth stopped himself from drinking Cade. Even Bowen is in a wait-and-see mode.”

“Oh, that's a relief!”

“Still, I'd thought about checking on you anyway, dropping by with a type-A-positive pie or something.”

“I'm glad you didn't—I don't want Conrad to learn that we know each other. He'd do nothing but hound you for my secret.” Even now, she listened attentively for his return.

He always went straight to the kitchen to get a mug of blood. She'd hear him open the refrigerator door and close it with the side of his boot. Then he would sit for a spell on the porch steps, drinking and seeming to decompress from the night's hunt. All they were missing was the
Honey, I'm home.
“Speaking of which—I don't suppose Nïx is ever wrong?”

“That would be
never
.”


Bien
. We'll keep the secret forever, and then I won't get capped.” Néomi could speak Gang as well as the next former ghost from the Jazz Age.

“Néomi…” Mari was plainly troubled about her outlook.

“No, I know.” She didn't want Mari to be. She was utterly grateful. “Every day I last is just a bonus. And really, I was born a mortal. That means any time I had on earth would
always
be uncertain.”

Mari looked unconvinced.

“We just worked with what we had. I have absolutely no regrets.”

“What'd you tell him when he asked how you came back?” Mari asked.

“I told him I had a secret, and that I wouldn't talk about it or we'd quarrel.”

“And he just let it go? That's weird. Vampires are notoriously single-minded.”

Néomi nibbled her bottom lip. “Well, I distract him….”

“You distract—? Ah, I got it.” She snapped her fingers again, and another teenager briefly appeared bearing a pastry box. “Beignet?” Mari opened the box and offered it through the glass.

Néomi
was
hungry. This would be her breakfast. Though Conrad escorted her to restaurants for most meals—he pushed food around on his plate and sipped “inferior” whiskey neat—she occasionally had to scrounge in the refrigerator. The shelves were divided in half, with his blood on one side and her juices, leftovers, and fruit on the other. “Café du Monde?”

“Where else?”

Néomi eagerly accepted, plucking one from the box. Still hot! She took a bite, sighing in delight as it melted in her mouth.

“Well, then…tell me, what's it like living with a vampire? Is it everything you'd hoped?”

“Better than. Besides shopping, he's been taking me to new places all over the world.”

Tracing came in very handy when one had limited time and no passport. Though vampires could only trace to destinations they'd been to previously, Conrad had traveled all over the world in the last three centuries. “For our first foray, he made me close my eyes. When I opened them, we were on a moonlit beach on the Indian Ocean.” The wave crests had been bright with luminescence, the breeze a balmy kiss.

It had struck Néomi then that she might just pack in a lifetime of experiences if she could last a year.

“I've never been. Bowen and I have got to travel more,” Mari said. “So how's the vamp doing with the rages you told us about?”

“Anytime a male casts an appreciative glance my way, I fear Conrad will attack him.” He was still struggling to temper his aggression, still treading that path by the folly when he needed to cool off.

The men who regarded her had no idea they courted the wrath of a seventeenth-century warlord, ready to lash out over every long look….

“Oh, you get used to that,” Mari assured her. “Lore males can be really territorial with their females. But hey, aren't the females right back?”

Though Néomi wasn't of the Lore, she was extremely possessive of her vampire. With his towering, muscle-packed build and that jet black hair, Conrad's presence was beyond arresting. Add the sunglasses, and everyone mistook him for a celebrity. Women, young and old, stopped in their tracks to gape at him. “When one woman continued to leer at his backside, I wanted to pull her hair. Even though she was easily an octogenarian.”

Mari snorted at that.

“Are all Lore males ridiculously overprotective as well?” Néomi asked.

“Don't even get me started.”

Conrad could be so violent with others, but he'd proved to be protective of her to a fault. “At first I had trouble remembering that I can't float through doors anymore, and I kept butting my forehead—”

Mari thought that was hilarious, coughing on her Slurpee.

Néomi quirked a brow and continued, “But Conrad winces over each slight mark. And a splinter in my finger was rated as calamitous in his eyes.”

Mari offered another beignet.

“Merci.”
Néomi stretched to reach it. “Unfortunately, he's getting more and more suspicious whenever I say or do anything that shows no concern for the future.”

“Like what?” Mari asked, brushing powdered sugar from her hands.

“He'd wanted to repair some things around the house, like parts of this studio so I could start practicing again like I used to. I told him there were just so many things I wanted to see now that I can leave the property.” She did want to dance, but she had to make choices with her remaining time. “And then, just yesterday, he asked me why I wasn't worried about birth control. It got me thinking—should I be?”

Mari frowned. “I truly don't know. I'll ask around, post it to the discussion board.”

What if Néomi could get pregnant? What if she could have their baby before she died? Would she trust the mad vampire assassin with her only child after she was gone? She thought of that fierce, protective light in his eyes whenever he looked at her.

Absolutely
.

After a loud
slurp,
Mari said, “Tell me more…believe me, my minions are praying to Hekate that you'll keep me occupied all afternoon.”

“Well, he's really
intense
. A few nights ago, he offered to desecrate the grave of the man who murdered me.” Catching Néomi's gaze, he'd rumbled,
“Bid me to do this, koeri, and it's done.”

“Aw, that's kind of sweet,” Mari said.

“I thought so, too.” Eventually. At the time, her lips had parted, and she'd murmured,
“Oh, how…thoughtful, Conrad.”
Again, she'd understood the offer was akin to an affectionate gesture from a male like him. “
But let's leave the, er, grave alone for now. I just want to enjoy you….”

Waggling her eyebrows, Mari asked, “So, is your vamp good in the sack?”

Néomi sighed, “Quite.” Not only was Conrad insatiable, the male had
stamina
. He was discovering all the wonders of lovemaking, but she was rediscovering it with a virile male, forever in his prime. “I'd never been with anyone immortal before. There's certainly a difference.”

By turns, he could be both gentle and fierce with sex. But he never hurt her, and she loved that she never knew what side of Conrad she'd get.

And the more self-assured in bed he became, the more domineering he grew. His growing confidence thrilled her, giving her delicious shivers because she knew it would only continue to get better and better.

Then she would remember she was
leaving.

“I knew a witch who slept with a vamp once,” Mari said in a lower tone. “I asked her what it was like, and she told me, ‘You never forget for a second that you're with a vampire.'”


C'est vrai.
That is one hundred percent true. Conrad once told me of having new vampire instincts that overrode his human ones, and I can definitely see it.”

Whenever he put his mouth on her, he held her down, until she felt like the caught lure he'd nicknamed her. If he kissed her mouth, he held her face and the back of her neck, as if he feared she'd get away. When he suckled her breasts, he'd greedily cup both of them from the sides, firmly gripping them. As he squeezed, she could almost hear him thinking,
Mine
.

Leaning forward in her chair, Mari asked, “Does he ever want to drink you? I've heard some chicks actually like it.”

“I think he does want to, but he never has.” Sometimes when they had sex, she sensed him skirting the edge of his control, especially now that he was growing so fatigued from hunting that demon. But she always pulled back from him, and he didn't press. “He's afraid of hurting me.”

“He can't have your blood anyway. If he got your memories, then that'd be a surefire way to find out your secret. Think about it—you're never going to tell anyone. I'm not, and Nïx won't. How else could anyone find out unless Conrad drank you?”

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