Lover's Bite (14 page)

He held her, fondled her, licked and tasted her, until she was screaming with ecstasy and pushing his head away. And then he climbed up her body and sank himself inside her.

It was heaven to feel her surrounding him. So warm. So wet. So welcoming. And it felt right, this union. When they connected this way, he didn't see anything lacking in his life. It was perfection as he moved inside her, as she arched her hips to meet him every single time, whether he quickened the pace or slowed it, deepened his thrusts or held back. She always knew, always anticipated. It was as if they were one mind, one soul, when they made love.

Made love. It felt like that, he thought. He'd never thought of it that way before, he realized.

And then he was through thinking anything at all, because she was moaning his name, and her head was twisting back and forth on the pillows, and he knew it was time to push her to the brink again. So he slid his hands beneath her bottom and held her to him, as he thrust into her harder and deeper and faster than before.

She clutched his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh. Her eyes flew open and met his, and he saw tears pooling in them as she came this time. Just as he reached the precipice himself, those tears of hers began rolling down her cheeks.

Spent, Jack relaxed onto his side and pulled her into his arms, cradling her, rocking her there. “Baby, please don't cry. Everything's going to be all right.”

She sighed. “They're tears of relief, Jack. Thank you for that.”

“In that case,” he told her, “there's a hell of a lot more where that came from. Come here.” And he pulled her on top of him.

 

At a quarter to dawn, Topaz lay sated, glowing with satisfaction in Jack's arms. Her heart and mind were still reeling, but he'd given her an outlet for all the emotion that had been overflowing in her. He'd taken it all from her, as if drinking away toxic blood. He'd taken it onto himself, bearing the brunt of her emotions, which she'd left lying open to him. As open as her body was to his.

All of that, he'd taken somehow. And it had to hurt, because he was feeling exactly what she felt. She knew that. She knew how it worked among their kind. And yet he didn't block it out. He made love to her, straight through her storm, pushing and pushing, until the physical pleasure became bigger than the emotional pain and finally drowned it out.

All in his arms.

If he never did another thing for her, Topaz thought, he'd done enough that night—more than enough—to make up for all his past wrongs. He'd ridden out the storm with her, helped her to get through it without losing her mind. Not an easy battle. In a vampire, emotional pain was as magnified as the physical variety. It could have driven her mad. Perhaps sent her into catatonia, or even killed her. She would never be sure.

Thank God, she thought.

Then…no, thank Jack.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you, Jack.”

“Don't thank me for spending the night in ecstasy. Trust me, it was no sacrifice.”

“You took the pain, and we both know it.”

“Penance.”

She shook her head, thinking it had to be more than that.

“What are you going to do next, Topaz?”

She drew a breath, snuggled closer in his arms, and didn't give a damn that she was letting herself fall in love with him all over again. Then again, who was she kidding? She'd never really stopped.

“I'm going to find her,” she whispered. “I have to.”

His arms, muscles like whipcords, tightened around her in a way that felt so incredibly safe and reassuring that she could almost believe it was real. “Do you even know where to begin searching?”

She nodded against his chest. “The last place I know for sure she was. Mexico.”

He nodded. “Makes sense.” And
he
was tense then. It was in his jaw and in his voice. She felt it.

“I don't want to go there alone, Jack,” she whispered, and it was like laying her heart on a guillotine and waiting for him to drop the blade. That was how vulnerable it felt to put herself out there for him again after his rejection, his betrayal.

“You're not going there alone, Topaz,” he told her. “Not as long as I'm undead, you're not.”

“T
opaz needs you.”

Reaper recognized the voice on the other end of the cell phone. It was the voice of a man he didn't trust. Topaz was in love with the jerk, though. Reaper knew the signs. Jack Heart was the biggest mistake Topaz had ever made in her life. He was no good for her, and what was worse, she knew it. And yet she loved him. Who could figure women out?

“Reaper? Are you there?” Jack asked.

“Yes. I'm here. What's going on? Is Topaz all right?” He had no doubt in his mind that Jack was somehow to blame for the CIA knowing his location. They'd been just two steps behind him, no matter where he'd gone in the past week.

“She's a mess,” Jack said.

“I have no doubt, if you've been out there with her all this time. If she's a mess, Jack, just who do you think is responsible for that?”

Reaper felt the hesitation on the other end of the line but could read nothing more. Jack's mind was closed to him.

“Not that it's any of your business, Reaper, but I know I messed her up. A lot. More than I ever realized, but that's in the past. I've been trying to make up for it. But that's not what's bothering her right now. Or maybe it's part of it, I don't know.”

“Yes, you do. It's a part of everything for her.”

Jack's sigh was soft but audible. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

Reaper nodded at the phone. At least the bastard could admit it.

“Despite that, there's more now,” Jack told him. “Her mother—her mother was the actress, Mirabella DuFrane. Have you heard of her?”

“Not really.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Just get to the point, Jack.” Reaper wasn't entirely comfortable engaging in long telephone conversations, particularly with this guy. For all he knew, one of Jack's sleazy contacts could be tracing the signal.

“Her mother was murdered when Topaz was an infant,” Jack said. “Her body was stolen from the morgue, never to be found. It was a big Hollywood mystery, the stuff of legend. Only it turns out Mirabella DuFrane never really died at all. We're pretty sure she was the vampiress who transformed Topaz ten years ago in Mexico. We're heading there now to try to track her down.”

Reaper blinked. “Are you saying Topaz's mother faked her own death and walked out on her when she was an infant? Deliberately?”

“It looks that way.”

No wonder Topaz was a mess, Reaper thought. He had a million questions racing through his mind, and he tried to sort them logically, ask them in order of importance. “Is she in any danger?” he asked.

“Depends on how badly her mother wants to avoid being found,” Jack said. “My instinct is that she's only in danger of having her heart broken again. And I don't think she could handle it this time. She's got this notion that she's…unlovable. That no one's ever cared for her, only for her money.”

“Gee, I wonder where she could have gotten that idea?” Reaper said, his tone as cruel as he could make it.

Jack paused before going on. “I probably deserved that, Reaper, but I'm not going to take a lot more from you, deserved or not. So could you put a sock in it and focus on Topaz for a minute here?”

“She's all I'm focusing on.”

“Me, too,” Jack told him. “Whether you believe it or not. She's hurting right now, and I'm afraid it's going to get worse before it gets better.
If
it gets better. She used to believe that at least her mother, out of all the people in her life, had truly loved her. Now, though, knowing the woman has been more or less alive all this time and basically abandoned her…even that belief has been shattered.”

Reaper understood that. “There had to be extenuating circumstances…The woman must have felt she had no choice.”

“Yeah, sure, you and I know that, but all Topaz can feel right now is hurt and rejection. I've never seen her like this, Reaper. If it goes badly, I don't know what she might—I'm freaking terrified of what she might do.”

Those words hit Reaper on a level far deeper than anything he'd felt in a long time. Many a vampire had given in to despair and ended it all by simply lying down for the day sleep in an open field or walking into the sunrise. He'd seen it happen too many times. He'd seen it happen when he hadn't believed it could. He'd seen it happen to someone he'd loved.

“She needs to be with people she trusts, people who care about her, if she's going to get through this,” Jack went on.

“And that's not you, right, Jack?”

“What I feel for Topaz is between the two of us. But we both know she doesn't trust me.”

“Do you blame her?”

“Look, enough already. Will you gather the others and join us in Mexico or not?”

Reaper searched his gut but found no guidance. This could very well be a trap, set up by Jack. The lifelong con man might simply be trying to trick him into walking into a well-baited snare, so he could collect a hefty payoff from the CIA. Or from Gregor—Reaper's sworn enemy and Jack's former partner.

“I need to talk to her,” Reaper said at length.

“If she finds out I called you, she'll be madder than ever.”

Reaper sighed. “If this is some kind of a game you're playing, Jack…”

“It's not a game. Or a con.”

Narrowing his eyes, Reaper said, “The CIA's been on my ass all week, Jack. They always seem to know where to find me.”

“Interesting that they never quite find you soon enough to do you any harm, though, isn't it?”

Reaper frowned. “What are you saying?”

“Only that I've known where you were all week. If I wanted to tip them off, help them catch you, I would have done it by now, don't you think?”

It was a valid point. Unless Jack had been playing with him like a cat with a mouse. But that wasn't Jack's M.O. He was out for the payoff—always. He wouldn't waste time in collecting it or take a chance on it slipping away. And the agents
had
been lagging behind him. Always a day late and a dollar short, so to speak.

Maybe he'd misjudged the bastard. Hard to be objective, when he'd felt Topaz's heartache firsthand. Briefly, but he'd felt it. This guy had damn near destroyed her. And Reaper hated him for that. Because in spite of himself, he cared about Topaz. He cared about them all.

In the end, that was what made the decision for him. “I'll contact the others. We'll meet you there. Give me a location.”

 

Jack seemed more attentive, Topaz thought, than he had ever been. His worry and concern for her were a little too convincing, a little too believable. She didn't want to fall into the deadly trap of trusting him again. She knew herself too well.

And yet, she was already halfway there. The ground beneath her feet was crumbling, and she sensed herself getting perilously close to a fall.

She was nearly done for, wasn't she? Her body still craved his touch, still responded to him in a way it never had to any other man. Her heart still cried out for him, still ached for his love, still wept with the knowledge that he was incapable of giving it. And now her mind was following the other parts of her. She was actually beginning to trust him again.

She must be a complete idiot.

They'd been on the road for hours, had taken turns driving. They'd spent the previous day in an abandoned barn, and Topaz had made sure they'd stopped close enough to dawn to avoid any opportunity for sex. Sheer, desperate self-preservation had been her motivation, painful self-denial the result. She wanted him more than she wanted to see another moonrise.

It was 3:00 a.m. They were following the coastline along the midnight sapphire waves of the Gulf, and she distracted herself by staring out the window at the passing waters. They were as dark and deep and every bit as fathomless as her own feelings, and just as unsettled.

“This is it, isn't it?” Jack asked, breaking into her thoughts. Then again, she thought, he was never very far away from her thoughts, was he?

She drew her attention away from the water, focused ahead and saw the entrance to the posh resort, Corona, where she'd booked them a private cottage—
one
private cottage for them to share, because she was a fool—on the beach. “Yes, that's it. Pull up by the front. I'll run in, sign the register and get our keys.”

“I'll come al—”

“No, really. Just wait here.”

He frowned, puzzled. But she'd been in such close proximity to him for so long now that she honestly needed a break. To sit there in that car beside him, remembering with every mile that passed the way it felt to touch him, to be touched by him. Longing to slide closer, to cover his hand with her own, to stroke his neck and lay her head on his shoulder.

Her throat tightened with emotion, and she quickly got out of the car.

The resort was a sprawling complex, the hotel an adobe mansion that hadn't changed a lot since she'd been here last. Ocean prints hung on the walls, and a vaulted ceiling towered high with a cactus-shaped chandelier in the center. The night clerk at the front desk greeted her warmly, her smile broadening when Topaz gave her name—Tanya DuFrane. She saw no need to hide her identity any longer. It was all over the press that she was alive and well and seeking to solve her mother's murder. She would have a hell of a time disappearing again when this was all over.

“
Señorita
DuFrane!” The desk clerk clapped her hands together. “It is an honor to have you with us. It has been years, no?”

The girl couldn't possibly remember her. She would have been a child the last time Topaz was here. But Topaz assumed someone had recognized her name when she'd phoned to book the reservation and had done a bit of homework.

“I am a huge fan of your mother's work,” the clerk went on. “So tragic that the world lost her so soon. And for you, more so, yes?”

“Thank you. Is my bungalow ready?”

“
Si,
ready and waiting. It is
Numero Tres.
Follow the road that curves to the right. You'll see a row of cottages along the beach. It's the off-season, so very few are occupied. Just one other, in fact. You should have all the privacy you could desire.”

“Thank you. I'll need two keys.”

“Of course.” The girl handed them to her. Not modern plastic key cards, but actual keys hanging from tags with numbers on them. “You'll find the number to call when you want to arrange housekeeping service, a schedule of events, a listing of restaurants and another of all our vendors waiting in your cottage. We have boat rentals, Jet Skis, surfing, snorkeling—”

“Yes, thank you. I'm just too tired right now to even think about all that.”

The girl smiled and nodded. “Of course.
Buenas noches,
then,
señorita.
”

“Good night.”

Taking the keys, Topaz went back to Jack's car and got in. He didn't take off right away, just looked at her. “Are you okay, Topaz?”

She glanced at him and nodded. Even knowing it was a lie. She'd never been less okay. She hadn't been okay since he'd walked out on her. And sometimes she wondered if she ever would be again.

Aloud though, she only said, “That way. Cabin Three.”

He looked at her for a long moment, then finally nodded and put the car into motion again. It was only as they pulled up in front of the cabin that Topaz felt the presence of the others. Other vampires lingering nearby in the night. Several of them. She tensed and quickly opened her mind. She'd been trying so hard to block out her feelings for Jack that she'd failed to scan the area.

“It's okay,” Jack said, reaching over to pat her hand as if she were a frightened child. “It's just the gang.”

Frowning, Topaz opened her door, and even as she got out of the car, they came walking from the cabin right beside hers. Reaper, Roxy, Vixen and Seth. She couldn't move for a moment, she was so surprised to see them there. And then, as they closed in around her, and as Roxy wrapped her in a warm embrace, Topaz burst into tears, in spite of her best efforts to hold them back.

 

Jack felt a little bit unwanted, like an outsider, an interloper. The others were like a family as they embraced her and all talked at once. He was unreasonably relieved when he heard someone say that Ilyana and Briar were inside. They were outsiders, too. And in fact, of them all, he thought he would be happiest to see Briar again. So he headed into the cabin marked with the green 2 in search of her, and left the little group to catch up in their sappy way without him.

The cabins were made of adobe, forty by forty or so, with two stories each. They all looked pretty much the same; full front porch, big windows on either side of a red door, clay pottery overflowing with exotic-looking plants, and rattan lawn furniture on each porch.