Retribution (Book 3 of The Dominion Series) (51 page)

I stay with Dylan at a different cottage in Davis Cove – one that is better designed and fixed up after the ravages of the plague. We're close to the Rhys family and far from Boston where Michel and Julien are. Under his tutelage, I drink blood and learn to deal with the cravings, determining how long I can go without feeling out of control and how much I need to keep cravings at bay.

Nothing diminishes the craving, except blood.

I drink from the glass bottle filled with blood, and feel immediate pleasure and then relief but soon, all too soon, the craving returns and builds over the course of a day or so. By the end of twenty-four hours, I'm almost beside myself with bloodlust and even the older woman with shabby stockings and floppy grey hair who comes to clean the house looks appealing.

Dylan sees me staring at her one morning as we're reading the latest edition of the Davis Cove Register, printed using some old hand-powered printing press. We've had our breakfast and are sitting in the warmth of the kitchen with the morning sun streaming in through UV shaded glass.

I'm trying to push my boundaries to see when I lose control and I can't help but notice her bending over a pail as she mops the entry floor. I can smell her blood from where I sit and it smells so much better than the blood in the bottle. It smells warm. I can hear her heartbeat and it's so inviting. I want to bite her flesh and my teeth elongate the way they do when I drink from the bottle.

I have yet to actually bite a human and drink their blood. Dylan promised to let me decide when I was ready for such an event. There are still volunteers who want to be bitten and there will be several willing, when I'm psychologically ready.

"Don't wait too long," Dylan advises. "You need the human connection of a blood feed to keep your humanity from fading."

I feel ready now but the cleaning lady is not a volunteer. Dylan must see my face change into hunter mode and he takes my hand and shakes his head. He pulls me out of the kitchen, and I keep my face hidden so she doesn't see me and freak out. We go into the bedroom and he hands me a bottle and I drink it down in nearly one pull I'm so in need.

"You really must feed on a human," he says to me, watching me as I finish the blood, sucking down every last drop. "Don't be so stubborn."

I wave him away. "I will, I will."

"When? If I wasn't here, I suspect you'd have had her already and who knows if you'd be able to stop?"

"OK," I say, annoyed that he's right. "Soon."

There's just a part of me that wants to postpone that first real feed as long as I can. It seems too intimate to do with a complete stranger. Even I know how sexual it will become and that just scares me. There have only been two men I've ever really been sexual with – that I've really wanted.

Michel and Julien.

I haven't seen either of them for two weeks. I've spent this time trying to figure out what I'm going to do about them.

I love them both. They love me, each in their own particular way. How can I choose between them? How can I be with one and not with the other? Whose heart do I break besides my own by choosing one over the other?

I lay on my bed and Dylan leaves me alone, closing the door behind him. He knows that after a feed, I have to try to deal with the arousal in some way and so he gives me time and space.

With the blood flowing through my system, I'm so aroused and I can't help but think of both Michel and Julien. Where are they even now?

Is Michel sitting at the piano in his cottage in Ipswich with a glass of blood, playing his sad Chopin piece, wondering how I am? Is Julien staring out the window of his warehouse in Boston, thinking of our time in Davis Cove, wishing he were here with me?

As I fight my desire, I write a separate note to each of them with my decision. I'll send them in the post tomorrow. There's a new pony express to take written messages between cities along the coast. Now, everything old is new again. I grew up in an age of iPhones and wireless internet and instantaneous communication. Now, we use HAM radios from the pre-WWI era, and pony express. We haven't even got the telegraph system up and running yet. All the wiring used plastics.

My decision isn’t the kind I want sent over the radio.

A few days later, I'm alone in Davis Cove, walking the beach. It's a cold evening and I'm dressed in a thick wool sweater and old leather boots, a woolen scarf around my neck against the cold wind that blows in off the ocean. Dylan's going to try to find the formula for Blackstone's day-walking drug because I don't want to drink the waters of life – not yet. I will take Blackstone's drug so I won't be trapped inside during the day, but it may be a while. Things are so disrupted because of the plague.

Dylan's gone to stay in Boston for the next week, staying at his apartment so he can attend a few lectures at MIT where some stalwart professors have decided to keep the institution running despite the lack of power. He leaves me alone with a phalanx of guards to watch over me and an icebox filled with bottles of blood, one for each of the five days he'll be away.

I walk along the shore, aware of the two guards trailing behind a hundred yards away. Ahead, I see a figure walking towards me. The moon is out and shines on the sea foam, making it glow. As he nears, I see him more clearly and once he's close enough, I see his smile. Such a brilliant smile.

He says nothing, just comes to me, wrapping his arms around me, kissing me deeply, squeezing me so tightly I think I'll break, except I'm a vampire now and bloody hard to kill.

"Julien," I say when he pulls away. "I'm so glad you decided to come."

"How could I ever deny you anything?"

He kisses me again, and when we connect, I feel his need and it ignites my own.

"I want you right now," he whispers in my ear, pulling me against his body. "Right here on the sand. Tell your guards to fuck off."

"I'm not getting sand in my," I say and laugh. "My…
you
know
…"

He grins at me. "Your
you know
?" he says and laughs with me. "
Eve
…" He nuzzles my neck, his mouth against my ear. "It's your
pussy
," he whispers. "And I missed your sweet little pussy so much, you just
can't
imagine."

"Just my…
pussy?
" I say, smiling back, still awkward with that word.

"You
and
your pussy. It’s a package deal," he says and wags his eyebrows.

I take his hand and pull him back towards the cottage.

"I want you in a warm bath with me and then in my bed. And later, in front of the fire, and then maybe on the couch."

"Gotta love a new vampire," he says and shakes his head. "Insatiable, are you? It must have been difficult stuck here with only your brother as company."

"It's been wonderful in one way, but hell in another."

We walk back to the cottage, hand in hand, and he tells me about the goings-on at the SCU where he's working, trying to get it set up again and working despite the lack of power and technology, but his voice is a bit shaky and I know it's lust. When we arrive, the guards return to their positions around the property and Julien and I go inside. There's a palpable sexual tension between us as both of us know what's going to happen.

I go to the bathroom and pour one more bucket of hot water from the fireplace into the bath, pouring in some of the sandalwood bath salts. Julien comes into the bathroom and I turn to face him. He stands a foot away from me and looks me over from head to toe.

"I was afraid I'd never be with you again," he says. "I was afraid I'd never be released from the compulsion. I was afraid you'd choose Michel. Or neither of us."

"I considered throwing you both over for celibacy, but that's just not in the cards."

He smiles and runs his fingers over my cheek and then down over the curves of my breasts, touching the crucifix Michel gave me.

"That thing safe?"

I bend my head and look at it, touching it with a finger. "Yes, Dylan assures me it's no threat to us. If there's any residue left, we're immune."

"Do you
have
to wear that?" he says, touching Michel's slave collar.

"Does it bother you?"

He steps closer and puts his arms around me, pulling me against him. "Huge old green-eyed monster here, Eve. You should already know."

I sigh and start to take it off, but he stops me. "No," he says, shaking his head. "Forget it. I know it has meaning for you."

"Thank you," I say and leave the collar on.

He starts undressing me, and I hear his breathing increase, I feel his arousal rise as he strips my clothes off, piece by piece. I undress him as well and when he comes to my panties, he kneels down and strips them off. I step out of them and he's face to face with my hips.

"Oh,
fuck
, you're
shaved
…" He looks up at me with such lust, it takes my breath away.  "But its time for another one. I know just the person who'd
love
to do it."

Then he runs his fingers over the brand Michel gave me.

"He branded you? Possessive bastard," he says, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry if it bothers you. The shaving and the brand were part of the contract."

"No," he says and shakes his head. "No, I would have done the same. Besides, the
fleur-de-lis
is the symbol of my house as well, so technically, it could be mine." He kisses me there and then stands up so I can finish undressing him. Soon we're both naked in each other's arms and I feel drunk on lust as we kiss, the pressure of his erection against my belly making me almost dizzy.

"Oh, God, I want you so much," he says.

"I want you so much," I whisper, almost choking with desire. But I turn him around and push him towards the tub. "First things first."

"Women," he says, all mock-angry. He steps in and sits in the water and then I step in after him and submerge. There's too much water in the tub and some spills over onto the floor.

"Oh, damn," I say and start to stand, but he stops me.

"Screw it," he says and pulls me over to him. I lie on top of him and he slides down, his knees opening so that I'm between them. We lie in the warm water, kissing, our kisses growing more intense, our connection making it all the more powerful. I sit up and hand him a bar of soap and he makes a stab at lathering up, then starts to slide his soapy fingers between my thighs, and I have to close my eyes because it feels so good.

He takes the razor from the shelf by the tub and starts to shave me.

"Put your foot up on the side of the tub," he says, lifting my foot and placing it on the side. He shaves me, his brow furrowed in concentration, then rinses me off and checks his work. "Perfect." He kisses me there, his hands on my hips and I close my eyes, barely able to wait for the bath to finish.

He lathers his hands again and stands up, washing my shoulders, but then he shakes his head.

"Fuck it," he says and throws the soap down, rinsing me off and then pulling me out of the tub and into the bedroom where a fire is glowing in the hearth, candles lit around the room. We're both still wet as we fall onto the bed, our bodies sliding against each other. We need no words for our connection ensures both of us know what the other wants.

He wants me to feed from him. He knows it will be my first real feed and because it's vampire blood, it will be even more intense than if I was feeding on a mortal. I push him onto the bed and he sighs heavily, his arms outstretched above his head. I lie on top of him and kiss him briefly, but I know what he wants and I'm going to give it to him because I want it, too.

I run my mouth over his chest, nipping softly at both nipples and then trailing my tongue over his hips, down his belly to his groin where his erection lies thick and hard, the head wet with his fluid. I run my lips and tongue up and down his length several times and then suck him into my mouth, sliding over the head while my tongue caresses the rim.

Then, I move off him, spreading his thighs and he moans with pleasure as he waits.

I bite him, my fangs extended, and it feels so damn good to finally bite someone, that I shudder along with him. I suck at the wound on his groin, my hair brushing his scrotum, one hand on his shaft. I could make him come like this, just sucking the wound, stroking him, but I want him inside me right away while I'm still high on his blood.

Soon, I'm lost in the sensations of his blood in me, nursing at the wound, swallowing his blood like it's my drug, which it is.

"Eve," he whispers. "You have to stop."

He pulls me away from the wound and up to his mouth, which I kiss and he tastes his own blood on me. He lifts me onto his lap and I sit on him, and he fills me up so well that I gasp with pleasure. Then he bites my neck, drinking my blood while I ride him and we feel so much bliss, I don’t know how we can bear it.

But we do.

The rest of the week passes this way, with Julien and I spending our time back together in bed or on the floor in front of the fire, or against the wall in the shower. At night we walk the beach when the weather permits and sleep during the day. Finally, it's Friday and Julien has to leave. He rises early, after we've only been asleep for a few hours.