The Last of the Red-Hot Vampires (18 page)

I admired the cold spot, keeping the thought to myself that the lack of insulation and patchy repairs in the wall were more likely to contribute to the chilly air than an unseen ghostly presence. While the group excitedly took more measurements and made furious notes, I sidled over to Milo.

“So, is your name Lee or Floring?”

He smiled, holding out his hand. “I don't think we ever were properly introduced, were we? It's Lee, Milo Lee. And Carol, my wife, is over there, but you've already deduced that. It must be all that work in physics that gives you an analytical mind, eh?”

“Oh, I don't know, I think people tend to be born left-or right-brained. You're pretty left-brained yourself. What do you do? As an occupation, that is.”

“Customer service for a large corporation. I live to serve,” he said, with a hint of an eye roll and a mock bow.

“Ah. That must be challenging. I don't think I could deal with unhappy people for long.”

“It's horrible. I've hopes to advance very soon, though, so it's an evil I'll bear a bit longer.”

“Good for you. So how long did you say you and your wife have been ghost hunting?”

We passed the next hour chatting about minutiae, both of us watching with indulgent eyes as the ghost group moved from room to room. By the end of the second hour, with nothing to show for their work but some numbers written down from instrument readings, even Sarah's enthusiasm was beginning to drag. We drove back to the pub in relative silence—her in contemplation of the meager proceedings of the evening, and me in anticipation of seeing Theo again.

I went to bed alone, my errant vampire-cum-nephilim still out on his vessel hunt. When I found he wasn't back at the pub, I offered to help him hunt for the Court member, but Theo insisted he was almost done. Even separated by some thirty miles or so, he seemed to sense the exhaustion that was making it hard for me to think. I didn't argue when he ordered me to bed, just sent him an image of what I intended to do to him when he made his way back to me.

My dreams were confused, but much more vivid than I remembered in the past. I woke frequently at little noises in the pub, but, sadly, remained alone. I slipped into a nightmare where giant wasps stung me repeatedly. Slowly it melted into something much more pleasant, the stings of the wasps morphing into little fluttering brushes of wings as the wasps changed into brilliant blue hummingbirds. I writhed with pleasure on the ground, naked, warmed by the sun that shown down with such intensity that I could feel its heat deep inside me, in dark, hidden places that only came to life when Theo was around. The soft, gentle touches of the birds' wings didn't soothe me, however—they made me squirm even harder, leaving me wanting to both escape their oddly erotic touches and pull them tighter to me. One of the birds landed on my belly, giving me a long look with its dark eyes before dipping its head and stabbing at my hip with a long, sharp beak.

“Sweet mother of reason,” I gasped, suddenly awake. Theo's head was bent over my hip, his dark curls brushing against my skin as the pain of his teeth piercing my skin was already melting into something so pleasurable I never wanted him to stop. His fingers fluttered for a moment against aroused, sensitive flesh, then plunged inside me in a move that had me arching back into the bed, my hips rising to meet the movement of his fingers.

Salus invenitur,
Theo moaned into my mind as he drank deep from me.
You taste sweeter than nectar, Portia. How can something so wonderful hurt so bad at the same time?

My body tightened around his fingers, blinding me to everything but the need I felt within him, and the answer that lay within me.

“It's too much,” he said, lifting his head from my hip. His eyes were black as polished ebony, his face hard with hunger and passion and want.

“No,” I said, feeling as if my guts had been strung tight. I pushed him onto his back, and climbed over him. “But this may be.”

He tasted as I knew he would—hot, male, and incredibly wonderful, the firm flesh of his penis both silky soft and as hard as steel. He moaned aloud, his head thrown back against the mattress, both hands clutching the sheets beneath us as I took my time exploring him, reading his mind with ease, noting what drove him into a frenzy.

His rising passion and arousal fed mine. The knee I was straddling while I pleasured him jerked beneath me, pressing tight into my own sensitive flesh. The bolt of ecstasy that ripped through me as a result took me by surprise, but not as much as Theo suddenly grabbing my hips and hauling me up his body, thrusting upward into me as he pressed me down. Existence ceased to be, my world, the entire universe, narrowing to the man beneath me who urged me, with little cries of pleasure, to ride him faster.

How did I exist this long without you?
Theo asked as his mouth closed over my breast, his teeth sinking deep into my soft flesh at the same time he exploded into a tremendous orgasm, the strength of it pushing me over into my own. His body pulsed and pumped into me while I quite simply ceased to be me, the Portia I'd known for thirty-eight years, and became instead the Portia who was part of Theo. I'd never believed that a woman needed a man to be complete, but this was different. This wasn't a matter of social mores or gender issues, or even the biological need for a mate. I knew to the depths of my soul that Theo enriched me in ways that no other human could, and that knowledge shook me.

It's strange, isn't it?
Theo's hands stroked gently up my back as I lay on his chest, my heart thumping wildly in my chest, my breath ragged and jerky against his shoulder.
One minute we're going about our business in life, and the next our beings are so tightly intertwined with someone else's, there's no way to separate them again.

I don't want them separated,
I said without thinking, then realized that what I said sounded weak and cloying.

His hands stilled for a moment.
I could never think you weak, love. You are the strongest woman I know.

I lifted my head to look into his eyes, half fearing there would be pity or something just as painful in them, but to my relief they were filled only with satiation and an unabashed love that made me want to sing with happiness.
I'd say I was sorry this happened, but I'm not sorry. I regret that your soul has been lost through my ignorance, but even that can't dampen the joy you bring me.

Silly woman.
He pulled me back down onto his chest, his body still buried deep inside me. His lips were sweet against mine, his words sweeter still as they brushed gently against my mind.
What's a soul compared to this?

“What are you doing?” Sarah asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down with a smile that was shared between Theo and me.

“Plotting out a battle plan. Good morning, Darla. I'm not feeling myself, so I'll just have toast. I believe Theo wants a traditional breakfast, minus the tomato.”

Theo nodded at the waitress. “Indeed I do. With lots of preserves, please.”

“Since when do you not eat like a horse at breakfast?” Sarah asked when Darla had toddled off to bring us our breakfast orders.

“Since Theo prefers to appear perfectly normal, right down to eating food. Besides, I'm eating for two,” I answered, pushing a piece of paper across the table at her. “This is our plan, so far. What do you think?”

I thought her eyes were going to pop out. “You're eating for two? You're not—”

“No, I meant I'm eating to keep my blood up, so Theo can eat as well.”

“Oh. You scared me there for a minute.” Sarah sipped at her tea while she read over the list. When she got to the good part, she choked. “You can't be serious!”

“Perfectly. It was Theo's idea, actually, but I think it makes a lot of sense.”

“You're going to break into heaven?” She gawked at us, a good old-fashioned, mouth-hanging-open gawk. “You're going to
break
into
heaven
?”

“We're going to enter the Court through a different entrance,” Theo corrected. “Everything I heard last night pointed to the vessel I sought deliberately covering his tracks. Presumably, he's running from the same thing that Hope hinted about to Portia. Since we don't know what that threat is, we're going to have to find the vessel first.”

“But why should we go to the Court if he is in hiding from someone or something?” she asked. “He's hardly going to be there, is he?”

I smiled at her. I loved it when Sarah used the logic I knew she possessed. “No, he won't be there, but something else is—it's the only place we can access the Akashic Records outside of the Akasha itself, and there's no way I'm going back there, thank you very much.”

“Akashic Records?” Her brow furrowed. Darla came in with our breakfast, conducting polite chitchat while she doled out the plates, freshened Sarah's teapot, brought me more coffee, and sent Theo a number of somewhat vapid looks. I brushed a speck of non-existent lint off his shoulder, and cocked an eyebrow at her.

She left with a polite murmur.

Very subtle, sweetling.

I strive for excellence.

“I've heard of the Akashic Record,” Sarah said slowly, spreading jam on a scone. She looked deep in thought. “Isn't it supposed to be some sort of record that God keeps about everything that everyone does?”

I plopped my two pieces of toast onto the mound of food before Theo, swapping our plates. “Evidently that's the mortal definition, which has been skewed over the centuries.”

“The Akashic Record is simply a listing of all beings in the Court of Divine Blood, the Akashic Plain, and Abaddon, respectively,” Theo said, leaning toward me. “That bacon smells good.”

“Want a bite?” I asked, offering him a forkful of egg and bacon.

He looked at it with such avidity that it reminded me of what he'd lost. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, silently shaking his head. “I'd better not.”

Would it make you sick?

I don't know. Christian just said it would likely take my body a while to adjust to the blood diet, and I shouldn't confuse things by trying to eat as well. I dearly love bacon, though.

My heart contracted at the regret in his voice.

“Dark Ones can't eat at all?” Sarah asked, her gaze likewise sympathetic.

“They can, but not for sustenance, and I gather it's only done in situations where it can't be avoided,” Theo answered, his eyes following the path of a piece of bacon as I popped it in my mouth.

What if you just try a little bit? A couple of bites? Just to see how it does?

I don't relish spending the day vomiting, or cramping, or however it is my body would react to solid food.

I felt so guilty that the food turned to dirt in my mouth.

I'm not hungry, sweetling. You satisfied all my hungers earlier this morning,
he said, his mind warm and reassuring in mine.
It's just that I miss the taste of certain foods.

I swallowed the bacon still in my mouth, wiped my fingers on a napkin, and grabbed his head with both hands, pulling him into a kiss. His tongue danced around my mouth, tasting me, teasing me, his moan of pleasure swallowed with my own.

“I'm delighted you've both found each other, happier than you can know, and I'm the last person I think anyone would call a prude, but I am trying to eat here, and it's a bit disconcerting to have people making out on top of my breakfast.”

Theo slowly pulled his head from mine, giving my lower lip a couple of quick nibbles before our mouths separated.

Better?

Much. Although walking is going to be uncomfortable for a bit.

My gaze dropped to his lap. He was clearly aroused.
I hope that is due to me, and not the bacon.

Sweetling, I have yet to be aroused by pork products,
he answered. His eyes grew even blacker.
Unless I'm eating them off of you.

Sarah gave an exaggerated sigh. “Can we get back to the matter at hand?”

It was difficult to dismiss the images Theo sent to me, but I managed, by dint of concentrating on my eggs, to keep from flinging myself on him. “Sure. I take it other than the objection about us sneaking into the Court, you have no other comments?”

“Oh, I have many comments, but I respect you both too much to make them,” she said, waving her fork at the paper. “Where are the Akashic Records?”

“In the library, the same building where the mare have their offices,” I answered, pouring more coffee and holding it out to Theo. A blissful look stole over his face as, his eyes closed, he breathed deeply of its scent.

“In their offices? Well, now I know you're crazy! Just exactly how do you expect to get to the Records without being seen? Won't anyone who sees you know who you are? Won't the mare do something terrible if they find you there?”

“Theo thought of that,” I said with a proud smile at him, sipping my coffee.

“Disguise?” she asked.

“No, the only disguises we could don that would effectively mislead a mare would need to be created by a demon, and we will not go down that path,” Theo answered, taking the lid off the jam pot to smell it.

“Then what—”

“Shall I show you?” I asked, waggling my eyebrows.

Sarah looked confused. “Show me what?”

“We tried this last night, in my room. It's pretty slick, really.” I closed the door to the pub area, striking a dramatic pose in the middle of the room.

“You're not going to make it rain again, are you?” Sarah asked, looking worriedly at her raw silk blouse.

“Nope. This is even better than my own personal rain cloud.” I closed my eyes, imagining the humidity creeping up until it was a hundred percent, followed by the temperature dropping below the dew point. Moisture from the surface of the earth was drawn forth and began to evaporate, condensing, moving upward to cool.

“Oh my god,” Sarah said, her voice rife with awe.

I opened my eyes and smiled. “I'm a fog machine!”

“This is incredible,” she said, batting at the billows of fog that filled the small room. “I can't believe you can control this!”

“It's an art,” I said modestly, admiring the dense fog that began to obscure the objects in the room.

“And you're going to fill the Court with fog in order to sneak in? Oh, this I have to see!”

I opened a window and began to dissipate the fog.

“Erm…Sarah…I don't think the Court would be the best place for you,” Theo said, looking uncomfortable.

“Why?” she demanded.

“Well, for one, mortals aren't allowed in it except by special dispensation.”

She frowned. “Portia's mortal.”

Theo glanced at me. “Yes, but she's a virtue. That means she's on the road to immortality, and can conceivably have legitimate business in the Court.”

“That's splitting hairs, and you know it,” she said, waving away his objections. “I think I should go with you. No one will see me if it's all foggy, so no one will know I was there.”

“She has a point,” I said, watching Theo. “We're not supposed to be there either, so what's the difference in her sneaking in along with us? Is there any reason she shouldn't come?”

“Well…”

“Excellent! I'll go get my things,” she said, cramming in the last of her toast before dashing from the room, scattering promises to be back before we knew it.

“If she gets caught—” Theo started to say.

I interrupted him. “If we get caught, we're going to be in a whole lot more trouble than she will ever be in. So let's go with the thought that we're not going to get caught, and instead focus on the end goal.”

Theo smiled, took my hand, and began nibbling on my fingertips. Little zings of electricity skittered through me at his touch. “You are so delightfully single-minded. Very well, we will hope for the best.”

 

There was a faint echo of unease in the back of his mind, but it was too vague for me to pinpoint. Regardless, I was a bit worried as we drove down the coast to the castle in which the entrance to the Court of Divine Blood was located. What if I couldn't perform when the time came? What would happen if Theo and I were caught? Would Sarah be in any trouble if she was seen? What if the Akashic Record didn't help us?

“Too many ifs,” I said to myself.

“What is too manieeee!”

Sarah's screech filled the car, causing me to lurch forward, my hands over my ears, and startling Theo to such extent that the car jerked off the road, bounded over a small hill that ran between the road and the marshy coast, and hurtled down a slippery slope toward a large log which had been washed ashore.

Theo swore, yanking at the steering wheel, pumping the brakes to get the car to stop without flipping.

“Bloody badgers, what's going on here?” a gruff woman's voice asked from the backseat.

“Merciful heaven! Stop!” another woman cried, grabbing Theo by the shoulders and shaking him.

The car fishtailed, hit the rocky shale that merged into the soft, mucky, marshy shore, and finally crashed to a halt in a huge mountain of discarded oyster shells. Seabirds, which had been picking through the shells, rose in a cloud of squawking protests. The screaming from the backseat stopped. I turned, shaking and no doubt white from shock, to look at Theo, asking him at the same time he asked me, “Are you all right?”

“I'm OK,” I answered him, craning around to look behind us. Sarah was nowhere to be seen, but two horribly familiar—if disordered—faces stared back at me. “What are you two doing here? And where is Sarah?”

“On the floor. Stop stepping on me.” Sarah's head emerged from behind the seat, her hair mussed, her face flushed with emotion. “Ow. I hit my head. What happened?”

“That's what I'd like to know,” Theo said, unsnapping his seat belt so he could turn around and glare at the people in the backseat. “Who are you two, and why have you materialized in my car?”

“They are the two women who administered my first trial,” I answered, adding my own glare to Theo's. I pointed at the smaller woman. “That's Tansy. She's the one who beat me up.”

“I didn't mean to,” Tansy answered, wringing her hands. Both women were dressed just as they were a few days ago, Tansy still appearing like someone's beloved grandmother. “But you simply wouldn't defend yourself.”

I ignored that. “The other woman is named Letty, I believe.”

“Leticia de Maurier,” the Dame Margaret woman answered, her voice stiff. She looked down her long nose at us. “We are trial proctors, nephilim. You will not question the ways of those of the Court of Divine Blood.”

“We'll question whoever and whatever we want,” I said grimly, watching Theo as he forced the car door open and got out. He half slid down the slope of oyster shells, fighting his way around to my side of the car. “You could have killed us!”

“Don't be silly—we're all immortal here. Well, almost all immortal,” Dame Margaret said with a sour look at Sarah. “We are here to administer your next trial, naturally. Shall we commence?”

“Here?” I asked, allowing Theo to help me out of the car. We'd stopped at the bottom of a huge mountain of oyster shells, the back wheels of the car sunk deep into the mucky, muddy marshland. Overhead, the gulls and shorebirds we'd dislodged cried out their objections. The stench of rotting seaweed and brackish water in small, stagnant tidal pools was enough to trigger my gag reflex.

“No time like the present,” Tansy said cheerfully as Theo held her arm while she slid her way down the oyster shells to a small spar of solid ground. “Thank you, dear boy. So handsome!”

“And very much taken,” I said, grumbling as I picked my way down the shells. As I reached the bottom of the slope, I lost my footing, my arms cartwheeling like crazy as I fell the last couple of feet, rolling into the same muck that held the car's back tires prisoners. The mud was black, and smelled of decomposing matter, fish, and other unsavory odors I refused to identify.

“Oh, Portia!” Sarah cried from the safety of the oyster mound.

Theo lifted her and plopped her down onto the same solid piece of land that both Tansy and Dame Margaret occupied before starting toward me.

“No, stay back,” I said, trying to rise. “You'll just sink in up to your knees. I'm not hurt, just filthy.”