The Vampyre Legal Chronicles - James (14 page)

Charlotte’s heart thundered in her ears as she moved to rest on her hands and knees on the thick carpet.

Her palms were damp and her vampyre told her to prepare herself.

'For what?'
she asked.

'He must test us,'
came the response.

But before she could ask what sort of test, a big hand pressed firmly between her scapula, forcing her shoulders to the floor.

Her wrists were caught behind her back and raised to rest between her shoulder blades.

She couldn’t move.

And the position raised her hips high in the air leaving her bare bottom vulnerable and exposed.

And unbelievably her nipples became too painfully sensitive as a dark arousal swelled between her legs.

Then Charlotte realized it was her vampyre, finding the entire situation darkly erotic and so turned on, that a warm fluid leaked from her womb.

James didn’t utter a sound.

All she could hear was his unsteady breathing as he fisted himself. Then he stroked the head of his shaft across her slick heat. Evidently her legs weren’t far enough apart because he used his knee to make her open them wider.

The blow of the flat of his hand on her backside was so unexpected her shocked cry pierced the silence.

Then there was another blow on the opposite buttock.

Again and again he took an upswing over burning flesh.

Her sobs caught in her throat as her cheek rubbed against the carpet with every smack of his hand.

Heat spread from her buttocks to the blood pooling between her legs and even into her womb.

She closed her eyes and simply let herself feel.

Of course she’d heard of people indulging in spanking. She’d even included it as one of the things to be enjoyed in her Dirty Little Secrets diary. But never like this. Her shoulder blades burned with the pressure on them as did her arms, her wrists, as he kept them pinned down.

He’d found a steady rhythm now and she realized the way he struck her was not actually inflicting pain but causing a deep and dark pleasure, so erotic, so intense, it felt as if her core was about to spontaneously combust.

Without warning he let her go and stood as she collapsed to the floor at his feet.

Rolling the ache, the stiffness out of her shoulders, Charlotte just lay there melting into the carpet.

A part of her hoped that the worst was over.

While another part of her felt a tiny pang of disappointment.

And then she was lifted on to her feet, her hot cheek now pressed against the coolness of the wall, her wrists again captured in his and placed above her head. Her breasts pressed against the wall but he pulled her hips back, into him.

Oh my God.

Her ankles were nudged wide apart by his.

He pushed her hair across her shoulder, ran his incisors down her neck and growled low in her ear,
"The choice is yours. Walk away now or I take you. If I take you like this, you are mine to do with as I wish, when I wish. Do you understand me?"

The way the muscles low in her belly ached, throbbed, made her moan out loud.

"Take me."

And she didn’t care that she was begging.

But horrifically another part of her rose now.

Magic.

And the realisation that she might not be able to control that magic made her panic.

"Oh no! Wait!"

But it was too late.

Without warning, without pity, he speared inside her and he took her so fast and so furious that oxygen whooshed out of her lungs making her dizzy. Her vampyre was screaming for her to keep control of the mystical energy that now grew within her to surround them. The sound, the scent, of fireworks sparking made her grit her teeth and use brute force to hurl her magic back. But then his hips pistoned causing a friction she couldn’t believe as her orgasm grew from her toes. And with it came an immense surge of magical capability that rose so fast and so furious Charlotte didn't stand a chance in hell to regain self-control.

If this type of magic arose, so powerful, so overwhelming she knew she’d lose James.

She'd lose everything she held dear in this world.

How could she possibly go on living without him?

Her cries of dismay rose as she struggled frantically to move, to pull away, but it was no use.

And her heart broke, divided into two separate pieces as reality struck her too hard that her love for her husband was not enough.

Sorcery held her too tight within its grasp now.

An orgasm so mighty hit as her head flew back as her back arched.

Her heartbroken scream was the last thing she heard.

And Charlotte’s world went dark.

James laid his unconscious wife on their bed and took a shaky step back.

Her flesh was bone white and her hair appeared so black it reminded him of freshly poured ink.

But it was his hands that shook as he studied them with something like awe mixed with wonder and terror. They tingled with a strange silvery blue luminescence like the glow from a laser. He opened and closed his fingers and as he did sparks sizzled and snapped in the air. He didn't feel cold. He felt a strange icy heat, which made no logical sense.

That the fuck?

His breath was sawing in and out of too tight lungs as panic ruled his heart, his head.

Charlotte's eyes snapped open, clung to his before dropping to his hands and he saw those emerald eyes grow huge.

"What’s happened to you?" her voice was no more than a whisper.

"Did you do this to me?" his vampyre's voice was no more than a deep rumble in his chest.

Her head shook in rapid little jerks.

"No! No. At least, I..." Her smooth brow creased as she bit down hard on her trembling bottom lip and a bewildered confusion crossed her face. "I... don’t know.”

He read the shocked fear and the truth in those big green eyes.

"Charlotte, if you have somehow bespelled me, you must..."

He went utterly still as his head cocked as if listening.

Instantly, he knew what had happened.

Hadn't Ezekiel said it was too dangerous to use his magic?

Nature required a balance in all things.

Charlotte's use of magic had attracted dark magic to them, to the spot.

Fuck.

What the hell was going to happen next?

He didn't have long to wait to find out.

The building beneath them juddered.

Vibrations built inexorably into a loud rumble, which became an ear bursting roar of sound.

Heart pounding in his throat, in his ears, James narrowed his eyes to protect them from flashing sparks and lights.

The portal that opened in their reality started as a pin prick, growing exponentially with the sound.

Charlotte screamed, her eyes wide with disbelief, her mouth opened wide as she clutched the sheet to her breast.

James moved to stand between it and his wife.

When Eleanor Pattullo stepped through the portal, his vampyre leapt as he growled a warning and grew in size into a full warrior stance.

Where the hell were his Centuri?

Armed to the teeth, Eleanor was dressed in her vampyre warrior kit of black leather, so soft it could have been painted on her spectacular body. But she wore a thin armour in some sort of black metal over her torso along with a matching helmet that hugged her skull.

"Channelling a new look, battle girl witch bitch?" James asked her in a voice dripping with utter contempt.

His fingers itched to squeeze the life out of her.

But he was naked and weaponless. As an untried newborn vampyre Charlotte was too vulnerable.

Christ, nothing like a challenge.

He swore to God this bitch would not lay a finger on his wife even if it meant he died protecting her.

Cruel eyes, crimson and malignant, took a leisurely scan of his body possessively lingering on his balls, his penis between his legs.

His erection withered and died.

Dream on, bitch, it’s never gonna happen.

Eleanor smirked, her fangs grew and the air around her crackled with a malevolent darkness that seemed to suck in the light and oxygen from the room.

And the noxious door of corruption, oily and acidic, burned the sensitive olfactory nerves of his nostrils.

Black magic.

Fuck.

So Eleanor had betrayed her people and her family.

Jesus, Cristophe Pattullo would make it his mission in life to hunt his daughter down and destroy her.

James dropped into a fighting stance and the way Eleanor simply raised a dark brow and tipped up her chin shot a spear of alarm to the base of his spine.

"You provoked the wrong vampyre, James."

He didn’t pretend not to know what she was talking about and his disgust for her only grew.

"A woman scorned, Ellie? You always were a twisted bitch. And now you’ve turned to black magic? Smacks of desperation to me, abomination."

Her eyes narrowed into slits.

"Semantics, prince. By the time I am finished making you mine, you will be begging for mercy."

"Delusional, too? You need to go on a little trip of self-discovery, straight unto The Fade and it’ll be my great pleasure to send you there."

Eleanor ignored the jibe, ignored the threat, and cocked her head around his torso to take a peek at Charlotte.

Charlotte’s little vampyre’s threatening hiss of response made him proud.

But he knew it had about as much affect on Eleanor’s vampyre and her magic as spitting in the face of a hurricane.

Now those sinister eyes returned to him and narrowed in satisfaction.

"Time's a wasting, prince. You either come quietly or I’ll kill your pathetic excuse of a wife."

The announcement was all it took for James to launch himself at Eleanor.

He was fast.

Very fast.

And he was at the top of his strength, at the top of his game.

But James found himself face down chewing on carpet fibres as Eleanor’s spiky heeled boot pressed down hard on the base of his spine.

He was paralysed, unable to move a single muscle.

Unable to even blink.

Terror for Charlotte gripped his heart and twisted.

Charlotte didn't know what to do, how to help him.

She shifted to kneel on the bed hugging a pillow to hide her nakedness.

The vision that stood before her was an Eleanor Pattullo she found hard to believe existed. The woman who’d befriended her had been kind and understanding. And had then drawn her out and betrayed her, she reminded herself.

The Eleanor who stood before her now had vicious eyes, crimson and merciless, staring down into hers and Charlotte’s vampyre rose to take over, as did something else. Her magic seemed to expand in Eleanor’s presence. She felt it like a living, breathing entity.

What was it Ezekiel had said, something about nature needing balance in all things, including the elements?

But Charlotte was under no illusions about her fledgling magical abilities and didn’t lie to herself that she could win a fight with this warrior.

A warrior who, it appeared, would stop at nothing.

A warrior who wanted
her
husband.

Not a chance, sister.

But then something else materialized in the portal.

A creature so horrific in appearance that Charlotte’s mind refused to believe it was real.

The being stepped into the room. He stood over seven feet tall with a bald head that looked too big for his vast body. His skin was parchment white and pulled too tight across the sharp bones of his face.

Her heart was doing a crazy dance as it battered relentlessly against her ribs. The room spun as black eyes, pitiless, devoid of any emotion stared into hers. And she knew she was looking into the face of Death itself.

Eleanor’s triumphant smile froze the blood pounding through Charlotte’s veins.

"Take her," she instructed the creature in a silky voice.

The earth rumbled and roared as the being simply opened its too large mouth wider until it was a gaping maw and it shrieked a sound that came from the bowels of hell itself.

She heard her vampyre scream as it clung onto the essence of life. But nothing could stop the agony as her soul was torn from her body. And out of the corner of horror filled eyes, Charlotte saw James’s body float up from the carpet.

Eleanor moved to the portal and Charlotte's husband, the love of her life, drifted behind her.

“No!”

Charlotte’s mind screamed and her magic rose to save her from certain destruction.