Tasting Thanatos Shona Husk Etienne, sometimes known as Thanatos, wants to feel again. Anything—pain, pleasure, hunger, thirst. He lost all sensation after being tortured during the French Revolution. His quest has led to a love of body piercing and delivers him into the hands of lovely but aloof fellow Vampire Maria. Maria avoids her kind, and represses the urge to drink the blood of her lovers. The first time she bit, she killed, and she’s terrified of making the same mistake again. Instead she finds satisfaction through piercing. Until Etienne lays down a challenge— make me feel. He wants her to take him in every way, to mark his soul. And to do that, Maria must embrace every part of her vampire nature.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Tasting Thanatos ISBN 9781419934049 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Tasting Thanatos Copyright © 2011 Shona Husk Edited by Briana St. James Cover art by Syneca Electronic book publication May 2011 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
TASTING THANATOS
Shona Husk
Shona Husk
Chapter One Maria needed to skewer someone. At this point she’d take anything, even a navel piercing, just to feel the needle push through flesh and watch her victim flinch. Boredom crawled over her like an ant searching for food. Some days just blew. She flicked the edge of the latest gossip magazine with a long nail. They needed to be redone. The polish was starting to chip. She picked at the edge until a flake of pink polish broke free. Beneath the paint and acrylic nail, her own damaged fingernail was hidden. The only scars that hadn’t healed were her ruined nail beds, so she hid them behind fancy polish and long false nails. The door chimed. She looked up, a smile pasted on, and dropped her hand to her side as the customer strolled in. Tall and self-assured, he was just the kind she liked to pierce. The scent of arrogance clung to him, but he’d still bleed the same as everyone else. Her smile came to life and her fangs tingled as the dark desire awoke at the thought of spilling his blood. He nodded at her, held her gaze for a moment too long and then turned his attention to the jewelry on display. While his gaze wasn’t on her, Maria gave him a more thorough once-over. Attractive in a dangerous kind of way. He didn’t give off the try-hard air of a poser who thought having a few bits of metal through his skin and a shaved head would make him look hard. She ran her tongue over her teeth, but knew no piercing would satisfy the craving to taste his blood. His presence in her shop disturbed the need she kept carefully chained. Had it been too long between tastes already? She didn’t need blood to live, but sometimes the craving got too much…and this man made her want with just a casual glance.
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She swallowed and forced herself to notice his piercings and not the curve of muscle barely concealed by his snug t-shirt. One ear had two piercings, a horizontal scaffold and a vertical industrial, threaded through the cartilage to form a cross. His other ear sported a stretched lobe with a plug she could’ve slipped the tip of her little finger into. Her gaze settled on the most exotic piercings she could see. On the underside of his jaw was a ball, the other end of the bar would be under his tongue. A mandible piercing. Her mouth curved in a grin. Mandible piercings were like having a javelin slammed up through the jaw and into the mouth, painful and slow to heal. Pity he wasn’t here for one. Her gaze dropped to his chest, where tiny bumps pressed against the fabric of his shirt. Pity she couldn’t see the rest of the ones he was hiding. Her gaze lowered to jeans, where the denim cupped his crotch in a way that made her want to peel open his fly and have look at what else was pierced. A pity indeed. A hot shiver ran through her and ended in her belly with an explosion of soft heat. It hadn’t been that long between lovers that she was desperate for the first tall, dark and handsome who walked into her shop. Maria forced out a slow breath and got her lust under control. “Can I help you?” Please don’t just buy jewelry. If he took off his shirt, she could check him out a little closer. There was something about him that she wanted. Her blood warmed at the thought of getting close, skin to skin, with this man. That he evoked such a strong reaction should have been warning enough and enough of a reason to hurry him out. Desire led to a craving for blood and she never mixed sex and food. She never bit anyone—it was too dangerous. She licked her lower lip. He was dangerous. “No.” The man turned and smiled as if laughing at a private joke. “But you can pierce me.” His eyes were unreadable, endless depths of flat, black nothing. How many souls had died trying to fill the void? Maria wrenched her gaze away before he claimed another victim.
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“Sure, where’d you have in mind?” With luck, somewhere that would hurt. Seeing him in pain would dampen her need to bite, but her fangs disagreed. They pressed against her jaw until her mouth ached. There would be one less mouse in the cage tonight, but its blood would be a poor substitute when she’d be thinking of this man. His black eyes seemed to absorb her body, melting the walls she’d built over three decades and tying her belly in knots of need. Her body acted as if had been years between lovers, not months. She fought the urge to step back from the scrutiny, lifted her chin and met his gaze with what she hoped was fiery resistance and not heated desire. She didn’t need anyone. His mouth turned up on one side. Lips made for sinning and lying. “My cock.”
The words were off Etienne’s tongue before he could stop them. He’d only come in to have a rung replaced in the ladder of piercings that ran from nipple to collarbone, but there was something in the glint of the woman’s eyes that tempted him to go further. Something he recognized. A longing, a hunger, and he wanted to satisfy her craving. And his body thought so too. It was always better when his mind and body agreed. Her eyebrows lifted a fraction—surprise? Then her gaze skimmed over him as if appraising him, and he had the distinct feeling she was going to find him wanting. That didn’t happen too often. Women, human or Vampire, threw themselves at him—well, not all the time, only when he was on stage and dressed as Thanatos. “Wouldn’t you rather have a male piercer attend you?” “Nope.” He liked the idea of watching her handle his shaft even if he couldn’t feel her touch. His most precious memories were those of how it had felt to have a lover’s fingers on his skin. They were closely followed by the sensation of tasting said lover’s blood. After a couple of centuries, those memories were getting dulled with age and use. But they were the only thing the Revolutionaries hadn’t been able to take.
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While his contemporaries had died on the guillotine, he had been tortured. His captor’s hatred and fear of his kind had saved him. Now he chased the need to feel. He hadn’t found it in meditation or celibacy. When William had suggested re-forming the band, it had seemed like a good idea. In music he found peace if nothing else. The woman’s eyelashes fluttered as she glanced away. A flush crept up her cheeks, turning her olive skin pink. Etienne backtracked. He hadn’t meant to cause offense. “Unless you are uncomfortable piercing such an intimate area.” He placed his hands on the counter and his smile almost slipped off and broke as he inhaled her sweet scent. She was Vampire. How had he missed that? Usually it was easy to pick out another Vamp among the humans. But not this woman. He let his gaze roam over her features again. With her wide cheekbones, perfect pout and arched eyebrows, she could have been a 1940s pinup. Maybe she had been. She could be aged from twenty years to…anything. Vampires didn’t die from natural causes. She recovered her composure first and placed a form on the counter. “Not at all.” She handed him a pen. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the process.” Her mouth curved in a pale smile, but her eyes remained hungry. He’d gladly spill some blood to have a chance with her. He liked a challenge; it would make a change for him to be doing the chasing. As he filled in the paperwork, his gaze kept traveling back to the female Vampire watching him watching her. This would be fun.
Maria let her gaze slide from his long fingers, up his arm. She paused on his throat, where his pulse beckoned, a flicker beneath his skin that echoed in her ears. She ran her tongue over her teeth and tried to ignore the desire burning in her veins. It was one thing to want someone, but another to need someone. And she knew this someone.
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The thought stuck like a splinter at the edge of her conscience She was sure she hadn’t pierced him before. A man like him would stay in her mind and linger like a post-climax sigh. They could have met any time over her short fifty years. Even though she couldn’t place him in her memories, she wasn’t going to ask. So she peeked beneath her lashes and tried to read his details off the form. His writing was illegible upside down, all loops, as if a drunken worm had rolled in an ink pot before falling on the page and crawling home. His writing gave him away—nobody born this side of World War I wrote like that. He was Vampire. The same faulty DNA marked them both and she had no interest in her own kind. And she was sure they would have no interest in her if they knew what she’d done. Her lust retreated in surprise, but not far enough so she could lock it away and forget about tasting the Vampire in front of her. He lifted his head. “Why don’t you just ask?” Maria shrugged as if she didn’t care. “Etienne,” he offered. His name meant nothing, but Vampires regularly changed their names, their identities, to stay out of sight of the humans who would either persecute or seek to use them for medical or military research, depending on the decade. “Maria.” The silence expanded. He was watching her a little too intently. She turned the form around and skimmed it for further clues, knowing there wouldn’t be any. She must be mistaking him for someone else. She’d have remembered those lips, sensuous to snarl in a blink. “A French name, but you don’t have an accent.” She tried to sound casual, when all she wanted was to feel his mouth on her hers. She never felt that way about anyone— sex was about satisfying a craving and then moving on before they realized what she was—especially not a Vampire.
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“I haven’t lived in France for a very long time.” Etienne placed the pen on the counter. So he was old. For a Vampire he looked old. He wouldn’t pass for a human less than forty. Sometime in his life he’d been given a rough time. Vampires didn’t age unless they were starved of the etheric blood contained. She’d seen the effect firsthand. Watched her mother grow old faster than any human could, her eyes bleached white with the need for blood. “Paris is supposed to be beautiful.” For a moment Etienne’s gaze softened as if he wasn’t in her shop, and he was lost in his own thoughts. His eyes refocused on Maria. “I guess it is, when it’s not awash with blood.” No anger distorted his voice. Whatever had happened, Etienne wasn’t sharing. Maria didn’t pry, pretending to care was just part of her bedside manner. “What type of piercing did you have in mind?” She was half hoping he’d change his mind and leave. Stabbing him with a needle would be more temptation than relief. She pressed her teeth together to keep her fangs from descending and ruining her masquerade. “Got any favorites?” Maria rolled her eyes. Like she hadn’t heard that line before. “Apadravya. The needle goes vertically through the glans. Takes up to twelve months to heal.” A couple of men had fainted. The memory raised a smile. Then she glanced at Etienne and sighed. He wouldn’t be another. He’d heal faster than a human. Vampires just weren’t as much fun. “Sounds nice.” He said it as if agreeing to the day’s special at a restaurant. Maria turned away to hide her scowl. Just her luck to get a freak who enjoyed being pierced. For half a second she considered telling him to come back on her day off, but
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the urge to drive a ten-gauge needle through his shaft won, so she smiled and bit her tongue. “Come through.” She opened the door to the private piercing room. Her sanctuary. Here, she was in control. Her clients the victims. “Take your pants off and lay down.” “Are you always this abrupt?” Etienne said as he unbuttoned his jeans. Not always. She usually made more of an effort but he wasn’t her usual clientele. She generally avoided other Vampires, but she was drawn to him like moth with a fatal attraction to fire. Her gaze tracked his movements as he shucked off his jeans without the slightest sign of modesty. He lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. His hands folded on his stomach. Unnaturally calm, he disturbed her peace just by breathing. He was unsettling even for a Vampire. Tension tightened her stomach and prickled along her skin, and then the old fear broke free and the room became tiny. In her mind, she was caged again. Panic crept through her body, stealing her strength. Her hands trembled, so she fisted them to hide her weakness. She would not have a panic attack now. She could get through this. Maria blinked slowly, forcing herself back to the present. If the reality hadn’t killed her over thirty years ago, the memories had no chance. But being close to Vampires always made her edgy. What if she lost control again? What if she killed again? No, she wouldn’t because she didn’t bite. She didn’t taste Vampire or human blood, only the blood of the mice she kept had to face her true nature and she made sure they didn’t suffer. She had boundaries and they kept her safe. With a deep breath she shook off the fear. Just pierce Etienne and get him out. This was her place. She snapped on a pair of latex gloves and picked up a permanent marker. With a Vampire, using gloves was a waste of time. Vampires didn’t get sick. Ever. But humans expected gloves and her licensing required them, so she obeyed.
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Etienne lay still while she examined the head of his cock for piercing. He closed his eyes and could’ve been sleeping, except for the tension that crinkled the corners of his eyes. If they’d ever fucked, she would definitely have remembered him. Thick from head to root with a nice shaved sac. But since she’d never been with a Vampire, that was impossible. If he wasn’t Vampire, she would’ve been interested. Very interested. “Ever pierced your penis before?” “Yep.” There were no marks, but then there wouldn’t be. The etheric Vampires consumed in blood ensured they healed fast and generally without scarring. Something the military had been interested in. They’d tested extensively on adults as well as children. The panic threatened to rise again, but she pushed it down and concentrated on the job. “What happened to them?” “Got bored with them.” She cleaned his skin with antiseptic. More like he took them out before they healed. In which case this one wouldn’t last long. “Healing hurt too much?” Even Vampires felt pain while they were healing. Etienne lifted his head and looked at her. She slid into the black of his eyes. Soulless. “Lady, I haven’t felt anything in over two hundred years.” He was lying to her while she held his shaft? What he claimed was impossible. It was unattainable. It was perfect. All the times she’d wished she couldn’t feel the broken bones or wounds inflicted to study the healing response. She’d learned Vampire children didn’t heal as fast as adults…but then Vampire children shouldn’t consume blood. “Are you going to mark it or just have a feel?”
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Maria snapped her attention back to the head of his cock. She placed two dots, one on top and one on the underside. Whoever rode him would get a nice thrill—if he left the bar in. “Happy?” she asked. Etienne nodded and lay back down as if he did this every other day. Maybe he did. Maria relaxed. Piercing while he watched would have been too odd. From the trolley, she selected a sterile needle and jewelry. She pressed her lips together and opened the needle packet. A tingle raced down her spine, the warm rush that preceded any piercing. Usually piercing subdued her urge to bite. But not today. It was her fangs she wanted to sink into his flesh while she listened to him gasp and call her name. Etienne hadn’t moved. He was unaware of the turmoil he was causing. Could it be true that he didn’t feel? The needle in her hand became hot. She needed to know. Before she could rethink, she jammed the needle into the back of his hand. He didn’t flinch. “Shit.” Maria stared at the needle standing like a flag pole in his hand as if she’d claimed a new territory. He opened his eyes, his gaze following hers. “Your aim isn’t good.” He pulled the embedded needle out and handed it back to her. “Try again.” “Shit.” Maria’s fingers closed around the thin tube of metal coated with crimson. “You really can’t feel.” “I told you that.” Blood welled on the back of his hand. She’d struck it rich. A vein waiting to be tapped. Her incisors ached for a taste. The smell was like brandy, old, smooth. Lust intoxicated her, warming her from the inside as if she’d already had a shot of the finest liquor. “You feel nothing.” Her voice was breathy as the scent of Vampire blood spiked her desire higher and need dampened her panties. She wanted him now, in a way she’d
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never wanted anyone. But Etienne wasn’t anyone. He was a Vampire who couldn’t feel. He was perfect. The swelling bubble of blood burst and formed a small rivulet that collected against the wide leather cuff of his watch before dripping onto the floor. Etienne sat up, his legs too long for the plastic covered bed. “If you wanted a taste, all you had to do was ask.” Her glaze flicked up from his blood to his face. He knew she was Vampire. His half smile revealed fangs. Thin razor-sharp points of white. Her belly tightened—but not with fear. She wanted this Vampire who couldn’t feel. Maria drew in a breath and searched for calm among the storm of need washing through her blood. She could think of him tonight, imagine his hands on her. Her teeth in his skin. Slowly she exhaled. No. There would be no biting. Not even in her fantasies. “I don’t want a taste.” Her incisors throbbed as she battled to keep them hidden. She was stronger than this. She could control her cravings and satisfy them without giving in to them. Etienne brought his hand to his mouth. His black eyes never left her as his tongue flicked out toward the scarlet blood. She couldn’t look away. She was trapped in the endless night of his gaze. From the corner of her eye she saw his cock rise. The scent of blood and sex filled every pore of her skin. And she was drowning. Losing the battle between what she was and what she wanted to forget. His tongue connected with his blood. Each beat of his heart pushed more blood out of the wound. Her heart beat double time, her tongue pressed against the backs of her teeth, need quivering in her pussy. What would it be like to give in? To taste—without biting, without the risk of doing damage? She’d never just tasted. Never let herself. Never wanted to…until now. Her incisors lengthened and sharpened, a reflex she’d spend years denying. She could accept his offer to taste. To sample something richer than the mouse blood she
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allowed herself when the craving for blood became too much. Maria linked her fingers with his and bought his injured hand to her mouth, kissing the damage she’d caused. The taste of Etienne was like drowning in a vat of aged wine. Liquid lust burned through her, breaking down decades of carefully constructed walls. She could sink and never be found, lost in the sediment, lost in the need for more. Lost in desire. Etienne moved his head and their lips connected. He licked the blood from her mouth with a gentle caress and the needle fell from her hand and rolled over the floor. His fingers traced the shape of her face and undid the clip in her hair so he could cradle the back of her neck as he claimed her mouth. She moaned as the intoxication spread, heat pooling between her thighs and slicking her pussy. She grasped his cock, hot silk in her grip, tempting him to go further. Then she ran her nail over the delicate skin, expecting a yelp or a show of weakness. Nothing. Maria jerked away. The red score mark marred Etienne’s skin. Etienne looked down. “My body works. I just can’t feel it.” He sounded so casual about the defect in his being. “Why bother?” She ran the pad of one finger over the scratch on his cock. The temptation to do more damage simmered, barely contained. She could do whatever she wanted to him and he wouldn’t feel a thing—and in a day or so he’d be fully healed. “Because I remember.” He placed his hand over hers, working their hands over his shaft as he watched the slide of flesh on flesh, slowly and carefully as if he didn’t want to rush the show. “I wasn’t born this way.” “I can’t pierce you with a hard-on.” No, but there were other things she’d like to do to him, with him. Things that broke every one of her rules. “Fuck the piercing, I want you.” Her eyes widened, then she kissed him, hard.
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If that wasn’t an agreement, he didn’t know what was. It had been a while since the chemicals of lust had triggered such a strong reaction, or maybe he’d just missed the reaction because he wasn’t paying attention. The trouble with a lack of feeling was missing things. Like the glide of her hand over his cock. Watching her fingers smooth over the head, swipe the bead of come from the slit and stroke back down should have evoked a shudder of pleasure. It hadn’t. Sure, his heart had quickened while he’d watched, but if he looked away she could be petting his leg and he wouldn’t be any the wiser. Maria ran her nails over his balls, lighter this time so she left no mark. The sight of those long pink nails dragging over his skin was rather nice. He was willing to bet the feel would be even better. “Do that again.” She did. Slower, taking her time to curl her hand around his sac as if she was aware how closely he was watching. She cupped him and then scratched her way up the length of his cock to the glans. His shaft twitched in response, but it wasn’t her touch that caused the response. “Did you feel it?” Her voice was breathy as if she was enjoying the effect it should be having on him, a mix of pleasure and pain. He’d have taken either, feeling anything would be better than the numbness that encased him. Her grip on his shaft tightened for a moment as she gave him a rough stroke that he’d have given anything to feel. “Hell, no. But it looks hot.” And that was all he had to go on when it came to sex. He relied on sight and memory but was always aware something was missing. Before she could speak and he could change his mind, he lifted her onto the bed so she straddled him. With one hand she pushed him onto his back. Her dress rode up her thighs, giving him a glimpse of the blue lace panties. He slid his hands over her curvy butt and drew her to him so his cock was between her legs, pressing against her clit and the lips of her chatte. It didn’t matter what 16
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language he spoke, pussy was pussy, and women could be read. He knew how to please them. He’d become very good at watching his lovers response. He’d had to—it was that or not bother having sex. He wasn’t going to restrict what enjoyment he got out of life any further. Watching his lover’s reactions was the closest he got to having sensation, but it was never enough and always a bitter reminder. She moaned and then bit her lush lip with the tips of her fangs. Her hands covered his as if she didn’t want him to stop—as long as he didn’t look down to where their bodies touched he could go all night. He glanced at his hand to see if the blood had stopped flowing—he had to be careful of injuries he couldn’t feel. It had. Then he looked back at Maria’s face. She wasn’t like other Vampires. He hadn’t even recognized she was Vamp until he’d gotten close. Then there was her reaction to his blood, almost as if she wasn’t used to tasting blood. She ground her hips against him, her body quivering in his hands. Etienne shrugged off the questions trying to climb out of his subconscious. He was getting ridden, getting the need for sex out of his blood and getting on with his life and the tour. He didn’t have time to solve someone else’s issues. His fingers traced over her stomach to the top of the lace panties, then slipped beneath the fabric to tease her further, stroking the dark curls of her mound, dipping between her slick folds and into her pussy. Her cream coated his fingers as he smoothed it over her sensitive clit in small circles designed to torment instead of offer release. She rocked her hips against his touch, seeking more. He needed more. He wanted to see the evidence of her desire, not just smell it on the air. He gave the panties a test tug. She gasped and he ripped, the lace tearing in his hands as if it were made of gossamer. Then he tossed them on the floor. “You owe me. They were new.” Even as she spoke, she moved against his cock, sliding skin over skin so his shaft was slicked with her cream.
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“Add it to my bill.” His voice deepened with a need he couldn’t feel. He pushed open the front of her dress, wanting to see all of her. Before he could ruin that as well, she undid the tie at the side. The crossover dress opened up to reveal a matching bra. It would’ve been a very pretty set on a very pretty body. Petite and lithe, she would’ve dazzled the French court in his day. He palmed her breasts, rolling her hard nipples between his fingers. He’d learned how much pressure, remembered what the tight bud of a nipple felt like. Remembered licking and biting, his fangs scraping skin as his lover writhed in ecstasy. But not today. Today, like so many others, was just about removing the urge. There was no point on going deeper and wanting what he couldn’t have. He tugged at the front of the bra. “It’s half ruined…” She met his questioning gaze with a nod. “Do it.” Lace tore. He traced his fingers over the newly exposed skin, his gaze tracking the movement as he added to his memories. The trouble with the new memories was they were lacking. Like films without sound, or music not in stereo. He knew a sense was missing. That he couldn’t feel the silkiness of her skin or her channel tightening around his fingers as he teased her with sure caresses, all he could do was watch. And it wasn’t enough. It was why he skipped sex until his body wouldn’t let him go without anymore. He’d had a few lovers who thought him watching as weird. Most people didn’t know he had no sense of touch. That was the way he liked it. He didn’t want their pity. Maria had gotten him on a bad day. Not that she seemed to mind. She seemed to like it, her legs parting a little to give him a better view of her pussy as she worked with him. Two of his fingers slid into her core, slick with her own juices. She met each thrust as if she were riding his cock and intent on own pleasure. He could give her that; he wanted to see her come before he fucked her. He brushed his thumb over her clit, knowing the reaction his touch would elicit.
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Her mouth opened as she came with a gasp as if she hadn’t expected it. Before she could finish, he lifted her onto his shaft and thrust up, filling her core. She shuddered again, her eyelids flickering down. The memory of being encased in a slick, tight pussy was enough to make him groan, but not enough to make him come. He’d had to relearn how to gain satisfaction, something most men took for granted. Etienne gripped her hips and glanced down to where their bodies joined. Her dark curls revealed the delicate folds of her pussy as his cock disappeared into her stretched, rosy flesh and reappeared glistening. Her mews of desire echoed in his ears, hollow when he couldn’t respond. He kept the pace slow, drawing out his pleasure, watching while she panted, working over his cock in smooth easy strokes, taking his shaft fully. He drew in a breath, his teeth locked together, willing some kind of sensation to travel from his cock to his brain, a hint that he would once again feel the tightening of his balls as he came. Her fingers slid down to her clit, her long nails on her own skin, teasing the hard pearl of flesh. His eyes widened. Maria watched him from beneath her lashes with a small smile curving her lips as if she knew exactly what she was doing. Seeing her hands seeking her own pleasure was all he needed. A growl lodged in the back of his throat as his heart raced, then seemed to pause for a moment while he remembered the feeling of release. That was all he got. A two-hundred-year-old memory of what it felt like to come. Sex always reminded him of what he didn’t have, more than anything else, and he hated it. What was the point of surviving when life was an imitation of what it had once been? He should’ve gone with the piercing. Maria quivered and gasped, one hand gripping his on her hip, the other touching her own slick flesh. He tore his arm free of her grasp in frustration, tearing open his skin on her nails in the process.
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She caught his wrist and brought it to her mouth. Her tongue flicked over the fresh blood-speckled scratches. Then her teeth pressed against him. He wanted to be bitten, to feel a lover’s teeth sink into his flesh again, but it was a useless wish, one that hadn’t been answered in too many decades. “Do it,” he whispered, hoping maybe this time he’d feel something—anything. She glanced up and the daze of lust left her brown eyes was replaced by horror. She swiped a hand across her mouth and slid off him, drawing her dress about her. “Get out.” Her words were less of an order and more of a plea. He sat up, confusion slowing his reaction. What the hell was going on? He gave his arm a quick glance and wiped his it on his shirt—the scratches were a minor injury— but her gaze followed the movement as if a drop of blood could mesmerize her. Her lips parted as if she was still hungry for a taste. “I thought you wanted a bite.” “No. Get out. Get out now.” She backed away, her brown eyes lightening as the need for blood rose unchecked. Was she starving herself of blood? Did he not notice she was Vampire because she was so low on etheric she was just getting by? Who did that willingly? “Okay.” He held up his hands and hoped he looked unthreatening while gathering up his jeans. Something fell on the floor. He broke eye contact to see what it was. A nail. Or rather a false nail. He picked it up along with his shoes and circled toward the door. Her eyes were totally white now. Any other time he’d have been right there, biting, tasting, fucking. It was what Vampires did. Maria was different. She’d stabbed, she’d scratched, but she wouldn’t bite. He covered the few steps between them, pulled her into his arms and kissed her carelessly. Her teeth cut his lip and his cut hers. She tasted sweet, like sun-ripened oranges. The few drops he’d stolen weren’t enough. He should’ve had his fangs buried
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in her skin as she rode his cock. He could taste even though he couldn’t feel the associated hunger. She snarled and pushed him back. “I’ll send you a check for the underwear,” he said with a grin. “We should do this again.” And he meant it. He’d had more fun than he’d had in a while and he wanted to know why a Vamp wouldn’t bite. Had he finally met someone just as fucked up as him? That didn’t seem possible. Her lips pulled back to reveal a mouth full of sharp pointed teeth. Not just fangs for nipping and tasting, but the full set of tear-your-throat-out teeth. He was sure he almost felt a sickening lurch of fear. And he liked it. He gave her a courtly bow, never taking his eyes off her, and left the intriguing Lady Maria to battle her hunger for his blood. In the front room of the shop he pulled on his jeans and shoved on his shoes. Then he left, her false nail safe in his pocket and a reason to come back later. A few yards down the street he stopped. Zut alors. He turned on the spot and glanced at the shop. He couldn’t go straight back when she’d kicked him out. His hand touched his chest, but he hadn’t gotten what he’d gone in for. He was still missing the rung in his ladder and he was performing tonight. He hated being on stage with mismatched ladders. While there were plenty of other places he could go—hell, he could do it himself—he’d much rather go back and see the strange Lady Maria. A bitter smile curled his lips. Who was he to call her strange? He hadn’t felt a thing since surviving the Revolution with his head still attached to his neck.
Maria pulled her dress around her, fighting the chill that spread from the center of her being. Her head reeled from the hangover of sex and blood. What had she done? A
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Vampire. A client. She’d never done a client. At least not at work. Now her refuge was broken. Forever. Every time she stepped in here she would think of Etienne. The Vampire who had crawled under her defenses with an arrogant grin. Unlike him, she didn’t have the luxury of not feeling, no matter how hard she tried. His blood still warmed her tongue like the finest liquor. Her core ached. Because he was Vampire, she’d let herself go, revealing her fangs and her true nature. She’d almost bitten him…and he’d wanted her to. If she had, would she have been able to stop? Or would she have bled him dry like she had the only other time she’d given in and bitten? Her hands were shaking. One false nail was missing, exposing the shattered nail beneath. Damn it. Without her armor she was exposed. But she was alone, the shop was empty and no one needed to know what had happened. She took a breath and tried to settle herself. Her careful rules had fallen apart with the first challenge. The first pretty Vampire to rip her knickers. She gasped at the memory of his hands on her skin, his blood on her tongue. It could have been worse, so much worse. She should be grateful. Grateful that she hadn’t bitten him and exposed her blackened heart. Etienne was precisely why she avoided her kind. She couldn’t be trusted around other Vampires. Around them her resistance melted and she wanted to be like them. But she wasn’t. She fisted her hands and covered her eyes. Great gulps of air tore her lungs, but she wouldn’t cry. She hadn’t cried after killing her mother. And she wouldn’t cry now after not killing. But her mother’s pleading filled her ears. Her white starving eyes were burned into Maria’s memory. Surrounded by the screams of the other children being fed to their starving parents by their captors, her mother had torn her own wrist open, urging her daughter to feed. Even though Maria hadn’t been old enough for blood, her mother had insisted. Better the daughter survive. Survive was what she’d done. Feeding. Killing. Escaping. Forgetting was harder.
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Her bones had mended, the scars had faded. But she remembered every minute from the time the human soldiers arrived in their village. Every hour she had been held captive in their search for Vampire immortality. Every face of the ones who didn’t survive. Maria forced out a slow sigh. Today she had won. One day it would win and shred her sanity and self-control. And she would feed and kill and her own kind would hunt her down and kill her. Until then, she would live as best she could. Her teeth became human again as fear eased its claws out of her body. She pulled off the remains of her bra, gathered up her knickers and placed them in the bin. Each movement was calm as she reassembled control. She picked her hair clip up off the floor and with an easy twist she redid her hair. Then she took a sip of water, swishing it around her mouth. Thin and flavorless, it did nothing to diminish the taste of Etienne’s blood or the craving that filled her body to burn in his touch and drown in his kiss. For being Vampire. For reminding her she was Vampire. For the way she still wanted him even though he’d shattered her will. She hated Etienne.
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Chapter Two Maria turned the key in the lock of the shop with a relieved sigh. She’d made it through the rest of the day with no underwear and done two labrets and a nipple piercing. Not all bad, except she hadn’t been able to remove Etienne from her mind or the memory of his touch from her body. Her tongue flicked over her lip, but the cut he’d made with his teeth was already healed. He’d gotten under her skin fast and it was unnerving. The thought of him made her fangs ache. She’d wanted to bite him as she’d come just to see what it would feel like. There really was something wrong with her and it wasn’t getting any better. But as long as she hid it, no one would know. She rolled her shoulders, took a breath and for a second thought she caught his heady scent. Great. Now she was imagining him. She turned around and began the walk to the car park. A now familiar man crossed the road. Her stomach rolled. She wasn’t imagining. He’d come back. Didn’t he realize how dangerous she was? Etienne fell into step beside her. Maria stopped walking. “If you’re looking for another quickie, the brothel is two blocks away.” A human hooker would be much cheaper—they wouldn’t take his life. “You left this behind.” He handed her a pale pink false nail. Red flowers decorated the top. Unfortunately it matched the other nine nails so she couldn’t deny it was hers. “You shouldn’t have bothered.” Really, you shouldn’t have. “Thank you would suffice.” He held her hand, examining the fractured remains of her real nail. “Are they all the same as this?”
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She snatched her hand back, her fingers curling to hide the truth. “Does it matter?” “To me? No…unless you keep leaving your nails in my skin.” He gave her a smile that would seduce the devil into playing his bedroom games. Her insides quivered as if he could make her come with a glance and a quirk of his lips. She pressed her thighs together, aware she had nothing on under her dress…and very aware he also knew she had nothing on under the dress. The Vampire inside her struggled to the surface, her fangs sharpening even as she fought to keep them back. The bitch had been let out, been given blood and sex. What more did she want? Everything. “I wasn’t planning on seeing you again.” Maria forced the words out. She wanted to drag him back into the shop and bite that lovely place on his neck where his pulse vibrated. Etienne raised his black eyebrows. “I didn’t realize I’d offended you.” Not offended her. He’d done worse. He’d broken down her defenses until all she wanted to do was revel in lust and let her fangs hang out. Oh the places she could bite him and he wouldn’t feel a thing. She would never be able to hurt him. She stopped the blood-red thoughts before they took over. She couldn’t hurt him, but she would kill him. And he wouldn’t feel a thing. Hell, he’d probably get off on it. “It’s me. Not you.” Maria walked away and hoped he’d take the hint. So far he was being very dense. “I know.” Rude and dense. He wasn’t supposed to agree with her. She turned. “Excuse me?” “All that anger, directed at yourself. It’s a terrible burden.” His voice became soft, chantlike. For half a second she wanted to confide every secret she held. Maria listened to her heartbeat and not the tempting lure of his. He brought out the worst in her, as if her body recognized he was Vampire and wanted to stop playing at being human.
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“Like you’d know.” She crossed her arms, too aware that she was virtually naked except for the thin fabric of her dress, as her nipples peaked. “I spent a long time being angry that I couldn’t feel and it got me nowhere.” His black eyes lingered on her face. He didn’t bother hiding the heat in his gaze. If he was trying to see her again, he was doing a really bad job of asking her out. And she knew she wouldn’t be able to say no. She had to push him away and pretend she’d never met him. “Either you are recruiting for some weird Vampire cult or you really suck at talking to women.” He glanced at the pavement, then back up at her. “The latter. It’s been a long time since I tried holding a conversation after…” He tipped his head as if she should understand. She did, because she knew too well how awkward things could be after a casual hookup that had existed to only to take the sharp edge off the need for sex. “You prefer one-nighters.” So why was he bothering her? He hadn’t really come back to return her nail. Etienne shook his head. “My condition complicates things.” “I would’ve thought that would be a bonus.” “It’s only physical sensations I have lost. Hot, cold, touch.” His fingers traced her arm, burning a path over her skin. “Tell me what it feels like to be hungry, to cut yourself, to come. Those simple things you take for granted I can only remember.” “Why?” “I became immune to survive.” A simple answer that hid a more complicated truth. Maria didn’t push. If she didn’t want to share her secrets, why expect him to share his? “And now?” “Now I can’t relearn. I am stuck in a body I can’t feel.”
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Her already weakened defenses melted a little more. He was in a prison of his own making with no chance of escape or parole. Whatever had happened to him was permanent. “What do you want from me?” She couldn’t help him. She couldn’t even help herself. “I need a rung in my ladder replaced.” Maria pointed back at the shop door half a block away. “I’m closed.” And inviting him back into her shop was a mistake. Already her blood was humming with anticipation, her skin aching for his touch, her pussy ready for him. She shivered as an imagined breeze slid under her dress and wrapped around her thighs like the caress of a lover. “Please, Maria, I have to play tonight. They need to match.” What did he have to play that his piercings needed to match? She shook her head to remove the images of his half-naked body on the bed and between her legs. “I don’t care.” “I only came in for the rung this morning, but you looked as if you needed some excitement.” He shrugged. “Maybe I was looking for some excitement.” He pulled a small, slightly crushed, ribboned package out of his jacket pocket. “I’m sorry.” Maria was silent. She couldn’t find a harsh word to say. No one had ever apologized after she’d deliberately made them bleed and then come back for more. She didn’t have to force the smile that formed, instead she took the offered item, knowing what it would be. Etienne had gone to the effort of purchasing new underwear instead of just giving her a check. “Come on, I’ll open up.” She held up a finger. For her benefit or his? “One. Rung. Only.” His shoulders eased as if he’d been expecting her to reject him. “I’ll be gone in five minutes.” He placed his hand over his heart. “I swear.”
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Great. Two minutes to pierce and three minutes for…? They walked back in silence. He shortened his stride to fall in with her. His body only inches from hers, his heat reaching for her, his scent wrapping around her and lulling her into a false hope that she could be Vampire and nothing bad would happen. Maybe it wouldn’t—as long as they didn’t have sex. Sex led to bloodlust and bloodlust led to death. How did he control his urges? Or was he okay because he didn’t feel hunger? She glanced at him again. “If you really can’t feel, how do you live?” He lifted his sleeve to reveal a double-faced fancy watch on a wide leather cuff. “By the clock.” “Is that living?” She tried to imagine what it would be like to never feel the need to eat, to never have the sharp, crawling hunger for blood shredding her veins even though she tried to sate it with mice. It would be so nice to not have such a dark craving. “I’m alive and I have hope…most of the time. The other option is rather final.” He turned and faced her. “Ever heard the saying the best revenge is to live well? Well, I outlived them all.” He stroked her fingers. “I’m guessing you did too.” Her back stiffened, but he didn’t press. He just looked at her as if he could work out what her problem was if he stared deep enough into her eyes. She blinked and broke the spell before the truth slid out of her mouth. If he knew what she’d done to survive, he’d be singing a different tune. Maria opened the shop door and locked it after them, not wanting any more unwelcome customers. She placed the present on the front counter, intending on opening it later when she was alone. “It’s polite to unwrap a gift.” “Replacement,” she corrected. They weren’t exchanging gifts and being friends.
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Mentally she crossed her fingers and hoped it was something horrible and in the wrong size. She pulled the hot-pink ribbon and the silver wrapping fell open. Cornflower-blue lace. A similar color to the set he’d ruined. Okay, he’d tried. She checked the size, hoping to be disappointed. She was. He’d got it right. Damn. She didn’t have much up top, but that he’d guessed A-cup was insulting. One quickie in the shop and he thought he had her all figured out. Tragically he knew her better than some of her friends already. She sighed. Etienne was digging into her skin like a persistent splinter, but there was no needle big enough to dig him out. “Suitable?” “Perfect, thank you,” slipped through her teeth. From another man it would have been perfect. From Etienne it was an invitation to sin again. “Go through. I’ll be there in a sec.” Maria pulled the tag off the G-string. She wasn’t going in without protection. The corner of his mouth lifted as if he was thinking of ripping them off her. Then he turned and went into the piercing room. She watched him, need coiling in her belly like a snake ready to strike when she least expected. Etienne was a temptation she couldn’t risk tasting. He sat on the plastic-covered bed with his shirt off. Red nail marks were still visible on his arms, but they were healing so fast that by tonight they’d be gone. Not that he seemed to notice or care. Her gaze followed the curve of muscle into his jeans. At least he had his pants on this time. But he was obviously thinking about the last time he’d been here, his shaft pressing hard against the button fly just like then. Before she was tempted to flick open buttons and grasp his cock, she forced her gaze to his piercings. From the heavy-gauge rings in his nipples to his collarbone, he had six bars, five on his left side. She wanted to run her fingers over the flesh and metal bumps and then down over his abs and lower. Her fingers curled, her nails brushing her palms. She hated to admit it, but he was right. The ladders needed to match if he was going to be shirtless.
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Questions burned on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them down along with the desire rising at the sight of him half-dressed again—or half-undressed, depending on which way she looked at it. Her cheeks tightened, but she hid the forming grin by turning away. She didn’t want to know what he did. She didn’t want to know anything about him that would make her like him. “Fourteen, stainless steel?” “Yes.” Carefully she cleaned and marked the position of the missing rung as he watched. His dark eyes revealed nothing. The secrets hidden in their inky depths waited to be written. The pads of her fingers grazed his skin in a touch he couldn’t feel but that reverberated in her blood and pulsed in her pussy. She stepped back before the temptation to dig her nails in and taste his blood overcame her common sense. She would not fall for him again. Maria held up the mirror for his approval. He nodded. And she fell into the routine of piercing. It calmed her mind but not her body. She was aware of every breath he took, of the way he watched her as if he could feel hunger and he wanted a taste of her, the sharp points of his fangs just visible. The memory of his fangs as he’d kissed her made her stomach flip in excitement, but she kept her mouth closed to keep the sigh from escaping. She’d never been bitten, had never wanted to be bitten, but the sight of his fangs was enough to make her wonder if she was missing out by pretending to be human and ignoring her Vampire instincts. His eyes tracked the needle as she pushed it through his skin. A ruby drop of blood formed, glistening in the light. The unspoken offer of a tiny taste. Her fangs lengthened in response. She screwed the ball onto the bar and tried to ignore the drop of blood hanging suspended from the metal, ready to fall wasted to the floor. Her hand moved to catch the drop. It wasn’t as if she was biting him. 30
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She caught the blood on her finger and brought it to her mouth. Once Etienne was gone from her shop, and life, she could go back to being human, but with him she could be Vampire. His blood exploded on her tongue in a rush of hot lust, shorting her senses for a second, and in that second, Etienne moved. His mouth closed over hers in a gentle kiss that threatened to bring the last of her defenses down. She moaned against him as her hands tracked up his back, her nails digging into his shoulders. His hand brushed her hip as he pulled her closer so his hard shaft pressed against her belly in promise. Her pussy dampened as the heat in her blood sank lower, the lace of the new G-string rubbing her skin when all she wanted was the hard satin of his cock between her legs. He may not be able to feel, but he knew exactly what to do to make her crave more. She ran her hand along his jaw and let her fingers explore the piercings in his ear. The feel of metal and skin edged her higher. His tongue glided over her lip and dipped into her mouth. Her fangs pressed against his lip, tempting her to cross the boundaries she’d set so long ago. It would be so easy to break the skin with the razor-sharp points of her teeth. She tore herself away, her breathing rough. No biting. “Why did you come back here? You could have gone anywhere.” “I wanted to see you.” “You can’t see me again. You make me want to do things I shouldn’t.” “You’re Vampire. I gave you permission to taste me.” Confusion lined his forehead. “You don’t understand.” “Make me.” Maria shook her head. If he stayed, she might and then it would be over—she’d kill him. She knew she would. And if she did, she’d be better off turning herself in to Fendrake and accepting the punishment because she wouldn’t be able to live with another death on her conscience.
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She risked a glance at him and her resolve weakened. She didn’t hate him, she wanted him. Needed him yet couldn’t have him. “Thank you for the taste. It’s more than I deserved.” He cupped her chin and tilted her head so their gazes met. “How much pleasure do you get from piercing?” “Enough. How much do you get from being pierced?” “Depends on the day and who is on the other end of the needle.” He gave her one of his most dangerous smiles. “You remind me of why I want to be able to feel. I want to hate you for that.” “The feeling is mutual.” So why couldn’t they just walk away and stop making each other want the impossible? “You can’t hate if you don’t love.” “This is lust.” “I’m partial to lust.” He kissed the corner of her mouth, then whispered in her ear. “You pierce because you long to bite.” He drew back, leaving her speechless, and pulled a ticket from his back pocket. “Come tonight and I’ll let you bite me.” Her gaze darted from the fancy gold-edged ticket to see Lucinda’s Lover at Baroque ‘n’ Dreams, then back to Etienne. He was serious. Her fangs tingled at the thought. He was offering himself to her, but he didn’t know what he was asking. “You don’t want that.” “I know what I want. Do you?” He put the ticket on the bed and pulled on his tshirt and jacket. “It’s your choice.” “Why would I go and see Lucinda’s Lover with you?” She didn’t own any of their CDs. Lucinda’s Lover wasn’t her taste in music. It was too Vampire. “You won’t be going with me. You’ll be coming to see me.” Maria gasped. “You’re Thanatos.”
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That was how she knew him. His picture had been in the gossip magazine under a heading about sex and sellout concerts. Without the heavy eyeliner and leather pants he looked different, less punk-rock god and more human. He gave her a half bow. “I am.”
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Chapter Three Etienne’s watch beeped, reminding him it was time to take care of the body he couldn’t feel. This meant checking for random injuries he could’ve acquired—while most healed fast, there had been too many times he’d needed stitches, and he’d also broken bones without realizing—going to the bathroom and eating and drinking. And every Sunday he had a nip of blood to keep the need for etheric at bay. It was a routine that had been perfected over years and it had gotten him to a place where he could cope with the loss of sensation. Coping wasn’t the same as living and despite what he’d told Maria, some days he wasn’t sure he was living or just going through the motions. Meeting her had made the dissatisfaction with his condition worse. Like a rat gnawing on the flesh he couldn’t feel, but that he knew was slowly destroying him one mouthful at a time. In the bathroom mirror, he checked out Maria’s handiwork. The new piercing matched perfectly with the others, the redness had faded already. The memory of her collecting the drop of blood and putting it in her mouth lingered. It was an image he wouldn’t forget quickly. A few more weeks and another bar would grow out—that was the trouble with surface piercings. But if he was lucky, he’d be back in town and she could stab him again. If he was really lucky she’d run those long nails of hers over his skin while they were both naked and screaming. The only thought that made continuing worthwhile, instead of downing a couple of pints of blood and having a short walk in sunlight, was that one day he would be able to feel a lover’s touch. The last hands he remembered on his body were the ones breaking his bones. His fingers curled. Not that anyone would know now how badly his hands had been damaged. In two hours he’d be on stage, his fingers dancing over the strings of a viola.
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Music he felt. It gave him peace when meditation failed and it let him express what he should have been feeling without hurting himself. Tonight, though, he knew his heart wouldn’t be in the songs. He would be waiting to see if Maria came to watch him play. In his ears, his pulse sped up in anticipation as he threw his stage clothes and the makeup into a bag. The crowd didn’t want to see him, they were expecting Lucinda’s Lover, where classical and grunge fused with a squeal of electric strings, leather and skin. And if she didn’t come, would he go back to her shop or let it be? He knew the answer. In another day he’d be in another city, doing another show, and he’d never been good at relationships—even when he could feel. His last lover, the deceitful Henrietta, had almost succeeded in having him killed. Fortunately for him, a bunch of religious zealots had gotten to him first. Not even a Vampire could survive having his head cut off. He’d lost many friends, human and Vampire, to the blade, and he’d failed to replace them. It was easier to be alone.
Baroque ‘n’ Dreams was a lavish club, even by Vampire standards. Marble floors and crimson velvet and gold. Gems and designer labels decorated the Vampires and this was just the entrance. It was exactly the kind of place Maria avoided. For a moment she considered turning and running. Her black halter-neck evening dress seemed too casual. They would know she didn’t belong here, that she wasn’t right. She’d only come because Etienne had promised a bite—no, that wasn’t entirely true. She’d come to be Vampire for one night, to see what she was missing out on. She didn’t have to meet up with him or take him up on his very dangerous offer. The man on the door took a look at her ticket, then inhaled as if sniffing her perfume. Maria held her breath. The Were-something was checking to make sure only 35
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Vampires got in tonight. Why couldn’t Etienne have given her a ticket to a general show, not a members-only show? The Were nodded. She was through. Her lungs deflated with relief. She’d passed the first hurdle; all she had to do now was survive being in a room full of Vampires. In the club, Vampires laughed and jostled around her. Revelry tainted the air, but she was looking for white eyes and screams. She’d never seen so many Vampires in one place. They must have traveled into the city to come to the show. Her heart beat a little faster, but she couldn’t tell if it was excitement or fear or both. A woman squealed. Maria turned, her eyes wide, expecting blood, but saw only a group of friends greeting each other like over enthusiastic puppies. She shouldn’t have come. Tonight would be a trip into a freakish world she didn’t want to join, two hours of hell before she could leave and go back to her carefully constructed life. “Drink?” Maria jumped as the costumed and masked bartender gave her a pointy smile. The glasses were poured and ready, balancing on his tray. She smiled back with her teeth still human in appearance, her gaze scanning the tray. “White wine, thank you.” “Spiked?” He held up a delicate glass vial filled with garnet-colored blood. She was willing to bet it was human blood. There would be no substituting with mice and other animals in a place like this. “No.” She took the glass before she could change her mind. Being here was too risky, what if she couldn’t control herself? Despite tasting Etienne only hours ago, it wasn’t enough. He’d woken a craving she’d thought well buried. Not everyone shared her qualms about blood drinking. Glasses shimmered in every shade of red, like gems strewn throughout the room. The scent carried on the air like the delicate fragrance of a summer storm, making her lightheaded.
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She couldn’t do it. Pretending to be human was easier than trying to be Vampire. Maria turned around, intending to leave, but the tide of bodies wouldn’t let her escape. They swept her farther into the club, deeper into the congregation of Vampires. The noise and scent of blood crashed over her in a pulsing wave. She panicked, fear making her cold as her heart pounded as if she’d been running. Then she saw stairs. Instead of fighting the eddy of bodies, she let them take her deeper and she slid toward the stairs and then up to the almost empty balcony lounge. Above the crowd she took a couple of slow deep breaths. She didn’t have to be part of it, to watch it. She could observe how the Vampires behaved without becoming one of them. She leaned over the railing, her nails—now fixed and painted with silver lightning on black—clicking on the metal. Up here was deemed too far away for the faithful. Lucinda’s Lover were more popular than she’d realized. There were more Vampires in her city than she’d realized. By pretending to be human, she was missing out, but she didn’t know how to be Vampire, not one who would be allowed to live. The person who should’ve taught her she’d been forced to kill. Since then she’d been hiding, even from herself. Someone started yelling and soon the whole club echoed with the war cry, as Vampires called out their favorite band member’s name. Phoenix. Sirius. Absinthe. Thanatos. The chanting was joined by stamping, like a pagan ceremony to call down the Gods. The club shook, the vibrations rattling her ribs. The anticipation demanded to be fed. Maria shuddered despite the warmth. “Thanatos.” The name formed on her lips. Lights flared. Blinded, her eyes took precious second to adjust. “Welcome to the house of Baroque ‘n’ Dreams.” The voice resonated around the club. There was a collective intake of air as the supplicants’ prayers were answered. When her eyes adjusted, the green-eyed front man, Absinthe, stood bathed in the only light. 37
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Absinthe threw his hands up dramatically. “May you find a new dream.” The other three members of Lucinda’s Lover appeared out of the dark. There he was, the black eyeliner around his already dark eyes, metal glinting in the light and black leather pants hanging low on his hips. They were all he was wearing except a smile, as if death had come to party. The electric viola in his hands screamed to life. A classical tune they’d warped and used to claim the number one place on the charts for too long. But Lucinda’s Lover had a built-in fan base. Nonhumans supported anything that was theirs. That humans also bought their CDs was an added bonus. The Vampires below danced as if their lives depended on it. A rave to perpetual youth and unrestrained lust. Teeth on skin and no one cared. Outcast by her own decision, Maria sipped her drink, willing herself to be immune, yet wanting to be part of the crowd to see what it would be like. The music tugged on her soul, urging her to join the throng of bodies. The rhythm flowed through her veins and broke down her resistance. And she gave in. Her incisors lengthened, for every denial she created there were a hundred truths. She was Vampire. Her body moved without thought, absorbing the music that was her birthright. She watched Etienne—Thanatos now. The way he played, the way he moved, he was one with the music. As if he could feel. The notes washed over his skin, which glistened in the lights. Maria’s tongue swept over her fangs. Her wine was not what she wanted. She wanted Etienne, but he was lost in the performance and as out of reach as the moon.
They screamed his stage name, hands stretched forward but never reaching him. Beyond the lights he saw very little. Was Maria out there watching? His lips curved. What would she make of this place, of the music, of him? This wasn’t him, not really, this was a role, a game he played because it amused him. Through the crowd he could live vicariously. Lust and sex hung in the air as if he was in a pit of emotion. Their swelling joy wrapped around him, but with a change in 38
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tune he could bring them crashing down. His bare foot tapped on the stage, in a pause he pointed his bow at the crowd. No doubt a dozen women would think it was at them. A couple of measures and he was playing again. The music tumbled in his blood and echoed in his bones. For these few hours he was well and loved and could forget who he really was. He glanced at the Vampires everyone knew as Phoenix, then to Sirius and Absinthe. They didn’t exist beyond the stage names. This way it was easier to disappear. After five years they were already discussing exit strategies. Media and technology were making it harder for Vampires to disappear. He was getting tired of only existing under a stage light. They switched to acoustic instruments. A rough number that ended with a duel between Sirius and Absinthe that wasn’t entirely staged. Owen and William had a history that went back before he was born and was colored by love and betrayal. It wasn’t one of his favorite pieces, but it went off in a club. Tonight it would give him a break and chance to look past the lights and into the crowd. The music built. William and Owen circled, violins drawn and ready for action. The lights focused only on them and Etienne took a drink of water and searched the crowd, half hoping he’d see her, half hoping he wouldn’t. What would it be like to have her fangs in his neck while he fucked her? How dangerous could she be? Any bite could be fatal if done wrong, but where was the fun in safe? The two Vampires clashed and struck, and as they did the crowd pressed closer as if expecting blood. It had happened before. He didn’t need to watch—the crowd would decide who won the feud between first and second violin. Would it be skill or showmanship tonight? He lifted his gaze to the balcony. She wouldn’t be in the crush, she wouldn’t admit she was Vamp. Any other day of the week and neither would anyone here. He’d been alive for just over three hundred years and Vamps and other nonhumans still couldn’t walk freely and without fear.
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But Maria feared herself. Then he saw her at the edge of the balcony, moving with the music, her fangs down, her eyes pale as she watched William and Owen play up to the crowd. This was not the Maria he knew. This was a woman discovering being Vampire wasn’t all bad and he could show her how good it could be. Owen defeated William. The crowd roared and all the lights went out for a heartbeat. He lifted his viola, ready to play again. As the lights came on, her gaze landed on him. A jolt of recognition kicked his heart over as if he’d stuck his hand in a power outlet and he almost missed the start of the song.
Etienne looked up, straight at her. Maria gasped and smiled, surprised he’d noticed her when everyone else was calling out. He raised an eyebrow and then rolled his hips. Cries of appreciation rose from the floor, but he was daring Maria to respond with a tilt of his head and a flicker of tongue over his lip. Her nipples hardened, pushing against the delicate silk of her dress. She was too hot and in too many clothes. A frisson of heat ran under her skin. Something in the way he moved had changed, as if he was performing solely for her. Before Maria could reconsider she shimmied out of her G-string, not caring if anyone saw, only that Thanatos watched. His eyes never left her. In one move she flicked the blue lace underwear he’d bought her onto the stage. They weren’t the first pair to land at his feet. But they were the only pair he noticed. In a pause in the music he flicked them up with his bow and tucked them into the side of his black leather pants with a flourish. Her blood heated at the public acknowledgement that he’d chosen her. What did she think would happen? He’d ignore them? Ignore her? Heads turned trying to see where the G-string had originated from, women wanting to know who had caught Thanatos’ eye where they had failed. Her cheeks colored to match the crimson velvet drapes. She hid in her glass, knowing she’d left her
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mark. Every time he looked up, his eyes held a heat that threatened to incinerate every soul between the two of them and which burned straight to her heart. No matter what she did, she would never be the same after knowing Etienne. He’d opened her eyes to a world she’d tried to hide from and now couldn’t forget. Her fangs were visible to everyone, admitting she was Vampire, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to be the same as every other Vampire in the club—able to enjoy what she was instead of fearing what she might do. Etienne was her chance, if she was willing to take it and risk getting her heart bruised. She glanced at him again. Raw sex and power. He was out of her league. What they had was short term and then he would move on, and where would that leave her? Right now she didn’t care. She could work that out later. Now she wanted everything he was offering. One by one Lucinda’s Lover faded into the dark until only Absinthe remained. His last mournful note hung in the air as all the lights went out. Before the main lights had even come on, the calls for encore began, but the stage remained empty as if Lucinda’s Lover had never existed. Maria joined the chant, hoping for one more glimpse of Etienne. But rock gods don’t answer to the whims of man or woman. The crowd was left satisfied but aching for one more shining moment. Their myth remained intact, a mysterious quartet that didn’t exist beyond the stage name. No reporter had ever discovered the truth about who they were. But she knew. Etienne had trusted her with one of his secrets. She glanced at the black door to the side of the stage. A large bouncer stood in front of the No Entry sign. That was where she had to go if she was going to take Etienne up on his offer. Now was the moment of decision. Either she left and pretended as if nothing had changed or she went after him knowing everything would change. Damn him for upsetting her perfectly orchestrated balance. If he’d never come into her shop, she would have been happy fighting herself for another fifty years. Her tongue touched her fang. And missing out. She wanted his hands on her, skin to skin. 41
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With Etienne it wasn’t just sex, it was a drug she couldn’t get enough of, because for the first time she was able to taste her lover’s blood. She finished her second glass of wine for the night but didn’t feel the heat as the alcohol hit her stomach and spread. She was already thinking of Etienne. Women walked up to the door and were turned away. Maria frowned. How was she going to get past security? And how was she going to reclaim her G-string? A small smile formed. She’d answered her own question. If the guard was a Were like the one on the front door, he’d know which woman owned the underwear Thanatos had claimed.
She went down the stairs and from a safe distance she watched the door, the black paint trying to cover dents and scratches that looked like they’d been made by a wild animal. Probably the bouncer after he’d shifted forms in a fight. He leaned against the door, his glare an open challenge to all who would try to get through. Maria stood a little straighter, her muscles tense. Suddenly her plan was less than brilliant and more like lust-induced madness. She turned away, unable to go further. Etienne could stalk her at her shop tomorrow if he wanted to see her again. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he always acted like that on stage—a devilish sex god who promised everything and delivered nothing but a longing for the impossible. “Hi, I’m Thanatos’ panty girl,” a female voice purred. Her words carried over the noise of chatter and background music. Maria spun slowly, not believing her ears. A red-haired, double-D Vampire preened in front of the bouncer, tossing her hair and smiling. The hell she is. The bouncer sniffed and curled his mouth into a snarl that would have suited an enraged bear. “Sweetheart, you’d be number seventeen that’s tried that line.” Red-Hair considered arguing the point, but the burly bouncer growled until she backed away. His threat turned Maria’s bones to water, but Red-Hair brushing past in a 42
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flouncy fit strengthened her resolve. The other women had tried, but she would succeed. The bouncer was looking for something specific and she had it. Maria gritted her teeth and stalked up to the bouncer. She stood in front of him, waiting to be found worthy of entering backstage. The bouncer sniffed, then sniffed again as if to be sure. “You’re the G-string girl.” His gaze took a little too long to track over her body before he opened the door. Maria paused. If she went through, there would be sweet blood on her hands. Etienne knew the price of tempting her, but would her hands wash clean in the morning? Would he stop her if she lost control? “Lady, you going through? I can’t hold it open all night, there’s only four of them and a hundred of you.” Maria jerked her head up, her eyes wide. She’d come too far not to claim her prize. Etienne was hers. With a short exhale she lifted her chin and crossed the threshold. The door thudded closed behind her and the music became a dull throb. Up the corridor to her left there was an open door. She wiped her palms on her dress and walked toward the light, her heels clicking on the concrete. It was so quiet and cool backstage after the crush and noise of the show. But instead of relaxing, her nerves tightened. Her heart beat fast and unsteady, driven by a lust she couldn’t explain. She’d never wanted anyone the way she wanted Etienne. Previous human lovers had come and gone very quickly before they could realize what she was, and Etienne was her first Vampire. Being with him had released the Vampire in her and she was beginning to enjoy the freedom. She peeked into the room. Etienne sat on the sofa in jeans, his bare feet on the table. He glanced up before she could speak, his face washed clean of the dark eye makeup. “I wasn’t sure you’d show.” She hadn’t been either. “I was looking for lost property.” He opened his hands. “You found it. The question is, did you come for the underwear or me?” “The G. It’s part of a set.” 43
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He pulled them out of his jeans and tossed them to her. She caught them one handed. His scent clung to them after being next to his skin for half the show. How could she ever wear them without thinking of him? “Must mean a lot for you to reclaim them.” “They were a gift.” One she would never forget, no matter how long she lived. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I don’t usually throw my underwear at rock stars.” “Their loss.” He stood and shrugged into a white shirt. When he walked outside, he’d look like he’d attended the show, not performed in it. He left the shirt unbuttoned so the light made valleys and hills on his stomach muscles as he walked toward her as if he was a hunter. And she couldn’t run. Trapped by her own desire. She needed to run her hands over the uncharted land, trace the contours of his muscle and trail her nails along his skin. Her fingers curled, balling the G-string into her fist. The temptation to touch him was burning in every nerve. Once she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop. “I don’t date Vampires.” They stood in the doorway, their bodies almost touching. “I don’t date.” His hands moved but didn’t touch her. “So why are you here?” She’d asked herself that question and didn’t like the answer. He brought out the worst in her and she was enjoying it. “I want to fuck you again.” Rake her nails down his chest and lap up the damage. She wanted to make him feel every scratch. “Fuck me over. You like a man who can’t tell when he’s coming?” His fingers stroked her cheek, barely touching her skin. His thumb brushed her lip as if he could remember exactly where his teeth had cut her. Their bodies almost touched. They were so close only a slip of paper could pass between them. With every breath she had to resist the temptation to lean into him and feel his body hard against hers. He cupped the cheek and their lips shared the briefest of caresses, taunting the other with the possibilities.
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“I like you.” The admission slipped off her tongue too fast for her to take it back. He laughed. The sound was unholy, unnatural. Ice ran though her blood. He didn’t smile. “We’re a match made in hell.” “Been there, but I must’ve missed you.” Her voice was breathy with the need crawling through her blood. She wanted to taste him, feel the heat of his blood on her tongue. She wanted to feel his teeth on her skin. His cock driving into her core. He pushed her against the doorframe, his body connecting with hers. Her nipples peaked against his chest, and her pussy dampened. She bit back a moan of desire. “Will here do, Lady Maria?” he whispered against her mouth between kisses. Her breathing came in ragged pants and for a second she almost said yes. But she wanted more than a few minutes; she wanted all night. “I’m not a groupie. Don’t you have a hotel?” “I’m not sure they want blood on their sheets.”
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Chapter Four The hotel room door slammed closed. Etienne’s kiss crushed her lips as he pinned her against the wood and pushed her up the door. His thigh between her legs stopped her from sliding down. His hips pressed against her and the length of his erection ground into her belly. Using Etienne for leverage, she shoved herself higher until his cock, still trapped in his jeans, nestled in the junction of her thighs, rubbing her clit and teasing her pussy. “I spent half the show with your damp G-string tucked in my pants. The scent of you drove me crazy.” His mouth tracked down her throat, then back to her lips. His fingers laced with hers so all she could do was squirm against his body as he took control of every kiss and every touch. She surrendered control and bathed in the rising tide of desire that swept her higher with each breath. Her incisors lengthened and she didn’t fight it. She didn’t have to with Etienne. “Let me taste you.” He groaned and turned his head, exposing his neck as if it was the most natural request. The rest of her teeth lengthened and sharpened, ready for a feed. She looked away before his pulse entranced her and she couldn’t refuse. “I can’t bite.” “Yes, you can.” Long lashes concealed his thoughts. Had he seen her mouthful of pointed teeth? “No.” Maria yanked her hand free of his and sliced beneath his collarbone with her thumbnail. Blood welled. Her tongue traced over the gash. Lust urged her heart faster. She placed her mouth to his skin, seeking more. Hunger bubbled in her veins. The beat of 46
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his heart was an irresistible rhythm that drew her closer. His life flowed through every tiny blood vessel. Its call spiraled through her, making her body quiver. The rich taste sent a tremor through her muscles. The need for more uncoiled like a demonic serpent awakened after decades of slumber. She wanted him, all of him. His heart pounded, urging her to take more. Promising she could have everything. Her teeth grazed his flesh without breaking the skin. She wanted to savor the moment before giving in to the need to bite. “A taste, not a feed, there is a difference.” Etienne tugged her head away and recaptured her mouth. Her teeth clashed with his. She was so used to hiding them she didn’t know how to use them properly or kiss gently with them. If he noticed, he didn’t care. His hand snaked around the back of her neck. The clasp of her dress clicked and opened, then the fabric slithered down her body and pooled around her waist, baring her skin to his heated gaze. Her breast disappeared beneath his palm. She arched her back, pressing her aching nipple into his hand. The small circles he made offered no respite from the lust riding rough in her blood and pulsing between her thighs. Her pussy was already slick with need. The hungry ache was lodged in her belly as if it had been lifetimes without satisfaction, not mere hours. His mouth closed over her other nipple. The peak fitted between his fangs, his teeth pressing harmlessly against her skin. But the hint of his bite was enough to make her crave more. She tipped her head back, banging it on the door and cutting her own lip with her pointy teeth. Etienne lifted his head. His eyes were pale and his body firm against hers, but his tongue soothed the cut. “Very nice. Sweet like orange and jasmine.” His mouth kissed and nipped down her neck, and his tongue flicked over her pulse, sending a shiver of longing down her spine. His fangs touched her skin. She held her breath, expecting to feel his teeth in her flesh. Before he could bite she panicked, the old fear leaping to the surface and stealing the moment.
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She pushed against the door with her feet, partially breaking his grip. Etienne stumbled back, but he didn’t release her hand, he pulled her with him as his back hit the wall. Her dress floated to the ground, leaving her naked. His gaze took in every inch of her body and ended on her face. “I won’t bite unless you invite me.” Her tongue skimmed the cut. He’d tasted her without biting. So had she, yet her teeth ached to be used. An ache he couldn’t feel, but which was reflected in the lightening of his eyes. Black fading to gray. Left long enough they would fade to white, the same as any Vampire with a hunger for blood. Her eyes would be the same, pale and hungry. But this time she wasn’t afraid. Desire smothered all other emotions. She nodded and raised one eyebrow. “You’re overdressed.” Etienne grinned and tore open the buttons on his jeans. Maria watched unblinking as the rosy head of his cock broke free. Inch by inch the rest of the hardened flesh was revealed. Lust swelled in her belly. She ran her fingers up the length of his shaft unable to resist touching him. As he watched his cock jumped, hardening further in her hand. He responded like any man, as long as he could see what she was doing. Without warning he pulled her to him and lifted her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands cupped her butt and brought her close. Close enough his shaft pressed against her pussy, teasing. His cock was smooth and hot against her slick skin. She rolled her hips against his shaft and a shiver of desire started in her center and spread. But she couldn’t move enough to take him into her core and ride him to climax. And he watched as if enjoying her frustration as much as he enjoyed watching her hand stroke his cock. Her nails pressed into his skin, but he didn’t flinch, even as her nails broke his skin and a trickle of red traced his throat. Her gaze lowered, drawn first to the blood then the seductive beat of his heart as it pulsed in his neck. His pulse jumped beneath his skin, urging her on, daring her to bite. She was unable to resist any longer, and her tongue stroked the spot where the skin thinned. Her 48
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hips rocked in time with the beat of his heart, the head of his cock never quite sliding into her core no matter how much she tried to shift position. He grinned and tilted his head, inviting her, trusting her. Her teeth scraped over his skin, razors of need. She swallowed. One bite. She’d been so good. She hadn’t bitten anyone in such a long time. He sensed her hesitation and with a step turned so her back hit the mirror. It cracked beneath the force as Etienne thrust his cock into her wet pussy. A hundred tiny cuts ignited her blood. Desire melted her resistance as she forgot everything except the sensation of his body against hers, in hers, drowning out all other thoughts except her need for more. She wanted all of him. His hands were firm on her hips, his neck against her mouth and his breath on her ear. She gasped with each thrust, but it wasn’t enough. She bit. Her teeth sank into his neck as he pressed deeper into her core. His blood pumped into her mouth. His rumbling groan in her ear urged her on. Drunk with desire, she spun out of control, unable to stop drinking to breathe. Her nails dug into his shoulder as she came, her pussy clenching around his shaft, her body racked with a pleasure more intense than anything she’d ever experienced. Blood flowed, sweet and sharp. She would drown before she had enough. He tore her away. She landed on the bed. Dizzy, she fought for air, for blood. The hunger she’d thought walled up surged. She growled. His body caged hers, blocking her fight, but his smile revealed razor-sharp teeth. All pointed, not just fangs. Unlike her, he was in control. “You need to be more careful, ma cherie.” Blood splashed on her breast, staining her skin. The ragged bite on Etienne’s neck wept a stream of red. A tear he couldn’t feel. With a grunt, she shoved his chest. She had to get away from him before she did more damage. He let her go and he rolled to the other side of the bed. Maria wiped her hand over her mouth. Her fingers came away guilty-red. The blood in her stomach curdled. “I’m not safe to be around.”
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They sat facing each other. A line of blood rolled down Etienne’s chest. She watched its path until the blood dripped on the white sheet and exploded in a burst of scarlet. Etienne touched the wound as if he were a doctor assessing the damage. “You need to close the bite.” He grabbed her hand before she could retreat, giving her no choice but to follow her arm and be pulled on to his lap. Her legs settled around his hips. She tensed, trying to resist the lure of his blood, his rapid pulse echoed by her heart. Hypnotized, she leaned in, her breasts brushing his chest. “No.” He leaned back just out of reach. “Just lick the wound closed.” “I can’t.” If she moved, she would bite. She would kill him. Everything she feared was coming back. She began to shake. “Yes, you can.” He smoothed her hair. Calm even though it was his life staining the sheets. “I don’t want to hurt you.” But she couldn’t take her eyes off the blood that seeped from her bite on his neck. “You’ll never do that.” He said it as fact, but she heard the wistful note, the wish left unspoken. “I can teach you how to bite safely, but you have to trust me.” Maria hesitated. He was trusting her with his life. Did she trust herself? Could she unlearn the violence of her first blood and learn to bite to give pleasure? Etienne wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace so she had no choice but to taste him again. She sealed the torn edges of skin with a quick lick, the burn of his blood now not so sweet. He trailed his fingers down her neck, her shoulder, her arm. “You were never taught to bite safely.” His tongue flicked over the pulse on her inner wrist.
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She trembled. Her skin was ice, but inside heat flared, tumbling through her blood. She looked away, not wanting to see if he bit in retaliation. Crimson was smeared across the once pristine white sheets. “You’ve never been bitten.” His lips touched her skin. “To know what to do, you need to know what it feels like.” “What does it feel like?” she asked the Vampire who’d lost all sensation. He flicked her a wicked grin. “The rush you get from tasting is a fraction of the thrill you’ll feel when being bitten.” Her back tingled from cuts, not bites, but it was enough that she understood. There’d been no sting, only the ecstasy of spilling blood. He never got that rush. “You miss it?” His eyes said it all. “Missing things doesn’t change the reality. But I can show you and you can experience what I can no longer feel.” She swallowed and nodded. “Is it safe?” “That depends. Is moaning in delight your definition of safe?” “None of this is safe.” Yet if what she had before meeting Etienne was safe, she didn’t want to go back. “But it feels right.” Her mouth sought his, slowly exploring his teeth without entangling hers, taking the time to feel the curve of his mouth and the point of his fangs. His fingers traced the delicate cuts made by the mirror on her back. Already her skin was healing, her body mending faster because of the blood she’d taken from him. “You have no piercings.” He rubbed the naked lobe of her ear between his thumb and finger. “I don’t trust anyone else with a needle.” Her spread pussy brushed against his still-hard shaft. The smooth head of his cock nudged closer. She rolled her hips, inviting entrance.
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“Do you trust my teeth?” His hands caressed her hips, ensuring he never slid home and filled her waiting core. He teased and he was enjoying it, his gaze skimming down her body to where their flesh met, his shaft pressed against her pussy without giving her any satisfaction, but giving him a view he could enjoy. And she couldn’t deny him the only joy he got out of sex. Knowing he was watching her every move and listening to her every sigh with more attention than all her other lovers combined was a new sensation—one that started in her heart instead of between her legs. Her skin heated as expectation built, crawling under her skin and tightening around her lungs. The rocking of Etienne’s hips was enough to wind her up without offering release. His eyes held a promise of pleasure and all she had to do was agree. “Yes, I trust you.” Etienne shifted and his cock slid into her pussy, filling her but not sating her desire. She inhaled, the metal in his chest brushing against her breasts. Heat surged, drawing her nerves as tight as bowstrings as he brought her hand to his mouth. His eyes on hers, darkness consumed her soul as he kissed her with lips, tongue and teeth, invoking desire, not fear, until all she wanted was to feel his bite. The touch of his teeth on her skin fueled the fire in her blood. All she heard was the pounding of her heart in her ears as she reached the edge, ready to fall. She moaned and pressed her hips down, hoping to find the release she needed. His fangs cut and she came, gasping for breath, her core quivering and her blood simmering too hot in her veins. Before she could recover fully he nipped again, sending her spiraling down, her body responding to his as if she’d been made for him. She tried to steady her breathing as he stilled, his cock inside her, unspent. “Now it’s your turn.” She looked at him and this time she couldn’t refuse.
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Etienne offered Maria his wrist. While he would be numb to the bite, he could watch, and watching her was the best thrill he’d come across—aside from performing— in many decades. She played to his weakness instead of ignoring his lack of feeling and seeking to satisfy her own lust. Nothing obvious, just a slight shift in her body to give him a better view, but something none had ever done without prompting or positioning. Her lips caressed his flesh, her gaze on him beneath her dark lashes as if she knew how important watching was to him. Her tongue danced along the pale blue vein, something that should have evoked more of a response than a half-drawn gasp as he held on to the hope of feeling something. She pressed her teeth to his wrist, her eyes white with bloodlust. He held his breath. If she lost control, she could easily tear open his artery—he wouldn’t heal fast enough to fix that damage. She blinked slowly and her irises regained some color, then she nicked his skin. A tiny stab of excitement hit his heart. Like the jolt in the club, it was so small he could’ve imagined it, but it had happened twice now, the delicate rush that dissipated too fast for him pause analyze. But he wanted to feel it again and Maria was the catalyst. The old hope of healing rose unbidden and unwanted like a painful memory he couldn’t live without. He growled and lifted her off his lap, flipped her over onto her knees and entered her tight core from behind. This way he could watch, this way he knew he could get off instead of relying on wishful thinking and tasteless memories of the life he’d once had. He couldn’t live chasing the impossible. He had to exist in the now. His gaze dropped, following each thrust and the way her cream coated his shaft. His cock slid in and out of her slick pink pussy and she panted as she met each thrust. Her sex glistened as she took him in, her breathing rough and her heart racing his. For once he just wanted to enjoy the moment without the taint of the past.
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Etienne shut out the old memories he’d relied on for too long and focused only on Maria and the way she moved. The way her legs parted a little further, her butt lifted a little higher. He would come with her alone or he wouldn’t bother. He gripped her hips, urging some feeling from his useless flesh. He licked his thumb and pressed it against the tight pucker of her ass. She cried out again, breathless. The little spark flared again as his heart gave a hard squeeze, announcing he was done. This time he knew he hadn’t imagined the slight sensation lingering in his blood. He fisted his hand, but didn’t feel his nails cutting into his palm. His skin was still numb, even though something was changing. Why was Maria dragging back sensations he’d blocked out centuries ago? Maria sighed and laid her head on the bed. He leaned over her and kissed the halfhealed cuts on her back. Then he curled around her and drew her into his embrace. She was limp in his arms, her eyes heavy lidded with sated desire. She placed her mouth to his in a long lingering kiss, the kind that lovers share when what they have is more than quick, rough lust. Being with her was crazy, he was tempting destruction again, yet all he could think about was when he’d be able to escape the tour and come back and see her, if only for a night. With Maria he wasn’t just risking his life, he was risking his heart.
Maria was heavy and weightless at the same time. Light crept through her eyelids. She rolled and pulled the sheet over her head. Her body protested, her muscles ached, her skin stung from a hundred different cuts. Etienne. She shivered as her body remembered the night before. She’d never let herself go with anyone…and she’d certainly never stayed the night. She stretched out a foot, searching for Etienne, and it swept cleanly across the bed. She tried the other side. Same. Where was he? With a grunt, she sat up, squinting against the strength of the morning sun. Was it always this bright and sharp? She put her hand up to shield her eyes and brought the room into focus.
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The hotel room was exquisite, or had been. A four-poster bed, the sheets and cover now ruined with dried blood. The shards of the ornate mirror reflected the room. Etienne sat on the sofa in a bath robe, reading the paper and sipping—she closed her eyes and inhaled—green tea. Her senses were heightened from the excess of blood last night. Gingerly she eased out of bed; the sunlight stabbed her skin everywhere it touched as if she’d been sunburned. She wasn’t, but blood increased light sensitivity, not something she usually suffered from. The last time…she had vague recollection of hiding in the forest, of every sound being too loud and the merest hint of sunlight too bright. Shock and fear had kept her moving. Her skin had blistered and healed just as fast. But come night she could see everything, she’d traveled fast and far and lost herself in the nearest city she found. She’d remained lost for so long. Etienne turned his head. “I didn’t realize you were awake.” He got up and drew the curtains, casting the room in shadows. “Welcome to a Vampire hangover. Tea?” Maria rubbed a hand over her face to clear the old memory. This morning that was all it was. The fear had lost its power. She’d reclaimed who she was thanks to Etienne, but she wasn’t ready to face him yet. “Bathroom.” He was far too chirpy—not being able to feel obviously had the useful benefit of not feeling like yesterday’s leftovers. But she knew the feeling would pass and she would be faster and stronger for a little while until the etheric in the blood was used up and absorbed into her body. He pointed to the other door in the room and she made her exit. She showered and examined the damage. Both her wrists were marked. Her ankles. Inner thighs. All were partially healed, most nothing more than twin scratches. She closed her eyes. Etienne’s teeth had been everywhere and so had hers. The water drummed on her head. She hadn’t killed him. In fact he’d seemed to enjoy watching her learn to bite—and she’d enjoyed tasting him. Her stomach flipped as she tried to make sense of the conflicting thoughts.
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The violence they could inflict coupled with a tender caress. It was more than sex. Sex she could walk away from without looking back. They’d shared something more. In swapping etheric they’d created a temporary bond. It would fade with time if they let it. Already the thought scared her. She didn’t want to lose what she’d only just found. Yet she would. He would leave town and that would be the end. There were a dozen reasons she should let him. Every one of them was a lie brought on by the fear of letting someone close. She toweled off, torn between wanting to stay and wanting to leave before he could make the first strike and she’d have to feel her heart break. Wrapped in the matching plush white bathrobe, she finally felt brave enough to face the other Vampire. The only Vampire who’d ever bitten her, only the second Vampire she’d ever bitten and the only one to survive. When she saw him, her words dried on her tongue. She wanted to prolong the ending as long as possible. “We got a good review in the paper.” He held up the newspaper to show her the picture. Her blue G-string was visible, hanging out the side of his leather pants. Immortalized forever. And Vampires had long memories. She cast her eye over the room, looking for her clothes. He’d tidied up while she’d been in the bathroom. “Where are they?” “With your dress.” He pointed to the black fabric hanging over the back of the chair at the desk. “Eat. There’s no rush.” She saw the uncertainty in his eyes. He was expecting her to bolt and was trying to entice her to stay. He didn’t have to try hard. She would have stayed even if he hadn’t ordered breakfast in the form of little pastries. He patted the sofa next to him. “I won’t bite.” “Liar,” she said with a grin. If she stayed, she’d never leave. But if she left, she knew she’d never get another chance with Etienne. She wanted to know why he was
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giving her that chance. He could have any woman he wanted, yet he was teaching her how to be a Vampire who could play nicely with others. “Well, not before twelve, that would be uncivilized.” His lips curved as she sat and selected a pastry. “Is that right?” Who knew there was etiquette involved when biting people? The pastry melted in her mouth and the apple and custard filling oozed out. “Mmm.” She caught the custard with her finger before it fell on the bathrobe. “You’re missing out.” His gaze lifted from her mouth. “No, I’m not.” Then he leaned over and took a bite of hers. His bath robe opened, revealing red welts interspaced by stainless steel. He hadn’t felt a single scratch. Guilt washed over her and threatened to drown her. She shouldn’t be hurting him when he couldn’t feel— no matter how much he claimed to adore watching her nails rake over his skin. She smoothed her thumb over a scratch, wishing she’d been gentler, wishing he could feel her touch instead of just watching and remembering. “Is there no treatment?” He raised an eyebrow. “There’s nothing to fix. According to the doctors, body and brain just aren’t on speaking terms.” She popped the rest of the pastry into her mouth and chewed. “What do you miss most?” A small smile graced his lips, “Do you need to ask?” He cupped her chin and took a pastry-sweetened kiss. “I miss feeling hungry. Taste without hunger is hollow, a craving that is never filled.” They would both be eternally unsatisfied. No matter how much she got off on him, it would never be enough, not when he couldn’t feel the same thrill. “What happened?” Maria watched as he weighed his heart against hers. She didn’t know what she wanted—the easy lie or the dirty truth?
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Etienne let out a breath burdened with history. “During the French Revolution, my lover betrayed me twice. Once for being noble, the second for being Vampire. The guillotine was deemed too quick for my kind—why give a demon a simple death? I was locked up and tortured. They claimed it was to force the devil out and save my soul before killing me. Back then we didn’t know what made us different from humans, only that we were. I don’t know how long I spent in their most gentle care. To survive I buried all sensation, hunger, heat, cold, anything they tried to use against me. I was eventually rescued by Owen.” He glanced at her. “Sirius. By the time I could walk again, she was dead.” He paused and took a breath, as if putting aside the memory again. “Your turn.” To balance the scales, she had to respond. Their past was so similar, still holding them prisoner. Yet so different. He wasn’t a killer and she was. What if he rejected her once he knew? She’d never told anyone. She’d spent so long living with the fear of being found out that she wasn’t sure she could set herself free. Etienne waited, sipping his tea as if he had all the time in the world. Maybe they did. There was no pretty way to say what she’d done, so she kept it simple. “I killed.” “By biting.” He’d already worked part of her past out. She nodded. “There was no other way. My village was overtaken by soldiers. All the Vampires were caught and used for a human experiment to create a better soldier. When they failed to get results, they began starving the parents and then feeding their children to them, hoping someone would break and reveal the secret to immortality and rapid healing. My mother sacrificed herself so I could live.” Maria tried to swallow the ache in her throat. “I killed her.” He didn’t recoil in horror as she’d expected. Instead he held her against his chest as if she might break. Against her cheek the metal was cold, but his skin warm. She didn’t move or try to pull herself away from his embrace. For the first time she relaxed as she no longer had to hold on to such a heavy secret. She was free.
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His hands were gentle on her hair and back. “How old were you?” “Sixteen.” She closed her eyes. She was too young for blood, her fangs hadn’t even begun appearing, yet for her there’d been no other choice. The steady beat of his heart thudded in her ear. “How old were you?” “Old enough that I should’ve been smarter. I knew what was happening, but I didn’t think the Revolution would reach me. I thought I was safe. And I would’ve been if not for her.” “Did you love her?” “Yes.” Silence swelled in the pause. “I want to see you again.” Maria extracted herself from his arms. “You don’t date.” He’d made that clear, and while she hoped for more, she didn’t want to be danced along at the end of a string wanting something that could never be. He would always be leaving, but hope flared at the thought of seeing him again. “I could make an exception.” His hand stroked her thigh and slid under her robe. The featherlight touch of his fingers grazed the bite on her inner thigh and swept over her pussy without lingering, but reminding her of how good they were together. She battled the heat already awakening at his touch and the promise it held. He made her want to be Vampire, something she’d avoided for so long. Etienne made her feel alive. “How long would you be gone for?” “A few weeks, back for a few nights, then gone again. But after the tour ends…” His mouth closed over hers as his fingers found her clit and circled, teasing the nerves and dipping into her core. His fingers slid over her silky skin and drew her to the edge of climax with a few sure strokes. A few weeks without him already seemed like a lifetime. He’d forget, move on and find someone else to play with. But for now he was hers. She closed her eyes and gave in to his caress. As long as she didn’t think about him leaving he wouldn’t hear her heart tearing. She’d fallen for him and impaled herself in the process.
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Heat coiled in her belly, tightening as he brought her closer without using his teeth. She opened her eyes and peeked at him under her lashes. As usual he was watching, so she let her leg fall open a little wider and was rewarded with an intake of breath as his gaze flickered between her face and her legs spread, exposing her pussy, for his enjoyment. Knowing the enjoyment he got out of watching spurred her on. She let her robe fall open, exposing her breasts. Her fingers pinched her hard nipple, plucking and teasing, sending sparks of desire deep into her belly. It was brazen, something she’d never done in front of another, yet with Etienne it was exciting. And would excite him. He would fill in the details he couldn’t feel as long as she drew the outline by offering him a view he couldn’t resist. He plunged his fingers deep into her core, his thumb still on her clit. She could hardly breathe, she wanted to come so bad. Their gazes met and ripples of pleasure spread from her pussy. She moaned, rocking her hips against his hand as he worked her, dragging out each wave, her muscles trembling at his touch. Then he moved. The heat of his cock touched her sensitized flesh like a brand. She put her hand on his chest to stop him even though she wanted to feel his shaft sinking into her pussy and bringing her to climax again. Etienne eased back, his eyebrows pinched in question, but she just gave him a sultry smile. He deserved more than just pleasuring her, and she had something to make sure he remembered her by and something he’d love to watch in mind. Maria slid the robe from her shoulders as she dropped to her knees on the floor. The muscles of her legs were soft. In his hands she melted like chocolate in the sun and she wanted to return the experience. She opened his robe fully, pushed his legs apart and took hold of his shaft. Her nails were gentle on his skin as she trailed her fingers over his length. She knew he was watching without lifting her gaze. His breath had caught, and his heart now raced. The pulse in his thigh was rapid and light. He was hers.
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Slowly she ran her tongue up the underside of his shaft and swept around the glans. The scent of sex clung to him, making her pussy clench. She flicked her tongue across the slit, then took his cock in her mouth. He swallowed a groan, but she didn’t look up. Kneeling naked in front of him with him tracking her every move was a powerful rush, but she wasn’t ready to look him in the eye while sucking his cock. Instead she ran her nails lightly over the skin of his thigh, doing no damage, but still giving him what he liked—the look of her nails on his flesh. His hips moved and his hand threaded into her hair, cupping her head. Her tongue swirled around the head of his shaft before taking him deeper. Etienne drew in a sharp breath and she braved a glance up. His black eyes burned with more than simple lust. Trapped in his gaze, she released his shaft, instead working her hand over his length and licking the crown, taking her time with each stroke of her tongue. Each bead of come that formed she kissed away, drawing him closer to the edge as he watched her taste him. Teasing, she took just the glans in her mouth, caressing the velvet skin with her lips. His breathing became rough and hard, but instead of giving in, he closed his eyes. For a heartbeat she wondered what he was doing and she faltered. “Don’t stop.” He ground out the words. So she didn’t. With nails, tongue and lips, she worked his cock, wondering what pleasure he was gaining by not watching. Was he feeling something? Or committing the sight if her mouth around his shaft to memory? Either way she’d left an impression. Two more strokes and he spilled on her tongue. She swallowed his come the same way she’d taken his blood, and enjoyed a different taste of Etienne. He opened his eyes and pulled her up, then kissed her hard. “I think I love you, Lady Maria.” He kissed her again, his tongue brushing hers and his eyes dark with intent. Maria’s heart fluttered, wanting to join in his joy, but she couldn’t. She had to protect herself. He was a rock star in a different city every other night. 61
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“You just like what I did.” Although she struggled to believe that was the best head job he’d ever had. “When I’m with you, I feel something.” Something? Love? She doubted it. “You can’t feel.” “I know.” He frowned as if he was just as perplexed. “And it’s not much. A tingle, a hint of sensation that passes so fast it’s almost gone before I recognize it. But it’s there when you touch me.” “Maybe it’s not me. Maybe you’re just getting better.” Her nails pressed into his arm through the robe. He shook his head. “I felt your touch on my cock. I closed my eyes to make sure the sensation was real.” She uncurled her fingers and lifted his sleeve, revealing three red crescents. He hadn’t felt a thing. “It’s okay. I know you’re leaving.” She stood. She had to go before her heart cracked. “You don’t have to make it easy.” “I’m not. When we’re together, having sex…making love.” He paused. Maria gave him a chaste kiss, then whispered, “You can explain it to me if you come back. If you don’t, I guess we’re even.” He’d taught her to bite, and in exchange she’d given him his first feeling in over two hundred years. So why did it feel as if she was walking away from everything she’d ever wanted?
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Chapter Five Each Monday a parcel arrived by courier. Each time sent from a different city— New York, Washington, Boston—and each time the same gift. Blue underwear in lace, silk and cotton, and in every shade from pastel to electric. Except today. Maria hated admitting that she’d spent the day waiting, but she had. Now it was one minute past five and no present had arrived. Etienne had finally moved on. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart fisted in her chest, punching her ribs. It was over. Sweet relief should have been flooding her body. No more Vampires. No more scouring the internet and gossip magazine for the latest news on Lucinda’s Lover and Thanatos. No more imagining the reunion in exquisite detail each night in bed, pretending her hands were his. She had her life back, instead of waiting for a parcel, a phone call. Anything. Bastard. She’d exposed her soul and he’d made her care about him. She wanted him so badly she ached all over. There was no pleasure in her job. No needle big enough to drive out the pain. No body part sensitive enough. No needle sharp enough when all she wanted to do was to sink her teeth into his flesh and taste his blood on her tongue while he fucked her hard. To block out the swelling pain, she went through the closing routine—but slowly as if by delaying closing the shop the day wasn’t really over and he hadn’t forgotten about her. She emptied the cash register and put the money in the safe out the back. Someone knocked on the front door. She gasped as relief flooded her. He hadn’t forgotten. She
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had to stop herself from running out the front to greet the courier and force herself to walk. In the doorway she stopped, unable to move. Jeans, a red t-shirt declaring Vive la Revolution and a leather jacket. Etienne was back. She swallowed and tried to act calm, as if she hadn’t spent the last four weeks longing for him. She unlocked the door and let him in. “You’re late.” Her voice still managed to sound hopeful instead of harsh. “I wanted to hand deliver.” Etienne held a package out to her. “I would’ve rung, but we don’t date.” She nodded, unable to speak. Her legs moved toward him without command and her hand accepted the gift. Tied into the white ribbon was a ring. The stone glistened like a drop of blood against the gold filigree band. Maria released her breath slowly. She lifted her gaze to his face. “Next week the European leg starts.” She knew that. Lucinda’s Lover were going to Paris for the first time, and she understood what it would cost him to return to the city that had stolen so much from him. “I’d like you to come with me. Paris is beautiful this time of year.” “What made you change your mind about Paris?” “Owen told me to build a bridge and get over it. If we didn’t play in every city he’d ever had a bad experience in we wouldn’t be playing anywhere. And a Were-seal also had a go at me for letting you walk out.” He gave her a tight smile. “I don’t like being threatened by a woman with sharper teeth than me. Then there is this Vampire I know who’s never been to Paris and I thought maybe a spring wedding in the Versailles palace gardens might win her over and prove how much she means to me.” She blinked and then she realized this was a proposal. He was asking her to marry him…in Versailles. Maria found her voice. “Diamond is more traditional.”
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“Ruby is more appropriate.” “I could say no.” “Then we’ll have to date. Dinner, flowers, chocolates.” Etienne shook his head. “Neither of us wants that.” “That would be horrible.” She pulled the tail of the ribbon, accepting his offer of marriage. Etienne caught the ring. She held out a hand that trembled on an imagined breeze. The ring slid perfectly onto her finger. “It’s rude not to finish opening your present.” His black eyes burned with intent. Her hand was heavier, the ring in the way as she opened the paper. Claret lace. She turned her hand over. A faultless match to the ruby. She kissed his cheek, the stubble rough against her skin. “Thank you.” “My pleasure.” “Is it?” “Kiss me again and I’ll let you know.” Maria rose on to her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her close, his hands on her butt just the way she’d dreamed. Her lips brushed his and she lifted her eyebrows. “Give me a chance.” She smiled and let her fangs drop. Her tongue darted into his mouth as her teeth raked his lip without cutting, willing him to feel her touch. This time his shaft hardened against her belly. “Mmm. Maybe. I think you should lock the door so we can investigate a bit further.” “Or maybe you should come back to my place…our place.” “You can wait that long?” His fingers skimmed the side of her breast.
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She considered for a half a second, her skin craving to feel his hands, her panties already dampening with her need to be naked with him. “Lock the door.” They might have forever, but she didn’t want to waste another second waiting.
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About the Author Blessed with a lively imagination, Shona spent most of her childhood making up stories. As an adult she discovered romance novels and she hasn’t looked back. Dark fairy tales and the paranormal have always fascinated her and it’s not uncommon to get to know spirits, vampires, were-creatures and demi-gods through her books. In her free time Shona likes to keep fit and get creative in the kitchen…Toblerone brownies, anyone?
Shona welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Shona Husk Kissing Phoenix
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