Revelations, page 19
Footsteps sounded outside, a soft tread that I knew well, and I couldn’t keep a smile from breaking across my face.
Edmond opened the door.
Roux looked from me to Edmond and back again, and a mischievous gleam crept into her eyes. “I’ll just leave you two to . . . explore your room.”
She slipped out.
For a long moment Edmond and I stared at each other across the few feet of floor that separated us.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
I thought about it. “Calmer,” I said. “I’m still processing everything that’s happened, and I’m still not okay, but I’m not going to fall apart.”
“If you do fall, I’ll always catch you.”
“I know.”
I gazed at the vampire who’d stolen my heart, studying each line and angle of his face, his obsidian-black hair, and the sharp glitter of his eyes, and then I rushed across the room and threw myself into his arms.
Our lips collided. Edmond’s arms slid around my waist, crushing me to him, and I twisted my hands in his hair, kissing him like I was trying to drink him down. His fangs grazed my lip and I let out a little moan.
My own fangs slid out, so quickly that it stung. “Ow,” I complained, leaning back and pressing a hand to my mouth.
“Your fangs react to any kind of heightened emotion. Hunger, anger”—Edmond’s voice dropped a notch, vibrating along my skin—“excitement.”
“Maybe I’m a bit nervous,” I said.
“Nervous? You’re not . . .”
“A virgin? No, but I can’t compete with the number of lovers you must have racked up.”
“It’s a good thing it’s not a competition,” he teased.
“It’s not that. You’ve got so much experience and I’m scared of disappointing you.”
“How do you know I won’t disappoint you?” Edmond said.
“You’ve got several hundred years’ experience on me, Casanova.”
He chuckled, his hands gliding up my arms. The sweater I wore absorbed most of the sensation, but still I shivered.
“I’ll answer any question. What would you like to know?” he said.
“Can I ask how many people you’ve slept with?”
Edmond was silent for a moment. A lock of hair fell over his face but I didn’t brush it away; I loved the stark contrast of that inky hair against his pale skin. “If I could tell you, I would,” he said.
“But?” I prompted, because a but was obviously coming.
“But I don’t remember.”
I hadn’t considered that, but it made sense. It was easy to keep track if you were sexually active for a human’s lifetime, less so when you’d lived for hundreds of years.
“Do you remember when I told you about my life leading up to the French Revolution? During those years of selfishness and indulgence, I don’t remember everything I did. I took whatever I wanted, whether that was blood or sex. I took a lot of women into my bed, but I don’t remember how many. I couldn’t recall their faces if I tried, and I rarely knew their names.”
Well, I had asked.
“What’s the longest you went without sex?” I asked.
“Sixty years? Maybe more.”
“Oh wow. That’s a lifetime.”
“I haven’t been celibate any time recently, but it has been a very long time since I slept with anyone I truly cared about. I didn’t think I could feel that way about anyone again.”
“And now?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
Edmond studied my face, his glittering eyes absorbing every feature. “I have lived a very long time, and I’ve loved a number of women, but you, ma chérie—you undo me,” he whispered.
Everything inside me seemed to burn and clench at the gentle beauty of his words. I kissed him like I couldn’t stop, one hand twisting in his hair, the other flat against his chest, over his heart. Edmond pressed his hips against me, and even through his clothes I could feel how hard he was.
In my most private fantasies, I’d imagined what Edmond would look like naked, imagined the way his hands and mouth would feel roaming over my body. Now we were getting close to that, and my tongue was dry with anticipation, and though my heart didn’t beat anymore, I swore I felt an echo of it, frantically thumping in my chest.
“We don’t have to do this now,” Edmond murmured against my mouth.
“Yes, we do.”
We had no idea what was coming next or how long we’d be safe at Fiaigh, and I wanted to take this time with the man I loved while we still could.
Edmond gently pulled my damp hair out of its knot and let it spill around my shoulders. His eyes flared red with desire.
“Kiss me,” I whispered.
A fire had started beneath my skin, and when Edmond’s lips found mine again, when he started pulling at my clothes, I felt like I was about to combust. Edmond dropped my sweater to the floor. I wore nothing underneath, and the look in his eyes made me feel like something rare and precious.
I put both hands on my hips, posing for him, and gave him a wicked smile that Roux would have been proud of. I’d always been confident in my own skin, and the way Edmond gazed at me only bolstered that.
“Mon ange,” he breathed.
With my eyes locked on his, I reached for the button on my trousers, flicking it open with deliberate slowness. Edmond watched every movement, his eyes as red as melted rubies. I shimmied the trousers down and kicked them out of the way. Edmond’s gaze traveled slowly up my body, and everywhere he looked, I swore I felt the imprint of his hands and lips.
But that wasn’t enough.
I wanted the real thing.
I pulled off Edmond’s clothes with none of the slowness I’d employed for my own, but when he stood naked in front of me, all I could do was stare. He was more beautiful than any man had a right to be. My eyes trailed over the pale perfection of his chest, skin stretched tight over every line of muscle, and then moved down . . .
“Mon ange.” His voice was a wicked caress. “I do believe you’re blushing.”
“Vampires can’t blush.”
He responded with a slow grin that made me tingle. When he walked toward me, I thought we would take things slow, so it caught me by surprise when he suddenly scooped me into his arms and slung me onto the bed. He braced his weight on his forearms so his body hovered above mine, perfectly aligned but not quite touching.
I drew my knees up on either side of Edmond’s hips. His eyes burned even hotter, scorching trails across my skin. His hands followed the path of his eyes, shaping themselves around my breasts and hips, gliding between my legs to touch me where I wanted him the most. My whole body jumped in response, electricity zipping through me.
“Tell me you love me,” Edmond whispered, nipping at my ear, his tongue tracing the lobe. “I need to hear you say it.”
“I love you. Edmond, I love you so much.”
His hands were gentle at first, bringing me closer and closer to a place where only bliss existed, then he sheathed himself inside, and I let out a little cry, my nails digging into his shoulders. His mouth found mine, urging my tongue into a desperate dance, as his hips moved into a desperate rhythm.
Whenever I’d fantasized about sex with Edmond, I’d always imagined it to be pretty damn spectacular. The reality blew the fantasy away. Edmond slid an arm beneath my waist, pulling my lower body tighter against him as he thrust. My hands roamed over him, feeling the places where the smoothness of his skin gave way to the ridges of scar tissue on his back, wounds he’d received as a human, and down to the shrapnel embedded in his side. Even though I didn’t need to breathe, my breaths came quick and fast, my lips shaping his name at the end of every cry.
The pressure inside me wound tighter and tighter, coiling through every muscle, every nerve ending until I felt like I was drowning in sweet fire, like I was going to snap. And then I did snap, pure pleasure exploding throughout my body, Edmond’s name forming a scream on my lips.
I slumped back on the bed, tiny electric shudders still rippling through me. Edmond’s nose brushed mine, his black hair hanging like a curtain around us. “I’m not done with you yet,” he whispered, his voice husky.
He was still rock-hard inside me, and the muscles in his arms bulged where his entire weight rested on them. My whole body had gone limp in the wake of a blistering orgasm, but when Edmond lowered his head and nibbled the line of my throat, his fangs gently scraping my skin, every muscle coiled again in delicious anticipation.
“I want to see that look in your eyes again,” Edmond murmured, his tongue tracing the shape of my useless pulse. “I want to see you come apart again.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before he was moving, his hips meeting mine with greater force. His eyes never left my face, watching every gasp and moan I made as our bodies melded together.
When I came again, it was with a hoarse scream, and this time Edmond joined me, gasping out my name before his mouth crashed down on mine, drinking my lingering cries as aftershocks shuddered through my system.
“I didn’t think I’d ever do this again,” Edmond whispered, kissing my shoulder. I lay naked in his arms, my back against his chest, our legs tangled together, the hard edges of his body against the soft curves of mine.
“Have sex?” I said.
“Lie with someone in my arms like this.”
I jabbed a playful elbow into the hard muscles of his stomach.
“What do you normally do—wham, bam, thank you, ma’am? Don’t let the door hit you on the way out?”
Edmond stroked the curve of my hip. “I never thought I’d lie in bed with someone I truly loved again.”
I laced my fingers with his and pulled his arm around my stomach. He leaned over to kiss me, and I twisted my head back, giving him better access.
“Immortality is not always what people believe it is,” he murmured. “A vampire’s life can be long and lonely, and I don’t ever want you to regret making this choice.”
“I won’t,” I whispered. “Your life was lonely because you were alone. But I won’t be, because I have you.”
“Tu es ma raison d’être, ” he said.
“What does that mean?”
He lifted a handful of my hair, watching the auburn strands trickle through his fingers. “You are my reason for being.”
“Smooth talker.”
“Tu es si bel e.”
“Hey, Frenchy,” I teased. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I said you are so beautiful.” A languid smile curled his lips. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it when I speak French to you.”
It would be pointless to deny it—I loved the way his voice took on a foreign lilt, the way it curled around the French vowels like he was tasting them.
“Say something else,” I said, snuggling against him.
Edmond murmured to me in French, and I had no idea what he was saying, but the sound of his voice made me feel safe.
Chapter twenty
Renie
Edmond fell asleep before me. Much as I’d liked lying naked together, I’d persuaded him to put some pants on before we settled down for the night—despite Caoimhe’s assurances that Etienne couldn’t sneak up on us, I was terrified that he’d find a way. If we suddenly had to go on the run again, we weren’t doing it naked.
Every time I closed my eyes I saw Etienne’s face, his eyes soft with sympathy as he told me that he was sorry that I had to die. He wouldn’t stop coming after us, and I had no idea how to stop him.
I sat up, pushing my hair off my face. Edmond didn’t stir. I looked down at him as he slept, his hair spilled across the pillow like ink, and the knot of tension in my chest eased. We would get through this. Etienne would not win.
Gently, I ran my thumb along the dark brushstrokes of Edmond’s eyebrow, and along the edge of his cheekbone. He opened his eyes and smiled at me, soft and sleepy. I traced the shape of his mouth, and he kissed my fingertip. Then he frowned.
“What’s wrong?” I said.
“I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted us to share a room like this, but it’s not supposed to be here,” Edmond said. He muttered something sharp in French. “It’s meant to be at Belle Morte. That’s our home.”
I wasn’t so sure it was my home, but Edmond had lived there for more than half my lifetime. It was home to him, and I wished I knew what to say.
Suddenly Edmond went very still, like a panther about to strike.
I started to speak, but he put a finger to my lips and shook his head. Someone’s outside the door, he mouthed.
That shouldn’t have come as a surprise—Fiaigh was bigger than Belle Morte and I didn’t know how many people lived here—but something about Edmond’s body language made my skin prickle with warning. He thought something was wrong.
What do we do? I mouthed.
Edmond put a hand on my chest and gently pushed me down. I assumed he wanted me to pretend I was sleeping—the last thing I wanted when a threat was lurking outside our door.
But I trusted Edmond.
I closed my eyes.
A few moments passed, and my whole body felt as tense as a wire, and then the bedroom door quietly opened. If I was human, I wouldn’t have heard it, or the near noiseless footsteps on the wooden floor. There was no heartbeat, no breathing, so our intruder was a vampire. Etienne’s face flashed through my head again, and I had to fight not to leap out of bed.
The footsteps drew closer, and the urge to run became so strong I could almost taste it.
There was a pause, as if the intruder was trying to decide what to do, then the footsteps moved to Edmond’s side of the bed. I heard the faintest whisper of metal on metal, and fear gripped my throat like a fist. But still I didn’t move.
Edmond struck like a snake. I heard the crack of breaking bone, and a sharp cry, then I scrambled out of bed and ran for the light switch on the wall, momentarily forgetting that my vampire vision was good enough to see in the dark.
A vampire I’d never seen before knelt beside the bed, Edmond standing over him. Edmond had twisted the vampire’s left arm up behind his back with one hand; his other hand had a tight grip on the vampire’s throat. The vampire’s right arm dangled at his side. It looked badly broken. About a foot away, a long knife gleamed on the floor where the vampire must have dropped it.
The door flew open behind me and I leaped back, my eyes frantically scanning the room for a weapon in case the strange vampire had backup.
Ludovic and Ysanne stood in the doorway. Ysanne’s eyes blazed red and her fangs were like sharpened daggers. The vampire on the floor shrank back, and I didn’t blame him. Edmond might have broken the guy’s arm but Ysanne looked like she was about to rip him apart.
“What happened?” she said, and her voice was so cold, I half expected frost to creep up the walls.
“Eoghan tried to stab me in my sleep,” Edmond said, giving the vampire a little shake.
“He wasn’t alone,” said an Irish lilt, and Ludovic and Ysanne moved out of the doorway. Caoimhe stood behind them, and beside her was a tall blond man wearing the green uniform of Fiaigh security.
“Tadhg, you betrayed me?” Eoghan cried.
The guard looked at the floor, his shoulders hunched.
“He didn’t mention you, actually. You were just stupid enough to go after an older, stronger, faster vampire,” Caoimhe snapped, her eyes sparking red.
Eoghan tried to lunge forward, and Edmond slammed his head against the side of the bed. Vampires were made of sterner stuff than humans, but blood still trickled from the split skin on Eoghan’s forehead and dripped onto the wooden floor.
“Anyone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” I said, looking from Eoghan to Tadhg, and then to Caoimhe.
“I think we need to take this downstairs,” Caoimhe said.
“What about him?” Edmond asked, giving Eoghan another shake.
Eoghan tried again to pull away, and Edmond twisted his arm at an even sharper angle. “I’ll break this one too,” he warned.
Eoghan muttered something in what I assumed was Gaelic.
I heard footsteps on the floor outside the room, and then Seamus appeared in what was now a very crowded doorway. His uniform was askew and his hair a bit wild, as if he’d woken up and dressed in a hurry, but his expression was alert. I didn’t miss the look of disgust he gave Tadhg.
“There have been no other disturbances. All the donors are safe and sleeping,” he reported.
Caoimhe nodded. “Cuff him.”
Seamus pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and approached Eoghan. Edmond held the other vampire steady while Seamus snapped the cuffs onto his wrists, and from the hissing noise Eoghan made, I guessed the cuffs were silver.
I knew exactly how painful that was, and for a split second I felt a flicker of sympathy for Eoghan. Then I remembered that he’d tried to kill Edmond, and that sympathy was promptly snuffed out.
“To the cells?” Seamus asked Caoimhe.
“Yes. Maeve and Fion will help escort him there.” Caoimhe walked over to the knife that Eoghan had dropped. She picked it up and tilted it so the light overhead played off the polished blade. Her eyes were icy cold when she looked at Eoghan. His own eyes blazed with anger, but he dropped his gaze first.
Seamus hauled Eoghan to his feet and pushed him to the door.
I still expected him to fight back, despite his broken arm and the silver cuffs, but apparently even he wasn’t that stupid. Silently, he let Seamus march him out of the room.
“Caoimhe,” Tadhg started, but she silenced him with a slashing motion of her hand.
“Dining room. Now,” she said.
I sidled around the bed and took Edmond’s hand, but he didn’t look at me. His eyes were fixed on Caoimhe, and his expression was chilly. Caoimhe glanced at him, looked away again, then stalked out of the room. Tadhg scurried before her, and Ysanne and Ludovic followed.
“Edmond?” I said. I was missing something here.
