Chapter Thirteen
“You want me to help you find a vampire?” Mr. Drake asked.
Felicity stepped backward, shocked by the vehemence in his voice. A moment ago, he had insisted all he cared about was his own survival, but now he was talking as if he were a paragon of virtue.
“It’s a murderer,” she said flatly. “It slaughtered my parents. As a hunter, it’s my responsibility to track it down.”
Something she would have much preferred to do alone, but her recent brush with death had shaken her more than she cared to admit.
There was no point in fighting on her own.
She’d only get herself killed before she could complete her mission.
Nor could she trust Great-Uncle Ezra to help.
He’d be more likely to have her locked up in a madhouse than approve of her actions after he’d forbidden her from investigating.
That left Mr. Drake.
“How do you even know the vampire you’re looking for is still alive?”
She didn’t want to tell him the truth, but it was the only way to get him to take her seriously. “After we fought the fledgling, I noticed a bruise on its neck. It was the same mark I found on my parents the night they died. That can’t be a coincidence.”
Jonathan groaned. “You don’t understand what you’re asking.”
She stepped forward. “There are places in the city where your kind congregate. My family has been trying to find them for years but has had no success. You must know where those places are. Take me to them. That’s all I’m asking.”
He lifted a strand of her hair and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. “You would be putting yourself in tremendous danger.”
“I know.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Do you? If any vampire we met realized who or what you were, they’d kill you in an instant. I might not be able to protect you. They’d probably kill me just for accompanying you.”
There was the selfish motivation she’d been expecting. He wasn’t afraid for her safety. His only concern was for his own welfare.
“I suppose it might be fun,” he said. “I’ve never helped a hunter before.” He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I accept your deal.” The corner of his lip quirked. “But I suspect your courage will falter when you learn where you will have to venture to complete your mission.”
She snorted. “I doubt that.” He did not know everything she had faced in her quest for vengeance. There was nothing he could say that would make her change her mind. She thrust out her arm. “We have a deal.”
He slid his hand around hers and squeezed. It was merely a sealing of their agreement, but it felt like so much more, especially when he rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. A shiver went down her spine. She put a more appropriate distance between them and squared her shoulders. “Where do we start?”
His eyes swirled with blue again. “We start with you letting me bite you.”
Her jaw dropped open before she slammed it shut. “That is quite enough, Mr. Drake. What possible reason could you…?” She trailed off as he raised his hand to his nose and inhaled deeply.
When his eyelids fluttered open, his pupils were dilated. “Your scent,” he whispered. “It grows stronger with anger. Being bitten will dim its intensity.”
She clutched her trembling hands together. “M-My scent?”
He tilted his head to the side and grinned. “Change your mind already?” He licked his lips. “Too bad. I was looking forward to tasting you.”
Her cheeks heated. She donned her most fearsome scowl. “Your crude manners will not distract me.”
He laughed. “The little hunter has claws. Perhaps that is good. Most humans find a vampire’s bite rather intense.”
“I can manage anything you can do to me.” Before she’d known he was a vampire, she’d been prepared to become his mistress in exchange for his help.
“Well, then, we shouldn’t have a problem.” He narrowed the distance between them so quickly that she had to wrench her neck upward. She tried to reach for a weapon, but her arms and legs were stuck, as if she’d sunk into the floor to her chest.
He draped his arms over her shoulders and leaned forward until his forehead pressed against hers.
She opened her mouth to order him to release her when he slapped his palm over her mouth. “As much as I am enjoying your righteous anger, I cannot accompany you to the places you wish to visit unless you have been claimed.”
She scowled. The crucifix was terribly powerful, but it was still limited by her ability to speak.
He removed his hand from her face. “Damnable stubborn woman. Fine, I will explain. If you, an unclaimed human, entered one of my kind’s gathering spots, any vampire present would notice immediately.
” He ran his fingertips along her jaw. “They would try to bite you. If you resisted, they’d kill you. ”
She absently scratched the skin he had caressed. “I could wear a scarf. They wouldn’t know if there was a wound.” That sounded much better than letting him get so close to her. The thought of his lips caressing her neck made her feel like a thousand butterflies were flapping inside her chest.
“I would not leave a mark. The problem, my dear hunter, is your scent.” He dipped his head and inhaled deeply. “I can smell your purity from a mile away.”
She lifted the fabric of her blouse with two fingers and delicately sniffed. There was nothing aside from the faint odor of sweat and hints of the soap she’d used that morning.
“What do you say?” he whispered. He slid his arms around her back until she was pressed tightly against him, her palms flattened against his chest, her hips grinding into his.
She shivered. He was so cold, a pillar of marble absorbing the heat from her body.
If anyone caught them, her reputation would be ruined, and she would certainly lose her position.
Was the risk worth the possibility of avenging her parents?
“I-I don’t…” She wasn’t sure if it was the chill or her nerves causing her to stutter. Either way, it seemed to have an effect. He detached himself from her so quickly, she felt a strange sense of loss that left her reeling.
“That’s what I thought,” he said. The sudden change in his demeanor was jarring.
It was like he could change his personality with the flip of a switch.
In fact, that was probably exactly what it was.
He had no interest in her beyond using her to remove the crucifix and ensuring his own safety.
The draw that she felt between them was nothing more than two opposing sides of a magnet. A quirk of anatomy beyond her control.
With that thought, she viewed him with fresh eyes. His fangs were not out, and his eyes were entirely brown with no trace of blue. For the moment, she was in no danger.
“I agree.”
His eyebrows rose all the way to his hairline. “What?”
She unbuttoned the top three buttons of her bodice before she could change her mind, then grasped the fabric and pulled it back. “Do it.”
He stepped closer. She braced herself, but he stopped before he touched her. She glanced down to see his finger pointing at his own chest. “The crucifix.”
She flushed, having almost forgotten he was not capable of biting her while he wore the item. Removing it would put her in enormous danger, but she had to take that chance. She still had her weapons and could scream to draw the guards circling the other parts of the museum if necessary.
She removed the artifact from around his neck but kept it balled in her palm.
“W-Will it hurt?” she asked. She hadn’t intended to speak the words, but they had come out unbidden. She had read several accounts of hunters who had been forcibly bitten by vampires, but most of them had spoken of the incident only in vague terms.
Mr. Drake’s eyes turned vibrant blue again, and when he parted his lips, he revealed the sharp tips of his fangs. A rush of heat flowed through her and gathered in the place between her thighs, making her squirm.
His nostrils flared. “Stop that.”
She swallowed thickly. “I am not doing anything.”
He closed his eyes and lowered his face until his cheek was pressed against hers.
“The scent of your desire is making it difficult to concentrate.” His icy skin made her shiver.
His being able to smell how she was feeling made her want to cover her face with her hands.
It was horrifying and exciting at the same time.
She kept imagining how it would feel to have his fangs pierce her flesh.
How would she keep herself from screaming and alerting the guards?
She bit the inside of her cheek. Harming herself was better than being caught.
Then his ice-cold lips touched her skin, and her knees went weak. She clenched the slippery fabric of his shirt to keep from collapsing into a heap. “Please.” The tension was unbearable.
He growled, a sound that raised the hairs on her arms, and then whispered, “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to say that.”
*
Jonathan had fully intended to take the smallest amount of Felicity’s blood required to dim the intensity of her scent, but the moment her blood filled his mouth, he was lost. She tasted of freshly pressed cherries and honey squeezed directly from the comb.
Her blood slid down his throat, warming him from the inside out.
He could almost feel it pulsing through his veins, chasing away the aches and pains that had accumulated over the past few weeks.
She moaned and twisted in his arms, so much more pliant than she’d been before.
With the crucifix removed and the codex within his reach, he was tempted to drain her, Marcus’s orders be damned, but she was far too entertaining to be allowed to die so easily.
He forced himself to withdraw, then ran his tongue along the wounds he’d made until they healed.
He kept her soft, limp body pressed against him until she recovered enough that she began to stir.
She looped her arms around his neck. “That was incredible.”
He grinned, then realized his mistake as she slipped the crucifix back over his head. It settled into place and vanished beneath his clothing. He grabbed for it, but once again, his hands passed through the object.
“Damn it, woman!”
She finished restoring her blouse and hair to their former proper state and folded her hands together at her waist, the picture of a proper lady.
Nothing like the woman who had moaned and thrashed in his arms. He allowed himself a moment to imagine how much better she would have tasted if he had thrust his cock inside her at the same time as he had drained her.
The more powerful the sensations elicited in the donor, the more intense the experience.
She’d been terrified, yet her blood had been the most delicious liquid he had ever consumed.
“What now?” she asked. She looked so serious that he almost made another quip when he caught a whiff of something that made him step closer and peer at her lips.
She stiffened. “I told you not to—”
“The crucifix wouldn’t let me bite you again if I wanted to,” he said impatiently.
There was something wrong with her mouth.
He could detect a faint scent of blood, which should have faded when he had licked all traces of it from her skin.
He brought his nose closer to her face and sniffed until he located the source.
The muscles in his shoulders tightened. She had bitten the inside of her cheeks. Perhaps she had not been as lost to pleasure as he had thought. His gut twisted. “You’re wounded.”
“It’s nothing.”
Of course she would say that. He could have let it go, but the scent was a distraction he could not afford.
So he brought his right index finger to his mouth, coated it in his saliva, then shoved it between her lips.
Her eyes widened, and she tried to pull away, but he grasped the back of her neck and rubbed his finger along the ragged flesh.
As soon as it was smooth, he stepped away.
She slapped a hand over her lips, frowning fiercely.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “I had to do it.”
He would have much preferred to transmit his saliva to her wounds via his own mouth, but he suspected that would have resulted in him getting a knee to the crotch. Biting her had been bad enough. He would not make the mistake of kissing her again.
Her cheek bulged as she probed with her tongue.
He crossed his arms. “What does the vampire you’re searching for look like?”
Felicity licked her lips. “She was very tall, with long, black hair and sharp features. She wore a black dress and a black lace veil.”
The image of Marguerite appeared in his mind. She’d taken to wearing black in the months before she’d vanished. He cleared his throat. “Anything else?”
“She carried an ebony cane topped with a golden dog’s head. One of the dog’s ears was chipped.”
It was not terribly helpful, but if that was the best she could do, he would have to manage. There were a few places in the city they could check where vampires gathered to show off their human concubines.
“Where do we go first?” she asked.
“Nowhere.” He gestured to the window and the sky, which was a deep shade of red. “Unless you want your protector to turn to ash.”
“Tomorrow, then.”
He grasped her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed her knuckles. “I look forward to it.”