Chapter 11
Max
It was a dirty trick—not just the begging, which I had no defenses for, but calling me “Sir,” reminding me I could deny him nothing.
Such a devilish little pet.
I can’t wait to make him mine.
Part of me wanted to insist we at least delay fully turning him until the following night—so Damon could approach the decision with a clear head—but my patience was gone, not least of all because it would keep him safe from whoever might be on our trail.
“Humans will no longer be a threat to you…” I murmured, sliding my hands over his chest and abdomen, openly admiring my soon-to-be companion.
“Where I come from, it’s believed both garlic and light can kill us, and only one of those is true.
In Europe, they swear silver or crosses repel us—superstitions, naturally—or that a stake to the heart defeats us.
Unfortunately for them, our hearts only beat when the blood of a kill runs through our veins, and we heal almost instantaneously.
Decapitation followed by burning the body would be a more successful method, but humans would first need to get close enough to deliver true death.
That would only happen if they discovered where we slept during the day. ”
Damon sharply inhaled, his hand stilling in my hair. “You were sleeping in that room at the end of the hall.”
I nodded solemnly, not wanting any more secrets between us. “Indeed. I couldn’t risk you rising before the sun set and seeing me in that state. It is the sleep of the dead.”
He quietly considered for a moment before replying, “I awakened before sunset tonight, and when I went outside, the sun hurt where it touched me…”
So it has already begun.
I swallowed thickly, forcing down the guilt I could feel rising like bile, determined to take him at his word that he wanted this. “The sun is our greatest enemy, yes.”
Aside from our fellow monsters…
Damon reached over his head, grabbing a coil of rope hanging on a hook before rolling his hips, rubbing the evidence of his desire against me. “I’m already nocturnal,” he murmured. “And I don’t fear anyone when I’m with you.”
The pure trust in his expression was almost too much to bear, but I knew this man well enough to understand he would not agree to anything he didn’t want to do.
Like when he initially turned down my proposal of courtship.
So cute.
“I knew you were mine before I saw you,” I blurted out, grinning at his confusion. “For years, I felt a pull in my chest—coaxing me onward—and it finally grew so insistent, I could no longer ignore it. I left San Francisco to see where it led, and it led me to you. We are meant to be.”
“Oh.” He blinked rapidly, seemingly more overwhelmed by this than learning of my true nature. “So that’s why you called me your mate.”
Oops.
“I did not intend to say that out loud,” I chuckled at my own expense. “Not yet at least. I was trying to be a civilized gentleman in your presence.”
Damon scoffed. “We’ve already established that you’re not a gentleman. I can only imagine the filthy thoughts running through your head in my presence.”
Time for more confessions.
Fitting, given our religious surroundings…
“I can read humans’ minds,” I hesitantly began. When his eyes widened, I hurriedly added, "However, aside from picking up a stray thought here and there, I have stayed out of your head—out of respect. I also never used my compulsion powers on you except to keep you asleep during the day.”
It took an incredible amount of self-control to continue respecting my mate’s privacy, as his current expression was unreadable. I feared the worst, but honesty was best, as he would need to understand these powers if he was to enter my world.
I wonder if he’ll develop the same powers as me…
His sigh was resigned, although he offered me a soft smile. “You possessing the power to bend others to your will certainly explains a few things. Mattie behaved as if she’d never met you—and barely seemed to know me—when the marshal arrived at the scene of the crime…”
I closed my eyes against the reality of what I’d done. Of all the doves, Mattie would never have allowed Damon to be taken quietly, and by silencing her, I’d doomed him to his fate.
He resumed his caresses. “I may not be a mind reader but I can hear you blaming yourself for what happened. Please don’t.
If Mattie had spoken up, she may have been hanged as well.
” He was quiet for a moment before softly huffing a laugh.
“I assume that’s why you compelled her—because of how overly protective she was toward me? ”
I grimaced but met his gaze. “Yes… but mostly because she knew what I was, thanks to her Irish heritage. I couldn’t allow her to scare you away from me before—”
“Before I got to know you,” he effortlessly followed my anguished thoughts. “Before I had the chance to see what a good man you are.”
I had to laugh at that. “Some may consider your definition of good questionable, pet.”
Damon grinned, his smile as luminous as the moonlight infiltrating our hideout.
“The way I see it, you simply used the weapons at your disposal for survival. That’s all any of us are trying to do out here, Max—live.
” His gorgeous face fell. “I should know… I’ve been acquainted with death since the day I was born. ”
I could say the same.
As if he could read my thoughts, Damon gazed at me sympathetically. “Pearl was the closest thing to family I had left, but now that she’s gone, perhaps we could be a family?”
The sob that came out of me was unprecedented, and I abruptly released him to slap a hand over my mouth, horrified at my reaction.
While I instinctively knew the pull I’d been feeling was leading me to my mate, and that vampires occasionally formed “nests” of chosen family, I hadn’t fully considered that he could be that for me.
He can replace what I’ve lost…
Damon stared down at me a moment, then slid his leg off my shoulder and removed his hat, duster, and what remained of his shirt before tossing it all aside. Then, he sank to the floor to kneel in front of me, prying my hand from my face and placing it over his heart.
We remained like that for several minutes, and I allowed his steady heartbeat to calm me, all while acknowledging this would be the last night I would get to hear it with such purity.
“You’ve been alone so long, Max…” he finally murmured. “Let me be your family—your companion. Please…”
Yes.
That’s all I’ve ever wanted.
“I would be honored to make you my companion,” I replied as he helped me remove my clothing above the waist. Glancing down at the dried blood covering my hands and wrists, I frowned. “Perhaps I should wash up first. There was a stream outside—”
“No!” he barked, his vehemence shocking me into silence. “I want you to make me yours while covered in the blood of those who tried to take me from you. I want them to feel our defiance from beyond the grave.”
What have I done to deserve such perfection?
“Very well,” I purred, roughly pulling him into my lap so he straddled me. “Since you asked so nicely…”
Like the obedient pet he was—only for me—Damon swept his long hair out of the way and tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck to my hungry gaze.
Trusting me completely.
“Any last words as a mere mortal?” I teased, lightly running my lips and teeth over his carotid artery, just as I had our first night together.
“Don’t go easy on me,” he muttered, bracing his hands on my shoulders.
I huffed as my fangs extended again, willing to provide a little pain but knowing I’d prefer to focus on my mate’s pleasure during the process.
Only for him.
Carotid came from the Greek word karoun, which meant “plunge into sleep,” after the belief that compression of the artery resulted in unconsciousness. I couldn’t say if that was true, as I usually compelled my victims into a stupor as I fed.
But not this time.
I knew Damon wanted to experience his transition to the fullest. It was this zest for life that I tasted as my fangs penetrated his neck—tart, but lightly sweet, like the kalamansi lime back home.
“Max…” he gasped, digging his fingers into my skin. “Harder.”
As you wish.
With a growl, I grabbed his luxurious hair with one hand, tightening my grip as I bit down. When that earned me a wanton moan, I snuck my other hand to his lower back, pressing his body to me as I fed.
Citrus… leather…
Mine.
“Oh, God!” he groaned, thrusting in my lap, rocking his hardness over mine. “Sweet Mother of… Goddamn…”
I chuckled against his skin, my gaze drifting to the cracked and molding wooden cross collecting cobwebs at the far end of the church, relishing the blasphemy we were already bringing to this holy space.
That altar looks nice and sturdy…
“Please, Max.” Damon’s irresistible begging brought me back to the delicious task at hand. “I need to taste you as well.”
This was the part I was both craving and dreading.
Craving, because an eternity with my mate was the closest I would get to the spiritual afterlife I’d been raised to believe in.
Dreading because the only other time I’d been involved in such a ritual was when I was turned—violently and without consent—when my life was taken from me in countless ways.
This is different, Max.
I pulled back with a begrudging but contented sigh, relishing the taste of Damon on my tongue, the warmth of him in my veins, allowing his essence to flow through me in preparation for the next step.
The only reason I knew how the process worked was because of how painfully aware I’d been during my transition.
My arms and legs had been broken as punishment for fighting back, leaving me helpless as my attacker forced blood down my throat while he fed from me.
I hadn’t known at the time I would survive, so I’d kept my gaze locked on my family’s hut as it burned to the ground with my parents’ and sister’s corpses inside, fully believing I was about to be reunited with them in the next world.