Chapter 6
Autumn
“Autumn.” Will wakes me, shaking my shoulder.
I sit up and look around. The lights are dim. The basement windows, high up on the wall, show no light whatsoever.
“What is it?” I ask. “What time is it?”
“Just after midnight. There’s an emergency.”
I quickly swing my legs over the side of the bed, then stand, instantly awake. “What happened?”
“It’s Xander.” Will takes my hand and leads me through the office, then into the hallway. The cool, polished cement floor sends goosebumps up my bare legs. “He needs your help.”
“Yes. Of course. How can I—?”
The words get choked to nothing in my throat when I catch sight of the pitiful man slumped against the wall.
“Xander!” I cry, dropping to my knees beside him. His shirt is torn half-off. His eyes are slits, mostly closed but not entirely. There’s blood on his clothing, as well as some deep, nasty gashes over his torso, oozing more blood. The coppery-rotten tang of it fills the air. I have to stifle a gag.
Xander’s dark blond hair looks darker against his pale skin. His brows are furrowed, his mouth tightly closed. The muscles of his shoulders, bare where his shirt has been torn away, appear bunched with tension. I imagine that moving any part of himself, in any way, would mean pure agony.
“Xander?” I whisper. “I’m here. What do you need?”
He doesn’t respond. His eyelids don’t even flicker.
Looking up at Will, I say, “What happened to him?”
“I don’t know.” Will’s face is grim, his mouth a straight line. “He’s out of it. But he needs blood. And the animal blood we have in the refrigerator won’t do.”
“Of course,” I say in a rush. I understand exactly what he’s asking of me. “Um, should I hold my arm in front of him, or—”
Just as I hold my arm out to show what I mean, Xander’s hand shoots up and he grabs my wrist. He doesn’t bring it to his mouth, but yanks it across his body…which puts my neck near his face.
He bites down on the soft part of my neck beneath my ear. It happens so fast, my yelp of surprise gets strangled in my throat. Sharp teeth, rasping tongue. Deep, painful pulls of my blood. I gasp at the pain.
Will jolts forward. “Are you okay? He’s not himself right now, Autumn—he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I can stop him if you need me to.”
“No,” I whisper, afraid to move my head. The rhythmic pull of my blood leaving my body is eerie, but once I relax into it, the pain fades to a dull throb. “I was just surprised.”
“I’ll be right back.” From the corner of my eye, I see him leave. Seconds later, he’s back, a blanket in his arms. He arranges it on the floor and says, “You can kneel on this, love.”
“I’m—I’m afraid to move,” I say. If I do, those teeth could tear.
Will leans over, putting his hands in my hair to move it aside. A deep, rumbling growl comes from Xander’s throat, reverberating through my body.
“Relax, frerte,” Will says. “I’m not taking her from you.”
Xander growls again. He’s like a dog with a bone…and I am the bone. Shit. This is crazy.
What’s crazier is that there’s nothing gentle about the way he’s sucking on my neck.
It feels different from the sexy, slow pulls when the men bit me before.
Then, I barely noticed they were feeding from me; I only felt the bite and the orgasm.
Maybe because we’re not fucking, I feel it differently?
“Xander,” Will says, “you’re hurting her. This position is uncomfortable for Autumn.”
Xander’s growl is less antagonistic this time. I guess his strength is returning, because he wraps his arms around me and pulls me over so I’m straddling him. The movement means he has to let go of my neck, but as soon as I’m in place, he strikes again, fangs at my throat.
“Um…” I slide my gaze over to Will.
“It’s all right, love,” he says. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t take too much.”
That actually wasn’t my concern. My concern is more about how my pussy is pressed right up against a growing ridge in Xander’s jeans, and as he drinks, he’s rocking me back and forth.
Tiny, nearly imperceptible movements. Not enough to complain about.
But the feelings are definitely there. And building.
Xander adjusts his arms, sliding a hand down to cup my ass.
His boner presses against me and he pulls me harder down onto his lap.
The sucking pull against my neck as he drinks should be disturbing or gross, but instead, it’s erotic.
The rhythm and speed reminds me of sex. And the way he holds me against him, the way he’s using me—it reminds me of my first night with him and Will, being clutched between them.
Do not get turned on by this asshole, Autumn. Do not.
Shit. I’m getting turned on.
No. I won’t allow it. Arousal for me leads to feelings, and I can’t do that.
I must construct a brick wall around my heart.
He doesn’t want me. He needs food. That’s all this is.
Without my blood, he will die. His boner means nothing.
It’s like how my nipples get hard when it’s cold sometimes. It’s purely physiological, that’s it.
But then he pulls back from my throat and murmurs, “Autumn,” and I feel the brick wall begin to crumble.
He’s out of it. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. He has emphasized time and time again, while in his right mind, that he doesn’t want anything to do with me.
“Autumn,” he whispers again. “Missed you.”
And then his fangs are in my throat once more.
Fuck. I missed him, too. Why is he doing this to me? And what about consent? Each movement sparks a new flame of pleasure—at least on my end. I consent to this. But does Xander?
“Will,” I whisper. “Is this okay?”
“That depends.” He grabs a lock of my hair and twirls it around his fingers. “Is it okay with you?”
“Yes. It’s okay. But Xander isn’t himself, you even said…”
“I’m myself enough for this,” Xander says, reaching to his waistband and roughly shoving down his jeans.
The movement jostles me, causing some pain in my neck.
“Ow,” I say.
“Sorry, sorry,” Xander murmurs, licking over the wound gently before sucking again. He pulls away again to say, “I consent. Do you?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Then come on my cock, sweet mouse.”
Sweet mouse. Not filthy. Not toy. And he missed me.
Can I do this?
Another pull of blood. Xander groans softly against my neck, his hands on my waist and ass. Will holds my hair in his hand like a leash, and fuck if the mental image that sparks doesn’t turn me on more.
“Do you want this?” Will asks.
When Xander rocks his hips, I give in to the pleasurable sparks it creates within me.
“Yes,” I whisper, encompassed by the truth of it. “I want this.”
I don’t try to push his dick inside of me.
Instead, I ride over the top of it, still wearing my panties, my clit hitting the base with every undulation of my hips.
This is good. Amazingly good. The fabric of my underwear does nothing to dull the friction—in fact, I think it heightens it.
Will wraps my hair around his fist, holding my head back, my throat extended for Xander’s fangs.
Xander brings one of his hands up and under the oversized t-shirt I’m wearing. He cups a breast, plucking at the nipple. Unable to think, unable to do anything else but give in to this all-consuming need, I rock against him harder, faster.
Without warning, my orgasm explodes through me. I cry out and Will lowers his head to mine, swallowing my cries with a probing kiss. Xander sucks hard at my neck and groans, his grip on my hip and breast bruisingly tight. Cradled by my core, his dick pulses with release.
Will lets go of my hair, and Xander gives my neck one last lick before pulling his mouth away. Exhausted, I slump forward against his shoulder, breathing hard.
We just did that. I feel woozy, light. Blood loss? The powerful orgasm? I don’t know what it is. I lift my head to look at Xander’s chest, worried that I’m putting too much pressure on his wounds.
They’re gone. My gaze travels upward to his face. He’s less pale. A smear of blood decorates the corner of his lips. His eyes focus on me briefly before the pupils dilate and he doesn’t seem to see me, or anything at all.
“Xander?” I say, squeezing my legs around his to get his attention.
“He’s passing out,” Will says. “It’s expected, don’t worry.”
“Amant,” Xander whispers, before his eyes close again.
Will
I lift Autumn from Xander’s lap. She seems unsteady, so I hold an arm around her waist, taking most of her weight. I lead her to the living room and help her onto the sofa. I go back to retrieve the blanket she’d been kneeling on before that wanker put her on his dick.
When getting the blanket, I give his leg a sharp kick. He moans, unconscious.
Convenient. Woke up long enough to shoot his load all over his own lap.
I return to Autumn’s side and tuck the blanket around her legs. “I’ll get you some water and a snack.”
“Not hungry,” she murmurs, blinking up at me. Beautiful hazel eyes. I could lose myself in them.
“Water and a snack,” I repeat. She doesn’t have to eat. I simply want her to have the option.
I’d rather cook her a meal, but I’m torn between two needs. One, staying at her side. Two, soothing the rage within me by preparing food. I satisfy myself by slicing fruit and cheese and arranging them on a platter. I bring them to her with a glass of water.
“Thank you,” she says, gulping from the glass.
The wounds on her neck are livid, a brutal red from Xander’s bite. I had a part to play in all this. I could have let her sleep. He likely would’ve healed on his own…eventually. Instead, I placed my little girl in harm’s way.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the sofa next to her. I’m ready to jump up if she needs anything else.
“Tired. My neck hurts a little. And I’m worried about Xander. Will he be okay?”
“Don’t worry about him. He’ll be up in no time.” Unless I stake him. Which is tempting.
“He seemed really out of it.”
“He was.”
She glances at me from the corner of her eye while she nibbles a peach slice. “He said some things.”
I wince. I know what he said.
“He told me he missed me. And at the end, he didn’t say Autumn,” she says, her voice quiet. “He said amant.”
He did. I could drain him for it. After all of his protests… I won’t lie to her, but maybe I can create doubt. “Are you certain?”
She gives me a dirty look. “I thought you were the one with the oooh-super-duper-special vampire hearing.”
“Fine.” The syllable is clipped. “You heard him right. But he was wrong. I care for you, Autumn. Deeply. But you cannot be our amant.”
“Why not? Won’t it make you more powerful so you don’t have to be afraid of this Gaius person?”
Elisabeth’s blood, spilled over the sheets, staining our mouths.
The sick, sweet smell hanging in the air like a mist. Her lovely, intelligent brown eyes, staring blankly at a world beyond ours.
In my memory, Elisabeth’s naked form warps and shifts.
It’s replaced with Autumn’s. Elisabeth’s lifeless brown eyes transform to hazel.
I see now why Xander was so insistent we send Autumn away.
He saw this happening before I did.
“Will?” Autumn says, her voice questioning.
I have to tell her. I don’t want her to be afraid, but I can’t let her believe she’s safe if we carry forward. Tone flat, I say, “You can’t be our amant because we killed our last one.”