Chapter Nineteen
When Chloe awakened, she was lying in a bed, covered with a down comforter. The room was semi-dark, the curtains over a small window drawn, but a tiny stream of sunlight shown through. It seemed to be a cabin of sorts, rather rough-hewn, but where was she? As her eyes became accustomed to the dim light, something stirred to her right. Turning her head, she saw Gavin sitting in a chair by the small table, watching her.
Memories flooded her. The abduction, the near-rape, the blur that had moved so fast she couldn’t make it out and then, Gavin. Gavin with bloodied fangs.
Her heart raced momentarily and then slowed. Gavin looked perfectly normal. No fangs, no blood. She must have taken a blow to the head or something.
“Where am I?” she asked as she slowly sat up.
“You’re at the Glen Aulin camp in the High Sierras,” he answered, not moving.
Chloe frowned. “How did I get here?”
“After you swooned, I carried you down to the car and then came here. It was the closest place I could find.”
She was about to tell him she didn’t “swoon”, but since she didn’t have any recollection of events, perhaps she had. At any rate, she didn’t feel like arguing.
“How did you know where to find me?”
Gavin picked up the scarf that had been lying on the table. “Once I found this, I followed your trail.”
“My trail? From the way it felt, we were on rocky terrain most of the time. How could you follow a trail? Not that I’m not grateful.”
He hesitated, toying with the scarf. “What is the last memory you have?”
Dear Lord. She couldn’t tell him she thought she saw him with blood-dripping fangs. For sure, he’d take her right down this mountain to the nearest psycho clinic. “I’m not really certain,” she hedged. “I—things just happened so fast. I thought I was going to be gang-raped and then I thought I saw some sort of wild animal attack the bikers and then—and then, I thought I saw you. Well, I mean, I guess I did see you, since you’re here. But I don’t know what could have attacked those men…did you get there in time to see anything?”
Even from where he still sat, she could feel his dark eyes penetrating hers, but he said nothing.
“Did you see what it was?” she asked again. “Was it the dragon in small form? It wasn’t white, but—”
“It was not the dragon,” Gavin said and laid the scarf down. “You saw me.”
“Well, yes. But what was that other thing? The one that moved so fast it was just a blur?”
“That thing was I.”
“But how…” Before Chloe could finish the sentence, Gavin was seated on the bed next to her. Her heart pounded, although whether from surprise or from the sheer closeness of his male presence that overwhelmed her senses she didn’t know. “How did you do that?”
He grimaced and the next thing she knew, he was standing by the foot of the bed.
“I am a vampire.”
He couldn’t have just said that. She must be having an auditory hallucination. Just because she thought she’d seen him with dripping fangs—Geez. Maybe she did need that psycho clinic after all. “What did you say?”
“I said I was a vampire.”
She shook her head to clear it. “There aren’t any vampires—”
His fangs elongated.
Chloe drew in a deep breath. “Ah…”
With a snap, they retracted and he was sitting in the chair again, looking at her solemnly. “You need not fear me, Miss Whitney. I would never harm you. I know after what you witnessed, you might find that hard to believe, but I have sworn to protect you. I had hoped to keep my identity secret, but you were in danger. I only hope you do not find me overly repulsive now.”
She stared at him while her mind tried to process what he’d said. He wanted to protect her—had protected her by swooping in like that guy from Twilight saving Bella—only Gavin and she, unlike the movies, weren’t in a relationship. “You saved my life. How could I find you repulsive?”
Repulsive? Gavin had come to her rescue because she was in danger, just like a knight of old. It didn’t get much more romantic than that. If anything, it just made the man sexier. Now that she knew his secret, maybe she could lure him into bed with her.
Afraid? Hardly. Dangerous, maybe, but she trusted Gavin completely.
When she had decided to trust him, she didn’t know, but she did.
* * * *
Gavin could hardly believe that Chloe had not started screaming like a banshee. That’s what used to happen before he learned to hide his identity. He would not have blamed her if she’d gotten hysterical, either. The past twenty-four hours had been an ordeal and ended seeing him in full vampire mode.
Instead, she had eyed him with what seemed like desire—a look so hot he felt singed and wondered if he was the one who had gone mad.
He glanced down at her now, sitting beside him—close beside him—on a rock near the waterfall, watching the sunset. She looked calm, but he sensed she was seething with questions. He would try to be as honest as he could.
“It will be dark soon and we can start getting back to the car,” he said and gave her a rueful smile. “I work better at night.”
Chloe looked up at him. “I always wondered why you wore those shades. How do you stand the daylight?”
“Special meds make my skin less sensitive.”
She continued to study him. “How often do you need to…to…drink blood?”
“Not that often anymore. And there’s synthetic blood now. I rarely…do what you saw.” Although had he been purely human, he would have done the same thing to those bastards.
“Were you born a vampire?”
“No.” He waited, sure the next question would come—and it did.
“When—how—what happened?”
“The ‘how’ I am not sure of. I was wounded in a battle, near death. A woman came—I thought to take me to heaven or maybe hell—but then I woke up…as a vampire.”
‘When?”
Gavin hesitated. If he told her he was an Immortal, she would either think he was insane or she really would run screaming from his presence. As much as he wanted to be totally honest with her, he could not. The knights had all been sworn to secrecy.
“It’s been a number of years. But you have nothing to fear,” he said, both to ease whatever doubts she might still have and to change the subject, “I can control my urges.”
Chloe raised an eyebrow. “That I know. You’ve rejected me often enough.”
“What—” he started to say and then caught himself. God’s Blood! He hadn’t meant those urges. “I have not rejected you. I was trying to save you from what I am.”
The other brow went up. “What if I don’t want to be saved?”
He stared at her. “You know what I am. You saw what I am capable of—”
“And you just said you can control that. I’m not asking you to…to turn me, if that’s the right word.”
“Then what are you asking?” Gavin asked before he thought to stop himself. This conversation was going to get him into even deeper trouble.
Chloe stood, tugging at his hand. “Let me show you,” she said.
* * * *
Naked, Gavin was even more magnificent that Chloe had imagined—and her imagination had run wild for weeks now. At first, she had thought he might refuse to follow her back to the cabin—he was still calling her Miss Whitney, for Pete’s sake—but even English resolve had its melting point.
Undressing him was a surprising turn-on. Chloe knew she was no seductress, but running her palms over his marble smooth, sculpted chest brought a sharp intake of breath from him, although he remained stoically mute. She felt his belly muscles contract as she unzipped his pants and slid them—along with her hands—slowly down his thighs. His erection strained against the black, low-cut briefs he wore and she stroked that massive, jutting shaft slowly, teasing by circling a finger around its head.
With a growl that sounded feral, Gavin swung her onto the bed and on her back, in one fell swoop managing to undo the buttons of her shirt at the same time. Cool air assailed her bare breasts and then his large, strong hand covered one of them while his warm breath fanned the other one. He laved the aureole, circling it with his tongue, flicking over the nipple with his tongue, while he rubbed the other hard tip between thumb and forefinger. Chloe gasped and arched her back for more.
But Gavin seemed in no hurry. He left her breast, achy and needy, to trail kisses along her collarbone and up her throat, lingering for a long moment there, letting her anticipate whether a bite would come, but only his lips moved across it lightly. He showered kisses along her jaw and cheek and across her eyelids before descending softly on her mouth. Tugging the length of her body against him, he brushed her lips, slowly sliding his tongue between them, tasting her, exploring her mouth, as one hand roamed leisurely up and down her side from her hip to her ribs, only slightly grazing the underside of her breast just enough to drive her nearly insane with desire. Chloe squirmed against him, wanting more.
She thought she heard him chuckle as he continued his slow, exquisite torture, his hand now gliding down, undoing her jeans, sliding inside her panties to cup her mound and knead gently, not quite giving the quivering little nub there the pressure she wanted. She lifted her hips to help him rid her of her jeans and wrapped her leg around his muscular thigh, striving for more friction there.
“Not so fast,” he murmured, his mouth trailing down her throat again. He lingered again, this time his tongue licking the pulsing artery. Chloe felt the slight scrap of his tooth and leaned her head back, giving him access, not caring if took her blood. She wanted all of him that she could get. But he moved on. Before she could feel disappointed, his mouth covered her breast and he drew deep on her nipple and began to suckle. Chloe whimpered in sheer ecstasy as the delicate nerve endings came to life under the alternating pressure—light and easy, strong and demanding, light and easy—that he was masterfully using. The fingers of the hand that had been palming her now delved deep inside her dripping core while Gavin’s thumb circled the now-throbbing, hard bud of her center, rubbing it relentlessly, causing the tension to build until she writhed beneath his touch, wanting—needing—more…and then her body shattered like a thousand pieces of fragile china.
Gavin moved over her, spreading her legs with his thighs and glided inside her, making all her senses come together once again. The thick fullness of him filled her as he pulled back and entered her again. And again. Chloe felt his tip press against her womb each time with each thrust. She wrapped her legs around him, encouraging him to speed up the agonizingly slow pace he’d taken. Lord, how much stamina and control did a vampire have, anyway? Her skin was sizzling, heat pooling low in her belly, threatening to erupt into a blazing inferno and yet, Gavin kept up his easy, steady pace, his dark eyes never leaving her face, his hands inflaming her tight nipples as he kneaded her breasts. Her blood was on fire. Chloe tossed her head feverishly on the pillow, her body undulating wildly beyond her control. She felt Gavin lift her buttocks, giving her much more welcome depth and pressure. Sparks flew around them as Gavin ground into her, hard and demanding now, and the volcano exploded.
Chloe lay gasping for air, Gavin beside her, a leg and arm protectively draped over her side. “Oh, my God.”
‘Shhhh,” he whispered and rose up to lean over her. Dipping his head, he licked her throat. Chloe felt a sharp sting and then, complete, blissful nothingness.
* * * *
Lucifer parked his motorcycle and walked over to the tree where the broken bodies of the two bikers lay slumped and cursed. Not that cursing helped him, but by his own horns, what had gone wrong?
Beside him, Sigurd, in his small form, snorted. “These were the men you hired?”
“Careful, dragon. I don’t take insults lightly.”
“Just asking. Balor won’t be happy.”
Lucifer’s eyes flashed red. “I’m not ‘happy’ either.” Looking around the campsite, noting the ashes of a small fire and a pup-tent still pitched, he walked over to where the stake and chain lay on the ground. Crouching down, he picked up the manacle. The metal was twisted. Someone—or something—had pried it open and not used a key.
“The damn vampire tracked her here.”
Sigurd blew a puff of smoke. “I can take of him.”
“Debatable,” Lucifer said. “He’s not human, remember? Anyhow, Balor needs him alive for now. So far, Landon has been able to follow the GPS. When the platter is found, you’ll have your chance.” He rose, scanning the area again. “There were three of them. I wonder…” He broke off as he spotted some clothing near a bush. He walked over, stopping so abruptly that Sigurd nearly bumped into him. Scarface’s shredded body lay crumpled beside the trail.
“That’s as good a job as I could have done,” Sigurd said, tilting his large head for a better angle, “only there’s no blood.”
“He’s been drained, stupid.”
The dragon snarled, more smoke emerging from his nostrils.
“Don’t even think to incinerate me, dude. You won’t win.”
Sigurd lifted his head with distain. “I would not think to start in a fire in these dry conditions. The mountains provide a good lair. I have some respect for the environment, you know.”
Lucifer laughed. “Respect? What do you know about respect?”
“Probably more than you do.” He poked the lifeless body with a claw. “I thought vampires didn’t kill victims anymore.”
Lucifer sobered. “You’re right. There hasn’t been a vampire killing in centuries. I wonder why he didn’t kill Scarface like the others.”
“Maybe he was avenging his girlfriend.”
“His girlfriend? They may be having sex, but that’s no big thing. Not enough to draw attention to himself, anyway.”
“If he cared for the woman, he might.”
Lucifer started to laugh again. “What the hell do you know about human relationships anyway?”
Sigurd looked smug. “I would protect Morgan.”
“Morgan? The slut?”
His scales rattled, the ones on his neck cresting to spear points. “Do not call her that.”
“Dude. Morgan looks out after Morgan. She’s hardly the ‘damsel in distress’ type. Where do you think you are? Camelot?”
Sigurd’s scales rattled again. “Maybe that wasn’t such a bad time. I was there when knights defended their lady’s honor.”
“So was I. What…” Lucifer didn’t finish his sentence, instead looking down at the bloodless body. This was just the kind of thing one of Arthur’s damn knights would do. Had any of them survived Camlann? He frowned as he recalled Balor telling him Lancelot had. And Lancelot had found the spear.
If Lancelot had survived, others may have as well. There had been rumors that one knight, in particular, had never been found.
Lucifer looked up, his eyes glowing red. He knew exactly who the vampire was.
Revenge would be sweet. It had been a long, long time coming.