Straddling me again, Raphael waved the vial under my nose. I choked on the scent-it smelt bitter and unlike normal donor blood. Then, he tipped it to my lips.

I closed my eyes and sipped at the blood. It tasted just as nasty as it smelt, but I drank until the vial was empty. If it would help me obtain control, I had to at least try.

"That's it." He dropped his hand. "Let it soak into your veins."*

85.

His heady tone, and the strange blood, went straight to my c.o.c.k.

I writhed underneath him, trying to adjust the ache from my hard shaft.

He stroked my cheek again. A fury of energy struck me all at once. "It gets worse with every pa.s.sing second. You must let yourself go," he whispered.

I shook my head.

"I can't do it."

"Oh, yes, you will." His heated breath blew past my ear. "You will give me your spirit.

It is the only way for you to gain control."

I felt him tug at my jeans, releasing my rigid c.o.c.k. I let out a breath of both relief and annoyance. Then, he sat up and pulled out a small tube of lube from his pocket. After dabbing some on his fingers, he gripped my length and I could barely hold on with the swathe of painful pleasure.

"I haven't seen such uncontrollable energies in over a century." He kissed my lower lip and I unconsciously pressed my lips to his.

The burn seared through my face from his kiss, travelled down through my neck and through my arms. I grabbed hold of his sides, his soft silk shirt bowed to my will, and pulled him closer until we were one.

He traced his left hand up my stomach sending gooseb.u.mps up my arms while he pa.s.sionately stroked my hard, painful c.o.c.k in his other hand. I couldn't take much more.

Yes! I thought, knowing he could hear it.

Raphael twitched as my fingernails dug into his skin. He moved his lips down, kissing every part of my left cheek until he reached my neck. I felt his fangs sc.r.a.pe my collar before he lifted his head.

"Drink, Malachi."

I opened my eyes to see his neck tipped and bared for me. At his powerful command, I braced my fangs along his skin and bit down hard. Delicious blood seeped onto my tongue.

Its flavour crept into my mouth, sweet and luxurious like the finest chocolate.

Sweet? That's right, he did say he was part warlock.

He continued to stroke my hardened length in his tight fist. My violent trembling had ceased, but the fire within raged on.

After one more drop, I broke away and laid my head on the back of the couch.

"f.u.c.k me," he whispered in my ear.*

86.

My heart lodged in my throat. "What?"

"I'll tell you now," he said as he let go of my hard shaft and wrenched at his slacks. "I haven't asked anyone in decades. Dante was the last."

Dante... I huffed in disbelief. "Is that so?"

"Yes."

I focused on the filthy stucco ceiling above. I felt his rigid c.o.c.k graze against mine. The thought sent a crude frenzy rushing through my b.a.l.l.s.

Raphael buried his face in my neck, hiding himself from me. He trailed a hand in my shirt, to my chest where he pinched and tugged at my nipple.

"Please," he breathed.

"No." I pushed him away. He flinched as his feet touched the floor. Two alien-like black dots for eyes replaced his l.u.s.ty gaze, as if nothing was there. I gasped in disbelief.

Raphael wiggled his jeans away from his hips. They bunched up around his ankles and made a thud as they slipped from his feet. He straddled my legs once more.

"Shh. Don't be frightened, young one." He pinned me and slid his hand across my face.

"It's only because of your vigour that my eyes are like this."

I stared into those two eyes, unable to look away. "W-what are you?" The words escaped my tongue faster than I could stop them.

"I am vampir and warlock, same as you. It's my abilities that frighten you, but don't worry, they're more for your benefit than mine."

He angled himself to direct my rigid length close to his a.s.s. I felt him bear down around the head of my c.o.c.k and, on instinct, I thrust up into him. He let out a gasp, wrapped his arms around my shoulders, and pressed his forehead into mine.

I still couldn't look away from those eyes. The tingling inside me flickered hot as his sultry tightness contracted around my c.o.c.k. He rocked slow, leading the motion and I followed, thrusting deeper. So much deeper. I sc.r.a.ped my nails across his bare skin under the silk shirt. I wanted it off. I wanted it all off.

I thumbed across a tiny b.u.t.ton. A tremble ran through his arms as he looked down at my wandering hand. He straightened his spine and unb.u.t.toned his shirt, letting the fabric roll gently down his shoulders. I drank in his pinkish colour, his muscular build, and the trickle of blood drying on his collar from the wound I'd made.*

87.

A cloud seemed to have swarmed over my vision. Everything went foggy, including him. I blinked in an attempt to ward it away, but it grew hazier. I returned my gaze to his, dark and eerie, the black orbs never breaking away.

"Yes, Malachi." The words were formed through a growl. "Do you feel it?"

I felt something. All the spirit, all the vigour inside me, easing. Maybe it was him, whatever he did, to cause me to release myself. The burn within my skin died, but my vision never improved. It left me with nothing but the need for climax.

"Your energy is wonderful," Raphael said l.u.s.tfully.

I blinked and could see his smile under the blackness. Such a smile from handsome pink lips that I couldn't help but kiss. I brushed my lips against his, and he returned my pa.s.sion, impaling himself until I was b.a.l.l.s deep.

A wanton moan escaped, it took a moment to realise I was making such noises. He matched my needful grunts with his own, pushing off faster. His muscles tightened, his fingers gripped my skin.

"M-my energy..." I breathed.

"Our energy, Malachi. It's flowing perfectly between us."

"I-I need to-"

He pressed a finger to my lips, stopping me mid-sentence. "Just a little longer." He continued to rock and kissed me again.

I grasped onto his sides and thrust deeper. He moaned loudly as I swept past that tender spot. Each and every second that his moans filtered through the silence made my c.o.c.k pulse and twitch with need. I couldn't hold out much longer. With another thrust, tingles swept through my b.a.l.l.s and I came into his tight a.s.s.

The fog faded and I blinked to study his eyes. They were their normal gorgeous blue again.

"Wonderful. Good job." A wretched smile spread across his lips.

As he pulled away from me, I marvelled at his rigid, quivering length. But something else caught my attention. "You're a-"

"Eunuch?" he finished. "Yes. I was taken from my family centuries ago by slave traders.

To be castrated was a requirement for survival."*

88.

I lowered my head, feeling the last twinge of rowdy energy leave my body. Strangely, I felt sleepier, more calm and relaxed now than I ever had before, even with Dante. I craved to know more about Raphael.

"Why was it a requirement?"

Raphael reached for his slacks. He pulled them over his legs and secured them around his waist, then sat down next to me. "My master rescued me from slavery and took me to a church, where I was a castrato for many years. I sang in the evening choir." He smiled faintly. "But it's quite late for stories. You should sleep."

The couch felt comfortable. The bed looked even more appealing. But tired and still dazed, I laid back on the couch, folding myself into a ball with my hands underneath my head.

Raphael leaned over me. He placed a gentle kiss upon my forehead, and whispered with certainty, "I will have you again, young Malachi. Sweet dreams."*

89.

Chapter Twelve.

What Little's Left The warmth of the comforter, and the handsome etchings on the walls, reminded me of Xavier's mansion. I blinked, focusing on the gothic sconce near the door. This was certainly grander than Raphael's house. Had we moved while I was asleep?

I slipped my fingers around the glossy red sheets. Red? The blankets on Raphael's bed had been black, hadn't they? It couldn't be right. How had I got to Xavier's?

Recalling the night before, I remembered Raphael's dark eyes, how they'd appeared alien and unreal. He'd fed off my energy just like I had fed from Dante. But it had left me drained. How would it have felt if I'd fed from him? Would it have been like death?

And his wanton craving was of bigger concern. He'd seduced me, called out my spirit and had his way with me. All because I'd wanted control. That wasn't control. But exactly what that was, I wasn't sure.

I rolled to my back, staring at the gold patterned ceiling. Nothing seemed real anymore.

My need for energy. Raphael's request. Aurora's training. Dante's love.

Dante. How was it that he was Raphael's mate when he was the one who had found me? He'd protected me-or had tried-and called me his love. Why hadn't I asked Dante before this whole mess began? Sure, I'd been caught in the moment of pa.s.sion, but I should have questioned him.

Great, now I can't stop thinking of him.

"Good evening." The familiar voice, followed by the squeak of the door closing, caught me off guard.

Xavier stood at the end of the bed, his normally dishevelled, dusty brown hair combed back and greased flat upon his head. He wore his usual garb-ironed suit and blood-red tie-and I could imagine polished black loafers.

"What am I doing here?" I asked, voice cracking.

"Raphael brought you here. He has a.s.signed you to military operations," Xavier spoke softly. "We believe this will suit your abilities much better."

I lowered my eyes. "And what about Dante?"*

90.

"Dante?" Xavier tilted his head. "He is to stay in Aurora's care. Although, the last I heard, he was being quite demanding now that Aurora has freed him from the dungeon."

That sounds like him.

"So...what do I do, then?" I struggled to sit up. The sheets rolled down my naked chest and the cool air brushed over my skin. I shivered, wishing I still felt the fire of last night.

Xavier gently sat on the edge of the bed. "You will recover, first. I will not send you to battle until you are well and fed."

"Battle?"