Ancient Blood: Deep Red - Part 12
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Part 12

"I can't. Not looking back."

"If you hadn't, then you wouldn't have been there to guide Adam Lindsay."

"Lindsay would have found his own way. He and his brother are a pain in the a.s.s, but they're a lot like Seraphim: plenty of stubborn guts."

"Speaking of Seraphim, how did he manage to survive?"

"With Nero's approval, the First Father burned Rome for the h.e.l.l of it, and I swore I'd make sure Seraphim burned with it. It was a way of sealing the pact between us. Instead I knocked Seraphim unconscious and stuck him on a ship headed east. I figured it was the very least I could do for Nenet. It was the last decent act I committed until I met Adam Lindsay and helped him and Matthew train to meet the First Father. After so many centuries, I knew how to kill him and who was meant to do it. One Immaculate wasn't strong enough, but the three of us together would be."

Trixie nodded. Everyone knew how the rest of the story went. Vincent, Adam, and Matthew hunted the First Father to his lair where Matthew uncovered a spell written by the Originals. When chanted, it made the sun rise at midnight. Since Originals could not abide sunlight, it destroyed the First Father who was physically restrained by Adam. Afterward, Adam was approached by a group of ancient hybrids wanting to revive the Network. He became the First Father-the network figurehead, and Vincent had worked for him as an agent ever since.

"Why wasn't Seraphim involved in that last fight?" Trixie asked.

"I don't know where he was at the time. Prior to that, we did meet every hundred years-only to fight. Somehow, we never ended up killing each other, though not for the lack of trying. I don't know where he disappeared to between those bouts, and trying to reach him telepathically when he doesn't want to be reached is next to impossible. Still, I sensed he had some purpose, something driving him. I thought it had to do with the First Father, but he's been dead now for over ten years and I can still sense the same purpose in Seraphim. It's been with him for almost two thousand years."

"That's a long time. Maybe he's just nuts, Vincent."

"Oh, he's nuts all right, but this is something real," Vincent said, then spoke telepathically, And Vm starting to wonder if it has to do with this a.s.signment.

What are you suggesting?

That we keep an eye on him.

You think he's holding out on the Network?

Maybe. I don't know. We'll just have to stay aware.

He tugged her closer. "Sorry I'm not what you thought I was."

"What you are now is what counts." Trixie touched her lips to his.

"You're the best, you know that?"

"Yeah," she grinned, "I know, but don't let that stop you from telling me."

"I'd rather show than tell." Vincent rolled her onto her back and kissed her. Trixie purred, entwining her fingers in his hair.

It might have taken two thousand years, but he finally understood the difference between love and l.u.s.t, and he was lucky enough to find a woman who embodied the two.

Once the a.s.signment was over, he'd have to find a way to convince her the ring he'd given her was for real.

Chapter Seven.

Hannah had been enjoying the best sleep she'd had since Sir Edward had stolen her life when an animalistic cry frightened her awake. Beside her Seraphim thrashed and growled like a wolf caught in a trap. Fully understanding the vampire's strength, she feared waking him, yet knew she couldn't leave him alone in an obvious nightmare.

"Seraphim!" She took the risk and shook his shoulder.

His eyes, glistening and red from combined tears and vampiric spirit, took a moment to focus on her.

"It's all right." She edged closer. "You were having a nightmare."

"Yes. I scared you."

She kissed his damp forehead. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Drawing her into his arms, he shook his head. She felt him tremble and tightened her embrace. She found it odd realizing such a powerful creature possessed any vulnerability, but she was learning vampires weren't the supernatural monsters she'd a.s.sumed-at least not all of them.

"Sometimes I dream of my family," Hannah said.

"So do I."

"Has it been long since you've seen them?"

"Very long."

"Where are they?"

"Dead."

She tilted her face to his. "I'm sorry," she whispered against his lips.

His mouth covered hers in a hungry kiss. His day's growth of beard tickled her face and her eyes slipped shut. Hands sliding up his back, she relished the warmth of his embrace and the hardness of the lean chest crushing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as he pressed her onto her back. His tongue battled with hers, and his chest rumbled with a contented growl.

His kisses moved down her throat, between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and covered her belly. Eyes closed, Hannah allowed him to take complete control of her body. Her fingers threaded his thick, wavy hair as his tongue lapped her navel. His lips toyed with her c.l.i.t before he licked it in a slow, steady rhythm that made her writhe with pleasure. He lapped her to three quaking o.r.g.a.s.ms, each one more powerful than the last, before rolling her onto her stomach. Grasping one of her feet in his hands, he stroked her from toes to hip, then repeated his sensual ma.s.sage on her other side. His palms caressed her b.u.t.tocks and slid over her back and ribs. He stroked her from shoulder to elbow on each side. When she felt completely relaxed beneath his gentle motions, his body half covered hers. She felt the warmth of his hair-roughened chest against her back and the weight of his leg over hers. Brushing aside her hair, his lips caressed the back of her neck. She shivered with desire. One of his hands slid beneath her to fondle her c.l.i.t and p.u.s.s.y. She drew a sharp breath of utter pleasure when his thick, velvet-skinned c.o.c.k entered her from behind. As he thrust he continued licking, kissing, and nipping her neck. His teeth slid into her flesh, and she climaxed, moaning and chanting his name. She felt him come deep within her. The guttural sound of excitement rumbling in his throat urged her to one more o.r.g.a.s.m before she lay, spent, beneath his heated body.

Seraphim rolled onto his side, tugging her to his chest. One leg draped over her, one arm holding her close, he nuzzled her neck.

"You're so beautiful," he told her.

She turned in his arms and tilted her face up to his, stroking thick black curls from his forehead. "I wish I'd know you months ago."

"So do I. But we know each other now."

She smiled, stroking his jaw. "Seraphim, I..."

"What?" his voice sounded gentle and his eyes focused solely on her. "Hannah?"

"Nothing." She caressed his face. "No more nightmares?"

His lips tugged upward in the slightest smile, and he kissed her brow. "I hope not."

Hannah closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, wrapped in his arms.

Hannah stood in the hall outside the dining room and gazed at herself in the full length gold-rimmed mirror. Transparent black harem pants, a silver and black beaded belt and matching bra showed her curvaceous body to advantage. She'd painted her finger and toenails black and used red body paint to rim her navel with delicate leaf-shaped lines. Trembling slightly, she touched a hand to one of her dangling black and red earrings. She felt like the first time she'd ever performed, strange considering she'd been dancing since her teens. Knowing Seraphim would be watching excited her. When Sir Edward had ordered her to dance and Seraphim had made it her choice instead, she'd been tempted to accept his protection. Then she'd remembered the expression in his eyes when he'd watched her dance, and she knew she had to perform. Now that she knew him, she could dance just for him, even amidst a room full of people. No matter how the others might watch, she would be his alone, and he would know it.

A maid stepped out of the dining room and motioned for her to enter. Drawing a deep breath, she stepped through the double doors and walked across the carpeted floor. Placing a CD in the player, she stood in the center of the room, waiting for the music to begin, her eyes fixed on Seraphim. His gaze was so penetrating, that she almost forgot to begin dancing when the music started.

She sensed he didn't like the idea of her dancing again-or that she'd chosen to do so after he'd given her the option to refuse. By the end of her performance, he'd change his mind, and then she would dance for him in private.

She had little time to think as she'd chosen two fast songs to engage her audience. She'd learned that vampires loved the sound of a speeding mortal heartbeat and the scent of clean sweat. At least she'd gotten something out of her captivity. Now that she'd met a vampire who attracted her, she at least had some idea of how to seduce him.

Soon she felt carried away by the music as she b.u.mped her hips and shimmied across the floor. Her body heated, muscles warming. The feeling was sensual and invigorating at the same time, and she stole a glance at her audience, pleased to see most of them watched her with glowing vampiric eyes. For the first time, she felt no fear arousing them. Perhaps she was a naive fool, but she felt Seraphim would keep her safe.

She spun as the music slowed, lifting the veil from where it draped her head. She twirled the sheer black fabric, then dropped it as she crossed her legs and bent them, lowering herself to the floor, her eyes fixed on Seraphim's. On her knees before him, she paused as the music stopped, then resumed slow, fluid arm movements when the next song began. The slow tempo was set to a western-sounding love song she'd been tailoring a dance for.

The ch.o.r.eography had been one of her favorites, and suddenly she knew why. It was as if she'd been picturing Seraphim watching her even before she knew him. This song-this dance-truly were for him.

Her back arched, arms stretching toward him, fingers slightly splayed. As she continued her dance, kneeling so close she could see his eyelashes and the tips of his teeth against his lips, she felt l.u.s.t radiating from him-a pure form of energy she knew she could never resist.

Seraphim's attention focused completely on her, his eyes drawing her so deeply into his soul that she forgot about the others in the room. Only he existed. At that moment, she wanted to please him and strove to move with more beauty and supple strength than ever before. She imagined making love with him again and could scarcely wait to return to their room.

As the song ended, she lowered her face to the floor, hands folded behind her, as if offering herself completely to him.

"That was lovely," Sir Edward said, shattering Hannah's illusion that she and Seraphim were alone.

"I think you're being quite selfish with her, Seraphim," said one of the guests, a silver-haired male hybrid.

"So true." Another hybrid-female this time-edged her seat closer to Hannah.

"I don't blame him for wanting exclusivity," said the Baroness. "If he acted first, I guess the rest of us will have to accept it."

"You're interested in mortals?" Sir Edward raised an eyebrow at Trixie.

The Baroness shrugged. "Not as a rule, but I will acknowledge an exceptional specimen of any race."

"And she is a beauty," Vikenti stated. "Your taste is consistent, Seraphim."

Seraphim glared at Vikenti, an audible growl rumbling in his chest, causing looks of surprise to pa.s.s over most of the faces at the table.

"Gentlemen, there's no need to argue. I have many lovely mortals and hybrids in my house."

"I wasn't arguing." Vikenti shrugged. "Just observing. My beautiful wife is more than enough woman for me."

"And don't you forget it, darling." The Baroness cast him a sidelong glance. Vikenti cupped the back of her neck with one hand and drew her to him for a kiss.

Hannah glanced at the couple who were obviously in love. She wondered why they'd bothered coming to a place like Sir Edward's where most of the guests were looking for other partners for amus.e.m.e.nt.

"I don't know about anyone else, but I think I'm quite ready for dessert," the silver haired hybrid continued, grasping the wrist of the maid who was clearing the table.

Seraphim took Hannah's hand and gently tugged her to her feet as he stood. "You're taking her off so soon?" Sir Edward asked.

Seraphim's penetrating eyes fixed on his hybrid host until the man turned away with a nervous smile.

Nothing more was said as he and Hannah left the dining room. She pressed close to his side, her heart throbbing with antic.i.p.ation of lovemaking to come.

Once they were alone in his room, he dragged her into his arms as his mouth devoured hers.

"You're irresistible," he murmured. "And you know it." "I hoped I was to you."

He held her eyes, brushing wisps of hair from her face. His index finger traced the shape of her mouth.

"What did Vikenti mean when he said your taste is consistent?"

"Ignore him. He has a habit of interfering where it's none of his concern."

"I was curious, that's all. I thought he meant you liked my type."

Seraphim sighed and turned away, running a hand through his hair. When he glanced at her, a torn look shone in his eyes.

"Is something wrong between you and him?" she asked.

"You might say that."

"Won't you tell me, even after I told you my darkest secret?"

He stepped closer and placed his hands on her shoulders, his eyes staring into hers. "I can help you with your secret. Mine is over two thousand years old. No one can change or help it. It's long past."

"But it's still with you." She rested her palms against his chest and was surprised by the pounding of his heart. Generally vampires' heartbeats were far slower than mortals. Vikenti obviously goaded him to the very edge of his control, but why?

"We were once rivals for the same woman."

"And?"

"And he married her, but he didn't love her."

"You did?" Hannah felt a twinge of jealousy then scolded herself. She must have been losing her mind!

"Yes, I loved her," he murmured. "She was a slave dancer from Egypt, which is why he probably said my taste is consistent."

"I see." This time Hannah's heart pounded with combined hurt, anger, and sympathy. For some reason, she hated the thought of Seraphim loving another woman, but she felt sorry for the sadness her loss seemed to cause. "I'm like her. That's why you've been interested. I understand."

"No." Seraphim reached for her, but she sat on the bed, feeling a little sick inside. G.o.d, how could she have been such a naive fool after all she'd gone through!

"Hannah, you're as different from her as night is to day. You're light, she was dark. Her voice was soft, yours is husky."

"Who are you trying to convince?"

He held her eyes. "I don't have to convince anyone of anything."

"Oh no?"