Dark Possession Page 7

  The better to persuade, coerce, and manipulate.

  “I am not here to invade,” she said softly, though her voice carried easily on the wind. “I am here to reach an understanding with your people. Am I speaking to the leaders?”

  “What kind of understanding can we possibly reach?” the female snarled, not answering her question, while the male stayed silent.

  She was obviously the mouthpiece for this straggling band of refugees.

  “You’ve made your position clear when you assassinated our Elders.”

  “That was my mother, Queen Gaia,” Ashlu clarified. “And she was ‘assassinated’ right back. I, by contrast, do not seek to conquer the world by eradicating everyone powerful within it. I only wish to expand and rule my empire with fairness. I desire peace among the Kinds.”

  “You rule by trying to control the environment around you, and the living beings within it, disrupting Nature as it was meant to be. We will never trust Dark Ones,” the female hissed.

  “You prey on the blood and souls of others. A hungry tiger will not lie beside a fat rabbit and not eat it.”

  “Depends on the tiger,” Ashlu returned. “How hungry it is. How tempting the rabbit. And really, I take issue with being compared to Beasts. We Dark Ones have our needs, but we are not animals, after all.”

  She smiled cajolingly and took a step closer to the two young Elementals.

  “But come, where are my manners? I am Ashlu Da-ni-gal. With whom do I have the honor of speaking?”

  The female wanted to reject this politeness, Ashlu could tell, but then the male slanted a meaningful look at his partner. He wanted a way out. They both looked weary, starved. They didn’t really want to keep fighting the war their Elders started.

  Luckily, neither did Ashlu.

  But she wanted something out of this encounter. She wasn’t just going to exchange civilities and trudge back down the mountain empty handed.

  That was when she heard the baby’s cry above the din of the ongoing thunder and rumbling rocks.

  Within a split moment, Ashlu communicated telepathically to her Commander, who leapt past the two Elementals blocking the entrance to the cave in a series of bounds and somersaults, taking them entirely by surprise.

  Before anyone could move, the Dark Commander had three young Elementals in the cave held back at sword point, and with his other arm, tucked a newborn babe against his armor breastplate.

  The two Elementals who guarded the entrance turned as one toward him, their powers burgeoning to be set free. But the tight grip the Dark warrior had on the infant made them freeze with indecision.

  Ashlu slowly and carefully walked past them, entering the cave herself, as her guards formed an armed barrier around the cave, enclosing everyone within.

  With a quick glance, she saw the handful of young Elementals huddled together inside. Mere children. Some of whom hadn’t even reached physical adulthood. Apparently, the male and female who greeted Ashlu were the eldest of the bunch.

  The Consul had been right. All the storming, thundering, and earth-shaking had been a false front. Even with just her small contingent of personal guards, she could crush them easily this day.

  While Ashlu calculated her options, her eyes were drawn magnetically to the bundle held tightly against the Commander’s chest.

  The darkest, shiniest obsidian orbs glittered back at her. The baby was no longer crying.

  She rather doubted he’d cried before. More likely, he’d been shouting for her attention in baby speak earlier.

  There was something regal and awe-inspiring about the babe, though he couldn’t be more than a few months old. A solemn face looked directly at her, holding her gaze with large, fathomless black eyes.

  “Ah,” Ashlu murmured with understanding. “You are their leader, little one. What are your powers, I wonder?”

  The mountain trembled with enough force to make loose rocks fall from the cavern’s ceiling, and the stone ground beneath them split with zigzagging hairline fractures.

  She held the infant’s gaze while the mountain’s shaking intensified.

  The Commander’s cinch on the babe tightened reflexively in a bid to squelch the Elemental’s powers, but Ashlu made him loosen his arm by holding up her hand.

  “We are going to reach an understanding, you and I,” she said softly, not looking away from the tiny, dark-haired male.

  “We both know I have the upper hand. Either we leave here all in one piece with an ironclad agreement, or I leave your Kind behind in bloody ruins.”

  The mountain shook so fiercely at that threat that Ashlu almost lost her footing, but she merely smiled internally. Amused.

  The tiny Elemental had a temper.

  “I have no doubt you could bury all of us alive beneath these rocks. But then we all lose, don’t we? And who knows what Dark Queen will arise after me? Another ruler like my mother? Who will hunt all of your Kind to extinction perhaps? Is that what you want, little man?”

  The mountain gradually stilled, but pebbles still danced agitatedly upon the ground.

  “Now…” Ashlu said, gingerly taking the baby into her own arms from the Commander.

  “I am Ashlu Da-ni-gal, Queen of the Dark Ones. How shall I address you, little prince?”

  *** *** *** ***

  Ramses abruptly opened his eyes.

  It had been ages since he’d had that particular dream. Why did he have it now?

  “Ashlu Da-ni-gal…Rope of Greatness…Dark Queen…Prince Hulaal…Precious Stone…Hmm…Fire Mountain…”

  Eveline slurred the jumbled words against his chest, one side of her face practically plastered to his naked skin.

  How did she…?

  Could she somehow see into his past? Those names…he hadn’t heard them in over seven millennia.

  A shiver of alarm chased down his spine.

  No one knew what he really was, and he intended to keep it that way. Until he found a way to gather his Kind together and consolidate their powers, he would continue hiding in plain sight—in a most visible role, in fact, as King of the Dark Ones.

  A tiger amongst wolves.

  And then a different thought occurred to him.

  The Pure Ones’ Seer obviously had incredible research skills, if after only one day, she was able to piece together clues to a long-lost past. How did she know to dig into this particular timeline? And how did she find the tomes that referenced it?

  Ramses had spent untold hours covertly scouring the Cove’s library archives since he was recruited into the New England vampire hive. He hadn’t been able to pore over every word in every scroll, but nothing of what he’d seen indicated that there might be references to a buried ancient past.

  Now, in less than twenty-four hours, the Seer had stumbled upon the beginning of a story he’d done everything in his power to erase from the memory of Immortal and human Kinds.

  Eveline Marceau was dangerous.

  What was she looking for? What would she find?

  She was also useful, his temporary librarian. Instead of exposing his secrets, perhaps he could use her skills to help him uncover more. Perhaps she’d even be the key to setting him free.

  Sharp little teeth chose that moment to clamp down on his collar bone.

  The sting of her bite was negligible; the small pain somehow pleasurable. It was her soft, moist mouth sucking on his skin, and her warm, wet tongue licking the bruised area that undid him.

  The hungry little savage was gnawing on his flesh again, a strange, alarming habit. One that unintentionally set his body aflame with blatant arousal.

  Ramses was distantly shocked at his own reaction to the red-headed fairy.

  He’d always been a male in absolute control of his body’s reactions and functions. She’d trained him well. Unless his mind allowed it, his flesh and blood would not so much as stir, much less harden painfully and broil scalding hot within his veins.

  “Chocolate…Cinnamon…Hmm…”

  The tenac
ious little Seer was muttering nonsense in her sleep again, now nuzzling her face into the hollow of his throat. Like a soft, adorable, harmless kitten.

  But then—

  Chomp.

  She was trying to bite him again, her mouth closing over a throbbing vein in his neck, sucking voraciously on it despite the barrier of his skin.

  If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was behaving like a Pure or Dark female with her Mate. She seemed to be trying to penetrate him without her fangs. Instead, she left little bruises all over his chest and neck in the restlessness of her slumber. With his Dark One healing powers, the marks disappeared mere minutes after she made them in his skin, but illogically, he almost wished they’d remain there like tattoos.

  Almost.

  Because he’d sworn long ago that he’d never again bear the marks of a female’s possession on his body.

  But he’d make certain she bore his. It was time to feed.

  He shifted his body and tightened his arms and legs around her until she was completely immobile within the prison of his embrace. He buried his nose in her wavy auburn tresses, inhaling deeply.

  Unbidden, a low growl rumbled through his throat.

  She smelled delicious. And he already knew that she tasted even better.

  Though he’d only taken a small sip of her blood, mere drops really, when he sealed their Blood Contract at the cabin, it was enough for the rich, heady flavor of her to imprint forever on his tongue, in his taste buds.

  Every individual’s blood tasted unique. Vampires tended to drink from others not of their own Kind, unless they were Mated. In which case, it was a biological imperative to feed from their Mate. Humans, in general, had the blandest taste. Compared to other Kinds, their blood seemed diluted, liked watered down wine. There were always exceptions to every rule, but they were exceptionally rare.

  Dark Ones’ blood had a smoky flavor, thicker, stronger, but ultimately unsatisfying to another vampire, unless it was between Mates. Drinking the blood of another Dark One didn’t quench a vampire’s thirst. Sometimes, it made it worse.

  Pure Ones seemed to be made for Dark Ones’ consumption. Both blood and body. Their blood tasted sweeter than any other Kind, like the most addictive nectar, just the right consistency, clean and pure. The more a Dark One drank, the more they wanted to keep drinking.

  Their bodies, too, satisfied a Dark One’s need for dominance. Pure Ones, for the most part, had an innocence and…well, purity…about them that called to the primitive possessiveness in a Dark One’s nature. Like a lion subduing an antelope. A hawk ensnaring a hare.

  It was simply the order of things.

  Ever since he laid eyes on Eveline Marceau, Ramses wanted to possess her. Inside and out. He wanted to own every fiber of her being.

  But for now, he’d start by taking her sweet, Pure blood.

  With his fangs, he cut through the top buttons of her conservative wool dress, baring her throat and upper chest. Perhaps he’d have the Sentries replace her wardrobe with something more exciting. On the other hand, he enjoyed the Seer’s prim librarian style.

  All the more fun to unwrap her.

  Next, he ran the tips of his fangs along her jugular vein, priming the area, making the thin line raise beneath her skin, begging for his penetration. Other Kinds often viewed Dark Ones as predators, even monsters, for taking what they needed from the bodies of others.

  But the truth was: the prey enjoyed being taken.

  Unless a Dark One intended for their bite to hurt, through the chemistry of the venom in their saliva, aside from the initial sting of penetration, the process was usually pleasurable for the prey. Ramses knew that when he sank his fangs into Eveline’s vein, she would feel only undiluted pleasure.

  And arousal. Flaming hot arousal.

  The same feeling that blazed through his own veins as he cocooned her with his naked body, breathed in her fresh, springtime scent and conformed his hard angles to her subtle, feminine curves.

  She released a long, shuddering sigh as she unconsciously angled her throat closer to his face, pressing the pulsing vein in her neck against his lips.

  Bite me, her body entreated.

  Drink me, her blood demanded.

  Come inside me, her woman’s core pleaded as she aligned her softness against his turgid length.

  He knew she was soaking wet already. The air around them permeated with her arousal, his arousal, every molecule drenched with the promise of sex.

  He shifted slightly until the plump head of his thick cock pulsed directly against her pearl. Even through layers of fabric, she would feel the steel and heat of him.

  She did, for a desperate little whimper escaped her lips, and she tried to wriggle closer, seeking more friction.

  It would be so easy to lift her skirt, rip away her underthings and thrust himself into her welcoming wet warmth. But then her earlier words echoed in his mind:

  I value my freedom too much…No generosity and attentiveness, as you put it, will make me give up myself.

  Oh, he’d make sure she gave up herself to him. And when she did, when she admitted her helpless, obsessive need for him, he’d only give her what she wanted when she begged him.

  On her knees. With her eyes, hands and mouth.

  But for now, he’d give her a small taste of what she could have if she let herself go with him.

  Slowly, he licked the raised vein of her jugular, now plump and pulsing, eager for his penetration. He sucked the silky skin of her neck with his lips and peppered light kisses all along her throat, jaw and face.

  She mewled beseechingly, her brow wrinkled with impatience, frustration and wantonness.

  Over and over he did this, teasing her with his mouth, scratching her with his fangs, abrading her sensitive skin with his stubble, but never sinking where she wanted him. Below, he subtly nudged his hips against her, grinding his erection in the V of her thighs, his head against her clitoris, keeping the pressure hard enough to drive her insane, light enough to thwart release.

  Her desperate, needy moans filled the chamber, physically reached inside of him and grabbed him by the balls.

  He was hard enough to split marble. He no longer knew whether he was playing with his prey or torturing himself.

  Enough.

  Slowly, painstakingly, he penetrated her skin with his fangs, then sank the tips into her luscious vein.

  And took his first deep draw of ambrosia.

  “All of us have the touch of Elements within us, as children of this world, the Goddesses’ creations. Some more than others. Those who have vivid dreams are touched by Water. Those who intuit the thoughts and needs of others are touched by Air. Those who effortlessly make plants grow are touched by Earth. And those with strong, burning passions are touched by Fire… ”

  —From the hidden sections of the Ecliptic Scrolls

  Chapter Five

  Eveline would not characterize herself as a passionate woman. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

  But lately, she found that she didn’t know herself quite as well as she thought—

  As dreams of undulating, sweat-sheened naked bodies writhed across the dirty, dirty recesses of her subconscious mind.

  Thankfully, it wasn’t a great number of bodies, just two. A small, pale female, one that reminded of what she saw when she looked in the mirror. (But surely not! She wouldn’t be dreaming about herself, for heaven’s sake, when she could be conjuring the goddess-likes of Aella, or the supremely sexual, siren-esque Jade).

  And a very large, very naked male body. Twisted like dark tree roots around the female. Solid, muscular. Satin over shifting sinew. He reminded her of someone… Who…who was it he reminded her of?

  She felt him all around her, his hot, smooth skin burning hers—well, burning the female in her dream’s—his clean, musky scent permeating the air, his soft, full lips planting moist kisses along her neck. She couldn’t see this male clearly in her mind’s eye, but she knew what he looked like th
rough touch, sound and smell.

  His hair was a mass of silky curls, tickling her nose. His nose was straight and narrow, a blade that he ran deliciously along the bottom of her jaw. His cheekbones were sharp and lean; she could feel the edges and hollows against her face. His mouth was surprisingly plump-lipped, a startling contrast to the hard bristles of his beard.

  Gracious! She certainly had a vivid imagination! Who was boring and staid now?

  Ha! Take that, Aella!

  The rest of the male was more difficult to make out in her rather salacious subconscious. She just knew that he was extremely large.

  Everywhere.

  Instinctively, her thighs squeezed tightly together, trapping something hot, hard and heavy between them.

  The male in her dream hissed out a breath, the raspy exhale raising goosebumps all across her skin.

  Ooohhh, she liked that sound. She wanted him to do it again.

  So she rocked a little against that thick, steely length, even as the female in her dream took the male’s pulsing sex within her.

  The most primitive, masculine groan rumbled in her ear, sending fissures of pleasure coursing through her blood, setting her body on fire.

  Oh yeah… she loved that sound.

  The naked bodies in her dream undulated together as one, no telling where he began and she ended. They were like the Taoist symbol of Yin and Yang, the white and black molding to each other desperately, clinging, grasping, chasing in an endless loop.

  The male’s hips pumped in a lazy rhythm, the perfect globes of his buttocks clenching in time with Eveline’s own drenched core. The female arched and shuddered in sync with his deep, relentless thrusts, her lower body swallowing everything he gave her, always begging for more.

  She was so close.

  So close…

  She could feel it. Her sex quivered and wept.

  This dream was the bomb! When was the last time she had one like this? Never! That’s when.

  Eveline’s subconscious twin was beside herself with glee.