Department 57: Bloody Crystal Page 4

  Helplessly she convulsed around him, her pussy clenching his cock as if it would never let it go. And she had her reward. He stiffened, his whole body becoming as rigid as a plank for a fraction of a second, before he gave one sharp cry and jerked, releasing his semen inside her.

  It felt good, hot. Essential.

  Wow. Oh fuck. Better than he’d ever known. Maybe. Rhodri didn’t want to believe it, that this had turned out to be so fucking good. But she’d stiffened when he’d called her his. He couldn’t help it. He felt like that with almost anyone he came into contact with, that need to protect. His alpha nature, someone had told him once. He didn’t do fucking alphabets. He was what he was, and he was usually comfortable about it. But with that one tiny withdrawal, she’d made him think.

  Yeah, he wanted to protect. He always wanted that. The heritage he belonged to was based on hundreds, no, thousands of years of vampires caring for their people. Add that to the Welsh tradition of the male provider, and it made him extra aware of that side of his nature.

  He loved the sensation of Cerys under him—her tiny body completely covered—but he couldn’t stay like this forever. Carefully he withdrew, not for the first time blessing the fact that they didn’t need condoms. He didn’t know if he’d have managed to control himself otherwise. Despite the vampire credo never to use condoms, he did sometimes because his mortal partners felt uncomfortable if he didn’t. Most of the vamps he knew used them these days. But he hadn’t once considered even asking her if she’d prefer it. She’d throw off any disease at nightfall, when she turned full vampire, but there was a very faint chance they could get pregnant. He ought to say something about that.

  So he rolled off her, plumped the pillows as best he could, and lifted her. He laid her against them before finding a corner of the duvet and tugging until he got enough to cover them both. Since he ended up with snaps pressing into his chest, he was pretty sure he’d got it sideways or upside down or something, but at least he’d covered her. He pulled her into his arms and gave her a soft, sweet kiss. “I’m sorry.”

  “What for?”

  “No condom.”

  She laughed. “No. And it felt fantastic. I’ve never”—she flushed a pretty pink—“never done it bareback before.”

  “Never?”

  “I—that is…” Her voice faded, and he gave her another kiss to encourage her. “I’ve never done it with a vampire before.”

  He shot up in bed, taking her with him, so severe was the shock she’d just given him. “Never? I know we’re rare, but not that fucking rare. You have met them, right? Llandudno isn’t that tiny. Surely there’s someone else here. Haven’t you contacted Talents, been contacted?”

  She nodded. “But I never did more than acknowledge them. I never felt, you know, enough.”

  “Enough what?” Remembering just how enough she’d been a few minutes before, he nearly laughed, but she looked embarrassed. In the throes of his orgasm, he’d released his mental link with her, overtaken by pure physical pleasure, but now he opened again, slipped into the place where he’d wedged a small mental anchor. Once she’d let him in, he hadn’t wanted her to refuse him again, so he had his own way in now. She could close it if she wanted to. He prayed she wouldn’t. But this was the first time he’d used it, and he waited for her acceptance.

  To his profound relief, she gave it, accepted him. He relaxed and felt her. He was right. Embarrassed. Gently he drew her down again. “Talk to me, Cerys. Tell me why you’ve never fucked another Talent.”

  As he’d hoped, the F bomb made her laugh. “I don’t know who fucked who. Or is it whom?”

  He joined in her awkward laughter, but he wouldn’t let her off the hook. “So tell me. Why keep apart? Are there no Talents in Llandudno? We usually at least acknowledge each other.”

  She gave a movement he thought was a shrug. He gazed into her eyes, praying she’d tell him the truth. He kept out of all but the outer layer of her mind, wanting her to volunteer the information. Stupid, he knew, but he was constantly looking for trust and respect in others. And constantly being disappointed. He prayed this wasn’t yet another example that would add to his cynicism.

  She sighed. “My parents. They told me to keep away, and it got to be a habit.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “They were hippies. Kind of. You know, the old-fashioned kind, bells and tie-dyed clothes and long hair. I loved them so much.” She smiled. “I missed them so much when they died.”

  It was always hard to hear of the death of fellow Talents, especially vampires. There were so few of them. “I’m sorry.”

  “You really are, aren’t you?” A look of wonder came into her eyes. “I didn’t think anyone cared except me.” She laughed, but it sounded awkward.

  “So why me? You could have stayed blocked, let me leave.”

  She looked away then, glanced down. He put a finger under her chin, urged her to look at him.

  “Cerys? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  “It’s okay.” A gentle flush mantled her face. “I liked you.”

  He laughed. “I liked you too. That’s why I stayed. You have an aura of fragility. You know that? Makes a man want to take care of you.”

  She slid her leg along his calf, and he caught his breath, let her see the pleasure in his eyes. “Thank you. You’re my first vampire. My first Talent.”

  An unwelcome thought struck him. “How old are you?”

  She heaved a sigh. “Twenty-six. How old are you?”

  “A hundred seventy-one.” He rarely thought about his age. Talents rarely did until they showed their first gray hair. Then they started worrying, because they aged fast and died around two years after the first sign. But he was in his prime. Barring accidents and violent death, he could look forward to a few hundred years yet. “Twenty-six? For real?”

  She nodded, looking almost shamefaced. “I’ve always felt a bit awkward because of that. But because I’m so young, my parents sheltered me.”

  It made a lot more sense now. Children were so precious. “So they kept you to themselves. Was that because they didn’t trust other Talents?”

  “Oh yes.” She said that without hesitation. “They taught me everything I needed to know, but they warned me to keep Talents at a distance if I could. Their history hadn’t given them any trust. They preferred the company of their friends, their community. As far as anyone knew, they were aging hippies who liked the wandering life. We settled here because this was their hometown, and it was quiet and out of the way. I liked it here, but now they’re dead, I was thinking of moving on.” She forced a smile. “I have a long time ahead of me, don’t I?”

  He drew her close, held her against him, and kissed her forehead. “How long have you been alone?”

  “Five years.” Her voice broke, and he felt her swallow, holding back her tears.

  “Let it out, honey, if you want to. You’re safe with me.”

  As she wept, he held her and realized this wasn’t a ship-in-the-night thing, not as far as he was concerned. He vowed to take care of her, to see she was looked after, even if he couldn’t do it himself. But one more thing concerned him.

  When she lifted her head and gave him a watery smile, his heart turned over. He gave her a gentle kiss, taking her salt-flavored lips as a tribute. “Can you tell me how they died?” he asked very unthreateningly, very softly.

  She sniffed and gazed up at him, her pretty blue eyes sheened with tears. “Yes. They went to London to a protest about something or other. They were always joining in protests and marches. But something went wrong. You remember the big protests that year.”

  His mouth firmed. That year’s antitax protests had been severe. A change of government had meant tempers were rising high. But he hadn’t heard of any deaths. He’d check. “I’m so sorry.”

  “They died late on the day of the march. I had a visit from someone. Not a Talent, but he worked for Department Fifty-seven. He said the Depa
rtment had taken them in when they found them bleeding on the street. The agent who found them took them to hospital, one for Talents, but they couldn’t save them.”

  That made it easier. He usually worked out of New York, but he had an in with the head of the British branch. He’d call him. Two vampires dying like that was not unheard of, especially during the daytime, but he wanted to quell his unease. He’d feel happier if he could get Will Grady to confirm the story, maybe pick up a few details. But not now. Now she needed him, and he needed to comfort her.

  It passed through his mind that he rarely felt such an instant connection with anyone. He preferred to keep his emotions to himself, but they were spilling out in all directions as far as this beautiful vampire was concerned. But she needed him right now. She needed someone. That was for sure.

  “Why do you live here?”

  She gave him a bright smile. “It’s all I can afford. And I have a wonderful view of the sea. I love that. I’ll show you.” The expression in her eyes hardened. “If you’re still here, of course. I mean, I don’t want to presume—”

  “Presume away. I’m not going anywhere for a while. And I want to see you sorted. We look after our own, you know.” It wasn’t as if he was short of cash. He needed to get her some and see her settled. That shouldn’t be difficult. “Maybe you could buy a place with a view of the sea. You’d like that?”

  Hope dawned in her eyes, then died again just as quickly. “I won’t take handouts. I don’t owe anybody anything, and I want to keep it that way.”

  He sighed. “Not charity. There aren’t many of us around, and every vampire is precious.”

  She snuggled in, and the action made him groan. Her body felt so good against his, smooth and silky. But she needed reassurance and comfort right now.

  Maybe he could do both. Gently he laid her on the sheets and lifted himself on one elbow so he could stroke her and kiss her. She accepted his kiss, but although he wanted to plunge in and eat her up, he kept it softly caressing. Which also had its attractions. He could taste her, feel her need grow.

  With a sigh of surrender, she opened her mind to him. He wondered if she realized what that meant, how much a Talent treasured that moment. She’d done it before, but not like this, not as deep as this. He shuddered when he realized what she’d done. And he couldn’t reciprocate. He held too many secrets, the trust of people who didn’t want their lives opened. But he could open more, give her more. She’d know. Even someone as young as Cerys would know he was keeping parts of himself back. He had no choice.

  He drew away to gaze at her, her eyes glazed with passion now instead of tears. Much better. “Every member of the community counts. We’ll care for you.”

  “I don’t want that. I want to be myself, go my own way. I won’t owe anything to anyone.”

  He cupped the side of her face, caressed her silky hair. “At least accept our protection.”

  She laughed. “Against what? Nobody knows what I am. My parents adopted many children in their lives, children who had no one to look after them. They never told anyone I was their child, the only child they’d made together. Nobody except you knows I’m a vampire, Rhodri. And if you want to help me, you’ll keep it that way.”

  He touched his lips to hers. “If that’s what you want.” But he’d do more than that. He tucked the thought away. So open to each other, he had to be careful.

  This kind of mental connection scared him. He was far more used to keeping secrets, to hiding himself away. Sure, he’d give his lovers a little more of himself, but not all of it. Or nearly all. But he’d found it so easy with her.

  A familiar fear gripped him. Had he made a mistake? Had she tricked him?

  But that was a fear born of his essential nature and the job he did. He was too used to looking for trouble everywhere he went. Not this sweet, open woman. He forced it aside, quelled the thought. It was him, not her.

  She spread her palm over his chest. “Mmm, that’s nice.”

  “Glad you like it.” He felt foolishly strong when she did that, and appreciated that he worked out the mortal way. He was stronger than many vampires, simply because they tended to rely on the superstrength their vampire form endowed them with. Rhodri liked the sun, and he liked the freedom of knowing he could look after himself twenty-four hours a day. So he worked out, learned how to use weapons, did everything he could to make himself invulnerable. Unless he was killed outright during the daytime, if the medics could keep him alive until nightfall he could recover from any injury, no matter how bad. But his muscles were the result of hard work, and he was understandably proud of them.

  So to have her little hand smooth over his pecs and head down to his stomach made him feel powerful, like a knight of yore. Even that he was so much bigger than her, although he generally preferred women up to his weight. But that was it. Women. She wasn’t just a woman. She was a vampire, and he’d seen her prowess the night before when she’d fought off her attackers. He frowned, recalling something. “You showed skill last night, not just strength. You knew what to go for.”

  She smiled up at him. “Big bad warrior, you are. I learned self-defense, and I work out. If I didn’t, I’d have been outed long ago. I’m competent, and I can put on a show. In my job, I need it sometimes, but if I tossed them away like I can do, someone would notice. So I tell people I’m a black belt and what have you.” She smiled, and he rejoiced in his ability to bring that back to her. He didn’t want to leave her unhappy. He wanted her strong and protected.

  “I can teach you some more tricks, if you like. Can you use a gun?”

  She shook her head. “We don’t have them in Britain, remember?”

  Rhodri snorted. “I could tell you several places where you can get one. But you’re right, you can’t own one legally. Still, I’d like to teach you.”

  “Me using a gun… Would it turn you on?”

  Shockingly he realized it would. To him a gun, be it a sidearm or larger, was a tool, something he used to get the job done if he had to. Up till now. But the thought of delicate-seeming Cerys holding a carbine or something ridiculously powerful like that made his cock twitch.

  Or that could have been just her making it do that. It hardened. He felt the skin stretch in a pleasant way, like stretching his arms over his head in the mornings, opening up and welcoming the new day. Or in this case, the new pussy.

  He stroked down her body, watching his large, tanned hand make its way over her delicate, pale skin. Bending his head, he touched a barely there kiss to her breast, then across to her nipple, already beaded for him.

  He sucked it in greeting before he continued to explore the rest of her body. “So pretty,” he murmured against her as he moved inexorably down. He opened her softly with finger and thumb and eased his forefinger down the crease, gathering moisture and drawing it out. He slid just inside her, rimmed her, and heard her happy moan. His mind warmed, like dawn creeping over the horizon, a reflection of her relaxation. Keeping his mind open, caressing hers, he moved down, kissed from her navel to the cluster of curls protecting her femininity. Her delectable aroma reached him, and he breathed deep, relishing his own response, his cock hardening even more.

  When he touched his tongue to her clit, she gasped and her back arched, thrusting it up into his mouth. He took it and then took more before he gave her the most intimate kiss of all. Sucking her clit in with a strong motion, he opened his mouth wide against her, sliding his tongue into her pussy, tasting her arousal. She gave a little cry, and from the muffled sound she made, he guessed she’d clutched the pillow and brought it around to stifle the sound.

  She fed his mind with images, swirling, heated patterns that were uniquely her. He ate her, drank her down, took her as his own. Attending to her mental messages, he noted when he pulled on her clit a particular way, when he tongued her just so, and he did it more, teased her with it.

  Her cries grew more frequent, more frantic. Squeaks and whimpers, and then she twisted her hips, but he hel
d her down, made her take it.

  Higher and higher until he held her right on the pinnacle, teetering on the edge for an unbearable moment until she tumbled into clear space and flooded him with her juices.

  He rejoiced that he could do this for her. He’d do it again and again because he loved her taste. He wondered if it could be addictive and decided that it might be his particular drug. He lifted up—not bothering to wipe his mouth, still wet with her—and came over her, ready to fuck her once more.

  His cock seemed to know its way now, but he shifted a little so it didn’t slide all the way in. He didn’t want that, not yet. Prolonging the wait was one of the best things about having sex like this. Sharing with someone instead of scratching an itch. There was nothing he wanted to scratch now, just to pleasure. To make it as good for her as he could.

  He licked his lips, tasting her anew, watching her gaze up at him, her eyes hooded, her mouth partly open, and he sensed her mind slowly spinning down from its ecstatic high. Time to take her up again.

  Smiling at her, he eased in slowly, keeping his mind locked with hers, so he felt her reactions when he entered her. No pressure, no pain, just effortless pleasure. He didn’t want to hurt her anymore, didn’t want to see any more tears today. Ignoring his needs—which were, as usual, to drive deep inside until he came—he concentrated on her reaction, working to push his to the back of his mind. He kissed her when he reached her sweet spot, just as she flinched when he moved past it. But he didn’t make the kiss lingering. He wanted to watch her eyes. Those amazingly expressive eyes, sky blue. They should contain joy all the time, not the melancholy he’d seen too much in them already.

  He watched the blue warm and blur as he took her higher. And higher. He deliberately angled his thrusts to slide past her G-spot every time, watching and feeling to ensure he was doing it right, although it was getting increasingly harder to ignore his own excitement. He gritted his teeth, tried to think of something cold and rational.

  Esti.

  No, she didn’t belong here. Something else. Ah yes, ice. Just pure ice. That would work. He’d shivered his way through a few ice storms in his time. He concentrated on cold sleet driving past his face, saw the streaks, but her blue gaze penetrated the haze and he found her again.