Darklight 5: Darktide Page 4

  “Would it even work if I ingest it?” The idea of consuming blood sent up a volley of red flags from every basic health class, but biology never taught me about supernatural circumstances.

  “Well, I’d say there’s only one way to find out,” he said, with a hint of his usual eager curiosity. “It’s the best chance we’re going to have for a while. We’re close to a medical bay if something goes wrong, we have privacy, and the pain from the curse isn’t too bad yet.” He gave me a serious look. “Do you want to give it a try? I completely support you if you say no and would rather try a transfusion some other time or leave it until we know more.” He squeezed my hand. “I know you don’t want to be kept apart again, and neither do I, but this is a risk whatever way you look at it. You’re the one taking the bulk of the risk. It’s your choice.”

  There was a moment of almost disassociation as I realized I was seriously contemplating drinking my partner’s blood in order for us to be together. No amount of relationship knowledge gleaned from pop culture and society could prepare a young woman for a vampire partner, could it?

  “I’m willing to try,” I said. A swell of bravery came over me, and I gave him a reckless grin. “It’s not the craziest thing we’ve done.”

  “We’ll start with you drinking, then,” he replied with a flash of an equally reckless smile. “But remember, just drink a bit. Even though you had much more last time at the sanitarium, ingesting is different than transfusion. We don’t want you to throw up.”

  Ingesting my vampire lover’s blood? I’ll try anything even if it’s that unsettling…

  The determination rising in me was strong. Consuming blood was bad for humans in general, but it was our only option right now. The heartburn flickered in my chest, as if goading me. I nodded fiercely.

  “Let’s do this before the curse gets out of hand again. I’m not keen on suddenly passing out, with the Immortal Plane invading my home. We can figure this out. Together,” I promised. He squeezed my hand.

  “Together.”

  Chapter Five

  The bed shifted as Dorian sat directly in front of me, crossing his legs. Butterflies of anticipation beat their wings wildly in my stomach. I tried to steady my nerves.

  His dark hair, longer than ever now, fell into his face. I fought the urge to push it back. He stared into my eyes, brow wrinkled with worry, and my heartburn spiked. Was the room growing warmer, or was it just me? Needing to break eye contact, I glanced down at the comforter.

  “The sheets,” I muttered. “Let’s try not to get blood on them.” Explaining to Ruiz why our bed looked like a crime scene was not a conversation I wanted to have.

  Dorian nodded, briefly leaving the bed to grab one of the dark green towels from the small bathroom. On the way back, he pulled a small knife from his weapons belt, one of the weapons we had been allowed to keep. The others had been taken as evidence for research or put in a gun locker.

  Laying the towel between us, he went back to his place. In the cross-legged position, our knees almost touched. He extended his arm over the towel and met my eyes.

  Our gazes locked as he touched the knife to his inner arm, pressing enough to indent the skin but not enough to draw blood.

  “Remember, I heal fast,” he said, then made a quick, clean slice. He never flinched.

  I watched, transfixed, as the red, shadowed blood welled in the wound. His knee brushed mine reassuringly, providing some comfort. My stomach clenched with anticipation for what we were about to do.

  Without a word, Dorian offered me his arm. To an outsider, I knew this moment would appear sacrilegious, but to me… the trust required by both of us to take this step made it one of the most intimate moments we’d ever shared. Steeling myself, I leaned forward, trying not to inhale the telltale metallic scent. A few drops spilled over his muscled forearm to the towel below, staining the fabric black.

  This was actually happening.

  I sucked in a deep breath before gently pressing my lips to his skin. The taste was immediate—bitter, foreign, wrong. Soft and careful, Dorian pressed his free hand to the back of my head, encouraging me to drink.

  The texture was off-putting, and I struggled not to retch as the first rivulets trickled down my throat. But I pushed through; this was for us. I begged the burn in my chest to go away as I sucked the wound, listening as Dorian’s breathing turned slightly ragged. At some point—I wasn’t sure how long I’d been drinking—his fingers tangled in my hair and softly pulled me away.

  “That’s enough.”

  I sat back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Nothing seemed different, beyond the slightly queasy sensation in the pit of my stomach. And then I felt it. Just like before, a sudden rush of energy flooded me. The harshest metallic part of the aftertaste faded as my sense of self melted into Dorian’s in a haze of pure energy. It was slightly similar to when I’d used the tracking spell to sense Gate Maker’s aura. There was a tug deep within me, from what I could only assume was my aura, or frequency, or whatever label I was putting on it nowadays. As my knee hit Dorian’s, there was a snap of electrical energy, and I gasped as I came back to reality. The bitter taste of his blood lingered in my mouth, a reminder of my savage actions. Did I look as wild as I felt?

  His glacial eyes darkened as he met my gaze. “Lyra.” His voice thrummed with a husky tone of need. It was clear from his face that he found me beautiful, even with the blood smeared across my mouth. Drawn into the depths of his eyes, I leaned forward, mesmerized by his presence. My body hummed like a live wire.

  “Lyra.” Again, the throaty whisper. It was the most beautiful sound to my ears. I sighed as his fingers traced unknowable labyrinths across my thigh. Desire washed over me, swelling from low and deep in my belly.

  Overcome with an ancient urgency I’d never truly felt before, even with Dorian, I twined my arms around his neck. Rising onto my knees, I crashed my lips against his, starving for him. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around me, careful to avoid my injuries. One hand pressed flat to the curve of my spine, urging me closer. Traces of blood slipped from my tongue to his in a way that should have felt obscene but only felt perfectly intimate. The burn faded to blissful pleasure.

  I wanted him. He wanted me. This moment was everything we had been waiting for. I floated on a wave of lightheaded excitement, completely swept away by the sensation of his muscled frame. His strong shoulders brushed my skin with an intoxicating warmth.

  He sucked my bottom lip, one of his fangs catching on the tender flesh and making me shudder. His hands fell to my hips, caressing the bare skin that peeked out between the T-shirt and shorts I’d worn to sleep. Although my ribs protested at the unexpected movement and pressure, I hardly noticed the pain through the pleasure. My body was a jumbled mess, unsure which stimulation to prioritize. Every cell buzzed with happiness.

  Our experiment had worked. It was time to take advantage of that.

  Dancing my fingertips down his spine earned me a delighted shudder, and he sighed into our kiss. I groaned in response as his tongue swept my bottom lip, as he simultaneously rose to his knees to pull my hips flush against his. Excitement pooled in my stomach.

  Alas, the sheets were done for. He eased me to the bed, the comforter already kicked to the floor. I halfheartedly swiped at the blood streaked across his face with the towel. He twisted out of the way and grinned wickedly.

  “Ruiz can send us a bill,” he said in a rumbling voice that tickled the sensitive shell of my ear.

  My skin prickled with goosebumps. I nuzzled the crook of his neck, trailing kisses down the thundering pulse I felt against my lips. I had fed from Dorian. For some reason, the fact made me feel powerful. Tangling my hand into his dark hair, I returned to his lips. He hovered over me, eyes intense as he made sure not to put pressure on my ribs. The pain of the injury had faded into the background, but it could return and put a stop to this with one passionate mistake.

  My stomach flipped nervously as Dorian skimmed his fi
ngers, feather-light, over the length of my torso to dip under the edge of my T-shirt. The Bureau-issued clothing was far from sexy, but his searching hands begged to differ. I shook my head—not in rejection, but disbelief. A half-delirious chuckle left my lips.

  He raised a cocky eyebrow and glanced up at me from where he was preparing to press a kiss to the sliver of my stomach that was visible. “Something funny, Sloane?”

  “We’re alive,” I whispered back, and smiled up at him, pure joy rushing through me. “I can’t believe we’re alive.”

  He descended upon me. After a quick look for permission, his fingers dropped to the edge of my top. Eager and willing, I helped him pull it over my head, ignoring the dull pangs of pain. Despite the numerous cuts and bruises that littered my body, he let out a low sigh of appreciation that warmed my cheeks. There was a stutter of nervousness in my throat caused by my complete lack of experience with this level of intimacy, but the gentle awe in Dorian’s eyes made me bold.

  “Equality,” I said, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

  Needing no other encouragement, he yanked it off. In the soft light of the lamp, I drank in every deliciously lean inch of him. It wasn’t as if I’d never seen shirtless men before; I’d seen them in the gym, but none of them had ever made my pulse race like the sight of Dorian’s muscled torso. The memories from the bath came back to me, and I warmed in response.

  Moving into the space between my parted legs, he leaned down to plant a kiss just above my breasts. I caught my breath, reaching up to rest my bandaged right hand on the back of his neck, the slight pain from my palm only heightening the pleasure I felt from his touch. At my encouragement, he drew closer, the friction of the skin-to-skin contact making me gasp. But changing position put pressure on my ribs, and the injury screamed a complaint. I failed to stifle the hiss of pain, and Dorian froze completely.

  “Did the painkillers wear off?” he asked, easing backward.

  I wanted to lie, but I doubted I would’ve gotten away with it under his watchful gaze.

  “Maybe,” I muttered and gently shifted to test the extent of the pain. “It’s weird. It’s kind of coming and going, after I drank from you.”

  He rolled over beside me. My eyelids dropped with disappointment. These touches from Dorian were wonderfully new; I didn’t want the experience to end yet.

  “I can still touch you like this,” he said, with a quiet laugh at my slightly pouting expression.

  I bit my lip and gave a quiet hum of pleasure as he backed up his claim, ghosting his hands over my body. His gentle touch swept over my breasts and down the expanse of my stomach. He pressed close to my side, scattering kisses over my shoulder and neck. The butterflies stirred again, hoping he might go further. The cut on his arm was almost closed already, but there were livid bruises across his body from our time in the Immortal Plane.

  “Guess neither of us is quite healed,” I said, softly tracing a circle around the largest bruise on his chest. He inhaled appreciatively under my light touch. “The potential apocalypse doesn’t ease the mind much, either.”

  Dorian let his hand keep aimlessly meandering across my stomach. “You mean impending doom doesn’t sexually excite you? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  I laughed so hard I hurt my ribs again.

  “We’re delirious,” he pointed out, laughing. “Exhausted, wounded, and… covered in blood.”

  I glanced guiltily at one or two red splotches on the sheets. Oops. If there was ever a time to blame injuries, this is it.

  We settled down once more to try and sleep. As Dorian eased my head to his chest, I sank gratefully into his warmth. He ran his fingers through my hair, and his touch brought about new waves of pleasure, but softer and less urgent. All this was so new to me, but now was hardly the time to broach that with Dorian. My inexperience was strange enough for me, and I was living it. I’d spent my entire life training to be ready for anything, yet I knew so little of this. But now, maybe we’d found enough of a cure that learning with Dorian wasn’t such an impossible concept.

  We silently held one another, tender with our touches, for a long time. It was intoxicating to communicate my feelings for him through touch. There was only so much that words and looks could do, especially during chaotic missions.

  I pressed a hand to my chest, as if to prod the heartburn and make sure it wasn’t merely hiding. The pain failed to resurface, and curiously, my ribs had almost numbed. Perhaps the painkillers I’d taken still had some life in them, or… the blood was having some kind of unanticipated effect.

  My eyelids sagged. Dorian, his chest rising and falling evenly beneath me, lapsed into the deep, long breathing of sleep that sounded like a serenade. I pressed my cheek to his warm, naked skin and yawned. He let out a soft snore as if in response. I grinned and snuck a look up at his slumbering face. He looked more peaceful than I had ever seen him.

  I loved that.

  I loved him. When we touched, his presence extinguished the chaotic swirl of thoughts in my mind until there was nothing but calm, cool darkness in my skull. I had no thoughts of tomorrow, just an appreciation for right now. I brushed my fingers over the muscular ridges of his stomach and begged time to stand still. I wanted to revel in this connection with him for just a while longer. He brought such warmth and security into my life, despite the danger we faced so often. I hoped I did the same for him.

  Unlike before, he was relaxed as he slept. Gone were the unconscious shudders of nightmares.

  I smiled to myself, ready to rest and heal together. We would need our strength for the work ahead.

  Finally, to the sound of Dorian’s breathing, I fell asleep.

  Chapter Six

  I hazily registered sunlight streaming through the windows opposite the bed. Blinking sleepily, I rolled over to look at the clock on the bedside table. I made out 12:03 p.m. through my blurry vision. Coming back to the real world was like swimming to the surface after a long, disorienting plunge into the sea.

  For a moment, my mind scrambled in panic at seeing the late hour, but then I relaxed into the soft mattress. Dorian shifted beside me, giving an adorable little mutter. I curled into his arms, enjoying the tactile connection. My vision gradually cleared, and I glanced up at Dorian, surprised to see him staring down at me. His entrancing ice-blue eyes were filled to the brim with warmth, more like a summer sky than a glacier. So, he was already awake. I smiled up at him, unable to help it. A sensation of giddy joy and contentment surrounded us.

  “We need to get up,” I muttered against him. My energy flickered inside me, ready to go for today. There was a mountain of things we could do. “Let’s go.”

  He leaned down and whispered, “Good morning to you too. Or,” he looked at the clock, “good afternoon. Give me five minutes.”

  I laughed until he silenced me with a kiss. I squirmed closer, delighted, and ran my hands over his lean torso. Can’t waste that.

  Dorian feathered kisses across my face as one of his hands dropped to my breasts. Cupping one, he squeezed gently as he pressed his lips to mine, swallowing the surprised moan his action elicited.

  “Nice to see you’re feeling better,” a raspy voice said from the doorway. We froze.

  I turned my head mechanically to see Gate Maker, short and stout in a reddish brown goblinoid form with tiny horns, staring at us from the doorway. My hands immediately tugged the sheets up over my shoulders. Dorian groaned.

  Gate Maker shrugged. “You did request that I come along with you.”

  “We didn’t request you share a bedroom with us,” Dorian said, flopping onto his back.

  I debated disappearing beneath the sheets out of embarrassment and frustration. Making out with my vampire partner in front of a mysterious, powerful, otherworldly creature was nowhere on my to-do list.

  “I thought you were sleeping,” I muttered and rubbed my cheek, fully awake now.

  “I was,” Gate Maker replied simply. “And now, I am awake. We should talk before I�
��m forced to hide away again as another animal. No animals speak in your world, right?”

  “Nothing but a parrot, and that won’t do,” I said, stretching. “Just give us a minute.”

  Dorian swung out of bed, grabbing the fresh clothes given to us by the Bureau and pulling them on. Gate Maker politely averted his eyes to the bright blue sky outside as we dressed. I tested my right hand, still wounded from the stone, and it moved without much trouble. The bandages bit into my skin and forced my hand into a curled claw, which made dressing a slow venture. I would never again take the feeling of clean clothes for granted. As I pulled on a thin long-sleeved shirt, there was pain in my ribs, but very little.

  I eyed Gate Maker as I laced up my boots. It was probably best to explain to him more about our current situation with the Bureau. “Here, you can feel free to speak and interact with people at the Bureau.” After we got out the bulk of the weirdness about our adventures in the Immortal Plane to the Bureau, I felt confident that people like Ruiz could handle it. Gate Maker’s insight might prove invaluable to our cause. The Bureau would be impressed, if a little terrified by his existence.

  Gate Maker continued to stare at the sky. “No. I’d prefer not to be discovered and used by yet another organization as a political ploy. I’m done with that. No matter how altruistic your ‘Bureau’ is, all these organizations are the same. They always start with good intentions and end with darkness in their hearts. I won’t go back to captivity.” He spoke with great conviction, a voice haunted by the things he’d seen over nine hundred years in the sanitarium at the behest of the rulers.

  “So you refuse to speak to anyone but us?” Dorian asked disbelievingly. He agreed to come along. So, he should be okay with this. A flicker of annoyance passed through me. I saved him, yet he refused to cooperate with the others.