Resist: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance Page 3

  “There are any number of reasons she hasn’t contacted you,” Cam said, breaking across my tumultuous thoughts. “Some vampires prefer their courtesans to cut off all contact with any world outside the one they’ve created, however temporary.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a fantasy, yet all the players want it to feel as close to real as possible. I have friends who become so obsessed with their courtesans, they want their entire focus to be on them and them alone. Sometimes, they may disappear into their private quarters for months at a time, having no contact with anyone else.”

  “But I thought you all had to sleep during the day. Doesn’t the sunlight burn you or something?”

  “Yes, in the beginning. The younger the vampire, the more sensitive we are to light. As we age, we develop a stronger tolerance, although not ever completely. I can move about in the first few hours after dawn and am able to wake before dusk, but prime daylight can take me to the true death in a matter of minutes.”

  He paused, and before I could ask another question, he said, “And yes, some vampires will insist their courtesans stay with them even during daylight. With that sort of obsessive relationship, it only makes sense for the courtesan to change her sleeping habits to match the vampire to whom she is beholden.”

  Despite my history, I was fascinated by the lifestyle he described. I didn’t want to become sympathetic to my sister’s desires to leave our life to join this one. Until now, I hadn’t thought marrying a country guy and running the farm together was such a bad thing. Now it seemed so ... ordinary. Unexciting. Unsatisfying.

  I couldn’t picture Cam in that sort of life. He’d said he grew up on a farm, yet his button-down silk shirt, slicked back hair, and callus-free hands did not fit the image. And his accent. God, that accent. I tried to picture him milking a cow, talking to her to encourage her to let him pull on her teats, but it didn’t work. He would never fit into that lifestyle, that future I saw for myself.

  “I can track down your sister, if you’d like.”

  “You can?” Excitement charged through my system, and I wasn’t convinced it was entirely due to his offer, as much as it was likely that I would get to spend more time with him if he was helping me locate Abigail.

  He nodded, his gaze hard, penetrating. I had the urge to skirt the table and crawl into his lap, to slide my hands under his shirt and rake my nails down his chest. To expose my neck to those fangs I noticed each time he smiled. Oh God, was he glamouring me? This wasn’t me. I didn’t feel this way about vampires. These were not my own urges.

  “W-why? Why are you offering to help me?” Humans were rarely so altruistic without receiving something in exchange, even if it was a simple accolade. Vampires, based on what little I understood about them, were even less humane. I doubted very much Cam would offer to help find my sister without expecting something in return.

  He sipped his wine and let his gaze wander over the few occupants of the room. “You are right to be suspicious of my motives,” he said without looking at me.

  “Are you sure you aren’t reading my mind?”

  “You have a slight paranoia about that, don’t you? I assure you, it’s your poker face. Or lack thereof.”

  I lifted my chin and frowned, while he laughed and drank more wine.

  “This is my town. Literally, in the vampire world. I am the leader of the covens that reside here. Any vampires who live in the greater Chicago area must abide by my rules or suffer my wrath, which is not something any vampire or human would care to experience. Despite that very real threat, I have heard whisperings of unrest, of vampires who are not following my rules. Even if your sister were not potentially involved with these rogue vampires, I would still figure out what is going on and stop it.”

  “So you’ll do this without expecting anything in return?” There was far too much hopefulness in my voice.

  Cam leaned forward, his eyes glittering like black diamonds. “Would you be willing to do something in exchange for my help?”

  I squeezed my thighs together, my inner muscles clenching as if I were having a mini-orgasm. Good God, what was wrong with me? For fifteen years I’d been taught vampires were the enemy, that I should never, ever be attracted to them. For my entire life I’d lived on my parents’ farm, far away from the likelihood of coming across vampires, thus avoiding the urges my sister had obviously felt when she’d decided to leave home. And now, I met one for the first time and he was practically giving me orgasms by doing nothing more than feeding me excellent wine and delicious food and talking in the sexiest accent I’ve ever heard.

  How pathetic am I?

  “I-I...” I cleared my throat and pushed away from the table, the legs of my chair scraping on the wooden floor. “I don’t need your help.”

  I stood, and before I’d taken a full breath, he was there, next to me, his long, lean fingers wrapping around my upper arm.

  “Unfortunately, you do. Stay here. I will not allow you to leave until I am certain those two men who accosted you have been taken care of.”

  “Are they vampires?” Did he intend to kill them? How he would do it? He had confirmed my belief that sunlight killed vampires, and I’d heard wooden stakes to the heart was another way. Seemed like I read somewhere that chopping off their heads did the trick, too. Considering it wasn’t even midnight yet, I knew sunlight wouldn’t be the answer.

  “No. But they clearly work for one, and I would like to know whom. Stay here while I make those arrangements. It will not take long.” His grip tightened on my arm for a few seconds and then he said, “Please.” The word sounded curiously awkward rolling off his tongue.

  Snagging my wineglass, I dropped back into my seat and watched him stalk away, sleek and lean as a predator, handsome and sexy as my most vivid fantasy. He disappeared through a door next to the bar. What was his connection to this pub that he had access to this private area, that he could slip through doors obviously meant only for employees and yet no one questioned him?

  I should leave without waiting for his assent, but I wasn’t particularly keen on tussling again with the two guys he’d saved me from. Instead, I nibbled cheese, tried steak tartar, and enjoyed my first experience with quality wine.

  The mild moment lasted for all of four minutes. Like Cam, patience was not one of my virtues. I needed to find my sister, needed to find my equilibrium, needed to get away from him before I convinced myself at least one vampire wasn’t the monster I’d experienced during my childhood.

  Pushing out of my chair, I headed toward the unobtrusive exit I’d watched him take a few moments ago. Just as I flattened my palm on the wood, prepared to push it open, it swung toward me, and I had to leap out of the way to avoid getting whacked in the head.

  Cam strutted through the door, glancing down and brushing lint or something from his sleeve before he lifted his face and gave me a puzzled look.

  “Impatient,” I blurted.

  He smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes and made them sparkle. I grabbed the edge of the wooden bar to keep my balance under the force of such beauty.

  “Have we found something we have in common?” he asked, a teasing note in his voice. He nodded at Julie, who hovered nearby. Getting the hint, I returned to our table. I could feel him walking behind me; I had to resist the urge to tug my top down to hide my backside.

  “They are gone,” he said after we were both seated, our wineglasses refilled, and he’d signaled to Julie to bring another bottle.

  “Gone as in left the vicinity, or gone as in...”

  “Left the vicinity. Two of my lieutenants are searching for them now. With luck, they will be found before dawn.” He leaned toward me, gripping his wineglass while his gaze bore into me. Would I even realize it if he glamoured me?

  “You are not safe out there on your own. I do not know why they targeted you. Perhaps it was random, but I am not comfortable making that assumption.”

  “What are you suggesting?” I asked, even though I
knew damn well what he was implying. My heart sped up and my breathing became erratic. He noticed. I could tell by the flare of his nostrils, the way he clenched the fist that was not holding the glass. Did he want to eat me? No, that wasn’t the right way to say it.

  “My offer to help still stands. I will protect you while searching for your sister. I already have a few ideas of where she might be, or at least of associates who will know of her, if she is in the city.”

  “And you’ll expect nothing in return?” I wanted his confirmation. I would not bind myself to a vampire. Not even a seemingly sincere one with gorgeous eyes and a chiseled jaw straight off a romance novel cover.

  “Nothing.”

  He lifted his hand, held it out in an offer to shake. I stared at it for long seconds before mimicking his action. He grasped my hand and held it for a moment, and just as I began to believe he was genuine, he lifted my palm to his mouth and, in the blink of an eye, used one of his fangs to slice first me and then himself.

  And then he clasped our hands together again.

  Chapter 4

  Even a hundred years ago when I had been human, I made decisions based on what I believed was appropriate or would improve my financial interests. I hadn’t been afraid to do whatever needed to be done to ensure my town was safe or my crops would grow.

  That personality trait, in fact, had been one of the reasons my maker handpicked me to rule the Chicago area covens. He turned me, and in less than a month, I was training to take over a rather prestigious position of power while I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I had become an immortal being.

  So it wasn’t surprising at all that I’d bonded Anya to myself without her permission. What was rather alarming about the situation was the fact I chose a blood bond rather than any number of other options.

  I could have easily proved her fears justified and glamoured her, or I could have simply arranged to have her watched. I had highly competent humans on my payroll to take care of any issues that might occur during daylight hours, and, of course, a plethora of vampires willing to do my bidding during those crucial hours at night.

  There was no reason to mingle our blood, to lift her palm to my mouth and lick while she stared with eyes so wide they very nearly encompassed her entire face. She tasted of wine and fresh earth and air and crisp grass and sunshine. She tasted like memories I haven’t allowed myself to wallow in for far too long.

  And she tasted of sex. Not virginal, though, which would have put off some vampires. There was something about virginal blood that stirred something deep in a vampire’s soul, or what passed for one. It was the reason the idea of blood courtesans had been created.

  Me, I wasn’t picky. Humans were necessary for survival, and I’d indulged in my fair share of courtesans, some virgin, some not. My preference tended to lean more toward willingness and desire to stick to the rules we’d laid out for the relationship. The one time I ended up with a sappy, clingy courtesan was the last time. I very nearly changed the woman just to do it, just so she could see what an obnoxious brat she was being.

  I enjoyed one more lick before allowing Anya to have her hand back. The slightest tremor shot through my arm when I released her. I wanted to feed—and to indulge other desires as well—but I had never taken blood or sex from an unwilling partner, and I wasn’t about to start now.

  That little blood bond notwithstanding, of course. That, I reasoned, was a matter of her safety.

  She stared at the closed wound, at the white, puckered scar for long moments before lifting those large expressive eyes to me.

  “Why’d you do that?” The suspicion was a palpable thing in her voice. This was no naïve country bumpkin. For some reason, that excited me further.

  “Would you prefer the sugar-coated version or the entire truth?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “The truth.”

  I didn’t understand my fellow brethren’s taste for innocence. Anya’s inexperience with my kind was overshadowed by her natural confidence and spark, and was far more alluring than dealing with a young woman who would do and say whatever I asked. Or demanded.

  “I’ve bonded you to me. This way, I can sense you, where you are, possibly even when you are in danger. As much as I would be pleased to do so, I know I cannot realistically keep you by my side for every second of every day and night. This way, during those moments we are not together, I will still know you are safe.”

  She pulled her hand off the table and rubbed it against her jeans. Such lovely jeans. Not an expensive name brand, yet they fit her rounded ass like a glove, made walking behind her a special treat. What I wouldn’t give to peel that denim away from her skin so I could stroke her, lick her, taste her. One of my favorite areas to take blood was from a woman’s soft inner thigh. Hers, I suspected, would be softer, smoother, than any other I’ve experienced. And I’ve had a great deal of experience.

  “You aren’t helping to change my impression of vampires,” she said, slapping me with a dose of guilt for making such a decision without her consent. What an unusual sensation.

  I bowed my head in acknowledgment. “You are right, and I apologize. I have a tendency to make decisions without seeking approval from others. A side effect of my position and my own personality, I’m afraid. I will endeavor to ask you in the future, should I need or want anything from you. You have my word.”

  “For what that’s worth.” The words were muttered under her breath.

  “Vampires have exceptional senses, Anya.”

  Her big blue eyes widened. Maybe she would be more careful with her slights against my character in the future.

  “I will regain your trust. Or gain it in the first place. I admit, it is strange to even be concerned with it one way or the other.”

  “People don’t normally trust you?”

  “I don’t normally care if they do.”

  She snagged her wineglass and took another gulp of the fortifying liquid. The scent of her arousal grew stronger. The image of myself crouching between her legs, of bringing her to climax with my tongue and fingers before sinking my fangs into her thigh was so powerful I had to drop my hand to my lap and massage for a few moments to ease the ache in my balls. Her gaze dropped and I knew she realized what I was doing by the blush creeping up her cheeks. Maybe she would rather witness me pleasure myself until she could not resist crawling over me and taking me into her mouth. Then I’d turn her around so I could drink from her while she brought me to orgasm.

  Christos, if I did not get a handle on this bloodlust, I might very well lose it right here at the table, making a mess in my pants and a fool of myself. I glanced at Julie, leaning on the bar, playing with her phone. I could excuse myself, head over there and ask her to meet me in the backroom. I had every confidence she would allow me to bend her over, to take her from behind, quick and dirty sex strictly for the purpose of seeking a release. I would return so quickly to the table that Anya would never suspect the purpose for my brief absence.

  The idea, rather than excite me further, dampened my arousal.

  How utterly fascinating. And not healthy, since I needed to feed soon, and at the very least, find a place where I could wrap my hand around my cock and release some of the pressure.

  “If it helps, now that we are bonded, glamouring loses its effectiveness. One less thing for you to concern yourself with.”

  “It doesn’t help.”

  I didn’t like this feeling that I’d somehow let her down. She was nothing more than an attractive human—probably made so only by my need to feed. I should not care what she thought of me. I should not feel the desire to ensure her impression of me improved. And I certainly should not be...

  “Come home with me.”

  Those expressive eyes widened again while her entire body tensed. No doubt she read into my words, but was she considering taking me up on the offer her own mind implied I’d made?

  “My home is also my office. I have files, maps, information on my computer that
will help us find your sister. And my associates know to seek me out there. They may already be waiting there to deliver news of your assailants.” That wasn’t likely, though. If they’d been accosted already, Davos would have sent me a text, letting me know he was taking them to the old warehouse I owned on the river and maintained expressly for the purpose of holding or interrogating those who crossed me. It hadn’t seen much use lately, but I suspected that was about to change.

  “The idea of being alone with you makes me nervous.”

  I lifted one brow, waiting for her to explain. Was she afraid I would hurt her? Based on the sensation pulsing through our new bond, I didn’t really think so.

  Staring straight into my eyes, she said, “This is going to sound weird, but ... I’m attracted to you.”

  I chuckled. “That is not weird at all.”

  Her gaze narrowed before dropping to glare at her wineglass. “It’s weird for me. I hate vampires. Have since I was six. For obvious reasons.”

  “Tell me, given what happened to your aunt, what provoked your sister to seek out a position as a courtesan?”

  “Abby was four when it happened. She was sleeping. My parents didn’t talk about it much, when she was growing up. She didn’t even know my aunt, since she was so young when she died. And Abby always despised her life. She hated living on the farm, taking care of the animals, harvesting the fields. She hated the idea of getting stuck there for the rest of her life.”

  “But not you?”

  Lifting and dropping one shoulder, she said, “Not really. I’ve never minded it. It’s what my parents do, what their parents did. Just figured it would be what I do, too.”

  Fascinating that once upon a time, we’d had the same goals and expectations in life. And now, a hundred years later, I lived in a city, ran the vampires who resided there, and she was trying to save her sister from some preconceived concept of what she thought being in that same world might be. And she, like me when I was first turned, fully expected to return to her country roots after she’d seen to her objective. It had taken me a decade to lose the resentment I’d felt at having been torn from my life and thrust into such a foreign world.