Blood Born Read online

  Chloe got up, restlessly pacing around the small space of her bedroom. If she stayed, were her parents any safer? No matter what Luca said, yes, if one of the vampires dragged her mother in front of her and offered to exchange her life for her mom’s, she’d do it. And if she stayed, would they perhaps concentrate more on catching her here, and not in locating any of her family members, who, thank God, lived hundreds of miles away? Could she be the rabbit on the racetrack, keeping them chasing after her instead of hunting her family?

  Blood and sex. She could bear the idea of giving him her blood, and taking his, easier than she could think of having sex with him. Blood was just blood. Sex would mean too much. He’d gotten to her, not just because of the physical attraction but in ways she didn’t want to admit, and having sex with him would tear all her emotional defenses down.

  And if she did, then what? He was a vampire; he wasn’t going to hang around after this uprising was over. What could interest him in her? He was God only knew how old, while she wasn’t even thirty yet; their experiences were, literally, aeons apart. She hadn’t been good at history in high school, while he’d lived it.

  So he would move on, and she’d be left here, something inside her always longing for him, measuring the men she knew against him and they’d always come up short, because how could they not? They would be bonded, she and Luca. She would always yearn for him.

  Did that mean he’d yearn for her, too, at least physically? She hadn’t missed how deeply reluctant he’d been to even offer bonding as a means of helping her through this. He said he’d bonded with a human woman once before; even if he’d done it for reasons other than love, such as now, evidently the link was very strong and ended only when the human died. It must be emotionally wrenching, to have such a deep connection and then to have it severed so abruptly, so finally.

  She had never before had such a deep sense of transience. In comparison to his life, hers was on a par with a fruit fly, short and inconsequential.

  She took a deep breath. It was time for brutal honesty. Yes, she wanted to have sex with him. No, even that was wrong. She wanted to make love with him, something that was very different, but that offer wasn’t even on the table. She was more fascinated by him, with him, than she’d ever been before in her life, but circumstances being what they were she could never have any kind of life with him. She felt cheated, she felt outraged and bitter and, dammit, fucking angry about the whole situation.

  What were her options? Oh, yeah. Run and hide or bond. None of them guaranteed that she wouldn’t still be killed. Sorin and his band of merry followers would still be hunting her. Whatever life she seized now might be all she ever had.

  So what else was new?

  A strange sound caught her attention and she stopped her furious thoughts, her head cocked as she listened, identified the sound. It was running water … the shower. He was in the second bathroom, taking a shower.

  He knew what her answer would be, she thought bitterly. He might not know all her reasons why, but he knew the end result. An angry tear streaked down her face as she got up and went into the master bedroom’s connecting bath to take her own shower.

  When she was ready, she unlocked the bedroom door and stepped out. He was in the living room again, because she could hear the television channels flipping as he gave the remote a workout. She hadn’t gone to any effort to make herself look attractive, hadn’t put on any makeup, had simply dragged a brush through her hair. She was dressed, though, in a long-sleeved white blouse and a simple black skirt—not the stylish pencil skirts she wore to work, but something fuller, which better met her requirements.

  She sucked in a steadying breath, then another. She could do this. Bracing her shoulders, she went into the living room.

  He was dressed as before, but his long hair was still damp, and brushed straight back. The only light was from the flickering television, washing over the clear, cold lines of his face, highlighting here, leaving deep shadows there. Chloe stopped at the end of the couch and stared at him, seeing a sort of lethal menace in him she hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t directed at her, it was no more and no less than a part of him, like his eyes, or the shape of his hands. The realization brought a sharp awareness that while she knew what he was, she didn’t know who he was, and she was still about to begin something with him that couldn’t be undone. There couldn’t be a breakup, or even a divorce. There was no new beginning. This was literally till death do us part, minus the marriage.

  “I’m ready,” she said bluntly.

  “Are you?” He wasn’t being sarcastic; he even sounded concerned. He turned off the television and got to his feet. The room was dark now, but enough light still spilled from her open bedroom door that she could see him as he abruptly loomed over her, so close she could feel his breath.

  She didn’t answer.

  “Chloe …” He said her name softly, little more than a breath of sound, and gently he stroked his hand down her arm, from elbow to wrist. “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, the sound rich and deep. “I won’t hurt you. I’ll take your blood first, then give you my blood. I won’t drink much, and I won’t let you take too much.”

  “What would happen if I did?”

  “You would become a vampire.”

  “How much is too much?”

  She could feel his sigh, one that felt laden with sadness. “It varies from human to human, vampire to vampire. The size of the human, the strength and power of the vampire … it all factors in. Bonding takes place with the exchange of a certain amount of blood during sex. A human is turned to vampire at whatever point the vampire blood overwhelms the human blood.”

  She considered all that, for just a moment. She was what she thought of as normal size, though on the slim side because she had to keep her blood pressure down, due to the aneurysm. Was he a strong and powerful vampire? She thought he must be, not just because of the two battles he’d fought in her behalf—and evidently won—but because of that indefinable something she could sense in him, that frisson of power that leaked off him like electricity humming along a power line. “Is sex necessary for that, too? Or just for bonding?”

  “Just for bonding. Otherwise, sex is optional.”

  “Optional,” she muttered, and didn’t voice her wish that it was optional in this case, too. “All right, let’s get it over with.”

  She turned and led the way back to her bedroom. She had already prepared by taking an old blanket from the top of the closet and spreading it over the bed, because she didn’t want to ruin her sheets. Wasn’t that a cheerful thought? She’d like to have a cheerful thought right about now, instead of being filled with this angry bleakness.

  As he entered the room behind her he turned off the light and she said, “No. Turn the light back on.”

  He paused a moment, then flipped the switch so light flooded the room again. Her jaw set, Chloe reached up under her skirt and slipped her underwear down, stepped out of the circle of cotton. “Just do it and get it over with,” she said. “No undressing. No kissing. No pretending. There’s nothing loving or romantic about this, it’s just sex. Sex and blood.” She could do this if she kept it on a purely physical level, and somehow it seemed important that she not be naked with him, that their only point of connection was genital, except for the biting part. She didn’t want his arms around her, she didn’t want anything except for this to be over.

  The overhead light threw deep hollows under his pale eyes as he studied her in silence. She didn’t know what he saw, but finally he said, “Lie down.”

  She hoped he couldn’t tell how she was trembling inside. She didn’t want him to see all the anger dammed inside her, or how hard she was fighting to keep all of this at a distance so she could still function. She didn’t meet his gaze as she sat on the edge of the bed, removed her shoes, then stretched out full length. Self-consciously she smoothed her skirt down, even though he would very shortly, of necessity, pull it back up.

  Luca stood beside t