Rahenna doesn't want to be a wicked vampire bitch. But she can't help it. This lovely elder has been stricken with a mysterious infection. As "out of sorts" as she is, Rahenna summons the will to provide protection for one of her fledglings recently turned mortal, the gorgeous Adin Swift, as he celebrates his first real birthday in over six hundred years.
It proves to be a very strange party, in a number of ways. After Rahenna and ancient vampire Rugh rout the evil undead trying to crash the birthday celebration, it's time for some sexual healing . . . vamp-menage style.
Publisher's warning: Intense, dark, and twisted...
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This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
K. Z. Snow
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2008, 2014 K. Z. Snow
Rahenna was in the middle of feeding from a young, succulent, muscle-bound fisherman on Pico Island in the Azores when she felt a strange tugging at her blood vessels, en masse, as if they were a net being pulled from the sea. Veins, arteries, capillaries all seemed on the verge of popping through her pores. Stiffening, she removed her lips from the man's throat and let out an agonized groan as the insistent tugging continued. The man likely thought she was climaxing, since his cock was buried deep within her body, pounding away like a pestle.
She almost had achieved climax, but this intensely disturbing sensation had quashed it.
Blood trickled from three small punctures her sharpened nails had made in her lover's neck. A few drops fell on Rahenna's chin. The rest formed a scarlet slick just above his collarbone. Instinctively, she licked his skin. It was something she normally did with unrestrained relish. Yet, at the moment, the act almost made her nauseous.
The twisting, churning ache within her body continued, pushing her to the brink of hysteria. The feeling was not only distressing, but frighteningly unfamiliar. She simply couldn't fathom what was happening to her.
Still fretting and anxious, Rahenna was jolted by a keener sensation -- two blasts of pleasure-pain, centering on her nipples. It felt as if her breasts were being branded. Her body didn't seem to know how to respond. It alternately arched forward and shrank back, her spine bowing first one way, then the other. A quavering whimper crawled up her throat. It spiraled into a broken cry.
What was going on? In all her centuries on earth, she'd never experienced such a physical onslaught, such a tangled, thorny mass of stimuli.
Unbearably tight, her nipples burned. Moisture seemed to spread across her breasts. They felt swollen, throbbing. Suddenly, her body thundered into orgasm, its power arching her neck and driving her head into the pillow, stiffening her limbs. Her fingers, curling into claws, grasped the sheet beneath her as if she were about to rip it from the mattress. As she gasped for breath, she heard the man expel a low, chuckling sigh.
"Maravilhoso," he breathed as he withdrew his spent cock. Kneeling between her thighs, he simply stared down at her. Then he tilted forward, locking his arms and flattening his hands on either side of Rahenna's shoulders. On all fours now, caging her with his burly body, he kept regarding her. Lifting an arm, he swiped a callused finger against one of her peaked nipples. "Maravilhoso."
Rahenna flinched. The grazing touch was like a bee sting. Her nipples were still extremely taut and as sensitive as if they'd been flayed. She rolled onto her side to discourage further play. The man didn't move, though. He seemed to like looming over her and keeping her trapped.
At the moment, Rahenna didn't care. Her brain seemed to be dancing in her skull. She couldn't seem to still it enough to focus on anything. She felt drained of energy, although she was vaguely aware of stray orgasmic contractions pulsing erratically between her legs.
She struggled to comprehend what had happened. First the inside of her body was assailed by a force she didn't understand. Then the outside of her body was assaulted. Or, at least, it felt like an assault, definitely more violent than passionate.
Gradually, her racing heartbeat slowed. Her mind quieted and cleared. A strong urge to weep momentarily displaced any physical discomfort. Rahenna fought against the urge, not wanting to alarm her lover, not wanting to invite unwelcome questions.
Now she understood, at least, what that initial sensation stemmed from. One of her children had reverted. There was no doubt. One of her children had just become mortal again.
Still sweating and breathing heavily, the swarthy man who'd just fucked her as he ravaged her breasts finally flopped onto the mattress. He lay at Rahenna's back. His name, she suddenly remembered, was Inigo. The odor of cachaca, a local brandy, drifted up from his damp skin. She wondered if there were any lingering traces of blood on his throat, then wondered why it should matter. Blood wouldn't pique his suspicion. He was a brute. In his mind, drawing blood was likely an integral part of any carnal encounter. Besides, the tiny wounds she'd made were concealed within his whisker stubble and would be gone in a day or so. When her nails sharpened for piercing, they were no wider than sturdy needles.
She didn't have to use fangs to feed. Her breed didn't have to bite to draw blood. The feeding wouldn't change him in the least, so Inigo would never know he'd nourished a vampire.
He rolled toward the nightstand to grab a pack of cigarettes. Rahenna's thoughts again gathered around her disturbing realization. One of them has reverted. But which one? And why?
Silent, Inigo indulged in his post-coital cigarette. Silent, Rahenna stared at the stucco wall a few dim feet away, waiting for her body to slough off the pain that still tormented it. Her breasts hurt like hell. If only she'd known when she encountered Inigo that his lovemaking would be so savage…
As Inigo contentedly smoked, Rahenna couldn't help obsessing over the reversion of one of her children. It was a rare occurrence, perhaps even rarer than death. And Pagan Breed vampires, who could function quite normally in the daytime, were not easily killed.
So, yes, reversion to a mortal state was rare indeed. Rahenna could still feel its aftershocks rumbling through her spirit. They made her queasy and somewhat disoriented. A vampire always felt the death or reversion of one of its children. There was no escaping the connection.
She wanted to be rid of the man who still lay beside her so she could concentrate on this peculiar turn of events, so she could train all of her natural and supernatural senses on it. Moreover, Inigo's rough handling of her flesh had made her develop a distinct aversion to him.
"You have wine?" Inigo asked in Portuguese-accented English. His baritone voice was laconic. His English was surprisingly good. Yesterday, he'd explained that he was raised on Terceira Island near Lajes Field, a military facility operated by the U. S. Air Force.
Rahenna glanced over her shoulder. "Of course."
He got off the bed, apparently to search for some, before Rahenna could stop him. She took the opportunity to go to the bathroom. Damn, her head and joints ached, and her breasts felt at once leaden and fragile. As soon as she flipped on the bathroom light, she turned toward the mirror.
"What the hell?" she whispered in horror.