Chapter 448
Everyone followed Katelina's gaze with equal surprise, as if they'd forgotten about the Russian.
"That's right," Loren said. "We found him raiding a closet full of computer stuff. He kept disappearing, so we had to give up when the sun rose. Once it went down we caught him trying to get out. He's a phantom."
"I guessed that." Jorick moved toward Boris, using a discarded garment to clean Micah's blood from his face and hands. "You were with Malick?"
Boris seemed to flicker, then turned solid again with a pained expression, as if he didn't have the energy to keep it up. "Yes and no. I was a prisoner. Ask the human." His face flashed panic. "I mean, the used-to-be-human. She knows."
Katelina stood next to him. "He was in the cell with me. Malick has had him since before we killed Senya." Boris flinched and she cringed. Shit, she hadn't meant for him to know it was their fault.
"Why did Malick keep him?" Jorick narrowed his eyes, no doubt reading Boris' mind. Jorick's face twisted in fury and when he stepped away his lips were a thin, hard line. His tone was clipped and tight. "Put him with the others for now. He might be useful."
"Um, right." Loren hurried over and helped Boris to his feet. "What did you see?"
"Take him!"
Loren dragged Boris from the room. Micah stood and blotted his ruined face with Loren's hoodie. "Latew, Lun'."
Jorick didn't seem to notice. He stopped before Katelina and caught her chin in his trembling hand. "Look at me."
She swallowed hard and met his eyes. "What?" Though he didn't answer she could feel him in her head.
He broke the connection and dropped his hand. "You don't remember."
"Remember what?" When he didn't answer she repeated the question.
"Being tortured."
The words made her shiver. She knew what he was referring to and he was right. She didn't. "Only vague moments before and after, until I spoke to Boris in the cell. You're mad about the blood, aren't you?"
"What?" Then he seemed to understand. "The blood Boris gave you. No, little one. I'm not angry about that. It was seeing what Malick had done to you. I noticed your clothes but I was preoccupied, I didn't think what had caused" He broke off and forced a pained smile. "You're here. That's what's important."
He drew her to him and she closed her eyes. His familiar scent was overwhelming and she let herself drown in it. The disjointed memories from the night before played through her mind; the comfort of his arms, his soft caresses as he stroked her hair and her back, his soothing voice as he promised her it would be over soon.
"Thank you," she murmured.
He tightened his hold. "You don't need to thank me, little one. Had I been here sooner-"
He trailed off but when she looked up she could see the rest shining in his eyes. The guilt was suffocating and she tried to drown it with a kiss.
His response was soft, gentle, as if she might break. His hand moved to cradle the back of her head. The other went to the small of her back, pulling her tighter, closer, as if he could meld their bodies into one.
She could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The beats mingled with her own until she couldn't tell which was his and which was hers.
His kiss turned hungry, and she returned it. Her hands moved over the muscled strength of his back. She could hear the thunder of his quickening heartbeat as she traced his backbone, then his broad shoulders. His breath hitched and he broke the kiss to gaze at her questioningly. She didn't understand, and he frowned.
"What?"
His voice was husky with warring emotions. "Are you-do you feel well enough-?" He scowled at his own weakness and crushed her lips with his. Her response apparently answered his question, and he released her to jam a piece of the shattered dresser under the sagging bed. Satisfied at the repair, he returned to lay her down. He knelt on the edge, as if testing that it would hold, then stretched out beside her.
When he only stared into her eyes she gave a nervous smile. "What?"
"I'm just looking at you." He brushed the hair back from her face. His fingertips grazed her cheek and sent little shivers down her spine.
"Do I look better now-" she couldn't say, "Now that I'm a vampire."
"You were beautiful before." He brushed a kiss across her lips, then her nose, and her forehead. "You've been beautiful since I first saw you."
Her argument disappeared when he claimed her lips. His hands moved over her as if he was touching her for the first time; traveling territory he'd never explored. Her nerves sang under his fingers, more sensitive than they had ever been. She could feel the lightest graze, his breath on her neck, the hairs on his arm when he slipped his hand under her shirt.
She reached for him. His skin was smooth beneath her fingers as she traced his naked chest and his flat stomach. He moaned into her mouth as she reached lower, to his belly button, the waistband of his trousers.
He pulled her pajama shirt open with enough force to send buttons pinging away. She gasped as he licked the fleshy curve of one breast then the other. He tasted the hollow between them, then moved on. An ugly scar ran the length of her stomach, and he kissed his way down it, like a ladder. Tingles of anticipation raced up and down her body. A low, heavy ache spread into her stomach, where it turned into a burning ball of want. She could imagine the taste of his blood; the spicy, salty mixture unique to him. Her thirst returned, not as painful as before, but just as urgent.
He stripped away her pajama bottoms and ran his hands over her naked legs. She shivered and opened herself for him. He drew teasing lines on her inner thigh with his thumb, then moved to the patch of golden curls. Her skin screamed for his touch, and she reached out with her senses. When he brushed her aching center, a thousand lights exploded behind her eyes. She arched her back and grasped for him, desperate for more.
He dipped his hand between her thighs and she gasped as he found the center of her desire. He played her like a violin, stroking, strumming, faster, slower until her moans took on a musical pitch of need. It wasn't just the physical act she wanted, but something more. Something-
She cried out as a climax racked her body. At the sound he gave a low growl of desire and kissed his way up her. He paused at her lips to pull his pants off, then slid his hard, naked body against hers. She wrapped her thighs around his waist and he shifted into position. The press of his swollen need throbbed against her core and she urged him on with her hips.
He held her face in one hand and forced her to meet his eyes. "You belong to me, Katelina. Don't ever doubt it."
Before she could reply he thrust into her. Her body eagerly welcomed him, and they moved together. Though the motion took the edge off her desire it didn't quench it. She wanted more, needed more. The longing burned through her until her teeth ached. She bit her lip. The blossom of blood on her tongue ignited the fire in her throat.
Jorick gave a soft, low growl and bit into her shoulder. She tightened herself around him, as if she could pull him closer, deeper. The world wavered, smeared, and pleasure radiated through her. It was sharper than usual, and it didn't rob her of her reason like it had other times. She rode on crimson colored tides, aware of each thrust, each touch, and ached for more, for the final earth shattering moment when nothing mattered but the fireworks igniting around her; the moment only Jorick could give.
Her wanting mouth found his shoulder and she bit. Her new fangs sliced neatly into him and his hot blood bubbled through the holes. Instinctively she sucked, pulling it into her mouth. Salty, sweet, spicy, like nothing else. Images and sounds rushed around her in a confusing jumble. Her mind instinctively reached for Jorick. She felt him like a throbbing beacon in her brain, blotting out everything else, caressing, soothing, claiming. Foreign thoughts felt like her own. He was hers and she was his, she would always be his. No matter what blood flowed in her veins. No matter-
The world shattered into a thousand shining colors. She rose and fell with the glittering shower and finally crashed back to the world. Jorick slid next to her and pulled her to him. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled deeply, as if he could breathe her in and hold onto her forever.
She licked her lips and struggled past the usual embarrassment. Biting, drinking blood, those things weren't normal.
He lifted her chin and met her eyes. "Katelina, that's the way it is now. That's the way-"
He broke off and she nodded. Vampires couldn't have children, and the men didn't climax the same as their human counterparts. The orgasm was through the psychic connection; the joining of bodies and minds. And blood. Always blood.
"There's nothing wrong with it," he assured her softly. "Why do you always look for something to be ashamed of?"
"I'm not ashamed, I'm just-"
"I know." She could hear the regret in his voice. "I should have waited until you'd had more time to adjust to everything. I was-selfish. I'm sorry."
She pulled away and combed the hair back from his face. "There's nothing to be sorry for. Unless you didn't want to-" she couldn't finish the sentence.
He caught her hand and squeezed it. "Of course I wanted you. I will always want you." He pulled her against him and cradled her in his arms. "I love you, Katelina."
"And I love you, Jorick."
