Holly’s breath caught. “Then let’s move it.”
“Feed first.” But he didn’t give her his wrist.
Instead, he did something he never did . . . except with her. He leaned in so she could feed from his throat. Slender fingers curving around the side of his neck, a soft breath kissing his skin, her scent slinking around him like an affectionate cat.
His already rigid cock went stone hard when she sank her small fangs into his vein. To feed her, to care for her, it gave him so much pleasure that he knew he was in trouble beyond anything he’d ever before handled. He cradled her head to him regardless, glorying in the pleasure of the intimate blood kiss.
She took her time, sipping slowly rather than gulping and getting it over with.
When she did end the kiss, it was with a press of her lips against his skin. “Okay,” she said in a husky tone that stroked him just right, “maybe I could grow to enjoy drinking blood in some very limited circumstances.” A nuzzle against his throat. “Will you feed from me?”
Venom shuddered. “When we’re safe.” He wouldn’t take much, the act more about the offer and the acceptance than sustenance.
She nuzzled his throat again, small and fierce and strangely gentle with him. “I want to curl up and sleep.”
“Soon.” Forcing himself to break the skin-to-skin contact, he took a quick breath before rising, tugging her up at the same time. “We’re nearly there.”
They eased their way into a fast run, Holly moving more fluidly after the fresh injection of blood and food. Her distance from the abomination in the crib was also likely helping; the less strength she had to expend on fighting the alien energy from taking over, the more she had for herself.
The two of them made it to their destination just as true dawn cracked the world in spears of burning gold and brilliant red. That destination was a lodge deep within the trees. There were other lodges scattered through the forest, but all were far enough from one another that privacy was assured. Owned by the very wealthy, these lodges were winter homes meant for the skiing season.
The actual runs were a short distance away, which meant the forest around the cabins was thick, cocooning the homes in lush green solitude.
It so happened that the wealthy vampire who owned this lodge was part of Jason’s network of spies. Venom had once asked Raphael’s spymaster—a fellow member of the Seven—how he could be certain that a vampire who’d been so long in Michaela’s territory could now be loyal to Raphael. “Michaela has her moments,” Venom had said, “but she’s not evil for the most part, and she protects the innocents in her territory.”
“She also flays vampires alive and uses their skin to make purses,” Jason had replied, his wings blending in with the night as they stood on a Tower balcony on a moonless eve.
Shrugging, Venom had said, “Aside from that.”
Jason’s eyes had actually glinted with humor, the tribal tattoo that covered one side of his face an astonishing work of fine curves and dots. “Michaela ordered the death of a vampire our ally loved deeply,” he’d answered at last, the humor fading into a cool darkness. “It was not a deserved death—Michaela was capricious in giving the order and though she was apologetic in the aftermath, her remorse couldn’t breathe life back into the dead. Our ally and his lover were together for five centuries and devoted to one another always. He will never forgive Michaela for the loss, no matter how long he lives.”
It made more sense than a non-immortal—or even a young immortal—could ever understand. Love was a gift that came along rarely in their world, especially love so true that it lasted through centuries—that was beyond a gift. It was a treasure.
“Michaela doesn’t understand the depth of her crime,” Jason had added with spymaster quietness as his eyes tracked an angel with wings of peacock blue and emerald green who flew with Elena around the Legion skyscraper.
“She’s never loved that much, that desperately.” The passion in Jason’s voice was not a thing of fire, but of thunder, deep and potent. “She thinks he has gotten past it in the hundred years since the death. She has no idea that he sits every night at a table set for two and drinks blood in complete silence while looking at a painting of his love done three centuries earlier by Aodhan.”
Venom’s eyes went to Holly’s profile as she pulled back her hood and shot him a wild grin. And he knew. She’d never bore him, not through centuries and centuries and centuries. And if he won her heart, the fierce wildness of her would be endlessly loyal. He’d never, ever have to worry that she’d reject him. She’d drive him insane on a regular basis, but he’d be hers.
“We made it,” she said, but didn’t pad her way to the wide steps that led onto the porch fronting the A-frame structure. “You sense any danger?”
Venom shook his head, though she was the most dangerous thing in his world. “It’s safe to go in.”
Holly moved forward, stopping when he didn’t follow. “Come on, Viper Face.” Laughter in her expression, her hair rainbow strands across her face where it had escaped her braid. “Your eyes are pretty in the dawnlight, light green fire mixed with gold.”
No one but Holly had ever called his eyes pretty. Eerie. Striking. Unique. Yes. But never pretty. Not until her. “And you look like a unicorn kitty who wants to curl up and sleep.”
Sticking out her tongue at him, she ran up the steps and, after locating the hidden key exactly where they’d been told it would be, walked into the house. He ran after her in deadly silence. Once inside, they locked the door and—though need pounded at him—he told Holly to duck into the shower while he prepared something for her to eat. She needed more fuel. Her body was burning up what she already had too fast. He was certain she’d lost weight over the night, her cheekbones were so sharp against her skin.
“This ‘little winter cabin’ has at least three showers,” she told him after a short exploration, her eyes wide at the idea of such luxury. “You should use one, too. Jeez, some people are so freaking rich.”
Venom wondered when she’d realize he was rich. It made him smile to think of the gift he’d ordered her—she’d either shoot him when she saw it or she’d laugh in amused delight.
Because Holly would make it.
Showering quickly, he dressed in a pair of jeans and a black shirt with long sleeves that he folded back; clothes in multiple sizes had been left in one of the guest suites for those who might come through. When he went into the kitchen, he found it stocked with food as promised. Had anyone from Michaela’s court become suspicious about so much food in the home of a vampire, their absent host had a ready explanation: it was for the human mistresses he kept for blood and sex.
Nothing unusual about that. According to Jason, the women never knew that they were literally only conveniences as well as smoke screens. The vampire treated them with politeness and generosity for the time that they hung on his arm and, when it was time to part, he made sure they were in a good situation. “He uses them for cover,” Jason had said, “but his heart is never going to belong to anyone else. I think he lives only so he can wreak vengeance on Michaela through such methods as are open to him.”