Suzanne McLeod - The Sweet Scent of Blood

‘Thanks for the lecture.’ I started to edge to one side. ‘But really, it’s not needed. Believe me, I get all that PC stuff.’ The movement jarred my skull. I blinked away the pain, it wasn’t as bad now, so at least the spell was doing its thing. ‘Now, I’m just going to clear up my little mess and we can forget all about it.’

He sighed, the sound sliding wearily round me. ‘You are mine, Rosa. I cannot forget . Nor can I allow you to continue like this.’

Confused, I frowned. ‘What did you say?’

‘I have been informed you had become feral, Rosa.’ He ran fingers through his dark hair, pushing it from his pale, pretty face. ‘I did not believe it so.’ The black gem still pierced his lobe. ‘Until now.’

Shock raced through me, the hairs at the back of my nape standing to attention. Why was he calling me Rosa? Was it some sort of game? ‘My name isn’t Rosa,’ I said, grateful the words came out calm. ‘You’re mistaken.’

‘No mistake, Rosa. You are blood of my blood.’ The glow in his eyes flared, then snuffed out, leaving them empty obsidian pools. ‘I gave you the Gift of this life.’

I stared at him in horror. He thought he’d Gifted me? Why? This was just a spelled disguise ...

Wasn’t it?

Damn. Exactly what sort of black-market magic had I bought?

I shook my head, the pain almost gone. Stupid question. It didn’t matter, not right now. Digging my nails into the gravel, I swallowed back my doubts. ‘No, you’re wrong.’

‘Do not think to deny me,’ he said. ‘You may have gained your autonomy, but it is still within my right to destroy my own creation,’ his beautiful lips thinned, ‘should I feel it necessary. ’

So not what I wanted to hear.

He carried on, ‘Why did you leave your home, Rosa?’ He reached out, sorrow in his eyes, and brushed his thumb across my mouth. ‘Why did you leave your companions?’

My lips tingled, swelled. A shiver rippled through me, flooding me with need. Remnants of venom-infused lust swirled through my body, muting my pain with the anticipation of pleasure. I parted my mouth, touched my tongue to my lips and tasted rich spice.

‘I told you, you’ve made a mistake, I’m not your Rosa.’ But my voice sounded thin, uncertain, even to me.

He gave me a sleepy smile, leant in until he was just a breath away from me. ‘I know this body, how to raise it to ecstasy.’ Gentle hands clasped my face. ‘I know how to drown it in power.’ Heat pooled in my belly. ‘I know how to promise it pain.’

My lips trembled against his. My body knew what he meant, and it wanted that pain, would claw through hell to get it. Lost, I swayed forward, sighing against the coolness of his mouth.

He caressed my neck, traced the line of my jaw, pressed his thumbs against the pulse jumping in my throat. ‘I should rip this pretty head from its body,’ he murmured against my mouth.

Far away, deep in the back of my mind, a voice started screaming in panic. I shoved the voice away and listened only to the frantic desire thrumming through my heart. Needing to be closer, I moved to kneel between his legs and slid my hands around his waist, feeling the cool silk of his shirt beneath my palms and breathing in his dark spice scent. His hold on my neck tightened, and with a sigh, I lifted my mouth to his—

In one quick motion he took us both to our feet and slammed me back against the wall, breaking me out of my daze. ‘But first,’ he whispered, ‘you will tell me what has happened to this body’s true owner.’

‘I am not this Rosa.’ I choked the words out around his hold on my throat.

He tilted my face up to his. ‘Would you have me hurt you?’ His tone was soft, inviting.

An odd feeling spiked low inside me, tipped over into desire, and I wanted him, needed to fill myself with him. Closing my eyes, I stayed still, clenched my jaw and struggled to ignore the feelings ...

... struggled not to beg .

‘Or would you have me pleasure you?’ His hands skimmed over the swell of my breasts, teased me to aching tightness. Cool palms slid low over my hips, moulding my flesh, sending heat singing through my veins.

It’s not real . I shook my head against the wall. It’s only mesma. Rough brick scraped across my scalp raising a far-away pain. It’s not real. It can’t be.

‘No,’ I whispered, opening my eyes.

The sensations stopped, leaving me empty, yearning.

‘Ah. So she is truly gone.’ He kissed my forehead sadly. ‘Rosa could not resist my touch.’

Grief washed over me like a wave and spilled hot tears down my cheeks.

He bent his head, licked the tears from my face. ‘These are precious jewels, not to be wasted.’

My heart quivered beneath my ribs as his mouth met mine. His tongue invaded my mouth, slipping between my fangs, tasting me as though he was starving and I were a banquet for him alone. I welcomed him, drinking him down with a desperate thirst. His body shuddered under my hands, the echo of his heart thudded against my breasts, the solid length of him pressed into my belly sending me liquid and willing and eager and reaching for him to fill the aching urgent need inside—

He broke the kiss and I whimpered at the loss. He stared down at me with eyes bright with tiny flames. ‘You shall not keep this body.’ He bowed his head. ‘It should not exist without her soul.’

His words reverberated through me, shocking me back to my senses. He was going to kill me. No discussion. No offer of alternatives. No phoning a friend. Just dead. But he couldn’t kill me —a sidhe was too great a prize for any sane vamp to ever contemplate just killing. Only I wasn’t sidhe now, was I? I was just another sucker. Damn! How stupid was I? It wasn’t just the witches I’d been relying on for protection, it had been me, myself, what I was. And never mind what I’d always told myself about death being my first choice of options—

I didn’t want to die.

Malik’s hands slid through my hair, holding me still. ‘For you, Rosa, for your love.’ His murmur wrapped around me, tying me with the finest chains as his mouth moved over my jaw, lips trailing along my skin and cool breath whispered over my neck ...

I wasn’t going to let him kill me.

His fangs pierced my throat.

The pull on my neck was delicate, the sting diffusing into delight. The pull turned seductive as bliss spiralled through my body. His mouth grew more demanding, drawing pleasure and power and pulsing life from me. Shadows swirled like spirits around us, half-seen colours glinting in their darkness ... He was killing me ... his dark spice scent in my lungs, his beautiful lips taking my life’s blood at my throat ... Killing me with pleasure .

I wanted to live.

I dragged my trembling hands from him and flattened them against the wall behind me. I swayed forward, slumping against him, letting him take my weight and slowly, so slowly, felt behind me until I closed weak fingers round my knife.

Could I do it?

I hesitated on the edge of his pleasure, anticipating the plunge into ecstasy until, sobbing, I thrust the knife up between us towards his heart. His mouth at my throat spasmed and I screamed, shoving the knife deeper. He reared back, his eyes incandescent with shock and pain, his mouth stained crimson.

Clutching a hand to my neck, I stumbled back, my eyes never leaving his.

He dropped to his knees, spread his arms wide, called out to me, not with words, but with blood.

Blood of my Blood.

I hesitated, wanting to go to him as warm wetness streamed between my fingers, but I clenched my fist and took another step back. My foot caught on something and I stumbled, twisting, arms flailing to break my fall. I landed on my hands and knees, staring down at Gazza.