THIRST (The Elite Book 3) Page 4

  He’s off the bed and across the room before I realise that he’s moved.

  “I’ve imagined it. Killing you. But don’t you see…” The violence in his eyes is pure agony. “I can’t kill you. I can’t give you to the darkness or whatever the hell is waiting for us after this existence. God can’t fucking have you. The devil can’t. I won’t allow it.”

  His head rolls back as he releases an angry bark of laughter. But there’s no humour in the sound. Then his eyes find mine again.

  “You’re mine.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Everette

  “Even the Mother can’t have you.” I square my shoulders defensively. “I won’t allow it.”

  “The Mother?”

  Farah climbs down from the bed, pulling a sheet around her as she moves towards me, but I pull back. I don’t trust myself with her. Not now. Not when I feel so completely out of control. Not when my thirst for blood is overwhelmed by a thirst for something else. A thirst for violence.

  “She wanted to send you to fucking Scotland.”

  I can see panic in her eyes. The silly little thing forgets to be scared of me when she damn well should, but the idea of going to Scotland… That terrifies her. Either that or she’s finally realised that I should scare her. That doesn’t seem likely though.

  “Don’t worry,” I say, my voice softening. As much as the vampire in me likes her scared, there’s another part that doesn’t. And somehow that smaller part keeps fucking winning today. “I said no.”

  “And she accepted that?”

  “She did.” I still can’t quite believe it myself. Perhaps the Mother has a soft spot for Farah or maybe it’s just her grief making her weak. Either way, I will not question it. Not if it means I can keep Farah.

  Even though I know I should keep my distance, I pull her into my arms. I’m less controlled than I’ve been in years. Unadulterated anger coursing through me. But I need her, the way she needs air to breathe.

  “So what are you going to do with me?”

  “Damned if I know.”

  She giggles. Actually giggles as if her life isn’t threatened by my mere existence.

  “Does this mean you’re going to change me?” I can’t hear anything in her voice that suggests that’s what she wants me to do.

  “Maybe.” It’s the closest I’ve come to saying yes. It might be the closest I’ll get to it too. I still don’t know that I want to change her. Even if I do love her. Even if she loves me back.

  Even if she is mine.

  She laughs outright at that. “We really do keep going round in circles.”

  “You’re not wrong.” I grin at her, as if this whole situation isn’t completely ridiculous. I’m standing naked, talking to a human about turning her into one of my kind. It’s not really something one usually discusses. Humans don’t get to have an opinion on their fate.

  But Farah does. Somewhere along the line, I started giving a shit about her opinion and I can’t pinpoint when exactly that changed. I lift a hand to her cheek, gazing at her in wonder. I can’t wrap my head around this.

  “What now then?”

  “Now?” I ask, my fingers dip to her collarbone, drawing lazily along her skin. She’s exquisitely soft. There are things we need to discuss, but not now, not when all I want is to forget all the bullshit and just enjoy her. “Now, I’m going to show you all the way you’re mine.”

  I back her against the bed, pulling the sheet away from her body and then reach down, my hand on the inside of her thigh. She trembles at the touch.

  Lowering her to the bed, I can’t help but ask her, “Do you want me to change you?”

  I’ve always prided myself on being decisive, knowing my own mind. But with Farah, I’ve not been able to make a single damn decision. Except Scotland. That was one decision I actually made. I said no to Scotland. That fact brings a small smile to my face. At least I haven’t completely lost my mind. I’m still capable of making choices.

  But I’m not the only one that’s been indecisive. She doesn’t know what she wants any more than I do.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I won’t do it,” I tell her. “I won’t do it until you want it.”

  “I might never.”

  Her words hurt me. It’s strange that an insignificant human can hurt me at all. I open my mouth to respond, even though I don’t know what I’m going to say to her, all the while my fingers are touching her. I allow them to circle her little nub, trying to buy myself time to think. I need time to process why it matters so much that she might never want to be changed.

  “I-I might never want that,” she says, her hands on my face, trying to force me to meet her eye. Silly fool, I was watching her the whole damn time. “But I want you.”

  Her lips crash against mine. The kiss is fervent, all bloody consuming, but she pulls away far too quickly.

  “I want you. Just you. I don’t want this life. I don’t want to be a vampire. I don’t want this damn house. I want none of it. I just want you.”

  Farah

  I don’t know why I’m telling him this. Surely, he already knows how I feel about him. I’ve told him I love him. And he didn’t say it back. I’ve made how I feel pretty damn clear. But I don’t think he understands.

  I’m never going to ask him to make me like him. I’m never going to ask for eternal life. If he gives me those things, it will be a means to an end. A means to being with him.

  He pulls his hand away just as I feel myself growing frenzied. I whimper against his mouth at the loss.

  “You want me?” he asks.

  “Just you.”

  “Then you’ll have me,” he growls, thrusting into me in one uncompromising motion. He fills me so completely that for a second I can’t think straight, my legs dangling off the end of the bed as he stands between them.

  Everette is power itself like this. Completely in charge. This house is his castle and I am his queen. Or at least that’s how he makes me feel. Like I’m someone he wants to worship, not the inconsequential human he says I am.

  “Everette!” I groan, reaching up for him so I can pull him down over me. I need his body cold and hard against mine.

  “Mine,” he murmurs in my ear as he moves with fluidity. It’s just a flick of his hips, and yet the power behind it drives him into me, making me want to scream.

  “Yours,” I manage to get out between gasps for air.

  He’s less controlled than before, and I love that I can do this to him. His eyes are swirling violet as he gives me what must be the hungriest look I’ve ever seen. He doesn’t ask for permission before sinking his teeth into my breast.

  “Everette!” I cling to the back of his head, holding him there as he sucks. I feel the blood depart my body and I tighten my grip around him. Arms and legs wrapping around him, claiming him as my own. The euphoria his venom offers me makes me as good as delirious and I can hear myself speaking, whispering things in his ear.

  I don’t know what I’m saying, mindless little things, but whatever it is, it drives him on as he drinks deeply.

  It doesn’t take long for my body to grow weak and if I had any sense, I’d warn him, tell him to stop, but I don’t. I don’t want him to stop. I want to be the one to quench his thirst. I want my blood to sooth his need for blood. My eyes shutter and I feel myself fall back against the mattress. The world is dark and empty except for him. I can still feel his body against mine. His weight, that is all that’s left.

  Everette…

  CHAPTER NINE

  Everette

  Gently, I lap my tongue against the wound, watching it heal. Farah is sleeping now. That wasn’t the plan. I’d planned to fuck her into oblivion, not drink her almost dry. Damn it.

  I’m still hard as I pull out of her. That didn’t go to plan at all. Frustrated, I settle back on the bed next to her and cover us with the sheets. She’s colder than I’d like, so I wrap the sheets extra snug around her before draping an arm over her and closing m
y eyes.

  I might not need to sleep, but right now, there’s nothing I want more than to sleep with her in my arms.

  My eyes are only closed for a minute and a half though before I’m interrupted by a knock at the door. No one enters or says anything through the wood, and I know that I have no choice but to leave Farah. No one other than the Mother would dare to disturb me in my bedroom.

  And as much as I might like to imagine the rest of the world has gone and fucked itself, all the problems I left outside of this room are still waiting for me. Kissing Farah on the forehead, I breathe in her scent. I love the smell of her, a perfect combination of her blood, sex and something that is purely her, all intermingled with my own scent. My dick twitches at the idea of my scent on her. It’s animalistic, a need for every creator on the face of the planet to know that this woman belongs exclusively to me.

  But I pull away and cross the room to my wardrobe, grabbing the first things my fingers touch. My eyes are still on Farah’s sleeping form as I pull the clothes on and then, still barefoot, I leave the room.

  The hall is empty, whoever knocked having already gone.

  I head down the stairs and into the living room. The Mother is there, sitting quietly in front of the fire. She doesn’t look up when I enter, merely nodding her head in greeting.

  “Sorry to disturb,” she says, “but we have work to do.”

  I settle on the sofa opposite her without a word.

  “If someone is trying to overthrow me, Farah isn’t safe here.”

  I hadn’t expected her to mention Farah. I thought she wanted to talk about work. About the rebellion or whatever Kirdem’s death means, but not Farah.

  “She stays,” I growl out.

  “You’re not safe here either.”

  “I can keep us safe,” I say dismissively.

  “I think we need to increase security, and not just here. All the royal households.”

  “Mother, that’s…”

  “A lot. I know. But I don’t see how we have much choice.” Her body is rigid. While I’ve been upstairs enjoying myself, she’s been sitting here worrying about this. “Do you have any idea who might want to…”

  “To rebel?” I ask. “None. I’ve thought about it. I’ve asked Hestin to look into it, but I can’t think of anyone. We’ve maintained peace for…”

  “For a hundred years,” she finishes for me with a small smile.

  “There should be signs, stirrings. Rumours. But there’s not. There’s been nothing.”

  It’s frustrating. I’m not used to feeling so damn useless. I hate not knowing who my enemy is. If I knew, I could destroy them. I could protect Farah and the Mother and even Malfas. But I don’t even know where to start.

  “If they come for you and find Farah…”

  I shake my head. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to think about what they might do to her.

  “She’s your only weakness. Do you realise that? There’s nothing else they could use against you.”

  “That’s not true.” I can think of several things that could prove to be my weakness. The Mother for one. My damn loyalty to her.

  “You need to change her.” There’s an urgency in her voice that I don’t like.

  “That didn’t save Kirdem,” I growl out.

  It’s unkind, and I don’t relish the way she flinches.

  “She needs to be able to defend herself. You won’t always be there to protect her.”

  “I will,” I tell her. “I won’t leave her. Not for a second.”

  “Are you going to lock her in this house? She’ll hate you for it.”

  “Then she’ll have to fucking hate me, because I’m not letting anything happen to her. She’s mine.” My tone is angry, brutal even. I’ve never spoken this way to the Mother before. Only Farah could draw such a violent reaction from me.

  “Everything is different when you find your mate,” she murmurs. “You saw it today with Malfas. They didn’t care for my children, the ones they swore to protect, because they were too consumed with their need to protect one another.”

  I want to tell her that she’s wrong. That Farah isn’t my mate. That I don’t even believe in that bullshit, but there’s a sinking feeling in my gut that tells me she might be right. One I refuse to pay any heed to at all.

  “I understand them,” she continues. “It’s the same reason I slaughtered half of the Scottish elite after Kirdem died. I needed to make someone pay for taking him from me.”

  Immediately, I imagine Farah dead. I picture her corpse, like Kirdem’s and I know as much as I’m loathed to admit it, I’d probably do the same. I’d kill everyone within a five-mile radius just to ease the unending fury I’d feel at losing her.

  “You need to accept your feelings for her. Only then will you be able to control them.”

  Our conversation drops off as we hear a car coming down the drive. The Mother is immediately on alert, but I sit back unconcerned.

  “It’s just Hestin,” I tell her.

  “And you’re certain he can be trusted?”

  “As certain as you are about me.”

  “Not much then,” she teases, and I’m grateful that the tension has momentarily broken. We both laugh softly at that, both of us knowing that her words are untrue.

  Hestin doesn’t bother to knock on the front door, letting himself in.

  “Does he usually just let himself in?”

  “No. Not normally.” I get to my feet, move towards the door, and open it just as Hestin falls into the room. “What the hell happened?”

  I just grab him before he falls to the ground. I carry him across the room and lower him onto the sofa that I was just sitting in. He’s covered in blood, but I can’t see if it’s his own.

  “SYBIL!” I shout for my housekeeper and she comes running.

  Her eyes are wide when she sees Hestin, and she’s already pulling up her sleeve when I say, “He needs blood.”

  She offers him her wrist without hesitation and he grabs it, his fingers tight on her white skin, before he bites into her vein. I leave the room, going to close the front door, seeing as how I can’t question him while he’s drinking.

  He’s more alert when I return, and like the polite man that he is, he actually thanks Sybil. I feel almost like a proud father that I don’t have to chastise him for playing with his food.

  “It’s an honour, Mr Hestin,” Sybil says before lowering her sleeve back over the quickly healing wound. Her gaze moves to me. “Is there anything else you need?

  I shake my head, but then as an afterthought I ask, “Can you check on Farah?”

  “Of course, sir,” she says before leaving the room.

  “Tell me what happened, Hestin.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Farah

  I wake with a start. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Everette was trying to kill me. My head is still a little fuzzy as I climb out of bed. There are clothes waiting for me on a chair, so I make quick work of dressing.

  My stomach grumbles, but I’m not sure if it’s safe for me to leave the bedroom now. Everette never said, and I’m not sure I want to risk running into a couple of unfriendly vampires, just so I can go in search of food.

  I jump slightly when I hear a gentle knock at the door, just as I’m pulling a jumper over my head. Nervously, I open the door to find Sybil smiling at me as if I haven’t spent most of the day hiding in Everette’s bedroom.

  “You must be half starved!” She says as she takes my hand and practically pulls me from the room. She’s a lot stronger than she looks.

  “Is it…” I begin awkwardly.

  “Oh, the visitors from earlier have gone. You’ll be perfectly safe with me in the kitchen.”

  “Where is Everette?” I ask as I follow her down the stairs.

  “He’s dealing with a little problem in the living room. I’m sure you’ll see him soon enough.”

  We pass the living room door and I’m tempted to go in, even though I kn
ow Everette is busy. After everything that Jessamine said this morning, I have about a million questions. And for once, I fully intend on getting answers.

  There’s blood on the door handle. My eyes widen in horror and I nearly ask Sybil what problem Everette is dealing with. But I’m not stupid enough to think that she’d actually tell me. One thing I’ve learned about Sybil is that she’s incredibly loyal to Everette.

  “Oh dear! I’ll have to get that cleaned up,” Sybil says, tutting under her breath. “Trust Hestin to make a mess.”

  “Hestin?” I ask as we continue down the corridor towards the kitchen.

  “One of Everette’s closest colleagues. He was rather indisposed when he arrived a few minutes ago.”

  “Can vampires be indisposed?”

  “He certainly appeared to be when he as good as collapsed in the doorway. Quite a fright, I’ll tell you. It’s a good job you were upstairs. You would have been quite terrified.”

  I’m not sure if I should be offended. Personally, I think I’ve handled all of this with a buck load of courage, but I don’t tell Sybil that. She seems to notice my annoyance though, because she gives me a pat on the shoulder as she circles around the kitchen counter to prepare my meal.

  “Not that you aren’t doing miraculously well, dear. It’s just he really did look dreadful.” She doesn’t look at me as she plates up the stew that she has boiling on the cooker. “I remember when I first realised that my father wasn’t completely balmy.”

  “You thought your dad was mad?”

  “Wouldn’t you? He kept telling me his employer was a vampire.”

  I try to imagine how I’d have reacted if one of my parents had told me the same. But honestly, it’s just too insane.

  “He’d said it so often, I thought it was a euphemism or something. I thought he was just telling me that Everette was an evil so and so who worked him to the bone. So, when he wanted to retire, and he told me the truth, I absolutely thought he’d lost his trolley.”

  She puts a plate of food in front of me at the breakfast bar.