In the Company of Vampires

“We will keep our eyes open, as the mortals say, for signs of your mother, but there is insufficient evidence to convince us of her involvement with the death we are investigating,” was the watch’s final pronouncement.

“They are not very smart,” Imogen said shortly after we were released and had gone to her tent to tell her we were back. “Those watch! They asked me all sorts of impertinent questions about Benedikt’s involvement with the therions, as if he had something to do with the death. It was ridiculous, and I told that marble-faced creature that. Yes? Both of you? Excellent!”

Ben and I moved aside as Imogen smiled at a couple who had come to have their rune stones read.

What did the watch guy mean when he said there were other resources open to members of the L’au-dela? I asked as we fought our way through the dense crowd of people, stopping briefly to check that Mom’s stand hadn’t been tampered with. Since I’d sold most of her stock, there wasn’t much of value left in it, but I didn’t want her coming back to a trashed stand.

A little pain squeezed my heart at the thought that she might not be coming back.

We will find her, Francesca, Ben said, pulling me into his arms as he stood at the side of the stand. He kissed my temple, then my eyes, and just like that the hunger was on him, pouring out of him to wrap itself around me.

Goddess! I clutched his shoulders as I planted my mouth on his, suddenly needing him more than anything. I don’t think I can make it all the way to Mom’s trailer.

Beloved, you must not. I won’t be able to resist you. Ben moaned as I moved my hand between our bodies, stroking him in a way intended to inflame his passion even higher.

You don’t need to. The booth is empty. . . .

Ben twisted to jerk aside the canvas strapped to one of the wood struts. I ignored the sound of rending canvas, my mouth still glued to his as he moved us into the dark confines of the booth. The noise and lights and dense pack of humanity flowed around our little hidden paradise, which was a good thing, because if anyone had bothered to lift that torn side of the booth, he would have been given an eyeful.

Feed from me! Love me! Now! I demanded, my fingers desperately trying to undo both his belt and his zipper, while at the same time trying to get out of my own jeans.

Ben, with a snarl, ripped my pants off, just ripped them right off my body. I stood for a moment, astonished by the fact that he could do so without hurting me, but as the warm, close air of the closed booth caressed my naked flesh, other, more primal thoughts claimed my mind.

I need you right now, I moaned, trying to help him get out of his pants. This second! You’re not fast enough!

You’re not making things any easier on me by thinking things like that. And that. Christ, Francesca! I’m not going to make it if you think about using your mouth on me like that! He swore into my mind, grabbed my behind with both hands, and hoisted me up onto the sales table. There was a tiny little tinkle of glass, no doubt from the couple of remaining bottles of understanding (the least popular item that Mom sold), spread my thighs, and surged into me with a strength that left me breathless.

For about three seconds. Then I pulled his head down to my shoulder, dug my fingers into the thick, tense muscles of his behind, and pulled my knees up to clutch his hips.

The sharp, hot pain of him biting me made me moan, but it was the sense of our spirits joining together, of our beings bonded as he both took life from me and returned it, that sent my soul spinning toward a climax I knew would rock my world.

Dimly, as if from a very long distance, I heard a familiar voice calling, “Goddess Fran! We have returned!”

“Bullfrogs! They’re back! Hurry, Ben, hurry!”

His mouth was hot on my flesh as he drank from me, his hips pistoning as I urged him on with thrusts of my own, wanting the physical completion but also that shining moment when we were truly one entity.

“Goddess? Didn’t Imogen say she was headed this way?”

The voice was louder. I sobbed my wordless plea into Ben’s mind as our bodies raced.

Bite me, he ordered.

What?

Bite me!

I didn’t stop to question that command. I nuzzled aside his hair until the tense cord of his neck was exposed, then gently bit.

A surge of ecstasy shot through Ben that was instantly translated to me, sending both of us over the edge. He lunged into me, his back arched, his mind and mine filled with an exquisite sense of rightness.

It wasn’t until we had managed to separate that I realized something was wrong.

Chapter 21

“Ow. I think . . . Ow!” Ben stood with the shredded remains of my jeans in his hands, his eyebrows raised when I reached behind me. “My butt hurts. I must have sat on something.”

“Goddess Fran!” The voice that bellowed was sufficiently loud to stop the nearby hum of conversation for a good thirty seconds.

“Oh, for the love of the moon and stars . . .” I stuck my head out of the torn side of the booth. “I’m right here, Eirik. And no, you can’t come in. Go to my mother’s trailer. We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.” I pulled my head back in, and glared at Ben, who stood laughing. “What is so funny?”

“Turn around, Francesca,” he said, making a twirling motion with his finger.

“Why? What did I sit on?” I turned my back to him, trying to peer over my shoulder at my own butt. “Whatever it is, it stings like the dickens.”

I felt the soft brush of Ben’s fingers, then a painful pinch.

“Hey!”

“It says ‘rstandi,’ whatever that is.” He held out a small piece of curved glass with a hand-printed paper label.

“Oh, goddess! I sat on one of the bottles of understanding. Ow! Ben!”

He chuckled again as he picked out the remaining bits of glass. “You aren’t injured badly, Beloved. Besides, there are benefits to having wounded yourself in such a manner.”

“Benefits? Are you nuts? You try sitting on glass and then we’ll talk about the bene—jumping Jeremiah!” His mouth was hot on my poor, abused flesh. “Ben! That’s my butt! You’re licking my butt cheeks!”

“I’m healing you,” he murmured against the swell of one cheek. “I would take my time over the job, but duty is pressing, so I will make this quick.”

I was torn between the pleasure of his mouth on flesh that was surprised to receive such attentions and shock that he wouldn’t mind at all healing me in such a fashion, but didn’t have time to dwell on such considerations. It took him only a minute to fetch a pair of pants for me, and by the time I returned with him to my mother’s trailer, the Vikings were lounging around telling stories about how many women they had on the train ride down.

“You are the lustiest ghosts I’ve ever met,” I said as I eyed the couch. A little smile hovered around Ben’s lips when I gingerly eased myself onto the cushions.

“We have had nothing but ale wenches since you sent us to Valhalla,” Finnvid pointed out. “Having mortal women who do not smell of hops is a pleasant change.”

“Change-of-subject time,” I said, relaxing when I realized my butt didn’t hurt at all.

As if I would let you go out with a sore ass.

“I’m at a loss as to what we should do to find my mother. You didn’t answer me before, Ben, because we were . . . er . . . distracted, but the watch said something about there being other resources—do you know what those are?”

“Yes. A professional diviner like Absinthe’s mentor would probably help, but diviners are dangerous, and I