Keeper of the Dawn

“Elven have no fear of such things,” she assured him.

“Ah, fearless Elven,” he teased. Their mouths melded again. Her shoes, his shoes, hit the floor, and the rest of their clothing soon followed, until at last they lay together as she had craved, flesh to flesh. They tangled breathlessly in a long and lasting kiss, and when his lips broke from hers, they traveled her body restlessly, moving over her throat and brushing slowly against her shoulder. His kisses poured over her breasts and rib cage and abdomen. She burned and writhed against him, amazed at the strength of the need ripping through her. How long had it been? She didn’t know, didn’t remember, didn’t care. She had tended all through her long life to be discriminating; she’d seldom indulged in affairs. But here he was, majestic and beautiful, and when he smiled...

This was more than just physical need. She ached to touch more than his flesh; she longed for everything inside of him. She could read minds....

She wanted to read his soul.

He was a consummate and inventive lover, taking his time, taking luxurious care, kissing, caressing...making love in a way she hadn’t thought possible. He knew where to touch, how to touch, where to kiss, when to tease...and when to become so intimate that she felt as if the wonder inside her would boil over.

And then he would bring her back down ever so slightly, giving her the opportunity to touch him in turn, to press herself closer and closer, to bathe his shoulders with kisses and serenade him with moans raggedly drawn from her lips.

His body was solid, strong and vital. His lips laved her abdomen, traveled lower and teased between her thighs until she thought she would go mad.

And then he was above her, in her, and her arms were wrapped around him. She stared into his eyes and felt again that fire blazing through her with a wild vengeance. She whispered incoherently, and felt the power of her own passion and desire as she responded to him. It was beautiful; it was incredible. He led her upward to a place she’d never been to before, and the carved forest around them seemed to amplify every sensation, make it part of the earth and air. She felt his movements, the sweet thrusts, the rhythm, and it was as if her world spun on its axis, making her dizzy with want. The pace of their loving grew frantic, stars seeming to blaze across the ceiling above her as she climaxed with a volatile shudder. She felt the rigidity of his muscles as he thrust deeply into her, and then held, and stayed, and finally lay carefully against her and pulled her to her side as they both cooled down and relearned how to breathe, still entwined, still together.

It wasn’t like her dream. It was better. It was real. And in the aftermath she drew strength from the wood of her bed and the walls of her home. She had wanted him—desperately. It wouldn’t have mattered if they hadn’t been here. But it was somehow better because they had been.

She lay against him, her cheek resting on his chest, still in awe of the experience. She was sure that she felt his heart hammering, even as she was certain that she’d felt warmth from him earlier. Vampires, she’d always heard, were cold. Their hearts did not beat; they did not breathe. They hungered; they did not love.

“I really do like it,” he murmured.

“Sex?”

“Well, yes, that, too—but I was thinking of your bed.”

“I’m glad.” Her fingers moved over his chest. “I can feel your heart.”

“Of course.”

“You’re a vampire.”

“My heart exists—why else would you kill a vampire by staking him in the heart?” He was stroking her hair, lulling her.

“Good point,” she murmured. “I always thought...”

“I know,” he said huskily. “It’s so easy to believe the myths, to think that what we know about those who are different from us is right.”

“I never had any negative assumptions about vampires.”

“Oh, you are such a liar,” he said, but his tone was light, and his fingers continued to move gently through her hair.

“I was aggravated,” she said.

“You were obnoxious.”

“I was...scared.” She sat up and leaned against his chest, seeking his eyes. “I knew what I was doing that night. I walked in with my eyes wide-open. I just didn’t suspect that—”

He caught her shoulders. “That’s just it. That’s where Brodie and I are ahead of the game. We’re cops. We’ve learned that you can never suspect everything that might happen, so you have to be prepared for everything. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think that we are invincible or infallible. But—”

“But I might have been fine without you. I am excellent at teleporting.”

He smiled. “I believe you. But admit it—you were really just pissed because you were scared and I saved your life.”

“That might have a hint of truth,” she said.

His smiled broadened. “I guess I’ll take that for now.”

She didn’t speak. She leaned low against him and they kissed.

Once again...

She hadn’t really suspected.

One kiss, that kiss. The room, the warmth of the wood around her—the searing heat of the man beneath her. One kiss, that kiss, and suddenly they were touching feverishly and making love again, until finally, exhausted and spent, she lay beside him in silence. Then, as he started to ease away, she bolted up. “The potion!”

Mark laughed, a husky, easy sound. “It’s all right. It’s only been two hours since we came in here.”

She looked at him, startled. “You know that?”

“I do.”

She leaped out of bed, heedless of her nudity, comfortable with it. She was an earth creature. In a different time, when people lived far apart and she had lived in dense woods, she had frequently walked around naked. Her body was a part of the earth, like the woods she loved so dearly, and she cared for it well. And with Mark...she felt an ease and a sense of comfort.

But she didn’t get very far, because he pulled her back.

“Hey—the potion.”

“Everything’s all right.”

“The potion,” she repeated firmly.

She left the bedroom and hurried to the kitchen. She lifted the cover and stirred the contents. The consistency was right. The tiny drops of her blood gave it a slight tint of mauve. She quickly turned off the heat and removed the pot from the range so that it could cool. She dug into the shelf behind the sink, finding the right size vials to hold the finished product.

She turned and saw that Mark was standing right behind her, already dressed, his holster in place. He slipped his jacket on, hiding the weapon.

“You look like a nymph. A glorious tall nymph. Really tall.”

“The nymphs might take exception to that,” she told him.

He grinned, reaching for one of the vials.

“No, no, get away!” she told him, batting his hand with a spoon. “I have to get this done.”

“I like you this way—I mean, I really like you this way,” he told her. “But I’ll fill the vials. You get dressed. We’ll rush one of these to the hospital, then I’ll take you back to the House of the Rising Sun.”

Alessande quickly ran to her room to dress, leaving him to his work. When she came out, he’d finished his self-appointed task.

She looked at the vials. “Good job,” she said.

“Hey, even I can pour liquid into a bottle.”

“You never know,” she said lightly, taking one of the vials. She swallowed the contents quickly, before he could stop her.

He immediately grabbed the vial, staring at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Why did you do that?” he