A Vampire for Christmas - By Michele Hauf Page 0,30
TELL ME ABOUT this Council,” Charlotte said, running her hand over his chest. “Who is on it and what do you do?”
“There are twelve North American regions, each with its own small Council. At the local level, we function like a court, deciding cases among our people and interpreting laws. Several times a year, the regions meet to make necessary policy changes and to carry out execution orders. We also meet periodically with our European counterparts.”
Charlotte shivered. “Does that happen a lot? The executions?”
“Given our aggressive tendencies, my people are more prone to violence and that requires a certain brand of justice. These laws have held our people together, kept our existence a secret from humans for many, many centuries. And although they might seem archaic at times, even barbaric, they’ve served us well.”
Charlotte was quiet for a while before she spoke again. “So, what does it feel like? You know…when a vampire takes a human’s blood?”
Trace stared at the draped fabric above their heads. It felt good to be talking so openly and honestly. Surprisingly good. He caressed the back of her hand. “My understanding is that it’s a sharp, stinging sensation as the fangs pierce the skin, but that the pain quickly subsides.”
“Is it clinical, where the person holds out their wrist, or is there something more?”
“It can be fairly clinical, yes. A quick sip at the wrist and the whole thing is over. But it isn’t always. Why are you asking? Being around us, are you worried that something might happen?”
Her hand stopped moving, resting directly over his heart. “Because I want to experience that with you.”
His pulse thundered in his ears. Surely, he hadn’t heard her correctly. “I don’t understand.”
“If my memories need to be taken, I want to leave something of me with you, even if it’s temporary.”
Stunned at this revelation, he considered it for a moment. Her lifeblood in his system, feeding him, nourishing him, giving him strength. Just thinking about it made him hard again, despite the fact that they’d just made love. “But I haven’t taken blood from a human host for a long time.”
“Good. Then it’ll be extra special for both of us.”
He rubbed the tip of his tongue behind his teeth, where his fangs were threatening to emerge. She wanted him this badly?
She reached between his legs and stroked him. He moved against her hand.
What would her blood taste like? Although she wasn’t a sweetblood, he knew it would taste sinfully sweet to him.
“If you don’t want to,” she continued, “that’s okay, too. I mean, if it’s against your beliefs and all that.”
“You mean now?”
“Yes,” she answered.
He almost laughed as he pushed on her hip. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in it—there was a reason his kind had the ability to wipe a human’s memory—but he had never wanted to be distracted by it. Taking blood from vials had always served his purpose. Until now.
She lay back for him against the bed, her eyes dancing with excitement. Would she find the experience as thrilling as he knew he would? Many found it pleasurable, which was why the lure of a vampire’s kiss could be so seductive.
“Are you sure about this?” As he tuned in to the beat of her heart, his fangs broke through his gums and he turned away slightly. “Don’t look, Char. It may frighten you.”
She held his face between her palms and stared at his mouth. “Trace, I find everything about you beautiful. Your body, your mind, your dedication, your passion. And yes, even this.”
And in that moment, he knew that he loved her. His aspirations of sitting on the Council suddenly didn’t seem as important as this amazing woman who thought this about him in spite of everything he was. Instead of his father’s admonishments ringing in his head, he remembered instead all of his grandmother’s talks as she gave him permission to be happy.
And being with Charlotte made him happier than he’d ever been in his life. She accepted him for what he was now, not what he could be or should be in the future.
With his tongue, he found the precise spot on her neck where his fangs would penetrate. Her pulse beat madly under his lips as it waited for him, her skin slightly salty. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She ran her hand up his arm, encouraging him to continue. “Yes, Trace, I am.” She spoke those words with soft conviction.
He wanted this, too. More than he’d ever thought possible. His teeth