Bound by Blood

Chapter 11

One month later

Opening night of Elixir

Gregor was doing his best to ditch the interviewer from Vanity Fair, but having little success. The guy was a human lamprey, hanging on him as Gregor worked the crowd, shaking hands and spreading euro-kisses around. They’d wanted to write a home lifestyle piece, until Gregor made it clear he had no home lifestyle. One glance at the two rooms in the back of Tangiers settled that question, and they decided to do a fashion shoot instead, which meant stuffing him in an Alexander McQueen suit and piling models slathered in white makeup at his feet. The piece was going to be called “The Vampire King of New York”. It was so easy to hide in plain sight. Some critics complained that vampire motif was passé, but Gregor knew that he’d laugh his way to the bank.

That shoot was appalling, but a small price to pay to keep them out of his personal life and away from Maddy.

It was true he had no home of his own yet, but he and Maddy had a temporary one at Alex’s place in Tribeca. Alex put great stock in amenities like throw pillows and area rugs, so it was the perfect place for Maddy to convalesce—safe, comfortable, and respectable enough for her family to visit. Which they invariably did first thing in the evening, before he’d even managed to make coffee. In the meantime, Alex lived at Tangiers, which he enjoyed all too much.

Gregor had a hard time hiding the smile that crept across his face whenever he thought about Maddy. He pictured her curled up on Alex’s couch in her pink velour sweat suit and fuzzy slippers, wan and brave. The last month had not been easy. The first week of her transition was terrifying for him and painful for her, but she never complained. Lately she was well enough to be restless, and of course she wanted to come tonight, so she was going to make a brief appearance. He hoped she wouldn’t overexert herself. Honey had volunteered to “style” her for the evening, which he supposed meant she would help her find something to wear to hide the battery belt.

“Gregor!” A Very Famous Personage, drunk as usual, flailed her way up to him and grabbed his arm. “You have to tell me the truth, the absolute truth. Are vampires real?”

“Of course, darling. Why would I create a club for them if they didn’t exist?”

“But where are they? I don’t see them.” She gestured at the crowd around them, dismissing five vamps without knowing it. “Introduce me!”

Inspired, he leaned forward and whispered a confidence in her ear. She turned to the Vanity Fair guy, amazed, and shocked into silence at the sight of her first vampire. The Vanity Fair guy, knowing only that he had her attention, turned on the charm. It was a match made in heaven.

Gregor made his getaway, and just in time, because moments later all the hair stood up on the back of his neck. The blood bond told him his mate was in the building.

He began to weave his way toward the entrance, hampered at every step by congratulations and introductions. Like an automaton, he smiled and shook hands and kept moving. He had to get to her. She was looking for him.

His brothers found her first. From the top of the grand staircase, meant for seeing and being seen, Gregor saw Mikhail bending over her hand.

Madelena. The sight of her took the knees out from under him. It always did, to some extent, but tonight—what had Honey done to her?

Maddy did not come incognito, she came in black leather. He took one step down the stairs and stopped again. Was that a corset she was wearing?

While he gaped, unable to believe what he was seeing, Alex ran up and kissed her, then picked her up by the waist and spun her in a circle. Maddy was laughing. Maddy was gorgeous. And it was about time Alex friggin’ let go of her waist.

The next thing he knew he was in front of her. Her black eyes, bright with gold dust and eyeliner, snapped at him—greeting him, but warning him, too. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Faustin.”

“How can I laugh when I can’t breathe?”

Her hair was piled up high on her head, exposing her delectable neck, which Honey had wrapped with a suggestive choker of raw garnets. Honey was an evil genius. Now every vampyr in the place would want her, he was sure of it. He began to pick them out in his peripheral vision, marking them for death if they moved on her.

Maddy was, in fact, wearing a corset—a long, leather one that molded her tits into two perfect half globes, almost as tempting as her neck. The intersecting lines of several white scars rose out of her cleavage. He wondered if she had noticed that the scars were fading by the day. His eyes wandered downward, admiring how the corset enhanced her hourglass shape, and then he saw the plug. It emerged from a shining steel grommet built into the corset and snaked its short way from her belly to the battery pack and controller. Ordinarily these things were housed in an ugly blue nylon and Velcro fanny pack, but it had all been transferred into a black leather belt that she wore low on her hips, like an ammo belt. It was insanely sexy. Below the belt, she was dipped in leather. When he realized she was wearing high-heeled boots, he went lightheaded.

“Gregor?” she said, her voice hesitant, but unmistakably husky. “Do you like it? Honey’s friend designed this just for me.” She slid two fingers along her power cable. The gesture was provocative, almost obscene. He lunged for her.

And she met him, her mouth as hungry as his, her rough little tongue darting and teasing. He ran his hands over the soft, yielding flesh of her back and shoulders, and then down, over the cool architecture of the corset, down to cup her divine, leather-clad ass.

Thank God.

Maddy had begun to fear that Gregor would never touch her like this again. In the last week or so she’d felt good, better than good, but he still saw her as an invalid. In their bed she would initiate a caress, but he would find some way to turn it into a hug. Gregor Faustin converted to a snuggle bunny. It was just wrong.

But she didn’t blame him. Sure, he said they couldn’t fool around yet because of doctor’s orders, but was that the whole truth? Having a gouge as deep as the Grand Canyon down the middle of her chest didn’t boost a girl’s self-esteem. So she decided it was time to take off her sweat suit and get her mojo on. She’d put in a call to Honey for help. Tonight, Gregor Faustin was going down.

Gregor broke the kiss abruptly and touched her cheek in concern. “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear it. “That was… Are you okay? This thing isn’t restricting your breathing, is it?”

“I’m fine.” If anyone needed coddling, it was him. He was too thin and jangled with nervous energy. “Did you feed tonight?”

“No time. It’s okay.”

Yet he’d fed her before he left home. Without thinking she raised her hand to caress the spot under his jaw where she’d drawn his blood. How strange it was still to want him that way. But she did. Every evening she woke curled up in the curve of his arm, sleepy but ravenous, and every night he gave himself to her without hesitation. With each warm swallow she took he offered her his power, his memories, and his dreams. This is me, his blood said every time, see how I love you?

Just remembering that powerful intimacy made her throat tighten, but Gregor’s mind was not in the same place. He could not even look at her for long without his eyes darting around. He was as wound up as he was closed down, and would not let her in his head.

“What are you looking for?”

“Lots of things. Where’d my brothers go?”

“You scared them off, coming down the stairs with that scowl on your face.” She sighed as he continued to scan the room. “Don’t worry. Mikhail will keep everything safe and Alex will keep everyone happy. Why don’t you show me your club?”

She’d only been inside Elixir once before that night, though she’d seen many pictures of progress on his laptop. It was an amazing place. She was so proud of him for making it a reality. Elixir wasn’t like any club she’d ever seen. He’d built a grand Belle Époque mansion inside a warehouse, or the framework of that mansion, at least. The club was made up of many lavish, interconnecting rooms decorated with mirrors, period furniture and tall potted palms. It was smaller than Tangiers, made for intimate encounters, not big scenes. There was no bar, just patrolling staff dressed as servants. But if you wanted something close to a big scene, you went up the grand staircase and into the crystal ballroom.

It was a fantasy of an age past, the last great age of vampires. “I wanted to make a space where even Mikhail would feel at home,” he had explained to her. “It’s not a kid’s club.”

Gregor held her hand hard as he led her away. All of his tension was in that grip. Elixir was already a success, and he knew it. She didn’t think he was worried about Elixir. It was worry for her that made up half his tension, and sexual deprivation and hunger accounted for the rest. It was time to beat some sense into his thick skull.

“Show me the train cars,” she said. “I want to see them finished.”

He stopped and gave her a serious look. The train cars were designed as a trysting place for vamps and their partners.

“There’s nowhere more private than that, is there?” Maddy gave him her best innocent smile. “We can have a toast, just us. A moment of quiet.”

He changed direction. She couldn’t believe he fell for it. The train cars were her favorite part of the club. Inspired by the Orient Express, a string of faux private train cars circled the mezzanine about the ballroom. They were VIP booths, essentially, private rooms for blood play. Each car had a curtained window from which you could look into other car windows, or down over the dance floor. “Riders” could share their activities with the wide world, or pull the tasseled curtains shut.

They were already in use. Maddy could hear voices and moans through the walls as Gregor led her down the narrow, gas-lit corridor that connected the cars. Through a door left ajar she saw a glimpse of a couple intertwined, and her desire flared. One thing she’d realized of late was that feeding without fucking was like eating an Oreo and skipping the cream filling.

When she fed from Gregor, all she wanted to do was straddle him, and take him deep inside. There was something irresistibly compelling about the idea of taking him both ways at once, about being linked at two points. She sighed with frustration, and her breasts swelled up, rising frighteningly close to her chin.

The corset was weird, but definitely a turn on—for both of them, judging by Gregor’s greeting. Already her nipples were hard and tender, tight against the leather cups. As an added benefit, it functioned to secure all her hardware, and that freed her mind.

Oh, please Gregor. Let loose.

The best car was reserved for the house. Gregor pulled a big gold key out of his pocket and showed it to Maddy with a smile. Once inside he locked the door and shut the drapes. The sconces gave off low, golden light. Maddy leaned against the flocked wall-paper, breathing fast and shallow, her knees wobbly with need for him.

“It’s perfect,” she said. “And very…cushiony.” Most of the narrow room consisted of a womb-like day bed covered with tufted red velvet.

He took a crystal decanter off a shelf above a tiny marble sink and poured them two glasses of wine. As he did, she noticed a knot of chain above her head. It was attached to a small winch on the wall. “What’s that?”

Glasses in hand, he followed the direction of her gaze, and swallowed. “It’s a restraining device.”

“For?”

“Some people prefer to feed standing up.”

Maddy raised her arms over her head and crossed her wrists. “Like this?” She batted her lashes at him.

“Here.” He shoved a glass at her. St. Gregor.

“To Elixir,” she said, clinking his glass. The wine warmed her throat, made her lick her lips. Her diet might be limited these days, but somehow everything was extra tasty. “I’m so proud of you.”

“To us,” he said. “And our future.”

She sidled close and slid her hand around the back of his neck. He went stiff, and not in the good way.

“Gregor—”

“Maddy,” he said, warning in his voice.

“Don’t you have first rights to this fine, puffy couch?”

“It’s too soon. Felix said—”

“I don’t give a good goddamn about what Felix said. I’m ready.”

Gregor put down his glass and took her by the shoulders. “Lover, only four weeks ago you died in my arms.”

That surge of real emotion softened him, and he opened his mind to her. It wasn’t that she heard his every thought, it was more like a subtle joining of hands, or an invisible embrace. They were together, and because of it, everything was better. He kissed her on the forehead.

Maddy reached up and loosened his tie. He didn’t stop her, so she began to unbutton his shirt as well. That he made a token gesture against, but she pushed his hand aside. “You asked me to walk into a new life with you.”

She stripped off his shirt and jacket at the same time, and yanked his undershirt over his head, ignoring his grumbling. What she paid more attention to was how fast he breathed and how he swayed on his feet. The man wanted to be seduced. It was not hard to push him down onto the deep, tufted velvet.

He groaned, and she knew it was a groan of resignation. He pulled her on top of him, and she got the kiss she wanted, long and deep.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured as he left her lips to work her throat. With a single click the heavy garnet choker slid off her skin and into the cushions. He nuzzled her bare neck.

Yes. She sunk her hands into his hair and held him tight. Yes, baby, you want to feed. She’d be damned if she didn’t feed him before they left this car.

Gregor skimmed his fingers inside the cups of her corset, found her nipples and teased them up until they poked over the tops. He ran his hands down her cinched waist and over her hips “I didn’t know they made librarians so hot.”

“It’s all for you.” She slid her hands under her breasts and lifted them out of the cups, offering them to his rough tongue and hungry, sucking kisses. Between her legs his erection was growing more insistent, and she circled her hips against it, imagining it inside.

Running his hands up the shiny leather on her thighs, he said, “Just how do I get into these pants of yours?”

Maddy smiled the smile of Eve. No way was he holding back on her once he saw this.

“Zipper,” she said, nipping his lower lip. Turning away from him on her hands and knees, she presented him with her rear. “There’s a tab at the small of my back.”

That was when Gregor realized the zipper that ran all the way from back to front. His throat went bone dry.

Holy Mother of God.

He found the tab and pulled. The black leather slowly parted, revealing her bare, sumptuous ass. That view was enough to last him a lifetime, but he kept pulling, and made another discovery. She’d been waxed.

“So how do you want me, Faustin,” she said over her shoulder. “Like this?” She waggled her ass. “Or like this?” She turned over, leaned back against the padded wall and spread her legs.

A barrage of images—him defiling her in every way possible—broke over his mind. They were her fantasies. All the different ways his filthy-minded wife wanted him.

Gregor couldn’t see straight after that. A fine sweat broke out all over his body. Okay. All right. His original plan of giving her a quiet orgasm wasn’t going to cut it for either of them. Maybe it would be safe enough to do a little more. Just a little more.

He kicked off his trousers and leaned back naked against his own section of upholstery. With one hand he stroked his pulsing cock. Maddy stared at him—stared at it—and licked her lips. She parted her pink flesh for him and stroked herself until her fingers were shining wet.

“Why don’t you come over here?” Gregor said, his heart slamming against his ribs. Somehow he had to control both of them enough for them to have some nice, easy sex.

Obedient, she slithered back over, ran her tongue up his belly, his chest, along his throat, coming at last to his mouth.

“I want you to claim me in the Old Way,” she whispered against his lips.

Uh uh. That was way out of bounds. He growled his disapproval, but could not stop kissing her. Her skin tasted so damn good, the scent of her arousal made him crazy. Gold dust glittered on her cheeks. She was a goddess, and she was his—and her damn leather pants were crotchless. How strong did a man have to be?

“We need to complete the bonding,” she said, her voice low and smoky. “There’s no need to wait any longer.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Felix had said to wait six weeks before he could feed from her or engage in strenuous activities. They had two more weeks to go. And claiming her was different from feeding on her by several orders of magnitude.

“The correct answer is yes, Faustin.”

To shut her up he kissed her, and his mouth ran over with blood. Her blood. Gregor’s eyes flew open in surprise. He tried to draw away, but she held his head tight, ruthlessly sealing her mouth against his, forcing her blood on him.

It was a trap. She’d cut her lip open with her pearly little incisors. In that moment he realized that she really had become a Faustin.

Nearly choking, he swallowed convulsively. Madelena’s new blood was as smooth and powerful as the finest aged scotch. It was as he remembered her, but so much more. There was no weakness in this woman at all. She could probably wipe the floor with him.

What had their combined blood made her into?

My mate.

The sound of a hammering pulse filled his ears, and everything went red.

He sank his teeth into the high curve of her breast, and let them break the skin. The pain made her cry out, but also gasp in pleasure. A little spurt of blood filled his mouth. He moved to the opposite breast, and made an identical wound, and drank again. And again. Each swallow intoxicated him more. Each bite made her gasp and writhe. He threw her on her back and pinned her down, taking her as he pleased. Again and again he bit and drank, covering her arms with small wounds from wrists to shoulder. Maddy whimpered beneath him, her mouth open, her eyes blind. Need poured off her, raw and hot, fueling his own.

It should have been enough to see her this way, begging beneath him, but his deep instincts demanded more, wanted to see proof that she could not escape. He reached between the cushions of the banquette, drew out one of the coils of satin rope that were stowed there, and lapped it around her joined wrists. Maddy’s eyes widened, but she did not protest. Both of them were playing out an ancient drama.

He tied the end of the rope off at the wall of the booth, stretching her arms over her head.

The words came out of him without thought. They’d been waiting to be spoken all his life. “You belong to me now, body, blood and soul.”

Eyes heavy, she mouthed, “Yes.”

Gregor hooked his arms into the crooks of her knees and thrust into her, sinking himself in a single stroke. Maddy moaned, her body taut, the whites of her eyes visible beneath her lids. There was no quarter here. This was not lovemaking.

He wrapped his arms beneath her and held her throat to his mouth. Staying deep inside her, moving slow, he worked up and down the length of her throat, nipping and sucking, taking more of her heady, powerful blood with each puncture. Madelena was the true elixir, the substance which would sustain him for the rest of his life.

Wrapped around her, buried inside her, his bloodstream suffused with her, even the physical boundaries between them blurred. He thrust faster and faster, bruising his hipbones against the battery belt. Her legs came up around his hips, and her high heels dug into his back. She was straining against the rope, she was crying his name—their thoughts were one, their bodies were one, they were so very close to the edge, bound together, agonized, ecstatic.

Madelena’s breath caught on a high cry, and she went still. He latched onto her throat, closing the circuit, and her orgasm began to flow. Drinking deep, Gregor rode it with her for a few seconds before his own began. Caught in a feedback loop, their climaxes amplified and echoed one another, trapping them in a firestorm of pain, love and pleasure combined.

Gregor held on to sanity by his fingernails, ripped apart by an ejaculation that went on and on like nothing he’d ever experienced. Was it her orgasm?

Shuddering and shaking, Maddy sank her teeth into his neck, jacking into his blood supply. She swept through him. The claiming was mutual. Her cunt contracted over and over, milking him as he gave and gave, gave her everything he had. And all the while, her blood was in his mouth, singing to him about love even while it was killing him.

He lost track of time, of place, there was just this connection, this exquisite, dragging torture, slowly becoming less and less, until there was only them, and they were quiet.

For a long time, neither of them could move. Eventually Gregor untied her wrists. Neither said anything because words seemed intrusive. They just shifted positions so that they were spooning, and Gregor held her close. Maddy’s cheeks were still wet with tears, she didn’t know up or down yet, and she was dizzy with blood loss, but it felt amazing. She was reborn.

They intertwined fingers and she kissed his hand. Or was he kissing her hand? The division between them was very thin. She floated high, flushed with happy chemicals, her consciousness twining and twirling with Gregor’s in a slow, eddying dance.

Bit by bit, the music from the dance floor asserted itself—she hadn’t even noticed it the whole time they’d been together—and they settled back down to earth, and reality, a small room strewn with his clothes and a club that needed tending. They were no longer joined, but they could be again, with just a wish.

Gregor kissed the back of her neck, as he always did when they woke up in the evening. He started to say something, then had to stop to clear his throat. “Is your plug still tight? You okay?”

Maddy slapped his hand off her cord. “Gregor, I swear to God I will beat you—”

“Alright, alright.” He laughed.

Maddy rolled to face him. Despite fucking themselves within an inch of their lives—or rather, because of it—he appeared ten years younger than he had when they came into this room. His eyes were brilliant, his cheeks pink.

“You’re ready to conquer the world.” She brushed his hair out of his face. There was no way she could love him more.

“Done that.” His grin was all too satisfied.

“Now what, then?”

“Enjoying the spoils, I guess.” He kissed her. As gentle as it was, it stung. Her lips were thrashed.

“Settling into domestic bliss, you mean?”

“Mmm, domestic.” He circled his finger around her tender nipple, which was ringed with bite marks, demonstrating his notions of domesticity: bed, snacks, bed, snacks in bed, bed then snacks.

“Does that include wedding plans?”

Gregor scowled. “What do you mean? We’re as married as we’re going to get. That was it, sweetheart. We just did it right.”

“Not according to our moms.”

“Ah, Jesus.” He rolled over and covered his face with his hands.

“Exactly. Jesus wants us married—in a church. Which one is up for debate. To that end, my mother wants to invite your folks over for dinner.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Maddy shook her head. “She wants to know what kind of broth your parents like best.”

“Tell her she doesn’t have to cook at all.” Gregor grinned, showing all of his gleaming teeth. “If she’ll just sit still, my parents will serve themselves.”

He deserved the punch—he really did.