He loomed over her, picking her up with one arm and putting her farther back on the bed. His thigh came between her legs and then his body pressed hers into the mattress, that heavy arousal running up the very center of her. She undulated against him, stroking herself, stroking him.
His mouth moved urgently as they kissed, but he entered her slowly, parting her gently, stretching her, joining them together. He was thick and hard and heavenly and he moved languidly, deeply. That delicious dark scent came out of his skin, saturating her.
"I will have no other," he said against her throat. "I will take none but you."
Mary wrapped her legs around his hips, trying to have him so far inside that he could stay with her forever.
John followed Tohrment through the house. There were a lot of rooms, and all the furniture and decorations were really nice, really old. He paused by a painting of a mountain scene. A little brass nameplate on the gilt frame read Frederic Church. He wondered who that was and decided the guy was awfully good at what he did.
Down at the end of a hallway, Tohrment opened a door and turned on a light. "I put your suitcase in here already."
John walked inside. The walls and ceiling were painted dark blue and there was a big bed with a sleek headboard and lots of fat pillows. There was also a desk and a bureau. And a set of sliding glass doors that opened onto a terrace.
"Bathroom's through here." Tohrment turned on another light
John put his head in and saw a whole lot of dark blue marble. The shower was glassed in and... wow, there were four heads for the water to come out.
"If you need anything Wellsie is here, and I'll be back around four A.M. We go downstairs about that time every night. If you need us during the day, just pick up any phone and dial pound one. We'd be happy to see you anytime. Oh, and we have two doggen, or staff, who help out around here, Sal and Regine. Both of them know you're with us now.
They show up around five-ish. If you need to go out, just ask them to take you."
John went over to the bed and touched a pillowcase. It was so soft, he could barely feel it.
"You're going to be fine here, son. It might take some getting used to, but you're going to be fine."
John looked across the room. Shoring up his courage, he walked over to Tohrment and opened his mouth. Then he pointed up to the man.
"You sure you want to do this now?" Tohrment murmured.
When John nodded, Tohrment slowly parted his lips. And bared a set of fangs.
Oh... man. Oh...
John swallowed and put his fingers to his own mouth.
"Yeah, you're going to get them, too. Sometime in the next couple of years." Tohrment crossed the room and sat on the bed, plugging his elbows into his knees. "We go through the change around age twenty-five. After that you're going to need to drink to survive. And I'm not talking about milk, son."
John cocked his eyebrows, wondering from whom.
"We'll find you a female to get you through the change, and I'll tell you what to expect. It's no party, but once you have it behind you, you'll be so strong, you'll think it was all worth it."
John's eyes flared as he measured Tohrment. Abruptly he spread his hands apart horizontally and lengthwise, then put his thumb to his own chest.
"Yeah, you'll be my size, too."
John mouthed the words get out.
"Really. That's why the transition is a bitch. Your body goes through a big change in a period of hours. Afterward you're going to have to relearn things, how to walk, how to move." Tohr looked down at himself. "These bodies of ours are hard to control at first."
John absently rubbed his chest, where the circular scar was.
Tohrment's eyes tracked the movement.
"I have to be honest with you, son. There's a lot we don't know about you. For one thing, there's no telling how much of us is in your blood. And we have no clue what line you descend from. As for that scar, I can't explain it. You say you've had the thing all your life, and I believe you, but that marking is given, not something we're born with."
John took out his paper and wrote, Everyone has it?
"No. Just my brothers and me. That's why Bella brought you to us."
Who are you? John wrote.
"The Black Dagger Brotherhood. We're warriors, son. We fight to keep the race alive, and that's what we're going to train you to do. The other males in your class will become soldiers, but you, with that marking, you may end up being one of us. I don't know." Tohrment rubbed the back of his neck. "Sometime soon I'm going to take you to meet Wrath. He's the boss in charge, our King. I'd also like to have you checked out by our doctor, Havers. He might be able to get a read on your bloodline. Would that be cool with you?"
John nodded.
"I'm glad we found you, John. If we hadn't you'd have died, because there would have been no one to give you what you needed."
John went over and sat down next to Tohrment.
"You got anything you want to ask me?"
John nodded, but couldn't marshal his thoughts into any coherent pattern.
"Tell you what, you think on it tonight. We'll talk more tomorrow."
John was dimly aware that his head was nodding in response. Tohrment got up and walked to the door. From out of nowhere a bullet of panic ricocheted through John's chest. The idea of being alone seemed terrifying, even though he was in a pretty house, with kind people, in a very safe area. He just felt... so very small.
Tohrment's shitkickers came into his line of sight.
"Hey, John, maybe I'll hang for a while in here with you. You like that? We can channel surf."
Thank you, he signed without thinking, I feel a little weird.
"I'll take that as a yes." Tohrment propped himself up on the pillows, grabbed the remote, and turned on the TV. "Vishous, one of my brothers, wired this house. I think we get about seven hundred stations on this thing. What do you like to watch?"
John shrugged and shuffled back against the headboard.
Tohrment clicked around until he found Terminator 2. "You like?"
John whistled softly through his teeth and nodded.
"Yeah, me, too. This is a classic, and Linda Hamilton is hot."
Chapter Thirty-eight
Rhage slept late, very late, and what woke him up was bad news. The restlessness, the awful itch, was alive inside of him again. The Scribe Virgin's reprieve was over. The beast was back.
He opened his eyes and saw Mary's hair on his pillow. And the curve of her neck. And her naked back.
He broke out in a sweat, an erection popping up quick as a heartbeat.
He thought of the way they had come together after the feeding. And then again when they'd returned to their room. He'd reached for her twice more during the day, feeling bad about making the demands because he'd been all over her so much. Still, each time she'd smiled up at him and welcomed him inside, even though she must have been exhausted and probably a little sore.
And he wanted her again right now, but with a pounding need that was different than he'd felt before. This hunger was savage, as if he'd never had her at all or hadn't seen her for months. As he fought the urge, his hands curled up on themselves, fingers tingling, skin tightening. He was completely strung out, the very bones in him vibrating.
He got out of bed and headed for the shower. By the time he came back, he'd regained some control, but then he saw that Mary had kicked the covers off of herself. She was gloriously naked as she lay on her stomach, her beautiful ass a temptation that ate at him.
"Can I get you something from the kitchen?" he asked hoarsely.
"Sleep," she murmured, turning over onto her back. Her pink-tipped br**sts tightened as the air hit them.
Oh, sweet Jesus... Wait, something was off here. Her face was flushed like she had windburn, and her legs were sawing on top of the mattress.
He went over and put his hand on her forehead. She was hot and dry.
"Mary, I think you have a fever."
"Low-level. Not unusual."
Fear put a chill on his craving to take her. "You want me to get you some aspirin?"
"Just need to sleep through it."
"Do you want me to stay with you?"
She opened her eyes. He hated the dull look in them. "No, this happens. Honestly, I'm all right. I just need to sleep it off."
Rhage stayed with her awhile longer and then pulled on some black nylon warm-ups and a T-shirt. Before he left, he stared at her. He could barely stand her having a slight fever. What the hell was it going to be like when she got really sick?