Bittersweet Blood (The Order #1)

…


Tara came awake fully as his fang grazed her skin. Christian was behind her, curved around her spine, wrapping her in a warm, sensual glow. He was also buried deep inside her, his arms enfolding her. One hand tugged at her engorged nipple while the other gently stroked her swollen clit. She was on fire as he thrust slowly. She wanted it to go on forever but she craved the release he could give her. She let herself go, giving herself up to the sensations building inside her until she was free and flying.

She slept again afterward. When she woke, he was still beside her and she was wrapped in his arms. She felt different and realized something fundamental had changed deep within her mind. Whether from his lovemaking or feeding, Christian had forged a connection between the two of them, like a low hum, whispering through her brain. Tara found it strangely comforting.

She knew that soon she was going to have to ask him what he had discovered but for a little while, she wanted to forget.

“Where did these come from?” She stroked her fingers around the scars that circled his wrists.

His eyes followed the movement. After a minute, he gripped her hands, settling them palm down on his naked chest and pressing them down with his own. His skin felt warmer now, smooth as satin under her fingers, but he wouldn’t distract her so easily. Tara wanted to know everything about him. Where he came from, what his life had been like before he died. Graham had told her Christian didn’t talk about his past but she refused to be put off.

“I thought you healed all scars?”

He sighed. “Not those that happened before we were changed.”

“So you got them before you were turned into a vampire?”

Christian rolled onto his side, trapping their hands between their bodies. It brought his face close and his breath feathered across her cheeks. “You don’t want to talk about this,” he said against her skin.

A shiver ran through her but she shook it off. “Actually, I do. I want to know, and it will take my mind off my own problems for a little while.”

He drew in a deep breath. She thought he was going to refuse her, but he pulled himself up, dragging her with him so he rested back against the headboard. He tucked her under his arm, and she relaxed against him.

“I was born in 1502.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “1502? That makes you—”

“A lot older than you. If you want to hear this, I suggest you stop interrupting. It’s not a story I’ve told before.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Go ahead.”

“My parents were rich by the standards of the day. I grew up in a manor house. I was betrothed at thirteen and we married when I was eighteen and Elizabeth fourteen.”

Tara opened her mouth to say something. Christian shot her a look, and she closed it again.

“We were happy. Over the next few years, we had two daughters. A son would have followed, but it was not to be. My family was murdered. I didn’t know it at the time, but the Earth was in the middle of one of the demon wars. A particularly long, drawn-out war. They happen every so often, and we normally manage to put them down without too many problems, but there are always human casualties. My family was targeted because of me.”

He rested his head against the wall behind him, and stared into space. It was such a long time ago but he obviously still felt the guilt.

“If the demons killed them, how could you be responsible?”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Not so much now, but during the wars in the Middle Ages, demons and the fae recruited humans to work with them. They can sense when a person is susceptible to their ways and approach them with promises of rewards. I wasn’t, but it was common knowledge I’d had problems with the church. I was against many of their practices and spoke out, believing my position would protect me. So perhaps I drew the demons to me. When they realized I would never work for them, they killed my family out of spite.”

He shook his head. “I’ll probably never know the details, but I found out later they were killed on the orders of a demon called Asmodai. He’s one of the seven princes in the Abyss, and I suppose I should be flattered that he came for me himself. After the murder, the church leaped at the chance to have me arrested. I blamed myself after my family died, and didn’t care what happened to me.

“I was imprisoned, although my position kept me alive for three years. Three years in a dungeon chained to a wall in the darkness, thinking about what had happened.” He held out his hands to show the scars on his wrist. “That is when I got these.” He lifted himself away from her and twisted to show her his back. A fine tracing of silvery scars ran over the whole length of it, marring the perfection of his skin.