The Murder King’s Woman

Jamie Leigh Hansen

“Ninety-nine veins of blood to tap,

Ninety-nine veins of bloood . . .

Pick the best flavour and drain it dry.

There’ll be ninety-eight veins of blood to try.”

Sasha sashayed her curvy human body across the busy foyer of the San Francisco Vamp Palace, her booted steps in sync with the rousing chorus of vamps in the next room, her jaunty nurse’s cap bobbing with the tune. Grasping hold of the song, she continued the refrain silently as she pushed the empty black wheelchair through the crowd of costumed, but deadly, vampires.

She wore a traditional white nurse’s dress, with the neckline cut low to the thick, black belt on her waist. A bright-red Wonderbra pushed everything she had out and up in a bountiful display. The skirt stretched high on her thighs, leaving a few inches of skin bare to the tops of her thigh-high black boots. With her vivid, glossy make-up and her latex-gloved hands, her costume was perfect.

Sasha pushed the wheelchair to the elevator behind the grand staircase. A Bela Lugosi lookalike cast lascivious glances all down her body as a Queen Elizabeth smiled at her with condescending indulgence. Contrary to modern myth, vampires loved Halloween. It was the one night a year they could let their fangs hang out. Though, tonight, their fangs were a bit sharper than usual.

Smiling vacuously, her mind only shielded with the most basic of barriers expected from an average mortal like her, Sasha continued to sing silently. Ninety-eight veins of blood to tap . . .

Sasha entered the elevator, pushed the button for the fourth floor, and gripped the wheelchair handles tight. She smiled, wide and excited, for any who glanced her way. Ninety-five veins of blood to tap . . .

The elevator doors slid open to reveal a long, darkly panelled hallway with doors on either side. Some were open, some weren’t. At one, a beautiful ice-blonde in a dress Cinderella would envy smiled teasingly at a dashing, kilted Scotsman. Her voice was a smooth purr. “You can look under mine if you let me look under yours.”

He chuckled, his voice low as he leaned forwards and opened the door behind her. “Only look?”

Sasha’s smile came easier as she passed them, the chair rolling quietly along the deep red carpet. Eighty-nine veins of blood to tap, eighty-nine veins of bloood . . .

At the end of the hall, between two closed doors where the wall only appeared to be a smooth mural, she deftly swiped a card through the nearly hidden slot. The hallway was silent for the moment, but the pounding of a human heart would carry easily through the walls and into the many bedrooms. She only had seconds before someone would come to see why hers pounded.

Adding even more joy to the refrain in her head, she slipped into the secret hallway, its walls thick enough to hide almost anything thought or spoken, and pushed the chair down the narrow tunnel. Halting outside the guard room, she parked the chair and stepped into the opening, leaning against the door frame in a seductive pose.

There was only one guard, sitting with his feet propped up and staring morosely at the monitors. He glanced back at her then did a swift double-take, nearly falling off his chair. Sasha grinned wickedly. “I heard you were hungry.”

As he stood, the light hit his name tag. Stan. Stan took his time, gazing from the pulse in her neck, down her exposed cleavage and lower, to the inches of thigh exposed between her skirt and boots. In less than a blink, he stood before her, taller, faster, stronger.

Sasha shivered.

Stan wrapped his large hands around her sides and grinned with anticipation.

Pick the best flavour and drain it dry.

Stan groaned, “Oh, yeah.”

There was a reason the little ditty was popular among vampires. Stan leaned forwards and licked a trail from the curve of one breast to her neck, meaning to tease her.

Instead, Sasha held him as he slid silently to the floor. Any of her personal taste he’d managed to pick up would be disguised by the knock-out gel she’d smeared all over her skin. It left a brutal aftertaste.

From one of the large front pockets of her dress, Sasha pulled a flash drive and plugged it into the computer tower. Three key strokes and Enter executed the desired file upload. The monitors and hard drive were busy recording an old episode of Buffy when she left the room.

Eighty-five veins of blood to tap . . .

Eighty-five veins of blood . . .

Only intense practice kept her focused as she pushed the wheelchair into the next room and saw the once healthy and robust vampire lying there. The bed holding him was more like an incubator, enclosed with glass and bright UV heat lamps shining directly on his skin. He wouldn’t burst into flames from this false sun, but he was burned a deep red from head to toe. Tainted blood flowed through an IV into his right arm, while the blood he’d filtered through his ancient system flowed from an IV in his left thigh, to be used in other ways later.

A small, horrified moan passed her lips and she stiffened. If she broke her mental block now, she’d never have the calm concentration to get it back.

Eighty-three veins of blood to tap . . .

Her movements trained to smooth efficiency, deep breaths keeping her heartbeat slow and regular despite the strain, Sasha set the brakes on the wheelchair and opened the “legs” to give her room to seat him. Then she lifted the clear lid and removed the tainted IV from his emaciated arm and thigh.

From the backpack hanging on the back of the wheelchair, she pulled a bundle of clothes and a bag of fresh blood. She attached the blood bag to a new IV to begin feeding him immediately. Pulling him into a sitting position, she managed to snap a hospital gown on him and belt a large, fluffy bathrobe around him. He wasn’t his regular weight, though still tall and bulky, or she couldn’t have manoeuvred him so easily. By now his eyes were blinking and he was trying to steady himself so he wouldn’t hamper her further. His small amount of balance helped when it was time to swing him into the chair.

Gently, Sasha placed the bag of blood in a discreet pocket she’d sewn to the inside of his robe. Slippers and a thin cashmere blanket covered his skin from the toes up. She tucked the blanket snug around his legs and inside the legs of the wheelchair so nothing trailed to catch in the wheels. The sleeves of the robe bunched over his clasped hands, where they rested in his lap.

Moving even more quickly now, Sasha powdered his face to transform his skin from the quickly healing UV burn to a sickly white-yellow. Then she turned his blue eyes brown with contacts and wrapped a scarf around his neck. Almost done. A yellow hospital mask, a dark brown curly wig to hide his straight black hair, plus a cap to hold the wig in place, and he was ready.

She didn’t have much time and the urgency to leave warred inside her with the necessity of his disguise. To push the wheelchair, she’d be standing behind him, unable to shield him by drawing all gazes to her body. No, with him in front, he would need a costume no one would want to stare at. This was as close as they had time for.

Twenty-nine veins of blood to tap . . .

Sasha pulled two canisters from the bag. Five seconds after being set, the canisters would release a gassy burst of ammonia and bleach in the tightly sealed room, filling the air and erasing any traceable scent. She set the first one on the bed he’d been in, the metal of the can clicking against the frame. Rushing, she pushed the wheelchair to the guard’s office and released the second canister. Holding tight to the handles of his chair, she ran down the tunnel to the hallway exit.

One deep breath to slow her heart, and they flowed out from behind the hidden wall, quick and brazen, as if they’d exited the room next to it. Behind her, the trick wall slid shut and a part of her eased. So far, none of the vampires moving in and out of the rooms in the hallway had paid them any attention, but her heart was beating too fast for a fun little song to explain. Seamlessly, Sasha switched her thoughts to a vampire movie she’d watched, in which a seemingly sick vampire chased his sexy nurse around the hospital room. Only, in her mind, she was the teasing nurse evading an easy capture. And her patient was no longer in a wheelchair.

The imagined chase made her heart beat faster, nearly bringing life to the heart of her vampire patient as he followed her around the bed and pushed her to the mattress. Her belt popped open, displaying her from her vulnerable throat, two tiny spots dripping blood, to her bright red I-Wonder-How-It-Holds-’Em-In bra. She landed with her thighs spread, exposing the matching red panties under her skirt.

At least two of the male vampires in the hallway glanced her way because of that image, their eyes burning red at the centres while their fangs pressed against their lips. Sasha bit her lip coyly and thrust out her chest and she played the fantasy further, focusing their attention on her.

At the elevator, Sasha pushed the chair into the corner, pressed the down button and planted herself in front of the wheelchair while they waited for the elevator to arrive on their floor. When the doors slid open, she froze, her mind going blank as she stared into the sharp eyes of the Master of San Francisco. David. He did not look happy. In fact, he looked a bit panicked.

Sasha looked his tall frame over, her mind still empty of thought. When his gaze swerved from her to the chair behind her, she licked her lips. Imagining flesh and sweat and blood, anything to recapture his attention. David’s gaze snapped back to hers, his look considering, then all too interested. He arched forwards, exiting the elevator.

With wide eyes, Sasha glanced to the man at David’s side. His second-in-command, Alexander. He was also tall and well formed, thick veins branching down his forearms and over his hands. He looked at David and in her mind she exaggerated his expression. A touch heavy on the possessiveness, more than a touch to see a spark of lust for David.

David jerked, his attention snapping to his second as he followed from the elevator. David set a startled, analytical gaze on Alexander as his second frowned in confusion.

Sasha stepped past them, pushing the wheelchair inside the elevator then turning and pushing the button for the lowest level. With nothing between her and the Master but her imagination, Sasha pictured both of the men bare, tanned and wrapped around each other. Posing for her.

Both David and Alexander stared at her with wide eyes, both aroused and nearly comically shocked at her vivid mind. In the second it took for the doors to slide closed, Sasha projected one final thought.

If Alexander were on top, would he take advantage of the power exchange?

David snarled at his second-in-command while Alexander tried to look innocent.

The doors clicked shut and Sasha turned the wheelchair, tugging down the mask to examine her vampire’s healing skin. Familiar eyes, despite the brown contacts, twinkled up at her and his lip tugged up slightly at the corner. In the depths of her mind she heard his whisper.

Diabolical.

Sasha replaced the mask, her lips twitching at his praise. Circling behind the chair, she began a new fantasy for those who might listen, this one in the maze hedge at the back of the grounds. The leaves were dark and dense, turning the night from the darkest of blue to an inescapable pitch black. Perfect for the predator vs. prey game her fantasy master loved.

This is a side of you I’ve never known.

And he knew nearly all of her. Sasha grimaced. All except the grown woman struggling for freedom inside her. The woman with her own needs and desires. Sasha changed the course of her thoughts as her heartbeat slowed during the elevator ride, even her breathing sedate and regular by the time the doors slid open.

Twenty-eight veins of blood to tap . . .

Sasha opened the door to the guest parking area. Rolling him to her SUV, Sasha aided him inside and loaded the wheelchair in the back, to be sterilized later. Taking her place behind the wheel, she pulled out and drove down the long, tree-shrouded driveway. Her watch beeped its notice. Five minutes. The rescue was on schedule. She needed to hurry a bit, but nothing obvious.

Flipping on the radio, she hummed the words, picturing the stories the songs told. Soon, she passed the guards at the end of the drive, giving them a jaunty wave goodbye as she did, and upped her speed just understandably past the limit. With one hand, she reached into the console between them and handed him another bag of blood.

He pulled off his hospital mask and pierced the plastic with his fangs, too starved to care that it was lukewarm. He took out the contacts, dropping them in the garbage sack she handed him. The empty bags and IV followed.

Singing louder, Sasha unpinned the nurse’s hat and shook out her hair, then released the belt and unbuttoned the nurse’s dress. Before it was fully off, she pulled on a loose, scoop-neck blouse. Changing was a trick while driving, but doable. It would be wonderful if she could give him her wrist and let him feed while she drove, but passing out at the wheel would be bad. Besides, she would give him fresh blood as soon as she could wash away all the knock-out gel coating her skin. It was the least she could do. This whole evening was the least she could do. She owed him her life.

He covered her hand with his and his voice was deep and raw. “Not any more.”

“Always.”

Ten minutes until dawn. It was a huge risk, but the only way this could have worked. Vamps weren’t locked in sleep at dawn, but they would have to stay inside, well away from any light. She looked to the side. All of them have to take these precautions – including her vamp.

A few miles down the road, she pulled into a parking garage. Up and up, she drove to the top end, to a dark, lonely area that few people preferred. She backed into the parking spot so the passenger side of the SUV was near the passenger side of a blue Dodge half-ton.

Sasha parked and left the keys in the ignition. As she exited the SUV, she pulled out a long, flowing wrap-around and tied it at her waist. Taking the key from its hidden spot under the truck, she unlocked the doors and exposed the truth of the extended cab. The back seats had been removed, allowing a long, deep, light-proof box to fit snuggly behind the front seats. The box’s camouflaged top made it appear to be a set of large speakers.

Sasha helped her vampire to the truck and disconnected the drained blood bag, replacing its tube with a tube that led through the bottom of the box to a closed garment bag hanging over the speakers. The garment bag held ten large bags of blood, all now hooked up to his IV. Sasha looked meaningfully into his healing face, knowing he read her thoughts easily.

He nodded, his blue eyes clear and warm. “You’re an amazing woman.”

With a grateful peck on her lips, he crawled into the box.

Lips tingling, Sasha sealed the box and closed the doors. Gathering together the used blood bags, she added them to the garbage bag. Then, like before, Sasha pulled an ammonia and bleach canister from the centre console, clicked it to activate the detonator, and left it on the seat of the SUV she was abandoning.

In the back of the truck was a cooler full of bleach. She tossed in the bag, her boots – as sad as that was, but they were too noticeable to keep – and pulled off her short skirt.

Seconds later, the truck roared to life and she headed for the Golden Gate Bridge. Within an hour, she was firmly on HWY 101 and heading north. The most beautiful and scenic drive in America had two other benefits – minimal traffic and a cool, comfortable climate to drive in. Small clusters of towns gave way to long, winding roads and gorgeous ocean vistas. And best of all, she was finally too distant for any vampire to read her mind.

Sasha?

Except that one. Mary grinned and relaxed into the driver’s seat. “A nurse wears a name tag and I have a nasty habit of talking to myself. I had to make up a name for both. It seemed bad form to announce I was the Murder King’s human, here to rescue him.”

Yes, that wouldn’t have worked nearly as well.

In a world of exotic vampire names, human names stood out. Hers, especially, considering she’d been raised by the Murder – a group of vampires charged with policing their own kind. Their title was linked with the phrase ‘a murder of crows’, though which came first – the murder of crows or the murder of vampires – was anyone’s guess. The group consisted of the Murder King and his Crows, a mix of vampire and werewolf warriors.

If any vampire stepped out of line – or say, went on a killing spree, like the one who’d killed Mary’s entire family – then the Murder came for him. In her case, the rogue had captured her family during a camping trip, forcing them deeper into the mountains and into a network of tunnels where they would be too lost to escape and he could have his fun and food without interruption. Three days of blood, screams and horror had followed in the darkness of that tunnel. It was a nightmare she’d never forget.

She’d thought she would die. Almost had. The next time she’d seen moonlight again, it had been splashed across Sebastian’s face. She’d been the only one left alive. An orphan too traumatized by the gruesome deaths of her brother and parents to be mesmerized into forgetfulness, but too young to reliably vow silence and go her own way. Sebastian – the Murder King – had taken her home. A temporary fix that long ago became permanent.

Why the hell did they send you?

Mary buried the pang his question caused and, with a tight grip on the wheel, focused on the logic. She didn’t heal as quickly. Wasn’t as strong. Couldn’t move as fast. Couldn’t prevent the powerful vampires from reading her mind or mesmerizing her. God, the list was endless. She was the worst choice for rescuer.

“There were several plans to extract you. But David expected the vampires and was prepared for the wolves. In the end, we knew he wouldn’t keep you forever. His Halloween party tonight was largely a show for gathering all of his people into one place for protection. Several attempts were made from different angles tonight. Some failed, some were back-up. All were distractions, because amid everything else, he’d never expect them to send me.”

Not the protected human of the Murder King. Everyone knew she wasn’t to be allowed around anything seriously dangerous. She pressed her lips and buried the issue. Not the most important thing to focus on at the moment.

She’d been safe tonight, unless she’d screwed up. She’d learned all the vamp tricks at Sebastian’s knee as a child, not to mention those she’d created herself as a rebellious teenager, trying to circumvent her vampire and werewolf foster family.

Many had argued. Violently. She was too weak. Sebastian would go insane at just the suggestion. This was too important to leave in the hands of a human. In the end, she’d come up with the best, simplest plan. And if she failed, well, hopefully at least one of the other strategies wouldn’t.

“And it worked.” She smiled triumphantly into the rear-view mirror, thinking carefully over the last few days and all the plans she’d made, picturing them in detail so he could pluck them from her mind.

At great risk to yourself.

Mary sighed. She knew he wouldn’t like that part. To Sebastian, anything that put her at risk was unacceptable. But did he realize the terror she’d felt when he’d been captured? She’d never forget the sight of him – his once vital, invincible body strapped helplessly to that table, tubes draining him of the powerful blood he needed to survive. His skin greying with a sick red tinge as they took him from her, drop by drop.

Mary checked her mirrors, blinking and rolling her eyes to air-dry them of tears as she breathed deep to fight the brutal images. It was only today that she’d seen the terrible things they’d done to him, but every moment since his disappearance she’d imagined images just as horrible. Some even worse.

He wasn’t just her childhood saviour. Or the dominating law of her youth. He was so much more important to her than any one of the roles he’d played during her childhood phases. I . . . the sound in her mind was similar to a sigh. An acceptance. I do thank you.

“You would do no less for me.”

It would be much less dangerous for me.

Again she pictured his thinning skin, his sunken chest. His veins blackened by the poison they’d forced into him. The pain he must have felt was unimaginable. She’d tried. She’d seen first-hand what vampires could do, and not just when she was a child. Those memories would never leave her. Pain was pain. Torture was torture. No one, vampire or human, was exempt from the risk of agony.

It had all come down to one salient point. Which could she live with best: risk of death, be it quick or slow, or life with the loss of him, and the knowledge she’d done nothing to prevent it?

How did you know I still lived?

She’d felt it. “Intel.”

Silence.

“Why the elaborate set-up, the snail’s pace torture? If he wanted you dead, why not a quick, clean kill before he lost his chance?”

They didn’t tell you?

And break the code of secrecy they loved so well? She snorted. The subtext had flown around, but no one had wanted to explain. At first because they didn’t want her involved, then because she’d have less to think about, therefore less chance to screw up the rescue. She had a long way to go to prove herself to them. Or, at least, to the handful of Crows willing to let her prove herself.

You have nothing to prove and no reason to try so hard.

A blank wall rose in her mind. It was mostly white with a grey crack that split in so many directions she could mentally trace it for hours. Which she had done before. She’d been using this trick for years since it seemed the most effective way to disguise her thoughts. By the time he broke through, the thought she hid would be long gone.

He sighed again. David had a sister. She crossed the line.

The Murder had been created long before the vampires had expanded past the Old World, before the ruling Monarchy had been replaced with more of a republic (with Senators representing the territories they ruled). The Murder existed outside of all rule, as the law itself. Everyone, both citizen and ruler, answered to the Murder. Whenever a rogue believed he answered to no one, killed indiscriminately and risked lawlessness and war, Senator or peon – the Murder was called.

David’s sister Tatiana ruled an area in France a hundred years ago. She took a page from the bloody countess and bathed in the blood of virgins, not for the youthful beauty the countess had sought, but for pleasure and gluttony. Her antics, while legal because she’d made them legal in her territory, risked the safety of all vampires. The Murder was called and I dealt the death blow. Her people, David among them, were ordered to watch. To learn that type of barbarity was not acceptable.

“And instead, he learned to hate you.”

My mentor and predecessor was killed during the battle. Her death marked my ascension to Murder King.

Ahh. For Sebastian to have profited from Tatiana’s death. That would have been impossible for David to accept. “Why wait so long for revenge?”

He waited until victory was certain.

Meaning David had thought the Murder King was finally vulnerable. That there had been a hole in Sebastian’s security.

She tightened her grip on the wheel. This was all her fault.

Her first two years of college had been full of online classes backed with evening classes. But this year, the courses she needed were only at certain times – day times – and her presence was mandatory. She’d moved into a dorm, living the college student’s life, separate from the Murder for the first time since her rescue from that fatal family camping trip.

She’d thought she’d needed the independence, the chance to mature away from the watchful eyes of the Murder or they would forever see only the defenceless child she’d been. Or the protected pet she’d become. Unless she got away long enough to become the capable woman she felt was her destiny.

But, dear God, she’d left the Murder King vulnerable. His guards had been with her. This was her fault.

No. He bit the word out with a sharp snap. This is David’s fault. He was coming for me sooner or later.

“But he had a chance because of me.”

I left myself in the open.

She could hear the click as pieces fell into place. Over the last week, she’d heard a few facts about his disappearance. He’d been out of the compound at the time, but not on a case – something that hadn’t happened in a hundred years. He had come to check on her at school.

No wonder Sebastian’s werewolf bodyguard had glared at her, his hazel eyes so accusing. Lucas was never off duty. Strong, lethal, loyal. Pretty damned hot.

Sebastian growled in the back of her mind and she bit her cheek, concentrating on the pain until the urge to smile left.

Lucas had blamed her for Sebastian’s vulnerability. Then each of the others had fallen in suit, not wanting to include her in his rescue, not trusting her. They didn’t just think her weak, did they? Did they also think she’d helped his enemies? Of course, that would have to be a consideration. They’d all lived too long not to consider every possibility. “They were angry you exposed yourself to danger just to check on me personally.”

Silence.

“I knew you had me watched. I haven’t fought having guards because I understand why I need them.” And the guards had kept it low key, granting her as much freedom and privacy as possible while keeping her safe. The Murder King had too many enemies and his human ward knew too many secrets.

Those aren’t the only reasons why.

“Did David threaten to kill me?”

Yes.

“And you came to get me?”

Yes. Then there was a fight and I was captured.

She sighed and focused on her driving. Music played softly in the background and she let her attention drift with the words and the scenery. A half-hour later, she pulled into a double-wide storage unit and parked the truck. Using a slab on wheels and a winch system, she transferred his light-proof crate to the back of another SUV, cleaned anything that could identify them, set the scent-scrubber bombs and drove away in a vehicle with Oregon plates. A quick trip through a drive-thru netted her a burger and pop and she continued on.

Through it all, he was quiet. Considering the height of the sun in the sky, he probably slept like the dead. He didn’t actually have to, but after being tortured for a week . . . well. She finished her burger and bagged the trash.

Something had to change.

She needed college. Not just for her to give her credentials in the real world, but for the distance, the space. For years now, she’d had one dream. Likely Sebastian knew, bits and pieces at the very least. She wasn’t that good at hiding her thoughts.

The fact was Sebastian had never really been a father figure to her. She remembered her own dad too well for that. No, Sebastian wasn’t her dad, but he was everything else. He was the strength that rescued her, not only the once, but every night in her dreams. He was the wisdom that guided her growth, as well as the growth of a coven of fifty vampires, and as many wolves. Policing rogues wasn’t a cushy job.

But beyond all that, his humour made her smile. His anger alternated between making her cringe and sparking her blood. And his big, hard, healthy body made her wet . . . in places she dare not think of with him in the car with her – whether he was asleep or not.

She couldn’t have him. Not yet. She would not be a liability to him. Despite the years of training that could’ve earned her a blacker than black belt, or the excellent marks she’d made with all her tutors, she still needed two things before she could fulfil her dream. Unfortunately, they were the two hardest things for him to grant: time and distance.

She needed these two things so that her thoughts could be private while she worked on herself. So her gradual changes could be noticeable when she returned home. Then Sebastian would see a different person. A grown, mature woman, worthy of respect. And love.

Her dream was to become his woman.

She needed to become a strong partner worthy of the Murder’s leader. The kind of partner he needed. Any weakness in her would reflect on him. A human could only do so much in his world, physically, but mental weakness was worse.

She also needed to age. He’d been turned in his thirties. She had a good five to ten years before she could stand by him without looking like his kid sister, or worse – as she looked now – his daughter.

Five to ten years of living, a degree in business, minor in politics, and then she’d ask him to turn her. Assuming, please God, that he wanted her by then. That she’d proven herself worthy.

Mary breathed deeply, pulling back from her vision of the future. She had a vivid imagination. Too much focus on it and she might forget she wasn’t there yet. She’d imagine skipping the years of hard work and just race straight to the next step, lying beside him in soft cotton sheets, their bare bodies close. Touching.

Images which were much too detailed to think about two hours from sundown. Mary leaned forwards and cranked the radio. A quick check of the maps on her cell phone re-confirmed the directions to the safe house, and she settled in to sing with the radio, emptying her mind of all else.

The sky was a mix of orange and yellow, the last burst of the sun before it fell below the horizon. Mary pulled into the garage and closed the doors, making careful mental note for Sebastian of the placement of items, doors and switches and, especially, the alarm code. He wouldn’t exit the crate until the sun was fully down. There were too many ways the house might not be fully light-proof. When he felt safe, he’d come inside the house.

Is this place secure?

Mary thought over her plans and precautions, letting him see the details. “I paid cash and rented it under that emergency name you gave me.”

Then only the two of us know.

“What about whoever made the ID?”

I made it myself.

Mary smiled and continued into the house. The bagged blood would have smoothed the edge of his starvation and sickness, but for true healing he would need fresh blood. She found the master bedroom and en suite, set a duffel bag on the counter and took a shower. She had to scrub away the face-altering make-up and every inch of her skin that was slathered in knock-out gel.

Forty-five minutes later, Mary exited the steamy bathroom in a tank top and matching sky-blue cotton shorts. Her hair hung in a straight, wet curtain to the middle of her back and thin wisps, drying to blonde, framed her face. Finally, she looked like what she was – a youthful, relatively innocent college student.

Light from the doorway behind her spilled into the darkened bedroom, illuminating the man sitting on the edge of her bed. The light struck his eyes, making shiny sparkles in the vibrant blue. Apparently distance didn’t affect only the way people saw her, but also the way she saw them.

She’d always loved Sebastian, in all his many roles. But this one was new. Still thin and weakened from his ordeal, his skin had healed the small wounds and discolorations. Now his bare chest gleamed golden and his veins had returned to blue from their previously poisoned black. His hair gleamed wet from his own shower, taken in the main bathroom closer to the garage, and he’d chosen a pair of comfortable cotton sweats for the night. His bare feet curled into the carpet and his elbows rested on his slightly splayed knees, as he studied her just as thoughtfully as she did him.

“You have nothing to prove. You will not risk yourself in such a misguided endeavour again.”

His voice was the same commanding baritone he’d always used. His mouth settled into the same thin line, demanding obedience – unhappy until it was willingly given. But something was different. He seemed more approachable, and not because of the amazing amount of muscled skin on display. Being bare might make other people seem more vulnerable, but not him now.

No, it wasn’t the lack of clothing or his relative illness that made him seem approachable to her, but she couldn’t decide what it was. Whatever was different, she didn’t react with a knee-jerk urge to rebel against his words. Instead, she stepped forwards with a calm assurance in her mind, her body and her tone.

“I will risk whatever I deem necessary in order to aid those I care for. No matter the labels you give it later.”

Sebastian straightened, still sitting on the bed, until his spine was a strong line and his shoulders a broad wall against the darkness behind him. “You would defy my command?”

Mary came to a stop directly in front of him, her eyes not much higher than his though he sat. She met his gaze without flinching. “You would have me be less than the woman you’ve helped raise me to be?”

His eyes narrowed. “No, but I would have you safe.”

She raised her brows, then her chin, asking the question they needed to have out in the open between them. “Would you have me be a coward?”

He stared at her in silence, the point of no return a firm line between them. He’d ruled vampires and wolves long enough to know there came a moment when each individual was no longer a child. Her moment had come and he had to accept it.

She accepted that she was young and there was still much for her to learn. There were levels of maturity she had to earn. Mistakes she had to make. She didn’t want to die. Didn’t want to risk herself in ridiculous acts of recklessness, but like with tonight, she’d had a plan. She’d implemented it with only the help of those she trusted implicitly, and she had succeeded. He was alive and safe. And well worth the risk.

His hands clenched closed on his thighs, the only sign of any struggle inside of him. “I knew the woman you would be the moment I first gazed into your eyes. And while these last few years have taken for ever in your eyes, in mine, they’ve been the work of but a moment. I’m not ready to set you free.”

Mary lowered to her knees, settling between his and gently covering his fists with her hands. “I haven’t asked for freedom from you. Only freedom to be me.”

His eyes flared, the blue an intense beam cutting straight to her marrow. “Are you really so positive you know what that means?”

“It means I am not an empty puppet or a brainless doll.” Her hands clenched tight over his, her eyes wide and earnest. “I am me. That is what you hold. I am yours.”

His face lowered over hers, his gaze devouring, his lips a breath away. “You vow this?”

That quick breath left her lungs. She could barely move with the intensity of the moment. With one hand, she drew her hair over her right shoulder, baring the left side of her neck. He needed to feed. She could sense his hunger. But also, she could sense that he hungered for her, specifically. And her promise would be sealed with her blood. It was the way of the vampire. Blood was life. Blood was sacred.

Wetting her lips, she spoke softly but firmly. Her words brushed his cheek. “I vow that I am yours. Your human.”

Sebastian lowered his mouth to her throat, kissing her pulse. Inhaling her scent from her ear lobe to the fragile line of her collarbone, he whispered against her, “I don’t want you to be just my human.”

Mary swallowed, her heart beating so hard in her chest it rocked her to her foundations. “When the time comes, I vow that I will be your vampire.”

Sebastian smiled, his lips brushing the top of her breast. His tongue was soft as he traced the cords of her neck up to her ear where he whispered, “Closer. But I still want more.”

Mary inhaled deeply, her chest rising. Her breasts ached against his chest. She held in the moan, searching for the promise he wanted from her.

Arousal tightened the muscles of her stomach. Her hands wrapped over his biceps, holding her before him. His skin warmed to her touch, sparking her temperature even higher. Her desire for him was unmistakable. And he wasn’t pushing her away or forcing her to keep a respectable distance. Instead, he opened his mouth and scraped his fangs delicately along the vulnerable line of her throat. Helpless to hold it back, she moaned.

“I like to hear you think as you reach a decision. Your thought patterns are not the ruthless, linear logic that works for me, but they are logical nonetheless. There are so many of your decisions I would never understand if I didn’t have this advantage.”

Mary trembled, bare and exposed. There was nothing she could hide from him. No feeling, no plan, no dream. Licking her lips, she gathered her courage and gave him what she hoped he sought. “I vow that I will be your woman.”

Instantly, he crushed her against his chest, his arms steel bands around her and his face buried in her neck. His voice, when it came, was ragged. “Thank you.”

Mary nodded, her mouth open to respond when his fangs broke her skin for the first time. Her eyes sprang wide and her back arched against him as twin spears of pain punctured her neck and her blood rushed into him. Her right hand grabbed at his shoulders, holding him tight as if his own grasp had lightened. With her left, she drove her fingers into his hair, pressing his head against her, as she finally understood what had previously been only hinted at in her thoughts.

She was needed in the most primal, elemental way. He needed what only she could provide and what she willingly gave, nurturing him with the comfort of her arms and the life from her body. It was a cycle of bonding she’d never imagined could be this intense. This necessary.

Then it was even more as Sebastian tightened his hold on her and lifted her, his lips never breaking their seal against her neck where he licked and suckled slowly and gently, savouring her taste like the most delicate of fine wines. Her knees met the mattress with her straddling him. Mary moaned. The cycle wasn’t complete. Not yet.

Sebastian brought his hot hands to the top of each of her thighs and slid up, his fingers delving beneath the legs of her shorts and going up her hips. In one burst of strength he tore through the seams of both her shorts and underwear, peeling the shreds of cloth from her wet skin. When he had her finally bare, his fingers delved and stroked in the swollen flesh he’d revealed.

Mary cried out, a high, desperate sound. She’d waited so long for this moment and already it was beyond the capabilities of her imagination.

Sebastian lay back, Mary lying over him as he arched his hips enough to slide his sweats down to his thighs. He curled forwards, the hard core of his abs holding him as one arm circled her waist, lifting her with the strength of his biceps and forearm. Mary poised to give him the rest of her body. Another first.

Sebastian shuddered, moaning against her neck. “Yes.”

Dragging out each second of an experience that could never be repeated, Mary took him inside her. A sharp pain gave way to tense muscles pulled taut. The cycle was complete.

Sebastian licked his marks closed, sealing her blood inside her veins. Mary took her time, staring into his eyes and revelling in the intensity of his focus.

Mary collapsed into his arms, her ear pressed to the now racing sound of his heart. When Sebastian slept, his heart was near silent. When he was hungry, it was barely a sluggish demand. But, for now, it beat for her.

Sebastian’s fingers tangled in her hair, brushing the newly damp strands from her nape. “I may have taken too much blood, though I drank slow.”

Mary smiled. “I’m not worried. I’m taking a medication that increases my production of red blood cells. I knew you would need to feed often this first week, and I didn’t want to risk having you appear to anyone at less than full strength. I’ll be fine.”

“I won’t endanger you.”

She kissed his chest and nuzzled up to his neck. “With the medicine, it would be more dangerous to my heart if I didn’t lose some blood. But don’t worry. I studied the limits carefully. One week won’t hurt me.”

He chuckled and traced her cheek with one finger, his blue eyes clear and inviting. “You have a plan for everything, don’t you? Even to become the Murder King’s woman.”

Mary bit her lip and shook her head. “I’ve only wanted to be Sebastian’s woman. I have no designs on your title. It just comes with the total package.”

He eased her up, then set her back against the pillows, coming to rest alongside her. “I know. That’s why you have me. All of me. Heaven help you.”

She laughed. “I think it’s you who needs the help. Or, at least, you will. David isn’t done with you.”

And with that, her laughter faded.

Sebastian tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Don’t you worry about him. He’s mine to take care of.”

“While I do what? Go back to college and play a young twenty-something with no worries?” Mary grimaced and shook her head. “I can’t do that.”

Sebastian disagreed. “That’s exactly what you do. You have a plan, remember?”

Mary shook her head. “One that’s pointless if something happens to you.”

He pulled her close for a kiss, dragging out the contact with her bottom lip for one for ever moment. “You saved me. Now I will do my job and you will do yours. Or, specifically, in a week when our time here is up.”

One week. They would have one week, then maybe in a few years a future. Or maybe not. She bit her lip, staring into his eyes. Just as he had to accept her as the woman she was, she had to accept him as both the incredibly sexy Sebastian and as the indomitable Murder King. Always at risk. Always in danger. Except for this one brief week.

Mary pressed her bare body against his, her voice hoarse but determined. “Then we’d better make it count.”