BodySnatchers Read online

  “I put her in a trance,” Yuri responded. Although, she’d already been in a mild state of shock from blood loss and running into him.

  Torsten leaned close to sniff at her neck. “Ummm. She smells tempting.”

  His friend’s gesture sent a rush of blood to Yuri’s face, and his fists tightened. “Back off.”

  Straightening, Torsten leveled piercing blue eyes on Yuri. “Unless you plan on keeping her, you need to get her out of here before she wakes.”

  “You’re back so soon?” Melisande’s lilting voice preceded her into the room. When she stepped into the dining area, she ground to a halt, her gaze fixed on the woman lying across the table. “What is she doing here?”

  “Bleeding at the moment,” Torsten said, his gaze never leaving Yuri. “Shall we serve her up for dinner? She’s in the right place.”

  “Don’t be crude, Tor.” A faint dip in her delicate brow signaled Melisande’s displeasure with Torsten’s remark. She strode to the table and perused the woman as if examining a new bedspread for the queen-size bed in her room. “She’s pretty in a manly way.”

  Yuri’s frown deepened. The woman’s curves had burned an indelible impression on his hands. “There’s not a manly bone in this woman’s body.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized Melisande was fishing for the answer to his involvement with a strange woman.

  The sparkle in Melisande’s eye could not be mistaken. Her lips stretched into a grin. “What is it about this woman you felt it necessary to risk all of us by bringing her here?” She lifted a strand of fiery red hair, the coppery highlights reflecting the light from the overhead chandelier.

  Yuri had asked himself that question all the way back to the penthouse suite, carrying the woman in his arms, refusing to allow Torsten to share the burden for even a step. “Some of Andrei’s Dragóns would have taken her. I couldn’t leave her to their machinations.”

  “So you brought her here? Couldn’t you have taken her to a hospital or dropped her at one of those twenty-four-hour trauma centers?” Melisande shook her head. “This is too messy, especially for you, Yuri.”

  “Melisande is right. We’ll have trouble when she wakes,” Torsten added.

  “I couldn’t leave her.” Why was he defending his actions? He was in charge here. “The deed is done.”

  “Which brings us to the next question.” Melisande stared down at the redhead. “What shall we do with her now?”

  “Looks to me like we have at least three choices.” Torsten held a finger in the air. “The first is to dump her back on the street.”

  “Not an option.” Yuri stepped toward the woman as if preparing to defend her. Her trance was so deep, when he lifted her wrist, he could barely feel the pulse.

  “Which leads to your next option, you can turn her into one of us.” Torsten tapped a hand to his chest.

  The idea appealed to Yuri, but he felt the woman would want to make that choice herself. In all his four hundred and twenty-eight years as a vampire, he refused to force the choice to turn on an unconscious person. “No, I will not turn her.”

  “You can heal her and set her free when she is ready. As you did for me.” Melisande’s voice carried through the air.

  Melisande had been with him for the past five years, not as his lover but as his friend and his backup source of the blood he needed to survive. He’d healed an injury inflicted by her abusive father. She was one of the strays Torsten alluded to.

  She placed a hand on his arm and looked up at him with her dark brown eyes. “If you choose to keep her here until she wakes, be careful. She could blow your cover.”

  “If you don’t have the stomach for it, I’ll sacrifice my services and heal her.” Torsten clapped his hands together. “She’s pretty if you like red hair and pale skin. Me? I prefer a sun-drenched wench of darker skin tones. But I never turn down a pretty woman, especially one with hair the color of polished copper.”

  Yuri’s teeth clenched. “I’ll take care of her and heal her. After that, I’ll be the one to decide what to do with her.”

  “You don’t know how she’ll react when she finds out you aren’t human. She might be frightened. Or worse still, she might not like vampires.” Melisande’s gaze roved over the woman’s face, as if recalling her own initial fear.

  Yuri snorted. He already had an idea about her feelings about vampires. Did he think he could change her mind? “I know the risks for us,” he said, his voice coarse, impatient. Time was wasting and her wounds needed tending.

  But would she want him to touch her? What was it she’d said when she’d run into him? The only good vampire was a dead vampire? A smile tilted his lips upward. Was she afraid of vampires? He couldn’t imagine this woman being afraid of anything. Hadn’t she proven her strength and determination when she’d stood up against the Dragóns? Even after she’d been wounded.

  The woman deserved to walk away whole, even if it was a vampire helping her to do so. He didn’t have to turn her, but she might think that was his intent when she came to.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Melisande asked.

  Yuri sighed. “Yes.”

  He gathered the red-haired woman into his arms, her blood smearing across his sleeve. Had he not fed an hour earlier, the hunger would have been washing over him in waves. The scent of blood drew him like no other, but he’d had over four hundred years to learn to control his bloodlust. He hoped the lessons learned would carry him through the other urges not so easily controlled.

  He carried her to his room and turned to close the door.

  “Need my assistance?” Torsten asked, his gaze focused on Yuri not the woman.

  “I do not wish to be disturbed.”

  “What if she tries to kill you?” Melisande asked.

  He smiled gently at his two friends. “I’ll call if I need you.” With a slight kick, the door swung shut, blocking out Torsten and Melisande’s worried faces.

  When he laid her on the bed, she was like a rag doll, completely limp and unresponsive. Her wounds were not mortal, but she’d lost enough blood to weaken her. The trance did the rest. But as soon as he started the healing process, she’d awaken.

  Maybe she’d be frightened. More likely she’d be shocked and angry, thinking he was taking advantage of her. Perhaps that was the reason he’d brought her here in the first place.

  This woman and her foolish bravado intrigued him as no other in many years.

  Yuri glanced at the clock. Dawn was only an hour away. If he planned to do this, he’d need to do it quickly.

  Without another thought to the consequences, he pulled a knife from the sheath in his boot and slipped it beneath the hem of her shirt, the blade slicing through threads until he peeled back the tank top, exposing the wound and a shell-pink lace bra.

  For a woman all in black, the pink bra was a pleasant surprise. Apparently, she had a softer, more feminine side. In order to heal her, he had to strip her clothing away to expose entry and exit wounds.

  He flipped the front clasp and her breasts spilled out of the lace and into his hands. Okay, so he probably hadn’t needed to remove the bra, but he couldn’t resist, and the straps might prove to be in the way across her back.

  His cock flicked against the confines of his trousers, and Yuri ground his teeth together to stave off his rising desire. Although the surge of lust was inevitable, he had no business coming on to this semiconscious woman.

  When he rolled her to her side, she moaned, a low, weak sound in the large room. Careful not to cause her further pain, he eased the remnants of her shirt over her shoulder and down her arms. The back of her shoulder wasn’t nearly as messy with blood as torn flesh from the bullet’s damaging exit in front. At least he needn’t worry about removing the slug.

  Once he had her top half stripped, he removed his own boots and his bloodstained T-shirt. Then he climbed on the bed beside her and went to work.

  Healing an open wound was a delicate line for him to walk with the ta
ste of blood on his tongue and the silkiness of female flesh beneath his fingers. He’d die a thousand deaths before he finished the job. Resisting her would be a monumental task.

  Melisande had been the only other person he’d healed. Doctors were available for this kind of thing. For centuries, he’d lived a quiet existence, blending into the shadows of the places he lived. If he healed every wound, he’d leave himself vulnerable and others would come to realize the truth of his existence. If they learned of his true nature, they’d hunt him down and kill him. Fear of vampires led many to destroy them without considering they were still people beneath the undead exterior.

  Yuri had contemplated that death on occasion, but he wasn’t ready to give up on life such as it was. He had Torsten to keep him company and the occasional woman to warm his bed. Melisande provided sustenance when available donors were limited. What more could he want?

  The woman beside him lay as still as death, her peaches-and-cream skin cool to his touch. He skimmed his fingers over a breast and up to the base of her throat where her pulse beat the strongest. With a deep breath, he leaned into her, his lips pulling back as his teeth extended.

  How easy it would be to sink into her jugular and suck the life-giving blood from her body. To give back in return and make her immortal to stand beside him for eternity.

  He skimmed the long incisors across her neck, pressing lightly without breaking the skin.

  A surge of desire rolled over him like waves crashing against the shore. Struggling against instinct, he proceeded down the base of her throat and across her collarbone to the injured shoulder. He sniffed at the blood still oozing from the wound, like a thick, rich wine to be sipped.

  He tasted the nectar, savoring the flavor of her, his body responding to her naked breasts beneath his chin, within easy reach of his mouth. Each pearly mound jutting upward, begging him to take them into his mouth.

  She stirred beneath him, her back arching upward, a breast pressing against his chin.

  Turning his face just a little, he captured the nipple between his teeth, letting go immediately. He realized his mistake at once. If he didn’t get back to the task at hand, he’d be lost in his own uncontrollable lust.

  He skimmed his tongue over the ragged edges of the exit wound until the shattered flesh grew together, the wound fading with each caress. Once the wound in front had disappeared, he turned her onto her stomach, putting those luscious breasts beneath her and out of reach of his roving lips and baser instincts. Then, with long, sure strokes, he laved the wound on her back, the scar shrinking until it disappeared.

  She stirred in his grasp, groaning and pushing against the bed.

  The taste of her blood an aphrodisiac to his senses, Yuri closed his eyes as the red-haired goddess rolled to her back.

  He inhaled and let out a long breath, schooling himself to a calm he didn’t feel. Yet he fought a losing battle against his body. He had to complete the work and get her out of his bed before he did something they would both regret. He opened his eyes and stared only at fading traces of the wound, refusing to note the peachy tips of her breasts now pebbled into tight beads.

  With one final stroke, the mark completely disappeared and he leaned back to inspect his work. The injury wouldn’t leave a scar to mar the perfection of her skin.

  If he were a gentleman, he’d get off the bed and walk away. He even made a move to do just that.

  She shifted beneath him, her hands rising up his torso to clasp around his neck, pulling him closer until his chest rested against her full, ripe breasts.

  Yuri froze, his arms braced on either side of her shoulders, his mouth hovering over hers.

  Her breath blew softly against his lips, the tangy scent of mint filling his senses.

  Move away, he willed his body. But the body wasn’t going anywhere. Nestled against the soft curves, he couldn’t tear himself away.

  Her leg curved around the back of his calf, and she pressed her crotch to his thigh. “Love me,” she whispered, her eyes closed, her body caught in a lusty dream. She probably didn’t know who she was or what she was doing, only that she needed to be loved.

  Yuri wondered who she was dreaming of. Did she have a boyfriend or a husband lurking in her thoughts and somewhere in Houston? With a quick glance down at her hand, he heaved a sigh. No ring. Good. Then who was she thinking of in her lust-filled trance?

  He knew the intensity of lust, having experienced it when he was turned so long ago by the venomous vampire he thought he cared for. Had he known the consequences of making love to her and letting his passion take over, he might have chosen differently. But Katarina hadn’t given him the choice. She’d fooled him into drinking her blood, turning him into a vampire just like her. When she’d taken what she wanted, she left without a trace. No goodbyes, no false declarations of love.

  Swearing never to trick an innocent, Yuri knew he couldn’t make love to this woman. He had to be very careful. Caught up in lust, he might forget himself and turn her against her will.

  In the meantime, he rolled to his back, trying to ignore her attack on his body. For attack was what it was since he fought to resist with every fiber of his being. The draw was too strong, and when her hand drifted over his abdomen, Yuri couldn’t resist her any longer. He’d only let her touch him, he wouldn’t make love as she begged him to. She wasn’t in her right mind, still caught in the grip of the trance.

  “Please.” She nibbled at his ear, sinking her teeth in a little harder than a nip, enough to make him jerk against her. Her hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pants to fondle his cock.

  Yuri groaned, his nerve endings titillated, testosterone flaming downward, filling him to tight, rock-hard proportions. Resistance might as well be torture. As a vampire, he was even more prone to the call of desire than the average man and much more likely to move on it. Before he could stop himself his hips thrust against hers in an uncontrolled spasm. Mind over lust, he reminded himself, backing away.

  When he shifted, her other hand slipped beneath his hip and pulled him against her, his cock pressing into her belly.

  The moist pressure of her mouth moved from his earlobe to his lips, leaving a trail of fiery kisses along his jawline.

  With her hand still in his pants and her tongue delving between his teeth in the exact rhythm of sex, she had him. Yuri realized this was going to be harder than he imagined. Feeling his defenses crumbling, he tried to pull her hand away from his cock.

  She bit into his bottom lip and held, her hand remaining just where she wanted it, stroking, massaging and stirring his fires to flame.

  “You’ll regret this in the morning,” he whispered against her ear. His lips were so close, and her skin had warmed, the peaches-and-cream texture teasing him until he had to touch his tongue to her neck to judge for himself if she tasted as good as she looked.

  He found her to be a heady combination of sweet and salty, like a tangy margarita, cool to the lips yet warming the palate as the tequila works its magic. He could drink her all up if he let himself. And maybe he would. His heart raced, his teeth elongating, his body taking over where his mind refused to go.

  “Help me, for I can’t resist.”

  The door burst open and Tor and Melisande rushed in.

  “I’ll hold him, you hold her,” Tor said.

  In a wash of red haze, Yuri lunged for Reggie’s throat, the only thing holding him back were the hands of his friends.

  Chapter Three

  Reggie writhed against the sheets, her body burning with need now that the pain was gone. With eyelids too heavy to lift, she gave in to the desire crumbling her inhibitions to dust.

  It was only a flight of the imagination, a wild and sensuous escape from reality, and she didn’t want to wake up until she’d had her fill. In her fantasy, she reached out, her hands finding a warm, solid body to skim across. He was the tall, dark and sexy man she’d run headfirst into in an alley. Had that been in her dream? Her mind tried to make sense of
him. He must have been part of her fantasy. No human could launch another person into the air as if he weighed less than a cat.

  Settling back, she entwined her hands around his neck and pulled him close to her, desperate for a kiss to start. And that would only be the beginning. His muscles were stiff, his hands closing around her arms, squeezing hard.

  “Eager, are we?” she whispered into his neck.

  He resisted her overture, and she reached up to press her mouth to his. She wanted him to make love to her. Did she say it out loud? Had she begged him? Not caring one way or the other, she looped a leg over him to prevent his escape. If he wouldn’t come to her, she’d surely go to him.

  It was a dream after all, and she could do anything she damn well pleased.

  “Make love to me, dream boy.” Her hands slid down his torso and into the confines of his trousers.

  His hips rocked against her, his cock pressing into her fingers, hot and hard and larger than any man she’d ever slept with. Ah, the power of dreams. She could have him any size she wanted. But she wanted him inside her. Now.

  He growled, the sound guttural, primal and sexy.

  “Have you got him?” A woman’s soft whisper intruded in Reggie’s dream. She had thought herself alone. “I’m not sure I can get him to let go.” The woman’s hands peeled the large, strong fingers from her arms and replaced them with softer, feminine ones.

  “Let go,” Reggie cried, twisting against the woman’s hold, her grip tightening around the dark one’s member. “I want him.” She landed an elbow in the woman’s midsection.

  The woman grunted and let go. “I can’t hold her.”

  “Then don’t.” Another voice responded, the words not originating from the man she held by the cock.

  “Did you come to help or to torment?” The rumble in the chest beside her vibrated against her breasts and made her more determined to get down to the skin.

  “We came to help,” the other woman said.

  Impatient with all the talk, Reggie said, “Either help or be gone from my head,” she called out to the shadows in her fantasy. “But don’t try to stop me. This is my dream and I want it all.”