Ancient Blood: Deep Red Part 19

"I recall you mentioning something about one," Vincent said. "Rafe is the consultant."

Trixie appeared surprised as she said, "A gardener? Coming down in the world, Rafe?"

"Hardly, my dear." Rafe sat on a chair opposite Vincent and Trixie and placed his briefcase on the gla.s.s coffee table. He opened it and removed what appeared to be a long, thick plant stem.

Sir Edward took the stem from Rafe and turned it between his slim fingers. Closing his eyes, he sniffed the brownish plant, then held it out to Vincent.

Vincent's heartbeat quickened as he examined a plant that looked completely foreign to him. He inhaled the sweet, wild scent. If this was what he thought it was...

"Yes," Sir Edward whispered. "It is what the Network calls the Flower." Vincent and Trixie exchanged skeptical looks.

"It's the truth," Sir Edward continued. "Why do you think you've never been able to give an accurate description of some of the blood served here? It's the essence of the Flower. Smell it."

Vincent sniffed the stem, then pa.s.sed it to Trixie who did the same. "Taste it," Sir Edward murmured.

Trixie hesitated, and Vincent grasped the stem from her fingers, almost fearful she'd change her mind and taste it. Certain poisons were deadly to their kind, and he didn't trust Sir Edward a bit.

"Please." Sir Edward took the stem from Trixie and bit. By the pressure their host applied to break through the stem, Vincent well understood why their kind possessed fangs. If this was truly the food of the Originals, they would need sharp teeth simply to survive.

Sir Edward pa.s.sed the stem back to Vincent who took a hesitant bite. It smelled and tasted almost exactly like some of the wine they'd been drinking since arriving at the mansion.

Vincent licked his lips clean of the sweet taste. "If you've had this all along, why hide it? And since you have hidden it, why tell me now?"

"Because I felt the need to be honest with my people."

Sure, and you want to sell me some swamp land in Florida, too, Vincent thought.

"It's long past the time for secrecy. This could mean a whole new way of life for us."

"Disappointing," Vincent murmured.

"What is?"

"That we're equipped with all these natural weapons, and all they're used for is to suck juice out of a weed."

"That was crudely put, Vikenti," Sir Edward said. "The existence of this plant could help make the world far more endurable."

"By whose standards?" Trixie demanded.

"By anyone who loves peace and hates violence," Sir Edward said.

"Where did you get this plant from?"

"From the private collection of an old hybrid."

"Where is he now?"

"Dead. Killed over a decade ago. His name was Edrik."

Vincent grunted. He was familiar with Edrik. The world was a better place with the b.a.s.t.a.r.d dead, but he'd always thought it a pity no one had access to the plants and poisons he'd possessed, most from the vampire home world.

"Why tell us this?" Trixie said.

"We plan to tell everyone soon and thought it would be a good idea to start with a couple of our guests."

"Shouldn't you be informing the Network instead of us?"

Sir Edward held Vincent's eyes for a long moment, an odd smile on his lips. Finally he murmured, "All in good time, my friend."

Vincent leaned back, taking another long sip from his wine gla.s.s. Son of a b.i.t.c.h. He knew they worked for the Network.

"So how long have you been married?" Rafe asked Trixie. Vincent allowed his fangs to slip from their sheaths. This pasty-faced p.i.s.ser was really starting to bug his a.s.s.

"We're newlyweds," Vincent growled, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees, his eyes fixed on Rafe's.

"You're a lucky man." Rafe accepted a winegla.s.s from Sir Edward and lifted it in Vincent's direction. "Carol -I mean Katrina is a woman of many talents."

Trixie stared at Rafe, and Vincent didn't doubt he was the only one in the room who could feel her hatred of him. Vincent's stomach tightened with antic.i.p.ation. Looks like it was getting to be time to clean his claws again.

After finishing their drinks and engaging in some useless chatter with Sir Edward and Rafe, Vincent and Trixie excused themselves and left the stuffy room filled with the intoxicating scent of wine and the Flower.

"Motherf.u.c.kers," Trixie hissed under her breath as she stormed down the hall and into their own room.

He closed the door behind them and leaned against it, his arms folded across his chest as he watched her literally rip off her clothes and drag on shorts and a tank top.

"So are you going to tell me about it?" Vincent asked. "It's in the past. Doesn't matter."

"Oh sure."

She flew at him, one hand pressing his throat to the door, the index finger of her free hand pointing in his face. "Just leave it alone! And don't be trying to act like the big man over me! I can take care of myself!"

The odd sensation of hurt feelings washed over Vincent. d.a.m.n. He forgot emotions like that went along with love.

He grasped her arms and shoved her on the bed. "Do you know how many women would like a guy like me showing his fangs over them? And you're b.i.t.c.hin'!"

"Pocket the ego!" she snarled. We're here on business, Dilorenzo! IfRafe is going to affect your performance, it is my business! Nothing affects my performance!

"Fine," Vincent snapped. Then on to the case. You know why he showed us the Flower, don't you?

He's on to us, Trixie thought. And he's trying to use the Flower to divert us from something bigger.

Something Seraphim's hiding in that cave, I'll bet.

We'll know that soon enough. Didn't you say the rest of the Jury will arrive on Friday? They'll question him then.

Vincent shook his head. If Seraphim wasn't such a d.i.c.k, I'd almost feel sorry for him. The Jury can be ruthless. I remember the living h.e.l.l they put Matthew through once upon a time. No wonder why he'll never join the Network. They want information from Seraphim and they won't care what they have to do to force it out of him.

I get the feeling Seraphim can take care of himself.

Sure. But this is the Jury we're talking about. All those old vamps together could rip a guy's mind apart digging for what they want.

No. Vincent didn't envy what Seraphim was about to face on Friday.

"I'm going for a workout." Trixie shoved her feet into sneakers and tied them quickly before heading for the door.

Vincent grasped her upper arm and tugged her to his chest. He resisted the urge to kiss her as their eyes met. He didn't like what he saw in hers. Hurt. Vulnerability. That son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h Rafe got to her, and Vincent wanted to know why.

"I don't want to talk about it," she whispered. "There are more important things right now than ancient history."

"Then save it for later," Vincent growled against her ear. "Like it or not, I'm on your side."

Her expression softened for a moment and she kissed his cheek. "I like it. I'm just not used to some guy 'showing his fangs' over me, that's all."

"The difference between me and other guys is I'm man enough for you." She winked. "If not, then you're real close to it."

"Hey!" he shouted as she slipped out of his arms and disappeared down the hall.

He nearly punched himself. What was he crazy letting her work out alone in those shorts that showed off her cute a.s.s?

Vincent began discarding his own clothes, a grin on his face. The trampoline awaited. But first he had to get a message to the Network.

He picked up his cell phone and dialed Jules' number.

When the secretary connected him to the hybrid doctor, he began speaking in code he hoped Jules would understand, "Dr. Kane? This is Mr. Valeric The herbal remedy I was looking for? I got it and it works great."

"Y...You found it?" Jules stuttered.

"Yes. My wife and I will be coming back to the city tomorrow and I can pick up another prescription then."

"I'll make sure everything is in order for you."

Vincent drew a deep breath. That meant Jules was going to spread the word to Adam. That evening, he and Trixie would make an excuse to leave the mansion. He was dying to see what the skinny liar Seraphim had to say, because now more than ever Vincent didn't doubt he knew everything about Sir Edward, his connection to the Flower, and much, much more.

In the gym, Vincent watched Trixie from the corner of his eye as he exercised.

She paused at the top of the climbing wall and snarled, "If you're going to waste time watching me, we may as well get some good out of it."

"No problems here." Vincent grinned, his c.o.c.k twitching at the thought of his favorite kind of contact sport.

Trixie seemed to have something else in mind, however. She dropped to the ground and strode to the fighting ring in the next room, raising her hands to a defensive position. "Let's go."

"But -"

"What's the matter, darling?" she asked too sweetly as he stepped through the ropes and approached, his hands relaxed. He didn't want to spar with her-at least not outside of the bedroom.

She lunged at him so suddenly he scarcely had time to block the punches aimed at his face and the kick flying toward his midsection.

"Let's go, lover boy!" she snarled.

Vincent's teeth slipped from their sheaths and he raised his hands. d.a.m.n, she was s.e.xy when she fought! Though his strength far surpa.s.sed hers, she was an excellent fighter and he found her challenging. He might have really enjoyed the match had he not been more interested in f.u.c.king her into unconsciousness.

Over an hour later, they were grappling, their sweat soaked bodies entwined, their eyes gleaming and fangs bared. Vincent pinned her body beneath his, but instead of releasing her to continue the match, he held her hands to her sides and buried his face in her neck, licking and kissing until she squirmed.

"Let's go to our room," Vincent growled in her ear. Unfortunately, the gym was fairly crowded and the trampoline would have to wait.

Trixie threw him off her and climbed through the ropes.

"I'm not sure I like this att.i.tude, my dear." Vincent grasped her upper arm, refusing to let go even when she tried pulling away. Her glare made him draw back.

Trix, would you just tell me what's wrong?

She hurried to their room, and once inside, flung her arms around his neck.

"Make love with me," she whispered in his ear.

Make love with her? That didn't sound like Trixie.

You feel something for me, don't you, Dilorenzo?

Isn't that obvious, Trixie?

Show me.

For the first time, Vincent felt a bit awkward. He was d.a.m.n good at f.u.c.king, but making love? Wasn't there some kind of art to making a woman feel loved during s.e.x? He'd never really tried mixing l.u.s.t with affection. Or maybe he did.

"Vincent?" she whispered. She must have been serious since she'd just risked blowing their cover by calling him by his real name. He almost didn't care if someone was listening.

Trixie needed him-she needed him. G.o.dd.a.m.n. How could he handle this?

Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her gently, his lips moving against hers with tenderness that was foreign to him, yet somehow the sensation was just as erotic as a violent kiss. Without breaking contact with her mouth, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed.

He placed her gently on top of the sheets. "This shirt mean much to you?" he asked.

She shook her head, her eyes melting into his. Vincent used his claws to gently slash away her tank top, not so much as touching her skin. He tugged the tattered fabric from under her and held it to his face, inhaling her delicious scent.

Stretching out beside her, he used his fingertips to stroke her from shoulder to hip, then followed the same path with his mouth.

"You're beautiful," he said.

She smiled. "I like it when you tell me that."

"It's true." He slid down her body and knelt at the foot of the bed. He tugged off her sneakers and socks. Her shorts and panties followed. He shed his own clothes quickly and covered her body with his. Chest to breast, cheek to cheek, they lay still for several moments, enjoying the feeling of each other's heartbeats and synchronized breathing.

"I want you so bad, baby," he whispered against her lips. His tongue tenderly stroked every moist corner of her mouth. Her own did the same to him, and Vincent's pulse quickened. Still, he moved slowly, gently, teasing her with deep kisses and gentle nips of his incisors.

He licked her belly, using the tip of his tongue to trace the shape of her navel while his hands stroked her inner thighs. As his thumbs caressed the joining of her hips and groin, he buried his face between her legs and licked her c.l.i.t. The tender little nub grew plump beneath his wet caress, and as he continued sucking and licking, his fingers slipped inside her damp, throbbing p.u.s.s.y, pushing her over the edge. She moaned softly, fingers clutching his hair. Her palms moved to his back and her fingers gripped his shoulders as he slid into her, closing his eyes against such perfect sensations.