Page 34 of Bitten & Burned

Fourteen

MARKED

Serpentine Bay, Euraline, Verdune

I woke to the warmth of his lips on my cheek. First the right, then the left. Then, finally, on my mouth.

My eyes fluttered open. I smiled lazily, reaching up to thread my fingers through Anton’s maddeningly perfect hair. Perfect even after the night we’d had.

I tugged him closer, kissing him, my hands moved down his torso—and I was mildly outraged to find him fully clothed. Again.

“Good evening, ma chatonne,” he murmured.

“Good evening to you... But why, in the name of the Four, are you wearing clothes?” I let my fingers drift to the buttons of his shirt—undone just enough to tease, but revealing nowhere near the amount of skin I required at the moment.

He chuckled and kissed me again, this time on my forehead.

“I had planned to go ashore to run a few errands. We’re docked, so you’re completely safe here. I just… need to pick something up. I hope you and the Four can forgive me.”

“Pick something up?” I asked, my fingers trailing over the dusting of chest hair peeking through at the top of his shirt. “What’s something?”

“A surprise.”

“Oh, will I like the surprise?” I asked coyly, biting my bottom lip.

“I certainly hope so.”

“What is it?”

“Rowena,” he chastised gently. “If I tell you, there’s no surprise.”

“I know, but I’m impatient.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

I shifted, draping my left leg over his hips. “And what can I do to make you impatient, too?”

Anton groaned, but kissed me on the forehead. “Gods, you are perfection. The only thing I want right now is you… But I should go fetch this gift first. I’ll be gone no more than an hour.”

“You’re going to leave me here? Naked and helpless and all alone?” I asked, faux-wounded.

“You are most certainly not helpless,” Anton said, kissing me and gingerly removing himself from under my leg. “And you’re not alone. Fig’s here.”

“And the crew you brought along.”

“Well, actually, it will just be Fig, I thought you might wish to forego clothing for the rest of the evening, and I wanted you comfortable enough to do so outside the stateroom…”

“Up on deck?”

“Under the moonlight?” he added. “Yes, Rowena, I want to devour you under the moonlight. Is that so terrible?”

“Not at all, but when you get back? I’m tearing that shirt off you. Hope you’re not attached to it.”

He slid out of the bed, standing and adjusting his collar.

“Darling, I’d let you rip every piece of clothing I own if it pleased you to do so.”

“If you plan on leaving me alone every evening, perhaps I will.” I rolled onto my stomach and scooted closer to him.

“Oh, don’t pout. Or do—it makes your lips especially kissable,” he said, bending to demonstrate that fact. “If you’d like, I could tell Quil to come stay with you while I’m gone, but I fear we wouldn’t be able to get rid of him if we did that.”

“Should I get dressed?”

“It’s not necessary, but you may want to—for fear of giving the poor man a fit.”

I sighed. “Fine. I’ll put something on. And here I was, just getting ready to embrace the nudist life.”

“I’m sure I can get you back there. We’ll be out on the sea for a few more days yet. Plenty of time to moonbathe in the nude and worship your perfect body…” he said, grinning as he stood. “Shall I fetch Quil? He’s bound to be slinking around near the docks.”

“Yes. Get him. I miss him,” I admitted, the words surprising even me as they left my mouth.

Anton leaned down to kiss me once more. “I know you do… take care that he doesn’t bite you until I’m here to supervise.”

“I don’t think he will. Not anymore—even if I beg him,” I said softly.

Anton sucked his teeth. “I don’t know, darling, you’re very difficult to say no to.”

“And yet, you still do,” I countered.

“I didn’t say no. I said not now. An hour. No longer. Feel free to go back to being a nudist if I am a second late.”

“Fine,” I said. “Be careful.”

He smiled softly. “I will. I’ll come back to you, Rowena.”

He went to the suite door, pausing there. “Quil will likely be here soon. I’ll tell him to give you a few minutes to get dressed.”

“Okay,” I said. “Now go, so you can come back.”

He lingered a few seconds longer, admiring me as I lay tangled in his silk sheets before he left, disappearing into the night.

I allowed myself a few more seconds of luxuriating in the feather bed after Anton left before groaning and trying to run my fingers through my hair.

It did not go well.

With a dramatic sigh, I stood and went to the bathroom. Being with vampires meant mirrors were hit-or-miss—most of them didn’t bother—but Anton, thankfully, kept one over the sink.

I groaned again when I saw the rats’ nest my hair had become after the night I spent with him. On the positive side, the rest of me looked… pleasantly debauched.

I had his bite on my neck, soft bruises on my breasts where he’d sucked at my skin. I didn’t even want to check my thighs. I smiled at my reflection—at the slightly dazed, thoroughly ruined woman blinking back.

Gods, Anton was good for me. I could only hope I was half as good for him.

I dressed. Barely. I pulled on one of Anton’s dress shirts and buttoned it over a fresh pair of slip shorts from my valise. After washing my face, I spent longer than I wanted brushing out the tangles in my hair. Eventually, I gave up and braided it over one shoulder.

When I stepped back and took in the full picture, I looked exactly how I felt: thoroughly fucked and blissfully so.

Which was good. Because I had been.

Creaking echoed from the deck above.

Must be Quil.

“I’m down here, I’ll be with you in a minute!” I called out, loud enough to carry.

No answer.

I frowned. Maybe he didn’t hear me.

More footsteps overhead. At least two—no, three sets. Odd. Anton said that the crew wasn’t supposed to be back until morning.

Still, I sighed and shrugged. This was as much effort as I was willing to spend on presentability.

I left the bathroom, scooped the comforter off the floor, and tossed it onto the bed.

If Quil came in, he probably didn’t need to see the full destruction of the suite Anton and I had left in our wake.

Footsteps on the stairs.

“I’m in the master suite!” I called again, back to the door as I bent to grab more pillows.

I felt it before I heard it. A shift in the air. My skin prickled. I felt icy cold. Something was wrong.

That wasn’t Quil.

Not the crew either.

Definitely not Anton.

I didn’t even have time to turn around.

A pair of strong arms encircled my waist, yanking me back. The scent hit me immediately—sweat and blood, smoke and rot. No leather, no soap, no trace of the men I trusted.

On instinct, my fingers extended, as I tried in vain to access the magic I’d not been able to reach in ages. My back arched as a shiver of sensation jolted through my fingertips. It was more than I’d gotten since that night months before.

My victory was short-lived, however. I was spun hard, forced to face three people.

Not monsters. Not exactly. But their eyes were wrong—dilated wide.

Their grins were too wide, their breathing was too loud.

They looked high. Wired, like violence was already pumping through their blood, and they didn’t care to stop it.

Their clothes were wet and mangled, hair a mass of knots. And the smell.

Inera, help me. The smell was awful.

I couldn’t even register genders. Just limbs and breath and eyes fixed entirely on me.

I kicked. Screamed.

“No!”

The one holding me barely flinched.

“That her?” rasped the one in front.

The one behind me didn’t answer. Just inhaled, like he was trying to suck me up into his nose.

My skin crawled.

“Thought so,” the one holding me muttered. “Could smell her stink from the shore. Where is it?”

I thrashed again, jabbing my elbow into ribs and clawing at the arms locked around me. My fingernails bit into skin, and I felt flesh give.

There was a sharp gasp behind me—then, suddenly, I was dropped, hitting the floor hard.

“What happened?” the raspy one barked. “Why’d you let go of her? Don’t just stand there—grab her! I need to see the mark. Make sure she’s ours.”

I tried to scramble, but my knee slammed into the edge of the bed frame. Sheets tangled my feet, and then a hand clamped around my ankle, yanking me back. I shrieked, clawing at the floorboards.

“Stop it, stop!” I kicked backward wildly, trying to connect with something—anything.

“She’s feisty,” giggled the one behind me—a woman, judging by the pitch, her laughter sharp and high. “I can’t hold her and check her, you’ll have to.”

“It’s all that vampire blood she’s got in her,” said Raspy. “Makes ‘em crazy.”

A massive hand gripped my leg. I was hauled upright. I went limp, dead weight in his arms, just to make him work for it.

“Fuckin’ bloodbanger,” he snarled. He didn’t even speak to me directly. He leaned in, squinting at me like I was some artifact. “You marked up, bitch?”

I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.

So I spat in his face.

He growled; the sound was deafening. Then his hand cracked across my cheek so hard my head spun. My ears rang, my mouth flooded with the taste of copper. Blood.

He hit me.

He hit me.

My breath came in short, shallow gasps. My body trembled.

They’re going to kill me. Or worse.

“Tiny, calm her down,” Raspy growled.

A massive arm snaked around my throat and squeezed.

Everything blurred—hands on my chest, yanking buttons, rough fingers on my thigh, my shirt wrenched high—

And then the darkness took me.