Incarnatio (Darkyn #8)

Chapter 6



He shifted under her, and then glancing down as she unfastened the front of his trousers. “You have another reasonable alternative to propose?”

She slid down from his lap, kneeling in front of him as she freed and cradled his shaft between her hands. Delicately she laved the smooth, engorged head of his penis before parting her lips to take it in to suckle.

Velvet brushed against her scalp as he worked his gloved hand through the hair at the back of her head.

“I understand now.” He muffled a groan as she tugged rhythmically at him. “You mean to punish me.”

Samantha felt her dents acérées push out of her palette, and gently scored him with the sharp tips as she drew her head back. He’d taught her the trick of how to do it without drawing blood, although in that moment she wanted nothing more than to bury her fangs in his flesh. She felt the same urge whenever they argued, although she didn’t want to do it to hurt him. Somehow it was mixed up with her endless desire for his body as well as her longing for his love, a dual craving as constant as her need for blood as nourishment.

As always, Lucan seemed to read her thoughts, and dragged her up to his chest. This time, however, he didn’t comfort her, or assure her that the sex was enough.

“Again.” He shook back his long fair hair to expose his throat. “Here.”

Samantha pressed her forehead against his neck, struggling against the instinct. Knowing he offered his blood made the temptation to take it a thousand times worse. “I can’t.”

“It is what we both want, my lady,” he murmured, kissing the curve of her shoulder as he spread her thighs and settled her against him. “It is what we are.”

She could feel the blood beneath his skin, driven by the slow, heavy beat of his heart. Her throat tightened and her mouth ached, and then she couldn’t think anymore. As he pushed his cock into her body, she set her open mouth against him and drove her teeth deep.

As she drank from him, she felt his velvet glove spread over her spine, his fingers flexing like the claws of a cat. He didn’t move inside her or permit her to move, but held her sheathed as he swelled and pulsed deep within. When she tore her mouth away he brought her face to his and took her lips, adding the heat of his kiss to the lingering dark wine of his blood.

When Sam drew back she saw the depth of need in his. “Is this my punishment?”

He slid his big hands down to grasp her hips. “If it is, you must never obey me again.”

He stood, holding her welded against him as he carried her to their bed. There he dropped down atop her and worked himself into her with hard, powerful strokes. Sam had already come but he brought her over again, and then a third time as he used his teeth on her breasts.

When she felt him slow and tense, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, using her inner muscles to clamp down and milk his cock until he pumped his cool, thick semen into her womb.

He collapsed on her for a moment before he rolled them to their sides. Sam combed the bright, soft hair back from his hard cheek and watched his pupils expand from thin slivers of hunger to the full roundness of satisfaction.

“I love this,” she whispered, tracing his lower lip with a fingertip. “And I want this, all the time, so badly I can’t begin to describe it. But in my heart, it’s not about the blood or the amazing sex or anything about being Kyn.”

His eyes moved over her face. “Then what is in your heart, Samantha?”

“You.” She rested her hand over his heart. “I love you, Lucan. That’s why I forgot all the stupid fucking rules tonight. I was scared, and then when I came in all I could see was him between you and me.”

“Jamys Durand did not come here to harm me or anyone,” he said, covering her fingers with his. “He is in trouble, but it has nothing to do with the dead mortal you found. I think Alexandra sent him to me because she believes I can help bring him back to himself.”

“Can you?”

“Nothing is certain,” he admitted. “I rescued him from the Brethren who rendered him mute, so the boy may feel some gratitude toward me. Then again, he was catatonic at the time.”

“If Jamys isn’t involved with my victim, then there’s another strange Kyn in our territory,” she said. “One who could have done this to get to you. Who could be hunting you right now.”

“I’ve been hunted before, my love.” He pressed her closer. “Many times.”

“If anything were to happen to you . . . ” unable to complete the thought, she closed her eyes. “Don’t keep me out of this. Please.”

“We will find the Kyn who did this together,” he said against her hair. “I promise.”

Chapter Four

On the fourth floor of the Coral Palm Weekly Rentals building, an alarm clock went off. A thin hand knocked over a smeared bottle with an inch of cheap wine in the bottom as it groped for the off button, disturbing two cockroaches and an overflowing tin ashtray.

Once she’d shut off the goddamn noise, Alisa crawled out of the frayed, torn cocoon of bed sheets and tottered her way across the scuffed linoleum to the bathroom. There she reached under the sink for the bottle taped to the back of the pipe, and shook out the contents into her palm. Three white oval pills were all that tumbled out, even after she banged the empty bottle against the sink.

By her count, she should have had at least six left. Her fucking source had shorted her again.

She popped the last of her stash, bending over to get a mouthful of water from the tap to help them go down. Three were just enough to take the edge off and get her ass in gear. As she straightened, the bulb over the mirror illuminated the wide white and gray stripes on either side of the part in her hair. Four inches of her real hair color couldn’t have grown out since her last dye job; the stupid hairdresser must have used a temporary color last time instead of the permanent stuff. She didn’t have a wig, but after fumbling a bit she was able to hide the worst of it by drawing it back in a loose ponytail.

“Go see that bitch tomorrow,” she promised her reflection. “Make her do it again the right way.”

She peed before she searched through the clothes scattered around the floor for something she could wear for her nooner. She hated getting up this early, especially after working until sunup, but one of her regulars had called in and wanted her at his office downtown. He was only a half-mile from her source, the stingy cocksucker, who had put her on COD since September.

She could give up the Vicodin anytime; that wasn’t a problem. The synthetic shit was always easier to kick than real morphine. But Christmas was next week, and she’d promised herself a little wine-and-vike vacation for the holidays. As soon as January first rolled around, she’d wean herself off, go after some better trade and start saving for a new place. This rent-by-week dive had gotten old, fast.

The manager, a skinny redneck named George, snapped at her when she came downstairs. “Where’s my money, Red?”

Alisa kept walking, so of course he trotted after her so he could cut her off and get in her face. “I’m going to pick up my paycheck now,” she told him. “I’ll give you what I owe when I get back.”

He sneered. “Whores don’t get no paycheck.”

“Some guys want me for a party,” she lied. “That all right with you, or you want me to wave a magic wand and make the cash appear?”

“Don’t you get fresh-mouthed with me.” He shoved her back a step. “You owe me for three weeks. I want the money.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” She gave his raw-boned arm a half-hearted rub. “We can work it out, George, huh? Like always.”

“You can’t even suck dick worth a damn anymore,” he told her. “I want the money, tonight, or I’m tossing you and your shit out.”

He’d never turned her down before this. Alisa felt her throat tighten, but then remembered the young skank who’d just moved in with her kid last week. That made sense – he was probably getting it day and night off her. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

If she’d had enough cash for a taxi she would have flagged one, but the downtown buses ran every half hour and that was all she could afford until her nooner settled the tab. It made her a few minutes late getting to his building, but it would do him good to wait. He always worked himself up while he did, and since she hadn’t done him in a month or two, he’d be primed.

Larry met her in the lobby as usual, but after staring at her for a minute he turned her around and walked her back out of the building.

“We going to a motel?” she asked him.

“You can’t come here looking like this,” he said, his jowls waggling.

“What’s wrong with how I look?” Her dress needed ironing, sure, and she’d forgotten to put on stockings, but he was acting like she was naked.

“Jesus Christ, Alisa. You look like a frigging skeleton.” He lifted her arm to show her where his fingers overlapped around her wrist. “When was the last time you ate something?”

She couldn’t remember, but that didn’t matter. “You know a lady can never be too rich or too thin.”

“You’re not a lady, and you smell like you haven’t had a shower in a week.” He stopped and took out his wallet. “Here.” He thrust a twenty in her hand. “Thanks for coming by.”

“Wait a minute.” She hurried after him. “Our arrangement is two hundred.”

He wouldn’t look at her. “That was when you were worth it. Maybe you should check into some rehab place. Get some intervention or whatever they call it.”

“I am not a junkie,” she screamed at him. When he didn’t answer her, she trotted after him. “Okay, okay, Lar, I’m sorry. I’ve had hard times lately, and I got up late this morning. I’ll go to the ladies and clean up.” He wouldn’t stop walking. “I’ll do whatever you want. You wanted to try anal with me on your secretary’s desk, didn’t you? We’ll do that.”


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