The Bite of Winter Page 5

  “How often do you find these true mates?” she asked, fascinated by the thought of vampires somehow becoming more human.

  He shrugged. “Connor and I went a century before we met Lara. She touched us both in that way, and neither of us could resist her.”

  “You both loved the same woman?” Zoey couldn’t imagine that scenario ending well. Both of them struck her as possessive and she’d only known them a short time.

  “We did. Lara, bless her, didn’t seem to mind. She handled the both of us just fine.”

  Her face heated and her body flushed with interest. “By both you mean…” she couldn’t dare finish.

  “In bed. At the same time. We weren’t jealous of each other, and she liked us both equally. It was an arrangement all three of us enjoyed.” He admitted it so simply, as though he truly hadn’t minded it at all.

  “Are you and Connor…lovers?” She blushed at her brazen question, but she wanted to know.

  Ian shook his head. “No,” he chuckled. “Lord, no. We are like brothers. Sharing a woman is something we can do and enjoy doing, if the woman wants both of us.”

  An image came of her stretched out over Ian’s body, him filling her, while Connor was behind her, kissing his way down her back, his hands rubbing…

  Zoey shook her head. What a dangerous thought. Tempting too.

  “Would you ever do that again? Share a woman with Connor?”

  Ian froze, still holding the plates. His face was a painting of sadness, grief coloring his eyes and the shape of sorrow twisting his mouth downward.

  “If the right woman came along, another true mate, one who would love us both, perhaps. But I would want to keep her, forever. I would want to ask her what I never had the chance to ask Lara. That she turn immortal, so Connor and I wouldn’t have to lose her. Neither of us can suffer that again.”

  Whatever spell of melancholy had woven around his features seemed to ease and vanish. Zoey was thankful. She knew just how deep such wounds could be and how they never fully healed.

  She digested his words. Change into a vampire? Could she do something like that? Could she be someone’s true mate? The odds were against her, since neither man mentioned she was. It made her heart ache and she rubbed at her chest with one hand.

  She waited, ignoring the stab of hunger as best she could, while Ian filled a plate for her. When he returned to the couch, he set two plates of food on the black wooden coffee table.

  “So do you drink blood from the vein like Connor, or do you drink from bagged blood or something?” It was a valid question. Connor had after all, sank his teeth into her neck and drank when they’d been…well, no need to dwell on that. Vampires only drank blood in the movies and books, right? Then again, she probably shouldn’t be accepting horror movies as any type of truth for what real vampires were capable of.

  His lips quirked. “I drink from the vein.” Ian lifted her legs up on the couch and sat down, placing her legs onto his lap and settling the thick blanket over them both before reaching for their food.

  She took hers gratefully, inhaling the heady scents of the most delicious food she’d ever smelled in her life.

  “But you’re eating food…” She gestured to the small mountain of tacos he had on his plate, while she picked up a cheeseburger on hers and took a hearty bite. The moan that escaped her lips was very unladylike.

  Her mother would have given her a “look” if she’d been there. Her mother had always stressed a woman was judged by her manners. A pang of longing shot through her, momentarily killing the hunger. She’d have given anything to have her mother back, even for just a few minutes.

  She sent a silent apology to the heavens.

  Sorry, Mom, I’m so hungry.

  “Good?” Ian’s lips twitched as he took a bite of one of his tacos.

  “You have no idea. My last meal was from the garbage can outside that diner where you found me.”

  “Dear God…”

  Shame colored her cheeks. But somehow her ability to filter what she said had gone out the window when she’d started eating. It just felt so good to have something so tasty and warm hitting the empty black hole of her stomach.

  She flushed an even deeper red and tried to divert his attention. “So, food. You’re a vampire but you can eat it?”

  He blinked, eyes softening as he let her change the topic of conversation.

  “I can eat. My body doesn’t need it, but when I’m inspired, I can certainly enjoy food. I thought it would be rude of me not to eat when you do. It has been several years since I’ve wanted to eat. I’d forgotten how much I like tacos.” He chuckled and offered Zoey a fork.

  She took the utensil and used it to fill her mouth with fried rice before replying.

  “Inspired?”

  “Vampires lose their appetites when they lose interest in life. When you live forever, things around you change faster, even though you do not. When you’re a mortal you live life at this breakneck pace, racing to fill up your life with memories, emotions, thoughts and sensations. With a vampire, that’s all slowed down to a snail’s pace. There’s no hurry, no rush. You have forever to do as you wish. And so many things lose their appeal over time.”

  “What about blood? Do you have to kill someone when you feed?” Her heart pounded harder as she waited for an answer.

  “No. It depends, of course, on the vampire. Control is really what matters. Some vampires like to kill, but most do not. The risk of discovery by mortals is too high. Connor and I drink enough to leave the host human healthy. We don’t kill.” The way he said that last part made her feel as if he almost said “anymore.”

  “So you really live forever? You don’t die or turn all Nosferatu and get all creepy?” she asked.

  “No. As long as we have blood every now and then, we stay just the way we are.”

  “Immortality sounds nice.”

  Zoey didn’t miss the grimace on Ian’s face. “It’s a curse. When you lose urgency, you find you do very little with your life. It becomes tedious and then meaningless. For men like Connor and me, ’tis hard. We were raised to work, to help others. The idle life of immortality doesn’t suit us. We’re easily bored. You…however, you fascinate me.” His eyes had become bright as Chinese jade. “When I was buying food for you, I had to order some for myself. I wanted to taste the food, see if it was as delicious as I remembered. I was inspired by what you would feel and wanted to experience it myself.”

  Zoey had a feeling there was some deeper meaning to his words, but she couldn’t decipher it, and she was too hungry and tired to give it much thought.

  “Oh,” she replied. She knew she’d have to face this whole “vampires are real” issue later. After she was full.

  His rich baritone laugh made her skin tingle with a new awareness of his masculinity. It intruded upon her instinct to eat. How long had it been since she’d been near a handsome man and been able to think of something other than food and finding a warm place for the night? Too long. Now she was on a stranger’s couch, her legs over his lap, sharing a meal in an incredibly intimate setting.

  “That’s all you have to say? Oh?” He echoed her tone and she laughed. His green eyes lit up again with that light that bewitched her. “You find out we are vampires and you don’t have anything else you want to ask?”

  Zoey was distracted by the muscles of his throat as he took another bite of a taco. Sure, she had plenty she wanted to ask, but right now she was torn between thoughts of food and sex. A ridiculous giggle bubbled up from her lips. She sounded like a guy. Sex and food on the brain.

  “What?” Ian asked, eyeing her thoughtfully.

  “Nothing.” She resumed eating and with a shrug, so did he.

  Once she was stuffed to overflowing, she put the plate on the coffee table and settled deeper into Ian’s arms. It was all too much. Her stomach wasn’t r
eady for so much real food after months of near starvation. After only a few minutes, the nausea struck. She struggled out of Ian’s grasp and ran for the bathroom.

  “Zoey?” Ian’s voice was close behind as she reached the toilet and fell to her knees over the porcelain bowl. Her stomach clenched, and she retched violently. Zoey’s hands shook on the toilet seat as she coughed and spit up. Cool hands settled on her shoulders, pulled her hair back from her face, keeping it out of the way. Even now, Ian was too good to her.

  “Breathe through your mouth, rest your head on your arms,” Ian coached. His touch was soothing as he rubbed her back. “I’ve been to enough late nights at pubs to know how this works.”

  Her stomach roiled again but she swallowed it down and sucked in a quivering breath.

  “I’m so sorry…I ate too much. Should have known.”

  “It’s my fault. I should have remembered you wouldn’t be able to handle so much. I would have been better off bringing you soup.” His lips brushed her temple in soft kisses.

  She winced. “You should leave me…” She coughed again. “I’m not exactly at my best.” With a low groan, she spit into the toilet and her stomach twisted again.

  His arms wrapped around her and his chin settled on her head. “I’ll never leave you, Zoey. Not when you need me the most.”

  “Why? Why do you care, Ian? I’m nobody to you.”

  “You’re wrong. You mean something to me, love. When I saw you in the alley way, being attacked, I watched you try to protect that book of sketches you have. Against my better judgment, I intervened. When I came over to you, lying there, dying, I saw those sketches and photos all over the ground. You had such vision, you showed such an understanding for life. Someone like that? I couldn’t just let them die. And now that I’ve kissed you,” he chuckled, “I think… I might be addicted to your taste.” He said the last bit in a teasing tone, but she couldn’t help but hope it might be true.

  She harrumphed, but managed to smile. “Can I have a glass of water and some mouthwash? I feel better.” It was true. Her body seemed to have relaxed after getting rid of the contents of her stomach. Pity. She’d loved eating all of it and now she had an empty stomach again.

  Ian let her go and retrieved what she needed. When she was done rinsing her mouth, she sagged back onto the floor and shut her eyes.

  She was so tired. Exhaustion was like a heavy wool blanket, weighing her down and surrounding her with warmth.

  “Are you ready to sleep?” Ian’s question barely made it through her fatigue.

  She nodded jerkily, unable to control herself. She wanted to collapse against him and rely on his strength for support. Again she thought she ought to have been bothered by all this. Why was she so willing to let him take control? But for some reason she trusted him. An Irish vampire. Imagine that.

  “Up you go.” He rose from the bathroom floor, Zoey in his arms. She laid her head on his shoulder, loving how perfect it felt and knowing sadly it wouldn’t last. It was her last thought as sleep closed in and swept her away.

  Chapter Five

  Ian carried his delicate bundle down the hall toward his bedroom. He had no intention of taking her anywhere else. She belonged to him, even if she didn’t know it yet. Zoey needed someone to look after her and provide for her. It was an old-fashioned notion, perhaps, but he was as old-fashioned as it got. It was a man’s duty to spoil his woman and give her everything, even if she didn’t need it. Zoey was in desperate need of spoiling.

  The rags she’d been wearing—he’d thrown them out as soon as she’d stepped into the shower. He’d peeked of course, seen her enjoying herself and slipped back out, leaving one of his shirts for her to wear. He was a man, not a saint.

  Scratch that, he was a vampire, not a man.

  He’d been a lusty man even before he’d been turned, as he recalled. The blood lust of a vampire seemed to have heightened his sexual needs and desires. Yet there was a price to it as well. A curse that cut deep.

  Because of the glamour, he could never be sure if a woman he was with truly desired him, or was merely responding to what he was. It wasn’t their fault, they truly believed they felt what they did, only to wake from it like a pleasant dream once he was no longer around.

  He just wanted to feel normal, to lust after a woman who truly wanted him back, not worrying about whether it was the vampiric pheromones that lured her into his arms like a docile lamb. When he’d kissed Zoey in the bathroom, it had taken every ounce of control he had not to lay her on the floor and taste every inch of her satiny skin. It had been so long since he’d felt that desperate for a woman in that way.

  But she was fragile now. He had to respect her and respect how she must be feeling. Only a cad like Connor would take advantage of her in such a state.

  The damned fool.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Connor muttered from the doorway.

  Speak of the devil and he appears.

  “I do.”

  Ian saw his friend leaning against the doorframe. His arms were crossed and his brows lowered. Their skittish black cat, Cleo, rubbed against Connor’s ankles, purring loudly. She’d taken a shine to Connor and vice versa, not that he would ever let Ian see him return her affections. Ian often heard him talking to the cat in low soothing tones when he believed Ian couldn’t hear.

  “What if Seamus comes back, Ian? Do you want another death on your hands?” Connor’s tone seethed with repressed anger.

  Ian froze in front of his bedroom door.

  Seamus. The name filled him with dread. Life had a funny way of changing those things that used to seem so certain. Seamus had once been like a brother to him, just as Connor was, but when they’d been turned that all changed. Seamus had rejected the plight of their village, instead choosing to follow in the wake of their sire, stealing lives and indulging in his thirst for blood. He’d turned his back on all the things that had made him human.

  Ian and Connor had rejected their sire’s cruel lust for pain and death, killing him when they first had the opportunity, and forever making an enemy of their old friend. It had been revenge that led Seamus to slay their beloved Lara, but Ian knew, as well as Connor, that the cold fire in Seamus’ heart had not dulled since then. If he found another opportunity to hurt them, he would.

  Even knowing that, in his heart Ian was loathe to admit it. “We haven’t seen him since 1923. He won’t come back. He took Lara. Shouldn’t he consider himself avenged?”

  Connor’s bitter laugh was anything but reassuring. “You know better than that. Seamus will never stop. He wants us alone and miserable. It gives him purpose.” His eyes burned into Ian’s with an intensity born of certainty. “You bring the lass into this, and she’s as good as dead. Not tonight or tomorrow, but someday.”

  Ian looked down at Zoey’s face. The dark circles under her long lashes filled him with worry. She needed him. He needed her. He wouldn’t let Seamus take her away.

  “I’m tired of running away. If he learns of her, if he comes here, I’ll be ready. He has no right. If you won’t stand up to him, I will.” Ian walked away, leaving his friend in the hall without another word.

  * * *

  A large silver-coated Bengal cat lay stretched out on Ian’s bed.

  “Off with you, Titus.”

  Titus was one of their three strays—Cleo, Titus and Lizzy. Cleo rarely left Connor’s room and Lizzy was far too independent to stay in either of their rooms. She preferred to make the living room and kitchen her personal space.

  Titus raised his head, his golden eyes unwavering as he stood, stretched and pawed the thick bedspread before he finally pounced off the bed and stalked imperiously from the room. Ian grinned. Titus and Connor didn’t get along, probably because they had too much in common.

  Finally, Ian was alone with Zoey, exactly what he wanted. He set her down on the bed and s
he stirred. He closed the door and turned back to her. All cleaned up, dressed in one of his shirts, she was an erotic fantasy come to life. A small frame, full of muscles and curves in all the right places, though too thin from lack of food, something he’d soon remedy. Her silky hair tumbled around her face and shoulders in waves.

  Soon he hoped to be fisting his fingers through it, tugging as he plundered the sweetness of her mouth. He could tell she was innately passionate. He would work to bring her to climax and savor each little shiver and cry of pleasure as he learned the song of her body. She’d beg for his touch when she was ready, and he’d happily give it to her and more, once she was on fire with arousal.

  Ian shrugged out of his clothes and tugged on a pair of flannel pajama pants. He didn’t feel the cold, of course, but he wanted Zoey to be warm when she slept next to him, as warm as she could be next to a vampire. He paused, considering this. An electric blanket might not be a bad idea.

  He pulled back the thick down comforter and slid his arms under Zoey’s back and knees, lifting her up and tucking her into the bed. She sighed, buried her face in the pillow and rolled over as he walked around to the other side.

  Her dark lashes fanned up as her eyes opened. Her gaze pierced him like a lance. Such innocence, such life, such hope had once been there, yet it was clouded now by countless days of pain and heartache. To have gone from such happiness to such hopelessness…he knew all too well what that was like.

  The night after he turned, the world had become shades of red as he fought his thirst for blood. The vampire who had sired him and Connor, Seamus had cruelly sealed them inside their small cottages with their family members. Unable to escape, he had done the unthinkable and fed on his own parents and his sister, tasting their blood and cursing his soul to hell as he did. Only then, when he lay among their bloodless corpses, did his sire set him free.

  Connor had endured the same fate, and there was a hollowness in his friend’s gaze that hadn’t vanished in two centuries. There had been no tears to shed, but his heart had bled all the same as he’d had to leave his life and his slaughtered family behind. Seamus had fared better, but little did they know it was because he’d found a taste for darkness. They’d had to go with the vampire that sired them, but after a few short years, they’d learned how to survive on their own. Only then did they have the chance to kill their sire and escape, while Seamus swore revenge.