The Elixir Maidens: Scarlet Read online

  “Her?” A slight warning sign went up in Scarlet’s brain.

  Andrew nodded, his gorgeous dark blue eyes gazing into Scarlet’s with an expression that made his heart beat faster. “I tend to spend holidays on my own. What’s your excuse?”

  “Oh, my band mates and I will be having Christmas dinner together tomorrow night.”

  “So you guys must be more than just coworkers?”

  Scarlet grinned. “We’re friends, if that’s what you mean, nothing more, except Richie -- or Crimson -- by his stage name, is also my Creator.”

  “Speaking of names, may I ask what your real name is, Scarlet?” A slight smile played around his fine lips.

  Scarlet sighed and toyed with the napkin beside his plate. Giving his real name was like giving a little piece of himself. With this guy he had intended to remain Scarlet, flirtatious vocalist.

  “I’m sorry,” Andrew said quietly. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked. I’m not familiar with the rules you play by --”

  “I’m not playing.”

  “Look, this is going wrong.” Andrew sighed, squeezing his napkin in one of his large fists, his expression rather tense.

  Scarlet hadn’t considered Andrew might be just as nervous and apprehensive as he was, for any variety of reasons.

  “I’ll be honest,” Andrew said, glancing from the crushed napkin to Scarlet. “I’m not really comfortable in social situations. I guess I’m what they call a lone wolf. Buried in my work, not the life of the party --”

  “What do you do for a living?” Scarlet asked, thankful for a way to guide the conversation away from the obvious discomfort they both shared.

  “I’m an armorer. I started training back around the year 1010. I began with helmets, then progressed to -- god, that was stupid. Why would you want to hear about the history of every piece of hardware I’ve ever made?”

  “No, I think that’s really interesting.” Scarlet leaned closer, fascinated by the way Andrew’s eyes took on a sexy vampiric glow when he talked about his craft. Besides, he’d always had a thing for the he-man type -- blacksmiths, warriors, ranch hands. “Do you still work steel the old fashioned way, or do you have any modern conveniences?”

  “I’ve allowed in some technology, but I still like working steel like we did in the old days. Lately I’ve specialized in sword making. I have a great forge on my property upstate. Maybe you could see it sometime.”

  “I’d like that very much,” Scarlet said sincerely. “Fencing is one of my favorite pastimes. Richie is an excellent swordsman and taught me everything he knows.”

  “Great. If you’d ever like a partner…”

  Scarlet drew a rather sharp breath, feeling a stirring deep inside him that he usually only experienced when taking someone’s blood. As a mortal, the tragedy of his youth had stolen his ability to achieve orgasmic pleasure. Only when he became a vampire and experienced the taking of blood was he able to feel a real, mind-blowing climax for the first time in his life. Right now the thought of sipping Andrew’s blood had his body temperature soaring and his mind spinning with images of them locked naked in a fierce embrace.

  For a moment, he was so wrapped up in carnal thoughts that he forgot to keep his mental guard up. Andrew’s mind touched his through the telepathy innate to most vampires. That brief sharing of thoughts revealed Andrew’s attraction to Scarlet.

  Damn, this was intense. Frightening but thrilling at the same time.

  “I mean, if you’d ever like to practice together -- swordplay. With our swords.” Andrew’s heartbeat increased audibly to vampiric ears. A waitress approached and he released a relieved breath. “Thank God. What do you want for dinner, Scarlet?”

  After the waitress took their order, she left them alone.

  “I’d love to practice swordplay with you,” Scarlet said. “And, Andrew, you don’t need to feel uptight around me. I’ll only bite if you ask.”

  He smiled and reached across the table, covering Scarlet’s hand with his much larger one. It was very warm, the palm callused. Strange for a vampire. The only thing that could have caused such roughness on vampiric skin would be silver.

  “Scarlet, I --”

  “You can call me Greg,” Scarlet said, his pulse racing. “Greg di Alberto is my real name.”

  “Greg.” Andrew smiled slightly. “I’m really glad you agreed to meet me for dinner tonight.”

  Damn, this guy was turning out to be absolutely irresistible. He had the body of a warrior yet possessed an innocence that would have been refreshing centuries ago, let alone in this modern age. He came across as all man but had somehow managed to retain just enough vulnerability to give him that big-eyed puppy appeal.

  The waitress brought their food and they began eating with gusto. Apparently not even first date jitters could ruin the appetite of two healthy male vamps.

  “I wanted to tell you again I really loved your show, especially your solos. You have a fantastic voice.”

  “Thank you. I’ve been studying music for as long as I can remember. My parents died before I ever knew them, and I lived in an orphanage managed by nuns until I was seven. I started singing there. Then a bishop heard our choir sing and selected me and a couple of other boys to attend a cathedral choir school.”

  “I knew you were classically trained when I heard you.”

  Greg gazed at him with a knowing expression. “An armorer who’s into music?”

  “My Creator was a very wealthy opera patron in France. She shared her knowledge with me and I’ve loved music ever since.”

  “Were you and she --”

  “Lovers? Yes. That’s how she selected most of her offspring.”

  “So you like women?”

  “No. I mean, sure, I like women and in my youth I was with a few, but they’re not my preference. Salina offered me a lot in exchange for sexual favors, including immortality.”

  So it seemed Andrew wasn’t quite as innocent as he looked. “Not much warmth to a relationship like that.”

  “I guess not. The way I’ve spent my life, buried in armor and weapons, I never developed many social skills. Salina didn’t seem to care, and she did almost make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Couldn’t turn my head from the forge though, and believe me she tried.”

  “Big mistake.”

  “What was?”

  “Trying to turn you away from something you love so much. I can see that whoever wants you for keeps will need to accept the forge.”

  Andrew held Greg’s gaze and murmured, “Yeah. I suppose.”

  Greg’s hand strayed to the armorer’s. He caressed the prominent veins on the back of Andrew’s hand and traced each long finger.

  “Would you tell me about your Creator?” Andrew asked. “How did you meet?”

  “Well, the chorus master at the choir school was an absolute bastard. If we didn’t toe the line, he used to beat us with a strap and lock us in a dark cell without food, sometimes for days at a time. When I was eleven I ran away and ended up wandering the streets of Rome. That’s where Richie found me. He was visiting there when I tried to pick his pocket. Rather than beat the hell out of me and turn me over to the authorities, as I expected him to, he bought me a good meal and asked if I wanted to travel with him. I’d learned not to trust anybody, but I knew I couldn’t survive much longer on the street, so I agreed.

  “For the first couple of years I fully expected him to become some sort of monster -- and I don’t mean a vampire. But he never harmed me. Not in any way, nor did he ask anything of me except to give up stealing and accept the education he offered. It was then I began to explore music again. The chorus master had taught me to hate it, but Richie -- who is a great musician -- showed me how to love it more than I ever had. He was the father I never had, and he was my friend. When I turned twenty, I asked him to make me a vampire and he agreed.”

  “He sounds like quite a guy.”

  “He’s the best.”

  “Which Maiden is he? The redhead or th
e one with the black hair?”

  “The black wig.” Greg grinned. “He really has short brown -- actually, there he is.”

  Greg pointed to the dance floor where a tall, lean man with a roguish expression danced with a busty blond waitress. Greg waved and Richie winked. “He’s such a lady killer.” Greg chuckled.

  “Literally?”

  “No.” He laughed louder. “Just in the proverbial sense. Richie can be tough when the situation calls for it, but he’s never been into senseless killing and taught me the same.”

  “That’s good to know, and I share the same point of view.”

  Throughout dinner, Andrew and Greg talked, mostly about music and places they’d traveled. Once Ruby interrupted their conversation to say good night.

  Just your indiscreet way of trying to find out the name of my dinner date, Greg told him telepathically.

  Can’t blame me for being curious, Ruby replied before he and his lover, Hagen, excused themselves and left the club area.

  Greg found himself relaxing in Andrew’s presence. The man’s quiet yet friendly manner and his skills as a great listener made him easy to talk to. Everything about him -- from his expressive eyes to his deep, smooth voice -- aroused Greg like no one he’d met before. Rather than play the part of the sexy singer, he acted more like himself than he had in front of anyone except Richie and Ruby.

  When the meal ended, Greg and Andrew sat, staring at one another, a single question hanging heavily in the silence. The last thing Greg wanted to do at the moment was leave Andrew’s company, but in spite of his attraction to the armorer, he still lacked the courage to make the move that would take them from the dining room to the bedroom.

  Finally, Andrew cleared his throat, gazed at Greg with a melting half smile and said, “You wouldn’t by any chance like to come home with me tonight?”

  “No,” Greg replied, butterflies beating away at his stomach, “but I’d love to take you upstairs.”

  “Works for me.”

  Greg led the way out of the club. On their way upstairs, Andrew took Greg’s hand and squeezed it gently. Their gazes met. Greg began to worry. He hadn’t intended to bring up the fact that he was a castrati, but if he planned on taking Andrew to bed, he had no choice.

  No sooner had Greg closed the door to his room behind them than Andrew placed a gentle hand behind his head and drew him close for a kiss. The armorer’s lips were firm yet soft and slightly moist, just like Greg preferred. Slowly he thrust his tongue into Greg’s mouth, tasting and exploring with strokes that were both tender and demanding.

  Though he hated breaking such a soul-stirring kiss, Greg slid a hand between them and pushed against Andrew’s broad chest. Damn, his pecs were rock-hard, like one would expect from a man who worked metal for a living.

  “Everything okay?” Andrew whispered.

  “Before we go any further, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  Nodding, Andrew held his gaze.

  “If you’re familiar with classical music, then I’m sure you know what the term castrati means?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, I am one. The chorus master insisted and at the time the church considered it perfectly acceptable. It didn’t matter that I did not.” Greg tried to keep the bitterness from his voice. Even after so many centuries, he was still infuriated over what had been stolen from him.

  “I assumed as much when I heard you sing,” Andrew said.

  “It doesn’t bother you?”

  “No.”

  To Greg’s surprise, even greater fear struck him because he was now another step closer to taking Andrew to his bed. Grasping at one last excuse, he said, “If it’s the Scarlet image that turns you on, I’ll have you know I don’t usually dress like this offstage.”

  Tilting his head slightly to one side in a most endearing manner, Andrew said, “Yet you met me for dinner like this?”

  “I’ll be honest, I thought you were a fan. I assumed you expected me to be --”

  “I wasn’t expecting anything except dinner conversation. I won’t lie and say you aren’t attractive, but to be honest I’ve never gone for a man in woman’s dress. It’s not your wardrobe that attracted me, Greg.”

  “Then what did?”

  “The look in your eyes.” Andrew reached out and cupped Greg’s cheek. “The sound of your voice. Then, over dinner, your manner got to me. There was something between us, and the fact that you asked me up here gives me hope that you felt it too.”

  Andrew took a step closer. Greg dropped the hand between them, as if he could have overpowered Andrew even if he wanted to.

  “I know many human castrati have difficulty feeling sexual pleasure, but am I right in assuming exchange of blood gives you as much pleasure as any other vampire?”

  Greg nodded. “I am able to feel orgasmic pleasure through blood sharing, yes.”

  “Good.”

  A tremor of passion darted through him when he felt the swipe of Andrew’s tongue along the side of his neck followed by the slight pressure of his fangs. “Fuck, yes.”

  Andrew wrapped his arms snugly around Greg and penetrated his flesh with a slow, deep thrust of his fangs.

  A whimper of pleasure escaped Greg’s throat and he clung to Andrew, his hand sliding up his powerful back and feeling the tightening of his muscles as he grew more aroused.

  Andrew’s thoughts brushed his mind. You taste so good.

  Greg relished the sensation of Andrew’s hard cock trapped between their bodies, pressed so close their hearts seemed to beat in unison.

  Completely lost in sensation, Greg clung to Andrew. Never in his life had he experienced such complete arousal. The urge to bite Andrew to further intensify the pleasure almost overcame him.

  I want you to bite me, Andrew’s velvety telepathic voice spoke in Greg’s head.

  Andrew unzipped the back of Greg’s dress and slid it off his shoulders. Greg lowered his arms and allowed Andrew to push the dress off completely, then remove the bra beneath. When Greg reached for Andrew’s sweatshirt, he raised his arms so he could more easily remove it. Tossing the sweatshirt aside, Greg stared at Andrew’s bare torso, his pulse racing at the sight of the broad-shouldered mountain of muscle. A mat of curly black hair covered Andrew’s wide chest and tapered to a thin line down the middle of his six-pack abs.

  “Wow,” Greg breathed, running his hands over Andrew’s chest. His fingertips traced his collarbone and roamed over his powerful shoulders. “Your body is amazing. Do you work out like twenty-three hours a day?”

  Andrew grinned, the hint of a blush coloring his high cheekbones. “I like to lift, but working with metal and weapons helps keep a guy in shape.”

  “I’ll say.” Greg caressed Andrew’s abs, loving the feel of warm flesh over rock-hard muscle. Andrew leaned closer and kissed his cheek, then his forehead.

  “Would you do something for me?”

  “What?” Greg asked, meeting his gaze.

  “Wipe off the makeup?”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “I just want to see your face when we make love.”

  “All right. How about if I go wash this off and you…” Greg bent and ran his tongue up Andrew’s stomach to his breastbone. “Finish getting naked and meet me on the bed?”

  Andrew grasped Greg’s upper arms and positioned him so he spoke against his lips. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Just as Andrew was about to kiss him, Greg slipped from his arms and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Quickly removing his shoes and the remainder of his underclothes, Greg thought how the evening wasn’t going at all like he’d planned. He hadn’t intended to sleep with Andrew. In truth, he hadn’t expected to enjoy his company this much. Andrew was a polite, sexy gentleman, while at the same time a regular guy, easy to relate to and ultra-masculine.

  After washing his face and patting it dry, he stepped back into the bedroom.

  Naked, Andrew sat on the end of the bed. From his p
owerful torso to his long, well-muscled legs he was the epitome of male perfection. Greg drew a deep breath, the scent of Andrew’s lust filling him. The armorer’s semi-erect cock sprang completely to life.

  Other than a passion for blood, Greg had never experienced arousal, had thought himself incapable of feeling it -- until now. He approached and placed his hands on Andrew’s knees, guiding them apart so he could kneel between his legs. He caressed his hair-roughened thighs, relishing muscles that were as hard as the steel he worked. Finally he grasped Andrew’s cock and took the head between his lips.

  With a lustful groan, Andrew grasped handfuls of Greg’s hair, his entire body tensing with pleasure.

  Greg closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Andrew’s smooth cock head against his tongue, of his satin-skinned shaft patterned with veins. One hand stroked his cock while the other sought his balls. He kneaded and rolled them, squeezing and exploring, briefly wondering how such handling felt.

  Through their psychic connection, Andrew relayed his pleasure to Greg who, for the first time in his life, experienced the sexual pleasure of a man. The frustrating sensation of impending fulfillment almost overwhelmed him. To further enhance it, Greg used his fangs to gently pierce Andrew’s ultra-sensitive flesh.

  “Ah!” Andrew released a raw cry of animal passion, his hips thrusting in time with Greg’s rhythmic sucking and licking.

  When Andrew came, waves of pleasure from their psychic connection broke over Greg. One collapsed, panting and moaning, onto the floor, the other onto the bed. His eyes tightly closed, Greg surrendered completely to pleasure.

  After a moment, he felt Andrew’s hands close over his upper arms and guide him onto the bed where they lay side by side.

  Greg opened his eyes and turned to Andrew, who stared at him with a satisfied smile. He rolled over, half draping Greg with his powerful body, but Greg welcomed such closeness, especially when Andrew licked and bit his shoulder. He lapped blood and once again stirred their desire.

  “Andrew,” he breathed before sinking his fangs into the armorer’s shoulder and joining the delectable feast.

  Greg lost track of how long they lay, wrapped in each other’s arms, drinking and throbbing in vampiric pleasure.