Read Online Blood Ecstasy (Blood Curse Series Book 8) by Tessa Dawn - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tessa Dawn
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waited in the dark, huddled beneath a heavy trestle table in a long, narrow hallway, just above the twisting, iron-railed staircase that led to the second and third floors of the elaborate mountain home. She was somewhere on the third level, and she had already tried every hall, every possible nook and cranny, every doorway and window, on every successive floor, with zero success—nothing would open, and she wasn’t about to go anywhere near the gladiator’s bedroom to try to retrieve her cell phone.
It wasn’t worth the risk.
She tightened her grip on the soft brown throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders, which she had snatched from the great room, and winced at her curious choice of words: Gladiator.
That wasn’t exactly accurate, was it?
The male had claimed to be a vampire .
And, as bizarre and utterly psychotic as that might sound, Rebecca had begun to believe him. After all, he had known her name in an instant; he had moved her body through space, using nothing but his mind; and bless her for being crazy enough to believe it,but the male had flashed a wicked pair of fangs —fangs he had used to bite her, to siphon her blood, and to somehow seduce her like she was some sex-charged siren who couldn’t get enough.
She shuddered at the memory, feeling curiously ashamed.
Dear angels and saints, she had wrapped her ankles around him, writhed like a harlot beneath him, and practically begged him to take her—to use her like he owned her—and she would have seen it through.
How had he done that to her?
And with nothing more than a mere suggestion: You’re going to desire every moment of this. Rebecca Johnston didn’t do one-night stands, and she certainly didn’t go out of her way to seduce a brutal captor.
Yeah, Rebecca was pretty damn sure: Julien Lacusta was not a human male. He was a vampire, or at least an incredible magician, and if any part of what he’d told her was true, then the rest could be true, as well: the Curse, the twin sons, the terrifying Blood Moon, and maybe the fact that he was trying to…somehow…spare his own life.
She bit down on her tongue, trying to stifle a scream—it was all just way too much to process, and she felt like she was going insane. She brought her wrist to eye-level, a reality check of sorts, and stared at the very real emblems and symbols etched into her flesh.
The insignia of Hercules.
That’s what he had said.
And he hadn’t been high on morphine, or crack—or whatever it was that he took—at the time. Before she could consider the implications any further the fact that the vampire also ingested drugs, she heard a heavy set of footsteps meandering down a hall, on the first floor of the dwelling.
Oh shit, he was awake!
She backed further beneath the table, curled her body into a ball, and practically held her breath, trying to remain perfectly still…and quiet.
The footsteps continued through the great room, toward the foyer, and they were unerring in their progression—it was almost as if he knew exactly where she was. She tilted her head to the side, listening more intently, as he began to make his way up the staircase, his footfalls growing louder with every step.
No.
No!
No, no, no, no, no!
He paused on the second floor, but only for an instant, before he continued to climb the stairs to the third. And then, just like that, he took three long strides forward, advancing down the hall, and came to a sudden stop, about five feet away.
“Becca, come out from underneath the table, baby. We need to talk.”
Julien knew that Rebecca was terrified, and of course, he knew where she was hiding: beneath the slender woodentrestle in the third-story hall. He was a seasoned, instinctive tracker, with incredible intuition and skills. Finding Rebecca in his own familiar home had been no more challenging than taking candy from a baby. Her scent, her blood, her heartbeat—everything gave her away—including his own
It wasn’t worth the risk.
She tightened her grip on the soft brown throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders, which she had snatched from the great room, and winced at her curious choice of words: Gladiator.
That wasn’t exactly accurate, was it?
The male had claimed to be a vampire .
And, as bizarre and utterly psychotic as that might sound, Rebecca had begun to believe him. After all, he had known her name in an instant; he had moved her body through space, using nothing but his mind; and bless her for being crazy enough to believe it,but the male had flashed a wicked pair of fangs —fangs he had used to bite her, to siphon her blood, and to somehow seduce her like she was some sex-charged siren who couldn’t get enough.
She shuddered at the memory, feeling curiously ashamed.
Dear angels and saints, she had wrapped her ankles around him, writhed like a harlot beneath him, and practically begged him to take her—to use her like he owned her—and she would have seen it through.
How had he done that to her?
And with nothing more than a mere suggestion: You’re going to desire every moment of this. Rebecca Johnston didn’t do one-night stands, and she certainly didn’t go out of her way to seduce a brutal captor.
Yeah, Rebecca was pretty damn sure: Julien Lacusta was not a human male. He was a vampire, or at least an incredible magician, and if any part of what he’d told her was true, then the rest could be true, as well: the Curse, the twin sons, the terrifying Blood Moon, and maybe the fact that he was trying to…somehow…spare his own life.
She bit down on her tongue, trying to stifle a scream—it was all just way too much to process, and she felt like she was going insane. She brought her wrist to eye-level, a reality check of sorts, and stared at the very real emblems and symbols etched into her flesh.
The insignia of Hercules.
That’s what he had said.
And he hadn’t been high on morphine, or crack—or whatever it was that he took—at the time. Before she could consider the implications any further the fact that the vampire also ingested drugs, she heard a heavy set of footsteps meandering down a hall, on the first floor of the dwelling.
Oh shit, he was awake!
She backed further beneath the table, curled her body into a ball, and practically held her breath, trying to remain perfectly still…and quiet.
The footsteps continued through the great room, toward the foyer, and they were unerring in their progression—it was almost as if he knew exactly where she was. She tilted her head to the side, listening more intently, as he began to make his way up the staircase, his footfalls growing louder with every step.
No.
No!
No, no, no, no, no!
He paused on the second floor, but only for an instant, before he continued to climb the stairs to the third. And then, just like that, he took three long strides forward, advancing down the hall, and came to a sudden stop, about five feet away.
“Becca, come out from underneath the table, baby. We need to talk.”
Julien knew that Rebecca was terrified, and of course, he knew where she was hiding: beneath the slender woodentrestle in the third-story hall. He was a seasoned, instinctive tracker, with incredible intuition and skills. Finding Rebecca in his own familiar home had been no more challenging than taking candy from a baby. Her scent, her blood, her heartbeat—everything gave her away—including his own
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