Blood Curse Page 11

  "I didn't do anything to you,” he answered, “not intentionally anyway. And I honestly don't know what killed your mother.” He turned away from her scrutinizing gaze and let out a sigh filled with frustration.

  "You know something,” Aria coaxed, trying not to sound so irritatingly persistent, but her patience was running out. “You have an idea, a theory. Don't you?"

  His silence was her answer. The guilt rolled off him in waves, painting a picture for her that she didn't want to see.

  "It was a vampire, wasn't it? One of you killed her."

  "Aria—"

  "No!” She extended her arm in the universal sign for stop, palm facing toward Rialto as he turned. “Don't come near me. Don't try to fill my head with more lies."

  "I never lied to you."

  "Oh really? Then give me an answer. What did you discover last night? What killed my mother?"

  As his stormy gaze struggled to hold hers, his expression was pained. Deciding that he would never admit to one of his kind being the monster that took her mother's life, she cursed violently and started toward the door, ordering him out on her way.

  "You're not safe, Aria."

  She paused to glance over her shoulder. “I'm not safe from what? You? Your kind?"

  "My kind wouldn't harm you. We damn sure wouldn't kill an innocent woman, and especially not in that way. I already told you we never drain a body."

  "Then what drained my mother?” She asked the question, swearing that if he said he didn't know one more time she would throttle him.

  "I already told you I don't—"

  Aria let out a steady stream of curses as she attacked Rialto, barely registering the fact that he took each blow of her fists as if they were made of air. She hit him repeatedly, pummeling her fists against the unrelenting wall of his chest while he stood there quietly, not saying a word.

  Her energy was drained much sooner than it should have been. No surprise to her. She had been feeling lethargic for the better part of the day. With one final, useless blow she slid down Rialto's body until she landed at his feet, a quivering, feverish mass of spent anger.

  "I hate you,” she sobbed as she felt her body temperature spike. “I hate you for what you are and what you've done to me."

  "Join the club,” he muttered after a long pause and stepped over her. She wasn't surprised when he left the room, but it still hurt. How could she have been so stupid to have slept with a man who didn't give a damn about her? She waited to hear the front door open and close, but the sound didn't come. Assuming he had left via the balcony doors in her bedroom, she struggled to stand.

  "Whoa now,” Rialto said from behind her, his arms encircling her waist, catching her before she tumbled back to the floor. “Let's get you into bed.” He scooped her up effortlessly, even though he still looked wan and ill.

  Aria groaned as his words ignited a flare inside her body. She still ached for him, physically and emotionally. She shuddered as she draped her arm over his shoulder, her face snug against his chest where his masculine scent teased and tormented her. She heard his heart pounding like a base drum, calling out to her. She licked her lips and trailed her fingers down to rest over his heart. If only she could rip through the flesh . . .

  "Here we go.” Rialto lowered her onto the bed, the sheets already pulled back. His dark eyes smoldered as he withdrew from her. He knew what she was feeling, felt the same desire himself, if his eyes were telling the truth. “We can't,” he said breathlessly and pulled the thin cotton sheet over Aria's body.

  "We can't or you don't want to?"

  "I want to more than you know,” he said calmly, but his eyes were full of emotion as they locked onto Aria's. He held her gaze, looking at her as if he were being forced to, as though he couldn't physically tear his gaze away from hers. Something swirled in his eyes, something intense and hungry that begged to be sated. Aria unconsciously grabbed him by the front of his black shirt.

  His mouth met hers with an urgency that refuted any notion that he didn't desire her with the same level of intensity she felt. She sank against the mattress as his body fell on top of hers, molding perfectly to her every curve. His hands explored her body quickly, desperately, as if he feared he might not have enough time to find every intimate locale.

  Aria let her doubts fade away and slipped her hands beneath his shirt, luxuriating in the feel of silky smooth skin stretched over taut muscles. A feeling of intense longing swept over her. She was as close as she could get to Rialto physically, but that wasn't close enough. She wanted inside him, wanted to be melded with him for eternity. She could have that, she knew, as the memory of Seta's voice echoed in her mind. All she had to do was share his blood. Rialto's lips were on her earlobe, mere inches from her throat.

  Rialto let out a growl as he picked her up and, still inside her, rammed her against the wall. She gasped in pleasure as he repeatedly thrust inside her, sending her into one orgasm after another, but it wasn't enough. She wanted to share blood. As another orgasm engulfed her body, she screamed his name and used her nails to cut through the skin at her own throat, offering this dark creature of the night the same thing he had given her

  The fragment of dream was so real Aria had to blink. She was still on the bed and although things were definitely progressing in that direction, Rialto wasn't inside her . . . yet. She wanted that badly, but there was something else she wanted even more.

  Forever.

  With Rialto.

  She scraped her long nails against the soft skin of her throat.

  Rialto stiffened instantly as the warm droplets of blood slipped from her neck. Although the scratches were small and shallow, the effect was massive. Rialto lifted his head to meet her eyes, his breathing heavy and labored. She trembled with anticipation and a touch of fear as she gazed into those beautiful black depths which were glowing with want. He looked as though he could eat her alive, and when he licked his lips, revealing the tips of elongating fangs, she thought that was exactly what he was going to do. She felt the most intimate parts of her tingle at the thought, and her fear subsided as her own hunger grew to match the intensity she saw etched into the hard lines of his face. With an eager hand, she grasped the back of Rialto's neck and guided his mouth downward.

  He froze, his mouth hovering just over her fresh wound, his body trembling against hers.

  "Rialto?” Desire made her voice husky. He didn't respond. He didn't move other than to quiver. She could feel his breath on her neck, hear it coming out in strong puffs. She thought he had slipped into some sort of seizure, until he bellowed out a crude curse and lurched from her body. He was out of the room in less than a second, but he returned before Aria even had time to process that he was once again rejecting her.

  "Wash away the blood,” he ordered viciously as he threw a damp rag on the bed. “All of it! I don't want to see or smell a single drop when you're done!"

  Aria gaped at his retreating back as he left her alone in her room, his hard footsteps punishing the floorboards. She sat there for a moment trying to understand what had just happened, almost too scared to move. Never had she seen anyone so angry. Finally, she picked up the rag and wiped away the red droplets of blood welling above her scratches.

  When she entered the living area a good fifteen minutes later, she found Rialto pacing the floor, his fists clenched at his sides. His eyes were black as night, not a trace of compassion to be found in them. He marched toward her, and she found herself trying to disappear into the wall at her back.

  "Don't you ever tempt me like that again,” he warned from between clenched teeth as he stopped before her, so close his breath teased her skin. “You're playing with poison, Aria. Deadly poison."

  She cringed under his voice's unmerciful tone, her gaze focused on his chest, too scared of what she would find in his eyes from this close of a vantage point. An aura of fury seemed to hover around him, causing the hair at the back of her neck to rise. “I don't understand,” she whispered once she fou
nd her voice, too frightened to speak at a normal volume.

  "Of course you don't.” His voice was less harsh than before, but she still cringed when he raised his hand to cup her cheek. Noticing the reaction, he stopped short and emitted a very hostile-sounding foreign word before spinning away. “Dammit, Aria, I'm not like your first lover. I wouldn't strike you. Come here and sit!"

  Aria lifted her eyes to find him sitting on the coffee table, tapping the sofa cushion before him with his hand. She slowly inched her way over to the sofa and sat on the arm. His face fell as he watched her perch on the edge, slightly more than an arm's width away. “Are you really that afraid of me? All I did was yell."

  Telling herself she was overreacting, Aria forced herself to take the seat he had indicated and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them so that she was tucked into a nice little ball. If she thought the position would make her feel more secure she was wrong. She couldn't have felt more vulnerable if she were sitting here stark naked. “I don't understand what's happening. I don't understand why I act the way I do with you—so desperate. And I don't know why you're angry. I thought you wanted me in the same way."

  "I do,” he said softly as he touched her cheek, caressing the skin there with his thumb, “but you're a luxury I just can't afford.” His hand fell away to rest on his thigh. “Don't feel ashamed of your behavior, Aria. You can't help it. Bloodlust is a strong force, not so easily stopped."

  "Bloodlust?"

  He sighed heavily, running a large tanned hand through his hair which had sprung free from its elastic band sometime during their encounter in the bedroom. “Generally, non-vampires don't experience it. Hell, I've rarely experienced it, considering the amount of time I've been a vamp, and never this intensely. Sometimes the taste of blood fuels other desires, more sexual in nature. As your sexual desire intensifies, it revs up your hunger for blood until you're insatiable both sexually and thirst-wise. The two desires blend together until you can barely control yourself. With you, I'm afraid I could totally lose control."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "I've never hungered for anyone like this before. I'm afraid if I let myself . . . indulge, I might not be able to stop until it's too late."

  "You're afraid you would kill me."

  "That or something worse."

  Aria felt chilled down to her bones. What fate could be worse than death? “So you're saying we can never be together even though we both have dreamed of one another for years, and we both feel an insatiable desire for one another?"

  "Yes."

  It didn't make sense. Something, some force, had led them to each other. There was a reason why she dreamed of him. There had to be. How many people dreamed of a stranger they would one day meet? There was a piece to this puzzle that she was missing and she knew exactly where to find it. Seta. If only she could get to the vampire witch without Rialto knowing.

  "Anyway,” Rialto said, breaking the silence as he reached out to lay the back of his hand against her forehead, “you seem to have cooled down. Let's get you out of here."

  "Why? Where are we going?"

  "I'm joining up with Seta to see if we can find any more victims, and I don't feel comfortable leaving you here by yourself."

  "You're taking me with you?"

  "Not a chance,” he answered as he rose from the table and helped her stand. “I'm taking you to Christian. He will watch over you until I come to bring you back home."

  "Your preacher friend?"

  "Yes."

  "I don't need a baby-sitter, and honestly, what could a preacher do to stop a psycho that wanted to hurt me?"

  "You'd be surprised,” Rialto answered with a devilish gleam in his eye. “Now get out of your pajamas and into some real clothes. It's time to go."

  "I'm staying."

  "Oh, but you are an insufferable woman!” Aria nearly laughed at the look of exasperation on Rialto's face. “I've just told you that a murderer is after you and you want to stay here by yourself? Are you insane?"

  "I want to go with you and Seta."

  "You're a liability. I've already told you that."

  "So you think I would be in danger with you?"

  "Yes."

  "But I would be fine in a church in a very seedy neighborhood with God only knows who coming and going, my only protection being a man who believes in turning the other cheek and the golden rule?"

  "Just put some damn clothes on before I dress you myself!” Rialto barked.

  "That could be fun.” Aria regretted her words the moment she saw Rialto's jaw clench. She half expected to see steam puffing out of his ears. “Okay, bad idea. I get it. Don't get your panties in a twist.” She raised her hands in mock surrender and headed for the bedroom.

  Rialto muttered out a string of curses in Italian, his native tongue. It was an old habit that came out when he was extremely frustrated. Aria was as infuriating as she was beautiful, and dammit, if that spark to her personality didn't make him want her even more. He was losing it, he knew. The fever and cold chills, the gnawing hunger that had increased when she cut through her own skin . . .

  How in the hell was he supposed to protect her when all he wanted to do was ravish her and get this craving for her blood out of his system? He was physically ill with the need to have her. It was imperative that he get her out of harm's way, and then get as far away from her as possible. It would hurt like hell, but he couldn't chance the repercussions of staying with her for much longer.

  "So are you ready to take me to my great protector?” Aria asked as she reentered the room.

  Rialto grinned at her sarcasm. If only she knew the power of the man who would be protecting her. He turned to see her and groaned. She had poured herself into a pair of body-hugging jeans, soft and faded in all the right places, and a tight, black rib-knit top. “Don't you have any loose clothes?"

  "You don't like my outfit?” Her fake pout was his undoing.

  Rialto groaned again. “Trust me, that's not the problem.” Keep it in your pants, he reminded himself before he did something stupid like lower her to the floor or take her against the wall. “Let's go."

  "And just how are you planning on getting me out of here without going through the reporters? They've been out there all day looking for a comment for their damn stories."

  "They won't even see you.” Rialto laughed at her doubtful expression as he guided her out the front door and locked it behind him.

  "We're just going to walk out the front entrance?” Aria shook her head as they headed down the hallway toward the stairs which would take them to the apartment building's front entrance.

  "Correction,” Rialto said, stopping her with a firm hand. “I'm going to walk right out the front entrance. You're coming along for the ride, just try not to squeal too much if it excites you. I have hypersensitive hearing."

  Before Aria could say another word, he scooped her up into his arms and raced down the staircase, out the front doors and through the small group of reporters and photographers at a speed that defied all scientific reasoning. A second later, as he lowered her to the ground six blocks away, his hunger was at a dangerously high level.

  He sat on a nearby bench trying to regain some of his spent energy while Aria stood before him turning in a circle, gaping.

  "Wow,” she finally gasped. “I've read about vampiric speed, but . . . Wow."

  Rialto smiled softly, remembering how in awe he'd been of every new feat he'd discovered and mastered as a newly-turned vampire. He wondered if Aria would be as avid as he was to learn all the tricks and skills.

  He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to shake out the image of Aria as a vampiress. That line of thinking was dangerous.

  "Rialto, are you all right?” He tensed as he felt her cool fingertips brush his hair back from his brow. “You're burning up."

  "I'm all right. Moving that fast drains a lot of energy. I just need to rest a little.” He eased his head down against the back o
f the bench and tried not to jump when he felt Aria press herself close against his side. Damn, he wanted to taste her. His stomach was roiling with the need for fresh blood, and he knew without a doubt hers would energize him like none other. Unfortunately, he didn't think he would be able to handle that strength enough to know when to stop.

  "You moved fast after killing those punks in the alley and later behind Fat Kracker's when I tried to run away. You didn't need to rest then."

  "That was different."

  "How so?"

  "I wasn't running for a six-block stretch, and I'd just fed behind Fat Kracker's."

  "Rialto, your mother—"

  "Is too nosy for her own good,” he interjected, cutting her off before she could bring up the topic of soul mates and other such nonsense.

  A moment of tense silence passed before she spoke again. “You don't look well, Rialto. I appreciate you promising to find the killer, but I'm making you sick, aren't I?"

  No, not sick. Feverish with desire, he thought, recalling his mother's words.

  "I'm fine, just a little overexerted is all,” he said gruffly as he forced himself to stand. His head spun, but he determinedly refused to let that show. “My finding the killer goes beyond the promise I made to you anyway.” He helped Aria to her feet. “This has gotten personal."

  "Because it's a vampire?"

  Damn, she was stubborn. Yet, it was better for her to think that than to know that it was because he cared for her and couldn't bear the thought of her being harmed. She had already offered herself to him twice, and he didn't know how many more times he could control himself when put into that position. If she knew how strongly he really felt . . .

  "Seta thinks the killer is a witch or someone who has a strong knowledge of black magic,” he informed her. “It is possible—not likely, but possible—that the killer is some type of vampire, but he is definitely not a full-blooded one. We don't know what the hell he is, but yeah, what he's doing has really pissed us off.” More than she would ever know, Rialto thought as he remembered the vision Seta had told him about. No man or creature would ever touch his woman, and whether he could have her or not, Aria was his woman. “Besides, this is my job."