Blood Claim by Laura Mykles (free e books to read .txt) 📕

away, primal and old, told him it was true. He knew it was true. Just as he had known for some time that this man in front of him wasn't a man. Not any longer. It terrified him, and yet, goddamn him, it excited him more than anything else or anyone else ever had.

Malcolm's stare was mesmerizing. Hunter shivered, unsure whether it was from the possessive gaze or the seductive caress. Both made him weak in the knees, a fine sheen of sweat popping out on his skin as he struggled with the concept of the deadly creature before him and his own ingrained, if foolhardy, desire to court danger in all its forms.

The tangy scent radiated off Malcolm, sharp and faintly metallic. He stood so close, a powerful tower of sculptured white stone, suffused with sensual force and a dominating presence that captured Hunter's most base desires.

He released one of Hunter's arms to reach into his pants pocket. Alarmingly, Hunter found himself wishing for the cool grip back, distressed by the loss of even a little physical contact with this ... this what? Vampire? He could barely make himself think it, let alone say it.

A gold band appeared in Malcolm's hand, the vampire holding it so Hunter could see the inscription on the inside. It read, forever, my true desire, with a date. Today's date but a year from the past. His parents’ wedding date of twenty-six years ago. Malcolm had known his father.

"He was like you? A vampire? That's why his body was never returned?” Hunter's personal history suddenly fell apart, unraveling to re-forming in a different pattern. “My parents weren't killed in a riot?"

"Yes, they were initially. By villagers who had discovered William and his wife had been attacked and bitten by a local vampire that preyed on visiting foreigners. They knew if your parents weren't destroyed properly, they would rise as vampires. Your father awakened early and escaped, only wounded. Your mother was spared the awakening altogether."

"Awakening?” Slowly, his parents’ deaths were making sense, more sense than they had years ago.

"The conversion from human to vampire. It is somewhat ... unpleasant.” Malcolm extended the gold band.

A peace offering or a gift, Hunter took the proffered ring in his free hand, clenching it in his fist, eyes closed and heart aching anew. A dull throb that ebbed to a pinpoint of pain. “It's weird, but I always felt like my father was still near until lately."

He felt the burn of tears but blinked them back, suddenly seeing a different side to this whole surreal situation.

"Did he like being a ... vampire?” There, he'd said it out loud, and no one had laughed.

Malcolm stroked his thumb over Hunter's cheek, again and again tracing the line of his jaw up under his ear and then down his neck, mapping the artery that ended under Hunter's breastbone.

There was a deafening pause while Malcolm stared into Hunter's face, scrutinizing every detail. Hunter knew how much he looked like his father. He knew Malcolm was comparing them at this moment. He could see the recognition in the vampire's expression. Finally, something clicked in Malcolm's eyes. His ramrod-straight shoulders relaxed, and his harsh façade slipped just a bit.

"No. He didn't. He hated every moment of it.” Malcolm sighed and dropped his hand away from Hunter's cheek. Something exasperated, even affectionate, entered his voice, something he couldn't hide with harsh words and a piercing stare. “As ridiculous as it was, William regarded suicide, even as an unholy creature, as out of the question.” He glanced at Hunter's fist, where the wedding ring was still tightly clasped. “He felt it would lessen whatever chance he still had of seeing your mother in the afterlife.” A fire blazed to life in the vampire's eyes, anger and pain obvious. His words were sharp and clipped, resentful, spat out between gritted teeth. “He was full of idealistic theory and foolish sentiment."

"But you liked him.” A flash of insight hit Hunter, leaving a jolt of excitement and, surprisingly, jealousy in his chest. “You had feelings for him, didn't you?” Malcolm sneered at him, but Hunter could see the pain and loss. Malcolm's feelings for William were transmitted in one flashing glare before they were smothered by a murderous scowl, but Hunter had seen and he knew. “You loved him."

It took several seconds for Malcolm to respond, the words resigned and slightly bitter when they did come. “William's heart belonged only to your mother. Forever, just like the ring's inscription says. He hated every single day they were apart.” It wasn't an answer, but it told Hunter everything. Malcolm had loved his father. An unrequited love.

As shocking and unreal as all this was, standing in the harsh embrace of a flesh-and-blood vampire, touch as cool as the late autumn breeze and fangs glinting sharply in the lamplight, it made sense. The pain of Malcolm's fingers digging into his arm was real. The thrill of excitement in his stomach and the heat of desire at his groin were real. The revelation of his father being newly dead meant little. William had been long gone from Hunter's life, if not his memories, for many years. The renewed loss he had momentarily felt dimmed and slipped away.

"And now he's gone. Not so immortal after all. Another old wives’ tale?” He didn't expect an answer, and he wasn't disappointed. He didn't think the vampire was going to offer up a list of viable ways to end a vampire's existence. Certainly not one Hunter might be tempted to use at some point. “How can you be sure he's gone?"

Malcolm pulled Hunter more tightly to his chest, his cock stiff and tall in his pants, pressing into Hunter's bare belly. Hunter's cock answered, full, eager to escape out the top of his partially unbuttoned jeans. Malcolm bared his fangs slightly, the effect at first chilling but ultimately fascinating to Hunter.

"I know because I killed him.” It was a guttural growl, but something choked and painful entwined