Luther's Return
Page 30
He’d met her eyes and known she was right. They’d fought frequently in the previous months. It was his fault, of course, he knew that.
He’d been too demanding, had wanted to continue the same way with her as before the pregnancy. Wasn’t that what blood-bonded couples did?
He needed her, wanted to make love to her every day. But the further Vivian’s pregnancy had progressed, the less affection and attention she’d shown him. The less she’d wanted him.
“I’m afraid for the baby,” she’d explained. “I don’t want us to hurt it.”
The baby growing in her belly had become her first priority.
Luther knew it was only temporary. He held onto that belief. So he’d accepted it, been the supportive husband and had put his own needs aside. Only his need for Vivian’s blood did he allow himself to satisfy—because as a vampire blood-bonded to a human he could only consume her blood. Everything else would make him sick.
He felt his hunger now as he accelerated his motorcycle into a curve. For two nights he hadn’t fed, but that wasn’t the reason his hunger surfaced now with unmistakable urgency. As he entered the city and stopped at a red light, he felt it in the pit of his stomach. He knew something was wrong.
When he rested one foot on the asphalt and turned his head to the left, the scent of human blood drifted to him. It came from a couple walking arm in arm to their car. And it tempted him when it shouldn’t. Because no blood-bonded vampire lusted after blood other than that of his mate.
“Vivian!” he screamed from the top of his lungs and shot over the intersection, ignoring the cars trying to avoid a collision. “Vivian! Hold on!”
He reached out to her with his mind.
Vivian! Please! Stay with me. I’m here. I love you. Please don’t leave me.
But even as he communicated those thoughts via the telepathic bond, he knew that he wouldn’t get an answer.
Vivian was no more.
Only rage guided his body now, leading him to his house ablaze with lights on every level.
Luther flung the door open. Upstairs, in the bed where he’d made love to her so many times, Vivian lay, lifeless.
Samson and Amaury stood by the bed, silently staring at him as he entered.
Maybe if she’d died alone, he would have been able to accept it. But his friends had stood by. And done nothing.
“You let her die!” His heart turned to stone. “You could have saved her!”
Had they turned her into a vampire, Vivian would have lived.
“I hate you!”
They offered no excuses.
He didn’t hear their condolences, their false words of comfort. False, because they couldn’t imagine what he was going through. None of them had a mate and knew what true love meant.
He’d lost Vivian, his mate, the love of his life. The woman he was going to spend eternity with.
“The child?” he asked, not even looking over his shoulder as Samson and Amaury walked to the door.
Samson’s hesitation and almost inaudible intake of air told him everything he needed to know.
Luther growled, feeling his fangs lengthen. “Leave my house!”
“Luther, when you’re better, we’ll talk,” Amaury said.
Luther pivoted, glaring at the two vampires who’d once been his best friends. “Leave, or I will kill you both!”
They finally heeded the warning.
Silence descended upon the house. He shed no tears, not for a long time, only stared at the pale face of the woman he loved more than his own life. When he ran his fingers over her face, the coldness of her skin shocked him to the core. Never again would he sense her warmth, taste her sweet blood, feel her body shudder around him in ecstasy.
“We’ll be together again one day. I promise you. Just as soon as I’ve avenged your death!”
But Samson and Amaury weren’t the only ones responsible: he, Luther, was the culpable one. His child had killed her. It was his fault. Therefore he had to be punished, too.
15
Blake stared at the bank of computer screens in front of him. Samson was sitting to his left, while Thomas had taken a seat to his right. But this was Blake’s operation. He was orchestrating it. And the four young hybrids, Grayson, Damian, Benjamin, and Ryder were his puppets. He wished he could be there with them, but a mission like this was too unpredictable, and he couldn’t risk being exposed to sunlight should anything go wrong. The hybrids, on the other hand, didn’t have such shortcomings. The sun couldn’t harm them, though silver bullets or a stake would kill them as surely as they killed a full-blooded vampire.
He’d been too demanding, had wanted to continue the same way with her as before the pregnancy. Wasn’t that what blood-bonded couples did?
He needed her, wanted to make love to her every day. But the further Vivian’s pregnancy had progressed, the less affection and attention she’d shown him. The less she’d wanted him.
“I’m afraid for the baby,” she’d explained. “I don’t want us to hurt it.”
The baby growing in her belly had become her first priority.
Luther knew it was only temporary. He held onto that belief. So he’d accepted it, been the supportive husband and had put his own needs aside. Only his need for Vivian’s blood did he allow himself to satisfy—because as a vampire blood-bonded to a human he could only consume her blood. Everything else would make him sick.
He felt his hunger now as he accelerated his motorcycle into a curve. For two nights he hadn’t fed, but that wasn’t the reason his hunger surfaced now with unmistakable urgency. As he entered the city and stopped at a red light, he felt it in the pit of his stomach. He knew something was wrong.
When he rested one foot on the asphalt and turned his head to the left, the scent of human blood drifted to him. It came from a couple walking arm in arm to their car. And it tempted him when it shouldn’t. Because no blood-bonded vampire lusted after blood other than that of his mate.
“Vivian!” he screamed from the top of his lungs and shot over the intersection, ignoring the cars trying to avoid a collision. “Vivian! Hold on!”
He reached out to her with his mind.
Vivian! Please! Stay with me. I’m here. I love you. Please don’t leave me.
But even as he communicated those thoughts via the telepathic bond, he knew that he wouldn’t get an answer.
Vivian was no more.
Only rage guided his body now, leading him to his house ablaze with lights on every level.
Luther flung the door open. Upstairs, in the bed where he’d made love to her so many times, Vivian lay, lifeless.
Samson and Amaury stood by the bed, silently staring at him as he entered.
Maybe if she’d died alone, he would have been able to accept it. But his friends had stood by. And done nothing.
“You let her die!” His heart turned to stone. “You could have saved her!”
Had they turned her into a vampire, Vivian would have lived.
“I hate you!”
They offered no excuses.
He didn’t hear their condolences, their false words of comfort. False, because they couldn’t imagine what he was going through. None of them had a mate and knew what true love meant.
He’d lost Vivian, his mate, the love of his life. The woman he was going to spend eternity with.
“The child?” he asked, not even looking over his shoulder as Samson and Amaury walked to the door.
Samson’s hesitation and almost inaudible intake of air told him everything he needed to know.
Luther growled, feeling his fangs lengthen. “Leave my house!”
“Luther, when you’re better, we’ll talk,” Amaury said.
Luther pivoted, glaring at the two vampires who’d once been his best friends. “Leave, or I will kill you both!”
They finally heeded the warning.
Silence descended upon the house. He shed no tears, not for a long time, only stared at the pale face of the woman he loved more than his own life. When he ran his fingers over her face, the coldness of her skin shocked him to the core. Never again would he sense her warmth, taste her sweet blood, feel her body shudder around him in ecstasy.
“We’ll be together again one day. I promise you. Just as soon as I’ve avenged your death!”
But Samson and Amaury weren’t the only ones responsible: he, Luther, was the culpable one. His child had killed her. It was his fault. Therefore he had to be punished, too.
15
Blake stared at the bank of computer screens in front of him. Samson was sitting to his left, while Thomas had taken a seat to his right. But this was Blake’s operation. He was orchestrating it. And the four young hybrids, Grayson, Damian, Benjamin, and Ryder were his puppets. He wished he could be there with them, but a mission like this was too unpredictable, and he couldn’t risk being exposed to sunlight should anything go wrong. The hybrids, on the other hand, didn’t have such shortcomings. The sun couldn’t harm them, though silver bullets or a stake would kill them as surely as they killed a full-blooded vampire.
