Samson's Lovely Mortal
Page 98
“You stubborn vampire! Fine, you won’t bite, I’ll have one of your friends bite me, and then I’m going to force-feed you my blood. Do you understand?” Anger colored her voice, and she saw something flicker in Samson’s eyes. Disbelief?
“Amaury, bite my wrist,” she commanded, stretching her wrist toward Amaury.
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
She gave him a sharp look. “Somebody else then? You!” she shouted at one of the men who’d helped take Samson off the gate. “You’re a vampire—bite me, damn it, so I can feed Samson.”
The vampire hesitated and looked between her, Samson and Amaury.
Suddenly Delilah felt a hand on her other arm and turned. Samson’s hand had gripped her.
“… don’t want … hurt you,” he pressed out, his voice barely audible.
Now he had decided he didn’t want to hurt her? What about when he’d lied to her? The man’s timing sucked. Major. She’d have to have a word with him about that, but later.
“You will only hurt me if you leave me. Don’t leave me, please.”
She placed her wrist at his mouth again, but he made no move. That’s when she lost it. Anger rolled over her. “Bite me, damn it, or I’ll kick you in the balls so hard you’ll scream into the next century! Do you understand?”
A second later she felt the sharp pain of her skin breaking and liquid dripping. A fraction of a second later the pain was gone, and Samson’s fangs were firmly lodged in her wrist. She felt him suck, his eyes closed.
With her free hand she smoothed his hair back from his bloodstained face. “Take what you need, my love.”
Delilah felt more than heard his sigh. She dropped her head to his, and placed a kiss on his forehead. “I’m here, Samson, I’m here.”
Amaury helped her lift Samson’s head into her lap so it was easier for her to feed him.
“Thank you.”
Amaury shook his head. “Samson is a very lucky man to have you.”
The commotion behind her made her turn her head.
Two vampires brought the struggling biker with them. The helmet was gone now, and revealed was a head of long auburn hair. She’d seen the woman before, at the theater.
Ilona Hampstead, Samson’s ex-girlfriend.
Ilona tried to escape the hold of the two vampires, but despite her struggles, she couldn’t. They were stronger than she was. Her expression was furious.
The woman stared right at Delilah, watching how she let Samson drink her blood.
“What, you think he’s going to be yours just because you let him have your blood? Dream on, sister!” Her voice was laced with venom.
Delilah returned her vile look with a killer stare of her own. “Bitch! I’ll deal with you later!”
She wanted to wring the woman’s neck for hurting Samson, for nearly killing him. Delilah looked down at him as he suckled from her wrist and saw how Samson’s eyes flew open in shock.
“Everything will be fine, my love; they’ve got her. She can’t hurt you anymore,” she whispered to him. His eyes fell shut again, and then he let go of her wrist. She looked at Amaury, alarmed.
“It’s fine. He’ll take however much his body can process at a time. He’ll need more, later. We’ll have a donor by then,” Amaury assured her.
She shook her head. “No. I won’t allow it.”
“How cute,” Ilona spat out.
Delilah ignored her. “He’ll only drink from me, nobody else.”
“But it’s too dangerous. He needs too much blood,” Amaury warned her.
She lifted her hand in protest. “Only from me.”
Then she gave Ilona another look and took off her jacket. She rolled it up and rested Samson’s head on it, before she got to her feet, still wobbly. Her ribs hurt, and she put her hand to her side to support her movements.
Amaury offered his arm to steady her, and Delilah gladly took it.
“What are we going to do with her?” Delilah asked him.
“We?” Amaury gave her a stunned look.
“Yes, ‘we.’ And don’t even think about excluding me. I have every right—”
“You’re not going to have a little mortal tell you want to do, are you?” Ilona taunted Amaury as she struggled in the grip of the two vampires holding her. “Wimp!”
Amaury gave her a nonchalant smile. “You should know that I’m not susceptible to your insults, Ilona.”
“You’re gonna screw her too once Samson discards her? Or maybe even before?”
“Amaury, bite my wrist,” she commanded, stretching her wrist toward Amaury.
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
She gave him a sharp look. “Somebody else then? You!” she shouted at one of the men who’d helped take Samson off the gate. “You’re a vampire—bite me, damn it, so I can feed Samson.”
The vampire hesitated and looked between her, Samson and Amaury.
Suddenly Delilah felt a hand on her other arm and turned. Samson’s hand had gripped her.
“… don’t want … hurt you,” he pressed out, his voice barely audible.
Now he had decided he didn’t want to hurt her? What about when he’d lied to her? The man’s timing sucked. Major. She’d have to have a word with him about that, but later.
“You will only hurt me if you leave me. Don’t leave me, please.”
She placed her wrist at his mouth again, but he made no move. That’s when she lost it. Anger rolled over her. “Bite me, damn it, or I’ll kick you in the balls so hard you’ll scream into the next century! Do you understand?”
A second later she felt the sharp pain of her skin breaking and liquid dripping. A fraction of a second later the pain was gone, and Samson’s fangs were firmly lodged in her wrist. She felt him suck, his eyes closed.
With her free hand she smoothed his hair back from his bloodstained face. “Take what you need, my love.”
Delilah felt more than heard his sigh. She dropped her head to his, and placed a kiss on his forehead. “I’m here, Samson, I’m here.”
Amaury helped her lift Samson’s head into her lap so it was easier for her to feed him.
“Thank you.”
Amaury shook his head. “Samson is a very lucky man to have you.”
The commotion behind her made her turn her head.
Two vampires brought the struggling biker with them. The helmet was gone now, and revealed was a head of long auburn hair. She’d seen the woman before, at the theater.
Ilona Hampstead, Samson’s ex-girlfriend.
Ilona tried to escape the hold of the two vampires, but despite her struggles, she couldn’t. They were stronger than she was. Her expression was furious.
The woman stared right at Delilah, watching how she let Samson drink her blood.
“What, you think he’s going to be yours just because you let him have your blood? Dream on, sister!” Her voice was laced with venom.
Delilah returned her vile look with a killer stare of her own. “Bitch! I’ll deal with you later!”
She wanted to wring the woman’s neck for hurting Samson, for nearly killing him. Delilah looked down at him as he suckled from her wrist and saw how Samson’s eyes flew open in shock.
“Everything will be fine, my love; they’ve got her. She can’t hurt you anymore,” she whispered to him. His eyes fell shut again, and then he let go of her wrist. She looked at Amaury, alarmed.
“It’s fine. He’ll take however much his body can process at a time. He’ll need more, later. We’ll have a donor by then,” Amaury assured her.
She shook her head. “No. I won’t allow it.”
“How cute,” Ilona spat out.
Delilah ignored her. “He’ll only drink from me, nobody else.”
“But it’s too dangerous. He needs too much blood,” Amaury warned her.
She lifted her hand in protest. “Only from me.”
Then she gave Ilona another look and took off her jacket. She rolled it up and rested Samson’s head on it, before she got to her feet, still wobbly. Her ribs hurt, and she put her hand to her side to support her movements.
Amaury offered his arm to steady her, and Delilah gladly took it.
“What are we going to do with her?” Delilah asked him.
“We?” Amaury gave her a stunned look.
“Yes, ‘we.’ And don’t even think about excluding me. I have every right—”
“You’re not going to have a little mortal tell you want to do, are you?” Ilona taunted Amaury as she struggled in the grip of the two vampires holding her. “Wimp!”
Amaury gave her a nonchalant smile. “You should know that I’m not susceptible to your insults, Ilona.”
“You’re gonna screw her too once Samson discards her? Or maybe even before?”
