Page 104 of Kick the Candle (Knight Games 2)
Rick reached back and shut the water off, then kissed me at the base of my neck.
"Do you need to feed?" I asked him.
"Not yet. You're not strong enough."
"I am. I feel good." It wasn't a lie. The sex and the blood had chased away the remaining ache. I grabbed the nape of his neck and pulled, while tipping my head to give him access.
He pressed his lips to my throat but didn't bite.
"Please, Rick. I don't want the last set of teeth in my neck to be Julius's."
For a moment, he hesitated. Then, with a possessive growl, he struck. My flesh moved aside, accommodating his teeth. I stroked the back of his head as he drank from me.
rst Engagement
Rick returned with a tall glass of ice water, slices of lime nestled among the ice cubes. Gently, he tipped me up to drink, then placed the glass on the nightstand.
"Refreshing. Thank you."
"You are welcome."
"Why are you Spanish?"
"Excuse me?"
"Puritans were English Protestants. I've never heard of a Spanish Puritan."
"It is true that we were a rarity of our time. My ancestors came over with the conquistadors and migrated north where they joined the Puritan settlers. In truth, my grandfather may have been a criminal, although it wasn't spoken of in my family. I believe he was escaping punishment. The Puritans welcomed my family's practical skills and strength. Survival was priority one for Monk's congregation, although I can't remember any of the English being overly welcoming. Perhaps that is why I spent my time in the woods with you."
I motioned for him to lie down next to me. He hesitated, staring at the empty sliver of bed. Through our connection, his emotions seemed muddled and dark. Being in someone's head isn't like talking to them. Sure, there were times Rick wanted me to know something, and the thoughts came across in complete sentences. But people didn't think that way naturally and today Rick's head was filled with a mixture of what I would describe as jealousy, possessiveness, hurt, anger, and resentment. I supposed he was still thinking about Logan but suppressing his emotions for my benefit. Grunting, I scooted over to give him more room. That was enough for him to stretch out and get comfortable next to me. Even without touching, the smell of him filled my nostrils, earth, pine, saltwater and honeysuckle. I breathed him in.
"Did you agree to marry me?" I asked, wanting to get him talking again. Truly, I would have liked the chance to explain about Logan, but Rick wasn't ready to hear it. Not yet.
He laced his fingers over his stomach. "Of course I did. I could no sooner part from you than my own arm. We were to be joined in the official way of the Wampanoag. I was prepared to disappear from my family forever, to live out my life with you and yours."
"But?"
"But, on the morning of our impending marriage, you met me at our pool, hysterical. You told me everyone in your tribe was dead."
"Dead?"
"Drained of their blood. Everyone we knew and loved, dead." His voice cracked.
"Vampires?"
"We didn't know what they were at the time. Vampires are predators and they followed their prey. Just like everyone else that migrated to Red Grove, they came here to feed because so many other places were ravaged by starvation."
"Why didn't the vampires kill me?"
"I can only speculate, but I believe you were protected by your mother."
"My mother...the goddess of the dead, Hecate."
"Yes. I can't be sure, and you never told me, but afterward you...changed, became more powerful. You successfully enchanted Monk's congregation into accepting your presence, no questions asked."
Instinctively, I reached over and placed a hand on his chest as I tilted on my side to see his face. His body stiffened. I removed my fingers and placed them beside me. I cleared my throat. "Nobody asked where I came from?"
"People asked. You told them you'd washed ashore after a shipwreck, having traveled with a band of pilgrims who were killed during your journey. Everyone believed you."
