Hold Their Peace (Vampire Assassin League) Page 3

  “Oh sweet! We...mustn’t...go too fast.”

  He was panting between words, alternately licking at her lips, and then toying with another kiss.

  “Oh yes, we must,” she answered.

  And then she moved her hands to his waist and pushed away from him!

  Thanos shook in place, his arms dropping to his side as he fought some inner demon. His eyes narrowed. His hands balled into fists. He locked his entire body against an infusion of such heat he was at a loss on how to contain it. It was as if fire ate away at his muscles, straining against his hold, while everything got washed with a red hue that got darker with every heartbeat his dead heart gave.

  His heart was beating. And he actually felt it!

  Oh...paradise! Everything he’d been told was true. He had his mate, and he had his life force back. With an intensity that was nearly impossible to absorb. It was better than wondrous, more satisfying than an untainted, week-long blood feast. And almost worth the wait. It was almost uncontrollable. He’d been wrong, too. She was a better than an Amazon in the flesh. She was pure goddess.

  No.

  Wait.

  She was undressing?

  Oh, Zeus! His knees wobbled before he locked them, forcing his legs to support him. His eyes slowly opened, and then went wide as she pulled the buttons of her shirt apart, yanked her arms out of the sleeves, and tossed the garment aside. She wore a breast band, but like none he’d ever seen. Women warriors of his age had worn such items, but always tight across their chests, constricting bounce and movement, pressing their bosom flat so it wouldn’t be an encumbrance in battle. The garment his mate wore did the opposite, lifting and holding her breasts up, so it was impossible to look away for a moment. It flashed through his mind that those Macedonian women may have had it wrong all those years ago. Any man catching sight of what he was looking at right now would be a dead one.

  Her breast band was vibrantly-colored, with bright pink polka-dots atop a vivid green backdrop. Odd. Why waste such fabric and color on a garment that wasn’t seen? And he’d been wrong. Her frame was a bit too slender for goddess ranking. It was much closer to his first impression. Amazonian. She was definitely fit...and she was also most definitely curved. And luscious. Her skin appeared soft. Unblemished. Untouched by much sun. Ripe. Tinted a rosy shade by her life fluid pumping just beneath the surface. Her blood. His ambrosia. Thanos sucked on his upper teeth, striving to control the fang growth.

  Not yet.

  It was next to impossible! The shadow of her cleavage drew his gaze as she moved, working the buttons of her trousers loose. Thanos stood straighter, absorbing more strangeness and even more sensation. His hands relaxed. The heat cooled. He no longer saw anything through a red haze. But his canines were still pinging with anticipation.

  “I mean...I’ve never done...uh...this before.”

  The fire sensation slammed back, bringing worse tremors than before, along with a worse sharpening of his fangs. And worse. Her words came out disconnected between pants for air. She was suffering breathlessness. He matched it. And what she said just couldn’t be true.

  “You’re...a maid?”

  She chuckled. “Uh...no comment. I mean, I’ve never attacked a man I’d just met. Never. Nobody would believe this. I don’t even believe it. It’s...uh...”

  Her voice drifted off. His was missing. It had to do with the way she shoved her trouser waistband open and pushed the loose-fit pants to her ankles, revealing a slip of cloth in the same vibrant color scheme as her breast band, but striped rather than dotted. That little triangle didn’t cover much, and had little inch-wide straps holding it together across her hips. And he’d been off on his evaluation. Those legs definitely belonged on a goddess.

  He grunted something she took for an answer. She panted her way through a lengthy explanation he tried to follow. Just because her mouth was moving. He could almost sense each breath she gave as it brushed his exposed skin. Feel the thump of her pulse through her veins. Taste her fluid...

  And there wasn’t any holding back the fangs.

  “I think it’s a combination of things. You know. For every action, there’s a reaction. Like...my ‘fight or flight’ response finally kicked into gear or something. I’ve got the shakes from escaping certain death, and that’s combining with shock and awe from witnessing a very violent and bloody fight. Dang! I can see why the Romans had such a fixation on their gladiators. It’s an incredible high. And you were really something to watch. Really. Oh. Shit. Look at me. No wait. Don’t. I already have the shakes. What am I saying?”

  She might be asking things. He might actually be hearing them. He didn’t answer. And he didn’t obey. His eyes were glued on her. His mouth was dry. She was wearing so little! She had a body worthy of a master sculptor. And each thread seemed designed to show it off.

  “I’m suffering an out-of-body experience here. That must be it. And it’s canceling out any kind of barrier – including guilt. I mean...damn! I’m a ball of estrogen, spinning almost out of control, and at the center of all that is you. The man with one name. Thanos.”

  “Me?”

  He had a voice. It sounded like the rumble of a small earthquake just before it hit. It didn’t sound remotely like him. And he’d lost control over his canines. They were elongated and sharp. He had to lift his upper lip to give them room.

  “Yeah. You. Um...yeah. You just happen to be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, Thanos from Macedon. You might be the sexiest thing like...ever. Trust me. Every nerve in my body is pumping adrenaline through me. And it just keeps getting higher and higher. I’m totally afraid if I slow anything down, reality is going to intrude, and it’s going to be a bitch. So, you might want to get in gear, and ditch the sword and skirt thing, or we’re going to have an issue here. Got it?”

  He had the buckle on his sword band opened before she finished talking, and told himself he didn’t care where it dropped or how much damage it might suffer. He’d worry over his blade later. Her hands were behind her back fussing with her breast band thing, while Thanos yanked on the clasp at the back of his attire. He flipped the clasp open and his clothing fell off.

  “Holy shit! I mean wow. On a major scale. Look at you. I’m so glad I have an imagination to die for.”

  Her eyes were wide and she put a hand over her mouth. Thanos looked down and then back to her. And then he grinned as a jolt of pure energy slammed through him. And that was stupid. It wasn’t possible to hide his canines. He was just grateful she was looking elsewhere. But then she licked her lips, sending flames rocketing through him, and it didn’t matter what she saw. Thanos threw his head back and howled the reaction into the air.

  The sound hadn’t finished throbbing through the entire cave when she slammed into him, wrapping not only her arms about his shoulders, but her legs went around his hips, locking her loins right to his. And if that wasn’t enough provocation, she was grinding against him, swamping him with cotton, and making everything go to a complete and total shudder. There wasn’t a chance he’d stay connected to the ground. He couldn’t. His entire body was adrift in an agony of frustration and craving, rinsed through with pure carnal need. They hovered several feet above the chamber as he grabbed the back of her clothing and yanked it apart.

  “Wow. Oh...Thanos. Wow.”

  Her murmured words were the spark to his ignition. Thanos lowered his head almost violently, maneuvering hers sideways to display her neck. To him. A bluish tinted line scored her skin, tapping with her pulse as it sent blood racing her veins. His arms locked. His legs were next. He had to have her. Now. His entire body was afire for her, but before he could act, she slammed against him, ramming his cock into her chasm. Hard. Deep.

  By the gods! She was incredibly tight. Unbelievably hot. Moist. Wrapping him in sensations that he hadn’t known existed. They couldn’t. There was no measure for such bliss. No description for it. Thanos shook with an experience few gained, or if they did, they lacked any talent at narrating.
He’d never felt such a frenzy of passion, and with the next move he stabbed her neck, finding even more.

  Lightning raced through him, shooting arcs of electricity everywhere. If he looked, he’d probably see them illuminating his cave. And still she hammered her body onto his, alternately sucking him into a vortex of sensation too vast to describe, and then shimmying back off. Again. And again. Gaining speed and intensity to her motions that threatened an eruption. And it was too soon. Not this way. Not with his goddess-mate.

  Oh no. No.

  Thanos locked his hands about her ass cheeks, clamping her into place in order to arch backward, uncaring where he landed, or how; even if it was in the space between an ottoman and sofa, slamming his back onto the uncarpeted floor. And he laughed soundlessly when it happened, because it hurt.

  It actually hurt.

  It also unlatched him from her neck, sending arterial spray in a light-imbued arc about them. Thanos licked at the dual puncture marks, while she writhed and gyrated atop him, her moans intensifying, getting louder and louder, heavier and deeper. He was watching, stunned; as she locked her limbs about him, clamping her hips to his, while her entire body pulsated and shuddered in place. And it was all accompanied by the longest, shiver-inducing shriek.

  Thanos couldn’t prevent another series of soundless laughter. It was too amazing. And she was too beautiful. And what was happening was too incredible. Well beyond anything he’d been promised. And dreamt. And sought.

  And she just wouldn’t cease using her hips against him, her hands skimming along his belly and to his shoulders over and over in a movement designed to drive him into madness and beyond. That was before he factored in the continual pumping of her body onto his. Alternately gripping and squeezing. And it didn’t seem possible that she hadn’t any Amazonian side, since she was more than leading this. She was orchestrating a response beyond his scope of experience. Beyond even his fantasies.

  Her body shimmied again. Shuddered. It was accompanied by another long cry that ended with gasps, and then she lowered her face to him, brushing his cheeks with her breath, before attacking his lips in a kiss that grabbed and stalled his newly awakened heart. The thump as it started up again was thick and almost painful. And alive.

  His canines pierced her inner mouth, gaining harsh moans from her that harmonized with his...and then she nipped back. The slightest prick of pain accompanied her act. And then rapture. Elation. Amazement. The sensation grew as she licked, and then sucked, driving him into whorl of agitation that wrenched any semblance of control out of his grasp. He grabbed her waist and arched up from the floor, shoving his shoulders back into the sofa edge and seizing the ottoman with his legs, gaining stability. Balance. Buttressing. That way he could buck up and into her, each time going deeper with each thrust. Harder. Again. And again. And over and over, lifting and jolting her with a pace that matched the furious sensation thudding through his back before it moved, hitting his groin, and then shattering everything.

  Even time.

  Thanos threw his head back, his mouth wide to let the longest cry out as everything exploded. Millennia of time disappeared. Legions of endless existence evaporated. Prior experience got obliterated and then overwritten. He’d never felt like this. Never experienced this. Never would he have dared imagine it. The cry turned to bliss-filled sobs as he emptied into her, moving them both with his lurching, spasmodic shudders.

  Thanos of Macedonia. Warrior. Sobbing helplessly.

  And he didn’t even care.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Thanos.”

  The sound of his name went through his mind. He knew that voice. And that tone, although he rarely heard it. Thanos immediately opened his eyes. He was in his domicile. Atop his marble slab. All was the same.

  Or was it?

  This particular marble slab had been taken from the library at Persepolis while the rest of Alexander’s army destroyed the Persian palace. This piece of marble had two slight flaws. One was near the top, below where his shoulders usually rested. That nick was where the spear that had taken his mortality had glanced, mutely testifying not only to the power of the blow, but the closeness of his killer. And it hadn’t told why. No Persian soldier had been behind the blow. It was a fellow Macedon warrior; one with a jealous streak, murderous intent, and no eye to consequences. The man hadn’t even stuck around to make certain of his kill. That had been the fellow’s death warrant.

  He hadn’t died pretty, but he had died. Thanos made certain of it, watching his trussed-up killer burn alive in the flames. Yelling. And then screaming. And finally cursing Thanos, his executioner. But he was too late for that. Thanos was already cursed.

  The other flaw in the marble slab was a nick along one edge where Thanos’ chisel had slipped while carving it out. It wasn’t noticeable because he’d hidden it beneath a bed frame of iron, intricately wrought to look like tree limbs, almost like the marble was suspended in midair. That had taken decades to design and craft, once he realized he’d have a lot of time on his hands in this afterlife, and absolutely nothing better to do.

  “Thanos.”

  Akron was louder this time, the name more defined. It sounded as if Akron knelt beside this cool marble slab in physical reality.

  Wait a moment...

  The marble was cool against him.

  Thanos grunted and rolled off the side, landing on his knees. It took a few moments to blink his resting place into complete focus. Another to adjust to the jolt that he’d actually felt. He was grinning as he rubbed at both knees.

  It was all true! And had happened to him! He had emotion and sensation back! And why? Because he had a mate, and he’d actually found her. And she was still here! Right there! He studied her from a like height, since he still knelt at his bedside. Her cheek was resting on a palm. Her eye lashes fluttered while she slumbered away, lost in dreamland. She’d actually slept in his arms, swathed in a double layer of cloth against the hard, unbending surface of his marble.

  And that after another round of lovemaking that had collapsed one of his tables in the outer chamber.

  “Thanos!”

  Ouch. Thanos slapped both hands to his ears. Akron wasn’t shouting, but it was loud enough to cause ringing in both ears. Thanos was on his feet and out in his corridor before he got called again.

  He padded on bare soles that felt every nuance of his cool tile floor, reaching his Recon room. The door knob was slick and cold to the touch. And he felt it. If he’d ever giggled, he supposed that what was happening as he slid into a leather chair and tapped a forefinger to one of his monitors. A dim beep accompanied the instant image of a large room, an ornate table beneath a curved staircase that shadowed the area, and the back of an open laptop. Nothing else. It was all anyone saw of Akron.

  “About time.” Akron’s voice came through the speakers in a rush, showing his agitation.

  “Yeah. About time.” Nigel’s voice was right behind Akron’s, but not near the volume or depth.

  Akron’s sigh was loud and lengthy, causing such a throb of sound it was almost a visceral being of its own. Long moments followed the end of it when nobody said anything.

  “Well? What is it?” Thanos asked finally.

  “Good thing you live in the middle of nowhere, Thanos, and have little to do with the modern world and real-time technology. I’ve been trying to reach you via all the usual methods of communication. The least you could do is pick up.”

  “Yeah. Pick up,” Nigel parroted Akron.

  “Why?” Thanos asked.

  “It’s about your assignment. Professor Erickson.”

  “Yeah. Professor Erickson,” Nigel added.

  “Nigel,” Akron asked.

  “Sir?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Emulating you, Sir.”

  Akron laughed. The sound reverberated through the room, rattling every monitor on the counter. Thanos tipped them down one by one before they fell over.

  “You are copying
me, Nigel, not emulating. And what on earth brought about this phase?”

  “It’s not a phase. It’s a change. I’m tired of everyone treating me like I just parachuted in here. They respect you. Everyone thinks I’m a joke.”

  Akron laughed again. Even louder.

  “You see what I have to put up with?” Nigel complained.

  “Enough. We’ve wasted enough time, and that’s not why I called. How much time is left, Nigel?”

  “Eleven seconds, Sir.”

  “Hmm. We’ll call you right back, Thanos. Move to line eight.”

  The line went dead. Thanos spent the intervening moments skimming his palms along his thighs, raising hairs he could feel against his fingers. It was incredible. Wondrous. And then the monitor went live again, and Akron was talking. Or maybe it was more akin to lecturing.

  “...not given. Respect is earned.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “By upholding standards day in and day out. Without fail. Speaking of — there’s Thanos back on the line. Good. Technology keeps changing and it’s a doubled-edged kind of thing. Complete benefit on one hand, a decided curse on the other. You need to go underground, Thanos.”

  “I am underground.”

  “I meant figuratively. Go off grid and stay there until we contact you again.”

  “What? Why?”

  “It’s about your little excursion last night.”

  “Yeah. Last night,” Nigel parroted.

  “Last night?” Thanos asked.

  Akron’s sigh this time was short. It had a growl beneath it, too. Thanos straightened in the chair.

  “You were assigned a hit. Professor Erickson. It was easy. Quick. Clean. You could’ve handled it blindfolded.”

  “Oh. That.”

  “Yes. That. One body has somehow become six of them, mostly decapitated. And guess what? Those deceased men worked for the fellow who contracted us. I’ve already made arrangements to counteract that, since the only quiet man is a dead one.”

  “Oh.”

  “That’s not the worst of it. There was a frantic call made. I believe they’ve got a written transcript already on the internet. A Lizbeth...ah yes. There it is. Smith. Lizbeth Smith reported something about a black-market antiquity deal gone wrong. According to her statement, Professor Erickson was killed trying to halt it. Hmm. Shows even an archeology artifact student can concoct a decent cover story, doesn’t it? Time, Nigel?”