Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 11-15 - Laurell K. Hamilton [463]
His mouth stopped just out of reach. I tried to raise my hands and touch him, but his hands forced my wrists down tighter on the side of the bed. He laid his mouth against mine, and I didn’t kiss him, I licked the blood from the edge of his lip.
He drew back, laughing. “You’d rather eat me right now, than kiss me.” But he leaned in toward me, his mouth half-parted, and I could smell the blood inside his mouth. I’d bitten him. I remembered the feel of his lip between my teeth. I made a sound low in my throat, and he laughed again, a purely masculine sound with his lips so close to mine that my tongue could touch them. His voice held that masculine laughter, and an edge of growl, “God, she’s eager.”
Nathaniel growled again, with his teeth still tight on the back of my neck. The growl was low and deep and vibrated down my spine like my body was a tuning fork. It made me push my body against his. My mouth reached for Jason, but my body was offering itself to the hard weight against the back of my body.
“Alright, but if she bites my tongue off, I’m going to be pissed.” And he pressed his lips against mine, but I didn’t try to bite him, because his mouth was full of blood and tasted of meat. I’d already started this meal, all I wanted to do was finish it.
My beast was right there, under my skin, only Nathaniel’s hold kept it peaceful. The taste of fresh blood, of meat, and the feel of Jason’s mouth on mine, brought the beast like heat against my skin. I could feel my body cooking with the heat of it, as if my skin was a container for something so much hotter than human flesh. Something that was almost there, almost ready, almost . . .
Nathaniel raised his mouth, and only his weight and Jason’s hands held me down. He whispered something against the wound in my neck, I think he said, “Now.” But I would never be sure, because in that moment my beast rose.
It rose up the line of my spine like heat. It spilled out my mouth and into Jason’s, in a scalding, burning wave of power. It tore his mouth off of mine, forced his head back in a scream, and Nathaniel’s body bowed on top of mine, and he screamed, too. My beast was like a sword thrust through both of them. I poured my energy into their bodies, until their bodies burst with it.
I saw Jason’s skin split, and I felt Nathaniel tremble above me. One moment they were there, and the next I was drenched in liquid, warm, so warm, like being dipped in fresh blood, but it wasn’t blood. It was clear and viscous—that fluid that the shapeshifters leave behind when they pull their bodies from one shape to another.
I was covered in it, dripping with it, and because Jason’s claws were still pinning my wrists, I couldn’t wipe it away from my face. I blinked at the wolfman kneeling in front of me. His fur was dry, like it always is, like magic. I stared into wolf eyes the color of early spring grass. His fur was thick and shades of pale gray. He opened a jaw that was longer than a human’s, and full of teeth that any wolf would envy. He ran an impossibly long tongue over those teeth and stared at me with eyes that held things that I’d only begun to guess at.
A claw curled into the wet sheets on one side, and that claw was a black-furred hand. I turned back and did that slow, horror-movie take, where you know what’s behind you, but you just can’t keep from looking. You have to look, even with the feel and press of fur against your naked body. I knew what I’d see, and still I turned and looked.
Nathaniel’s face was a strangely graceful mix of human and leopard. The face shape was closer to human than the werewolf’s, but when I met those gray-blue eyes, there was no one home to talk to.
I’d gotten rid of my beast by bringing theirs, and now I was suddenly covered in warm liquid that mimicked blood, with two freshly turned lycanthropes holding me down. Nathaniel put his furred hands against the bed on either side of me, and he flexed those