CHAPTER ONE

 New Manhattan 2023.

     Someone wanted the undead, dead.

     From the back seat of her official limousine, Commander Azalea Kanbi of the World Health Protectorate studied Hemo Global Pharmaceuticals’ Head Office as it speared into the sky.  One hundred and eighty floors of re-enforced mirrored plexi glass and a building designed to keep out UV/UB rays along with the eyes and ears of the curious.

     Her driver brought the car to a halt.  Lea slid dark glasses over her nose and swung lethally high heels onto the pavement.  House calls were not in her remit these days.  However, this was an emergency.  They couldn’t wait for diplomats to dance around each other for a week.

     Lea’s ground eating stride ate up the one hundred yards to the entrance.  Her aide, medical sergeant Petal Jones scrambled behind her carrying disc evidence, and legal documents.  Lea blinked as she caught her aide’s reflection in the mirrored glass of the building.  She stopped.

     “Jones, what have you done to your hair?”  Voice cool, Lea whipped off her glasses and peered at red crazy curls.  Her aide’s skinny body was dressed in medical khakis, the crease in her combats razor sharp and her boots gleamed.  But her regulation cap battled to stay on her head.  Jones gave her a sulky look and would have blushed if she could.  Vampires, Lea knew, did not blush.  She narrowed her eyes.  “And do I see fangs?  Haven’t you fed today?”

     Jones’s wide eyes changed from blue to black, and she retracted her fangs.

     “I had half a litre of globuflakes, and coagulated blood on toast.”  She slid a hand to her hair.  “The new stylist came highly recommended.”  Jones gave her a hurt look.  “Don’t you like it?”

     “May I remind you?”  Lea shook her head and continued walking.  “We’re here to investigate anomalies in synthetic blood products, which have killed eight pure-blood vampires.”  The tone might have terrified her five years ago when Jones was first attached to her staff.   However, fear had turned into respect and hero worship, so Lea cut her a bit of slack.   “You don’t look like yourself ... I miss the sleek, not-a-hair-out-of-place look.”

     Plus, she knew exactly why her aide was all of a flutter.

     “I read in Male Totty he likes redheads with curly hair,” Jones said.  Her blue eyes glowed with excitement and lust, which accounted for the fangs, Lea realised.  “Not many of us have seen him in the flesh.  A drop-dead-gorgeous vampire who is a hero.  My friend Amy has an entire wall full of his posters.”

     Lea fought not to roll her eyes.

     “Oh boy,” Jones whispered as they stepped through the entrance doors, jigging on the spot.  “I can’t believe we’re going to meet the Constantine Mabille.”

     “Sergeant!” Lea snapped, as a ridiculously handsome vampire in vintage Armani spotted them.  He moved with the loose-limbed rhythm typical of his kind.  “Are you recording and scanning?”

     “Sorry, sir.”  Jones blinked to adjust optical implants.  “Systems working.”

     Her aide snapped to attention and Lea breathed a sigh of relief.  The systems were new, designed by the techies of the World Health Protectorate (WHP), supposedly undetectable by vampire security.

     The vampire probed her mind, an illegal act.  Lea deflected his exploration, almost exposing herself in the process.

     He flinched, and bowed as he stood before them.

     “Apologies, Commander.”  He raised his head.  Blue eyes held curiosity and a wariness that caused her stomach to clutch in alarm.  His voice held a whisper of Scotland, the tone contrite.

     “Old habits die hard.  I’m Duncan Cameron, Constantine’s assistant, come with me please.”

     They followed him into a lift.

     Duncan requested the top floor and Lea’s eyes impaled his.

     “Old habits Duncan, that might kill you one day,” she said softly.

     Furious, Jones hissed, her eyes blood red.

     “I shall report your assault, you eater of sheep dung.”

     The vampire bared his fangs, with blood in his eyes, he pinned Jones against the wall of the lift.  And sniffed her neck as she trembled with fury under him.

     Used to the edgy behaviour of vampires, Lea ignored them.

     He sniffed again.  “You smell of ... a spring meadow.”  His eyes changed to black and he cocked his head, studying her face.  “You’re a half-blood, a mere child.”

     “Old enough to turn your rusty bones into dust and use the remains as fertilizer.”

     With a laugh, Duncan flicked a finger over her name tag.

     “P. Jones.  What does the P stand for?”

     “Pistol.”

     He grinned as the doors slid open.  “It suits you.”  Relaxed, he exited before them, a move deliberately designed to insult and offend.

     Jones waited for Lea to exit before her.  The pulse in her neck and the clench of her jaw told her Jones was holding onto control with her fingernails.

     Male vampires, Lea fumed, were always seductive, deadly attractive, and believed they could treat women like second class citizens.

     His behaviour told her two things.  First, he held a certain authority.  Second, he was over two hundred years old.  Only an elder would dare behave in such a manner.  If this was how one of Constantine’s minions behaved, what on earth was the man himself like?

     The office reflected the position of the tall, dark vampire who stood behind the hand-crafted desk perfectly.  Powerful leather chairs and sofas hugged a glittering glass coffee table loaded with ancient artefacts.  Floor to ceiling windows gave him a panoramic view of the world below.

     She remembered the President of the United States announcing to a frantic world with millions dead, that a vaccine for the avian/swine flu mutation had been found.  This man and his company were responsible for the breakthrough.

     She remembered the outpouring of gratitude.  How he’d announced he was a Precedential Elder of an ancient vampire clan.  Shock had reverberated around the planet, but he was a hero, and now most of humanity accepted his kind.

     Research told her he was four hundred years old, his transformation had happened in his early thirties.  Like everyone else she’d seen him on flat screens and magazines.  Unlike everyone else Lea wasn’t interested in the acres of gossip columns printed about him, she left that for the Joneses of this world.

       In the flesh he looked formidable.  His face carved by fate on a good day.  The eyes did it she realised with mild shock, vividly blue, they lasered into hers.  And he was broad shouldered, tall and lean, with not an ounce of fat on him.  Probably all the liquid protein in his diet, she mused and narrowed her eyes as his lips twitched.  She couldn’t feel a mind probe, but he was skilled enough to have perfected the art.

     With care Lea reinforced the block around her thoughts, searching for weaknesses in the barrier.  She continued to study him and listened to her intuition warning her to take great care.

     Constantine Mabille was used to beautiful women.  They rarely surprised him, but this one stunned him.

     Her bone structure was exquisite; tall, slim and gloriously beautiful.  With a narrow waist and endless legs.  His expert eye recognised her military style black suit as vintage Ralph Lauren; its high collar accentuated a slim neck.  Luxuriant black hair was tied back in a long, glossy tail that fell to her waist.

   The impression he received from her aura was wisdom and power.  Fearless too, he realised, but she’d been taken by surprise, and his lips twitched.

     He cocked his head.

     The sensation he experienced in his mind now was similar to a door being slammed.

     Excited now, he moved towards her, taking care not to alarm her.  How was this possible?  She was human.  He was sure of it, but he needed to get closer to make certain.

     “I am Constantine Mabille.”  He held out his hand and she didn’t hesitate to take it.

     “Commander Kanbi, my aide, Medical Sergeant Jones.”  Suppressed energy zipped up his arm but what brought its dark hair to attention was her husky voice; smoky and sinfully sensual.

     He gave a brief nod to the aide, but the Commander retained his attention.  Her skin felt cool, and her pulse steady.  She wore no jewellery, merely a simple timekeeper strapped to her delicate wrist.  Almond shaped tawny eyes glittered into his, with flecks of green and gold surrounding the iris.  The whites of her eyes were dazzlingly pure and framed with thick lashes.  Perfect eyebrows rose a fraction under his scrutiny.

     He dropped his gaze to her wide full mouth.  Unpainted, he saw with approval.  No enhancements for her.  Her ears were unpierced and he wondered why that fact fascinated him.  For decades women had multiple piercings, along with surgical enhancements.  This woman had none of those things, he had no idea how he knew, but he did.

     Constantine inhaled; his enhanced senses picked up a sensuous mix of body cleanser, shampoo and pure female.  His mouth watered and his body ached from a brutal physical arousal.

     Shocked, for a moment, he absorbed his reactions.  He was intrigued, and quietly furious with her for upsetting his hard won peace of mind.  He couldn’t detect anything other than human in her.  Although a sensation; a low hum, rumbled in his psyche.  Interesting.

     He dropped her hand, stepped behind his desk and sat.

    She should have known.  Lea berated herself.

    He was The One and wasn’t that a bummer?  She wasn’t ready for this.  He was a vampire for God’s sake, which made it impossible.  Why did he have to be so hot and handsome? 

    His black hair was too long.  He had a mouth that would make a woman weep and never tire of kissing.  She’d always been a sucker for a dimple, along with the five o’clock shadow on his jaw.  For a vampire, he looked unnaturally healthy.

     Panic curled in her gut.  Emotional needs mastered long ago, and a savage arousal battered against walls fortified with discipline, order and belief.

     ‘Disgraceful, self indulgent behaviour!  Get on with the job, Azalea.’  In her mind, the growling voice of her familiar, Beau, sounded a tad pissed off.

     Her aide’s cough brought Lea back to the present.  Only years of training, intense study for this moment, along with Beau sniggering in her mind, kept her in her seat and her pulse rock steady.  But strain pressed on a nerve behind her right eye as a headache bubbled and brewed, promising agony later.

     Lea inhaled, exhaled, and carefully opened her third eye.

     “I’m here to investigate the manufacturing circumstances of sixteen batches of synthetic haemoglobin; which have a variant pathogen, resulting in death to vampire pure bloods.”

     She noted the involuntary pulse of a muscle in his cheek at her tone, good.

     Jones placed the file containing the official discs and data on the desk.

     Constantine was all business now, she noted as he handed the file to his assistant, and then pressed a button for his holographic data screen to appear between them.  He flipped through various files and found what he was looking for.

     “Part of the batch was manufactured in the City six months ago.”  He turned cool eyes to hers.  “We are aware of the issue, Commander, and it will be resolved.”  His deep voice, irritated now, held a hint of the Scottish highlands.

     Lea crossed her legs as she relaxed back into her chair.

     “The issue is not for you to resolve.  I want names, dates.  Who was working on the formula, where and when?  Who knew the composition, and had the expertise to alter or insert a variant of the molecule to cause it to poison pure bloods only.”

     He didn’t even twitch.  She had to admire that steely determination and control.  The best way of dealing with him, her sense told her, was to be firm and direct.

     “The WHP has assigned me to find the perpetrators and bring them to justice.” She held up a hand as his assistant clenched his fist.  “To ensure your security, manufacturing health and safety procedures are up to the job.”

     Duncan Cameron almost levitated off the floor and hissed as Jones leapt to her feet.

     “You dare to interfere in vampire concerns, human?  Is this how you thank the man who saved millions of lives?”

     Lea kept her eyes on Constantine.  “I’ve had enough of your assistant’s behaviour for one day, do you want to deal with him or shall I?”

    He blinked.  “Duncan, I will speak to the Commander alone.”

    After a silent clash of wills, his assistant left, closely followed by a reluctant Jones.

     He rose and crossed to a cabinet which held a fridge, and turned to her.

     “A drink?”

     “Water’s fine.”

     “I didn’t realise the WHP was a police force.”  He handed her a glass bottle.  Those eyes were cold now, and his voice had nudged into unfriendly, Lea noted with relief.  She determined to keep the tone professional.

     “My duties are many and varied.”  She opened the water, took a sip.  “Thanks, my primary role is to keep the balance.  Anyone or anything that upsets the status quo tends to appear on my radar.”

     She tried not to notice how his bespoke suit hugged his shoulders as he loosened his tie and the top buttons of his white shirt; or how dark and silky his chest hair was as it peeked over his shirt, or how her toes curled in her shoes.

     “So, have I appeared on your radar, Azalea?”

     For the first time Lea smiled, no one called her that except her mother and Beau.

     “Call me, Lea.”  She took another sip, narrowed her eyes as she studied him. “Let’s just say you’re a little blip.”

     His lips twitched, all the while his eyes stayed on hers.

     “You shall have all the information and assistance I can give you.”  He placed his elbows on the desk and leaned over.  “I’m assuming I am a suspect?”

     “Are you guilty?”

     “I’m not, no.”

     “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

     “Tell me, Lea, have you seen a vampire die from ingesting contaminated blood?”

     She stared into eyes now the colour of black velvet and suppressed a shudder at the memory of a patient’s agonising death from within.

     “Yes, I have.  Eight dead.  Each one held a key diplomatic post.”

     “Then you will understand that I want the perpetrators as much, if not more than, you do.”

     The tone of his voice, although soft, chilled her blood.

     “Yes, I do. But we must do it within the law.”

     “I make no promises, Commander.  In my ... er ... lengthy experience, laws are sometimes made to be broken.”

     Lea had the peculiar feeling he was talking about her rather than the issue at hand.  But that was impossible.  He had no idea what she was.  Anxiety made her tone sharp.

    “There are blood feuds erupting among vampire clans.  Violence must not be permitted to slide into the general population.”

     Those blue eyes changed to black, a sure sign of annoyance.

     “I understand the WHP’s concern, I share it.  However, internal issues are resolved by us.  As part of the constitution, agreed by your leaders.”

     Lea lifted her chin.

     “Not when those issues threaten innocent bystanders.   I need your co-operation.”

     Those eyes remained on hers, and he nodded.

     “Lea, you have it.”

     She stood, all business, and closed her third eye.

     “Thank you for your assistance.  My team will arrive in an hour.  I would be obliged if you could find a room for them to set up workspaces.”

     “No problem.”

     Constantine moved with that soft, fluid rhythm.  She tipped her head back to look into his eyes.  He was close enough for her to sense the sheer force of his will, his power.  His scent filled her nostrils; it reminded her of high pine forests, and healthy male.  But underpinning every sensation was a feeling rather than a scent.  A sense of something elusive, erotic and desirable.

     Lea forced herself to move with an unhurried stride, and turned as he touched her elbow.

     “I look forward to a long and mutually beneficial relationship with you, Commander.”  His fingers squeezed, the message wasn’t subtle and it wasn’t wanted.

     Her gaze snapped to his.

     And there he was, the predator.  Lea suppressed a shiver as she read the possessive hunger in his eyes.  Her fingers slid over the back of his hand.

     “Business relationship only, vampire.”

     Lea congratulated herself as she walked out of the building with Jones.  She’d handled him well except for the last few seconds.  But he’d annoyed her, so he deserved it for invading her personal space.

     However, eternal law demanded that she atone to balance out the hex, and soon, or it would return to her three times and more.  Since she didn’t fancy a chronic case of hives; she’d sleep on it and visit him tomorrow, and hope the itch didn’t torture him too much until she fixed it.  Self doubt had never been an issue for her, but perhaps she’d been too hasty to strike out?

     ‘Oh what a tangled web we weave,’ Beau drawled.

     “Shut up,” Lea muttered.

    Constantine sat, relaxed except for a mild itch on his hand.  He scratched it absently and kept an eye on his assistant as he paced before his desk.

     “I’m telling you there’s something off about that woman.”

     “I’m surprised that a vampire of your vast experience hasn’t come across one before.”

     “One what?”  Duncan paused.  His eyes grew huge.  “She’s a witch isn’t she?”

     Constantine nodded.  “Most certainly.”

     A mix of awe and anxiety crossed his face as Duncan sank into a chair.  “What kind?”

     “If I’m not mistaken, I do believe we have an Untouchable on our hands.”  With a thin smile, he saw Duncan’s jaw drop and close his eyes.

     “Christ, we’re dead men.”

     “I hate to be the one to tell you, Duncan, but ... we already are.”

     PIVOTAL MOMENT

    Constantine waved a hand over the door sensor of Lea’s apartment.

     He could smell her.

     With narrowed eyes, he scratched his hand.  Vampires did not get hives.  In theory he knew the rules of this particular game.  If the witch didn’t make it better there would be trouble.  His acute senses picked up a powerful emotional residue.  With sharp eyes he studied her face as the door opened.  And he took a sucker punch to the gut.  Three things hit him. 

     Those grief-drowned golden eyes.

     She was almost naked except for a silk wrap, and wasn’t embarrassed or shy about it.

     And her mind was defenceless.

     Thrown, he simply stared  as a single tear tipped over and ran down a pale cheek.  She took several short breaths, fighting a losing battle for control.

     What had happened since he’d seen her earlier?

     Where was the defiant crusading warrior?

     This woman was shockingly vulnerable.

     Sweat pooled at the base of her spine.  The vampire came in and closed the door.  His probe entered her psyche and Lea braced herself.

     He was tender, the touch insubstantial, not the ruthless penetration she’d imagined.  But what if he entered her secret places?  Oh dear God, how would she cope with such a violation?

     Her breath trembled and she began to shake.

     Constantine withdrew abruptly, his alarm and concern for her rang clearly in her mind as she staggered.  She didn’t feel anything except his hands on her and her heart thundering in her ears as he swept her up in his arms.

     If his physical strength appalled her, the sly slide of fear in her stomach, sickened and shamed her.

     It was all too much.

     For the first time in her life, Commander Azalea Kanbi fainted.

 *

      ‘Lea.  Wake up.’

     “Does the witch make a habit of this?”

     ‘Certainly not!’ Beau snapped.   A growl rumbled in his huge chest.  ‘Don’t you recognise shock, vampire?’  The way he spat the word ‘vampire,’ almost made Lea smile.  She was on a sofa, she realised and Beau sounded seriously annoy...

     Her eyes flew open and Beau peered down at her.  His great shaggy head nudged her hand.

     ‘What did I tell you?  I told you to eat and relax.  But no, you decide to starve, worry yourself to death, all over one verminous vampire.’

     Constantine cleared his throat.  “Verminous, I like it...”

     Her pulse kicked as he leaned over the back of the sofa, caught her eye and sent her a slow smile.  He’d ditched the suit, she noticed, and wore  jeans, a white button down shirt and  black leather jacket.  She ignored the curl of attraction, this was totally insane.

     “You hear Beau?”

     ‘It’s a damned disgrace is what it is.  I feel violated, used and abused.’

     Constantine ignored him.

     “Is he always like this?”

     She placed fingers over her eyes, afraid to move, and searched for a sign of him in her psyche.

     “Lea.”  He moved the reluctant hound aside to sit next to her.  “Look at me.”  The tone gentle, his deep voice was full of sincerity.

     Eyes, an unearthly blue, searched hers.  She recognised concern mixed with a ruthless intelligence.  “I won’t enter your mind without your permission.  Although I am aware of certain emotions.  There is nothing I can do about that.  I believe I can ‘hear’ your familiar because of my psychic sense.”

     She groaned.

     “This is a nightmare.”  She sat, the room spun and she closed her eyes for a moment.

     ‘You’re telling me, it’s making me dizzy.  You need to eat.’

     There were times, she thought, when Beau sounded like a nagging wife.

     ‘Well, thank you very much.’

     “Shut up.”  Constantine and Lea spoke as one.

     “How did you hear that?”  Her eyes flew to his.

     “Through the hound, canine or whatever he is.”

     “You can hear what he hears, including my thoughts?”

     Constantine shrugged.  “It appears so.”

     “Beau needs to leave immediately,” she said.  When he snarled, bearing his  teeth, Constantine ignored him.  “Beau!” Her tone was sharp and he whined.

     ‘If you need me, just whistle.’

     He vanished.

     Constantine rose, he needed to give himself a moment.

      He’d lived for over four hundred years without meeting a familiar, never mind engaging in a lucid conversation with one.  And this was his first bona fide Untouchable.  Out of the blue and how amazing was that?   The whole thing was surreal.  He’d met healers and shamans who’d called themselves witches.  Some with minimal powers or talent, had burned for it.

     Lea was calmer now he realised with relief, and tension he’d been unaware of released from his jaw and neck, even as a different type of adrenalin surged through his system.  He recognised attraction, and lust.

     He liked women, and chose them carefully.  They had to be beautiful and have at least one original thought in their head.  These days it took a special person to arouse his interest.  He cast his mind back, but he couldn’t come up with one who’d made him feel like this.  These feelings were a new experience and he had no idea how to handle them.  So Constantine prowled around the loft, while her careful eyes followed him.

     “Nice place.”

     “Thank you.”

    In his imagination, witches lived cluttered lives with cauldrons, spell books and magical objects.  It was a cliche, but he couldn’t help the niggle of disappointment that she didn’t even have a wand.  He’d always had a secret hankering to try one of those.

     He slid his eyes to her.

     “It’s not very witchlike.”

      She shrugged.  She didn’t want to do small talk, well, that was fine by him.  He wanted her, very badly.  He’d needed to see her, to explore the sensations she caused, then she’d opened the door and changed from the fearless Commander to a quivering wreck.  What had happened to her?

      He eyed her again, her wrap had loosened and a long leg, naked to the hip, made his mouth water.  Best not go there, he decided until he knew the rules of the game. He turned and picked up a gemstone from a bowl full of them.  Tourmaline, he enjoyed the sensation of rubbing his thumb over the smooth surface.

     No, the space was not witchlike, but highly organised he realised, with carefully chosen pieces.  The floor was covered in miles of bleached wood, with unadorned floor to ceiling windows through which a crescent moon shone.  Comfortable sofas, large enough for a vampire to snooze on, hugged a glass coffee table the size of a family car.  It stood, as if floating, on a deep ivory wool rug, slashed with jewel colours that toned with the deluge of fat silk cushions on the sofas. 

     What was it with women and cushions?

     There were the thick ivory candles on the fireplace.  Without which, he supposed no self-respecting witch’s domain would be complete.  More marched down a dining table large enough to feed a family of twenty.  She liked to entertain too, interesting. 

    Did she have a special man in her life?  He’d discovered she wasn’t married, but that meant nothing these days.  Information on the Commander was fascinatingly scarce, even his considerable resources had found little, although they were still hard at it.  She was a mystery and he adored mysteries.

     The kitchen was a surprise too.   No fire, he noticed poking around.  She had the need for speed - it was micro induction technology for this witch.

     Something her familiar said popped into his head - she hadn’t eaten.  He opened the refrigerator and blinked, it held two eggs and something unrecognisable in a carton.  Not a lot of hubble bubble went on in here.

     “Hungry, vampire?”

     His stomach knotted as that husky voice warmed his blood like a siren’s call.  Alarm fired up his spine as a nasty thought occurred to him.

     She wouldn’t dare, would she?

     In a flash, he was pressing her body into the sofa.   She went rigid with shock as he bent his head to that vulnerable neck, and inhaled.

     He permitted her scent to bewitch, captivate and beguile him.  Then slid his fangs, careful not to break the delicate skin, over the jack-rabbiting pulse.

     “Have you glamoured me, witch?”   He made no attempt to hide the raw, dangerous edge in his voice.  Her colour flashed hot, then bled out of her cheeks leaving her unnaturally pale.  Her gaze tangled with his and he recognized hurt battling to cut through panic.  Relieved, he stepped back.  “I see not.”

      She stared at him, her pulse jumping at her throat.

     “Your fangs are showing.”

      He thought she’d cast a spell on him?

     Those brilliant eyes mesmerised her as his fangs retracted and he dragged a hand through his hair.  Lea winced, his hand looked hot and sore.

     Without thinking, she touched him chanting a healing spell.  Examining his hand, she turned it over as itchy heat flowed into her fingers.  Not pleasant, and she admitted with a twinge of guilt, unneccesary.  A beautiful hand, she decided, with firm skin and long fingers.  Not icy cold, but cool and smooth.  It was a sculptural thing and she was fascinated by it. 

     It didn’t occur to her for a moment not to dance her fingers or press her lips across his skin three times in penance.

     Therefore she was unprepared.

     His quick intake of breath alerted her.

     Her eyes snapped to his.  They were black with arousal.

     Lea felt a stumble in her heart and belly.  His hand snaked behind her neck, into her hair and pulled her head back as he crushed her against his chest.  Too close, was her first thought and that face, why did he have to be so gloriously handsome?

     Her breath, too shallow, mingled with his and it’s scent was a surprise too – peppery and sweet.

     She couldn’t take her eyes from his.

     Emotions swirled in her psyche, while sensations only dreamed of raced through her system.

     She needed to make a choice and fast.  Vampires were renound for their lack of control.

     Low in her belly a dangerous, hot rhythm picked up the beat.  It thundered through her blood.  That beat throbbed and pooled in her secret places.

     Constantine inhaled, then groaned as he shuddered.

     Those tawny eyes were dazed, and her lips ... he knew they would taste sensational ... but he sensed her fear of him.  Another breath and it would be all over.

      He rose, jaw clenched and almost roared with frustration.

     “You must tell me to leave, Lea.  Do it!”

     He turned his back.

     What was she waiting for?

     Logic begged her to listen, to think of her clan, her sept.

     While an ancient whisper caressed temptation from a dark place in her mind.  She shivered.  The whisper had always been there lurking, waiting for the opportunity to be acknowledged.

     Butterflies became bats in her stomach.

     She knew he waited for an answer.

     Constantine turned slowly to look down at her.

     She stared at him, half horrified, half intrigued at the look in his eye, and his lips curved.

     “Too late.”

     She yelped as he grabbed her ankles, yanked her onto her back.  Her wrap slid up her thighs, exposing lacy panties.  Not once did he take his eyes from hers and she couldn’t move, couldn’t breath.

     He stripped down to his jeans.

     With heady mix of lust, fear and excitement, she stared at wide shoulders that tapered down to serious abs.  Black silky hair ran in a V shape down below the level of his jeans.  He unbuttoned them and her breath caught in her throat.

     Still holding her gaze, he bent over her and opened the kimono.  He took his time until she was naked.  Her brow knitted, why wasn’t he kissing her?  He appeared content simply to look.  And all the while her nerves quivered and her belly was trembling.

     She pressed a hand to her speeding heart as he straddled her.

    Constantine knew if he kissed her he would lose control. 

     He wasn’t an animal, he was civilised and refused to bow to his base instincts.  Intuition told him to take this nice and easy.  But dear God it was almost impossible.  Her heart raced so fast he was afraid she may pass out.  Every part of her trembled under him.

     His fingers stroked her from neck to abdomen, and back again in a gentle rhythm designed to calm.  His fingers found her navel and she shuddered delicately.  

     A flame burned at her core and it was building.

     He wanted her mindless before he took her.

     He pressed open mouthed kisses across her taut belly as his hands burned her skin, and she moaned.  He ventured lower, not to the source, there was only so much he could take, and she shuddered as her hands stroked his hair.  It was the first time she’d touched him or participated and he raised his head to look at her flushed face, those dazed beautiful eyes.

     But what he wanted, he realised with a sudden flash of insight, was the woman he’d met in his office.  Not this submissive.  Annoyed with himself and her, he drew back, but with tentative fingers Lea touched his face.

    He felt fabulous, that smooth skin, stretched tight across firm cheekbones, and she permitted her fingers to flutter over black slashing eyebrows, explore his lips.

     He sucked her fingers into his mouth, and the blaze deep her within roared.  She pulled his head down, her eyes met his as her lips found his mouth.

     She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this scorching sweetness.  Sensation after sensation thrilled her blood, centering on that one spot.

     Her tongue danced with his.  She took a careful taste as his fangs retracted again.

     Two things surged into her mind.  He wouldn’t harm her and a deep, dark pleasure.  He never stopped caressing her body from shoulder to hip while his mouth ravished hers.

     Molten heat, already pumping in her centre, speared white hot into her psyche and she gasped into his mouth.  She opened her legs, pressing her pelvis in an ancient rhythm to his.  Lea panted into his mouth, as her hands slicked over his chest.  This, she knew now was what the years of training had prepared her for.

     To reign in the sense of a wanton wild freedom.  To cope with the ancient energy in her blood.  It surged through her, dark, dangerous and deadly.  A wild hunger for more, more, more.  The explosion, an incendiary, blasted through fear, discipline and self control.

     Need, a monstrous appetite for it, made her shriek in triumph.

     Her eyes, blood red now, snapped open.

     Constantine was defenceless and she leapt.

     Her fangs sank into his neck.

    Every piece of humanity in his body recoiled.  Self-preservation overwhelmed any idea of being careful with her, since she was sucking the blood from his veins in greedy gulps.

     Endless years of misery, of being damned, were forgotten in an instant.  For the first time Constantine was grateful for being a vampire.  The strength in those limbs appalled him as they closed around his torso like a vice.

     He rolled them both to the floor, gripped her ruthlessly by the hair and pulled hard.

     Her feral shriek sounded like music to his ears as he flipped her over onto her stomach and placed a knee on her back.  She bucked him like a snarling wild mare.  And he smartly spanked her.  Pain was the only thing that would distract distract a newborn.  The shocked release of air from her lungs told him he had her full attention.

     “Stop it!  Azalea Kanbi, are you in there?”

     “Get off me.”

     “If you attack, I will take you down.”

     “Get off!”  Chest heaving, her voice was desperate.  Constantine braced himself.  He kept a wary eye on her, rose and stepped back.  What the hell had happened?

     The heat from her had scorched over him like a flame thrower.   It took hours, days even for a newborn vampire to emerge.  This had taken seconds and he sure as hell hadn’t bitten her.  But she’d fed from him and that was an unmitigated disaster.

     He folded his shirt and pressed it to the wound on his throat, it stung like a bitch and he was absolutely furious.

    Lea sat up, totally disoriented as if she was coming awake after a nightmare.  The scent of fresh blood filled her nostrils and she found, in a weird way, it reminded her of an erotic perfume that heightened her senses.

     But it hadn’t been a dream, blood smeared her skin and she had a delicious sweet metal taste in her mouth.

     Liquid dripped from her chin and she slicked her fingers over it, blood?  Was she injured?  She didn’t feel hurt, unless she counted the sharp sting on her backside.  Memories played back in her mind as the need to purge overwhelmed her.

    She must have looked bad, because Constantine swore, quick as a flash, he held her head over the kitchen sink and her stomach emptied it’s bloody contents.

     “What’s happening to me?”

     The words croaked from a throat that felt as if she’d swallowed white hot razor blades.

      “You are a vampire.”

      “Don’t be ridicu ...”  She expelled more bloody mucus as her brain tried to burst through her ears.

     In the back of her mind, she noticed that he held her hair back from her burning face.

     God, she felt awful.

     “This is a total and utter disaster!”  Constantine roared in her ear.  His voice was a whip, slashing over heightened senses.  How could he yell at her when she was feeling so ...

     A tsunami of blistering nausea almost knocked her from her feet.

     Sweat boiled from every pore.

     Her bones were melting and her body was burning in a fiery hell.

     Lea took a huge breath then screamed her lungs out in agony before the dark kiss of oblivion put her out of her misery.