Posted By Christa on February 28, 2010
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The second in my vampire series, The Blood-Vine, was released last week at Liquid Silver Books. This story was one heck of a wild ride. I had fun with Katiya’s rebellious ways and even more of a blast with keeping Lucas in the dark. I did give him little hints of what was transpiring and when he finally put things together, oh boy, was he one, dominant, aggressive vampire. When he finally has Kat where he thinks she belongs, sparks fly, seduction ensues and Luke will stop at nothing to reclaim his mate for good.
Read on for the blurb and excerpt.
Thanks for stopping by today.
Christa
Katiya and Lucas are blood-bound mates. Nearly a decade ago, their idyllic relationship quickly devolved into one of animosity. Furious with Luke’s meddling in her privacy, Katiya left him. Except they have a pesky issue that continues to bind them together–they must carry on sharing their blood or face the deadly consequences, literally.
Ten years have passed since Kat moved out. Now, their estrangement is firmly in place and she is desperate to get on with her life. So desperate that she will even rebel against the long-held convictions of her people. Secretly, she has formed an infatuation for a co-worker. Tonight, she plans to take it to the next level.
Luke is unhappy with their tenuous situation. He is prepared to do anything to win her back. He wants her in his arms where he can show her the depths of his need. If seduction is the key to their reconciliation, he is more than ready to take her to new levels of pleasure. He needs her home with him to keep her safe and secure.
Once Kat takes a drastic step to alter her life, she comes face to face with a sinister threat. Lucas must find her in time, and when he does, he promises, on his life, that nothing will keep them apart ever again.
***
Chapter One
Tawny, damp skin held her attention. Muscled abs rippled and clenched tightly. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch the taut ridges. A bead of sweat trailed over the dusky, flat nipple on his chest. It pebbled hard. She licked her lips, wondering how he would taste. Captivated, she let her gaze travel upward, eager for a glimpse of rugged features and the color of his hair. She ached to see his face, to glance into his possessive stare.
Her mind would not cooperate, though. She tried to focus, but the image remained blurry. With her eyes fixed on the kaleidoscope of colors spiraling around her computer screen, she attempted zoning out again. She wanted to view more of that hot, male specimen her imagination had conjured up. Before she had a chance to see any more, the screensaver on her laptop froze. In a blink, it vanished and her desktop icons came into view. So much for daydreaming, she scowled irritably.
A chiming tone indicated she had received an email. She directed the cursor to her mailbox. When she clicked on the little flashing envelope, it opened the new message:
Katiya, Suite 410, at dusk. Put your hair up this time.
Luke
Lucas Komar was a total jerk. Impulsively, her hands went to the tight chignon at the nape of her neck, tucking in errant strands. These days, she always wore her hair up. Whether in a ponytail or twisted into a bun, she kept it pulled back. However, the first Thursday of every month she wore it long and loose. Just to piss Luke off. And boy, she had become a pro at making him mad. In fact, right from the start, she’d had that talent nailed down. She never did what he wanted, even went out of her way to make sure the complete opposite occurred.
Why should she conform to his standards, anyway? He didn’t deserve even a shred of her time, let alone an attempt on her part to make him happy. Not like he did a damn thing for her happiness. They had long ago left the lovey-dovey, kissy-kissy, puppy-dog-eyed adoration behind. Now, it was all business. If she had her say, it would be only a couple minutes in his presence to do her duty. Once finished, she would walk out, slamming the door in his too-smug face. But no, it didn’t work like that. They had to do the sit-down dinner and act civilized while sipping a rich, sweet wine. Finally, when everything had been said that could possibly be said, they would retire to the rented room and make use of its private confines.
With a shiver, she swallowed back the lump in her throat, knowing what the entire purpose of this whole deal meant. Three days of dabbing concealer on her throat, two days of ravenous replenishment, and one whole month of hating herself, and him, for the choice she had made so many years ago. Lather, rinse, repeat, ad infinitum.
Kat really wanted to tell Luke to screw off. However, doing so meant much more than breaking a date. It meant a hideously evil death-by-starvation for him and, consequently, a one-way ticket to old age for her. She didn’t like considering her impending demise. The whole ashes-to-ashes, dust-to-dust thing freaked her out. Wrinkly skin and gray hair were not very appealing either. She fully enjoyed looking like a twenty-five year old, fresh out of college. For a long while, she had benefited from this constant state of youth. Shucking it because of a little bit of hatred and murder plaguing her conscience hindered her desire to cut him off completely. Therefore, dutifully, every month, she gave him what he needed and went on with her life.
And went on, she certainly did. Recently, her eye had wandered, fixing upon one of the new CPAs her company had hired. Tall, lithe, and amusing, Daniel Miller positively dripped with intelligence and charm. Also, he looked at her with a tad more interest than a co-worker should. She didn’t mind it one bit. In fact, sometimes a wicked, cajoling voice in her head prodded her to encourage his advances. They sat next to each other during staff meetings now, sharing secret smiles when no one was looking. Every once in a while, he asked her to join him for a working lunch and she gladly agreed to go.
He didn’t know her secret and she wouldn’t be sharing it with him any time soon. Thinking of her clandestine activities, Katiya’s gaze flicked down to her blotter.
A towering stack of files took up one half of her desk, while the other side held a similar pile of those already completed. Newly printed invoices, in a wrought iron basket, waited for her attention. Pens and paper, stamps and staples, sat in haphazard positions amidst the chaos and clutter on her desktop. Such disorder gave the distinct impression that she was hard at work. But Kat knew better.
It was only a facade; a well-achieved one at that.
Rather, the open file folders sprawled in front of her managed to do a nice job of covering the planner underneath; perfectly so. The bland, yellow manila envelope worked as a screen, hiding the calendar and its daily squares. The tape dispenser secured everything down. It hardly mattered what she put on top of her eighteen-month date book. When she closed her eyes, the weekly layout flashed in her memory like a tickertape news alert on CNN.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday … nothing important there except her typical meetings, accounts receivable and a few meaningless entries.
Then there was today, the first Thursday of the month. This one was different. The square for the day had been outlined with a thick red Sharpie, until no black showed. Scribbled within the crimson border was only one letter, L. Beside it, red ink crisscrossed through the next three days. A testament to how long she would be out of commission after her appointment with Luke.
She had no real choice in the matter. Like all the mated females of her kind, her life was bound to another. Because she chose to live outside of her native community, Kat took additional precautions to ensure her unusual dealings with Luke were never revealed.
Nearly three decades ago, her people fled to Los Angeles seeking a safe home where they could live privately. Now, they kept their secrets well hidden. The culture of the Kan Asma dwelled in a shadowy existence. They feared exposure and would not risk another mass-destruction of lives because of their altered genetics. Sticking together ensured limited exposure of their unique characteristics. The safety of their community superseded all social expectations. Often times, the females bore the brunt of the apprehension and had limited exposure with the human population in the city.
Following a nasty argument with Luke, though, Kat had distanced herself from anything remotely related to her background. She didn’t care about the consequences, personal or otherwise. Katiya simply wanted out.
A quick staccato rap on her door jarred her attention back to the present. She knew that knock and considered for a second; perhaps she had summoned Daniel with a subconscious thought. Even when she wanted to erase all possible connection with Luke, obviously some still remained. It seemed she might have tapped into Lucas’ unique talent, one of a group of ‘talents’ that her people called Hibe. The choice of language was an archaic throwback to the Turkish settlers of the First Family. Many still used it as if they resided in Abkhazia today.
Luke’s talent was the power of persuasion and suggestion. Through their blood-bond, she shared his preternatural gift. The years of their separation dimmed her ability to exercise it at will. Kat figured a fleeting capacity for using suggestion remained within her. Somehow, she realized, Daniel arrived only after her budding relationship with him had dominated her thoughts. Might as well take advantage of the circumstances and enjoy the end result. This turn of events could help her with Daniel. No point in dithering, she mused, and decided to benefit while she could.
“It’s open,” she called out. Her lips curved up at the corners, while her heart beat a little faster. It had been a really long time since she felt giddy over a guy.
The door swung on its hinges and he stepped through the threshold. Flawlessly tailored, Daniel wore pressed black slacks and a pinstriped shirt with a vibrant, red tie. It instantly reminded her of blood. Rich, crimson fluid contained in a golden goblet.
Oh hell, shut up. Get with the program and get your mind off Luke, blood, and any other facet of your old life, she mentally admonished herself.
“Kat,” his low voice drew her attention and she looked up at him expectantly.
“Hi, Daniel.” Deliberately she blinked, and flashed a beguiling smile.
He returned it with a grin of his own, not bothering to conceal his desire.
“Did you eat yet?” Two long-legged strides brought him right in front of her desk. Today, he looked more Calvin Klein than Armani, but the clothes worked for him. With handsome, boyish features, he could easily be a GQ model and his magnetism fascinated her. Kat took in the sight, enjoying what she saw immensely.
“Sorry. I did,” she replied, wishing she had waited a little longer before wolfing down her turkey on sourdough sandwich. Trying to explain, she added, “I am swamped.”
In a swift move, he pushed aside her files and folders, tilted his head to the side and scrutinized her calendar. Drat! There was no way at all she wanted any questions asked about her imminent schedule.
“Going out of town or something?” Daniel’s elegant finger touched the square, tapped right on top of the L.
Grimacing, she shrugged, “Business.”
One side of his mouth quirked up, “Want company?”
Yeah, that would go over like a freight train collision. Hey, Luke, this is Daniel. He tagged along to watch. Let’s give him a show. In her mind’s eye, she imagined the ensuing carnage, the bloodlust and animalistic rage of Luke’s response. She choked back a nervous laugh. Oh sure, that might tick the beast off just a smidge. Even so, she actually considered doing it. For only a split-second before her sanity returned and she decided it probably meant a viciously dismembered Daniel. Nothing sexy about being dead; she liked her Daniel alive and well.
Her Daniel. Oh, that sounded nice.
“Kat?”
To buy some time, she cleared her throat and yanked a memo over, covering up the calendar. What to say, hmmm?
“Thanks for the offer, Daniel. I can’t, though. Maybe another time?” There, she sounded professional and yet promising.
“Let me take you to dinner instead. On me. I think you need a relaxing evening before throwing away your whole weekend for this job,” his voice had lowered to a slight demand.
When she hesitated, he reached across the space and took her hand in his. The pad of his thumb brushed her palm, teased, “Say yes, Kat. It’ll be fun, I promise. Like a date.”
Don’t do it. Kat knew saying yes invited the possibility of trouble. However, if timed right, say before the sun had set, there couldn’t be much to worry about. But it was both prudent and safe to decline. Shaking her head in resignation she replied, “Okay, sure. Why not?”
No, no, no. She did not just say that, did she? He spoke again; damn, apparently she had.
“How about seven?” Daniel’s smooth query had an excited edge to it.
“Yes,” Kat murmured, while warning bells pealed loud and clear in her thoughts. “Oh wait, no. I mean we need to go earlier. Work is demanding and such.” Smooth going, Katiya, she thought irritably as her pulse picked up pace. She was flirting with danger and knew it, but embraced it wholeheartedly. What Luke didn’t know wouldn’t kill either of them. If he did know, now that possibility she vowed to avoid completely.
Before Daniel left her office, Kat made sure to set a safer time and they agreed to meet at Chimera Restaurant off of La Cienega in Beverly Hills. It worked out well because her destination after dinner was located down the road a few miles. She needed to run home, gather up some things, stash them in an overnight bag and freshen up. Exhilaration bubbled in her stomach while she contemplated what to wear for her date. A grin tugged at her lips; poor Luke would have to eat dinner all by himself while she wined and dined with Daniel. Good, Kat smirked, the overbearing male deserved it.
The rest of the afternoon slid by and she scarcely completed a thing. When the clock finally indicated that her day was officially done, she pushed away from her desk and stood up. Gleefully, she reached over and flipped the date book closed. Katiya uncapped her water jug and doused the scraggy-looking plant that sat askew on her standard, gunmetal gray file cabinet. She’d won the unfortunate perennial at a bonding-shower and her neglect was obvious. So much for a last-ditch effort, she thought as the final water drops plopped onto the fragile, yellowing leaves. After two-pointing the empty bottle into the recycle bin, she turned to retrieve her purse from its perch on the bookshelf and slung it over her shoulder.
Excitement dogged her steps as she strode across the small, boxy office. Switching off the lights, she plunged the room into darkness, the only light seeping in from the corridor behind her. She paused long enough to close and lock her door. In the general reception area, she waved half-heartedly to the woman sitting behind a contemporary marble counter. Kat didn’t wait for the receptionist to respond. Instead, she made her way to the elevator. Pushing the down arrow, she tapped an impatient foot.
A quick glance at her watch told her that she only had an hour and a half to get everything done. Not enough time, but it must do. Come on, she willed the elevator to hurry up while silently cursing the fact she worked on the eighteenth floor. A little ping indicated its arrival. Quickly, she stepped inside and pressed the Garage button twice. Kat hoped no one else would join her and slow the descent with multiple stops. The doors slid shut and she let out a sigh of relief at being the sole occupant. When the lift started its decline, she leaned back waiting for it to carry her to the parking lot.
Fifteen minutes later she pulled into her driveway, threw her Jetta into park, and took the key out of the ignition. Hastily, she got out of the car. The moment Kat entered the house she tossed her keys and purse on the entry hall table and ran down the hallway to her room. With one swift move, she kicked off her heels.
On the back of her door hung a large duffle bag; a quick yank and it came off the peg. After bringing it over to the dresser, she rummaged around in her drawers and started to pack all the necessary items for the weekend: cotton yoga pants, a ribbed baby-doll tee, her plain everyday panties. Nothing special. Not for Luke. No way. Kat’s days of wearing lacy scraps to entice him had long passed. The thing he hated even more than her hair being left unbound and hampering his every move was when she wore slouchy flannel pajamas. The pink-striped pair he so detested sat in the bottom drawer; with a decisive grab, she shoved them into the bag.
Moving into the attached bathroom, she leaned over and turned on the spigot. She considered the bath gels and selected the pearlescent jasmine oil. A few capfuls under the water made it foam up nice and inviting. While the tub filled, she went to work adding toiletries into her bag. Once done, she quickly stripped off her work suit, throwing the skirt and tailored coat into a bamboo hamper. A tug at the clasp between her breasts released the stiff support of her bra. She took in a deep breath, reveling in the cool air on her nipples. Rolling her nylons off and shucking her panties, she dropped them both to the floor. Totally naked, she turned off the faucet and set her foot into the hot, sudsy water, getting ready to lay back and soak for a few blissful minutes.
The shrill ringing of her house phone put her plan on hold. With one wet and one dry foot, she jogged through her room to the nightstand and grabbed the receiver. Irritated at the bad timing, she answered in a frustrated voice, “Yeah, hello?”
“Katiya,” the deep, rumbling growl of her name raked over her like phantom fingers, stroking along every sensitive nerve ending. “I am hungry, baby. For you,” he added in a low and enticing voice.
Wicked, lustful images came unbidden into her thoughts. Kat’s grip on the phone tightened and her hand shook. Damn it, no. She would not melt into a puddle simply because his tone sounded rough, needy. Where was her own voice when she needed to say something scathing? It seemed like she had lost it. To gather her wits, she looked up at the ceiling, trying to form a coherent but aloof reply. She only managed to say, “Lucas.”
Silence stretched out between them. Kat bristled. Listening to him breathe helped to bring back her perspective. Exhaling, she huffed audibly. “What do you want, Luke?”
A long pause. “You know, Katiya. Close your eyes, baby, feel me.”
Her eyelids drooped as if he commanded them somehow through the phone line. The shadow of a memory speared through her mind’s eye. She remembered a whisper of his touch, the brush of warm lips against her soft flesh and a hard male body covering hers. Kat felt them all. Urgency, a bone-melting, aching, yawning emptiness crashed into her, making her shudder with pent up desire and emotions she swore never to feel again.
“Stop it, Luke,” she uttered, breathless and trembling.
“Never!” he replied harshly.
They didn’t speak and Kat flirted with the idea of hanging up on him. She refused to give in to the urge, knowing they must end on some semblance of good will so that later, when they met at the hotel, things went smoothly and quickly. He needn’t know about her dinner date and he certainly had no right to run roughshod over her already-made plans.
With another man … her conscience screamed out loud and clear.
Gritting her teeth, she hoped that Luke had no connection to her other than through the phone, or things probably weren’t going to go as planned.
“Why did you really call?” she asked with forced civility.
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