On The Run With A Vampire

19. Raven

CHAPTER 19

RAVEN

The fact that we’re being framed for murder so a government agency can get extra funding is almost funny.

Almost.

Because every time I find myself chuckling over just how batshit insane this all is, I remember Cathy Corrigan lying on the gurney at the morgue, and suddenly it’s not so funny anymore.

It is still batshit insane, though.

By the time we make it back to The Hideout , it’s pouring with rain, which suits my mood just fine.

“We’ll have to share this with Cordelia,” Lucien says as we walk toward the building. This time I can see it in all its glory, and the two gargoyles I assume Lucien was arguing with last night. They turn their heads as we approach, yellow eyes glinting, but otherwise remain silent.

“You think she already knows?” I ask.

The front door swings open as soon as we walk past the gargoyles.

“There’s no reason for her to hide it from us if she is aware, so I doubt it.” We step into the long corridor, and Lucien wrinkles his nose. “Smells like a wet dog in here.”

It does, actually, just a little.

Weird.

“So what’s the plan?” I ask as we walk up the corridor. Was it this long last night?

“I’m not sure yet,” Lucien says, and he looks alarmingly worried. “There are the two buffoons?—”

“Melody and Todd.”

“Yes, yes,” he nods absentmindedly. “Those two. They’re obviously our best bet since we have no idea wh?—”

The door at the far end of the corridor, the one that leads to Cordelia’s office-slash-lair, is suddenly slammed open. Lucien and I both freeze as a man emerges from the room and starts stalking down the corridor.

The look on his face is, to put it mildly, murderous. His eyes are narrowed, his lips twisted into a snarl, and his entire body is taut with barely concealed anger.

“This isn’t fair and you know it, Cordelia!” he yells over his shoulder. “They’re just kids; they need some?—”

The door to Cordelia’s office-slash-lair swiftly shuts, accompanied by a loud and pointed click sound.

“Unbelievable,” the man growls. “Un-fucking-believable.”

And then he notices us.

I watch as the anger on his face melts away and is quickly replaced by suspicion. His thick ginger brows knot in the middle, and he cocks his head to the side. “You here to see Cordelia? I’d wait a while. She’s in a foul mood.”

“When is she not?” Lucien mutters.

The man lets out a bark of laughter. “Fair.” He takes a few steps closer, and I get my first proper look at him. He’s got a mane of dishevelled ginger hair, and the loose strands that fall across his forehead frame a face that’s somehow both rugged and impossibly handsome. His skin is a canvas of dark freckles, and he has a thick, white scar arching over his nose.

As he gets nearer, his nose twitches slightly. His sharp gaze flickers between Lucien, me, and then, once they land back on Lucien, they narrow with a sudden, unsettling intensity. A faint growl rumbles from his throat. “Vampire.”

It’s not a question, but Lucien nods. “Wolf.”

Wolf? As in werewolf?

The man—the wolf—nods. “You wouldn’t happen to be the vampire causing all this trouble?”

“That depends,” Lucien says. “What trouble are you referring to?”

The wolf takes a step closer until they’re practically standing chest to chest. Lucien, to his credit, doesn’t even flinch. It’s like he hasn’t noticed the wolf-man’s thick, rippling muscles or the fact that he’s baring his teeth in a soundless snarl.

He lifts a thick finger and prods Lucien’s chest. “Do you know how hard I’ve had to work to keep the S.B.E.F away from my pack?” Another prod. “I’ve spent months keeping Melody away from us and drawing her off our scent. And then you—” Another prod. “You just went and ruined everything.”

Something dangerous flashes in Lucien’s eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The wolf’s growl deepens. “Don’t play dumb with me. Once you’re done with whatever mess you’ve created for yourself, they’ll come after us all. They’ll be hunting anyone who even remotely smells like trouble.”

The tension between them crackles like static. I glance between Lucien and the wolf. Lucien’s expression is tight, but his voice is unnervingly calm. “As I said, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The wolf’s lips curl into a snarl, and I get my first glimpse of two sharp canines. “We’re all in trouble because you can’t handle your shit.”

“I can handle myself just fine,” Lucien snaps back, showing off his own fangs in all their glory. “Would you like me to demonstrate?”

“Okay,” I say loudly and take a step between the two of them. I can practically smell the testosterone in the air. “Enough of that.”

Both men blink at me. The wolf sniffs again, then frowns and cocks his head to the side. “Human?”

“It’s Raven,” I say. “And yes, I’m human.”

The wolf’s thick brows shoot up in surprise, his eyes widening as he takes a second, more appraising look at me. “But you’re running around with a vampire?” He says the word ‘vampire’ like it’s dirty.

“I am,” I say, like it’s no big deal and ‘running around with a vampire’ is perfectly normal. I suppose it is for me now. “And this is Lucien.”

Lucien, refusing to take the hint to politely reintroduce himself, remains silent.

“And you are?” I continue, swiftly moving on.

The wolf’s gaze lingers on me for several long seconds. Then, just as I’m beginning to wonder if he’ll answer at all, his lips split open into a downright charming smile. It’s like all the hostility from literally seconds ago has just melted off him. “Milo,” he says.

Milo .

Then he leans in slightly, lowering his voice to a stage whisper. “Blink twice if he’s holding you hostage and you need help.”

Lucien’s face darkens almost immediately. “Listen, wolf?—”

“We don’t want any trouble,” I say quickly, glancing over my shoulder to shoot Lucien a glare that hopefully says ‘ Shut. Up .’ From the slight pout that pulls at his lip, I think he gets the message. “But earlier, you mentioned someone called Melody?”

“Maybe,” Milo says, suddenly sounding incredibly cagey. “Why’re you asking?”

“It’s a long story.”

Milo crosses his arms over his chest and lifts a brow. “I’ve got time.”

Beside me, Lucien huffs, but he doesn’t interrupt as I launch into explaining the last 96 hours to Milo. By the time I’ve got it all out, I’m practically out of breath and can’t quite believe that this is actually my life. That vampires and werewolves and witches are now part of my new normal.

Milo exhales a breath and leans against the nearest wall. “What’re you telling me here?”

“I think it’s quite obvious,” Lucien grumbles, leaning against the opposite wall. He’s glaring at Milo like he’s the reason for every last awful thing that’s happened to us. “Somebody is framing me for murder, and that somebody is the S.B.E.F.”

Milo shakes his head roughly. “No. No way. Melody would never do something like that.”

“How would you know?” Lucien asks, blatant disbelief colouring his tone.

Milo hesitates. “I just do. You have to trust me on that.”

Lucien snorts. “I’ll do no such thing.”

A pulsing vein suddenly appears on Milo’s forehead. “Melody is a little exuberant, sure, but she’d never kill anyone.”

“She nearly killed me,” Lucien says. I have to admit, he does have a point. After all, she nearly killed me too.

“You don’t count,” Milo snarls. “And even if she did?—”

“She did!” Lucien squawks.

“I’m sure it wasn’t intentional,” Milo finishes, ignoring Lucien’s interruption entirely.

There’s something about the way Milo talks about Melody that has alarm bells ringing in my head. “You’re very defensive over her,” I say. “Why? If she’s trying to get to your pack, I’d have thought you’d hate her.”

I might be wrong, but I think Milo’s cheeks start to colour ever so slightly. “I just know her, alright?” he says gruffly. “She means well and I know she’d never do anything like what you’re accusing her of.”

“Maybe not her,” I concede, sensing Milo isn’t going to budge on the Melody front. “But maybe someone she works with. Maybe Todd?”

Milo snorts. “If Todd is behind any of this, I’ll eat my own fist.”

Poor Todd. At least Melody has Milo in her corner, but I don’t think a single supernatural being I’ve met since this mess started has spared even an ounce of respect for him.

“Okay. But what about her mysterious new boss? Maybe they’re the evil mastermind behind it all. Any idea who it might be?”

“I wish.” Milo exhales a tired breath. “I’ve been trying to figure it out for a while now, but no luck.”

“Melody’s never mentioned a name or anything?”

“Nothing,” Milo says. “And believe me, I’ve tried every trick in the book to get it out of her.”

“So what you’re telling us is that you’re incompetent?” Lucien interrupts.

Milo turns on him. “I’m responsible for keeping my entire pack alive. Don’t you ever, ever suggest I wouldn’t put my all into keeping them safe.”

“He’s not suggesting that,” I say quickly. I shoot Lucien another irritated glare. “What is his problem?”

“We’re just—This has been a lot for us,” I say, letting my shoulders sag under the weight of everything that’s happened. “We’re just trying to get to the bottom of it before someone else gets hurt.”

Milo turns back to me, his gaze softening slightly. “And I hope you do. Because I promise you this: if this goes much further, all hell is going to break loose.”

“Is there some kind of ancient vampire and werewolf rivalry I should know about?” I say as soon as our bedroom door clicks shut behind us.

“Hm?” Lucien hums, his face a mask of innocence. “What was that?”

“You heard me. What was that back there?”

“What was what?”

“I swear to God, Lucien?—”

He sighs dramatically and drops down onto the edge of our pitiful bed. “There is no ‘ancient rivalry’. At least, there’s not one that I’m aware of. I suppose it’s conceivable that, at some point in history, vampires and wolves may have?—”

“Lucien.” I cut him off and settle down beside him on the bed. “You are one hundred years old.”

“One hundred and forty-two.”

“Even worse. If I’m too old for this kind of behaviour, then you most definitely are.” I bump my leg against his, and he chuckles softly.

“You may have a point.”

“I absolutely have a point.”

He runs a hand through his still somehow perfectly windswept hair and shoots me a slightly bashful smile. “He blamed me for what’s happening. And he’s right. It is my fault. If I had never come to this city, Ms. Corrigan would still be alive and not rotting on a gurney, bruised and broken. If I had never come to this city, you wouldn’t be on the run, accused of murder and desperately trying to clear your name.”

I reach out a hand and give Lucien’s thigh a gentle squeeze. “But it’s not your fault. You know that, right?”

Lucien shrugs and places a hand over mine. “That remains to be seen. But that wasn’t why the wolf?—”

“Milo.”

Lucien bristles. “Yes. Him. My issue downstairs wasn’t with the wolf and his baseless accusations.”

“Then what was the issue?”

“You, Raven. The issue was you.”

I blink at him. “Me?”

“Or, I suppose I mean the way you make me feel,” Lucien continues. His hand is still gripping mine, his thumb rubbing absentminded circles against my skin. “Do you know what it’s like to have not felt jealousy in years, to have completely forgotten the emotion even existed, and then to feel it all at once without warning?”

Jealousy? I play back my interaction with Milo, trying to pick out anything that might have triggered a bout of jealousy in Lucien, but I come up blank.

“Seeing how easily Milo endeared himself to you?—”

“I wouldn’t say he endeared?—”

“It unearthed an emotion I thought I was long since incapable of feeling,” Lucien continues. “I admit, it hit me harder than I expected, but it shouldn’t have surprised me the way it did.” He takes his free hand and brings it to my face.

His fingers gently trace my cheek, and the look in his eyes is so intense, I can’t bring myself to look away. “Everything I feel when it comes to you is so much more, Raven. It’s like every emotion is magnified where you’re concerned.”

I swallow. “Lucien, I?—”

“It’s disconcerting to say the least,” Lucien says. “And I don’t understand it in the slightest, but that’s how I feel.”

I wait a few seconds to see if he has anything else to add. I can feel a laugh bubbling up my throat and try to choke it down. “Lucien, I—Um—Have you considered the possibility that you might have—Well—I think you have a crush. On me,” I add as an afterthought, just in case there’s any room for confusion.

Lucien stares at me.

And stares and stares and stares.

Then his eyes widen slightly and he yanks his hand away from face as if I’ve just burned him. “I am one hundred and forty-two years old, not a five-year-old schoolboy.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop another fresh wave of laughter. “There’s no age limit on having a crush.”

“No,” Lucien shakes his head. “Just because your smile lights up a room, like the sun breaking through clouds? Just because seeing you cry broke my non-existent heart and I’d do anything to make sure you never feel like that again? Just because the rhythm of your heartbeat has imprinted itself in my mind and has quickly become my favourite sound? Just because I spent the entirety of last night wondering if there was a way I could fit into your life once this is all over? All that means I must have a crush? Ha!” he scoffs. “That is absurd. You are being absurd. I just—I just—” He trails off, eyes widening even further. “Oh.”

His face softens, and the shift in his gaze is unmistakable. I can tell the exact moment the realisation hits him like a cargo train.

“Oh,” he says again, his voice cracking slightly as it stretches out the exclamation into at least three strained syllables. “It seems you’re correct. I have a crush. I have feelings. For you.” He suddenly looks so uncertain, so unlike the confident man I’ve come to know, that my heart aches a little. “And what am I supposed to do about it?”

“Whatever you want.” I press a hand against Lucien’s chest and lean in, closing the distance between us. “Whatever we want.”

And then my lips find his, and it feels like we’re picking up right where we left off last night.

Lucien’s hand comes up immediately to rest against the back of my neck, deepening the kiss as his fingers gently tangle through my curls. Just that simple touch sends a shiver down my spine. I respond instinctively, arching into him, desperate for more.

Lucien leans back, pulling me down onto the bed as he goes. But the second his back touches the stiff mattress, he hisses against my lips and immediately jolts up again.

“Sorry. My wound—” he winces. “It seems it’s still tender.”

“It’s fine,” I murmur against his lips, unwilling to break the kiss for anything. And anyway, I can make this work.

I shift my weight until I’m straddling him, knees on either side of his thighs. Lucien lets out a low groan as I grind experimentally against him, twisting my hips until I feel the unmistakable firmness of his steadily hardening dick brushing against me.

His grip on my hair tightens, and his other hand flies down to squeeze the curve of my ass.

“Raven,” he groans. “Raven. Raven. Raven.”

I don’t think my name has ever sounded so good, and my pussy twitches with each drawn-out groan. He says my name like it’s something to revere. Like I’m someone to revere. Like he could happily spend the rest of eternity with me in this room.

I think I get it.

Because this is everything.

“Lucien,” I pant against his lips, grinding down harder against him. The friction is delicious, but it’s not nearly enough. I need more. I need skin on skin.

As if he’s just read my mind, Lucien’s hands suddenly move to the hem of my shirt, fingers skimming along the sliver of exposed skin just below my belly button. “May I?” he murmurs.

“Please.” I lift my arms. In one fluid motion, he pulls my vest over my head and tosses it aside. His eyes roam hungrily over my newly exposed chest.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a trail of kisses along my collarbone down towards the swell of my breasts. “Utterly beautiful.”

His lips are blissfully cool against my burning skin.

More.

More.

I need so much more.

I’m starting to wonder if Lucien really can read my mind because he suddenly brings a hand up to palm one of my breasts. He runs his thumb over my nipple and smirks—fucking smirks—when a needy moan slips from my lips.

He pulls back slightly, thumb still tracing torturous circles against my nipple, and grins wide enough to show off the points of his fangs. “So sensitive.”

I open my mouth to respond, but the words die on my tongue, replaced by a strangled kind of moan, as Lucien leans in again and takes my nipple in his mouth. My back arches, my fingers tighten in his hair, my vision blurs, and the tight coil in the pit of my stomach suddenly snaps.

Lucien continues to nip and suck at my nipples, alternating between the two, as I ride the waves of my unexpected orgasm. He seems to take each breathless moan as further encouragement and doesn’t let up for even a second. While I’m still blinking away the last remnants of pure bliss and trying to catch my breath, Lucien suddenly stands up.

I start to wrap my legs around his waist to try to balance myself against him, but he quickly flips us so I’m lying on the bed and he’s hovering over me.

“Your heart,” he says, his voice lower than I think I’ve ever heard it before.

I don’t know what it says about me that I’m more irritated than panicked at the thought of my heart failing me in this moment, but I am. “What?” I ask. “What’s wrong? I don’t feel?—”

Lucien shakes his head. “Nothing is wrong. I just—” He leans in to press a soft, lingering kiss right above the spot where my heart sits. “I’ve never come across a heart that beats quite like yours. It’s like a song I never knew I was missing until I heard it.”

My breath stutters in my throat.

Without breaking eye contact, Lucien’s lips travel from the spot above my heart back to my mouth. The kiss is soft at first, like he’s trying his best to savour the moment. But then the dam breaks, and Lucien is kissing me like his life depends on it.

Each brush of his lips sends waves of heat through me. Every caress of his tongue against mine makes my heart thud.

Let it never be said that Raven Hartley is a selfish lover. I make sure to give just as good as I’m getting, and Lucien doesn’t hold back in showing his appreciation. His pleased groans vibrate in the back of my throat, and I can feel the hard length of him twitching impatiently against my thigh.

If there was any doubt in my mind that he doesn’t want this as much as I do, it disappears then and there.

I pull away from the kiss to take a gulp of air and tug at the hem of his shirt. “Your turn.”

Lucien obliges, and the shirt is gone in a blink. I run my hands over the planes of his chest, marvelling at the smooth, cool skin beneath my fingertips. He’s breathtaking.

Our lips crash together again as we frantically work to remove the rest of our clothes. I fumble with the belt of his trousers while Lucien gets rid of my shorts and panties in one smooth tug.

Soon we’re both naked, skin pressed against skin. Lucien’s arms tighten around me. My heart thuds in my chest. There’s something overwhelmingly tender about the way he’s holding me—like I’m something irreplaceable to him and he’s afraid to let go.

For a moment, I forget all about the crimes we’ve been accused of committing and that we’re being framed by at least one person at the S.B.E.F. For a few seconds, nothing else matters but this.

Lucien suddenly pulls away from my lips and begins peppering kisses down, down, down. I gasp as he settles between my thighs, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips.

I know what he’s about to do, and my entire body tenses in sweet, sweet anticipation.

At least, I thought I knew what he was about to do.

Instead of leaning in and running his tongue along the entrance of my wet and most definitely more than ready pussy, Lucien presses a kiss to my inner thigh.

And another.

And then he bites down. I arch off the bed as his fangs sink into me. The pinprick of pain from the bite quickly morphs into pleasure as he starts sucking.

This is different from back in the car. That was about survival—mostly. But this? This is on an entirely new level. I groan and writhe beneath him as he feeds, enjoying the sparks of pleasure that shoot through me as he drinks.

When he eventually pulls back, his eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them, and his lips are red.

Red with my blood.

My pussy twitches again.

The sight of him, fangs bared, blood trickling down his chin, shouldn’t turn me on this much. And yet…

“Raven,” he growls my name as he climbs back up my body. “Raven Hartley.” One hand comes to stroke my jaw, the other?—

“God,” I cry as he slides one long finger inside me and presses his thumb against my clit. “Oh—I—” He presses down again, and I’m pretty sure I see stars.

“Raven,” he groans again, adding another finger while his thumb rubs fast little circles against my clit.

Stars.

Fireworks.

Explosions.

I see it all as Lucien presses down hard one last time.

Have I ever been touched like this before? I don’t think so.

He swallows my cry with another searing kiss that just about takes my breath away. Ironic, I know, given the circumstances.

“You consume my every waking thought,” he says against my lips. A hand travels down my side to rest on my hip, pulling me up slightly until my core is centred with his. “And I have a lot of those.”

I start to laugh, but then he slides his dick against my slick entrance, and the sound turns into a moan halfway through. The moan quickly turns into a high-pitched cry as Lucien slides inside me.

He hisses as I take him in, and I grip onto him so tight I’m certain I’ll leave crescent-shaped bruises on his arms. That’s even if vampires can bruise. I’m not entirely sure they can, but?—

Lucien rolls his hips, and I bite down on his bicep in a failed attempt to muffle my cry.

“That’s my job, love,” Lucien murmurs, thrusting back and forth in a rhythm that has me on edge almost immediately. It’s insane how perfect this is. How perfectly he fits inside me. How good this all feels.

I lean back against the pillow, lost in a world of bliss to even acknowledge how flat the damn thing is, and let myself relax as Lucien rocks into me.

His movements are slow and deliberate, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through my body. I arch my back, pressing myself closer to him, desperate for more contact.

“You’re exquisite,” he breathes. “Perfect.”

I try to respond, but I can’t form even one coherent word right now, let alone full sentences. I’ve been reduced to nothing but breathy whimpers and gasps as Lucien bucks into me, hitting that sweet spot deep inside that has me seeing that beautiful blend of stars and fireworks again.

I trail my fingers down his back, feeling the taut muscles flexing beneath his cool skin.

“Look at me,” Lucien suddenly says.

I open my eyes, not even realising I’d closed them in the first place. He holds my gaze as he increases his pace. The sudden change in rhythm pulls a strangled gasp out of me.

“That’s it,” he says, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Let me hear you, love.”

And who am I to deny him this?

I let out a loud and deep moan. The sound seems to spur Lucien on, and his thrusts quickly become more forceful. More urgent. His eyes are dark with unmistakable desire, and I can see the tips of his fangs peeking out from behind his lips.

“Lucien,” I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. “I’m close. I’m so close.”

He growls low in his throat. “Then come for me, my love. Let go.”

As if to urge me on, his hand snakes between us, finding my most sensitive bundle of nerves, and he resumes circling it with his thumb. The twin sensations of his dick pounding inside me and his featherlight touch on my clit are overwhelming.

I can feel the pressure building. I'm close. So close it feels like I’m teetering on the edge of oblivion. But I don’t want to come just yet. Not like this.

“Wait,” I pant.

Lucien slows his movements. “What? What do you need, Raven?”

I tilt my head to the side and offer up the curve of my neck. “Bite me.”

His eyes widen, pupils dilating until there's only a thin ring of gold and green around them. He swallows thickly and then says, “Are you sure?”

I nod and arch my back to press myself closer to him. I feel his dick twitch inside me, which sets off another round of spasms. “Please. I’m so close, and I want you to?—”

He groans and swiftly buries his face in the crook of my neck. His fangs graze my pulse point and then they sink into my flesh.

I cry out, gripping him tighter as he begins to drink. Each pull of his mouth sends shockwaves through my body, amplifying every thrust of his hips.

Lucien moans against my neck, and the vibrations travel straight to my core.

I can feel him everywhere, and it’s somehow equal parts too much and not enough.

The dual sensations of his feeding and fucking push me closer and closer towards the edge. I retangle my fingers in his hair and hold him close as waves of pleasure start to crash over me. I'm drowning in the sensation of it all, lost in a delicious haze of ecstasy.

I feel my inner walls clench around him as I come undone.

Lucien groans against my neck, his hips stuttering as he follows me over the edge. He pulls away from my neck and licks the area he pierced with a few languid swipes of his tongue. He presses soft kisses along my neck, jaw, and cheek before capturing my lips in a tender kiss.

“Fuck,” I groan, riding out the last few waves.

“Indeed,” Lucien pants before collapsing on top of me. After a few moments, he lifts his head to look at me. His eyes are back to their normal colour, a beautiful green with gold flecks. There’s a hint of concern in them as he gently touches the spot where he bit me.

“Are you alright?” he asks softly. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”

I shake my head, feeling a lazy smile start to spread across my face. “No, absolutely not.” I let out a contented sigh as Lucien shifts to lie beside me, pulling me close against his chest. “Did you?—”

A knock at the door makes us both jump.

In a flash, Lucien tugs the scratchy blanket over our bodies. It’s good that he’s fast because the door opens without waiting to hear a ‘come in’ from either of us. Though I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me, because it’s Cordelia standing in the doorway.

She casts an unimpressed eye over the two of us, taking in my messy hair, my flushed skin, and the pile of clothes scattered around the bed.

“It’s considered polite to wait until you’ve been invited in,” Lucien says frostily.

Cordelia shrugs. “I’m not a vampire, so that doesn’t apply to me.” She pauses and then adds, with a sneer, “Thankfully.”

I feel Lucien bristle beside me. “Did you need something?” I ask before Lucien can say something that’ll likely get us kicked out.

“I just thought you might like to know that while you two were—Ah. Shall we say, getting to know one another?—”

“Cordelia,” Lucien says, the warning evident in his tone.

Cordelia either doesn’t hear it or simply chooses to ignore it. I’m certain it’s the latter.

“There’s been another murder,” she says in the kind of tone you might reserve for something entirely uneventful. “And the humans are pinning it on you two once again.”

Every ounce of pleasure and happiness I’d been feeling just moments ago is sapped out of me, replaced by a heavy feeling of dread.

Shit.