He shifted his gaze to Roland. “You look as nervous as she does.”
Sarah glanced up and had to agree.
Roland’s lips tightened. “What if something goes wrong?”
“It won’t. She’ll be fine. And I’m only a phone call away if you have any questions or concerns. I’ll leave her training up to you, if that’s all right.”
They both nodded.
“I should be going now. I need to stop by Seattle on my way home.”
“Thank you, Seth,” Sarah said, “for everything.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome.”
An instant later, he was gone.
Sarah smiled up at Roland. “I’m a gifted one.”
“I know. I can’t believe it. But, Sarah …” He lightly clasped her upper arms and stared down at her, his expression earnest. “This doesn’t have to change anything. The fact that you can be transformed doesn’t mean you have to be. I don’t want you to feel you—”
“I want you to transform me,” she interrupted.
Extreme relief blanketing his features, he slid his arms around her, lifted her feet off the floor, and twirled her around. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
She laughed and, wrapping her arms around his neck, hugged him back. “So you’re happy?”
He nodded, his face buried in her hair. “I wouldn’t love you less if you said no. But, given the choice of spending either decades with you or centuries, I’d much rather have centuries.”
“Me, too.”
Setting her down, he drew back slightly and touched his lips to hers, first buoyantly, then tenderly.
Her heart did a funny little skip when she met his faintly luminous eyes.
“I love you, Sarah.”
“I love you, too.” So much more than she had dreamed was possible.
He kissed her again, held her close. “I’ll leave it up to you to decide when you’re ready.”
“There’s no time like the present.”
His face lit with surprise. “Now?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
She didn’t blame him. She had expressed, more than once, uneasiness over how quickly all this had happened. But she felt no such uneasiness now.
“I’m sure. I’m not going to change my mind. And the longer we put it off, the more nervous we’ll both become.”
His lips twisted ruefully. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”
“What? That you’re nervous?”
“Yes.”
She shrugged. “I would’ve known even if you’d hidden it. You’ve never transformed anyone before and you’re a tad obsessive when it comes to preventing me from experiencing any discomfort.” When his arms tightened and his face filled with dread, she patted his back comfortingly. “That look right there is why we need to go ahead and get it done. I know Seth said it’s like having the flu, but the longer we put it off, the more we’re both going to imagine it being worse.”
He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re right. Now it is, then.”
Thump.
Roland’s head snapped around at the odd noise that came from the kitchen. Eyes flaring, fangs descending, he was gone before Sarah even finished tensing.
“It’s all right,” he called a second later. “Come and see.”
Curious, she strode to the kitchen and paused just inside the entrance.
The largest gift basket she had ever seen sat in the middle of the floor. Decked with ribbons and bows, it was so large that if the contents were removed, she could curl up in it like a cat and take a nap.
“It’s for us,” Roland pronounced, opening a white envelope.
“Who’s it from?”
As he pulled out a folded sheet of paper, she moved closer and began to pick through the basket’s contents.
“It’s from David.”
There were several enormous bags of organic oranges so fragrant they made her mouth water, bottles of club soda, all-natural crackers sprinkled with sea salt, icy gel packs….
“Seth must have told him I’m going to transform you. David says you’ll have difficulty keeping food down for a couple of days, but fresh-squeezed orange juice and club soda will help.”
“And crackers?”
“Crackers and pita chips.”
Sure enough, there were several bags of super-crunchy baked pita chips with sea salt included.
Had David known it was her favorite brand or had it simply been a lucky guess?
She looked at Roland.
His eyes had lost their glow and were once more brown, his expression just this side of stunned.
“This is really nice,” Sarah said, a little stunned herself. David didn’t even know her and had only encountered Roland a few times, yet he’d opened up his home to them, told them they could stay as long as they wanted to, and now this?
Roland nodded slowly. “It is.”
She smiled. It was going to take him awhile to get used to having friends rather than acquaintances. “Let’s put the soda and the oranges in the fridge and get the gel packs in the freezer.”
There was so much it took them several minutes to finish.
“So,” she broached when they were done, “how are we going to do this?”
She was nervous. She didn’t want to be but couldn’t help it.
He swooped down and picked her up, one arm supporting her back, the other under her knees. “First, I will carry you to our bedroom.”
“Ooh,” she crooned, wrapping her arms around his neck as he left the kitchen and put action to words. “I like it so far.”
“Then … I’m going to place you on our bed.”
She nuzzled his neck and felt a shiver ripple through him. “Go on.”
“Peel your clothing off with my teeth.”
Her body melted at his words as he descended into the basement and made his way to their bedroom. “What next?”
“Make a slow exploration of your body with my tongue.”
His tongue, she thought as he crossed to the bed. His wicked, wicked tongue. “And then?”
“And then,” he said, placing her gently atop the covers, “as your body clenches in one of the many orgasms I intend to give you”—he knelt on the mattress beside her, leaned over her, kissed the base of her neck where her pulse hammered just beneath the surface—“I will bite you right here and make you mine forever.”
She arched against him when he drew his tongue across her skin. “Mmm. Don’t forget the stripping me with your teeth part.”
He chuckled, a warm, growly sound that sent excitement skittering through her. “I wouldn’t dare.”
Roland was true to his word. With teeth, tongue, and hands, he aroused Sarah to a fevered pitch, distancing himself from his own desire and gently rebuffing her attempts to pleasure him, too. It was imperative that he keep a clear head, which meant ignoring his own needs and focusing solely on hers.
And, as her body writhed in orgasm for the third time, he gently sank his teeth into her throat and, exalting in the life that flowed into his body, devoured her like the monster he had so often been named.
Chapter 19
Okay, clearly Seth had never had the flu.
The first day of the transformation was about what Sarah had expected. Once she had regained consciousness (she had passed out while Roland was drinking from her and had no memory of him biting her), she had gradually begun to feel unwell. Mild fever. Chills. Nausea that was sometimes assuaged by the orange juice and club soda and other times brought it right back up again.
She had tried to keep Roland from following her into the bathroom (there were just some things she’d rather he not see her do, and vomiting was one of them), but he insisted and she rapidly grew too weak to prevent it. So he held her hair for her, physically supported her when she needed it, loaded up her toothbrush with toothpaste once her stomach had emptied itself, and when her mouth was minty fresh again, carried her back to bed.
He brought a television and a DVD player down to their room, played cards with her, read to her, regaled her with tales of his amazing past. He squeezed dozens of oranges, made sure she had plenty of fluids, soothed her aching head with gel pack after gel pack.
He was wonderful. Patient. Had an excellent bedside manner.
It made her love him all the more.
Then everything sort of … deteriorated on the second day. Her fever rose. And rose. Things got pretty hazy after that. Sarah later recalled very little of it. Just flashes here and there of Roland’s worried face peering down at her as he urged her to drink more juice. Hearing him shout flu my ass! and if you aren’t here in five fucking seconds … ! Being submerged in an ice bath with Roland’s big body behind her, his arms locked around her, both supporting her and restraining her as she thrashed about, his choked voice in her ear, murmuring over and over again that he loved her. A man with the darkest skin she had ever seen, dreadlocks down to his hips and the face of a pharaoh leaning over them.
There followed a large block of nothingness, during which her fever evidently broke. Midway through day three, she awoke lucid, her stomach settled, with a massive toothache.
Roland, who was slumped in a chair by the bed with one of her hands clutched in his, looked more haggard than she had ever seen him. His cheeks and chin were coated with dark stubble. New creases lined his forehead and bracketed his mouth.
His relief when she squeezed his hand and gave him a weak smile was heartbreaking. Climbing into bed, he spooned up behind her, buried his face in her hair, and hugged the stuffing out of her for at least half an hour.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he whispered brokenly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
His lips brushed the back of her neck. “I love you, Sarah.” He pressed closer, as though he would burrow beneath her skin if he could. “I love you so much.”
Smiling, she closed her eyes as drowsiness slunk through her. “I love you, too.”