Blood Calls. Caridad Pineiro
hopes of driving Ramona from his mind. When he realized that every female he had chosen reminded him of the eccentric artist, he’d given up and decided to resort to wine to force thoughts of her away.
Diana laid a hand on Ryder’s arm, urging him to release Diego, which he did. She slipped from her stool and said, “I’ll let you two talk. Be back later.”
With a quick kiss on Ryder’s cheek, she walked away, leaving the vampires alone. Reining in the anger that had brought forth the demon, Ryder said, “It’s been over a year now. Don’t you think it’s time you forgot about Esperanza?”
“You can never forget a true love, but actually, this is about someone else.”
“Someone else? This warrants something stronger than wine, I believe.” Ryder motioned to a waiter. “A bottle of Cuervo and glasses, please.”
The bartender obliged. He placed a shaker of salt and a small bowl of limes next to the tequila.
Ryder poured full shots of the liquor, then grabbed his glass. Heedless of the salt and lime, he held it up and said, “To women.”
Diego shook his head. “Never again, amigo.”
“But you said—”
“Woman trouble. As in major mistake never going to happen in my eternal life if I can help it.” With that said, he slugged back a full shot. He quickly refilled the glass, prompting a chuckle from his friend.
“This is serious. I’ve never known you to have more than one.”
With a careless shrug, Diego took his time with the second drink, sipping the tequila slowly. He winced at the sharp taste of it, so much less pleasing than either a glass of wine or a nice nip from the neck of someone willing.
Like that attractive young woman eyeing him from the end of the bar. She was barely thirty, with long chestnut-colored hair and dark eyes much like—
No. He hated that his thoughts had strayed back to Ramona. After Esperanza’s death, he had assumed he would spend the rest of his eternal life sans partner. That Ramona kept intruding into his psyche troubled him deeply.
“So tell me, Diego. Who’s the unlucky vamp who’s displeased you so?”
In the vampire hierarchy in Manhattan, Diego’s age and corresponding power put him high on the pecking order. Those who angered him could be handled without encountering much opposition from the other vampires in the city. Not that Diego took advantage of such rank. If anything, the other vampires considered him a human wannabe because he normally refused to benefit from his powers and his undead state.
As for Ramona, she knew nothing of his eternal life. Nothing other than the face he presented to the mortal world—that he was a well-off dilettante who had rather successfully dabbled in the art world. He imagined that like most humans, Ramona would not be able to deal with his true self.
“Diego?” Ryder prompted at his delay in answering.
“She’s not a vampire. She’s a mortal.”
Ryder shook his head as if to clear it. “Did I hear you right? A mortal? Like Diana?”
Diego thought about Ryder’s mortal lover, only Ramona was nothing like Diana. With a shake of his head, he teased, “Amigo, there isn’t anyone quite like your lover.”
Ryder looked toward Diana, who was busy talking to someone at the edge of the bar. He tarried in refilling the shot glass before bolting back another slug of tequila.
“Is everything okay with you?” Diego asked, sensing his friend’s suddenly troubled state.
With a shrug, Ryder said, “Diana has been tired lately.”
Diego sensed that it went beyond tiredness, but if that was what his friend wished to call it, he wouldn’t worry him more. “I’m sure she’s been working long hours on some case.”
“I guess desk duty can be difficult.”
Desk duty would be the death of someone like Ryder’s very empowered lover, he thought. “They still haven’t released her?”
“No. The review board suspension hasn’t been lifted. But enough of that. Who is this mortal woman who has you so twisted up?” Ryder asked, starting to refill their glasses for a third time. Diego waved him off. “I’m afraid I may need something more satisfying, mi amigo.” Something that would remind him of what he was and why someone like Ramona Escobar was thoroughly wrong for him.
“I’d go with you, but…”
Surprised, Diego shot a puzzled glance at his friend. Ryder only occasionally indulged his vampire needs, usually at times of extreme stress, when releasing the beast within helped restore balance.
It also helped restore the reality of their situation—that they were no longer human. That playing at being so and acquiring human desires and attachments could only bring eternal pain.
Slipping from the stool, Diego clapped his friend on the back. “Comprendo, amigo. However, a willing neck waits for me at the Blood Bank.”
Chapter 3
Diego slipped payment to the vampire guarding the back rooms and walked past him with the young girl in tow. She was medium height, with short red hair and a plain face, but her body made up for it. The black leather she wore exposed womanly curves and alabaster skin. She was much like Esperanza, who beneath her servant’s clothes had been blessed with a voluptuousness that he’d lovingly cherished for five hundred years.
He opened the door to the first room, one of a series that Foley, the owner of the Blood Bank, kept for those who wanted some unusual enjoyment. As Diego entered, he noted the chains, whips and other accoutrements on the far wall.
When the young woman saw them, she let out a squeal of delight and rushed over, selecting a small whip, which she snapped with relish.
The noise unnerved him, and in a blast of vamp speed, he raced forward and ripped the whip from her grasp.
She glanced up at his face, her head tilted at what she probably thought was an engaging angle, but which only served to expose the pale skin of her neck and the pulse that beat there.
“What’s the matter? Afraid of a little pain?” she asked coyly.
Diego laid a finger on that pulse point and met her gaze. “You know nothing of real pain,” he said, his tone soft but threatening.
“Really? But I know one thing.” She leaned closer and reached down to stroke him through the fabric of his pants.
“Yes, you do know.” He sucked in a breath as she undid the zipper, slipped her hand inside and beneath his briefs to wrap her soft palm around his rock-hard erection.
“You like?” she asked, and at his nod, she dropped to her knees, freed him from his pants and took him into her mouth.
Dios, Diego thought, enjoying how she satisfied him with her gifted mouth and tongue, while wondering at the same time why modern women debased themselves so quickly in this fashion. In his day, only the street whores would go at a man like this, without prelude or passion.
But that thought didn’t stop him from holding her head to him until he felt his climax rise to the edge, and with it, the beast who needed satisfaction of another kind.
Shaking his head, he drove the demon back, wishing to at least pleasure the woman before he allowed his own release and indulged the vampire with a different kind of fulfillment.
Urging her to her feet, he undressed her slowly, revealing each luscious curve. He paused to caress her generous breasts, which filled his hands, and the large, rosy peaks of her nipples. She moaned as he sucked at them, but with a little love bite, he moved lower down her body until he was the supplicant before her, peeling away her leather pants to reveal the nest of auburn curls between her thighs.
She