Thanks to Marie-Claude, my smut cheerleader.
* * *
"I'm afraid it's a vampire bite. And I think it's mine."
Silence.
The room was soundless. Except for the breathing and heartbeat
of one person. Randy realized that, if he did breathe, he would
have been holding his breath for her reaction. He could only
imagine ferocity of response suitable for a vampire hunter being
told she had been bitten, scarred by a vampire. By her partner
no less. And that was just the base mechanics of it all.
When minutes passed, and she did not speak, Randy prodded,
"Joan?"
Another half minute passed until she spoke.
"It's okay," she said softly. "No, really," she asserted, off
his disbelieving expression. "I don't remember when it happened,
but I FEEL it's okay. Like there was a reason for it. An
important reason. Life, death, love. Something big.
Something
good."
Randy sighed in relief. Now for the more sticky part of the
revelation. He grimaced at the bad mental pun. He flipped
through the book again, avoiding the lurid illustrations, finding
instead the text he hoped would give his explanation some form.
"It's fairly obvious, from yours and your sister's relationship
with my father and from the way we fight together that we know
and trust each other." Joan nodded her agreement. "And
while I
cannot be sure, from what I've seen, and read, and *felt*, all
the signs point to a, um, special relationship between you and
me. It'sâ?¦ umâ?¦"
Randy could feel himself floundering. The topic was so very
-intimate-. He decided to change his tack. He took a seat
from
around the table and motioned for Joan to join him. "It's
complicated. And it will take a while to explain. Come
sit."
Joan looked at him, at the book in his hand. "Gee, Randy, you
want me to sit on your lap so you can tell me a bedtime story?"
She made a face. "Why did that sound WAY more innocent in my
head?"
She was grinning as she crossed the room to where he sat. He
quirked an eyebrow at her as she ignored the other chair and
settled onto his lap.
"What?" Buffy said. "No being prude-y English guy here.
If
you've been chewing on my neck, I think my sitting on your lap is
not so terribly shocking," she concluded in a mock-English
accent.
"Right then." Randy give her a warm smile. He placed the
book
on the table, finding the page they needed to read. He took a
moment to inhale the fragrance of her skin, her hair. Not so
ironically, the shoulder he was peering over was the scarred
one. The sight of the mark gave him the impetus to continue.
He
began to read aloud, softly.
***Of all the vampiric behaviours, Mating is perhaps the least
well known, yet probably the most intriguing. Amongst vampires,
a mate is usually chosen from amongst most favoured childer, or,
in the case of Inter-Order alliances, from the childer of another
Master Vampire.***
***The rarest form of Mating occurs between a vampire and a
human. Vampires who chose human mates often turn their mates
after a time, especially when confronted with the advancing years
of said mate, or a challenge for power within the Order.***
"Randy?" Joan's voice was soft as she looked up from the book.
He as much felt the vibration as he heard the sound. "Do you
think, maybe... You're a Master Vampire, aren't you?" Her face
turned slightly to him; he could feel the softness of her breath
against his own lips. She leaned back slightly against his
chest, gaining a better view of his face.
"I... I don't know, Joan. I can't be certain." The only
thing
he was certain of was that the more he examined his feelings for
the girl on his lap, the more he knew she belonged to him.
"I think you are. I don't think you could be anything else," she
stated quietly, equal parts pride and something else in her
voice. Something like... Either way, her assurance warmed him.
He forged ahead, reading from the book.
***Mating between a vampire and a human is facilitated by an
exchange of blood, but on a smaller scale than that which creates
childer. The exchange usually occurs in conjunction with vaginal
intercourse in the case of a male/female mating, sodomy in--***
"Hell!" Randy said, loudly, making Joan startle on his lap.
"T.M.I."
Joan giggled, and settled back against him. He shook his head
then looked down at the book. Skimming, he found another
relevant passage.
***Most often in Mating, bloodletting is from the jugular vein,
as Mating Marks are meant to be visible, as a sign of protection
and possession. The vampire pierces the skin as in a customary
bite, usually at the point of sexual climax. However, upon
removal of the fangs, the skin is purposely torn, as to create a
distinctive scar.***
Randy kept his voice steady, but could not keep from wincing.
His free hand slipped to Joan's throat, brushing against the
scar, making soothing motions, as if the motions of his hand now
could erase the pain he knew must have accompanied the marking.
Beneath his fingers, he could feel the accelerated pulse, and the
light sheen of perspiration that had begun to coat Joan's skin.
"Warm, pet?" he asked, noting her flushed cheeks.
"Just keep reading," Joan commanded Randy softly, wriggling
slightly, leaning in to the touch of his hand.
***The amount of blood required for a human mate to take in the
exchange is minimal, not usually requiring the vampire to score a
vein. A particularly ardent kiss will often rend a vampire's
lips against his own fangs, providing sufficient blood for
Mating. Once blood is exchange, the vampire and the mate often
sequester themselves for several days, the mate meeting all of
the vampire's sexual and nutritional requirements.***
Joan's hand had risen, her fingers brushing across her own lips
in time to his stroke against her scar. "Vampire honeymoon?"
she
whispered.
"So it seems." Randy's hand continued to stroke the mark on her
neck as he read to himself, summarizing for Joan. "It says,
after Mating, the vampire and his mate are virtually
inseparable. They do everything together. They need to
be
together. Need to, to stay- close-"
Randy's already soft voice trailed off at the end of the
sentence. In the electric silence, he leaned forward to place
his lips on the soft, flawless skin just over the scar. Joan
made a tiny, keening noise at the contact of his cool lips on her
heated skin; a kiss placed so close yet not -on- the sensitive
mark.
"So you're saying- um..." Joan's voice was breathy, strained,
her breathing shallow. "You and I- we, um-"
Randy felt Joan's blood singing beneath his lips. He placed an
open-mouthed kiss where neck joined shoulder, and then let his
tongue dip into the hollow above her collarbone.
"Yes," he murmured against the skin of her shoulder. "We. Made.
Love. " He punctuated his words with a series of hard, nipping
kisses along the tendon of her neck. "You gave me your blood-
and I gave you my mark."
Joan pressed her lips together, but a whimper escaped her
nonetheless.
Randy hissed in pleasure against her throat when he felt her
press herself harder into his lap. Joan's fingertips left her
own lips, moving to thread themselves in his hair, press his
mouth harder against her skin. Something inside Randy
whispered. 'Feel this. This is what you are meant for.
What
she is meant for.' He felt the change begin to come over his
features. His fangs itched for the soft flesh, the sweet blood
beneath his lips.
"Randy-" she breathed. "Please."