Armored Hearts Read online

  “… Commit war crimes?” Rand demanded, losing his temper. “Violate the interplanetary treaty Godsson himself signed? Because that’s exactly what the attempted rape of an enemy combatant is, lieutenant.”

  “But…”

  “But nothing. I took an oath to uphold the Treaty of Vermillion when I became a mercenary, and I will not permit those under my command to violate it because somebody had a fucking boner. Is that clear?”

  Godshammer flinched just slightly from the rage on his face, though the man obviously tried to suppress his reaction.

  When he said nothing, Rand looked from the lieutenant’s face to his accomplices. “I will review your combat comps’ recordings of this incident, from the moment you first detected her until I pulled you off. You’ll be informed of my decision.” He swept another acid glare over them. “Dismissed. Finish securing this base. And if you find any other enemy combatants, notify me.”

  At that, all the men saluted, lowered their faceplates, and scattered, armored boots thumping as they hurried off.

  Rand turned toward his new captive and took her elbow, steering her gently toward a nearby shelter. “In here. I’d like to have a word.” He had to get her somewhere private. It wouldn’t do to lambaste his men for trying to rape her, only to let them see him taking her blood. Never mind he could smell her desperation, which was every bit as great as his own. They knew nothing about the relationship between bloodsub and vampire dominant, wouldn’t understand the difference between a blood exchange and rape. Still, he needed her. Had to have her.

  If she lets me.

  Chapter Two

  Zara found herself impressed by the enemy vampire’s iron will. If anything, he had to be in worse shape than she was. That was saying something, because every cell in her body was howling its need for release, for the lushly erotic sensation of fangs sinking into her throat, drawing off the brutal pressure that had been building behind her eyes for weeks.

  Never mind that he was her enemy, never mind that she didn’t even know his name. Their bodies recognized each other on a level that went beyond politics or war or anything but raw sexual craving. Each could fulfill the other’s hungers. That was all their bodies knew. All they needed to know.

  She followed him into the temp shelter he’d seemed to pick at random. It was wrecked and empty, clothes, e-flimsies and furniture scattered wildly, a mark of her fellow soldiers’ desperation as they’d fled. They’d been too badly outnumbered, in too poor a position, to do anything else. Falaran High Command had given the order to retreat, and they’d obeyed.

  Zara had volunteered to do her bit to delay the enemy, knowing what she was letting herself in for. It wasn’t as if she could have kept up with the desperate retreat anyway. Lieutenant Colonel Kassir had initially refused to allow her self-sacrifice, until Zara reminded the woman she was dead regardless. The last of the Falaran vampires had died in the Battle of the Sar Caverns five weeks before. Without a vamp to help her subdue her rampaging immune system, she’d be dead within the week. If her life was lost anyway, she wanted to die saving Falaran lives.

  It had evidently worked; most of the others seemed to have escaped. She hoped.

  “I am in need,” the vampire captain told her, his voice a dark, seductive rumble. Startled, Zara met his golden eyes. They seemed to blaze in the dim light. “May I take you?” he asked.

  She laughed, the sound a little wild as she hunched her chilled shoulders. The fever had to be getting pretty high. “You remind me of a courtly wolf, asking the lamb’s permission to eat her.”

  “Sometimes even a wolf needs the veneer of civility.” He moved closer until his broad, armored body loomed over her like a wall.

  Zara studied him carefully, suddenly aware of just how alone they were -- and how much stronger he was. Yet nothing had forced him to come to her rescue. Hell, he could have easily gone to the head of the rapist line. “It’s more than a veneer, I think,” she said. And maybe if I give him what he needs, he’ll give me what I need. Better not ask him yet, though. What if he says no? I’ll wait until he’s done -- and hopefully in a better mood. Decision made, she smiled slightly. “Yes, Captain. Yes, you can have what you need.” Have it, not take it.

  He studied her, his gaze intent, intimate. “What if I need more than your blood?”

  Zara licked her lips, suddenly aware again of how very male he was. How handsome, how tempting. She shouldn’t, she knew she shouldn’t. Yes, for both vampires and their V.S.S., drinking blood was a deeply intimate act. In fact, interstellar vamps like the captain often had dominant/submissive relationships with those who fed them. Things were a little different on Falara because she and other volunteers had allowed themselves to be infected in order to better defend their people from invaders.

  But she still needed him. “You can have that, too,” Zara said hoarsely.

  The vampire smiled and took off his helmet, then put it down on the bunk. As she watched in growing tension, he took his armored gauntlets off. He dropped them beside the helmet with a soft, heavy thump. She controlled her instinctive flinch when his hands came up to cup her jaw, his skin cool against her feverish flesh. “Thank you,” he said, his voice deep, sensual. “Thank you for your blood.” Leaning down, he took her mouth tenderly. “Your trust.” His lips soft, he kissed her, suckling her mouth, tasting her lips. “Your body.”

  He deepened the kiss, suckling, nibbling gently before his tongue swept in to possess her mouth, swirling and licking. Her knees weakened, and she sank into him, his armor hard and chill against her body. She wished suddenly, violently, that she could touch him.

  When he finally drew away again, he gazed so deeply into her eyes, it seemed he saw clear to her soul. He stepped back and took her shoulders, then turned her gently until her back was to him. She realized his air of desperate restraint was gone. Now he seemed to be spinning out the moment before taking her, savoring the erotic anticipation.

  She felt her nipples pebble against the material of the one piece unisuit one of his men had found for her.

  Smoothly, his hands moved up her arms to the closure of the uni, unsealed it, and pulled it off her shoulders to hang from the crook of her arms, leaving her breasts naked under his eyes. “You will not regret your generosity, lieutenant.”

  His long, strong fingers flicked delicately at the hard tips of her nipples, then gently pinched and pulled, sending a jolt of pleasure up her over sensitized nerves. “My name,” he said in her ear, “is Captain Nick Rand.” Big hands cupped her breasts, pulling her back against him.

  He lowered his head until she could feel his breath blowing along her pulse. “And I promise you, captor or not, I will not take anything you don’t choose to give. Ever.”

  A sudden, hot pain made her spine arch as he sank his teeth into her throat. He growled in pleasure and gathered her closer, pinching her nipples with sweet, wicked skill.

  Zara gasped as he released one aching breast and brushed his free hand down the front of the uni to find her bare cunt in the unbuttoned opening. Long fingers stroked between her lips. She’d begun creaming the moment she saw him, and now she was richly wet. A thick tapered forefinger slid easily into her core as he pinched and squeezed the hard tip of one breast with the other hand. His mouth moved over her flesh, feasting from her throat. He rolled his armored hips against her ass. She wished she could feel the length of his cock against her back, knew it would feel hard and demanding.

  Closing her eyes, she sagged against him, surrendering herself utterly to the vampire’s appetite. This is only the beginning. Her body leaped at the thought, hot with need and lust. Once he’s had my blood, he’ll want to fuck me next. Godsson’s zealots being the jealous assholes they are, he probably hasn’t had access to a woman in months.

  She shouldn’t do this. He was the enemy, and she shouldn’t sleep with him, no matter how much she wanted to. It was wrong.

  But oh, sweet God, how she wanted to. The thought of sleeping with him despite e
very dictate of common sense maddened her with its sheer kinky recklessness. Gasping, she rolled her butt back against him hard, imagining the bulk of his cock driving inside her.

  Whimpering, Zara felt the pleasure unspool through her like hot satin ribbons. His fingers pinched her nipple even harder, as a second finger joined the one plundering her juicy cunt. He drew hard on her throat, drinking her blood as his fingers pumped, his thumb flicking over her clit. Each skillful strum over her button intensified the pleasure until she writhed against his armored chest, pumping her hips, gasping, whimpering.

  With a scream that blended pain, delight and erotic surrender, Zara came in the arms of her vampire enemy, barely aware of his rumble of predatory delight as he fed.

  The last juicy throb faded, and she went limp in his arms, sagging, weak kneed. “Oooh, my God,” she moaned. “That was so good.”

  He rumbled back at her, a hum that sounded more than a little satisfied. And very male.

  When he was through, he drew his fangs carefully from her throat. Pressed a surprisingly tender kiss to the point of her jaw. “I feel a little strange asking this, under the circumstances, but what’s your name?”

  She grinned, enjoying the delicious post-orgasm glow. “Lieutenant Zara Tahir. Vampire Support Specialist.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant Tahir.” He pulled away slightly. Turning her head, Zara watched as he lifted his wrist and raked his fangs over the skin until blood dripped. Then, to her blank astonishment, he put the sliced wrist in front of her mouth. “Drink, Zara.”

  She half turned in his arms, staring up at him with wide eyes. He was actually going to give her his blood?

  “I know you need it,” he said softly. “I can feel the heat of fever rolling off your skin. You’re bloodsick. That’s why you didn’t kick the collective asses of those fucking rapists.”

  “Not rapists,” she said hoarsely. “They didn’t rape me.”

  “Because I stopped them.”

  She licked her lips, smelling the intoxicating scent of his blood. “Yes. You did.”

  “Drink, Lieutenant.” His tone made it a dominant’s order.

  She bent her head to his bleeding wrist. Sealed her lips over it. The taste flooded her mouth, rich and coppery, but with a hot pepper edge that was more than human. She swallowed, once, twice. Started to lift her head.

  “More,” he said softly. “You’re sick enough to need it.”

  And so she swallowed again and yet again. Swallowed at his murmured urging until heat rushed through her with a dizzying intoxication. When she finished, she felt stronger, as if his blood was already bringing her immune system under control, restoring her body to her previous power, speed and agility.

  Her previous life.

  “Thank you,” she said softly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  The vampire met her gaze frankly. “We need each other.”

  “Yes,” she said steadily, “We do. But you could have taken me by force.”

  His gaze cooled. “No, actually, I couldn’t. And I won’t.”

  That sounded like a vow. Zara wondered if he’d keep it.

  * * *

  With her blood rushing through him, Rand felt normal for the first time in days. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to savor the sensual pleasure of being at full strength -- or enjoy the bloodsub as he so badly wanted to do. “I’m taking you back to our base, so you need to pack,” he told her, “and you need to do it fast. We don’t have much time before we’re scheduled to blow this camp.”

  The Lieutenant swore softly, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she led the way out of the shelter, Rand at her heels, trying not to watch her distracting ass roll under the uni with every long stride.

  They moved through the camp, Zara obviously taking the shortest route she could, as if she was worried the G.A.E. was about to start dropping bombs on her head. Meanwhile the men bustled around them, searching the base for abandoned equipment and weapons. Many of those they passed carried armloads of gear as they headed back to the transports.

  Zara ducked into one of the shelters at last, Rand at her heels. It was a hell of a lot neater than the tents he’d searched earlier, with none of that sense of desperate soldiers trying to grab what they could.

  “Who were you trying to buy time for?”

  “No one.” She bent to open the storage locker at the foot of her bunk.

  Rand brought up his pulse rifle. “Step away from there, please.” It would be too damned easy for her to grab a pistol from the locker.

  She glanced up and froze, eyes widening as she saw the weapon. Lifting her hands slowly, the lieutenant took a long step back. “You said to pack. That’s what I was doing.”

  He gave her a deliberately easy smile. “Just making sure we don’t have any misunderstandings.” Like you shooting me in the head. “Unlock it, please.”

  Her gaze didn’t leave his face, but the locker clicked open, as if obeying an order from her computer implant. “Your men took my rifle when they stripped me.”

  Rand reached down and flipped open the locker. He didn’t see any obvious weapons, just neat stacks of uniforms, underwear, a spare pair of boots, and packages of emergency rations. He removed each pile and put everything on the bunk, his computer implant scanning for explosives and hidden weapons.

  It would be a shame to end up dead because he underestimated her. And that would be so easy to do, particularly given those deliciously distracting tits, her big, earnest green eyes and the taste of that sweet blood.

  Yeah, distracting.

  But neither Rand nor his computer found a damn thing. Satisfied, he stepped back, and pointed the barrel of his rifle in a deliberately aggressive gesture designed to remind her that screwing with a vampire wasn’t a good idea. “Go ahead.”

  Expressionless, Zara picked up her pack and started slipping the neatly folded clothes into it, working quickly, but without any sense of panic.

  “So,” he asked again, hoping for a more honest answer, “who were you trying to buy time for?”

  The lieutenant slanted him a look. Her long, graceful hands didn’t pause in their work. “As I said, nobody. I just figured I wouldn’t be able to keep up, and I didn’t want to delay the retreat. I was pretty bloodsick.”

  “You didn’t have transportation?” A camp like this should have had a dozen troop transports.

  “We’d lost some of our vehicles during the Battle of Sar. We couldn’t fly everyone out at once.” She shrugged. “As sick as I was, I didn’t think I had that much more time anyway. If I was going to die, I wanted it to do some good.”

  Rand eyed her lovely profile under its tumble of shinning blond hair. “Either way, you did make a pretty good distraction. You had to know the bastards would line up for a shot at you.” Silkily he added, “Have you always wanted to be a martyr?”

  She shot him a look that glittered with dislike. “I didn’t plan to be taken alive.”

  “Obviously, you miscalculated.”

  Zara shrugged, her mouth tight.

  He spotted a cube-shaped image projector sitting atop a rickety bedside table. The device was evidently voice activated, because it was cycling, projecting three-dimensional images of Zara’s family and friends into the air. There were several of a teenaged Zara with an older couple standing in front of a waterfall, probably during some long ago vacation. She had her father’s stubborn jaw and her mother’s expressive eyes.

  Zara went right on packing, pointedly ignoring him and his rifle. The projector started on more recent images: Zara with a handsome blonde man, both in the light skintight Falaran armor of the type worn by vampire teams. In one shot, the blond stared at her, smiling, his expression besotted. She looked back at him, wearing the kind of warm smile you gave a good friend.

  “That your vampire partner?”

  She glanced up, saw what he was looking at. Grief drew hard on her features before her expression froze and she returned her attention to her packing. “Yes. He was kil
led saving my life. Deliberately stepped between me and a pulse blast that would have blown off the back of my skull.”

  And she feels damned guilty about it. Guilty enough to martyr herself by distracting a G.A.E. team bent on rape. The thought sent a wave of protective rage through him all over again. “You were lovers?”

  Zara shrugged, not looking at him. “He was my partner. My vampire.” Grief darted through the green depths of those lovely eyes. “My friend.”

  Given the man’s besotted smile, Rand would bet his captain’s bars the vamp had wanted to be more than her “friend.” Which probably also factored into the suicidal guilt.

  Still, there must have been a sexual dimension to the relationship. They’d been a vampire team, after all. Sex came with the territory.

  Yet the couple evidently hadn’t had the kind of intense chemistry that led to passion. Rand was willing to bet he knew what was missing.

  She slung the pack onto her shoulder and turned to look at him. Which was his cue to test his theory.

  Rand reached into one of the pouches on his belt and pulled out a set of neurocuffs. “Hands on top of your head, please.”

  And there was the proof he was looking for -- that startled blink, the flood of sensual awareness in her eyes. She swallowed and obeyed, a betraying tremor in her hands before she rested them on her head.

  Rand stepped around behind her and clipped one bracelet on her right wrist, then pulled her arm down. She lowered the other arm for him without being told so he could cuff that one too.

  He smiled darkly. Oh, you are a submissive, aren’t you? And I’ll bet your vampire wasn’t a dominant. Which wasn’t surprising. The Falaran Coalition’s vampire program hadn’t featured the elements of submission and dominance typical in galactic circles.

  But Rand definitely was a dominant. And he was beginning to suspect he’d finally found the bloodsub of his cold and lonely dreams.

  * * *

  Zara froze as the vampire cuffed her. Both arms went numb as the field the restraints generated blocked signals from her nerves, paralyzing them at the shoulder. Unlike old-fashioned handcuffs, there was no chain connecting the slender metal bracelets. None was needed. Once you were cuffed, you couldn’t do a damned thing, though your captors could arrange your arms like a doll’s. Even a mechsuited trooper couldn’t break such cuffs, assuming you could get a pair on him to begin with.