Samson's Lovely Mortal

TEN

Samson remembered the last betrayal all too vividly, a memory he’d banned from his mind. But now it all came back to him in every torrid detail …

Samson closed the entrance door quietly behind him and listened to any noise from upstairs. He heard the faint sound of Ilona’s voice and the trickling of water. She was taking a bath.

For the hundredth time this evening, he’d opened the little box he held in his hand and stared at the enormous diamond ring tucked into the green-velvet cushion. The stunning setting held a three-carat, brilliant round diamond of the highest clarity. The jeweler had assured him it was the best diamond money could buy.

His heart beating as loud as a drum in his ears, Samson moved up the stairs, careful to avoid those steps he knew creaked. He wanted to surprise her. She thought he’d be out on business for the night.

He silently opened the door to his bedroom. Ilona’s clothes were carelessly strewn on the bed.

“So he thinks. Uh huh.” She was on the phone, probably talking to a girlfriend. “Wait until we’re blood-bonded—things will change.” Ilona paused. Had she already guessed that he wanted to propose to her? He felt disappointed, deflated. He quietly approached the bathroom door which was ajar.

“And if I have to suck his dick one more time, I’m going to puke!”

Samson stopped cold at the words tearing through him. He couldn’t have heard right.

“Sure, that’s easy for you to say. You like sucking cock!”

Samson inhaled sharply. He felt as if an ice-cold hand clamped around his heart and squeezed tightly. He fought for air.

“I don’t care who sucks his dick when we’re blood-bonded, but it sure ain’t me. I can’t stand his hands all over me …”

Samson leaned against the wall when he felt nausea overwhelm him. It lasted but a second.

“You know what you have to do once I have access to all his assets.” His money. It was all she was after. That’s why she was with him: only for his money. Samson felt as if he had been punched in the stomach.

He heard her let out a frustrated huff. “You know as well as I do that once I’m blood-bonded with Samson, I have to be careful about guarding my mind. He’ll be able to read my thoughts. I can’t be caught thinking about this anymore, do you understand? That’s why you have to do it …Yes, that part about blood-bonding sucks. Why would anybody want to be able to constantly be in the other person’s head?”

Samson had heard enough. More than enough. With murderous intent, he flung the door open and walked into the bathroom, his steps slow yet determined. Ilona jerked her head around and instantly dropped the phone into the water.

“Samson,” she purred and pasted a fake smile on her face—a smile he’d seen a thousand times on her. Only now he recognized it for what it was. Acting. She’d been acting all along. Pretending to be in love with him, when all she wanted was access to his wealth.

With two steps he was by the bathtub. His hand gripped her neck of its own volition. She clawed at him instantly. Water spilled over the rim of the tub onto the marble floor.

“You heartless tramp. I should kill you, right here, right now.”

By her throat, he lifted her out of the water as she struggled against his iron grip. No matter. He was stronger, and his fury added to his strength.

Samson glanced at her naked body. His own body showed no reaction to her sensual curves anymore. No hard-on. No desire to touch her. Nothing.

He recognized the flash of fear in her eyes before his own hand opened and dropped her unceremoniously back into the tub. The water splashed around them.

“Get out! I would never blood-bond with someone like you. You’re trash, you’re nothing. You’re lucky you’re still alive. But don’t count on it staying that way. If you cross my path again, you might find yourself with a stake through the heart.”

She’d used him. All she wanted was to blood-bond with him so she’d have a right to what was his. All his wealth, all his power. How could he have been so blind?

After he threw her out of his house and out of his life that night, he’d shut down. He didn’t want anybody close to him. He knew it had been a mistake to trust her.

That was when all his problems had started. First his appetite for sex had decreased, and then, when he thought he should indulge in carnal pleasures to distract himself, he was unable to perform. He was unable to get an erection.

Until …

Until Delilah entered his life. And now? Had she betrayed him too? Was she after his wealth too? The thought made him feel ill.

“You don’t look well.” Amaury entered the kitchen behind Ricky.

Leaning against the counter, Samson gave him what even he himself knew was a tortured look. “How do you expect me to feel?”

“She can’t have gotten under your skin like this, not in one night.”

Samson heard disbelief in Amaury’s voice. He ignored his friend’s remark. “We need to get to the bottom of this, fast.”

“I can run a background check on her, see who she really is,” Ricky offered.

Samson nodded. “Do that. Amaury, talk to Carl, and find out what else he’s noticed amongst her stuff that might be odd. He’s been to the place she stayed at, and if it’s true what she claims, that she’s from New York, the condo probably doesn’t belong to her. Find out who it belongs to. Then check with Oliver to find out what she did today. He was with her all day.”

Ricky’s cell rang, and he answered it instantly.

“Where?” He motioned to Samson and Amaury. “Okay, we’ll be there in less than half an hour.” He disconnected the call.

“That was Thomas. They’ve got the guy who attacked you and Delilah.”

Samson straightened out, relieved to have something productive to do.

“You and I’ll go. Amaury, find out about her what you can. Make it quick. Carl will help you. Ricky, we’re taking your car.”

Samson headed for the door.

“Hmh, shouldn’t you get dressed first?” Ricky wondered.

Samson looked down at himself and realized he only wore his jeans, no shoes, no shirt. “Give me a minute.”

He stalked up the stairs and entered his bedroom. Delilah had finished her shower and gotten dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt. It gave her an innocent look. He hesitated when he saw her. Only minutes earlier he had been inside her body and felt no greater joy than being swept away by her kisses, but now he was consumed with doubts. Who was she? What did she want?

“Anything the matter?” Her voice sounded shaky. Did she suspect something? Could she sense his doubts?

“Just a work emergency. I’ll have to take care of something.” Samson reached into his closet to pull out a black t-shirt. He dressed quickly while she watched him.

“I should be back in a couple of hours, so if you get hungry, you know where the kitchen is.”

He was about to storm out the bedroom, when he realized that she probably found his behavior strange. He’d been the hot lover only minutes earlier, unable to get enough of her. If he behaved with such aloofness now, Delilah would become suspicious. It was important to keep her in the belief that everything was okay, that he hadn’t caught on to her game yet.

As he approached her, he thought he detected her flinching, but couldn’t be certain. He kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Amaury and Carl will probably be around, so don’t be surprised if you see them downstairs.”

He watched for a reaction on her face which would give away that she found his abrupt departure unusual and noticed her lips curl slightly upwards. It wasn’t a smile, merely an acknowledgment she’d heard him.

“Sure, see you later.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, Delilah exhaled sharply. He’d seemed normal, maybe a little absentminded, but it sounded like the work emergency he’d mentioned was worrying him. She realized that she truly didn’t know him. She’d spend an entire night making love to him, yet she didn’t even know what he did for a living, what kind of hobbies he had or what food he liked.

Those were all things normal people discussed on a first date. Had she been crazy to spend their first date entirely in his embrace without asking him the most fundamental questions? It had been such a long time since she’d been on a date that she’d completely forgotten how to act on one. Had Samson taken advantage of that fact? Had he seen her as completely naive and figured he could just get her into bed quickly?

It still didn’t explain the incident in the shower. Oh God, the shower. She’d let him inside her without a condom. What if he wasn’t as healthy as he’d said? What if the strange thing she’d seen in his eyes was some weird disease he had? Could he infect her with something?

Then she remembered the condom that had ripped the night before. He could have already infected her with God-knows-what. She clutched her stomach as nausea hit her. Oh God, no!

Delilah felt a knot in her throat build, cutting off her air supply. Her chest heaved to compensate, and her skin felt clammy all of a sudden.

She felt so stupid that she’d let herself be lulled in by his tenderness and passion. She’d noticed how smooth he’d been in his seductions as if he had more than enough regular practice. For all she knew, he did this every week, and this week she was his intended victim. Was it wrong that she’d trusted him?

“I say, we just kill him now. Let’s not waste Samson’s time with him,” Milo barked and looked at Thomas.

His lover graced him with a displeased look. “Don’t be so blood hungry. Samson’s made it clear he wants to interrogate the bastard himself, so don’t spoil his fun.”

They stood in a large and dimly lit warehouse, both dressed in matching black leather gear. The space was packed to the rafters with containers, and the musty smell reminded of worn socks, mold, dust, and sweat. It was eerily quiet except for the faint sound of raindrops falling onto the roof.

“What are you going to do with me?” The voice came from the man they had bound onto a chair.

“Oh, shut up,” they answered in unison.

“Hey, do you wanna go and hit the clubs after this? It’s still early,” Thomas asked.

His lover shook his head. “Sorry, not tonight. I’ve got to take care of a few errands.”

“What’s so important that you can’t go out with me?”

“Work stuff,” Milo answered with a dismissive swipe of his hand. “Some of us here work for people other than Samson, so I can’t just hang out with you all night.”

“That sucks. Do you want me to get you a job with Scanguards? I could do that, you know.”

“No way. I don’t want to have to listen to everybody say the only reason I got the job is because my boyfriend put a word in for me with the big boss. Forget it. That’s just too humiliating.”

“Hey, you two,” the man interrupted.

Thomas gave him a venomous look. “Can’t you see we’re busy right now?”

“If you let me go, I can let you in on a couple of good heists that are going down.”

“Not interested.” Thomas wasn’t one to bargain, and besides, he didn’t need money.

“Do we look like we want money?” Milo jumped at the bound man and flashed his fangs. Instantly, he pulled his head back trying to get away, but was restrained by the ropes that bound him. “And if you interrupt our conversation one more time, I’ll take a bite out of you,” Milo hissed only inches from his face.

As soon as the man recoiled, his facial muscles tensing, Milo returned to Thomas.

“You know that we’ll have to wipe his memory clean of this later.”

Milo just shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever.”

Thomas put his hand on his lover’s waist and drew him closer. He lowered his voice so only Milo could hear him. “You know we haven’t spent much time together lately. How about a little something now? Samson won’t be here for another ten minutes.” A quickie would be just up his alley.

But Milo peeled himself out of his embrace. “Not right now. It stinks in here.”

“You’re blowing me off?”

“Come on, don’t start this again. I’m just not in the mood.”

Thomas looked at him, suspicion rising in his gut. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re seeing somebody else.”

“That’s bull, and you know it. I wish you’d stop with all that jealous crap.”

“Fine.” Thomas crossed his arms in front of his chest. He caught a glimpse of the thug staring at them. “What are you looking at?”

The man flinched at his violent outburst, but kept his mouth shut and looked down.

Milo had been kind of distant in the last month, and Thomas figured their relationship was coming to an end. While he was outwardly still the shyer of the two, especially around Samson and the gang, Milo had turned into more of a domineering partner, a role Thomas had traditionally always taken.

They still had sex—and plenty of it—but things were just not quite as passionate as they had been at the beginning of their relationship. Thomas wanted to prolong things, but knew instinctively that eventually their relationship would fizzle out. Nagging thoughts came to the surface again. Milo’s secrecy about what he did when they weren’t together irked him. He knew his jealousy was probably misplaced; nevertheless, he couldn’t rein it in.

Thomas had always been the jealous type. Having become a vampire hadn’t changed that. He’d realized his trait over a hundred years ago. Becoming a vampire didn’t change your character, it just amplified it. A bad man would be a bad vampire, and a good man would be a good vampire. It was as simple as that.

He didn’t regret the choice he’d made when he’d been confronted with it over a century ago, for it finally allowed him to live in an era where he didn’t have to hide his sexuality, and for that he was grateful. In the time in which he’d grown up, men whose homosexuality was discovered were flogged or even killed. Not that he didn’t enjoy a good flogging from time to time as long as it was followed by an even better fuck, but that was another matter altogether. Life was better in the twenty-first century.

He eyed his lover from the side. Milo’s features seemed delicate even though as a vampire he was nearly indestructible. There was no ounce of fat on his body, and despite his small size he was strong. And incredibly sexy. Glancing at his firm ass, Thomas’ leather pants tightened. Whenever he looked at Milo, he got horny.

“Let’s have a look at that jerk,” Samson’s voice boomed through the warehouse.

His coattails flying, Ricky by his side, Samson strode in and marched straight for the captive, planting himself squarely in front of him. The master had arrived, looking every inch the avenging dark angel he could turn into when provoked.

Samson planned on intimidating the thug. It would cut down on the time it took to get all pertinent information out of him. He rarely used torture and found that the suggestion of pain often worked better than pain itself.

“Recognize me?” he asked in a quiet but dangerous voice when he stood in front of the bound man.

A silent nod was the response. “Good. What’s your name?”

“Billy.”

“Good, Billy. Now that we’re on first name terms, let’s have a chat. I don’t take it lightly to being attacked, but, you know, that comes with the territory, and that’s something I can forgive. I can defend myself. But you know what really pisses me off?”

Samson looked at him, daring Billy to answer. The man was smart enough not to open his mouth at the rhetorical question.

“When my woman gets attacked, I have no mercy. Do you understand?” He bent down to Billy, his voice almost a growl. Frightened eyes looked at him. Billy’s body started trembling.

“You’ve put me in a difficult situation, Billy. A man has to protect those he loves no matter what. So, what am I going to do with you?” He tilted his head and flashed his fangs. Samson hadn’t bit anybody in years, but his fangs were nevertheless in pristine condition—floss and toothpaste went a long way when it came to dental hygiene for a vampire.

Billy shrieked. “I didn’t want to do it.”

This was far too easy. The man was clearly not quite the professional criminal Samson had thought him to be.

“But you did. And now you’re going to explain to me and my friends here why you were after my woman. This is a small town, but to be attacked by the same guy twice, that’s not a coincidence. We both know that.”

He let another snarl rip through his clenched jaw and moved his head closer to Billy. He could smell the scent of fear on him—a stench he abhorred.

“I was paid to do it.”

Samson straightened. “By whom?”

For a fraction of a second he wondered if Delilah had set all of it up herself. It could have been a ploy to gain his confidence, to sneak into his home and his heart. It would make sense. It would have given her a pretense to gain access to him, awaken his instinct as a protector and then seduce him thoroughly. God, she had seduced him alright, with everything she had: her voice, her body, her touch, her kisses … her laughter. He had to know the truth, as much as it would pain him to hear the answer.

“Who paid you?”

“My brother-in-law. He wanted her out of the way,” Billy suddenly blurted out.

Relief flooded through Samson. It hadn’t been her, thank God. “What’s his name?”

“John.”

Billy started shaking.

“I need a little bit more than that, if you don’t mind.”

“John Reardon.” The name had a familiar ring to it, but Samson couldn’t place it.

“And where does he live, this John Reardon?”

Billy gave an address in the Sunset district.

“Why does he want her out of the way?” Samson continued with his questioning. He noticed a sudden widening of Billy’s pupils.

“I d—d--don’t know.” Where did the stutter suddenly come from? At the same time he observed a trembling in the man’s legs which travelled up his torso.

Samson searched his eyes. “You’re lying.”

Billy shook like a leaf, then his eyes started drifting. “Stop!” he screamed. “Make it stop!” His hands balled into fists as he tried to raise them, but came up against the restraints. “No!” A second later his head rolled forward. He’d passed out.

Samson spun around to his friends. “Did any of you do that?” He’d be pissed if someone had used mind control to scare Billy before he could get all necessary information out of him.

Milo and Thomas both lifted their hands in confusion, while Ricky shook his head.

“Scan the vicinity to make sure no other vampires are here and are interfering.” Samson looked back at Thomas and Milo. “Then go out to the Sunset and pick up this John Reardon. This one stays here until we’ve got his brother-in-law. Make sure he stays here; I haven’t decided yet what to do with him. Call me when you have his brother-in-law: I want to talk to him personally.”

“I’m outta here. I’ve things to do,” Milo protested.

Samson raised an eyebrow, but let it go. Milo didn’t work for him. “Ricky, you go with Thomas. I’ll take your car back to the house.”

Ricky threw the keys in Samson’s direction, and he caught them without even looking. As soon as he was in Ricky’s car and switched on the engine, he saw Milo exit the building. His cell phone pressed to his ear, he headed for his motorcycle.