Dracula's Desires: Blood Wings, #2

By Linda Mercury

Out Of The Shadows

It's a fact that vampires do not get pregnant. But Valerie Tate is definitely pregnant. Worse, six months ago, her angelic lover, Lance Soliel, abandoned her. Searching for answers, Valerie finds herself with Lance's childhood friend, John Jante, a man with whom she shares a strong bond - and an intense lust. But when John is kidnapped, Valerie's attempt to rescue him uncovers more than she bargained for.

Into the Fire

Scouring parallel realms and pocket dimensions, Valerie soon finds that Lance has regained Paradise as the Angel of the Lost, that John is hostage in a bizarre world resembling Victorian England, and most shocking of all, Valerie's first love may be within her reach once more. For the soul of Dracula's dead wife, is trapped within John's captor, a mad woman robbed of her humanity and manipulated by a conspiracy of Fallen Angels. Torn between past and present lovers, Valerie must contend with emotions that threaten to break her. In a desperate showdown, the reunited triad of a vampire, an angel, and a human, must face their deepest fears - with the future of an unborn angel-to-be in the balance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Mercury
• Release date: Jul 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781979928762

Linda Mercury

Linda Mercury ia a writer and creator of really unusual fictional worlds. More than anything, she cares about compassion, connection, and intimacy. She lives in the Pacific Northwest and has a redwood tree in her backyard.

Book preview

By

Linda Mercury

Third Edition

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Linda Mercury

Fiction by Linda Mercury:

Dracula’s Secret

Dracula’s Desires

Dracula Unleashed

Predator and Prey (short story)

Curse of the Spider Woman

The Dream Factory (with Shéa MacLeod)

The Café of Hopes and Dreams (with Shéa MacLeod)

Dream of Words (with Shéa MacLeod)

The Auntie Vamp Series

Vamping It Up

Keeping It Up

Non-Fiction

The Little Sexy Workbook

Arousal to Zipper: Writing the Best Sex of Your Life

Rejections, Bad Reviews, and Mean People

Handcuffs Teach Trust: Writing the Best BDSM of your Life

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Dracula’s Desires – Blood Wings Book 2

Dedication:

To Dr. Dad, Ph.D.

Dr. Brother, Ph.D. (+ 2 postdocs +

small business owner)

Dr. Sister, Ph.D. (+ full tenure + department head)

I love you, you irritating overachievers

Acknowledgments:

––––––––

Thank you to Cherry Adair, for her Finish the Damn Book Contest.

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––––––––

Copyright:

Linda Mercury

Cover Design:

BookCoverZone.com

All rights are reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute or transmit in any form or by any means without written permission, except in the cases of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher.

Contact Linda Mercury at:

www.LindaMercury.com

[e-mail]

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or have been used fictionally and are not construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. First published July 2012

Second Edition June 2016

Third Edition July 2022

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Hope

Emily Dickinson said

hope is a thing with feathers,

delicate, light, and small.

I think hope is a giant beast with

fangs, claws, and fur.

It crashes into your life,

mauls and

remakes you in a form

unrecognizable, never before seen.

Then, with a final brutal, ravenous bite to your mangled face,

sends you out stronger than you were.

Linda Mercury

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Linda Mercury

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Chapter One

––––––––

Right now

John Janté’s life hung by a thread.

Valerie Tate smelled his blood drifting in the air. If those idiot Fallen Angels let him die, she’d empty Hell itself in vengeance.

She gunned her black 1966 Shelby Mustang to the limit, burying the tachometer in the red. The tires howled as the car fishtailed against the gravel-laden highway cutting through the Swiss Alps. Cursing, she spun the steering wheel against the skid and roared between two honking tourist buses.

Lucifer’s wormy teeth, I spit at thee, she damned the slow-moving vehicles.

The heavily forested mountains and charming villages blurred until the view out her window seemed an unending wall of green and stone. Lake Geneva was nothing but a long blue line below her. The powerful engine propelled her through the hairpin turns faster than a vampire could run. Her smaller weapons duffel sat on the passenger seat, an innocent black bag filled with high-powered destruction.

Valerie opened her window and sniffed the mountain air. The kidnappers had a ten - minute head start, but there was the trail. John’s apple-scented blood and more damn sulphur than she’d ever wanted in her life.

If she never smelled sulphur again, she’d be a happy vampire. Her car’s powerful engine growled and devoured the Fallen Angels’ lead. The Mustang nudged the blue sedan’s ruined bumper, forcing  it  into  a  three-hundred-and-sixty-degree  spin.  She  steered Ilona, the car named after her dead wife, after the sedan, her left hand already pointing her handgun out of the window. A light pull of her

index finger and her bullets shredded the kidnappers’ tires.

The car spun into a deep ditch.

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Valerie flung open her car door. Her gravid body moved more slowly than before her pregnancy, but she was fast enough. She jumped down the hill, landing on top of the other car.

One of the three remaining Fallen Angels popped out of the broken back window, a big-ass pistol in his hand. He fired. The bullet grazed her arm.

That pissed her off. She might not be thrilled to be pregnant, but no one hurt her parasite.

You do love me! the fetus crowed. Obviously, angel blood bred true. What other being would worry if its mother loved it?

Shut it, kid. I’ve got morons to take care of.

Valerie could attack the would-be killers, disarm then, hurt then in ways not even Lucifer could imagine. She could dig her hungry fangs into their necks and feed on their immortal blood. Her claws could rip brains out of skulls. The Fallen were stupid, slow, and careless. Even as ungainly as she was now, she would completely dominate them in hand to hand, until limbs were scattered from the North Sea to the Mediterranean.

Stop wasting time, the growth inside growled. Kill him and get us out of here.

Valerie spared an approving thought  toward  her  uterus.

Perhaps this child was a Dracul as well as an angel.

Reaching into the back waistband of her pants, she drew her much more practical firearm.

Her spine tall with family pride, Valerie Tate shot one of the world’s dimmest Fallen Angels right in the head. He crumbled into dust. The other two, dazed from the introduction of their heads to the windshield, didn’t stop her.

Reaching for John in the backseat, she didn’t see the silver-winged Host of Heaven gather the Fallen and lift him skywards.

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Once upon a time...

On a wild, evil night in 1431 AD, Vlad II Dracul’s second son was born. The parents named their child Vlad, after his father. This child grew up to become one of the most famous torturers in the world: Vlad the Impaler, Vlad Tepes, best known as Dracula. The stories of his atrocities grew even greater when he refused death and became the legendary vampire.

Throughout the centuries, Vlad allied himself with leaders who promised an orderly, centralized government that would control an unruly, chaotic Europe. His goal came to the end when he died in Berlin, another dupe used by Hitler to achieve his crazed goals.

The problem with once-upon-a-time stories? They get the important things wrong.

Vlad II did not have a son. He had a daughter, one he raised as a boy in order to pretend the house had plenty of heirs.

As a youth, Vlad III was sent to the Ottomans as a hostage to ensure peace between Romania and the mighty Turks. Horrible torture became a daily event for the child, fully cementing her self-identity as a man. Many years later, close to his own death, he defied the Dark Angel in order to kill his former oppressors.

Vlad allied with leaders as varied as Napoleon and Hitler in order to create his vision of a world where women could walk the streets in safety. Blinded by his dream, he did not question himself until it was obvious that the Second World War was a lost cause for the Germans. Vlad faked his own death. Finally, she was able to live as a woman after nearly six hundred years as a man.

Desperate for redemption for her involvement in the war, she hunted Nazis, succeeding until only her brother, Radu Tepes, was left. That was when Dracula fell in love with Lance Soliel, a Fallen Angel attempting redemption, and John Janté, his Guide, and ruined her life.

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Chapter Two

Two Days Ago

The baby inside Valerie Tate’s body rolled and kicked her in the ribs. I bet John will be home soon.

Valerie coughed at the unexpected assault. He should still be at work.

’Allo! An unexpected voice called up from the street. "Bonjour, petite chou."

Valerie stretched her neck to look between the railings of the balcony.

Told ya.

Nobody likes a smarty-pants, kid, she muttered, waving at John. You are home early. Her voice careened down the front of the building.

The upstairs neighbor pounded on their floor. Be quiet! an angry Swiss accent shouted.

John’s laid-back attitude had infected her. Instead of strong-arming their neighbor into cowering, both Valerie and the baby laughed at the imperious orders.

The bakery called. They had made almond croissants just for us. Disregarding the grumpy neighbor, John shouted and brandished a white bag with all the flourish of a tango dancer.

She raised herself up from the chair, still compensating for the mass of her new breasts. John’s gaze dropped appreciatively to her changed body and then reluctantly returned to her face. Her nipples stiffened against her bikini top and her thighs clenched against the seam of her swimsuit. Since she had moved in, they had been circling each other like cats in heat. His warm eyes, his compact but sleek body,

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the way he wore scarves in that stylish French way, all jacked her libido to fang-aching levels.

How could she desire John with every cell, but yearn for Lance? Would she be betraying one love to pursue another? What if Lance returned?

Valerie couldn’t stop her hands from tracing her body from shoulders to hips even if she had cut them off. John’s expression changed from open and cheerful to blistering sensuality. His lids drooped, his nostrils flared, and his pointed tongue traced the inner curve of his lower lip.

Arousal swelled her breasts.

What would becoming lovers with John do to her?

Her wet vagina offered explicit suggestions of what John could do to her.

"May I come in, mon coeur?" John’s sensual voice shook her legs until she could barely stand.

Valerie fled back into the apartment. She wrenched open the small refrigerator and grabbed one of the pitchers of John’s blood. She didn’t get a glass; she just poured it down her throat as fast as possible. His blood was sweet, like apples and honey, as valiant and truthful as he was. The second pitcher gushed into her mouth. She finished it before John could reach the door of their apartment. She braced her arms against the hard metal of the appliance and squeezed her eyes shut.

The cold blood had driven out the hot shakes she’d had since his gaze had taken in her larger breasts. She swallowed convulsively. She still tasted him, his heat, his pure heart, his courage. His blood was spicy and delicious, a meal that would fuel her body better than anything. His soul gave her hope and succor in the dark hours, something that promised comfort, safety, and perfect trust.

"Chou? John entered the kitchen and sat down. Darling, let me into your heart."

His body heat radiated through the kitchen. Valerie pinched the bridge of her nose. You shouldn’t trust me.

I do lots of things I shouldn’t, darling. Do not fear. He held up the forgotten bag of sugary goodness. If you put out, I’ll give you your sugar.

Valerie snorted laughter against her sleeve. Clever man.

We can try, at least, John continued. Do you feel nothing for me?

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She knew herself to be brave. Six months ago, Valerie had accepted Lance’s challenge to change and she had been transformed beyond all measure. What price would this choice demand? Did she have the courage to embrace everything this love had to offer as well?

She sucked in air, giving herself a rush from the oxygen.

Screw fear.

I feel much for you, Valerie answered and held out her hand.

John clasped her offered hand and yanked her body into him. The baby bumped into him first and then his mouth landed on hers. Obviously, he would not allow her to think anymore. He had seen the play of emotions on his dangerous girl’s face.

Valerie’s teeth clicked against his as they kissed open-mouthed. He drove his fingers into her sun-hot hair. Holding her head motionless, he ran his tongue along the slick surface of her lower lip. The vampire growled, low in her throat, and grabbed his ass. They were of a height, two pale, dark-haired lovers shoving against each other.

Valerie’s hard fists gathered at the collar of his shirt and ripped it apart. The wail of the fabric was nothing to the groan John gave up when she frantically began combing through his chest hair.

In retaliation, he pulled the triangles of her bikini top to the sides, baring her breasts.

Sexy, sexy, he crooned as he pushed her small tits into cleavage. John had thought her skin would be tight and hard from her years of physical work, but she had the softest skin he had touched. The plant woman of his youth no longer rated as the softest, deadliest of his partners. This one had the potential to hurt him far worse.

Valerie’s sharp nails on his nipples jackknifed him forward until he planted his face in her chest. She jerked and scratched at his back when he licked between her breasts.

If she were this sensitive above the waist, what would happen if he licked her hidden jewel box?

Nudge by nudge, kiss by kiss, he backed her up to the edge of the kitchen table and settled her on the lip of the surface.

What are you doing? Valerie asked, her brows drawing together in confusion.

He dropped to his knees in front of her. Making you come, silly girl.

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Her head jerked back in indignation. I have never been silly in my entire life. A throaty, almost canine growl curled her lip and caused the head of his ice-hard cock to emerge from the waistband of his jeans. He pressed the heel of his hand against his penis, humming in pleasure at the constriction of his jeans.

Her eyes widened at the sight. That is mine, she claimed. In time. Grinning at her, he spread her legs. With a reverent

murmur, he buried his face in her still-covered pussy. Apparently, vampires did not lubricate like humans. Her moisture was thicker, more viscous. Here, her aroma of rosemary turned sharper, more pine-like and resinous. He swallowed and dragged the flat of his tongue along the crease of the bikini fabric that hugged her cleft.

She dug her nails into the edge of the table, cracking the finish with her nails. Her head dropped back, baring her throat. With a violent thrust, she cocked her hips, exposing even more of her vulva to him.

Taking her up on her invitation, John pushed the crotch of her bikini bottoms aside, revealing her pussy.

Like a rare orchid, her labia flared out in hot magenta petals. Adding to her exotic look, fine black hairs modestly veiled her drenched labia and extended clitoris.

Fuck.

Her hoarse whisper rolled around the kitchen as he opened her fully to his gaze.

Giving in to his urge to show off, he brushed his mouth over one side of her, the soft hair tickling his lips. Up the other side, he traveled until he reached her swollen clitoris. Puckering up, John sipped from her unfurling flower.

Valerie drummed her heels on the table. At the upstairs neighbor’s knock, she hissed and wrapped her strong thighs around his head.

Come on, come on, she chanted as she thrust her mound deeper and deeper into his eager mouth.

John kept his lips and tongue soft, resisting the urge to stab at her tender bloom. He was determined to take her higher and higher until he sank in her. As it was, she writhed under him and hissed through her teeth. A glance up her flushed body showed him her rounded abdomen, rigid nipples, and fully extended fangs.

His cock thumped against the inflexible material of his pants. God above, she was blisteringly hot. Unable to keep his hands

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motionless, he covered her breasts with his palms, squeezing and plucking her erect nipples.

Motherfucker, Valerie ground out. With an enormous gasp for oxygen, she came all over his face.

John readied his hand at her vagina, ready to take her on yet another trip.

I don’t think so, she muttered. She braced her hip and pushed, rolling on top of him. They bumped up against the kitchen counter.

How about we take this to the bed? he smiled.

Valerie stripped off her bikini as she sprinted for the bedroom. She landed on the bed, her hand cupping her mound and pressing as John toed off his socks and let his torn shirt fall. Still in his pants, he lay down next to her.

Let me kiss you again. He took her hand in his and lifted it from her vulva.

I don’t think so. Valerie yanked the