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  SACRED CIRCLE

  An Ellora’s Cave Publication, April 2005

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

  1337 Commerce Drive, #13

  Stow, OH 44224

  ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0125-7

  Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):

  Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML

  SACRED CIRCLE Copyright © 2005 CLAIRE THOMPSON

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Edited by Mary Moran.

  Cover art by Christine Clavel.

  Warning:

  The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. Sacred Circle

  has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).

  S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.

  E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature.

  X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

  Sacred Circle

  Claire Thompson

  To my editor and friend, Mary Moran, who gives me inspiration, gentle guidance and honest criticism.

  Chapter One

  He’d sensed something, a presence, but now it was gone. There was another like him among the throng. Julian looked quickly around the large hall, taking in the crowds of people, most dressed in black, talking and laughing in groups or clustered around the bar. He’d “crashed” the party, after seeing the signs in the lobby for the Vampire Coven Ball—By Invitation Only. These events occasionally amused him, and it had been easy to slip by the two hulking fellows at the door, diligently checking people’s invitations before allowing access to the grand ballroom of this fine, old Garden District hotel.

  Julian hadn’t been to New Orleans in longer than he could recall. He had almost forgotten the lush, hothouse atmosphere of the city in summertime. New Orleans barely seemed like it belonged in the States—reminding him more of a European town, except for the interminable muggy heat! Why did anyone build a city here at all, below sea level in a malarial swamp infested with snakes and alligators?

  He well remembered those early days, when the adventurous and the criminal converged in their efforts to control the Mississippi River and to trade on it. At first, the town grew topsy-turvy. By 1840, it was the fourth biggest city in the States. In its humid, fever-ridden isolation, it was also by some margin the most exotic. With its mix of Creole, Cajun, Caribbean, African, Irish, Italian, German, Jewish and everyone else Julian could think of, it had mutated into something unique in the world.

  And so it remained today, in a new millennium. The sparkling new buildings and showcase museums couldn’t alter the basic sultry character so unique to the Big Easy. Julian still preferred wandering the cobblestone streets of the French Quarter, which harkened back to his own roots in France, so long ago.

  Julian stood tall, easily six-foot. This was nothing remarkable in this day and age, but when Julian had been born, over three hundred years ago, such height was rare. His hair was black, falling in soft waves, curling just below his ears. His face was long and sensitively shaped, the cheekbones prominent, the chin strong. His eyes were large and dark against his pale skin, and fringed with thick lashes that made him seem innocent.

  Julian was far from innocent. Nor was he young. Unlike the players and pretenders at this party, Julian was, in fact, the real thing. There weren’t so many left in the world today—perhaps only ten thousand.

  Despite the popular belief that vampires are immortal, in fact they do die, as do all things on this earth. Though it is true, the aging process is dramatically slowed once a vampire reaches maturity. Julian, at the chronological age of three hundred and twelve, looked like a man of perhaps thirty years.

  He had been “turned” by a vampire those many years ago, when he was only twenty years old. He would never forget Adrienne. Technically speaking she wasn’t his first lover—he’d had several quick tumbles in the hay with willing girls who knew as little as he of the ways of the flesh. But Adrienne was the first one to involve his heart and mind. She had been older than he, how much older he had had no idea at the time, thinking her simply a worldly lady from Paris, come to his father’s lands in the Provinces.

  La Comtesse Adrienne de Pierre Rouchard, despite her lofty title and incredible wealth, appeared as a young woman, perhaps only in her late twenties. Julian’s father Andre, widowed many years before, was known to receive the occasional nobility at his extensive vineyards in the Champagne region. His fine wines were sought after all over France and beyond, their restrained richness created from a perfect blend of the best grapes. Though he himself was not of noble lineage, Andre was educated, sophisticated and always ready with an abundant table and wine cellar when his guests came to call.

  La Comtesse, having met Andre Gaston in Paris, accepted his gracious invitation to visit his estate, arriving with a small entourage one spring evening, prepared to stay for several days.

  Julian recalled the first time he’d set eyes upon her. Her hair had been darkest black, elaborately arranged on her head in the style of the day, with little gleaming jewels artfully braided through it. Her skin was pale, but not sallow. There was a peculiar, almost luminous quality to her skin, a quality he would later come to recognize as a mark of a vampire, and a quality he would come to share. Her lips were painted a ruby red, exactly the shade of the jewels in her hair.

  When she laughed, and she laughed often, Julian noted her small, white, even teeth. He noted the little canines, which seemed slightly longer than the other teeth, but not so much that one would think much about it. Her eyes were dark, and though small, seemed to sparkle with some kind of secret, especially when she turned them upon young Julian.

  He had been placed next to her on the first evening that she dined with the family. The long dining table was lavishly set and almost sagging with food, fine china and bottles of Andre’s hearty wines and delicate champagnes. Clustered around the long oval table, in addition to Julian and to his father seated grandly at the head of the table, were Julian’s six brothers and sisters, a maiden aunt and several important luminaries from the nearby village who wouldn’t have missed viewing La Comtesse for the world.

  Adrienne had chatted gaily with the men, offering her opinions on every subject. Julian’s sisters and aunts, who had been taught from an early age to keep their thoughts and opinions to themselves unless specifically asked, listened with widening eyes as the learned woman gave her views on everything from the quality of the grape harvest that year to the politics of the day, and even the French monarchy. Andre and the other men seemed enchanted, and as many bottles of fine wine were consumed, began to loudly toast her, their glasses clinking, their laughter loud, their faces red.

  Yet, it was Julian to whom Adrienne continual
ly turned, quietly asking his opinion on any number of subjects, and seeming fascinated as he tried to stammer out his responses. Ah, Adrienne—she was a master at making a young man feel bold and wise. Julian recalled his own feelings of pride and confidence as she bolstered him with assurances and unfailing interest in his no doubt stupid comments.

  Her hand slipped softly to his hard-muscled thigh and Julian started, feeling heat creep up his cheeks. She did not meet his eye, yet there was no question that she knew her hand was where it didn’t belong. Her long slender fingers moved slowly up his leg, causing the young man to blush. He hid his confusion and arousal with a long drink of his wine. She stopped just short of his cock, which was now fully erect and straining painfully against his breaches.

  Julian recalled his own embarrassment on that long ago evening, mixed with a raging desire. How he longed for those perfect fingers to touch his cock, and yet he knew if she had touched him there, he would have ejaculated on the spot, in front of his entire family and died a thousand deaths of humiliation. Adrienne, though, knew just how far to tease, and she withdrew her hand, still never having met his eye, still holding a lively discourse.

  Finally, the festivities wound down, and Adrienne excused herself, pleading exhaustion. Julian was also tired, though still wildly aroused by the countess’ secret attentions. Alone in his room as he stripped off his clothing, his cock again rose of its own accord, the image of her white, ample breasts pressed alluringly together in the front of his thoughts, the imprint of her soft hand still hot upon his thigh.

  “Julian.” He’d heard a whisper at his door, which was opened a crack. At first, he thought it was his little sister Louise.

  Already in his bed and completely naked, Julian responded, “Go away. I’m sleeping.” His own hand gripped his large cock—ready to take what pleasure he could there in the dark.

  He heard a soft, low chuckle and realized with a start this was not his sister. The door opened, and Adrienne slipped in silently. She was dressed in white lace, her breasts now free of their boned corset and heavily stayed bodice. Her hair was loose, streaming past her shoulders like a dark waterfall. Against the backdrop of a setting moon, she looked like nothing so much as an angel, fallen from the heavens.

  Julian gasped. He’d never had a woman in his rooms, never dared. “Comtesse!” he said, dumbfounded.

  “Julian, please call me Adrienne.” She moved swiftly toward him, speaking in a low, seductive voice. “Don’t worry, my love. No one saw me come in. I can be very discreet when I so choose. I have a gift that way.” She smiled enigmatically.

  Julian was conflicted. His father would not be pleased to find a woman in Julian’s chambers, and he suspected Andre would be especially possessive of this particular woman. Julian started to protest, “My father—”

  “Is sleeping soundly, I assure you.” Adrienne was at his bedside now, kneeling next to him. Something in her tone calmed Julian. He wanted to believe that it was safe to have her here, but even if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t have cared. She was too beautiful, and his good fortune seemed boundless now that she was in the room. Let him pay the price later. He must have her.

  Ah, and what a price he’d paid. Would he have had it any other way, knowing now that she was going to end his mortal life that night? When she had seduced him, he’d found an ecstasy he had never dreamed of, as her long pale fingers unlocked the sensual secrets of lovemaking for him.

  She’d dropped the lacey garments, revealing her rounded, supple body in its perfection. Her breasts were full and lush, the tips glistening in the moonlight. She actually lifted them with her hands, offering herself to Julian. He didn’t need a second invitation, but fell upon her, sucking like a greedy babe.

  She laughed, a low sensuous sound, but Julian could barely hear her over the roaring of his own blood. When she climbed over him, just the touch of her satin thighs against his bare penis sent an explosion of pleasure coursing through him, and he spurted his seed against her. “Such a boy,” she crooned, laughing still. Julian blushed, ashamed of his overeager body, but Adrienne only shook her head, smiling and laid a finger on his lips.

  “Hush, then, my love. To me, this is only a testament of your desire. A high compliment indeed, from such a strong and beautiful lover.” Even his premature ejaculation had been made to seem like something sexy and powerful. Julian felt his blood burn hot as her cool fingers took his member, massaging him skillfully so that within moments he was again erect.

  Perhaps it was his own shame at having behaved like a boy or his own natural dominant impulses, which had so far only been tested with his farm-girl lovers. Whatever the reason, Julian felt his passion rising on a tide of vengeful lust. Who was this woman, who came to his bed unbidden and had her way with him? He was a man and she a mere woman! Flipping her easily off him, he loomed up, his strong, young form hard and taut over her supple, impossible perfection. He stared down at her alabaster beauty, at the full, rounded breasts with pale-tipped nipples jutting toward him like an offering, at the smooth curve of her rounded belly. Adrienne laid still, her mouth hiding a barely suppressed smile that only egged Julian on. Roughly his lips met hers, tearing a kiss from her as he pulled her body up to his, feeling her firm, large breasts mash against his chest. Desire seared through him like a flame.

  Adrienne responded to his kiss, her tongue seeking his as she murmured and moaned against his mouth. He let her go, dropping her back down to the bed as he rose over her again, prepared this time to take her like a man. But something in her face, in her fingers reaching up to smooth his cheek gave him pause. Somehow, she silently commanded him to lie back and he obeyed, barely aware of what was happening, only that he must have her.

  Keeping her eyes upon his, Adrienne lifted herself over him and lowered her body until he felt the wet heat of her sex against the tip of his cock. He moaned, and she leaned over, her dark hair dragging across his chest. She opened her mouth, and he opened his, expecting a kiss. Her perfect little teeth suddenly seemed pointed, at least the two canines, but surely it was a trick of the moonlight. Slowly she bent to kiss him, her tongue teasing. She bit down, gently at first, then harder, against his full lower lip. He felt a prick of pain and tasted his own blood. Just as quickly, the pain was eased as she suckled gently against his mouth.

  Julian moaned with pleasure as Adrienne lowered herself completely onto his penis, her strong hands pressing against his bare chest for balance. She sat up straight—her head back so that her white throat gleamed in the silvery light. Julian licked his lips, his tongue nursing the spot that had been punctured. As Adrienne leaned forward, Julian saw her parted lips, the little sharp teeth white against them. She smiled lazily at him, and there was power in that smile as she ground her hips against his pelvis. Julian realized he couldn’t take his eyes from hers, even if he’d wanted to.

  Had he been horrified or at least surprised when he’d realized she had bitten his lip, and then sucked the blood while she rode his cock? He couldn’t remember now. All he could recall was that he himself felt blind and dumb with lust. She could have done anything to him, as long as she kept her tight delicious cunt wrapped around his hard cock.

  She had spread her legs, pulling him into her hot, tight center. At the moment of climax, he again felt the stinging prick of her kiss, this time at his throat though it barely registered as his pleasure exploded into her.

  As his orgasm receded, he became aware that the woman was still locked in a peculiar embrace at his neck. Now he felt the pain, sharp as needles against his throat, as she sucked greedily at his life’s blood. His heart pounded as he gasped for air. He felt the pulse where she sucked gently throbbing in rhythm to her tugging mouth.

  Julian tried to pull away from her, but she was powerful—far more so than he, though he himself was strong and at the peak of manhood.

  Don’t struggle, she whispered in his head. Surrender to me, beautiful boy. Her mouth remained locked onto his pulse, her face obscured. But he had hea
rd her words, as clearly as if she had spoken aloud. She continued, her voice like a clear bell inside his head. I have chosen you, Julian. You are to become one with me now. I am taking your life, but I will return it to you, a thousand-fold. Surrender. Give yourself to me. You will never regret it.

  He had no choice. He was ensconced in her embrace, his beating heart thrumming between them. The beating slowed, and slowed again, until his eyes fluttered shut and he felt as if he were leaving his body. He was being lifted, held in her warm, safe embrace. He found that his penis was again erect, and that she was gently easing it back into the hot sweetness of her sex.

  Yes, she whispered in his fevered brain, her mouth still suckling at his weakened pulse. Finally, she released his neck, and his head fell back. He was in a swoon, a kind of trance, only dimly aware of what was happening. He tried to ask her, to speak, but his lips wouldn’t comply, his mind wouldn’t obey.

  Adrienne cradled her lover with one hand, pulling him deeper into herself. With her other hand, she unscrewed the little cap of a very small two-handled glass bottle that she wore at her throat on a golden chain. Its lip was sharp, and she drew it now across her wrist, expertly opening a vein hidden beneath her pale, firm skin. Slowly, her eyes locked on Julian, she licked the cut.

  Julian was dimly aware that she’d cut herself, that she was going to bleed to death. But instead of a gush of blood, little droplets beaded up in neat little rows, like a perfect offering. As the sweet, red puddle of bright blood bubbled up against her white flesh, she lifted her wrist to Julian’s parted lips, daubing them with the sweet nectar. Julian’s eyes opened wide as the blood trickled into his mouth.

  It was only later that he learned of the properties of vampire saliva. The special ingredients which act as coagulants and anticoagulants, controlling the flow of blood until the vampire has taken his fill, then instantly sealing the wound. Thus could she offer herself in a way dangerous to humans, but safe when managed by a skilled vampire such as Adrienne.