Reggie’s Reasons by Lisa Oliver

Chapter Three

Reggie jumped at the sound of a voice calling his name. He was sure his boss, Martin, had already left. Turning slowly, to see who wanted him, he was vaguely aware of the glasses slipping from his fingers and crashing on the floor. “You?” He swallowed the sudden influx of drool in his mouth. “It has to be you. You sent me the cards?”

“Every year on your birthday since you were fifteen.” The huge man took a step forward. “It’s been a long ten years.”

“How did you… who… when… you’ve got wings.” Reggie could hardly breathe, let alone form a coherent sentence. The man, but it wasn’t a man, there were black wings, so he had to be a demon, but whatever he was, the newcomer was every damn thing Reggie dreamed about at night. Taller than him by a good four inches, which had to make him six foot eight, shoulders broad enough to carry the world, and muscled legs clad in black leather. Reggie swallowed again, tilting his head slightly to meet dark eyes.

“I have wings because I’m a demon. I’m also your fated mate, your beloved. Can’t you tell?”

The demon looked a little hurt, and Reggie rushed to explain. “Vampires can’t tell who their beloved is until they’ve tasted that person’s blood.” He looked down, scuffing his boot through the broken glass at his feet. “You pass the drool factor though, which is step one in knowing one’s mate.”

“The drool factor?” The demon grinned, showing off pearly white, perfectly straight teeth. He took another step closer. “Is that modern speak for you think I’m sexy and you’re attracted to me?”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Reggie looked up. “I mean look at you.” He waved his hand, indicating the demon’s height and build. “You’re built like a rock star.”

“You’ve certainly filled out from when I first saw you the first time, too.” Reggie blushed as the demon’s stare seem to burn through his clothes. “Perhaps I should introduce myself? I’m Dirkin, one of Balthazar’s princes, leader of ten legions, and your beloved.” He held out his hand, and as Reggie went to take it, glass crunched under his boot.

They both looked down. “I should probably clean that up,” Reggie said, his cheeks flaming even if it wouldn’t show. “One of the cleaning crew could cut themselves on it.”

“Allow me.” Dirkin clicked his fingers and the glass disappeared, leaving a light patch on the floor as though it’d been magically cleaned. “Speaking of cutting though. Shall we get the formalities out of the way?” Reggie watched as Dirkin slashed his left wrist with newly formed claws. The scent of blood hit the air and Reggie’s fangs dropped.

“This has never happened to me before.” Of course, the words came out slightly garbled, and there was a hint of a lisp in there as well. Who knew it was so difficult to speak with dropped fangs? “I’ve never… bags. I take blood bags.”

“I’ll be your first from the source.” Dirkin seemed delighted. “Take it. I’m offering and I need you to know what I’ve known for ten long years.”

The thick wrist was held out, droplets of blood welling up and creating trails over pale skin. Reggie wanted to say his feet froze to the floor, or he at least pulled back, but this was his first time in so many ways and his belly fluttered with anxious excitement.

He’d never seen anyone cut before. Because of his genetics, Reggie’s non-vampire friends and the people he worked with covered themselves immediately if they got cut. It was considered a respectful thing to do when vampires were around. So Dirkin’s actions were a first for him and Reggie was mesmerized. The way the blood oozed over the skin – thick, warm, such a sensual color. Reggie’s feet moved him forward, despite his brain’s urging for him to stay still.

“Go on.” The wrist moved closer to his face. “I promise you won’t be disappointed.” There was no fear on Dirkin’s face, nothing but a smile full of teeth and heated eyes. “I want you to taste me.”

That verbal assurance was all he needed. A ten-foot concrete wall couldn’t stop Reggie now. Not when the scent of Dirkin’s blood teased his nostrils like nothing had before. His tongue twitched, already anticipating how the life-giving liquid would feel on his taste buds. His fangs ached as though knowing how they would feel to be plunged into flesh instead of plastic.

But still Reggie forced himself to keep some semblance of control. He was an adult now. He would not tear into freely given skin like a newly awakened teenager. The air seemed to thicken around them as he got closer, and yet Dirkin didn’t move a muscle. Reggie reached out, fingers meeting hot skin, so different to his own. Tracing Dirkin’s wrist, Reggie swallowed as he half turned and pulled Dirkin’s arm towards his lips.

His tongue out, Reggie caught a tantalizing drip of blood edging its way around Dirkin’s arm. He moaned, the flavor hitting his taste buds and bringing his senses alive. Instinct took over; he plunged his fangs into Dirkin’s open cut and swallowed frantically. Everything. Nothing. Reggie didn’t have words, and he couldn’t use them anyway because his mouth was full. It was as if he’d spent twenty-five years living in a gray world, and suddenly there was color. Reggie’s grip had tightened, his cock was hard to the point of pain, and he wanted nothing more than to rip Dirkin’s leather pants to shreds and claim him.

That realization stilled Reggie’s frantic sucking. I’m an adult. He carefully pulled free his fangs and licked over the whole area until not a drop remained. “You’re my beloved. Every cell in my body is telling me so,” he whispered, looking up, seeing the heat of Dirkin’s eyes. “Why did you wait so long to come to me if you knew who I was?”

“I knew you were mine the day you went through your awakening,” Dirkin said softly, and Reggie leaned into the thick finger tracing his jaw. “Unfortunately, I got a little pushy about my claim, and your coven leader Bevan banished me to the shadows for ten years. I honestly would have been with you sooner if I could have been.”

“Bevan kept us apart?” Reggie gasped as though someone had punched his chest. “But how, why? He doesn’t have any magic. He wouldn’t do that to me. He would have said something. I thought he cared about me.”

Tears pricked his eyes and Reggie blinked them back rapidly. He would not cry like a child even though he felt as though his heart was breaking. Bevan had been his coven leader – Reggie had idolized the man for years. He was the closest thing to a father Reggie had – and he kept my beloved from me. Soft leather enclosed him, and Reggie realized it was Dirkin’s wings, giving him privacy, even though they were the only two in the room. That last gentle gesture sent his tears over the edge.