Blood Wicked Read online

  Praise for BLOOD DEEP

  “A must-read … The sex is imaginative considering the constraints Page has placed on the heroine. Fortunately the two hunky supernatural heroes are more than up to the challenge!”

  —Romantic Times

  “The power of love is at the very core of this immensely erotic and thrilling love story. The characters are intense and decidedly sexual, but at the same time their vulnerability is what makes them stand out. The ménage component of this story is exceptionally well done.”

  —Coffee Time Romance

  “Ms. Page is a great storyteller, and she always manages to draw me in from the very first page. This story had enough surprises to keep me on my toes.”

  —Just Erotic Romance Reviews

  “A New Queen of Erotic Romance”

  —Romantic Times

  Praise for BLOOD RED

  2007 National Readers’ Choice Award Winner for Erotic Romance

  “A blazing path into forbidden dreams …”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews

  “Ms. Page weaves an erotic and suspenseful tale that … puts you on a sexual roller coaster and doesn’t let you off.… If you’re a lover of vampire romance, curl up on a cold winter night with Blood Red to warm your heart!”

  —Just Erotic Romance Reviews (Gold Star Award)

  “An erotically charged tale … a wonderful action-packed story that combines suspense, intrigue, horror, bondage, and yes, a whole lot of sex.”

  —Coffee Time Romance

  Praise for BLOOD ROSE

  “Page’s Blood Rose has scorching love scenes to make you sweat and an intriguing plot to hold it all together.”

  —New York Times best-selling author Hannah Howell

  “Blood Rose is an action-packed, sexy paranormal overflowing with suspense, horror, and romance. Sharon Page is a master of the ménage—prepare to be seduced!”

  —Kathryn Smith, USA Today best-selling author

  “The female protagonist is completely believable, and the two vampire-slaying heroes … are simply hot! This is a thoroughly entertaining read.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Buffy the Vampire Slayer meets Regency England! Two sexy, to-die-for heroes, a courageous heroine, and a luscious ménage make Blood Rose a sinful treat.”

  —Jennifer Ashley, USA Today best-selling author

  “A chilling tale of vampires with loads of suspense and intrigue combined with searing erotic heat … the magic of pure sexual steam that can only mean one thing—it’s another winner from Sharon Page!”

  —Renee Bernard, USA Today best-selling author

  “Intriguing paranormal romance along the same lines of Laurell K. Hamilton’s early work … magic, mischief, and ménages.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  Praise for SIN

  2006 National Readers’ Choice Award Winner for Erotic Romance

  “How do you have an orgasm without sex? Read Sin by Sharon Page! … Thoroughly wicked, totally wild, utterly wanton, and very witty in its execution, Sin is the ultimate indulgence.”

  —Just Erotic Romance Reviews (Gold Star Award)

  “Strong, character-driven romance … extremely sensual and erotic.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews

  “Sinfully delicious. Sharon Page is a pure pleasure to read.”

  —Sunny, New York Times best-selling author of Over the Moon (anthology) and Mona Lisa Awakening

  “Sharon Page blends history, emotion, and hot, hot, hot sex within an amazing love story. Blazing erotica!”

  —Kathryn Smith, USA Today best-selling author

  “An erotic page turner that must be read only in an air conditioned room as the book is hot hot hot … Sharon Page is now on my ‘must be read’ list.”

  —Romance Junkies

  Praise for BLACK SILK

  2008 Romantic Times’ Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Historical Erotic Romance

  RT TOP PICK 4½ Stars: “This wonderful, well-written Regency has emotion, blindingly hot sex, complicated characters, and a surprise ending.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews

  “I can sum this novel up in one word: wow! … Not only were the encounters burn-your-fingers-hot but also emotional and romantic.” Gold Star Award!

  —Just Erotic Romance Reviews

  Praise for HOT SILK

  “With an interesting plot, likable characters, suspense, sexual adventure, and romance, this story satisfies.”

  —Romantic Times BOOKreviews

  “A delightfully sensual story of love … Outstanding read!”

  —Coffee Time Romance

  Books by Sharon Page

  BLOOD WICKED

  BLOOD DEEP

  BLOOD RED

  BLOOD ROSE

  BLACK SILK

  HOT SILK

  SIN

  “Midnight Man” in WILD NIGHTS

  Blood

  Wicked

  SHARON PAGE

  All copyrighted material within is

  Attributor Protected.

  APHRODISIA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2011 by Edith E. Bruce

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  All Kensington Titles, Imprints, and Distributed Lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotions, premiums, fund-raising, and educational or institutional use.

  Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington special sales manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 119 West 40th Street, New York, NY 10018, attn: Special Sales Department, Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

  Aphrodisia and the A logo Reg. U. S. Pat & TM Off.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7582-6800-6

  ISBN-10: 0-7582-6800-9

  First Kensington Trade Paperback Printing: March 2011

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  Books by Sharon Page

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter One

  Prologue

  Dartmoor, 1820

  “This is the pool, milord. The one yer brother looked in afore he vanished.”

  Heath Winthrope, Earl of Blackmoor, swung off his mount. Ahead Tom, the moorsman who had led him here, pointed down to a tiny pond, encircled by a ring of granite boulders.

  A full moon hung blue-white and plump in the sky. They stood high on the moors, alone, surrounded by quiet, dark hills of waving grass. Heath’s jaw tingled as it always did before his fangs erupted. So as he crossed over the granite stones in long strides, he kept his face turned away. No point in letting poor Tom find out what he really was.

  Heath rested one foot on a large rock and looked down at the small pool. Ripples on its surface sparkled
beneath streams of silvery light. “You claim that the reflection seen in this pool will be the next person to die.”

  Tom pulled off his cap, twisted it in his hands. “Aye, milord. That’s the legend, it is. If you look into the water you will see the face of the next person who will die. Young Mr. Winthrope was a bit foxed, milord, and determined to prove the legend to be just a myth.”

  Christ, he was going to have to take a look. Heath leaned over and frowned at the reflection he expected to see.

  It was his face. Unchanged for the last ten years. He still looked to be a man of eight-and-twenty. His face was unlined, his features sharp and cleanly cut, his silvery-green eyes bright and cocky with eternal youth.

  Tom stayed far enough back so his face would not reflect. Heath stared at the image of his unsmiling face. The magical powers of this pool were, as he suspected, nothing more than myth—

  The water to the right of his image bubbled suddenly. The turbulence stopped and a woman’s face appeared beside his in the pool. A bewitching face. Blue eyes, large yet full of intelligence and lively delight. The face was oval, the cheeks smooth and ivory. The hair was like spun gold pouring over slim shoulders.

  Through the shimmering veil of it, he could see her neck, a long, smooth column of white.

  It was like the sight of a bottle of port to a drunkard, or the scent of opium smoke to a fevered addict. His fangs burst forth.

  He could see more of her now. She was naked, possessing two perfect ivory breasts, topped with peach-pink nipples. A smooth belly. Generous hips.

  He was hard with desire and fiercely hungry for her throat.… Then he blinked. Bare breasts and a bare neck reflected beside him?

  Heath jerked around. His normally slow heartbeat became a hard pulse in his throat. Tom, lurking behind a granite boulders, looked up fearfully. Around, the Dartmoor hills stretched, empty and still. Up here, he could see for miles—right to where his estate house sprawled, surrounded by a stone wall, lichen-covered trees, and the little white dots of slumbering sheep.

  There was no nude woman behind him.

  Tom peered at him, uneasy and curious. “Whose face did you see, milord?”

  How could he see the face of a woman who was not even there?

  Right, Heath. And how can you be a vampire—cheating death and surviving by drinking blood? “I looked into a moonlit pool of water. I saw my own face, of course.”

  Tom gave a strangled grunt of dismay.

  Heath groaned. “Bloody hell, man, I am not going to die next. I can assure you of that. Your tale is nothing more than a faery story, meant to frighten and entertain.”

  Of all the men in England, he was the least likely to have a sudden and untimely death. He’d already done that bit and had escaped the final reckoning. He was now immortal. The undead. Nosferatu.

  But the woman …

  Cold unease gripped his heart. How could he be seeing her reflection? Had he actually seen someone who was going to die? Who was she? He didn’t know, so he couldn’t warn her to be careful around carriages, firearms, and unknown plants.

  Then his throat tightened. In the reflection, the woman ran her hand down his chest as she lowered to her knees in front of him. Her hands deftly released his cock from his trousers. And Heath had the astounding experience of watching from a distance while a beautiful woman sucked his cock deeply down her throat. Hell …

  The water bubbled again. This time his reflection disappeared. The woman was now reclining on a chaise, her hand draped over her curvaceous hip. There was a man standing beside her. But it wasn’t him. It was his brother Raine, who had been missing for a fortnight. His brother was gazing at the beautiful blond woman as though he loved her.

  Was he looking at the reflection of a woman who had harmed his brother? One who had also disappeared? He didn’t know who she was, so why had he seen her sucking him?

  Whoever she was, he had to find her.

  1

  London, Two weeks later

  As a mortal man, Heath had adored women’s breasts. They seemed to be a stroke of genius. Plump, bouncy, and tempting, and all the fun of playing with them pleasured the woman, too.

  As a vampire, he found them irresistible.

  For the ten years he had been Nosferatu, one of the undead, he’d been plagued with the yearning to sink his fangs into a woman’s breasts and taste her succulent blood that way.

  He’d resisted. But hell, it had been hard.

  And now, he was standing in a brothel’s salon while some foolish woman thought to tempt him by baring her generous bosom. Henna-red curls bounced around her face. She flashed a coquettish look to him beneath thick lashes, pursed her scarlet lips, then let her silk wrapper slide from her shoulders.

  He knew he should look away. The gesture would annoy her and she would move on to other prey. Half the men in the room were watching that scrap of silk as it fell from her shapely shoulders and snagged on the swell of her generous bosom. She gave him a wicked smile. Then she shimmied to make the fabric fall free. Two stunningly large breasts popped into view—full, ivory white, and topped with nipples rouged to an erotic scarlet.

  Blinking, blazing hell.

  The two vampires who sat in front of the courtesan traded lusty smiles, then bent to the two full breasts on offer. But neither men suckled the aroused nipples; each drove their teeth into the plump sides of her breasts. What they wanted was blood.

  The seductive, coppery tang of it filled the salon.

  The woman gave a sensual moan of pleasure. Her head fell back. The vampires knew how to take enough blood to give her a thrilling sexual sensation. They wouldn’t kill her. They would show her unfathomable delights by lightly drinking her blood, while stroking her nipples and her hot, wet cunny.

  Years of abstinence reared up inside Heath. His cock reared in front of him.

  No. He would not let himself give in to temptation.

  Watching two men experience his fantasy had him taut as a bowstring and ready to snap. His hand closed too tightly on the glass of brandy in his gloved hand. With a delicate ping, the glass shattered. He dropped the remnants to a table and glanced around. Where in blazes had Julian gone? He needed to get out of here.

  With her red-blond curls, this woman was not the one he was looking for.

  He had made it to the door when the madam of the place, a demoness of some sort, sashayed out of the shadows and planted her buxom body in his path. “Ah, my lord. Have you only come to feed tonight, or do you wish to indulge in other pleasures as well?”

  “Neither.” Heath cleared his throat, hiding the two weaknesses that tried to claim him. Lust and hunger. “I’ve come in search of my brother.”

  Her plucked brows drew together in a frown. “But your brother is not a vampire, is he?” The stout woman was about forty. A stomacher crushed her belly flat and pushed her enormous bosom upward in a shelf of whitened flesh. That was the specialty of this brothel. The women within possessed the largest breasts in London.

  “He is now. A mistake on my part—” He stopped. Christ, there was no need to explain his private hell to a madam. Swiftly he gave a description of Raine.

  The woman shook her head. “No, he has not been here. But you must feed, my lord. I can sense the anguish within you.” She reached out for his arm.

  And though he had immeasurable power, Heath jerked his forearm back like a frightened boy. “I do not need it,” he said curtly. “I wanted to find out about a woman. One who was involved with my brother. Blond—her hair is a dark gold. Very lovely. Blue eyes. Large ones.”

  “That could describe many of my girls. You shall have to look through them, my lord.”