Chapter 16: Let Me Show You Around
"I knew you were back. Secret mission accomplished?"
Derek nods at Mark, who lounges at the door of the room where Derek is going through the various weapons and other items used to combat the Renegades. It's two nights after they had the talk with Thatcher, and Meredith announced she wanted to learn to fight. So, he is back in his penthouse, to prepare a course of action for her, to teach her the basic skills she will need to be at his side.
"Accomplished to a point," he admits. "However, it has become slightly more than just a onetime assignment."
Mark raises one eyebrow, unable to pick up any of Derek's thoughts. "You're still shielding…"
Derek takes aim at one of the practice dummies across the room, letting the silver dagger fly with precision. It pierced directly into the heart outlined on the front of the dummy. Mark whistles in appreciation, before striding across the room to join Derek. "Has the old man still got you bound to silence then?"
With a shrug, Derek debates what to tell his old friend. "Not really." He retrieves the dagger and returns to where Mark is waiting. Polishing the blade slowly, as he speaks. "Mark, have you ever heard the legends about vampires being able to have children?"
"Of course – everyone has. Born vampires are not too common, but I suppose it's possible." He looks at Derek. "Is that what this was about? Thatcher has a child somewhere…by god, that's amazing…"
Derek nods. "A daughter. She is half mortal, to turn fully vampire on her birthday. I was sent to protect her from Michelangelo and bring her here. She had no idea of her true destiny until recently." He outlines the situation briefly, letting down his shields, so that Mark can grasp what he is talking about.
"I see, and is this mortal woman accepting of this situation?" Mark taps his fingers against the intricate handle of Derek's sword, the same one used in a match with the King of England.
"Absolutely. She is with him now, learning the history of the coven, and what will be expected of her in the future. She is truly amazing." A smile plays along his mouth as Derek speaks.
"Aha…there is more to this story than just the fact she is the daughter of our leader, Derek." Mark's voice is amused. "And she's beautiful too…I can understand why you would be taken with her."
"It's more than that, Mark," Derek confides slowly. "We've blood bonded…"
Mark can only stare at Derek for a moment. "Seriously, Derek…out of all the vampires in our coven, you are the one I never expected to mate again. You've always been the lone wolf – she must be special, indeed."
Derek throws the sword over to Mark, and they begin to parry and thrust, testing each other's strength. "She's strong…and intelligent…" he says, moving around Mark with easy elegance. "…and she's mine, so don't you get any kind of ideas about her…"
With a grunt, Mark charges forward. "She's your…bloodmate…" Swords clash again, and he whirls away, wiping sweat from his eyes. "…I respect that…"
"Good…" With a devilish grin, Derek manages to knock Mark's sword out of his hand, forcing Mark to his knees. "Just so we're clear on that…"
From behind them comes the delighted sound of feminine laughter, and Derek turns and is surprised to see Meredith there. "Is this how the boys play?" she asks, "and can I play too?" Dressed in a supple black leather skirt, and a figure-hugging cashmere sweater, her long blond hair loose down her back, she looks already more polished than a few weeks ago. Derek had been so deep into the swordplay with Mark he hadn't even picked up her arrival, and he whirls around in surprise.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, coming to take her hand, and kiss her cheek. "I thought you and Thatcher were busy tonight."
Meredith reaches up to smooth away a strand of his hair, enveloped in his scent. Sweat is damp on his chest, the fine linen shirt sticking to him from the exertion of sparring with Mark. "He had to go out, and he had the chauffeur bring me here. You don't mind, do you?" Her teeth worry her bottom lip, as she meets his eyes.
"Never. I meant to bring you here soon enough anyway, so this is a pleasant surprise." Derek slides his arm around her waist, leading her to where Mark is now standing, holding the sword lightly in his hand. "I want you to meet someone."
"Mark Sloan, at your service," Mark grins, taking her small hand and kissing her fingers. "I must say, this is an honor, meeting Thatcher's daughter…I didn't realize the old man had it in him. And the woman who has captured Derek's heart as well. I've known Derek for many centuries now, and he could use a female's touch around here…."
"It does look very masculine," Meredith smiles, her eyes taking in the large room. "Is this where you will be training me?"
Mark's eyes meet Derek's in surprise, before sliding back at Meredith. "You will be fighting?"
Meredith nods firmly. "Yes…that my mother died at the hands of these creatures is enough to make me want to learn to defend myself. I know Michelangelo is my uncle, but how can he be so cruel? He scared me to the bone." She shudders lightly, thinking of being so helpless. "I would be dead if Derek hadn't found me."
Derek squeezes her hand. "We'll teach you everything you need to know. But some of it may need to wait until after your birthday – your strength will increase then, something that is necessary to hold the swords. But the daggers and the other items are light enough."
Mark eyes her petite frame warily, though he doesn't give away his doubts that she can do this. He has seen his share of female vampires, who could fend off two or three Renegades, but none of them had her slender form.
"Don't let her size fool you, Sloan," Derek laughs, interpreting Mark's look. "She has inner strength, and I'm sure she will be able to take care of herself."
Mark throws his hands up. "Point taken. I should know not to underestimate any female. My age is showing." He grins engagingly, and Meredith is caught for a moment in the easy masculine charm he exudes. He is more muscular than Derek, his eyes twinkling with laughter, his mobile mouth framed by the neat moustache and goatee. Dressed casually in dark pants, and a charcoal sweater that outlines his defined chest, he has the same sensual appeal as Derek. But despite this, Meredith feels untouched by it. She is more acutely aware of Derek's strong presence next to her, and she leans a little closer to him, so that their bodies touch. A little thrill of desire ripples through her.
"I understand," she tells Mark, "I think my father was a little surprised as well." She glances up at Derek, caught up in the warm desire in his eyes. "But I think I will have a good teacher..."
"You're a very apt pupil," Derek murmurs, thinking more of the time spent in bed with her. Gold flickers at the edges of his iris, as he catches her own erotic thoughts.
Mark shakes his head in amusement. "All right, time for me to leave. I can see I'm not needed around here, so I'll go find some willing female company of my own."
"I don't mean to chase you away," Meredith protests, flushing a little at being so obvious in her desires.
"Yes, we do," Derek teases. "I want to show you the rest of my home, love."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Meredith. You are well mated with Derek, I can see that," Mark grins. "Good luck with the training. Be sure and let me know if I can be of any assistance." With a salute, he is gone, in a swirl of cool air, leaving them alone.
"That is still a bit unnerving," Meredith giggles, turning in Derek's arms. He trails soft kisses along her cheek, then finding her lips. His tongue invades briefly, dancing along hers, as she winds her arms around his neck. His hands cup her ass, bringing her closer, as the heat simmers between them again.
"Come, let me show you around," Derek finally tells her softly, framing her face with his hands. Taking her hand, he leads her into the spacious living room, enjoying the look of delight on her face as she sees the expanse of windows, and the tasteful furnishings. Several antiques from his original manor are mixed in with eclectic modern art. Soft light gleams on the grand piano, and rich Oriental rugs soften the cool expanse of floor. Her heels tap along the exposed parquet, as she goes to stand to take in the view. Derek comes up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and holding her against him.
"It's beautiful, all of it," she sighs, "I still can't believe I'm actually here sometimes. It's still so unbelievable."
"Are you having any doubts?" he asks, breathing in her scent, lavender mingling with female arousal. His hands move higher, gliding beneath the sweater, grazing her ribcage. Meredith sucks in her breath, her nipples hardening, as his fingers stroke the delicate satin of her bra. Her head falls back against his chest, his mouth at her throat, and small throaty sounds of desire make him even harder against her.
Breathing heavily, Derek spins her around to face him again. "This is where I'm meant to be," she replies softly. "Especially with you. I almost wish my birthday was here already - I want to experience everything." Her mouth touches his again, and her slick tongue invades, sliding over his fangs, before meeting his tongue, forcing a purely masculine sound of pleasure from him in response.
"Is the next stop on the tour the bedroom?" she breathes, her body on fire for him.
"I think that can be arranged," Derek murmurs, "though I really wanted to show you other areas of interest..."
Meredith playfully trails her hand along his abdomen, coming to rest against the hard ridge of his cock straining against his pants. "Really...but this has my full interest at the moment..."
That is all it takes for him to sweep her up into his arms and take her directly into the bedroom. With a wave of his hand, soft music begins to play, and the candles along the mantel flare into life. For a moment, they face each other, barely touching, and then his mouth finds hers in the dim light. Just his mouth, and his presence, moving over her, igniting even more heat in her core. Whispering little words of erotic promise, until her senses are filled with only him.
He tangles his hands in her hair then, kissing her mouth harder, bruising it from the intensity, teeth pulling at her lip. With one hand, he gathers up her skirt, giving him access to the satiny skin underneath. With his other hand, he pulls her sweater away from the skirt and slides underneath to unsnap her bra. His palm cups her breast, and she pushes against his hand with a little whimper. She sighs in his mouth, and he deepens the kiss, hungry for more.
At the same time, Meredith pulls at the buckle of his belt with anxious fingers. She wants him to take her over the edge, she wants his mouth all over her, and she wants his heat. Impatiently, she pushes his shirt out of the way, the need driving her, consuming her. "Take these off," Meredith whispers against his mouth, tugging at the zipper, before letting him take over. She falls back onto the cool sheets, tossing aside her own clothing, to wait for him.
With a sensual smile, Derek obeys her command, standing naked before her, fully aroused and ready for her. Her body shakes as he lowers himself to the bed, crawling over her leisurely. He kisses her slowly, down her throat, and along her breasts, her shoulders, and the inside of her wrists. Slowly exploring as if for the first time, to her hips and the curve of her waist, her belly and then her thighs. "God, Derek, don't stop…" she begs him, her voice low. She arches up into his mouth, willing him to touch her everywhere.
Derek's only response is to bury his mouth into her wetness, his tongue searching and licking at her clit, delving into her as he grips her hips and brings her up closer to him. Meredith bucks against him as molten heat floods through her body, and she rocks with wave after wave of luscious little climaxes. He inhales her warm scent, enjoying the way he can make her squirm and spasm around him. Slowly, he pulled away from her, stroking the quivering flesh with his tongue, and then tracing a line back up to her chest, and then to her mouth. Her skin is warm, and salty from the fine sheen of sweat that covers her, tiny quivers still running through her.
"You make me a little crazy," Meredith sighs. "I want you so much right now..."
"Take me then," Derek urges, rolling onto his back, taking her hand. Her fingers splay across his chest, and she rises up over him, moving her damp cleft along his length, sliding up and down teasingly. Just enough to make him grit his teeth, at the sensation of not quite sheathing him in her warmth. "For god's sake, Meredith, you're going to kill me..."
"I just want to make you scream..." she whispers, leaning over him, her small teeth nibbling his earlobe.
Derek growls low in his throat as she tortures him further, each rise and fall of her over him taking him closer to the edge. Her breasts tempt him, his hands finding the warm skin, his fangs aching to draw blood.
Aching to taste her.
Soft little cries of her own pleasure fill the air, and the sound sends heat sliding down his spine to settle in his groin, to settle in his balls. Meredith bends down to kiss him, her hair in a wild tangle around them. He pushes his fingers into her hair, and he falls into the fever of making love to her. So hot, so wild, her mouth melting against him, as they pulse together. The heat in their bodies spreads, becoming more intense, pushing him on, up into her. The rhythm is mesmerizing - sweet hot sex all the way, harder and faster, until she arches away from him again, crying out, and everything in him releases, every ounce pouring into her as she contracts around him in waves. Then he does nearly howl in utter satisfaction as they give themselves over to the pleasure, letting it drag them both into ecstasy.
Derek wraps his arms around her, as they recover, pressing gentle kisses along her forehead, until their hearts stop the mad pounding and they can breath normally again. His hand strokes the damp skin of her belly, and she shifts to look up at him. "Derek...is it possible...would there be a chance..."
"For you to become pregnant?" he finishes with a smile, knowing where her thoughts are going. "It's not outside the realm of possibility now that we have bonded - perhaps we need to be more careful, though I think our bond is too new yet." He catches her hand and kisses her fingers.
"Would you be happy?" she asks him. "To be a father again, after all this time?" Thinking of his sadness over the loss of his son all those years ago.
"Even the possibility amazes me, Meredith. Until Thatcher confided in me, I had no real idea it would be possible for one of my kind. Our kind," he corrects himself with a quirk of his eyebrow, and a flash of his fangs.
Meredith moves so she is propped against the pillows, and her eyes spot a small, leather bound book on the nightstand. Derek senses her curiosity, and with a smile, he hands it to her. "This was Kiera's. I have several of her books, along with some other items from my ancestral home."
"May I?" Meredith asks softly, eager to discover something more about this woman she feels a kinship with. The leather binding is slightly frayed, and the color has faded to dull ocher. Derek nods, pulling her into his embrace, and she settles back, opening the cover carefully. The parchment pages are thin and delicate, and she fingers the faint inscription on the inside.
"It was one of her favorite books of sonnets, by some of the poets of the time, including Sir Thomas Wyatt, the poor fool who fancied himself in love with Anne Boleyn. Nearly got himself beheaded over her," Derek recalls. "I brought the book out of storage after Thatcher mentioned you and showed me your picture. It dredged up many memories of Kiera. I planned on giving it to you, actually."
Meredith closes her eyes, feeling almost dizzy for a moment, inhaling the musty smell of the leather, losing herself for a moment.
The snap of the fire is comforting, as she snuggles into the fur-lined blanket. Wind howls around the casement windows, and fat snowflakes hurtle through the dark night. "Come, read to me, Derek," she says, beckoning him closer, from where he tends the fire. "Did I thank you properly for this book? It was a lovely birthday gift." Smiling radiantly, feeling content and drowsy, the soft swell of her belly, round with the baby, beneath her other hand.
"You did thank me, Kiera, but I will shamelessly accept any further gestures of gratitude," Derek murmurs, joining her on the bed. "I knew how much you admire Wyatt's writing."
"Poor man, I fear for his life, however. Everyone at court can see he is besotted with Lady Anne," she sighs, curling into Derek's embrace.
"Queen Anne soon enough," Derek reminds her, taking the book from where it lays on the coverlet. "Now, close your eyes…." His rich, melodious voice lulls her to sleep, before he is barely into the first few lines.
If amour's faith, an heart unfeigned,
A sweet languor, a great lovely desire,
If honest will kindled in gentle fire...
With a little gasp, Meredith opens her eyes, and turns to look at Derek. "Oh god, Derek…I saw her…and you. Reading this…and I felt the fire, and heard the wind…It was like I was there, and yet...like watching a movie." Her eyes flick to the large panes of glass across from the bed, seeing no snowflakes, just the calm starry sky.
Derek touches her cheek gently. "I felt it too. We need to speak with Thatcher tomorrow night..." he starts to say, when a loud crash reverberates out in the main foyer. Instinctively, he bolts upright, shielding Meredith with his body, his senses sharpened.
Derek...you need to get out of here...
Mark?
It's Michelangelo...he's close...
The thoughts are chaotic, before the bedroom door bursts open and Mark storms inside, blood spattering his upper body, his shirt ripped. "Get out now..." he shouts, as Derek springs up to his feet. "I've held him off, but he's close behind me..." They can hear the sounds of breaking wood, and Meredith scrambles out of bed, dressing with shaking fingers. She clutches the small book in her hands, her heart pounding in fear, as Derek grabs her free hand, pulling her along behind him. He has dressed swiftly in his leather gear, his sword ready, it's scabbard strapped across his back.
"Mark...follow us...don't try to fight him. We'll take the passage..." Derek yells, as Mark disposes of two Renegades that crashed through the door. Chill air invades like a whisper, signaling the evil approaching.
"Right behind you!" Mark replies, grinning wickedly at the sight of the disintegrating creatures. "Damn, I love a good fight..." He tosses two of the silver tipped stars, taking more of them out, before whirling and following Derek and Meredith into the hidden passageway, and disappearing from sight.