Blood Hunter (The Grandor Descendant Series) Page 2

  Feeling the plane lurch forwards, Ari let out a small hysterical laugh.

  “Ari, are you ok?” asked Ragon, looking up from his magazine so as to lean across and squeeze her thigh.

  “Yea,” she muttered, now fumbling with her seatbelt, despite the fact that a seatbelt warning light had been glowing red for the last few minutes and the plane was now racing down the run way. “Just, should have been paying more attention.”

  Ragon smiled at her, gently lifting up the metal flap of her seatbelt so as to lock it in place.

  “Haven’t flown much,” he said, still smiling knowingly at her.

  Ari cocked an eyebrow. Ragon, who was a vampire and had been watching her for the majority of her life, was bound to know that this was her first experience on a plane. She thought of reminding him of this but decided against it. Though the pair had been together for a couple of months now, it had taken Ari ages to convince him that a human and vampire could be in love, something which was unheard of in the vampire world. The fact that Ragon had not lulled Ari and made her his source was punishable by the Final Death Laws.

  “Don’t worry,” Ragon added, pulling Ari from her thoughts, “it’s all downhill from here.”

  “Unless we crash,” said Clyde, winking cheekily. “Then it’s all downhill from here, just a lot faster than normal.”

  Ari frowned; it was just like Clyde to say something like that and smile brazenly about it.

  “I seem to recall you thinking it a good idea to throw me out of a plane to test my abilities,” said Ari, smiling sarcastically at Clyde.

  “Oh please, you know that was just a con so that we could see if you could stop time,” said Clyde. “Which, might I add, worked like a charm. You’re welcome by the way.”

  Ari wasn’t like other girls; she could stop time, resist a vampires lull and see future events. It was because of these gifts that the Ancients, the most powerful vampires in the world, had murdered her parents over twenty years ago, and tried to kill her. It was also the reason why the coven was traveling to England; they hoped to find answers in her relatives. Ragon had traced most of her family line, but the rest of her ancestors details were not kept in Australia, but in the Lancaster Titles Office.

  “I’ve known Bert for years; he’s been flying my plane since I got it,” said Ragon, recapturing Ari’s attention. “So there is nothing to be worried about.”

  “Maybe Ari could freeze the plane?” Patrick suggested, while Ragon frowned at him. “I mean,” he added, seeing Ragon’s eyes roll, “in the unlikely event that the plane crashes… which it will not… at all.”

  Next to him Ryder laughed but stopped quickly.

  “Maybe she could!” he said, looking Ari up and down and then sighing audibly in relief. “I feel safer already.”

  “Yea, but if the plane stopped, then the motor wouldn’t be able to keep it up in the sky,” Thomas added, glancing away from Sandra so as to join in on the conversation.

  “I don’t know,” said Ryder, still apparently impressed with Ari. “If she froze Kiara in mid pounce, and Kiara just hung in the air like a puppet, then doesn’t that mean that Ari is defying gravity; who says she can’t keep an airplane up in the air even without the motor working?”

  Their conversation was put on hold when the plane jerked forwards and lifted from the run way. Ari was thrown back against her chair, the nose of the plane pointed towards the sky as the engine screamed below, pushing them high into the sky. Soon the steep accent finished and the plane levelled out. Next to Ari there was a clicking noise, and Bert’s voice blasted through the speakers once more.

  “Well it should be smooth sailing from here. Next stop… England. With everything going well, our anticipated time of arrival is just after 7pm on the 31st of December. Happy New Year’s Eve everyone!”

  The moment the seatbelt sign turned green, Sandra and Clyde raced to the bar. Ari watched as the pair selected a dusty bottle of some sort of whiskey, and poured themselves generous portions. Thomas, who had watched Sandra leave, now had his eyebrows raised in concern. It was no surprise that Clyde was going to will away the long journey by drowning himself in alcohol, it was however uncharacteristic of Sandra to do the same. Ever since Larissa had been killed by Kiara, Sandra had been closed off and moody, a far cry from her usual bubbly self, and Ari couldn’t help but suspect that Sandra blamed her for her best friend’s death.

  “You sure you’re ok?” whispered Ragon, seeing the worried look on Ari’s face; she nodded, just as Ragon pulled his seatbelt free and stood. “Come on,” he added, reaching for her hand, “I want to show you around.”

  Ari followed Ragon through the cabin and towards the cockpit. The jet was not enormous but cosy, comfortably fitting the coven into lush leather armchairs, which could stretch out to form pseudo-beds if desired. At the end of the cabin was a large, self-service bar, trimmed with sleek mahogany and equipped with all manner of beverages. Though it was night, the drapes over the windows were all pulled down; Ari couldn’t help but wonder if the coven had instinctually done this, almost as if they were afraid that at any moment the sun might burst in on them, blanketing the vampires in beams of deadly rays.

  “The view from up here is amazing!” said Ragon, poking his head into the cockpit, still pulling Ari with him.

  In the co-pilot’s chair was Chantelle; she smiled warmly up at them, eyeing Ragon for a little longer than Ari, as she sipped leisurely on a steaming cup of coffee. Next to her, in the pilot’s seat, was Bert. He was an older man, with a squat round face and only a thin wisp of hair covering his near bald head. There was a strong aroma of burnt coffee and cigarettes about him, but this unpleasant smell was lost to Ari by the magnificent view that stretched out in front of him. Thick black sky took up the entire window, punctuated by curling puffs of clouds, which hit the glass and dissipated around the plane. In the distance a crack of lightning temporarily highlighted the sky.

  “Wow,” said Ari, leaning over the montage of buttons in front of Bert, so as to get closer to the giant window.

  “You think this is good,” said Ragon, once again grabbing her hand, “wait till you see my next trick.”

  Only Thomas glanced up when the pair skated through the aisles towards the rear of the plane. He had been watching Sandra, his eyes narrowed as she searched manically through her bag. Though Ari only glanced at Thomas for a moment, she couldn’t miss the longing in his eyes as he watched Ari laugh while Ragon pulled her through the plane; clearly Sandra was distancing herself not just from Ari, but also from him.

  This thought however was lost to her almost immediately; Ragon had dragged her into… a bathroom? It was admittedly a lovely bathroom, not nearly as nice as the ensuite to Ari’s room at Ragon’s house in Mount Cootha, but large for a plane and very well presented. There was a white porcelain basin and toilet, and a large marble bench top, dotted with expensive looking soaps and aromatic candles. Behind these a gold leaf mirror stretched the entire length of the wall, making the room feel even larger than it was.

  “So, what wonderful things do you want to show me in here? Is there a special soap dispenser? Maybe a towel given to you by the royal duchess of…” she started to say, but her voice trailed away.

  Ragon was looking at her lustfully, his eyes fixed on hers as he reached behind himself and closed the bathroom door. A second later he’d blurred towards her, approaching so fast that Ari’s dark brown hair blew wildly around her face, highlighting her blue eyes. Instinctively Ari bit her bottom lip, but soon Ragon had leaned in close and kissed her, displacing her teeth as his tongue danced inside her mouth. Ari reached up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her fingers intertwining into his dark hair so as to hold him in place. As she kissed him the small spattering of stubble which lined his jaw rubbed against her cheeks and she smiled.

  Too soon Ragon broke away from their kiss and thinking that her pleasure would have to wait, Ari sighed. Then, just when she thought Ragon would open the door and the
y would re-join the coven in the cabin, Ragon reached out a hand and traced the contours of her collar bone. Slowly his fingertips worked their way to her shoulder and she glanced down at Ragon’s hand and watched, slightly awed, as he continued to trace his fingers down her arm, taking the strap of her singlet and bra with him as he went, so that her shoulder was bare.

  “Ragon are you sure that-” Ari began, but Ragon smiled and reached his spare hand out to Ari’s face and cupped it, silencing her immediately.

  She shivered in response, a tingle that sent a wave of euphoria and anticipation from her neck and spread down her body. Ragon’s smile broadened at this, clearly enjoying the way she leant towards him as he continued to touch her. Slowly Ari closed her eyes and Ragon’s hands grew more confident, sliding from her lips, then exposing her lower teeth, and drawing down her neck. As he did this Ari’s head bent back, and with her eyes still closed she felt Ragon’s cold fingertips pull her shirt down entirely, as his hands rested on her chest.

  Ari made to open her eyes but Ragon whispered, “Keep them closed,” and so she did, just as he pressed her up against the vanity and lent down to kiss her breasts, biting playfully at her nipples.

  There was something sensual about Ragon’s commanding nature that made Ari even more desperate for his touch, that and the fact that they were 20,000 feet up in the sky, in a private jet, while the rest of the coven were only a few feet away in the cabin.

  “You know,” he said, lifting Ari up onto the counter and wrapping her legs around his waist, “I have wanted to do this ever since I bought this plane.”

  Ari didn’t respond; she was trying hard to keep her breathing regular, but soon her chest began to rise and fall, faster and faster, spurred on when Ragon’s tongue placed tiny kisses down her stomach. She barely had enough time to draw breath before Ragon kissed her on the lips again, this time much more hungrily.

  “Do you love me?” he asked, ending their kiss so as to use his teeth to toy with her lower lip; she nodded back, reaching up to grab his hair so as to force him to prolong their kiss. “Good,” he added, slowly beginning to unbutton her jeans before pulling them and her top all the way down her body, “how much?”

  Ari laughed and whispered, “Too much… way more than I should.”

  Ragon let a small grin spread across his face and closed the space between them, forcing Ari’s back up against the mirror. Though he was still fully clothed, Ari ground her body towards him, her back arching as she tried to press every inch of herself up against him. Spurred on by this, Ragon’s kisses became increasingly voracious, as though their tongues had been fasted from each other for days, if not weeks. Breaking her attention from Ragon’s lips, Ari glanced down and began undoing his belt buckle. There was a look of mischief on Ragon’s face and before Ari could pull away his belt, he had reached for it.

  He toyed with the leather strap in his hands for a moment then in a blur, locked Ari’s arms together, pulling the belt around them as he fastened them over her head. Still holding tight to the belt, Ragon removed his clothing, so fast that Ari saw only the blur of his pale flesh and finely tone muscles, before he was pressed up against her once more.

  “Wait! What if-” began Ari, but Ragon pulled tightly on the belt around her wrists and pressed a finger to her mouth as he shushed her, laughing wickedly to himself when Ari fell silent.

  After that Ragon reached down, placing his hand between her legs so as to rub the inside of her thighs.

  Ari let out a moan of pleasure, which was quickly stiffened when Ragon pressed a hand over her mouth, kissing her cheeks as he whispered, “Hush my love.”

  Then, still with his hand lightly against her lips, Ragon adjusted his position and thrust into her. She cried out in pleasure, just as Ragon finally released her bound hands, which immediately flew to his hair as she interlocked a few strands of the dark brown locks between her fingers.

  Then the noise of the bathroom door opening shocked both of them and Ragon whipped around to see Sandra. Sandra looked just as startled as they were. She had a vial of something blood red in her fingers, which she had been opening and about to drink. At the sight of Ari and Ragon, her eyes widened and she backed out of the bathroom, the vial still pressed up against her lips as she mumbled an apology.

  “Whoops,” said Ragon, leaving Ari on the counter as he raced to the door and locked it, so that the red ‘occupied’ sign was visible.

  “How could you not lock the door?” asked Ari, her face crimson.

  “I suppose,” he said, racing back to her as he began kissing slowly down her neck, “I was distracted.”

  Ari was still feeling embarrassed, but this emotion was quickly replaced when Ragon reached down between her legs and gently rubbed. Letting out a long moan she locked eyes with him; he had entirely recaptured her attention and was kissing her again, this time keeping his fingers where they were as he thrust into once more.

  When Ari and Ragon finally emerged from the bathroom, half an hour later, they did not join the rest of the coven in the cabin but crept to the very back of the plane. Ari was grateful they were not going back to see the others just yet; her cheeks were blushed and hinted of her previous pleasures and the embarrassment from being caught in the act by Sandra. Though she and Sandra had often spoke of their sexual experiences, it was one thing for Ari to ask advice about a vampire-human relationship, it was quite another for Sandra to witness a demonstration of one.

  “Where are we going?” asked Ari, straightening her shirt as she followed Ragon.

  Ragon had led her to the empty crew quarters and immediately begun rummaging through his suitcase, finally retrieving a black beanie. Ari smiled and took the beanie in her hand.

  “I always loved it when I saw you at uni and you were wearing this,” she said, flattening his hair and placing the beanie on his head; the dark beanie seemed to highlight his stubble and eyebrows and soon Ari found herself lost in his green eyes.

  “I’ll never take it off,” he said, winking at her.

  “You know, you and I… it’s kind of like a fairy tale.”

  “Except in most fairy tales, the princess ends up with the prince… not the monster.”

  “That’s not true!” she said; then in her best sarcastic tone added, “Haven’t you seen Shrek?”

  Ragon looked confused and Ari laughed; clearly vampires didn’t watch Disney movies. Well, she would have to change that.

  When Ari and Ragon finally made their way back to their seats, Ryder and Patrick were cuddled up together asleep, while Thomas sat watching Sandra, who was staring out the window. Ari was glad of Sandra’s preoccupation, but couldn’t help blushing when Clyde looked at her sideways; vampires were capable of excellent hearing, something which she had learnt the hard way, having lived in a house with a coven of them for the past few months. As she retook her seat, she fought hard to keep her face straight, trying not to imagine what Clyde might have heard while Ari and Ragon were joining the mile high club in the bathroom. Still, if vampires could hear so well, why then had Sandra walked in on them? What had made her so preoccupied that she hadn’t heard Ari’s screaming heart in the bathroom?

  “I am absolutely famished,” said Clyde, finally breaking eye contact with Ari, so as to hold up his empty bottle of Jack Daniels, waggling it in the air, “Ragon, I, err may need to reimburse you.”

  “Just as long as you stick to the bottled stuff and keep your fangs off the crew,” whispered Ragon, watching as Clyde spun around in his seat to admire the hostess, who had walked to the cockpit, a fresh cup of coffee in her hands.

  The moment the hostess was out of sight, Clyde turned to face Ragon, a sour look on his face.

  “Surely if I left the pilot alone… what difference will it matter if you don’t have a hostess?” he asked.

  “I’d like not to have to worry about a workplace health and safety lawsuit,” said Ragon, and Ari laughed. “Besides, Chantelle is not just a hostess, she is a trainee co-pilot; her and Bert ta
ke it in shifts to fly the plane. So unless you really do want to find out whether Ari is capable of suspending us all in mid-air, I suggest you keep your fangs to yourself and wait until we land.”

  The pair continued to glare at each other for another minute, before Clyde finally looked down at his empty glass, sighed, then raced to the bar, returning a moment later with a second bottle of Jack Daniels in hand.

  “So, are we doing anything for new year’s eve?” asked Clyde, tipping a thick stream of the dark liquid into his glass. “It is tonight.”

  Ari shrugged; her attention was back with Sandra. She had not even acknowledged the return of Ragon and Ari, but had again begun searching her bag furiously, apparently looking for something.

  “Lost something?” asked Thomas, leaning closer so as to help, but Sandra yanked her hand bag away and shook her head.