18
SHE slipped away into the darkness, hoping Tyler and Brendan would assume she’d gone to find Evan. She had to walk carefully in the stilettos toward the forest edge. She wished she could remove them, but even without the locks on them, she knew it was better to remain in the full trappings of a submissive. When the feeling was too strong to be anything else but close proximity to the vampire, she made a formal curtsy that became a full kneel.
“Sir, are you here to speak to my Master?”
She waited, head bowed. Even though she heard nothing, she knew when he was there, standing before her. His hiking shoes were crusted with marsh mud. Did he live in one of the secluded cabins out in the marshlands, taking his blood from boating tourists?
Alanna.
Evan’s tense voice in her head was welcome, even as she registered his vast displeasure with her decision.
“Who is your Master, fair one?”
The voice was even and reasonable, but she wasn’t fooled. She kept her eyes lowered, her posture open in all ways. “Evan Miller, sir. He travels throughout all territories freely with the sponsorship of Lord Uthe of the Vampire Council.”
“That does not excuse him from coming to the overlord for a token marking before traveling through his territory. I don’t scent Lord Richard’s marking on him.”
“Yes, sir. Lord Richard was appointed by Lady Lyssa. Lady Lyssa has sanctioned my Master’s travel as well.”
A hand with long, sharp nails closed over her throat, lifting her to her feet. Raising her gaze, she saw the vampire holding her had snarled dark hair and a red bloodlust coloring his eyes. He was hunting, had not yet fed. That meant he had no servant. That, combined with his remote location and rough, feral appearance, told her he was a Traditionalist. Her blood ran cold.
The Trads were a more radical splinter of the vampire world, though there was a certain romanticized regard for them, like the human view of pirates or Jesse James. Many vampires, while enjoying the comforts the human world provided, respected the Trads’ purity of intent, their commitment to viewing humans only as prey, no more willing to live in their world than humans were to dwell in a field of cows.
Considering they were a sect of the vampire world who kept human kills only to the level that would escape Council attention, she’d been correct to draw him away from the humans. Killing Brendan or Tyler would be no more to him than snapping off a branch. If called to task for it by Council, he would assert he was protecting the secret of vampire existence from the unmarked human world. Easy to substantiate, since he made no attempt to disguise what he was.
“Why does your Master insult me, sending a servant to explain his presence? He needs a reminder that powerful friends do not excuse him from courtesy to his superiors.”
“I can assure you, sir, my Master meant you no insult. He has to excuse himself from the humans’ presence without causing curiosity. He was protecting your privacy. He says”—she kept her voice steady while telling the lie—“you may sate your hunger upon me, to appease any unintended offense. You may do with me as you wish.”
“That is true, regardless of his will.” His grip eased, though he didn’t release her. Stroking a long-nailed hand over her breast, he sniffed her throat. His breath smelled of stale blood, for Trads shunned what they considered human hygiene. She thought of Niall making out a grocery list that first day, patiently explaining to Evan that “Henry’s out of Aquafresh. You’ll have tae put on your big-boy knickers and make do with Colgate.”
The comfort of the memory vanished as the vampire’s touch dropped. His jagged nail caught the edge of the thong, dipped beneath to scrape her * roughly. When she stole a quick glance at him from beneath her lashes, he was emotionless. It sent a chill up her spine.
“You are lovely. Quite . . . cultured. Why are you with a Master below your station, InhServ?”
Damn it, he’d recognized the InhServ tattoo. “I serve at the Council’s choosing, sir. Rank is unimportant. Only service matters.”
“I’ve no patience for a servant. I couldn’t tolerate even that much of a human around me. But one trained from birth to serve is . . . intriguing. Taking you from your Master will teach him a needed lesson.”
When he closed his hand on her shoulder, his grip made her collarbone protest. He could break it, but he was giving her a direction, pressing her knees deeper into the ground. “You’ll suck me off with those pretty cultured lips while I feed from your wrist. Once your Master arrives, we’ll settle the issue. You might last a few hours in my service, but it will be memorable. A true test of your training.”
As he opened his trousers, she closed her eyes, keeping her head bowed. She told herself it was no different than Niall ordering her to go down on the Mistress earlier. She was trained to do whatever a vampire, or even his higher-ranking servant, told her to do.
Leaning forward, she moistened her lips to lubricate his entry. With a satisfied growl, he clamped down on her skull and shoved himself into the back of her throat. Even with her training, the abruptness took her by surprise. He smelled terrible, and she fought her gag reflex. Focus. Pushing past it, she used her tongue and lips, all her knowledge of giving oral pleasure, to settle him down, help him realize how much more enjoyable it would be if he worked with her.
Wrapping his hand around her wrist, he pulled it toward his mouth. She couldn’t worry about Evan and Niall right now. Evan would be talking Tyler and Brendan down, addressing the same primary concern she had, of a human bloodbath. Her best service to her Master was to put her mind in a state of silence, of open service, doing whatever was required.
You are not doing what your Master requires, Alanna.
She stilled, as did the vampire, sensing Evan’s approach. The male drew his fetid cock from her mouth, thankfully, but he didn’t move away, or drop her wrist. After he fastened his trousers, he stroked her hair, fingertips whispering down to the heavy beat of her neck pulse. Smelling metal, she identified razor tips under his nails, explaining their length. Cutting her throat would be easy.
“Alanna, come to me.”
The vampire tightened his hold. Blood trickled over her collarbone, a shallow cut, but the threat was clear. “You gave her to me to enjoy until you could deign to speak to me. She will take my dick, feed me. And then we’ll see if you have the balls to take her from me.”
“The blessing and curse of an InhServ is her anticipation of a Master’s needs.” Evan’s voice was reasonable. Controlled. Could the Trad hear what she heard beneath it? It reminded her of when she’d first seen Evan feed off Niall, the dangerous glint in his gaze proving he was as much a predator as any other vampire.
“Sometimes they anticipate . . . and offer, too much,” Evan continued. “She will be punished for it. Severely. My letters of sponsorship from Lord Uthe and the Lady Lyssa prove I have clear passage across this territory, with no requirement that I petition the overlord. If you take advantage of my servant, or cause me harm, you answer to them.”
“That may be so, but they care little what I do to your servant.”
“You will take nothing further from her without killing me, and then she’ll be dead as well.” She realized he was hedging his bets that the Trad couldn’t tell she wasn’t third-marked by Evan, not with the mixed stew of blocker, Stephen and Evan all in her blood. “You answer to the Council for the death of another vampire. Lord Uthe is not known for his tolerance. InhServs have a particular value to the Council as well.”
The vampire stared over her head. Alanna could feel Evan’s presence at her back, a deadly stillness. Niall was there as well. The charged testosterone was like ozone, a prelude to an explosion.
The vampire’s nails dug into her flesh, deeper this time. The artery started to bleed freely under his touch. “I can sense your strength, vampire. You are no match for me. Your other servant, though obviously far more of a warrior than his Master, will not stop me, either.”
“This isn’t a pissing match,” Evan said patiently. “I’m simply telling you how things are. You kill me, harm my servant—either of them—you will answer for it.”
“And that’s supposed to make me quake in fear?” the Trad scoffed.
“No. But this might.”
At the sound of a fourth male voice, Alanna lifted her gaze in time to see the lethal silver blade of a katana slide along the Trad’s collarbone, notch against the side of his throat in the same way his razor-tipped nails were against hers. A long-fingered hand wrapped over his opposite shoulder, holding him firm. “I’ve no problem removing your head from your body, Colin. Remove those razor tips from her throat. Very slowly. I might shift my weight and cut through your spine.”
She knew that ice-cool voice, despite the fact that she’d only heard it several times. “Alanna, return to your Master’s side.”
The Trad released her. As she rose on shaky knees and stepped back, she came up against Evan. In the blink since Lord Daegan’s appearance, he’d closed the distance between them. Her Master handed her off to Niall without a word, the Scot pressing her down to her knees just behind him, so that she saw the wooden stakes thrust into the back of the kilt, as well as a wicked knife scabbarded on his calf. Evan didn’t appear armed, but she wouldn’t trust her eyes on that, not with the menace emanating from him.
Though she had her hand pressed to her neck, blood ran over her knuckles. The Trad had cut too deep. It wouldn’t kill her, but she could pass out. She increased the pressure, willing herself to stay upright. If an opportunity presented itself to help Evan or Niall, she wanted to be ready to take it. The memory of Adam, here one moment, gone the next, gripped her with terror now.
“You know me, but I do not know you.” Colin’s gaze narrowed, but he was prevented from turning around by that hand locked on his shoulder. “You, too, are traveling where you shouldn’t be. I will have your name.”
“Most of those who know it are dead. Are you ready to pay that price? You’ve broken no laws. Yet. Leave without looking back, and the matter is concluded. Turn around to see who or what I am, and it will be the last thing you do. Evan and his servants are under the Council’s direct protection, as he said. I am his proof.” Daegan adjusted his grip, and blood started to seep out from beneath the blade.
Colin bared his fangs in a hiss but, true to vampire nature, he accepted he was outmatched. In a brief flash of movement he was gone, the trees whispering of his passing. All three men, the two vampires and one hunter, listened in alert silence, making sure he was taking a path away from the house. Alanna felt the Trad’s presence dissipate like an acrid smoke blown away by a clean wind.
Daegan’s blade disappeared back inside his coat. Though there was moonlight in the clearing, he stayed where the shadows still claimed him. “It’s a good thing I came looking for you, Evan.”
“Yes.” Evan’s response was short, tight. “My thanks, my lord. Is there a problem?”
“Stephen is within a hundred miles of his InhServ. That can’t be a coincidence. He was never fond of the North American continent.”
Alanna’s heart leaped in her throat as she thought once again of the unprotected humans here. But Lord Daegan was already ahead of her. “You need a more protected location.”
“We planned to go to the art colony after this,” Evan said.
Daegan lifted a brow. “With Nerida and Miah?”
“Yes.”
The Council’s assassin nodded. “A defensible position. Head that way as soon as you can travel and plan on staying there unless I indicate otherwise to you. I’ll maintain a perimeter of a few miles and watch for signs of him. He’ll likely bide his time. He has nothing else at this point.”
“She gains him nothing.” Niall spoke now, the frustration obvious in his voice. “It only makes him vulnerable to capture.”
“Stephen isn’t linked to a stronger vampire, Niall. Even his original overlord, the one who took Stephen’s blood before he started rising in the vampire ranks, died of Ennui some time ago. She’s the only living link to his whereabouts. He knows that’s why she’s being kept alive. She’s bait, yes, but once she’s gone, he can disappear, go to unpopulated areas like that Trad. Wait for the times to change and vampires to forget.” Daegan paused. “That’s the practical side. But at heart, Stephen is a vampire, and an excessively arrogant and unforgiving one. He wants her head.”
It was what she herself had thought, but hearing it said out loud chilled her skin. She pushed that aside. “Master, is there any way I can help? If not taking the blocker will draw him closer—”
Niall’s hand landed on her shoulder, a warning. When Evan didn’t respond to her, she looked toward Daegan. “If it will help, my lord—”
Pivoting, Evan caught her by the hair, yanking her up onto her knees. A twist of his wrist arched her throat, her neck at an agonizing angle. “Did I give you leave to speak?” His cruel tone stabbed her heart.
“No, Master.”
“Then you will shut your mouth unless I do. You proved tonight why you shamed your InhServ training. Serving your own will is far more important than serving your Master’s.”
If he’d struck her in the face with a closed fist, he couldn’t have delivered a more lethal blow. She was so stunned she just stared at him.
“Eyes down,” he barked at her, reminding her of the first rule a servant ever learned. Dropping to her palms, she pressed her forehead to the ground, the InhServ’s most submissive posture. When he turned back to Daegan, his feet were planted on either side of her shoulders. “If you’ll give me leave to make my excuses to the Wintermans, my lord, I’ll meet you at a rendezvous point of your choosing, to discuss further matters before we part.”
Evan was so angry every muscle in his shoulders were tight, his eyes cold steel. During their three hundred years together, Niall had incurred that level of wrath perhaps twice. Though he felt very protective toward her as a result, it was clear Evan would put him on the ground if he tried to interfere. Not that it would stop Niall from trying, but it likely wouldn’t result in any help for her.
Though he didn’t agree with what Evan said to shut her down, he understood Evan’s fury with her, because he shared some of it himself. As she’d anticipated, they’d had to deal with Tyler, and convincing a trained operative nothing was amiss, while she was approaching an unknown vampire head-on, had been ten levels of bollocks. It was bad enough her lips had been wrapped around that bastard’s cock. He’d almost had his fangs in her, and that was the least thing the Trad had intended to inflict upon her.
Evan and Daegan had set a place to meet. Daegan disappeared back into the woods, once again a silent, deadly shadow. Despite Evan’s amazing luck with most vampires—tonight notwithstanding—if he ever ran afoul of that one, Niall knew they could share a final drink and toast their asses good-bye.
Evan sent Niall a look brimming with anger, which caused the Scot’s brow to crease. It was merely the truth, but Evan was obviously pissed at everyone at the moment. The vampire jerked his head at Alanna, still in the silent, subservient posture.
“Take her back to the RV. Get it packed up. But before you do that, I want her stripped and chained to the bunk in the back sleeper. If she wants anything . . . food, water, bathroom, she has to ask for it. If she can’t obey me, she’ll be treated like she can’t be trusted.”
He strode away. Looking down, Niall saw Alanna was quivering. A tiny sob escaped her, quickly swallowed. It made his jaw tighten, but when he reached down to pick her up, she shook him off and rose, albeit on legs as shaky as thin branches. The incredibly provocative outfit seemed too exposed for her now, her defeated eyes too vulnerable, no matter her straight posture. He wished he had a shirt he could put over her trembling shoulders. “I can walk, Niall. Unless it is my Master’s will otherwise.”
“No.” He shook his head, not trusting himself to say anything else, because what he wanted to do was pull her against him, hold her fiercely. Then beat her arse for scaring them, right after he threw her down on a bed and buried himself between her legs. He expected Evan had a similar plan in mind, given that he wanted her tied to the bed. “Follow me.”
She did, dutifully, silently. He skirted the party, knowing Evan would handle the apologies. If they ran into the vivacious Chloe now, Alanna would shatter. Their InhServ looked like brittle porcelain.
When they came to the RV, he opened the door, guided her up the steps. She moved away from him, toward the back sleeper. With wooden efficiency, she stripped, leaving the garment of mostly straps and chains in a neat pile on another bunk. Then she knelt, pulling out the box beneath it, because she’d of course familiarized herself with her surroundings, so they wouldn’t have to tell her where anything was.
It held things that could be used for play or punishment, depending on Evan’s mood. No question on which mood held sway right now, so she showed her courage as she laid out a switch, hot stick and scalpel, the items that could deliver the most pain in close quarters. No, not courage. Her shaking had stopped, such that now he didn’t even detect a tremor in her hands. Seeing the dead resignation in her eyes, Niall realized no physical agony would surpass that inflicted by Evan’s words.
She removed four steel manacles. After putting them on her ankles and wrists, she moved to the back bunk and knelt on the thin mattress pad. The manacles had been fitted with clips that could be attached to holes bored into the metal frame. Christ, that brought back some over-the-top memories, when Evan had been of a mind to stop for an hour between destinations and slake his Dominant tendencies with Niall’s body.
She used the heel of each hand to press the wrist clips into the ones at the head of the bed. Sliding onto her stomach, she turned her face to the wall, but spread her legs, waiting for him to do the same to her ankles. Niall’s ankles could reach the holes at the foot, but her legs weren’t that long. They’d have to be fastened on the sides, spreading her so her feet would hang over the sides, making her look more helpless and small.
Aye, the vampire was in a murderous rage, and not just because her foolish bravery could give even an immortal Master heart failure. She’d done it to protect Tyler and the rest, but she’d also done it to keep Evan and Niall safe. Evan had let him hear that much and, as such, Niall understood some of their Master’s anger—better than Alanna in this instance. Thinking about it now, Niall also realized why his comment about Daegan had incensed Evan further.
Regardless, he refused to let her keep on like this. He squatted by the bed. “Look at me, lass.”
She didn’t obey. “It doesn’t matter, Niall. Master is right. Leave me like this until Daegan kills Stephen. It’s the only function I have. I won’t take the blockers anymore, so gag me when the nightmares start.”
“I’ll give ye the injections.”
“He will find me quicker without them,” she responded tonelessly.
Putting his hand on her bare back, he found she was cold. He let his fingers glide over her buttock, but he could have been touching a statue. Over their short time together, she’d begun to tailor her responses to them, as well as explore the heated realm of her own pleasure. Now it was as if she wasn’t inhabiting her body.
“Alanna, stop this.” When she didn’t move, he tightened his fingers on her hip. “Damn it, look at me.”
“Please just leave me alone, Niall. I’m tired.”
“He was angry, Alanna. It was more than the fact that you didn’t obey him; you didn’t trust him to handle the situation.”
“Tyler and Brendan are your friends. I had to stop the vampire from coming onto their property.”
“By offering your blood, your body. Things that belong to your Master, that are only his to give.”
“I knew Evan would want to protect his human friends. That was a sacrifice I could make. It doesn’t matter. It’s all a lie, really. None of it matters.”
“Yes, it does, damn it.” F*ck Evan’s temper, as well as her lifeless compliance. Unlatching the manacles from the bedframe, he turned her onto her back, one hand gripping her forearm. She resisted, stiff, but when he forced the issue, the wall she’d put up between them crumbled. She swung at him with the other arm, but he pulled her to her feet, almost getting his ear taken off by one of the steel cuffs as she struggled, spitting at him like an angry cat. Catching her wrists, he put her back down on the bed, this time on her back, himself on top of her. She nearly emasculated him with her knee.
“That’s enough,” he snarled, giving her a good shake. As she stared up at him, panting, he realized that, in their struggles, she’d raked up the kilt, so that his cock was pressed against her bare mound. Given how close they’d come to losing her, he was the size of a dock piling. “No.” She shook her head. “No.”
His determined thrust pinned her to the bed. Her legs kicked and thrashed, then locked over his buttocks as her body betrayed her, wanting to hold on to him. Pressing her deeper into the mattress, he framed her face with both hands. “You’re not hiding from us, lass. We willnae let you.”
“No.” Tears spilled over his fingers. “Don’t do this to me. It’s better not to feel . . . not to care, or love, or want anything. They told us that. It wasn’t our job to want . . . to . . .”
“To live? To love? To f*cking feel? Why do you think he’s so angry, Alanna? Think with that incredibly intelligent mind of yours. Think, damn it.” He thrust fast and hard, until she was clasping his shoulders, nails biting as she hung on. Her whimpers told him he was giving her a rough ride, but he was taking out some of his own anger, his fear that they wouldn’t reach her in time. He also wanted to scald away the filth of that vampire’s touch from her soft flesh. She wanted it too, her hips lifting to his, as if trying to scrub it away with the friction.
He was ruthless enough to exploit that, pushing her back down, holding her to the mattress with a hand on her throat as he attacked her breasts, suckling and nipping, tasting her flesh as he slammed against her * with every stroke. He hiked her knees up higher on his rib cage so he could go deeper, stronger.
“We’re here, inside ye, muirnín. Ye cannae get free of us. You belong to us. Feel it. Feel me.”
She cried out, the orgasm detonating throughout her body before she could stop it. He spurted inside her savagely, wanting her to have him there always, his scent, his mark. The rough texture of Stephen’s dagger mark rubbed against his pelvis, and he wanted it gone. Wanted it replaced by Evan’s, making it clear she no longer belonged to that life. That she could let it go.
“He hates me.” Now the tears came like a storm. She tried to turn her face away, but he cradled her slim jaw. “He said I shamed him. Just like Stephen.”
“Oh God, no, lass. Not at all.” He wasn’t sure who he wanted to smack more, her or Evan, but in all fairness, Evan lost his temper rarely, and he’d had just cause this time, for certain.
“Colin was going to kill you, muirnín. He would have done it in front of Evan, tae prove he had the upper hand. As important as ye are to the Council . . .”
“They wouldn’t retaliate against a vampire killing a servant.” She closed her eyes. “Evan promised Lady Lyssa he’d keep me safe. He would have failed in his task.”
“Damn it, that wouldnae have mattered. He would have lost you. We would have lost you.” Stroking her tears away with his thumbs, he felt her thigh muscles quivering against his hips where she still held him inside her. He settled down even farther, nudging her very womb. God, he could stay inside her cunt for days, the clasp of those brown eyes, her trembling arms. All they needed was Evan to make it balanced.
He and Evan had made an agreement, early on in their unique arrangement. If Niall occasionally wanted to enjoy a casual f*ck with a woman and Evan wasn’t around to share, that was well and good. It had been fine for Niall, but he’d never been with a female and had the thought he had now. The active wish that Evan was here, a closed circle.
Though he was certain his decision to take Alanna now didn’t have Evan’s approval, meaning he’d likely pay for it with blood, it didn’t make the feeling about the vampire’s absence any less strong.
Evan and he had another agreement as well. No male touched Niall without Evan’s say so and participation. The vampire was unapologetically possessive on that score, and Niall had accepted the condition so easily. He’d told himself it was because he preferred women most times anyhow, but the passing of years, and how long he’d adhered to the restriction, had proven that a lie a long time ago.
“You’re important to him, lass,” he murmured. “Why is that so hard for you to ken?”
“Why do you ask me questions you should be asking yourself?” He should have remembered how intuitive she could be, even in a torn-up emotional state. Opening her eyes, she stared up at him. “I’m going to die, Niall. I know Evan wants me to be something else, but perhaps it’s better for me to be what I’ve always been. Just like you told him in the beginning. Because when Stephen dies, and I wake on the other side and find myself . . . bound to him . . .”
Her voice started to shake, betraying the fear, the dread. She’d let it loose on the mountain that one time, when a stressful situation had pushed her to breaking, and he saw it again now. She was like that little lad with his finger in the dike, always aware of the great wall of water waiting to overcome her on the other side.
“What will help me endure it for all eternity?” she whispered. “The training that says anything he does to me, I deserve, or Evan’s world, where I have no idea what I am? Who I am?”
Closing her eyes, she turned her face away. “Please leave me alone. I just . . . let me be alone. I’m afraid . . . and so tired . . .”
Tears spilled anew over his fingers, but now the sobs were held inside, with such effort her ribs might break from it.
When he slid off of her, giving her the ability to breathe, she turned toward the wall. He didn’t leave her, though. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, bent his thighs under hers to cradle her, keep her together.
As she made a plaintive noise of pain, he merely held her closer. “I’m nae going to leave you. Cry, be afraid, whatever ye need to let it out.”
The sobs burst forth, though she turned her face to the pillow to muffle them. She couldn’t muffle the shudders, though, the jerking of her muscles. She was so reserved, so self-possessed, he’d overlooked how truly young she was. Not even out of her twenties. Her upbringing had forced great maturity on her, but she’d brought great maturity to it. A young woman facing the certainty of her death, and the terrible uncertainty of what came after.
Age didn’t offer much in the way of comfort, though. Here he was, nearly three hundred, helpless to do anything to make it better other than holding her like this and wishing like hell something could be done.
Male fingers caressed him, sliding down the bare curve of his back to rest on his arse. Glancing up into Evan’s somber eyes, Niall wasn’t surprised to see his anger was gone. Like him, the vampire’d had time to recover from the fright she’d given them both. Evan tilted his head, indicating he intended to take his place. Reluctantly, Niall slid off the bunk. Alanna, oblivious to them, caught in her own misery, remained hunched in a ball, quivering.
Go pack up the cottage. I’ll deal with things here.
Niall nodded, but as he slid past Evan in the narrow space, he gripped the male’s hip, still uncertain about leaving the lass. Evan touched Niall’s face.
All will be well, neshama.
Absurdly enough, the vampire’s words brought him comfort. It was a reminder that, even when such a reassurance was all that could be offered for an impossible situation, sometimes it was enough.
Alanna was lost in an exhausted haze, body twitching with stress. A part of her was desperately glad Niall hadn’t left her alone, but then he shifted away. She stilled as a body she well recognized slid behind her, hand settling on her hip.
“Alanna. Turn over and look at me.”
In her entire life, she’d never considered ignoring a vampire’s command, but this time, she wanted to. When his long fingers tightened on her, a warning, she let out a shaky sigh, turned over on her back. She had enough vanity to swipe at the strands of hair plastered to her cheeks by her crying, but he pushed her fingers away, did it himself. His gray eyes were so close, the sculpted mouth and jawline. He had such an interesting face, she thought tiredly. Not classically handsome, but an ironically artistic appeal, a charisma that had told her from the beginning he was a resourceful and exceptionally intelligent male.
“Yes, I am exceptionally resourceful. I wish you’d believed that an hour ago.”
Her mind was clear enough to recall Niall’s words. You didn’t trust him enough. Looking at the tightness around Evan’s mouth, the lingering disappointment and frustration in the vampire’s gaze, it clicked, what Niall had been trying to tell her. The realization horrified her enough she would have scrambled off the bed and knelt in penitence, but Evan was in front of her. Instead she tried to genuflect as much as the narrow bed allowed, even with his grip on her upper arm. “Master, I’m so sorry. The last thing I ever intended was to make you feel . . . Of course I trust you to care for me. Always.”
At least as much of “always” as fate would give her. “I just wanted to care for you, and Evan, and the guests . . . it never occurred to me that you would think . . .”
“I know it didn’t.” Those gray eyes were quiet, accepting. If anything, that hurt her heart worse. Putting his fingers on her mouth, he stopped the rush of words. “I am in your mind, if not in your soul, Alanna. Now that my heart isn’t racing like a train, certain Colin was going to drop your bloody corpse at my feet, I know what you were thinking. I expected you to respond to me the way Niall does. It was unrealistic to expect the intuitive understanding he and I developed over centuries.”
He stroked through her hair, caressed her ear. She wanted to lean into that touch, needed to do so, but she didn’t deserve that. She forced herself to stay still, to simply listen and ache, wishing she could do so many things differently.
“Ah, yekirati. Your political and sexual skills, your incredible beauty and training; you base your decisions on those things. You’ve never had a Master value you for more than that. When one does, it introduces a whole different set of decision-making variables.”
Her brow creased, but he touched her chin, guiding her tearstained face back to his. “I’ve been trying to help you know what that means. Remarkable student that you are, I think you’ve just about figured it out, despite the short time we’ve been together. Perhaps what confused you is that I intended my participation to be as a teacher, a guide. I didn’t realize I was going to become a living example of what I was trying to show you.”
Her heart fluttered uncertainly when his lips curved, a faint smile. “Though I regret the events of this night, if it helps you make the connection, it was worth it. Do you understand it yet, Alanna?”
She couldn’t breathe, not with the way he was looking at her now. He slid his knuckles to her cheek, waiting for her response.
She’d never been much of a movie watcher, but she remembered one she’d seen, a long time ago in her mother’s kitchen. She’d been sitting in the corner, practicing her patience and waiting skills, and the small TV on the counter, left on by her sisters, had been showing the black-and-white version of The Miracle Worker. Annie Sullivan’s struggle to help a blind and deaf child communicate had caught her attention.
By the time they reached the climactic scene at the well pump, Alanna had been captured by the story line. Helen finally made that connection, learning something everyone had expected to be beyond her reach. The simple link between a finger sign made in her palm and its actual meaning. Words. Connection. It had opened up the entire universe to her.
Now Alanna truly understood it, the momentous shift when Helen spelled water in her teacher’s hand. She swallowed. Evan had forced her to face the fact that she’d wanted to love Stephen and had wanted him to care about her. Not for her skills or the political prestige she’d brought to him. Not even for her unconditional service to him. She had wanted him to see past all that, see her. Value her. Her unconditional service was more than training—it was key to every need, desire and vulnerability she had. Everything she truly was. She thought of her brother kissing his Mistress’s foot, the look his vampire had given him. Devotion, caring . . . love. Perhaps vampires didn’t feel it the same as humans, but she’d seen it in the Mistress’s face, and the desire to find that, to earn it, had burned in Alanna’s heart like acid.
But there were two parts to it. It wasn’t only about finding someone who would value her, who would let her serve them as she desired. It was also about finding the Master who captured her heart, who she wanted to serve with everything she was.
Evan was still holding her wrist. Slowly, she put pressure on his grip, reaching for his hand with straining fingers. When he loosened his grasp, she let out a tremulous breath, closed her fingers over his wrist, reversing their positions. Then, shifting her hold, she brought her face down to his hand, pressing her cheek into his palm, her lips. He allowed it. Allowed her to show her affection, her regret, and accepted it. Accepted her.
He cared about her. Not like a passing thought, a favorite toy. She, Alanna, had emotional value to him. Enough that putting herself in danger had enraged him, because she hadn’t been where he could protect her.
She had no words for how she was feeling, only that she was feeling so much, she had to press herself as hard as she could against that contact point. He gathered her in closer to him, so her face was between his palm and chest, her ear pressed over his heart when she heard him say something so remarkable—for a vampire—she thought she’d misheard it.
“I am sorry, Alanna. I shouldn’t have said what I said. It was cruel. I said it because I was furious, not because it was true. Brian said you were the best of your InhServ class, the example all others wished to follow. No, let me finish. I think that happened because you exceeded the program, representing the true spirit of it. InhServs should be assigned to vampires worth serving. Which is part of why you told the Council what Stephen had done. You served the well-being of all of us. You thought like a Council member, not a servant. Just the same way you did today.”
“It wasn’t that noble. My brother—”
“Was the catalyst,” he inserted. “Stephen was betraying his own people. When he showed such disregard for your brother’s death, and you knew he was planning Lord Daegan’s death, it helped you make the right decision, no matter the circumstances.”
She thought about that, her cheek still pressed to his chest. “You’re worth serving, Master.”
“Thank you for that, but I think you’ve always been meant for far bigger things than sorting slides and cutting our hair. Any vampire would be lucky to have you, Alanna.”
She liked sorting slides and cutting hair. She liked being with the two of them. But she was too drained to say that. Instead, she stayed silent. Content to just be here, in this moment.
He stroked her hair. “I will take you to your brother’s grave, let you put flowers on it. You can visit your family as well if you wish.”
She choked on another unexpected, overwhelming sob, and he tightened his arms around her. “It’s all right, motek. It’s all right.”
“I’m so sorry, Master. I didn’t intend to hurt you, or do the wrong thing. It tears my heart out, thinking I made you feel for one moment I thought any less of you. You’re the most wonderful vampire I’ve ever met.”
She flushed, realizing how simple she sounded, but he chuckled warmly, held her closer. “I think you should remember what Niall said, about even a pile of manure looking better than Stephen. But you’re forgiven, sweet girl. Totally forgiven, if you stop crying. You’ve made Niall a mess. Your bear is beside himself. He’s supposed to be packing up, but instead he’s lurking outside, sure I’m going to murder you.”
When he tipped her chin up, she saw his wry, tender look. It undid her. Though she’d sounded like a starstruck teenager, she’d meant it. And with or without the third mark, he was in her soul. They both were.
A muscle flexed in his jaw. Now you’re trying to do it to me. Jewish men are notoriously emotional, even the vampire ones.
It made her smile, even through the tears. “I’m glad you took off the contacts,” she said shyly.
Evan’s lips quirked. “The first time I used them at an event like this, Mistress Regina was quite taken with them. She tried to tie me up. Niall teased me tonight, said I wore them just to impress her. He knows that woman scares me to death.”
Alanna couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to cover up Evan’s gray eyes, the way they changed from storm clouds to a dove’s breast, to the hazy predawn sky when rain was promised. Realizing she was gazing up at them now, she blushed again, but Evan touched her face.
“You paint words in your mind beautifully, yekirati.” He kissed the salty tracks of her tears, stroking the hair at her temples, then rested his hands on her shoulders.
“As much as I’d like to hold you well through the morning, Daegan can’t wait indefinitely. I want you in my sight while I meet with him. In fact, you may be chained to my bed every dawn until I stop having waking nightmares about you in the hands of that unwashed, mishugina zealot.”
She was chagrined anew, but he turned her so her feet were on the floor, her sitting next to him on the bed. The look he cast at her manacles and bare body heated her skin. “You still have that severe punishment coming. I’ll just wait until I can enjoy it more. Can you put yourself together in five minutes?”
“Three, Master.”
“Get to it, then.”