20
THEY wouldn’t reach their destination until midevening, so once full dark came, Evan told her to go up front with Niall so he could do some work in solitude. As a result, she enjoyed the winding roads up into the Tennessee hills. Niall eventually turned off on a more narrow access. It wasn’t quite as primitive as the deer paths to reach the mountain cabin, but it twisted enough to keep his attention firmly on managing the hairpin turns and grumbling about the steep grades that slowed the heavy vehicle considerably. Finally, he turned off at a parkway entrance. A carved wooden sign indicated they’d arrived at Farida Sanctuary, a private artist colony.
A half mile down the road, Niall slowed for a guard booth. The woman who stepped out of its shelter was easily six feet tall. In boots, crisp jeans and a dark golf shirt embroidered with the sanctuary name, she looked like a cross between an Amazon warrior and Native American princess. Her beautifully sculpted arm muscles and long, dark braided hair, as well as the fact that she was armed with a combat knife in a beaded and fringed scabbard, added to the dual impression. She also had a nine-millimeter in a shoulder holster.
Despite her daunting appearance and watchful expression, the moment she shined her flashlight on the driver’s side, she smiled broadly.
“Niall. Right on time.” She tucked her tongue in her cheek. “Evan must be dead.”
The Scot snorted. “No such luck. I do occasionally keep him on schedule. Guid to see ye, Mel.”
Her gaze shifted then, sharpening on Alanna. “It’s all right,” Niall said. “She can be trusted. She’s a friend in need.”
Mel nevertheless shone the flashlight over Alanna, covering her from head to toe. “Any trouble following her I need to know about?”
“Aye,” Niall said, surprising Alanna. “Nothing that’ll risk a straight-on attack, but Evan’ll brief the girls so they know what tae expect.”
“Brief them fast, so they can bring me into the loop on what I need to know.” Snapping off the flashlight, she shot him a disgruntled look. “You’re supposed to let me know when you’re bringing a guest. But since Nerida and Miah gave Evan an unconditional pass on whatever he drags in here, including you, I’ll let you get away with it.”
“Guid. I’d hate to get out of this thing and kick your arse. I’m creaky as an old man from driving all the day.”
She harrumphed. “Big words, paleface. We have the usual bungalow ready. There’s still quite a few folks up, so you might get mobbed.”
“I’ll warn Evan. See you when you get off shift.”
She gave him an appraising look, frankly sexual. “If I’m in a giving mood, I might help you work the creak out of those old bones.”
Chuckling, he lifted a hand in acknowledgment. When he put the RV back in gear, Mel opened a well-reinforced security gate, but Alanna watched the way the woman’s eyes lingered on Niall’s profile as they drove past. Of course Niall enjoyed the pleasures of other women. That had been clear from the first, and it wasn’t entirely unusual, particularly for male servants in the service of male vampires. Many vampires who had a more utilitarian relationship with their servants cared little if they had extracurricular liaisons, as long as it didn’t interfere with their loyalty and service to the vampire.
Stephen had been less tolerant of such things with his female servants, but it wouldn’t have mattered if he had been. An InhServ didn’t indulge that option. Performing with another servant at the vampire’s behest was a different matter, an extension of their will. While she’d enjoyed those other female and male bodies, united in their purpose and trained to give one another pleasure, Stephen’s will had remained the driving factor.
She didn’t like thinking about Evan allowing such liaisons, though she had no justifiable reason for feeling that way. But when he or Niall merely looked at her, she was so overwhelmed. She couldn’t imagine participating in an empty sexual encounter with a human outside their world. It could only be a pale shadow of that connection. She should leave it alone, but . . .
“So, Evan doesn’t mind you having sex with others?”
Niall turned onto a paved single-lane road, cloistered by thick forest growth. A rabbit bounded out in front of the RV and stayed there, guiding the vehicle for a hundred feet. Given that they were on an incline, the RV trundled along, accommodating the creature’s pace until the rabbit jumped back into the foliage. “Not with other women. As long as it doesnae interfere with what he wants from me. It’s a pleasurable way to pass the time. ’Tis not like we can pursue a career, cultivate an absorbing hobby. The vampire’s the center o’ our universe, aye?” He shot her a droll look, but she couldn’t summon up a return smile. In fact, she felt an urge to scowl. “Our diversions have to orbit him, not cross the path and crash into the planet.”
“Very visual. Evan is rubbing off on you.” She bit her lip at her catty tone. Raising a shoulder, she tried to sound more casual. “So if an attractive male here wants to have sex with me while Evan is sleeping or otherwise engaged, I have the freedom to—”
Fortunately, there was no one following them, because Niall braked sharply. “No. You don’t.”
She arched a brow. “It shouldn’t affect the blocker. Why should it matter to you who touches me when—”
His hand landed on her leg, possible in the roomy RV only because of the long reach of his arm. “As far as you’re concerned, whatever comes from my mouth on this topic, comes from us both.” That tawny gaze had gone gold, his expression and tone not one whit less compromising than one of Evan’s orders in truth.
“Why?” She never questioned an obvious order from either male, but her mind was snared by the woman’s blatant appraisal of Niall. It was obvious she’d enjoyed his body, and was looking forward to doing so again.
“I told you to take care in dealing with a jealous woman, Niall. You’re out of practice.” Evan slid through the opening between the main camper and the driving area, taking the backseat centered between them. As he stretched out his legs behind Alanna’s seat, he propped his other hand on the back of Niall’s.
Alanna pressed her lips together, cheeks reddening. She was being irrational. It was a reality of a servant’s life, she knew that. With Evan here as a vivid reminder of that, she forced herself to behave properly. “I simply want to be sure I’m following the correct etiquette for the situation here, Master.”
“Would you like the option of sex with another man, Alanna?”
No. It was such a vehement declaration, the recoil of it sent a pain through her chest. Leaning forward, Evan tangled his fingers in her hair. “Then the correct etiquette isn’t really an issue, is it?” His tone was neutral, reasonable, though something in his gaze wasn’t. “You’ll let me know if that changes.”
But what were Evan’s thoughts on it? Niall’s were obvious, and flattering, though in a backhanded way, since the Scot didn’t seem to think there was any problem with thrusting his cock into some tall Amazon woman who probably didn’t shave her armpits and used skunk spray for deodorant. She ignored Evan’s muffled chuckle, staring out the window, her face averted from their driver.
Of course, Niall’s thoughts could be more sexist than emotional. Being three hundred years old, he couldn’t hide the fact that he found women fragile and in need of protection from male advances. She was pretty good at hand-to-hand. She could show “Mel” a thing or two, maybe put her on the ground to safeguard Niall’s virtue. Not that he seemed to desire its protection.
The forbidding darkness to Niall’s expression discouraged further poking at him. Though she felt a perverse desire to do just that, Evan tightened his fingers on her nape.
Do not goad him, Alanna. The old friends he sees here, he may not see again.
Shame flooded her. Why had she not thought of that? Evan shook his head, telling her not to speak of it, and she didn’t, but she could do something else. As Niall brought the vehicle to a halt in front of their lodgings, she touched his hand on the wheel.
“I have no desire to be with anyone other than you and my Master, Niall. I am here for the two of you only, no matter what other engagements you desire.”
The words stuck in her throat, but she was here to serve. Never to make demands, never to have anything of her own. No possessions didn’t mean material items only, after all.
Though Niall put his other hand over hers, acknowledging the words, he said nothing himself. In fact, he immediately took his touch away, shutting down the RV.
The bungalow was a neat, small cottage. A wealth of flowers spilled off the porch rails from wooden boxes, while lush groupings of black-eyed Susans and various colorful flowers she didn’t yet know screened the foundation. Instead of balustrades supporting the porch rails, there were carved panels in between the main posts. A bear guiding her two cubs, a deer leaping over a stream, a hawk in flight. She expected they’d been done by colony residents.
“Is the art they have here very valuable?” she asked Evan. “Mel seemed well armed.”
“This is more than an art colony. It’s a sanctuary for women and children,” Evan said.
As Niall left the vehicle, Alanna watched him stride up the stairs to unlock the door, scope the interior. From the tense set of his shoulders, it was clear he wouldn’t welcome her assistance right now. Evan’s expression reminded her to let it be, so she focused on his explanation.
“Many of them are victims of domestic violence. Others have escaped countries where women don’t have basic freedoms, access to education, and this is a place of transition for them. It was a sanctuary before it was an art colony. Forty years ago, one of the women who came was a very gifted painter and sculptor. Initially, she developed art programs to help women and children deal with what had happened to them, or to express what they were becoming.” Warmth touched Evan’s serious gray eyes. “Some of the residents had the talents and desire to achieve commercial success. Out of those, a few returned to be permanent staff, to use this as their main studio while continuing to teach others the way she did.”
Alanna absorbed that. “Are there any men here, other than the two of you?”
“Yes. Else your suggestion wouldn’t have gotten under Niall’s skin.” Evan gave her a tight smile. “The colony’s population is about two hundred people. Twenty-eight are resident artists. They’re all women, ones who originally came here for sanctuary. Forty are maintenance, administrative and security staff, like Mel, with about fifteen of them being men. The founder of the sanctuary realized early on it was important to have men present who could be role models of how men should act toward women and children. Many of them serve under Mel as security, which proves there are men who take their well-being and protection very seriously.”
“Does the founder live here?”
“No. I’m sworn not to reveal his identity.” Evan squeezed her hand. “What he’s doing is not against the rules of our kind, but it’s a vulnerability to know too much about a vampire.”
The founder was a vampire? She looked toward the lit cottage. Niall was standing inside, studying something on the floor. Or perhaps he was staring into space, working through his thoughts. Glancing back at Evan, she saw he had his wrist resting comfortably along the top of her seat, his posture relaxed. It appeared he was giving his servant time to do just that.
“Master, may I ask you something?”
His gray eyes shifted to her. He could of course see the question in her mind, but seeing and responding to it were two distinct acts.
“You’ve asked me often what I want, but I wonder . . . what it is you want from me.”
The answer had been simple before she met them. A vampire wanted obedience, unquestioned loyalty. Immediate compliance to anything he demanded.
“Those are all good things. And you need to work on them.”
She flushed, knowing he was referring to the Trad, but on other things, he had to assume some fault, because he was asking her to break out of her mold, walk in territory she wasn’t used to treading.
She’d tried to squelch that, but when his gaze sparked with amusement, she knew she was all right. Though her working on a less vocal mind was probably starting to be on his list of desires.
“Most likely,” he responded dryly. Then he leaned forward, gazing into her face with such intensity she was tempted to look down, but she knew now when he wanted her meeting his eyes.
“I want you to live to be three hundred, Alanna,” he said. “I want you to have as full a life as Niall has had. And I want to do whatever is necessary to make that happen. But should that be beyond my abilities”—a muscle ticked in his jaw—“I want you to take what pleasure and happiness you can from what you’re given.”
She swallowed. It was the most generous thing anyone had ever said to her. But it wasn’t what she was seeking. Her real question was one she had no right to ask at all. Ironically, she’d never worried about the answer to it, until now. “You want me to embrace my feelings, my desires, my wants. You’ve demanded I act on them, instead of my training. I never thought I’d meet a vampire who . . . would make me want to demand the same from him.”
His brow arched, the gray eyes sharpening. “Demand?”
“I need to know what I have no right to know, Master. For me to make the most of that pleasure and happiness, I need to know how you feel.”
He shook his head. “The devil blesses a woman’s tongue to confound male senses. Niall used to say that, early in my service. I told him it was superstitious nonsense, but you’ve just rendered him speechless, and trapped me in my own clever and magnanimous verbiage.”
She suspected she was going to have a permanent blush, but still she persisted. “I’ve never wanted to be with a human not of our world, Master. I’ve always wanted this world, and to serve a vampire. What you are, what you feel, what you need. That’s my purpose . . . my desire. So I need the answer of the vampire, not the civilized man.”
He nodded. Considered. The veneer she’d sensed when he asked her if she wanted to have sex with another man dropped, the gray eyes steeling in a way that sent desire arrowing straight through her. He gave her a clear and ruthless answer.
“If you let another male touch you, other than Niall, I will take a belt to you in a way that will get me thrown out of here in a heartbeat, banned forever. And I won’t regret it a bit. Now, go make amends with Niall, because he feels exactly the same way.”
Something bloomed in her heart, an explosion of flowers like those in front of the cottage, a variety of shapes and colors, but all wondrous to experience. “Is Niall . . . all right with you touching me?”
A trace of humor cut through Evan’s hard look. “Reluctantly, I’m sure. But there’s nothing he can do about that, or I’ll take a belt to him as well. Or maybe a two-by-four. He’s a little more stubborn than you are. Or so I thought.”
With a grunt, he stood, pulling her out the opening between the front seats to direct her through the side door. Catching her waist, he skipped the steps, landing on the ground with her held against him. As he let her feet touch, he ran his hand down her back with not-so-casual ownership. “Enough of that, now. I’ll leave you two to set up house. My privilege, as lord of the manor, to avoid manual labor. We’ll be here awhile, so make it home. I liked the touches you put on the mountain cabin.”
As she glowed at the compliment, he gave her a fond pinch. “I’ll go speak to Miah and Nerida before Mel puts herself into a froth. She’s probably already called them twice to see if I’ve met with them.”
“Are they part of the security team?”
“Yes and no. They’re permanent residents here, and help in whatever way is needed.” He checked the tuck of his shirt, began to unroll his cuffs, but Alanna shook her head.
“They’ll be wrinkled, Master. I can prepare another shirt for you.”
“No, this will be fine.” As he raked his fingers through his hair, she feathered his bangs so he looked well tended. He gave her a smile. “You’re a treasure, yekirati. Now, so you won’t get alarmed when you sense them, Nerida and Miah are vampires. Except for those who serve their blood needs, we are the only ones here who know that.” He paused. “They were turned as children, Alanna. They’re in their seventies, but they’re physically trapped at those ages. Nerida looks six, Miah about twelve or thirteen.”
The idea horrified her. “What vampire—”
“Long dead, as he full deserved.” His jaw firmed. “The founder took the two of them under his wing, and they found a permanent place here. In our world, they would never be safe.” A grim smile touched his lips. “They’re like me, only their comparable lack of strength is much more obvious. However, the fact that they’re still far more powerful than humans makes them an excellent backup to the security detail. An abusive husband or a team sent from one of those oppressive countries to reclaim their women won’t expect a six-year-old to disembowel them. Another reason for the deep forest location. Easier to dispose of bodies.”
He flashed his fangs. “Mel is one of their two marked servants. Her grandparents, Kohana and Chumani, served the vampire who helped Miah and Nerida acclimate to the vampire world, as much as they could. And of course, this territory, while ostensibly under Lord Richard, is also still considered very much Lady Lyssa’s as well. They exist in the shadow of her protection as well.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Because Miah and Nerida clearly have the mannerisms of adults, residents have been told they have a rare aging and sun disorder where they will always look like children, and can’t go out in daylight. They stay here so they aren’t turned into freaks and exploited by the outside world. Some may wonder at the truth of that, but science is more easily believed than the supernatural. Those who came here for safety and secrecy also tend to respect that need for others. So far, Miah and Nerida have always been safe here.”
The vampire world was turning out to be so much more than she knew. Though she wanted to hear more, she understood his responsibility to bring them into the loop about Stephen. “We’ll get the household set up to your liking, Master.”
“I’ve no doubt.” He gave her an appraising look, then he was gone, turning and disappearing into the night. But her body heated at that look, remembering his threat in the vehicle, a threat that she took in a way perhaps most women wouldn’t. But most women weren’t raised in the vampire world. Other than her brother, it was the closest to an emotional declaration she’d received from a male.
Well, perhaps not the only one. Mounting the stairs, she found Niall now in the kitchen. A plate of cookies had been left next to a vase of daisies on the counter. He’d turned back the cellophane and was finishing what appeared to be his third or fourth helping. He nodded to the plate. “Nerida left us cookies. Better eat them now, because there won’t be any later.”
“Apparently,” she noted, trying to smile at him, reclaim their easy earlier state. He straightened.
“We’ll pull in his equipment first. I can get most of it if you’re tired. Or if you want tae rest up for whatever ‘extracurricular activities’ ye have planned.”
She narrowed her gaze. “You’re the one with extracurricular plans. Perhaps you should refuel with cookies while I unpack. I wouldn’t want her disappointed by your performance.”
Yes, she knew what Evan had said about old friends, but she hadn’t expected Niall to be nasty. Though his expression became more hostile, she bumped toes with him, glaring back. “I asked because I wanted to know what was expected. Not because I intended to go out and jump the first available male. I don’t want that.”
“But you’ll condemn me for it? Like I’m some sort of hoormaister? It’s only supposed to be about the vampire? His wants and needs?”
“To an InhServ, yes. You and Evan have your own ways. I expect he would prefer to have your full devotion, but—”
“Excuse me?” His brows knitted together, clouds drawing together before the storm. Crossing her arms, she took a step back, not in retreat, but to avoid a crick in her neck.
“It’s not an insult, Niall. Knowing you hold yourself only for his will, whether it’s to watch us with another, or for another purpose, but always to serve him—it says something.” She took a breath, trying to give him an earnest explanation. “It builds the bond, deepens it. Most vampires . . . when you give them your full devotion, there’s an energy to it. Like the slow anticipation of a climax, when Master is teasing you, keeping it out of reach until you think you’ll explode from it.”
“Aye, ye know so much about it. Your mindless devotion to Stephen was bloody perfection.”
She slapped him. When he caught her wrist, dragging her to him, she didn’t try to yank free, but stayed stiff and angry, her face close to his enraged one. They’d taught her expressing her emotions was acceptable, so she’d embrace the lesson.
“What Stephen was or wasn’t to me wasn’t relevant to my oath. I served him fully, no matter what. There was honor in that, purpose. Your debt of honor to Evan was the excuse for something you wanted but couldn’t give yourself.” Her voice had lifted to a near shout. She’d never shouted in her life.
Okay, maybe she was embracing the lesson a little too much. She pulled back. She wasn’t showing proper control, but beyond that, her anger would accomplish nothing in the face of his own temper. So she took it down a notch, speaking calmly despite the fact that she was hurt, a dull throb beneath her heart.
“You fear the risk I took with Stephen, but it’s nonsense. However wrong it was for me to wish for it, you have within your grasp what I hoped to have. You have it because you aren’t an InhServ.”
His gaze flickered with surprise, some of the anger chased away by it. Her lips quivered, then she firmed them, lifting her chin. “The irony of that isn’t lost on me. What I truly wanted may have been lost to me from the beginning. But I think if you had only a touch of what I am, you could let yourself love Evan the way you’ve always wanted. With everything you are. You think you betrayed your wife because you didn’t love her the way you love Evan now. So you withhold it, to punish you both.”
The flush in his cheeks drained away. As Niall stared at her, speechless, she realized she’d gone too far, said too much. Had she smashed a wall behind which he hadn’t even sensed the truth? Or had she simply hurt him to no purpose other than to assuage her own anger?
“Niall.”
He shook his head, a sharp slice of his hand silencing her. A hundred thoughts were moving behind his eyes. Perhaps he was right about the devil blessing a woman’s tongue. First she’d offended Evan by not trusting his judgment with the Trad, and now this. She wished they’d let her do self-flagellation, because she was sorely in need of it. Her emotions were so uncontained, the two she least wanted to offend kept getting caught in the maelstrom.
Reaching out, she caught that hand. He didn’t pull away, but he was rigid, stiff. Even so, she lifted his hand to her mouth, pressing her lips to his rough, large knuckles. She held her cheek there, just as she had with Evan.
“You were right. I was jealous.” She could swallow pride, an unusual indulgence for her anyhow. Her cheeks were burning, though. “I meant what I said. I’m here to serve you and Evan, however you need me. No matter what.”
“Both of us?” His voice was wooden, but she took heart from the question.
“Yes. I serve you both.”
“You slapped me.”
“Well . . .” She cleared her throat, keeping her eyes on his thick fingers. “Sometimes that’s a necessary service.”
Hearing a low rumble, she dared a glance up. He was chuckling. The anger dissipated, but it left the pain. She touched his mouth before he could tell her no. “I shouldn’t have said those things.”
“Do you think they’re true?” He met her gaze, his jaw tight.
“Does it matter what I think?”
“Aye, it does, lass.” He sighed, a resigned, weary sound she didn’t like. “You ken how to read people. There’s summat to what ye said, even if I dinnae want to hear it. Though it matters little now.”
“Maybe it matters more than you realize.” His accent had thickened, and she was starting to realize what that meant.
Putting her arms around him, she hugged as much of him as she could, a man of his bulk. They both faced death, and no matter how brave he was, it had to be unsettling to come to terms with the loss of all he knew. To lose Evan, the one continuous presence in his life. His family.
After only these few days, she had an understanding of what it meant to truly belong to another, to love and have a family. It was a far more precious thing than a functional, one-sided and mostly emotionless relationship. Burying her face in his chest, in the heat and solidity of him, her precarious world steadied as she tried to do the same for him.
She was glad he hadn’t pressed her for an answer to his question. She’d said she was sorry, not because she didn’t believe what she said, but because she was afraid she’d tear apart the fragile thing she’d been enjoying with them. That wasn’t very noble, but it was honest.
“Did Evan tell ye what he thought of ye and other men?” The rumble in his voice made her smile.
“You know he did. You just want to hear me say it. He said he’d take a belt to me.”
“Mmph. That’d make two of us.” He had a fondness for those hard squeezes of her backside, the ones that made her squirm against him, which she expected was his intent. When she punched him in the side, he chuckled again.
“You’re getting a feisty side, lass. ’Tis a guid thing, even when I want to strangle ye for it. Leave off, now. Let a man be a man and maintain his demons as he pleases. Women always want to turn us inside out, put that nonsense on the outside, make us soft. I’ll take care of the unloading; you go find Evan. He wants to make sure I didnae murder ye. I’ll leave all the nesting to you, so you willnae feel ye shirked your duty.”
“You just want me to do all the unpacking.”
“There is that. Go to him. Nerida and Miah want to meet ye.”
“All right.” Evan wanted her, and that required an immediate response, but she did pause to put both hands on his firm jaw. “Can you say ‘murder’ again? You’re so Scottish when you get mad.”
“I’m always Scottish, muirnín. No matter how far I get from the bloody place. Murder, murder, murrrdurrr. Here’s another you’ll like. Houghmagandie. That’s sex for pleasure, not for procreation, a right sinful thing, ye ken.”
She smiled, then sobered, curling her fingers against his face. “Whatever the truth is, Niall, I didn’t intend to hurt you.”
He closed his hands on her wrists, holding her there. “Ah, lass. I guess I started it, didn’t I? I wouldnae have reacted the way I did to ye talking about other men if you didnae matter to me far more than you should. Three hundred years since a woman captured my heart, and ye did it in less than a week.”
When her eyes stilled on his, he continued, “I do hope guid things for you, but maybe, once things are resolved and they reassign ye, which they will, ’tis fine my time’s coming tae an end. Knowing I’d lose you, on top of Evan . . .” He shrugged, gave her a smile that wrenched her heart. “To my way of thinking, Heaven only exists if my heart stays here with you two.”
Turning her toward the door, he gave her a pat on the bottom and a gentle shove. “Go to your Master. For all he pretends to be different, ye know vampires get in a high do if they have to wait.”
The last thing she’d wanted was to leave him after that astounding declaration, but she wanted Evan, too. So she went, because her Master had ordered her to his side.
Her mind was spinning over the other things Niall had said. Up until now, she hadn’t allowed herself to think about it. It was easier to accept her inevitable death. But if she did miraculously survive, and was somehow released from Stephen’s mark to be reassigned? She imagined her return to the austere, regimented world of the vampire aristocracy, after experiencing Evan and Niall. She’d be leaving not just them, but the relationship they were developing with her.
The choice would not be hers, not any of it. But would she learn what it felt like to lose her heart entirely, the way Niall suggested? Stephen had fallen short of her expectations, but she’d accepted responsibility for that, knowing she’d assumed something that wasn’t in the typical vampire–servant relationship. She thought she’d evolved in her training. Instead, she’d simply buried what she wanted, and Evan and Niall had unearthed it in less than a week.
No matter the long penance sessions and doing everything to be the most obedient, most useful InhServ ever to Stephen, she’d watched vampire–servant pairings like that of Lady Lyssa and Jacob and fed that fuel to the tiny fire that had stayed alive deep in her heart.
Her training said nothing was about her wants or desires, but was it possible she would be a better servant if those wants and desires were taken into consideration? The InhServ program had always been about gifting an InhServ to a vampire showing political promise. Since they were all trained the same way, to be adaptable to whatever the vampire required, only the vampire’s preferences were considered. What if the program went more in-depth, considered variables in both InhServ and vampire, to make the relationship a more compatible one, beyond the services the servant was trained to offer?
She was turning into a radical. Though wryly amused, she was also a bit shaken by her thoughts. As she followed a path lit with solar lights toward where she felt Evan waiting for her, she did some calming mind exercises.
The colony’s layout added to that steadying influence. Cottages like theirs formed a loose, irregular circle around the main compound, which had a variety of functional buildings and open-air pavilions. Three of the former were obviously laid out for studio work, since she could see a variety of projects in process through the plethora of tall windows. One artist was still at work, her blowtorch throwing off a festive shower of sparks as she bent to her metal sculpting, her protective headgear in place.
The pavilions appeared to serve as communal areas as well as additional outdoor studio space. Groups of residents were playing cards at the assembled tables, others holding sleeping children on their laps as they chatted together. A group of staff members, wearing the dark embroidered shirt like Mel, were sharing a late dinner. They noticed Alanna, but she merely gave them a polite nod and continued onward. Unless they stopped her, it wasn’t appropriate to seek introductions until she determined what her Master required.
Her steps slowed despite herself when she passed the children’s playground. All the swings, mazes and climbing equipment were wooden carvings designed to look like mythical creatures, dinosaurs, trains. There were painted stone statues of fairies, comical gnomes and woodland animals, all of a size to encourage the children to touch or climb upon them. She let her hand slide along the arch of a unicorn’s neck before she recalled herself.
Among the trees bordering her paved path she was surprised by the occasional face, wooden pieces pinned to the trunks to create remarkably human expressions. Shrubs had been pruned into the shapes of fauns, unicorns, a car. These artistic touches were blended into the natural thick forest border around the compound, such that locating them became a treasure hunt.
At the crest of the path the forest opened up before her. A mowed, grassy field sloped down to a large pond, where the docks were stocked with paddleboats and canoes. The moon hung low over it, creating a silver lake, and the light pointed her to her destination.
Cutting off the path, she headed across the tended field. He waited for her inside a large gazebo, meeting her on the steps with a half smile. When he reached out a hand to help her up those stairs, she hesitated as she always did from the unexpected offer of assistance, but it was barely a pause, since she was eager for his touch. His eyes warmed on her.
“Nerida and Miah will join us shortly, but I figured you’d need a few minutes to get across the compound. Even with your eye for detail, in daylight you’ll find you missed half of it. The children call the perimeter paths The Enchanted Forest.”
“I can’t imagine how you ever bring yourself to leave.” Of course, she could say that for every place he’d taken her thus far.
He winked. “Mel kicks me out when I overstay my welcome.”
She suspected his art drove him ever onward to see new things, but he likely returned to this place when the ideas were overflowing, so he could execute them in familiar surroundings.
Always insightful, beautiful InhServ. This is a place of refuge, in many ways.
As he guided her into the gazebo, she saw art mounted on the interior walls, the piece directly before her catching her eye. It had been protected in a glass box, the lighting positioned around it making it clear to the viewer at night.
“This is your work.” Alanna drew closer. “But it’s different, and not just because it’s paint. What did you do?”
“Highlighted what was already there.” Evan moved to stand just behind her, his hip brushing her buttock. When she turned her head to look up at him, her hair fluttered across his shoulder, moved by the wind coming from across the lake. She made a move to draw it back, but he captured her hand, held it against his chest, though his eyes were on the canvas.
“You’re familiar with the saying, ‘we don’t see the forest for the trees’?” When she nodded, he added, “It works the opposite way as well. You look at a forest, but do you see the trees? Do you really see them?”
He pointed. “Each has a different shape, different leaves, even if they’re the same species. Some have been scarred by lightning or a bear’s claws during their lives, and that causes them to grow differently. They even respond differently to the touch of the wind, based on the shape of the trunks, the weight of the limbs. We don’t notice because we lack time, patience. Yet sit in one spot and watch, listen, notice, and you see it, how incredibly individual every single thing in life is. And yet”—he stepped back, taking her with him—“in key ways, very much the same. They all reach toward the light, though of course in this picture it’s moonlight.”
When she glanced at him, his gray eyes were intent on the work, studying what he’d done, what he could do better, though he kept speaking. “They all drive their roots into the ground to hold on to their space, to draw strength and nourishment. However, some go deeper than the others. As they grow up, their roots overlap. For some, it’s like fingers tangling together. Others tie knots.”
He drew her attention to a separate canvas, directly below that one. Whereas the upper one showed the forest above ground, the lower one showed what was happening beneath the earth. How the roots did become like fingers or, in the case of thicker tubers, like bodies. Bodies twined in passion or in a fetal waiting position, the nest of roots around them becoming the womb. Another shape was bound up in the more ropelike roots as if bound by a Master, waiting for whatever he desired. And then . . .
She bent to examine it more closely. At the very bottom of the lower canvas, near his signature, was a tiny, whiskered mole, working blindly on his small tunnel, oblivious to all of it.
“As long as you’ve lived, you could have painted historic events, but you seem to paint . . . everything else.” She didn’t mean it as an insult, and fortunately, he didn’t seem to take it as such. He shrugged.
“I’ve seen some amazing work. I’ve been to the Louvre, I’ve been to Rome . . . What I saw there was amazing, but it was intended for display, much of it commissioned. That doesn’t make it less remarkable, but what always interested me was the type of art created when it was simply what called to the artist. In a little, out-of-the-way church in the mountains of North Carolina, there’s a painting done by a nineteen-year-old, of Jesus laughing. When I looked at that, I thought, this is how it must be done, a direct conduit of the muse, no middleman of priest or art patron to interfere with that flow of pure energy.”
He nodded at the paintings. “As life grows short, it’s the small moments remembered, not what war was fought, or when the rocket went to the moon. It was the day you went to the beach with your mother, or a lover’s touch in a predawn light. The true history of the individual life. That’s what interests me.”
“Niall said almost the same thing.” Reading about the history you’ve lived, a lot of it is pure bollocks. Kings and politics. The things a man remembers and history forgets are home and family. That first kiss.
She straightened, still gazing at the picture. “You two are the most remarkable men I’ve ever met.”
Looking back, she found him staring at her oddly. Before she could open her mouth to apologize, he lifted her hand to his lips, kissed her palm. Her heart beat in her throat as he kept those mesmerizing eyes on her.
“I’m simply an eccentric vampire, Alanna. You are the remarkable one. Any artist would be lucky to have you as a muse.”
“You already have a muse.” Her fingers trembled under his touch. Her body had been used in every imaginable way, but whenever he did things like this, unmistakably romantic, she was as new to it as an innocent schoolgirl.
“I do?” He cocked a brow. “Is there another woman I’m overlooking?”
“Muses can be male, Master.” She paused. “His humanity, his sense of honor, his complex idea of love yet simple embrace of life . . . I see Niall in almost everything you’ve created.”
Her attention shifted to another work. It was a photograph, blown up to the size of the tree pictures, showing people standing on a busy nighttime street corner. Some smoked and talked, caught in dramatic gestures. One leaned on a lamppost next to a couple making out, wrapped up in each other. A tight knot of others focused on the light changing, all of them bathed in the city lights. Her gaze slid to the tree canvas, then back across. They weren’t identical, but the postures were so similar, it was impossible not to draw the connection.
“How did you . . . Did you pose them?”
“No. I took thousands of street corner shots for nearly a month. Niall helped me sift through all of them. Don’t get me started on his grumbling, because I had to clout him on the head to get him to shut up about it—but eventually I found one that was similar yet different enough to work.”
“I could look at your work all my life and never get tired of it,” she said honestly. Then, realizing that could be insulting, given that she didn’t have much life left, she added, “I wish I had a much longer life to do so.”
Evan knew why Niall reacted the way he did when she said things like that. Though he’d rarely responded as openly about it as Niall did, now his fingers tightened on hers, conveying his fierce reaction, his recurring wish that he had more power to change her destiny.
Shyly, showing how new it was to her to seek contact, Alanna reached up with trembling fingers, caressed his jaw. It was rare he’d felt held in place by a human’s touch, but Evan was now, moved by the deep, powerful feeling he saw in her eyes. She claimed to see something amazing and unexpected in his art. One-of-a-kind. All he had to do was look at her to see a living example of that.
He’d heard Niall’s words to her about losing his heart. At the time, he’d been glad to be elsewhere, so he had time to school his reaction to it. Yet now, when Niall’s declaration gripped his heart anew, he looked up and saw him there.
He’d been caught up in her emotions, hadn’t sensed his approach. As he met his servant’s gaze, he reached out a hand. At least in this moment, there was nothing between them except her.
Niall proved it, coming to him without hesitation, so that they held Alanna between them. It was as if with the wall of their bodies, they could keep her from harm. Evan put his arms around both of them, while Niall gripped Evan’s side, strong fingers stroking his hip. It was a painful yet precious peace, holding his two servants to him.
Whether you wish to hear it or not, Niall, I feel very much as you do about her. Pressing his head against Niall’s jaw, he put his temple against Alanna’s silken hair. And losing you will tear the heart out of me. The curse of being a vampire is that we absorb the blows we wish would kill us.
His servant’s grip tightened. Niall might actually crack his pelvic bone, but Evan would bear any pain to absorb the emotion behind the gesture.
You need to make sure she stays yours, Evan. You need each other.
Evan lifted his head. The Scot’s tawny gaze was full of things Evan wanted to capture, and not only in a painting. If he could internalize every gesture, emotion and thought, Niall could never leave him. His muse would be part of his mind forever. His soul.
I need you, Niall. I always have.
The Scot looked as if he was going to respond to that, then his attention shifted, as did Alanna’s. In a heartbeat, both servants stepped away and turned toward the entrance of the gazebo, an automatic united front.
It’s Miah and Nerida. But even if they were enemies, the proper response is to step behind me, both of you.
Niall gave him his patented look that said he was wasting his breath. Though Alanna lowered her gaze and stepped into a proper position behind him, Evan wasn’t fooled. Not after what she’d pulled with the Trad. Servants. A blessed pain in his ass.
Niall shifted to his left, not as far behind him as Alanna, but enough to pass for proper etiquette, given that the vampires coming out of the shadows knew what kind of servant he was.
Oh, and Niall? As far as houghmagandie, it’s only Christians who think sex for pleasure is sinful. Jews think it’s just fine.
Aye? Well, ye also think eating a pig is wrong, and bacon is a God-given treasure.
Alanna choked on a snicker, looking mortified with herself, but sharing their conversation had achieved Evan’s desired result. Niall was grinning, and the seriousness of the moment had been eased. He turned his attention to the approaching vampires.
Miah and Nerida were mixed-blood, white and Aborigine. People often thought they were sisters, but the trauma of their making had made them kin, not blood. As he’d warned Alanna, Miah appeared to be an adolescent, Nerida no more than six, but their body language, the mature wisdom in their eyes, reflected their seventy-plus years. However, when needed for deception and survival, both could emulate children flawlessly.
Lord Mason had chosen a good place. Farida Sanctuary was a stimulating and stable environment for them. Nerida was a successful author, published under a pseudonym, and Miah was working on her second Masters in literature. With their shared love of stories, they were the bards of the sanctuary. They regularly offered bedtime stories in the communal pavilion to a rapt crowd. When needed, they made house calls to the cottages, soothing an anxious new arrival to sleep, whether woman or child, with their enchanting tales.
Nerida skipped up the stairs and jumped so Niall caught her in his arms and swung her around. “What’s this?” the Scot demanded. “A kitten with fangs and big brown eyes who can entice a lad to do anything.”
As she hugged him, Evan saw her check her fangs with her tongue, making sure Niall hadn’t remarked on them because they were showing. They weren’t able to retract them like mature vampires, but Lord Brian had taught them how to file them back.
She punched Niall’s shoulder, seeing from his dancing gaze he’d intended to make her self-conscious. “Not you. Head harder than rock.”
“In the Highlands, there are rocks that could knock some sense into me, sure enough. That’s why I left and never went back. A man with too much sense willnae get into trouble with the lasses, and what fun is that?”
Miah gave him and Evan both a hug. “Do you like where we put your paintings? Quite a few of our visiting artists use this space as a studio. Your work inspires their own creations. ‘Nature never hurries. Atom by atom, little by little, she achieves her work.’”
“Emerson is one of my personal favorites,” Evan approved. “As always, coming here is like coming home. ‘Discovering this idyllic place, we find ourselves filled with a yearning to linger here, where time stands still and beauty overwhelms.’ Anonymous, but a good friend to Emerson. As you are a good friend to me, and not just because you stroke my vanity by displaying my work.”
“Actually,” Niall drawled, “there were a couple ugly paint-stripped spots in here. They thought ‘well, now, that’s what we can do with Evan’s eyesores.’”
Though he ducked Evan’s head slap with the smoothness of long practice, Alanna tag-teamed with her Master, jabbing him in the ribs. The Scot gave her a heated look. “Hit me once more tonight, lass, and I’ll hit back, on the spot o’ my choosing.”
When Miah and Nerida turned their attention to her, Alanna knelt. “Mistresses, thank you for your hospitality to my Master. In accordance with his will, I am at your service.”
Miah snorted. “What did this poor child do to deserve you two? She’s obviously way above your station, Evan.”
Evan laughed. “She had an overdose of courage and integrity. We were her punishment.”
Alanna was appalled by Miah’s comment, but Evan’s good humor eased her mind. However, when he began to summarize her situation, the vampire females sobered and her tension returned. A quick glance at their faces told her nothing. When Evan finished, there was a harrowing moment of silence in the gazebo. Alanna twisted her fingers together in her lap.
“It’s not too far off the path of what we already do here,” Miah said at last. “Protect a female from the violent advances of male relatives or spouse. Sometimes, shamefully, even the female relatives try to extricate them. We’ve been fortunate, though. The only time we’ve lost one was when the resident is so damaged, she goes back to the situation on her own. I assume Alanna has no intentions of assisting Stephen in locating her?”
She didn’t look at Alanna, making it clear this was a vampire conversation. It didn’t stop Niall from interjecting, however.
“Only if she gets the misguided idea it will protect us,” he snorted. “In which case, I’ll strangle her before Stephen can do it.”
Alanna bit her lip, but said nothing. The unavoidable truth was that there was no command that would force her to endanger anyone further to protect her own life.
Evan shot her a sharp look. “Then I expect we’ll need to ensure that scenario doesn’t occur.” Though it appeared he was responding to Niall, she knew differently, especially when Niall sent her a censorious look, indicating Evan had shared her thought.
“Well, our gates aren’t for us to hide behind,” Nerida said. “They’re to better defend and protect what’s here.”
When the female vampire glanced at her, Alanna bowed her head anew. It was difficult not to stare when a mature woman’s speech came from the bow-shaped mouth of a six-year-old child. Miah at least had some of the angular features of an adolescent about to step across the threshold to womanhood.
“We’ll advise Mel and increase our own security measures,” Nerida continued. “It sounds like we have reinforcements on standby.”
“Yes. The Council vampire will be patrolling the perimeter. It’s our hope he’ll apprehend Stephen before the situation crosses our path.”
“Regardless, consider yourself welcome, Evan. You and those you protect.” Miah gave him a nod. “Niall of course is always welcome. A to-do list is already waiting for him.”
“For the usual compensation I suppose?” When Niall arched a brow, the two female vampires grinned, showing fangs this time.
“They started cooking a week ago. You’ll be so fat Evan will leave you behind. Then you’ll never be out of our clutches.”
“Promises, promises, ladies.”
Miah rubbed against him like an affectionate cat. “Mel just went off shift. She has that list ready if you want to get an early look at it.” Affecting a passable Scottish accent, she added, “Though we willnae be needing ye ’til the morrow.”
The Scot got a nod of assent from Evan. When Niall looked toward Alanna, she made sure she was looking at the floor. I serve them. They do not serve me.
Niall touched her hair. Alanna put all her effort into brushing her lips across his palm with the proper devotion and full submission. “I’ll take care of the things at the cabin,” she managed. “And be there if you need anything.”
She pushed away the thought of his flesh carrying the musk of another woman’s body. I am a servant. I serve. That is my pleasure, my only desire . . .
Hearing him leave the gazebo, the boards vibrating as he descended the steps, made things hurt inside of her. Fortunately, his departure gave her an excuse for her own. “Master, do you need me further, or should I attend to the cottage?”
“You’re excused, Alanna.” The gentle understanding made it more unbearable, but she bowed to the vampire females and left the gazebo before her reaction could choke her. How far she’d fallen, that her emotions could command her in such an irrational way. Evan, being a vampire, would thankfully leave her alone to manage the reality of being a servant.
Because who understood that reality better than her?