Chapter Nineteen
Neona paced back and forth in her house, too agitated to sleep. It had been a huge shock to find out that Zoltan had inherited a gift from his mother. What if Minerva’s son had inherited her gift?
“I’m so sorry.” Neona touched her sister’s pillow. “I shouldn’t have let Mother take away your son. I should have rebelled then.” Instead of waiting till now. Now, when Minerva was gone.
Tears burned Neona’s eyes, and she angrily wiped them away. Why had it taken so long for her to see the truth? Was it because of Zoltan? She shook her head. No, she’d already suspected her mother of lying. And she’d hated the way Minerva had been forced to give up her son. The seed of rebellion had already taken root inside her. Zoltan’s arrival had just caused it to burst into full bloom. Each time she tried to explain their way of life to him, she caught a glimpse of it through his eyes, and things she’d accepted before seemed suddenly strange. Wrong.
She paced toward the fireplace. How was Minerva’s son faring? Was he happy? Or did he feel abandoned? Unloved? God help her, she didn’t even know what name he’d been given. She needed to find him, but he was thirty miles away at a Buddhist monastery.
Could Zoltan teleport her there? And if he did, would she have the courage to bring the boy back here to his rightful home? No doubt the queen would be livid. It was a severe breach of their laws to allow a human male to live in Beyul-La. The queen was only tolerating Zoltan until he impregnated her.
But who had come up with these laws? Had it been part of the original pact, like the queen said, or was it a decision she’d made afterward? Had she excluded men simply because she hated them? Or did she fear that someday a gifted male child would grow up and challenge her position as ruler?
There was no way to know. The pact had been made with the three original women—Nima, Dohna, and Anjali. Only Nima remained.
Neona paced faster as her anger grew, not just anger at her mother but anger at herself as well. For centuries, she’d considered herself a brave warrior, always fighting to protect the secrets of Beyul-La. But the truth was she’d been a coward.
It seemed pathetic that just a few days ago, she had panicked out of fear of having and losing a son. Now she was filled with a new, hardened determination. There was no way on earth she would allow a child of hers, boy or girl, to be given away. If she decided to have children with Zoltan, nothing would stop her!
Except his dead seed. Her pacing stopped with a jerk. Could she heal his dead seed? She looked at her hands. If she touched his male parts enough, could she heal him?
She inhaled sharply as a new idea sprang to mind. Could the Living Water bring his seed back to life? It was against their law to give the water to a human male, but to hell with that. She was already considering bringing Minerva’s son here to live. If she could break that law, why not break them all? Why not marry Zoltan and have all the sons and daughters she wanted?
She peeked outside. It was still raining, but with the mood she was in, a little rain was not about to stop her. A small army wouldn’t stop her. She put her damp tunic back on, then dashed to the storeroom where they kept all their dishes, pottery, linens, food, firewood, and medical supplies. She’d spent enough time in the small building over the years to know her way around in the dark. She searched the shelf where empty bowls and jugs were kept and selected a small clay flask with a cork in the top.
The wind and rain buffeted her as she ran toward the cave. Her leather slippers splashed through puddles till they were soaked through. As she neared the entrance, she slowed down, easing around the boulders silently, listening for any voices.
It was quiet. She peeked inside. The throne room was well lit with torches, and it was empty, except for Zhan, who rested close to the entrance. He sat up and tilted his head, giving her a curious and concerned look that touched her heart.
“Good kitty,” she whispered, patting him on the head. “Don’t tell anyone I was here, okay?”
He butted her leg.
The other women had to be in the back cavern with the young ones. No doubt the storm had frightened the young ones, and with good reason. They had lost many an ancestor to the lightning and strong winds that accompanied a storm.
Neona kicked off her leather slippers so she wouldn’t leave a muddy trail straight to the pool. Her tunic was dripping, so she took it off, too, and left it by the entrance. Then she ran past the area where they held their meetings and past the throne, until she reached the dark, glistening pool. Hunching down beside the water, she uncorked the small flask and filled it. Then she corked it and scurried back to the entrance.
One glance back, and she groaned. She’d still left a few small puddles. Zhan trotted up to the biggest one and flopped down in it, rubbing his back against the stone till his fur had soaked up most of the water.
She smiled as she slipped her tunic and slippers back on. Her pet ran back to her and butted her leg.
“You’re the best kitty in the world.” She gave him a hug, then slipped back outside into the rain.
She ran home, then hid the flask in the wooden chest at the foot of her bed. During the day, when Zoltan was in his death-sleep, she would slip some of the Living Water into his bottles of blood.
After putting another log on the fire, she peeled off her wet clothes, then toweled herself dry. Just as she was leaning over her open wooden chest to retrieve some clean clothes, she heard a voice behind her.
“Now that’s a beautiful sight. Hold that position.”
She spun around, her clean clothes clutched to her chest. “You’re back.”
Zoltan smiled as he kicked off his shoes and dropped his belongings on top of his chest. “I was afraid you’d be asleep.” His gaze drifted over her while he removed his jacket.
The intense way he looked at her made her stomach quiver. “I was getting ready for bed.”
“Good.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it on his bed. “We have some unfinished business.” He stepped toward her, his eyes darkening. “Nine more climaxes. Nine more positions.”
Her eyes widened. “Surely you don’t expect to do all that in one night?”
He unfastened his pants. “I’ve always prided myself on never quitting a task till it’s done.”
“I see.” Her heart thudded loudly in her ears. “Well, I would certainly hate to damage your pride.”
His mouth curled up. “How thoughtful of you. One might get the idea that you care about me.”
Her heart squeezed in her chest. “Can we truly belong to each other, Zoltan? A vampire and a—?”
“An old crone?” His smile widened.
With a snort she tossed her clean clothes back into her wooden chest. “Do I look like an old crone to you?”
His smile faded as his gaze traveled down her body. By the time his eyes met hers once again, they were red and glowing.
Moisture gathered between her legs. Her skin tingled, just knowing she had such an immediate effect on him. He dropped his pants to the floor and kicked them aside. The bulge in his underwear was blatant. Maybe she should start trying to heal him tonight.
She reached for the waistband of his underwear, but he spun her around to face her wooden chest. He dropped the lid, then bent her over it, planting her hands on top.
“What are you doing?” She glanced over her shoulder. He was leaning over her, his chest against her back and his erection pressed against her rump.
“This is position number two,” he whispered in her ear as he nudged her legs apart with a bare foot.
Her knees trembled, and more moisture seeped from her core. Whatever he was doing, she wanted it.
His hands trailed up her arms, then swept her hair over a shoulder so her back was bare. “Beautiful.” He kissed the back of her neck, then nibbled a trail down her spine. His hands cupped her breasts, his fingers gently teasing her nipples.
She shivered, digging her fingers into the wooden chest.
He reached the small of her back and ran his tongue up the indentation of her spine. With a moan, she arched.
When would he touch her? She needed his touch. She rubbed her rump against his groin. “Please.”
He grasped her hips, holding her steady. “I love this.” His hands smoothed up to her narrow waist, then back down the flare of her hips. “You’re so beautiful.”
Her legs trembled, and she locked her knees to keep from falling. “Zoltan,” she whispered. “Please.”
“Yes.” He leaned over to trail nibbling kisses over her rear end. She gasped when his hand slipped between her legs. Oh, God, yes. Finally.
“So wet.”
She whimpered at the feel of his fingers. Insistent, bold, possessive.
“This time I want to be inside you.” He inserted a finger.
She cried out. He plunged another finger inside her, stroking her, tickling her. She gasped for air, moaning and rocking against him. Tension spiraled inside her, climbing higher and higher till she shattered.
With another cry, her knees collapsed, and he held her up, supporting her with his free arm while she throbbed against his fingers.
She was still hazy when he tossed her on the bed and flipped her over.
“Position number three.” He spread her legs, then settled between them, his face just inches away from her wet, swollen flesh.
“Wait!”
He propped himself up on his elbows, and a corner of his mouth curled up. “Do you need a break?”
“I-I think we need to reconsider the—”
“Ten climaxes with no biting, and then you would trust me. That was the deal.”
“Yes.” She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. “But I think there is a flaw—”
“Looks perfect to me.”
The rascal was studying her womanly parts. And with his face only inches away, he was certainly getting a good view. She’d never felt so exposed before. Nor this excited. Just knowing that he was watching made her skin tingle and her core ache to be touched. “What kind of position is this? Do you plan to stare at me till I climax?”
His smile widened. “Do you think that would work?”
“You’re smirking again.”
“And ogling.” He inched closer. “You’re so wet, you’re glistening in the firelight.”
She swallowed hard as more moisture seeped from her. Good Lord, it was working. She could feel the tension inside her coiling tighter and tighter.
“And your scent is driving me wild,” he continued.
Her hands fisted in the sheet. “As I was saying, there is a flaw in your thinking. It’s not my—” She gasped when his tongue swept over her wet, swollen skin.
“You were saying?”
Good Lord, she’d never imagined anything like this. “Yes, I—” She jerked when he licked an especially sensitive part.
“Something about a flaw? Should I stop?”
“No!”
“That’s my girl.” He grasped her hips to hold her steady, then drew her sensitive part into his mouth and suckled.
She screamed as another climax seized her, shaking her violently. By the time she could see straight, he was lying beside her on the bed.
“Are you all right?” He brushed her hair back from her face.
“Are you sure you’re not trying to kill me?”
He kissed her brow. “Just trying to earn your trust. That’s three climaxes without my fangs popping out.”
She inhaled deeply to clear her mind. “As much as I’m enjoying your plan, I don’t think it’s going to work.”
He stiffened. “What?”
“Giving me climaxes is not the right way to test your control. It’s your climaxes I’m worried about. That’s when you would lose control and bite me.” She sat up. “That’s the flaw I was talking about earlier.”
He frowned. “I had a climax at the waterfall and didn’t bite you.”
“That is true.” She glanced down at his underwear where his erection strained against the fabric. “But I think I should test you again. Just to make sure.”
He scoffed. “You shouldn’t play with a loaded dick. I’m about to explode.”
“You’re my prisoner. I can do whatever I like.” She gave him a wry look. “Shall I tie you to the bedpost?”
“I’ll manage not to strangle you.”
“That’s my guy.”
He snorted. “This is payback, isn’t it? You want to torture me.”
With a smile, she pulled down his underwear, and his penis sprang free. Her breath caught. He was huge. And gloriously erect. All his male parts were completely engaged, so this was the perfect time to attempt to heal his seed. After a few minutes of therapy, she would bring him to climax and test his control of his fangs.
She cupped his balls and gave them a squeeze. Then she wrapped her other hand around his rigid staff. He hissed in a breath. A bead of moisture seeped from the crown, and she rubbed it with her thumb. He did look like he was ready to explode. She’d have to hurry.
Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the healing ability deep inside her. It rushed down her arms, settling into her fingers with a familiar tingle.
He shuddered beneath her. No doubt he was feeling a slight vibration. She increased her power, then opened herself to take away any illness inside him.
With a rush, his sensations swept up her arms to her chest. She gasped, her eyes opening wide. This wasn’t illness. Instantly she was shocked with a powerful, electric current of raw desire and desperation. It shot down to her core and ignited a series of spasms that rocked her so hard that she cried out and fell back onto the bed.
With a hoarse shout, Zoltan jolted beside her and climaxed.
Slowly her heart stopped thundering. Her core stopped throbbing. Her eyes focused, and she saw Zoltan sitting beside her. He’d taken her discarded towel and was wiping himself clean.
She sat up. “Are you all right?”
He glanced at her, and with a gasp, she scooted back. His fangs were out.
“I’m not going to bite you.” He tossed the towel on the floor. “I didn’t expect to lose control. I never have before, but that was the biggest damned orgasm I’ve ever had. What did you do?”
“I was trying to heal you.” She winced. “I thought I was taking in your pain, but I . . . I think I shared your climax.”
He snorted. “You more than shared it. You amplified it.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
He laughed, and his fangs slid back into place. “Nothing to be sorry about. Damn. That was intense.” He laughed again. “That’s one hell of a gift you have. God, I’m starving.” He hurried to the box that contained his bottles of blood and guzzled one down.
He set the empty bottle back into the box and opened a second one. “I know I should be cuddling you and reminding you how much I love you, but under the circumstances, I think I’d better make sure I’m not hungry.”
She smiled, knowing he was doing his best to protect her.
He drank half the second bottle, then gave her a wry look. “If I can survive a mega-climax like that without biting you, then I think you can consider yourself safe. Do you trust me now?”
Her gaze drifted over him as he stood there gloriously naked, sipping blood from a bottle. “Yes.”
He smiled, then drank some more.
She pulled the sheet up to her chest, then lounged back against the pillows, enjoying the view and the sleepy hum of satisfaction that still tingled along the length of her body. “Could you teleport me somewhere tomorrow?”
“Sure.” He took another sip. “Where would you like to go? Paris? Venice? My castle in Transylvania?”
She shook her head. “A Buddhist monastery about thirty miles from here.”
“Ah. You want to see your sister’s son.” He screwed the top back on the bottle. “Do you think he inherited a gift?”
“It doesn’t matter if he did or didn’t. He’s still my nephew. And if he’ll accept me, I hope to become his mother.” She bit her lip, wondering how Zoltan would react to that.
His eyes softened. “You’ll be an excellent mother.”
Her heart squeezed. How could she not love this man? A wave of peaceful drowsiness swept over her. Life was good. “If Minerva’s son has a gift, I’ll know with one look at him. I should have known you were gifted with your amber eyes, but it never occurred to me that men could be gifted.”
“What do you mean?” He approached the bed and sat down beside her.
“You have the same-colored eyes as Tashi and Lydia.” Neona yawned and settled deeper into bed. “It’s a sign that you can communicate with animals. Freya’s eyes are green, which means she can make plants grow and flourish.”
“Then your blue eyes mean you’re a healer?”
Neona nodded. “Calliope had blue eyes like me.”
“And your mother has golden eyes.”
“Winifred, too.” Neona yawned again and closed her eyes. “They can communicate with winged creatures.”
“Go ahead and sleep.” He kissed her brow. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow, she thought as she drifted off. With Zoltan, she could have an eternity of tomorrows.
It was near dawn when Zoltan’s superior hearing caught the sound of voices outside. He’d spent the last few hours cuddling Neona in bed, listening to her soft breathing while she slept. The rain had stopped, so apparently the women had left the cave. That meant he might have a chance to sneak inside the cave before the sun rose.
He quickly dressed and slipped an empty bottle into his jacket pocket. Then he teleported behind Neona’s house and peered around the corner.
In the dim moonlight, he spotted the queen, Lydia, Tashi, and the pet snow leopard by the central fire pit, which was now a heap of wet ashes. Winifred and Freya emerged from the storeroom, their arms filled with dry firewood and kindling. They dropped their load onto the fire pit.
It seemed obvious they were going to start a new fire. And probably cook breakfast. Zoltan glanced over at the cave entrance. This was his best chance to go inside.
Just as he was about to teleport, a figure ran from the cave. Zoltan stiffened with surprise. It was a boy. In Beyul-La? Weren’t males forbidden here?
The queen greeted the boy with a smile and a hug. What the hell? Why was this boy welcome here, when Minerva’s son had been given away?
The women discussed something in Tibetan. Zoltan couldn’t understand, but it was clear they were giving the boy encouraging words and smiles. He nodded, then closed his eyes as if he was concentrating. He took a few deep breaths, then opened his eyes and mouth. A streak of fire shot from his mouth, striking the firewood and setting it ablaze.
Zoltan gasped. Luckily, the sound wasn’t heard. The women were too busy clapping and congratulating the boy. The queen gave him another hug.
What the bloody hell? Zoltan pressed back against the stone wall, his mind racing. Who was this boy? Did he live in the cave? Didn’t the leopard tell him that males weren’t allowed in the cave?
Human males. Shit! Of course the boy wasn’t human. What human could breathe fire?
The first tug of death-sleep pulled at Zoltan. That meant he had about seven minutes before sunrise. He could figure this mess out later. For now, he’d better take his chance at getting inside the cave.
He teleported to the entrance and peered inside. No one in sight. The giant room was lit with a few torches slid into brackets on the cave walls. Light flickered over the glistening pink- and-cream-colored stalactites that extended from the high ceiling.
He eased inside. Far to the left, he spotted a stash of weapons and armor. The new swords and arrows he’d given them were there. In the center, a large throne chair sat. Toward the back, he noted the dark, glimmering pool. The Living Water trickled from a fissure in the rock wall, then fell into the pool below.
He squatted beside the pool and filled his bottle. As he screwed the top back on, he heard a voice outside. The queen. Was she bringing the mysterious boy back?
He looked around, wondering where the boy lived. There, on the far side of the pool, a narrow corridor led into the heart of the mountain.
With vampire speed, he rushed down the corridor. It grew darker, but with his superior night vision, he could see the sudden turn to his left, then another to the right.
He stopped, his mouth dropping open. The room before him was dimly lit with a few torches. And it was huge. The size of several soccer fields. So many stalactites were growing across the wide expanse of the ceiling that it resembled a giant upside-down forest.
He eased inside. Was this where the boy lived? Zoltan circled to the right, staying close to the wall and hiding behind the stalagmites that lined the perimeter of the huge cavern. Apparently, any other stalagmites had been knocked down, for the vast expanse of the floor was smooth.
The queen’s voice echoed in the narrow corridor. Zoltan looked around for the likeliest place to hide, then teleported to the stalactite forest overhead. As soon as he materialized, he levitated to keep himself hovering close to the ceiling. Most of the stalactites were twelve feet or more in length, so he was well hidden in the dark recesses between them.
The queen entered the giant room with the boy, who skipped happily over to the wall on the left. There, Zoltan spotted a row of pallets. The boy settled in one, drawing a blanket up to his chest.
The queen hunched down beside him, and with a smile, she tucked him in. Two more children sat up, and she glanced their way. No words were spoken, but Zoltan could sense there was a conversation going on.
Queen Nima hurried over to them and gave them reassuring hugs. The children clung to her as if she were their mother.
Zoltan frowned, not sure he could believe his eyes. This was the coldhearted bitch who was always threatening to kill him? The grandmother who had ruthlessly given away Minerva’s son? Why was she here, mothering these children with such tenderness?
As far as he could tell, there were two boys and one girl. The boy who had breathed fire looked about twelve, while the other two appeared about half his age. There were more pallets in the row, but they were empty. The queen settled on the first and largest pallet, and they all went to sleep.
Another tug of death-sleep pulled at Zoltan and his levitation slipped, dropping him down a few inches. He shook himself. He’d have to teleport back to Neona’s house soon. He pivoted, scanning the large cavern to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.
There, behind some stalagmites, was another corridor with a light inside. He teleported to the corridor and eased quietly down the narrow path.
Another room lay before him. A much smaller room with only one torch. He passed by a heap of hay, hollowed out in the center like a giant nest. It was empty. A second one was also empty. He came to a stop. There were three more nests. And inside were eggs. Large eggs. Two in the third nest. Three in the next one, and two more in the final one.
Death-sleep tugged at him once more, but he shook it off and stepped closer to the eggs. No bird was this big. What the hell was going on?
He glanced at the two empty nests. Had the sleeping children come from those nests? No, that couldn’t be right. Since when did children come out of eggs?
Confused, he teleported back to Neona’s house. He only had a minute or so left, and he still needed to spike his blood supply with the Living Water. There were six bottles in the ice chest. One empty, and another half empty. He opened all six, then poured blood from the full ones into the other two. Soon he had six bottles about three-quarters full. He topped them off with the Living Water, then shook each bottle and put them back into the ice chest.
With that job done, his thoughts returned to the children in the cave. Clearly, they weren’t normal. Or even human. The oldest one could breathe fire. And they all seemed to communicate silently with the queen. What was her gift? The special gift that allowed her to be queen and made Winifred the heir to the throne. An ability to communicate with . . . birds?
Death-sleep pulled at him harder, and he stumbled toward Neona’s bed. What was the term she had used? Not birds.
Winged creatures.
He glanced at the fireplace that was lined with the odd black tiles. A scale, Milan had called it. A cross between a turtle shell and a reptile scale. But too large. Much too large for an iguana.
A winged creature. With scales. That could breathe fire?
He inhaled sharply. It couldn’t be.
Death-sleep gripped him, and he collapsed onto Neona’s bed. “Neona, wake up.” He shook her shoulder.
She moaned. “Not another climax . . .”
“Not that.” Death-sleep crept over him, making it difficult to talk. Or even think. “The big secret . . . the pact you made . . . are you protecting . . . dragons?”
With another moan, she rolled over.
An intense pain struck Zoltan in the chest. The pain of death. So close to Neona. He reeled away from her, falling off the bed and landing with a thud on the floor.
The pain subsided as he fell into a pit of darkness.