Chapter Sixteen
The boy was near death, his body bleeding and bruised, an angry red burn seared across his back. Neona moved her hands over the gashes and bruises, taking in as much of his pain as she could endure. In the distance, where the village and castle were located, smoke billowed into the sky. The stench of burning bodies made her choke. Gathering up her courage, she reached for the red burn on his back.
Suddenly, he grabbed her, pulling her down and rolling on top of her. It was Zoltan, grown up and smiling at her in the way that always made her stomach quiver. “Neona,” he whispered. “It’s time to give you that first climax.”
She woke with a jolt. Then a groan. Her head hurt. She was lying on top of her comforter with her knees hugged to her chest. She glanced at the other bed. Zoltan was there, still and quiet. With another groan, she slowly stretched out her legs. They were stiff and achy from sleeping hunched up in a ball.
She sat up. Her white silk gown was a wrinkled mess. She should have taken it off before sleeping, but she hadn’t dared undress in front of Zoltan. He was lying on his side, facing her, barely visible in the dim light that filtered into the room around the door and windows.
It was daylight outside. She’d spent the night with a vampire. And she’d survived without a single bite mark.
She eased out of bed, her stiff legs protesting. He appeared to be sleeping. Death-sleep, he’d called it. She remembered how Russell had sizzled when sunlight had touched his body.
Alarmed, she lurched toward him to make sure he was all right. A sliver of light illuminated a narrow strip down his bed about a foot from his back. If he rolled over, he might get burned. She checked his back and exhaled with relief. No injuries.
The arrow wound was almost completely healed. Only a red mark remained where the puncture hole had been. She pressed her fingers to his neck. No pulse. She winced. Was he really dead? How could he be dead when his body was healing itself? For the change to occur, there had to be some part of him still alive. She’d heard stories of Buddhist monks who could slow their heartbeat to the point it was no longer discernible. Perhaps that was what happened to vampires.
She gave him a little shake, but there was no reaction. He was unresponsive. Defenseless and vulnerable. And he was trusting her to keep him safe. Her heart squeezed in her chest. He trusted her. And God help her, she wanted to trust him. The attraction was still there. The yearning. Her feelings had taken a shock when she’d realized he was a vampire, but they hadn’t withered away.
His eyes were shut, with a line of thick eyelashes that were so pretty, her fingers itched to touch him. She brushed his shoulder-length hair back from his brow. His hair was soft and silky. She ran a fingertip over his eyebrow, then down his whiskered jaw to his square chin. A stubborn chin, she thought with a smile. And a wide, sensual mouth. She touched his lips. Too gorgeous.
Too dangerous. Her gaze drifted down his muscled chest to the waistband of his underwear, low on his hips. She could see the outline of his long legs underneath the sheet. So he thought he could earn her trust, one climax at a time. She snorted. The rascal would come up with a plan like that.
Her gaze shifted back to the arrow wound. Instead of teleporting away, he’d taken the hit to protect her. He’d tried to protect her from her pet leopard, too. And even though he could have stayed in the safety of his own home, he’d returned to be with her. No matter how many times she tried to discourage him, he refused to give up on her. With a sigh, she realized he’d been earning her trust all along.
She removed the white silk gown and lay it over the back of a chair. Then she wrapped a plain linen robe over the white silk shift that Tashi had insisted she wear, claiming it was easy to rip. With her legs still stiff, she hobbled over to each window and pulled the thick woolen curtains shut, making sure they blocked out any light. The room grew darker. The fire in the hearth had died out.
At the door, she slipped on her leather slippers, then carefully opened the door, making sure no sunlight fell on Zoltan. She slipped outside, grimacing at the bright light.
“You’re up!” Someone called from the central fire pit.
Shielding her eyes from the sun’s glare, Neona spotted Tashi, Freddie, and Freya sitting around the fire.
“We’ve been watching your house since sunrise.” Tashi regarded her curiously. “There hasn’t been a sound.”
“It’s already afternoon,” Freddie said. “You missed breakfast and lunch.”
“Are you all right?” Freya asked.
Neona nodded. “We were asleep.”
“Worn out, huh?” Freya exchanged a grin with the other two.
Neona headed toward the outhouse, her stiff legs protesting.
“Good heavens,” Freddie whispered loudly. “She can hardly walk.”
“He must have been good,” Tashi said, and they all laughed.
Neona groaned and kept walking.
“Should we take him a tray of food?” Freddie called after her.
“No!” Neona whirled to face them. Their surprised expressions made her realize she’d overreacted. “He’s asleep now. I’ll feed him later.” Wincing, she resumed her walk to the outhouse.
“She seems a bit . . . possessive,” Freya said.
“Doesn’t even want us to look at him,” Freddie added.
“He must have been damned good,” Tashi muttered, and the others laughed again.
Neona hurried to the outhouse, then washed her hands and face in the stream before returning to the central fire pit, where Freya was stirring a pot near the fire.
“We’ve kept the soup hot for you and your man.”
“His name is Zoltan.” Neona glanced at her house before taking a seat.
“We figure it’s best not to get too familiar with him,” Tashi murmured.
Because they believed they would have to kill him, Neona thought. Luckily, if they tried to execute Zoltan, he could teleport away. But only at night. He was helpless now, and she was his only protection.
“Here.” Freya ladled some hot soup into an earthenware bowl, then added a lump of sticky rice. “You must be hungry.”
“Thanks.” Neona looked around. “Where are the others?”
“My mother’s asleep,” Tashi said, referring to Lydia. “She guarded your house all night.”
“The queen is busy in the cave,” Freddie added.
Neona nodded, then spooned some soup broth into her mouth. Soon she would need to tell everyone that Zoltan was a vampire. But she’d better wait till nighttime, when he could defend himself or teleport away, in case the news didn’t go over well.
“So how was it?” Freya whispered. “We’ve been dying to know.”
“If you don’t mind talking about it,” Freddie added with a hopeful look.
Tashi snorted. “As if we don’t know what they were doing. Did he rip your shift off?”
Neona used her wooden spoon to break up the lump of rice in her soup. “Nothing happened.”
“What?” All three women gasped.
“He was . . . weak and running a fever. Because of the wound. He needs rest, so don’t go in there. I’ll nurse him back to health.” Neona stood, careful not to spill any soup. “I’ll give him some of this. Thanks.” As she walked toward her house, the women talked in hushed voices.
“I can’t believe it,” Freya whispered.
“I know,” Tashi agreed. “He couldn’t even do it?”
Freddie huffed. “I thought he was stronger than that.”
Neona winced. Thank God Zoltan’s pride was as dead as he was at the moment. She slipped inside the house, quickly shutting the door behind her. He was still stretched out on Minerva’s bed, barely visible in the dark.
She set the bowl of soup on the table next to the uneaten dinner from last night. Then she took a candle from the mantelpiece and hu
rried back outside. The women hushed and exchanged glances when she approached. No doubt they had been discussing Zoltan’s inability to perform. He would most probably be annoyed by her current strategy, but it seemed like the best way to buy some time. They wouldn’t kill him as long as they were waiting for her to get pregnant.
Freddie stood and brushed off her pants. “Freya and I are going to our father’s cabin to bring back the presents. You want to come?”
“I should keep an eye on Zoltan.” Neona lit her candle from the central fire pit. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
She rushed back to her house and lit the fire in the hearth. Then she wedged the lit candle into the holder on her bedside table.
“There. Now I can see.” She glanced at Zoltan. His eyes were still closed, and he hadn’t budged.
Her gaze drifted to the black box sitting on the bedside table. “Is this another gift for me?”
No response. He just lay there, looking gorgeous with the firelight glimmering over his muscled body and handsome face.
She opened the black box, and her breath caught. Two gold bands. A larger one for a man. A smaller one for a woman. She’d read about these in the books Frederic had left behind. A man and woman exchanged vows and rings at their wedding.
Her eyes misted with tears. Zoltan wanted to marry her. Didn’t he realize that marriage never worked for the women of Beyul-La? Calliope’s husband had deserted her. And Zoltan’s mother, Dohna, had ended up dead.
Would Zoltan try to repeat his father’s actions? Would he try to lure her away from the valley and her sacred duty?
Just last night Neona had urged Tashi to run away and live with the man she loved. But he was a villager. A mortal, who lived close by. She and any future daughters she had could still visit Beyul-La and help fulfill their sacred duty.
Marriage to Zoltan would mean marriage to a vampire. A husband with fangs? Would she have children with fangs?
She snapped the box shut and set it back on the table. There was no point in even imagining it. She couldn’t leave Beyul-La. She was the only healer left. Everyone counted on her.
Her eyes filled with tears as she removed her sparkly watch and set it beside the black box. Then she sat on the edge of her bed and gazed at Zoltan.
“It’s impossible,” she whispered.
Neona woke to a loud squeaking noise. She lay in bed, disoriented for a few seconds. She hadn’t intended to fall asleep again, but after eating all the food on the table, she’d stretched out on her bed with nothing to do other than stare at Zoltan.
She blinked. His bed was empty.
With a gasp, she sat up.
“Good evening.” He smiled at her as he twisted the top off a bottle of blood.
While he drank, Neona looked him over. He was standing next to the wooden chest. The open box, containing ice and his bottles of blood, sat on top of the chest. He’d slipped his blue pants back on, but they were unfastened and rested low on his hips. A line of dark hair ran from his navel into his black underwear. She swallowed hard and lifted her gaze. The stab wound by his ribs was completely gone. No doubt his arrow wound was completely healed, too.
She ventured a quick glance at his face and stiffened when she realized he had been studying her, too. She looked away and busied herself, unbraiding her hair. The wildflowers had fallen from her hair onto her pillow while she’d slept. She gathered the wilted flowers up, then eased past Zoltan to the fireplace, where she tossed them in. Another log had been added to the fire.
She glanced at Zoltan. “Have you been up long?”
“Just a few minutes.” He finished his bottle and grimaced. “Cold blood.” He shoved the empty bottle back into the box. When he closed the lid, it made the same squeaking noise that had awakened her.
“Of course, I could have enjoyed some fresh, warm blood.” He turned to her, his eyes darkening as he looked her over. “I woke up with a terrible hunger and there you were, lying so close, smelling so sweet. Tempting the hell out of me.”
She stepped back. “You wanted to bite me?”
“I’m a vampire. Of course I did.” He shrugged. “But I didn’t. So do you trust me now?”
“No!”
His amber-colored eyes gleamed with humor. “Then we have no choice but to continue with the original plan to earn your trust. Ten climaxes, one at a time.”
She had a feeling he’d set her up. “I didn’t agree to that.”
The corner of his mouth curled up. “One little climax. You’re not afraid of that, are you?”
“I’m a warrior. I laugh at fear.”
His eyes sparkled. “Good. Then we’ll start tonight.”
“Says who?” She lifted her chin. “Are you smirking at me?”
His smile widened. “Never.” He opened the wooden chest and put his supply of blood back in. Then he removed a small bag from his duffel bag. “Is there a place to shower around here?”
“I usually go to Frederic’s valley, where the stream from Beyul-La shoots out from the rock wall.”
“I know where that is. Do you have any towels?”
“We cannot leave this valley.”
“Of course we can. They’ll never know we left the house. We’ll teleport.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I-I’d rather not.”
“Afraid?”
“Of course not. But I’m supposed to keep you here.”
“You’re supposed to guard me. That’s why you should come with me.” He stepped closer. “What if I tried to escape?”
She snorted. “You could escape anytime you want.”
“Towel?”
“Fine.” She moved to the shelves in the corner next to the hearth. “Here. Go take your shower.” She grabbed a linen towel from the stack.
When she turned, her breath caught. He was right next to her. With a very determined look on his face. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t sneak up—”
He grabbed her and everything went black. A few seconds later, her feet landed and she stumbled.
“Easy.” He steadied her.
“You startled me!” She shoved at his chest.
With a smile, he released her and stepped back. “Just one of the many thrills in store for you tonight.”
“I didn’t agree!” She threw the towel at him.
He caught it and sauntered along the stream, headed for the rock wall.
She looked around. Good Lord, she’d actually teleported with him. They were in the next valley, not far from Frederic’s cabin. In the distance, she could see where the water jetted through the rock wall. The grass felt cold and damp under her bare feet. She hadn’t even had time to put on her shoes.
As she approached the waterfall, she watched Zoltan setting his towel and small bag on a flat rock.
He waved at her before heading toward a clump of trees and bushes. “I’m not running away. I’ll be right back.”
What was he doing? She ventured closer, then turned away when she realized he was relieving himself. She leaned over to peer at his small bag. It had the same sort of metal closure that his blue pants did. She tugged at the metal tab and smiled when it slid along the top of the bag, opening it.
“You like zippers?” He stopped beside her and dropped his pants to the ground. “I’ll let you practice with my jeans next time.”
“Jeans?”
“My pants.” He folded them and set them on the rock next to the towel. “Would you like to shower with me?”
“No. I’m fine.” She stepped back. When he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, she quickly looked away. Something grazed her toes, and she jumped back. The rascal had tossed his underwear at her as if he was daring her to take a peek.
Very well. She wasn’t a coward. She did. He was leaning over his small bag, and he pulled out two of the smallest
containers she’d ever seen. And they were clear. She could see some sort of liquid inside. When he straightened, she caught a glimpse of his manhood before turning away. Good Lord, he was huge.
She swallowed hard. “Those are interesting. What are they?”
“My balls.”
She gritted her teeth and gave him a wry look, being careful to only look at his face. “In your hand.”
“Ah.” He smiled as he raised his hand to her. “Shampoo and conditioner. Travel size. Would you like to try it?”
“No, thanks.” She lifted her chin. “Are you smirking at me?”
“Never.” His smile widened. “Are you ogling me?”
“Never.” Her gaze slid down as he turned. Good Lord, could a man’s back and buttocks be that gorgeous?
He strode into the shallow pool at the base of the waterfall. The water only reached midcalf, for it rushed down a rocky path to join the main stream in the valley.
After setting the small containers on a rock, he leaned into the cascade of water, his back to her.
She took a deep breath to ease the quivers in her stomach. Even with the scars on his back, he was beautiful to behold. He lifted his arms to smooth his hands over his slick hair. The muscles in his arms and shoulders rippled. His buttocks flexed.
And her knees nearly gave out. With a muffled squeak, she steadied herself.
He glanced back as he squirted shampoo into his hand. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I—I’ll just rinse out your underwear.” She grabbed it off the ground and hurried to the stream.
Crouching next to the water, she dunked his underwear in and swished it about. She glanced back. He was vigorously lathering up his hair. Trails of soap trickled down his back, meandering around his muscles, till they reached his rump.
She turned away, sucking in a deep breath. How could a man’s rear end look so enticing? So touchable. She wanted to dig her fingers into those cheeks and feel the muscles flexing beneath her hands.
She squeezed his underwear in her hands, wringing out the water. Her thighs tensed as an odd sensation settled between her legs. An empty, aching need. It made her press her thighs together.