She stumbled closer for a quick look. “You brought clothes here? Where did you go?”
“I went home for a little while. I can teleport to another place in a second.”
She blinked at him. “That’s how you disappear? You tele—pork?”
His mouth twitched. “Teleport.”
“Oh. So you . . . teleported home?” When he nodded, she gave him an incredulous look. “Then why did you come back?”
His heart sank. “You . . . don’t want me here?”
“There are people here who would like to kill you. If you had any sense, you would stay away!”
“So you’re worried about me?” He smiled. “You care about me?”
She crossed her arms. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You mean you don’t want to admit that you care about me.”
She scowled at him. “Why did you come back?”
“I can’t leave you here alone to shoulder all the blame. Not when I want you to trust me.” He turned to close the lid on the wooden chest.
With a grimace, she eyed the arrow wound in his shoulder. “If you can teleport whenever you like, why didn’t you disappear when Lydia shot the arrow?”
“The arrow would have hit you.” He frowned at her. “Don’t ever leap in front of me like that again.”
“I-I wasn’t thinking.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “One might get the idea that you cared about me.”
She huffed. “I am a healer. It is my natural instinct to spare people from pain.” She reached for his shoulder. “Should I heal it now?”
“No.” He grabbed her hand. “It will heal during my death-sleep.”
“Death-sleep?” With a shudder, she pulled her hand away. “If everything heals while you’re . . . asleep, why do you still have the old scars on your back?”
“I was mortal then. Only fourteen.”
She regarded him solemnly for a moment, then swayed on her feet.
He took hold of her shoulders to keep her steady. “Maybe you should lie down.”
She shook her head, and one of the wildflowers slipped from her hair and fluttered to the floor. “I cannot believe it is really you. The boy. Do you know you’re the only human male I have ever healed?”
“I didn’t know.”
She rested her hands upon his chest, then circled behind him, moving her hands across his chest and shoulder to keep herself steady. “I remember this so clearly.” She touched the burn mark on his back. “Like it was yesterday.”
He drew in a deep breath. “I’m still the same person. Just a little older.”
She touched a few scars across his shoulder blades. “I healed these first.” She moved her hand up the back of his neck to his head, then her fingers delved through his wet hair to stroke his scalp. “You had a nasty cut here. Swollen and bleeding. It was the blow that knocked you unconscious.”
He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her fingers.
Her hand skimmed down his neck to the red scar that marred his back. “I was afraid to touch this. I knew it would hurt something fierce.”
“But you did. You saved me.”
“I have been dreaming about that day since the first night we met in the woods. Somehow, deep inside, I knew that it was you.”
He turned slowly. “Then I am the man of your dreams.”
She hiccoughed. “Or a nightmare.”
He plucked a wildflower from her hair. “I would never harm you.”
“You are hurting me. You’re making my heart ache.”
“Sweetheart.” He dragged the flower down her cheek. “It doesn’t need to hurt. If you’ll accept me for what I am—”
“You’re a vampire.”
“Who loves you.” He kissed her brow.
“You shouldn’t say that.”
“But it’s true.” He kissed her nose.
“Why are you kissing me?”
“Because I love you.” He brushed his lips against hers. “We were meant for each other from the beginning.”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid you’ll bite me.”
“I’ve kissed you before without biting you.” He nuzzled her neck. “I’ve nibbled your neck without biting you.” He palmed her breast. “I’ve kissed your breasts without biting you.”
She moaned and gave him a sleepy-eyed look. Then she flinched and jumped back. “Your eyes are turning red!”
“It only means that I want you—”
“No!” She grabbed the knife off the floor where it had fallen earlier. “My mind is made up, and I will not be swayed.” She pointed the knife at him. “I will not fornicate with you.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That’s good. Because I’d much rather make love.”
“That’s even worse!” She motioned with the knife. “Go to bed.”
“Come with me.”
“No! That is your bed. This one is mine.” She scrambled onto the other bed, then settled against the wall with her legs drawn up and her knees bent. She hugged her knees with one hand and pointed the knife at him with the other.
With a sigh, he sat on the edge of the other bed. “You don’t need the knife, Neona. I understand the word no.”
She frowned, flexing her hand around the knife handle. “I’ve never had to spend the night alone with a vampire.”
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He moved the black box from the bed to the bedside table. It didn’t look like he’d be proposing tonight.
“What is in the box?”
“I’ll show you later.”
She yawned.
“You’re used to sleeping at night, aren’t you? You can sleep if you want.”
“I have to keep an eye on you.”
He snorted. “You think I’m going to fly across the room and attack you?”
“Isn’t that how you became a vampire? Didn’t another one attack you?”
He sighed. “Sometimes that happens. In my case, I asked for it.”
Her eyes widened with shock. “Why would you do that?”
“I lost my brother and parents within a week. I was fourteen, and suddenly I was a count, responsible for a destroyed castle and a burned village. The only friend I had left was an old vampire. Istvan. He gave me advice and money so I could rebuild the castle and village. He helped me defeat the Mongols when they invaded a second time. And he watched over my domain when I would go searching for answers.”
“He was a good friend,” Neona whispered.
Zoltan nodded. “My best friend. And a second father to me. I had the arrow that killed my real father, and I would spend every summer hunting for those who had murdered him and destroyed my village.”
Neona winced. “I’m not sure who killed your father.”
“I know.” He smiled at her. “You were with me, healing me. But still, I wanted answers, and I wouldn’t give up.”
Her eyes softened. “You were always stubborn.”
“Yes. When I turned twenty-nine, I became worried that I would grow too old or infirm to continue the search, so I asked Istvan to transform me. And he did. He said something about my mother having an ancient soul, and that he’d always known I was destined for the same fate. It didn’t make any sense to me at the time, but it does now.”
“What happened to Istvan?”
“He died in the Great Vampire War of 1710.”
She blinked. “There was a vampire war?”
“Yes.” His mouth curled up. “Don’t worry, the good guys won.”
“But you lost your best friend. It must have been lonely for you.”
“Not anymore.” He smiled. “Now I’ve found you.”
She frowned. “Don’t smile at me. It makes me feel strange.”
His smile widened.
She bit her lip. “So there really are good vampires who fight the bad ones?”
He nodded. “We’ve been fighting them for centuries. Lately, we’ve been fighting Master Han and his vampire lords. You met Russell. He’s mo
re determined than anyone to kill Master Han.”
“You know Russell?”
“Yes. He drops by my castle twice a month for a supply of blood and weapons. It was your arrow in his quiver that caused me to come looking for you that first night.”
“Oh.” She made a face. “I asked Russell to use it to kill Liao. He’s the monster who killed my sister.”
“We’ll get him. We’ve already killed the other two lords. And we got rid of the demon Darafer.”
She winced. “There was a demon?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. We’ll defeat Lord Liao and Master Han. You can trust us.” Zoltan felt the pull of the upcoming sunrise. He stood and dropped his jeans.
She stiffened. “What are you doing?”
“The sun will rise soon.” He tossed the jeans on top of the wooden chest. “I’m making myself comfortable.” He stretched out on the bed and tugged the sheet up to his hips, even with the band of his black boxer briefs.
“You’re going to fall asleep?”
“Death-sleep.” He rolled onto his side to look at her. “I’ll be completely vulnerable. I’m trusting you to keep me safe.”
She studied him, searching his eyes. “Why do you trust me?”
“You’ve saved me twice. I don’t figure you would let me die now.”
“What do you mean by death-sleep?”
“I’ll be dead. Then I wake up right after sunset.”
“How can you wake from the dead?”
“I’m not sure. I’m just damned grateful that it keeps happening.”
She frowned. “Does it hurt? When you die?”
“A little,” he lied. Then he sat up with alarm. “If I look like I’m in pain going into my death-sleep, do not touch me. Do you understand? It’s the pain of death, and if you take that upon yourself, you would probably die.”
Her face paled and she nodded.
He lay back down as another tug pulled at his senses. “Why the no fornication rule?”
“Isn’t it obvious? They’ll kill you as soon as I’m pregnant. So the best way to keep you alive is to make sure that I never get pregnant.”
“So you’re rejecting me because you care about me.”
“I don’t want you to be killed because of me.” She hugged her knees. “And I don’t trust you. I saw how your fangs sprang out in a moment of intense pain. They might do it again if you feel . . . intense pleasure.”
“You think I’ll bite you while I’m climaxing?”
“Yes.” Her cheeks turned pink as she gave him a wary look. “Does that usually happen?”
He yawned. “I can control it.”
“It would be foolish for me to trust you.”
“I understand. Trust has to be earned.” He felt a stronger pull tugging him into the deep dark hole, but he fought to remain conscious. “We’ll start with something small. Then if I don’t bite you, we’ll move on to something bigger. Do you agree?”
She nodded sleepily. “I guess.”
“Fine. Then tomorrow, I’ll give you one little climax and not bite you.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I know.” He yawned. “You wanted ten. When we get through all ten climaxes without me biting you, then you’ll know you can trust me. And then we’ll make love.”
“What? I can’t agree to that!”
“You already did.” One final tug swept over him, seizing his heart with a burst of pain. With his last breath, he whispered, “Tomorrow.”
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 a
sked.
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.