“Home?” he repeated.
“Home,” Lucien stated firmly. “She’s having some difficulty adjusting to her new life. I’m giving her space to sort herself out.”
Cosmo threw his head back and burst out laughing. Lucien watched his friend thinking that not the first damn thing was funny. Cosmo’s laughter became chuckling as he paid for his drink and took a sip.
“You’re losing your touch, my friend,” Cosmo noted, his eyes scanning the crowd also unseeing, his attention was on the conversation. “It’s been a whole week. Back in the day, within a week, you’d have them gagging for it.”
“Perhaps, considering it’s been centuries, I’m out of practice.”
“Perhaps?” Cosmo was still smiling broadly. “Or perhaps you’ve met your match.”
“She’ll break,” Lucien said low, meaning every word and taking a sip from his drink.
And she would.
After he’d heard her weeping and later discovering the shredded lingerie, he had thought she already had, albeit briefly.
Having it confirmed that day that only her game plan had changed had not only been invigorating, it had been a relief.
Indeed, the sense of relief was so strong it was vaguely alarming. It was as if he didn’t want her to break. As if he didn’t want the taming. As if he didn’t want her to submit to his control, instantly acquiesce to his demands, all of which would be for her own good or her pleasure, even though she didn’t understand this. As if he didn’t want to show her that her life, entrusted in his care, would blossom beyond her imagining.
It was as if he wanted things to remain as they were; the constant battles, contests of will and bickering interspersed with her quirky sweetness and immense humor.
Which was absurd.
“Well, how long do you think it’ll take?” Cosmo asked. “Maybe Stephanie and I can place bets. It would be amusing.”
Lucien leaned back against the bar and didn’t answer.
Cosmo was undeterred. “It took you three weeks with Maggie. Do you think Leah will break Maggie’s record?”
“At the rate she’s going,” Lucien drawled, “it’ll be the next century before either you or Stephanie see a return on your bet.”
Cosmo again burst out laughing but Lucien’s mind turned to something about their conversation that was unsettling.
Cosmo had mentioned Maggie and for the first time in hundreds of years, the mention of her name had not felt like a knife twisted in his gut.
He scanned his memories, all of which, over eight hundred years of them, stayed sharp in his mind.
He remembered Maggie’s taming. It had been the sweetest moment in his life, both up until that point and since. The submission, the gift of her trust, the laying of her life in his hands for his safekeeping. He’d rewarded her and she’d flourished immediately. He could still feel her underneath him, her legs opening of their own accord, her welcoming of his body in hers, the taste of her blood in his mouth, the scent of her filling his nostrils.
He could also see her smile, hear her laughter, taste her skin and feel her warm body pressed against him in sleep.
Every second with Maggie was burned on his brain, none of it was forgotten nor was it any less sweet.
It was just that the familiar pain of the memory which fused with the memory of her loss had vanished.
“Lucien?” Cosmo called and Lucien focused on his friend. “Maggie,” Cosmo murmured, his face grew concerned and he continued in a soft voice, “Sorry, that’s twice I’ve –”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lucien cut him off, not about to share his revelation.
Cosmo nodded, taking another sip, his eyes on the crowd, letting the matter drop as he had learned to do with a good deal of practice over the years.
“I hear Katrina is causing troubles,” Cosmo noted and Lucien sighed.
“I filed Severance,” Lucien shared.
“I know. Everyone knows. I’m pretty certain her phone is fused to her ear, she’s been so fucking busy.”
This didn’t surprise Lucien. It annoyed him but it didn’t surprise him.
“She tried to attack Leah today,” Lucien disclosed. He heard Cosmo’s sharp intake of breath and felt Cosmo’s eyes turn to him.
“Please tell me you’re joking,” Cosmo whispered.
“I’m not.”
Cosmo continued to stare at him. “How did that happen?” Cosmo asked, still sounding shocked as he would be.
It was not done to go visiting a mate’s concubine, no matter what you might suspect was happening.
Concubines were sacrosanct. They were under the protection of their vampire and only allowed in the company of other vampires with their vampire’s permission. To arrive on one’s doorstep with or without the intent to harm was not only not done, it was against the law. To attempt to harm the concubine was warrant for deadly retribution.
Katrina had likely come to confront Lucien and Leah had gotten in the way of her rage.
It mattered not that Lucien was flying in the face of the laws that ruled all vampires. It was Leah’s safety that mattered. Katrina’s behavior had been condemnable and even though Lucien was breaking the law on his own and flaunting it, he was within his rights, even if she was his mate, to hunt her and make her burn.
“She arrived on our doorstep this morning spoiling for a fight,” Lucien answered his friend’s question.
“And she attacked Leah?”
“She tried, yes. Twice.”
Cosmo let out a low whistle before enquiring, “Good Christ, what are you going to do?”
“If she continues to be just a nuisance, I’ll let her burn out her temper and move on, which is what I’m expecting she’ll do. If she ever gets near Leah again, I’ll see she burns a different way,” Lucien answered calmly but with deadly seriousness.
“You know The Council has heard all of this. Not only from Katrina but from Nestor, who was there last night when you kissed Leah,” Cosmo told him.
Lucien was not surprised about this either mainly because he’d seen Nestor watching them.
“I’m prepared to talk to The Council,” Lucien stated.
Cosmo turned fully to his friend, putting his drink on the bar and leaning closer.
In an effort not to be overheard, using his mind to communicate, a capacity that Cosmo had as well, he asked, And what will you say to them?
They owe me, they’ll allow me Leah, Lucien replied.
Yes, I believe they will. The debt has gone unpaid too long and they’re uncomfortable with it. However, they won’t like it or the idea it may give to others. It’ll be the only such dispensation since the Agreement was signed. And they only will if you intend to feed and to fuck. They’ll have a problem with you taking her as your mate, Cosmo returned and Lucien’s head snapped around to look in surprise at his friend.
What makes you think I intend to take her as a mate?
Everyone thinks that’s your intention.
It fucking well isn’t, Lucien clipped.
And it wasn’t. However, Lucien thought wryly, it might take eternity to break her which would be the same thing.
I hope to God you’re serious, Lucien. Cosmo cut into his thoughts. Because you attempt something like that, it won’t only mean war, it’ll mean hunting. They’ll torture you, which you’ve endured, but they’ll also torture Leah…
Involuntarily, at the thought of Leah under torture, hot brands held against her smooth skin, her fingernails ripped out at the roots, acid dripped on her beautiful body, Lucien’s midsection rocked back violently as if he’d been kicked in the gut.
His burning black eyes locked with Cosmo’s green ones. I mean to feed and to fuck. I mean to indulge in a taming. And I mean to have her how I want her, however long it lasts after the taming. Not as mates, not for eternity, Lucien stated clearly and went on. Cosmo, hear me. You set straight anyone who says otherwise. If The Council intends to investigate, they investigate me not Leah.
Cosmo studied his frie
nd and nodded.
“Did Katrina start that rumor?” Lucien asked out loud deciding, if she did, he’d hunt her that night, not wait for her to do something else immensely stupid.
“I’ve no idea where it started,” Cosmo muttered, shaken, not at Lucien’s denial of the rumor but at his unconcealed reaction to any harm coming to Leah.
First, because Lucien did not have open reactions, unless he was in a position of complete trust with the person with whom he was talking and all those around him. Which would mean not under the hundreds of watching eyes at A Feast.
Second, because his reaction betrayed his feeling for his concubine which went beyond a desire for a simple taming.
This was familiar. Cosmo had experienced this emotion from Lucien once before. When Lucien took Maggie as his mate, expecting to live the rest of eternity with her only to have her captured by their enemies during The Revolution, tortured then executed.
They had not known it at the time but this, for Lucien, had been a boon. He and Maggie both would have died during The Hunt. Neither would denounce the other, Cosmo knew it to the depths of his soul. Further, Maggie’s murder had inflamed Lucien to the point where he was an unstoppable killing machine during the war, albeit controlled and strategic, but nevertheless immensely successful and exceptionally deadly. Avenging Maggie’s murder had made him a hero of The Revolution to such an extent, with his added mesmerizing abilities and his unparalleled wealth, centuries later he was now an idol.
If she had lived to see it, Maggie would have laughed.
Back then, Lucien had been content with modest wealth (for a vampire, for a mortal, he was fabulously wealthy).
And he had been more than content with Maggie.
Being a hero, and definitely an idol, would not have been something he would have sought, although he didn’t. It also wasn’t something he would have allowed, although he had no choice.
He would have found a way to return them to their simple life, just the two of them, for eternity. No hopes for children but no disease, no death, just Maggie’s oft-used dry wit, excellent cooking skills, flashing gray eyes and Lucien’s complete devotion.
Not for the first time, nor likely the last, sorrow for his friend and his loss gentled Cosmo’s tone.
“Maybe you should feed,” Cosmo suggested.
Lucien didn’t hesitate. “Excellent idea,” he murmured his reply.
Lucien’s eyes moved to the blonde on the dance floor. His mind sought hers and he called to her.
Come to me.
She had her back to him and he watched her body twitch then she whirled around, her eyes seeking his.
She looked surprised, even anxious. It wasn’t something that happened, hearing someone else’s voice in your head.
Then her anxiety melted and she smiled smugly. Without hesitation, she moved toward him, slithering adeptly through the crowd.
As he watched her move, Lucien made a decision. He didn’t make her come to him, he moved with the intent to meet her at the doorway to the maze that led into The Den.
He wanted to be done with this and get home to Leah.
He had intended to return tomorrow evening for a feeding and another attempt at her taming. However, he decided he’d talk to her, not instruction, but explanation. And he also decided to do it without delay.
Perhaps that would hold some sway or at least enough for her to beg him to take her.
All day his body had reminded him of his own unfulfilled need to be buried inside Leah’s silken, wet, warmth. It had been an error of judgment to give his cock even the hint of a feel of her. It had taken a supreme effort of will to set those thoughts aside during the day. No matter how little he had of her, what he had had been exquisite.
“Lucien,” the blonde breathed when she made it to his side.
He didn’t greet her nor did he touch her.
He walked into the hallway, knowing she’d follow.
She did.
This hallway didn’t snake to The Den, or feeding room, of this Feast. Instead, it was a maze, the center of which held The Den. Every vampire knew the layout, none of the mortals did. A mortal could only go to The Den in the company of a vampire at his or her invitation. If they wandered back in hopes of melting into the feedings, at this particular Feast, they could be lost for hours, even days.
Lucien moved swiftly, surely, feeling her struggling to keep up, not allowing her to get her bearings and within minutes they were in The Den.
Lucien’s eyes went immediately to the steward who noticed him and jerked his head toward another door. Lucien wended his way through the bodies on the floor, feeling her behind him, smelling her scent which was no here near as delicious as Leah’s.
Most definitely lemonade. And not good lemonade.
“Master Lucien,” the steward murmured as he inserted a key and opened one of a half dozen doors leading off The Den.
“Clive,” Lucien returned the greeting and walked into the small room.
It was much like any Den, decorated in rich colors, the furniture comfortable and inviting, meant for lounging, covered in soft, plush fabrics.
Lucien had intended to lead Leah to a room off The Den they visited last night, not to feed, to indulge in other pleasurable activities. However, her extreme reaction stopped him from doing that. He’d been disappointed but only until she’d explained. Then he’d been elated.
The door closed behind them and Lucien turned to the woman.
“I’m Kitty,” she said in her breathy voice.
Lucien regarded her for a moment then he gave his honest, dispassionate opinion. “What a perfectly ridiculous name.”
She blinked both in surprise and, he noted instantly, stupidity. She had no idea if he was being serious or teasing and with the way the wheels churned behind her blue eyes, it would take far longer than he intended to spend with her to figure it out.
“Come here,” he ordered and she stopped the taxing effort of thinking and moved forward.
When she was inches away, she leaned in, going up on her toes. “You should know I’ll do anything you want.” She hesitated and gave him her slightly effective but obviously practiced alluring look before stressing, “Anything.”
“If you’ll give me anything then please do me the favor of not speaking.” He gave her an altogether different highly effective look before stressing, “At all.”
She blinked again, confusion filling her face and Lucien was through.
In less than a second, he had her in his arms, his tongue lashed her neck and he pulled her head back roughly by her long hair. Then he tore into her, her blood spurting into his mouth.
He smelled her excitement immediately.
Neither assuaged the ache in his belly or the throbbing he felt in his cock.
Her head rolled back, giving him better access and further tearing open her own wound, something which he was certain was also practiced.
Her arms started to steal around him and he lifted his head without stroking her wound with his tongue to stop the bleeding. The blood poured down her throat, staining her gown.
“Don’t touch me,” he growled. Her eyes caught his and he saw uncertainty before his mouth went back to the wound.
He fed beyond what would have been healthy for Leah this early in their Arrangement but where he knew he could take this woman. She’d regenerate by the time she wandered into The Den, once invited, open to feeding by anyone.
Then he swept his tongue along the wound, the bleeding stopped and the skin started knitting together. His arms fell away from her, she sagged to her knees in front of him and he made to move to the door.
“Is that it?” she whispered, her hands shooting out to hold him at his hips, her head tilted back, her eyes beseeching, her desperate need to service Lucien in more than just feeding written all over her face.
His eyes dropped to her cleavage and his body responded in spite of his thoughts.
He’d misused her. Even with the mortals at A Feast h
e had better manners. Hell, even with Wats and Breed he had better manners.
It was Leah and his frustration with her that he was taking out on this creature and it was inexcusable.
Therefore, his tone gentled when he asked, “And what would you like, pet?”
Her eyes flicked to his trousers then back to his. “Anything you want to give me,” she breathed.
Lucien thought of Leah, her stubbornness and the likely weeks of torture ahead for them both.
Lucien was a vampire. Vampires weren’t even expected to be faithful to their mates, another frustration Lucien had with Katrina, certainly not their mule-headed concubines.
Then he shrugged off his jacket.
“Stand up and take off your dress,” he commanded.
At once, she did as she was told and Lucien was far later getting back to Leah than he’d recently decided he would be.
* * * * *
It was an hour away from dawn when he arrived home.
Upon entering the kitchen, he heard the television and saw the flashing lights coming from the family room.
He moved in that direction, entering the room, seeing a late night movie playing, the volume turned low.
Leah was asleep on the couch on her side, her hands in prayer position tucked under her cheek. She was wearing a pair of drawstring pajama bottoms in a paisley of muted colors intermingled with bright pastels with a tight-fitting camisole in robin’s egg blue, one of the colors in the pants.
She looked innocent and adorable, the latter of which she was some of the time, the former, only in her sleep.
Laid out on the coffee table with some of it escaping onto the floor were the remains of what had been an eating orgy. Microwave popcorn, open chip bags, cookies, candy wrappers and a small tub of ice cream, half eaten and now fully melted.
Lucien was not one to partake in junk food, except, as tonight, at A Feast.
A delicious, finely-crafted dessert, definitely.
An orgy of chemically saturated savories and diabetic coma-inducing sweets, never.
He decided he’d have a word with her later about this, if he found the right time, which would likely be in the next decade.
He lifted her and, as had happened last night, she didn’t wake. She simply settled into him, her temple on his shoulder, her forehead pressed into his neck.