“I can hear it.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
Of course he could. I would have probably learned that in class too.
“What could go wrong?” I asked.
He studied me likely weighing the wisdom of answering.
Then he said, “After you’ve had enough, I have to stop the blood from coming so I can heal the wound. If it’s pumping too much, I might not be able to do that.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” I whispered.
“It wouldn’t be,” he replied, his hand still stroking my thigh. “That’s why we need to calm you down.”
“I’m not sure that’ll work,” I admitted. “Me calming down, I mean.”
He slid his arm out from under his upper body but bent his elbow and put his head in his hand. This pressed his warm chest against my side and brought his face a whole lot closer to mine.
“Let’s try, shall we?” he suggested.
I didn’t want to try. In fact, I felt hope for the first time in a week. Actually, for the first time in four weeks, since I got my invitation to The Selection.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this tonight,” I tried. “Maybe we should try tomorrow night. Or,” I hesitated, “next week.”
Or never but I wasn’t going to go that far, not yet.
My very weak hope was dashed.
“I can’t,” he replied.
“Why not?”
He sighed and his hand stopped stroking my thigh. His fingers curled into my hip again and he rolled me to my side facing him as his legs came out from under mine and he stretched out full-length beside me. His arm moved around me, his hand sliding up my back to catch a tendril of hair and start playing with it.
“I’ll give you a little lesson you should have learned in studies,” he began with a disapproving tone before I could give into hyperventilating at our newer, far more intimate, position.
I pulled my lips between my teeth and nodded.
“Five weeks ago, I informed The Council I would be releasing my concubine and I’d need to attend A Selection. A week ago, three hours before I arrived at your Selection, she and I officially ended our Arrangement. By law I’m not allowed to feed until I have my new concubine. Not even at A Feast. This means I haven’t fed in a week. That’s a long time, my pet,” he finished on a whisper and then went right on whispering, “I need you. Tonight.”
I ignored his admission of need, which made me feel strangely aroused. What helped that arousal (too much), was the way he whispered, his deep voice soft and low and somehow physical.
Instead, I asked, “What’s a feast?”
His hand went from playing almost tenderly (all right, so it was tenderly, I couldn’t deny it) with my hair, to sliding down my back and drawing circles at its small.
That felt nice too, both my body and mind admitted it without delay or quarrel. It just felt nice. Really nice.
“That I’ll let your mother or Edwina explain,” he told me, still talking low.
“So you’re hungry?”
He nodded and answered, “Very.”
“Why do you have to wait? That seems stupid.”
Something passed across his face, annoyance, definitely, impatience also, frustration too, I was pretty certain. Then there looked to be defiance but that was so fleeting I couldn’t be sure.
“It isn’t smart, you’re correct, however it’s also the law,” he answered.
“Wouldn’t that make the first bloodletting, the initiation, rather dangerous if the vampire is hungry?”
I thought he’d lie.
Instead he agreed by saying, “Yes.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I whispered and I could feel my heart, which had been slowing, start to speed up again.
“I was there when they wrote the law and I still don’t understand it.” He stopped speaking because I wasn’t listening.
I was panicking.
His head cocked slightly then his fingers ceased drawing on my back and his hand flattened, moving over my bottom and up to my hip.
“Leah, your heart,” he warned.
“I can’t help it!” I burst out. “You even admitted you were hungry. What if you can’t stop!”
“I’ll stop.”
“What if you can’t?”
“Leah, I’ll stop.”
I shook my head and started to pull away but his hand slid down my hip, over my bottom again but this time to cup it and he pulled me closer, pressing my hips into his.
He was aroused too, very aroused, I felt it immediately. And his arousal made me even more aroused. It was insane but it was true.
Oh my God. What was wrong with me?
I stilled against his body and my eyes caught his in shock.
His face came close, his mouth barely a breath from mine before he promised, “I won’t hurt you.”
“You can’t help it.”
“I can.”
“Please don’t do this,” I whispered my plea.
He drew a breath in his nostrils and his black eyes, so close, lost focus.
“God, you smell sweet,” he murmured.
“Lucien.”
When I said his name, his eyes came back into focus and they were more intense than ever.
“You’ll like it,” he told me softly.
I shook my head. My panic was keeping pace with my arousal. He was turning me on and scaring me to death at the same time. How, I didn’t know, but he was doing it.
It was as if he sensed this and he liked it. He liked it too much, I could tell because his eyes started burning and that turned me on too.
“In a week, you’ll be begging me for it,” he said quietly.
My pulse spiked and my breath went ragged. His eyes flared.
“Calm, my pet,” he murmured, his hand pressing into my behind, his hips starting to grind against mine.
That felt good too.
My lips parted, my breasts swelled and my nipples went hard, all at the same time a rush of warmth flooded between my legs.
In a second I was going to kiss him. I had to. It wasn’t even my choice. I wasn’t in control of myself. This wasn’t mind games. This wasn’t even head games. This was all me.
My eyes dropped to his mouth.
“Leah,” he called but I couldn’t tear my eyes from his mouth and my hips started moving against his.
“Leah, stop, you’re making this harder on me,” he warned and his hand at my ass moved up my back.
But I couldn’t stop. I was driven, for some reason out-of-control.
It was then I made a near fatal mistake.
In an effort to get closer, I hooked my leg over his hip.
The instant I did, his head jerked down nearly colliding with mine and he glanced down between our bodies in the direction of my lap.
I heard him draw another breath through his nostrils. This one seemed urgent, primal, animal.
When his head shot back up, I saw his eyes were blazing.
Hungry.
Hungry.
Hungry.
Hunger was written all over his face.
“Fuck,” he growled, rolled over me, pinned my upper body with his colossal weight, one of his arms wrapped around me creating a warm, tight cage and two things happened at once.
The first, his mouth was at my throat. I felt excruciating pain there as his teeth tore through my flesh and my blood burst forth into his mouth.
The second, his other hand went between my legs, cupping me over my nightgown, my panties, superhumanly strong fingers pressed in, invading.
I gasped, grabbed his broad shoulders and pushed with everything I had.
He didn’t budge.
I lost track of what his hand was doing between my legs because the pain at my neck was agonizing, unbearable, my lifeblood rushing out of me in a warm, hideous flood.
“Lucien!” I cried, bucking, pushing, fighting.
He didn’t move, he just drank.
It hurt. Killer hur
t.
Intolerable.
I felt the strength leave me as my blood poured out of me into his mouth, weakening me.
“Lucien,” I gasped, still pushing, blackness penetrating at the sides of my eyes. It was my body’s response either to the terrible pain or the loss of blood or both.
I welcomed the loss of consciousness. I could take no more.
My hands fell away from his shoulders as the blackness crept closer, my strength vanished and I lay limp in his arm.
Before the blackness permeated, I felt his head rear up away from my throat and the last thing I remembered was saying on a frail whimper, “You promised.”
Then there was nothing.
Chapter Four
The Day After
I opened my eyes and saw it was morning. The sun shone weak around the edges of the heavy, drawn curtains.
I felt a moment of confusion, not knowing where I was, my surroundings unfamiliar.
Then I remembered.
My body froze stiff.
There was movement behind me and before I could register this I was gently rolled to my back. Lucien fully visible but shadowed in the feeble light, was up on a forearm towering over me.
Stark terror surged through me. I tensed, preparing for escape.
The next second I was crushed in his arms, my face tucked in his throat, his big hand cupping the back of my head, one of his heavy thighs thrown over both of mine.
“Leah,” he whispered.
My name sounded tormented on his lips.
I didn’t care. He could feel as badly as he wanted. He could be tormented forever by his actions and forever was a freaking long time for a vampire.
Promising he wouldn’t hurt me and then inflicting the worst pain I’d ever felt.
Promising he’d stop and then nearly killing me.
I assessed my options.
I couldn’t fight him, I’d never win. Even if I did get away, he could control my mind, my movements.
Therefore, I had no options.
God, I really hated him.
“Please, let me go,” I demanded to his throat, my voice sounded raspy, brittle and that scared me too.
“Leah, you must listen to me.”
I shook my head. This didn’t hurt. I felt no pain at my throat where he’d torn my flesh apart, just an odd but profound numbness, like getting your gums shot with Novocain. I decided not to think about that bit of weirdness at that moment.
I decided to focus on something else.
“The contract didn’t say word one about me having to listen to you. You feeding on me, yes. You fucking me, yes. Me listening to you, no.”
His hand left my head and went to my jaw. His thumb under my chin he pressed up cautiously as he tilted his head down to look at me.
“I’ll explain,” he declared.
I had no idea this was a remarkable declaration. Since I’d been expelled from Vampire Studies, I had no idea vampires didn’t explain themselves. Even if I had an idea, I wouldn’t have cared about that either.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“Leah.”
“Well? Are you?”
“Of course not,” he said on a sigh.
“No, of course not,” I shot back. “Had your fill last night, did you?”
His face grew dark as his arms grew tighter, just to the edge of pain but not quite there. “Listen to me, pet.”
“Stop calling me that,” I hissed and watched his face grow even darker.
This should have scared me.
It didn’t. I knew the worst he could do, outside actually finishing the job.
Ignorance is not bliss. Ignorance is torture.
“Are you going to fuck me?” I snapped in the face of his anger.
His head jerked before he asked, “Pardon?”
“Fuck me. You fed last night, you’re no longer hungry but you’re still here. I’m wondering why? I’m wondering how I’m meant to service you now, Master.”
His arms tightened again, going over the edge of pain for a fleeting second before he rolled me to my back and settled some of his solid weight on me.
His hand went to the side of my head, his fingers curling into my hair there, not gentle, not entirely painful either.
I looked into his face and it was carved from stone but his eyes were blazing like last night, but not with hunger or desire.
With fury.
Okay, so maybe now I was a little bit scared.
His eyes burned into mine for long moments before he pulled in a deep breath.
On his exhale, he said, “Considering what happened last night, Leah, I’ll let your behavior go this morning.”
“Well, thank you,” I returned with deep sarcasm.
His hand tightened in my hair. The not entirely painful part became a little more painful but not unbearable.
“Don’t try your luck,” he warned.
I really wanted to try my luck. Every bad trait that was me screamed at me to try my luck. Instead, my eyes slid to the side then I closed them so I didn’t have to look at him even in my peripheral vision.
“I hate you,” I whispered. It sounded weak, even scared and I didn’t care about that either.
His fingers loosened in my hair and he replied softly, “That’s understandable.”
With my head mostly freed, I turned it on the pillow away from him.
“Please go,” I begged.
He began sifting his fingers through my hair at the side of my head. It felt good. I didn’t want it to feel good and I hated him for that too.
His deep voice cut through my thoughts. “I’ll go, Leah, but I’ll be back tonight.”
My eyes flew open and my head jerked back to facing him.
“Tonight?” I croaked, my voice broken with fear.
His middle finger touched my temple gently then his hand flattened carefully against the side of my face. “Tonight.”
“But, you can’t need –”
“I’ll not be feeding.”
Oh my God. That meant we’d be…
“I’ll not be fucking you either,” he went on.
I shook my head. “Then why are you coming back tonight?”
“We need to talk.”
I stared at him a second before shaking my head again. “No, we don’t.”
“We do.”
“We don’t.”
He sighed again and his face dipped closer to mine. I sucked in my breath.
“We do,” he repeated.
Now I was angry, freaked out, hating him, terrified of him and confused.
“But I thought –” I started.
He cut me off. “Tonight.”
“Lucien –”
His face dipped even closer, so close I didn’t suck in breath. I quit breathing altogether.
Then his lips touched mine, briefly, softly. Then he moved from the bed.
I got up on an elbow. This took it out of me, my head swam alarmingly and I fell back down.
Whoa.
What was that? What the hell was that?
Before I could process this, he was back, dressed completely except his suit jacket was bunched in his large hand.
He leaned in, put a fist in the bed on either side of me and got close. “You need to rest, pet. All day,” he ordered.
“But –”
“Rest.”
“But –”
“All day.”
“But –”
His mouth touched mine but he didn’t kiss me and he kept his eyes open, boring into mine.
I quieted.
“I took too much from you last night,” he murmured against my lips. “You need to rest.”
My mouth opened under his and I began to speak, “I –”
I stopped speaking when his tongue darted in and touched mine, startling me. It was a fleeting touch but even so, his open eyes kept mine captive and I registered a distinct, excited flurry in the region of my belly.
Now.
Exact
ly.
What was that?
A flurry? Caused by a kiss from my near-murderer?
That proved it. I was deranged.
“Rest,” he whispered against my mouth.
Before I knew it, he was gone.
* * * * *
I opened my eyes again when I sensed movement in the room.
It was light, I could still see the sun shining around the curtains so it was not yet “tonight” which meant, I hoped, the movement wasn’t Lucien.
It wasn’t. It was Edwina tiptoeing around the bed.
“I’m awake,” I announced, cautiously getting up on an elbow.
She jumped at the sound of my voice and whirled to face me.
“You’re awake,” she repeated.
I nodded, focusing on her. She was a beautiful, older woman, older than my mother. How I knew this I didn’t know because her face was nearly unlined but I guessed it to be true. Her hair was thick, long and white and it looked soft. It was pulled back in a ponytail at her nape. Like yesterday, she was wearing a gauzy outfit, a swirly, peachy-pink skirt and beige-pink flowy blouse cinched with an equally flowy scarf belt low on her waist.
She looked like a stylish hippie. Strange but true.
“Lucien spent the night,” she declared on a strangled whisper.
I kept staring at her.
Then I asked, “What?”
“Lucien,” she said then spoke no more.
“Yes, Lucien –” I prompted.
“Spent the night,” she breathed in what sounded like deep surprise.
God, she was weird.
“Yes, he did,” I replied slowly.
“Why?” she asked, still in a breathy, stunned voice.
Why did Lucien do anything? Because Lucien wanted to, that was why.
“He just did,” I answered.
“I don’t… he never…” She stopped then pivoted jerkily and walked briskly to the windows, throwing open the curtains as she wittered on. “This is unheard of, unprecedented. I don’t know what to say. I can’t even –”
“Edwina,” I cut her off.
She turned again and the minute her eyes hit me they grew so big, they nearly popped out of her head and she gasped. Loudly.
At the same time her hand flew to her mouth.
I knew I’d passed out before I’d been able to pull a comb through my hair and take off my heavy makeup but even what I knew was the sight of me the morning after her fervid ministrations couldn’t induce that response.