“What?” I asked in a frightened voice.
“Your throat,” she whispered from behind her hand.
My hand flew to my throat. It still felt that weird numb and Edwina’s horrified stare was making me strangely embarrassed.
I covered the area Lucien fed from last night and pushed up from the bed. I was still lightheaded but I fought it, put my feet on the floor, got up and headed to the bathroom.
My bedroom…
No. Strike that.
Lucien’s bedroom (I wasn’t going to claim anything he gave me) was the biggest bedroom I’d ever had. Painted a warm blush it had a king-sized bed covered in a decadent, fluffy, down comforter with a slightly darker blush, cotton-sateen cover with beautiful embroidery heavy at the bottom of the coverlet and snaking to lighter up the bed. Stacks of downy pillows of all sizes from king, to European to standard in cases and shams that ranged from the deepest to the most delicate blush adorned its head, some of them smooth, some of the embroidered. There was a chaise lounge in a corner covered in cream velvet, edged with gleaming dark, intricately carved wood. Positioned strategically next to its only arm was a small, ornate, circular table. Matching stately but comfy-looking armchairs, each with their own tall, plush, round, tassel-bottomed, button-topped ottomans were arranged in another corner. The chairs shared a carved wood table. A charming writing desk with a laptop computer and stylish desk accessories faced the room from the opposite corner to the chairs.
I didn’t see any of this.
Yesterday afternoon after I’d arrived, I’d inspected the entirety of the lavish cage Lucien had provided for me. I perused the six-bedroom house from top to bottom. Why he thought I’d need six bedrooms with a gigantic kitchen including breakfast nook and comfy seating area, a formal dining room, a sitting room, a living room, a family room, a study, four and a half baths… the list went on… I’d never know.
At that moment I didn’t want to know. All I could think about was my throat.
I went into the bathroom. Another huge room with two sinks, a big mirror, a large, blush-marbled tub set in a platform, under a stained glass window (if you can believe), separate shower cubicle with multiple heads (some on the walls) and the toilet had its own room.
I turned to the mirror and slowly, wincing slightly to prepare myself for the mutilation I’d see, took my hand from my throat.
Then I blinked.
There was only an insignificant, inch long, slightly glistening, pinkish scar.
“What on earth?” I whispered.
“I know,” Edwina said, materializing behind me. “Can you believe it?”
“No,” I gaped at the non-wound, remembering the tearing sensation last night, the pain, the powerful suction from Lucien’s mouth, “I can’t believe it.”
“I can’t believe it hasn’t healed,” Edwina breathed.
My eyes flew to hers in the mirror. “What?”
“It hasn’t healed. How can that be? They always heal before morning. Usually sooner.”
My mouth dropped open.
I snapped it shut moments before asking, “Are you joking?”
Her head quirked to the side. “Of course not. You know that.”
No, I didn’t know that.
I’d been expelled from blinkety-blank Vampire Studies and the time I’d been there I didn’t pay a lick of attention.
I moved away from the mirror, walking toward the huge dressing room that was on the opposite side to the bedroom.
This room was also enormous, the walls filled with rails, shelves, drawers and a full-length, three-way mirror. There was enough space to house the wardrobes of a family of five. It even included a lavish, built-in dressing table with dozens of drawers, a big mirror surrounded by Hollywood starlet lights and fronted by a blush-velvet padded stool. No kidding, the place was out of a movie.
Most of it was un-utilized as I’d only brought two suitcases and a carry-on with me. My mother and aunties were packing up whatever else I’d need to be shipped. Even when they did, it still wouldn’t fill the space and Lucien was seeing to the renting of my place while I was servicing him.
As I stormed into the dressing room, I announced, “I need to call my mother.”
I walked to the dressing table and had to put a hand out to steady myself. I was still feeling woozy and weak. I needed food. And, as much as I hated to give it to the guy, Lucien was right, I needed rest.
“Um…dear…” Edwina said behind me as I caught my breath, controlled the dizziness and reached for my purse to get my cell phone.
I ignored her and started digging through my purse.
“Dear…” Edwina called from closer.
“Where is it?” I muttered, “I’m sure it’s –”
“Leah,” Edwina said from beside me, “Lucien told me you weren’t to phone anyone.”
My head snapped up and I looked at her. “Sorry?”
“Direct orders. No calls.”
“Why not?” I asked.
She shrugged looking uncomfortable.
I looked back down at my purse and kept digging, “Well, he can order all he likes. I’m still going to –”
“You won’t find it. Lucien took your phone.”
My head snapped up again and I stared.
All I could do was stare. My heart had stopped beating which was pretty strange since my blood was boiling.
Finally I found my voice. “He took my phone?”
“Yes, and he told me to lock away all the others.”
“Did you?”
She nodded.
I straightened and faced her. “Well, unlock one.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“Lucien would be angry.”
“I don’t care,” I snapped.
Her face grew pale. It didn’t take a mind reader to know she didn’t want to do anything that would make Lucien angry.
I could understand that. He could be a pretty freaking scary guy. And, I didn’t know her, but I still didn’t want to scare her.
Thwarted again by the hated Lucien.
“I’m going to kill him,” I bit out, my emotion got the better of me and I had to lean against the dressing table to stay standing.
“You need food. Lucien said the minute you woke, I needed to feed you.”
“Lucien can go to hell,” I clipped.
She studied me a moment, surprise behind her eyes, her head angled to the side like a bird’s.
“I think something’s not right here,” she announced.
“You think?” I asked sarcastically.
“Why are you angry with Lucien? No one is ever angry with Lucien. Well, not no one. He has enemies, of course. But not his concubines. Never his concubines. They all love him.”
Oh please.
“I’m not like the others,” I proclaimed.
“I’m sensing that,” she agreed on a comprehending nod.
I dropped my head and lifted my hand to my forehead.
“I think I need space,” I told her, not wanting to be rude but I did.
In this moment of tumult in my life, I hated to admit it, but I really needed my mother even though she and her ancestry of rabidly adoring vampire concubines had gotten me into this mess.
Suddenly, I felt Edwina’s hands gentle on me as she pulled me away from the dressing table.
“What you need is bed and food, in that order,” she declared.
I went with her because I didn’t have the strength to fight.
I blamed that on Lucien mainly because it was his fault.
And I filed it away in my Why I Hate Lucien Vault.
Edwina put me to bed. She came back with a tray covered in food half an hour later, time I spent organizing all the many, many files in my Why I Hate Lucien Vault. A stack of light, fluffy, buttermilk pancakes drenched in melting, real butter and warmed syrup. Crisp bacon. Succulent berries. Grilled sausage links.
I ate it without complaint.
Normally I w
ould never eat that much food as food like that, especially in those amounts, magically expanded to ten times its size and weight before it settled on my ass.
But I needed my strength. For tonight, I would be battling Lucien.
Chapter Five
That Night
Lucien drove toward Leah’s house feeling a welcome sense of anticipation after a not very good day.
She was, he knew, going to be cold or furious but he couldn’t care less.
Whatever she was, it would not be eager, it would not be sycophantic, it would not be adoring and it would not be complaisant.
It would be something different, something he relished, something he had not had in a very long time.
That morning after he arrived at the home he shared with his mate, Katrina had been waiting for him.
The minute he closed the door behind him, she unleashed the fury that he knew she’d kept pent up all night waiting for his return.
Even though he was still furious with her for the plot she’d attempted to unleash at Leah’s Selection, she had every right to be angry. A vampire did not sleep with his concubine, not in any sense of that word. He or she didn’t spend the night.
Goodly portions of it, maybe. The entirety of it, never.
Vampires slept with their vampire mates in every sense of that word.
Things might, and often did (and The Dominion turned a blind eye), get out-of-hand at Feasts but not with concubines. The lines were drawn, the boundaries understood and no one, not even Lucien, could break them.
He ignored his mate, something he’d been doing a great deal for the past decade, walked upstairs straight to their bedroom, disrobed and got in the shower.
She followed, not ceasing for even a breath in her blistering tirade.
Lucien was angry with himself for losing control with Leah and nearly taking her life, something which he would miss, even knowing her such a short time. Not only because her blood was heavenly but also because she didn’t intend to grow up until she was ninety-three years old. That was a concept he found intriguing and very much wanted the time to explore.
He was also angry that he’d caused her to experience such unadulterated terror.
Fear was delicious, especially when it was mingled with excitement.
Terror, or at least the terror he’d witnessed from Leah that morning when she woke, was revolting.
Last, and most importantly, no matter how much he tried, he could not get the sound of her saying, her eyes filled with pain and accusation, “You promised,” out of his head.
Therefore, he was in no mood to deal patiently with Katrina.
He stepped out of the shower dripping wet and put a hand to her throat, silencing her invective. He lifted her clean off her feet and slammed her against the wall, her skull cracking against the plaster and held her there, his fingers squeezing.
She clawed at his forearm with her nails to no avail.
He held her squirming against the wall, deftly avoiding her kicking legs until he felt she understood his meaning. Then he dropped her.
She landed lithely on all fours in a graceful crouch, her head snapping back, her cloud of long, black hair falling over her back, her ice blue eyes glaring at him. Her stunning face was contorted with rage.
She was preparing for attack.
“Don’t even think of challenging me.” His demand was quiet and it was lethal.
Indecision flickered in her eyes which was a strategic mistake. She should have long since learned to master any situation and indecision showed weakness.
She was a young vampire, only two hundred years old.
Even so she would never learn. She never had. He’d been trying to teach her for fifty years.
In the beginning she was quite like Leah, young, amusing, challenging, beautiful and perhaps most importantly, unbelievably sexy.
The minute they finalized The Claiming she’d changed. Became possessive, intolerably so, jealous, even of his concubines and until Leah he’d never given her reason for this ridiculous emotion. Demanding to go with him to Feasts (this he did not allow). Resistant to his teachings.
She’d been full of promise when he met her. She’d become a disappointment.
He saw the fluid line of her shoulders fall in defeat, an action that defined his discontent with their pairing and without a word he turned and strode back to the shower.
In the shower, he came to the swift decision to file for Severance. He’d been toying with it for years. Now was the time.
It was not unheard of for vampire mates to sever. It was also not nearly as commonplace as the mortals’ divorce. Vampires, the vast majority of the time, mated for eternity which, being immortal, meant literally.
Although it was frowned upon, Severance was also never denied. It was not a good idea to force two vampires to live together. It was, they discovered centuries ago, deadly.
When he exited the shower Katrina had calmed down. He found her curled in a ball on her side in their bed, a bed, at the sight of his defeated and sulking mate, he made the instant decision he would never share with her again.
“You must know I deserve an explanation,” she whispered.
He didn’t answer mainly because he knew nothing of the sort.
“No one spends the night with their concubines,” she went on. “You’d lose your mind if I spent the night with Kyle.”
This wasn’t true. There was a good possibility he wouldn’t even notice.
Her voice dropped below a whisper when she asked, “What is it about her?”
Lucien had been dressing while she talked.
Finished, he turned to face her and answered simply, “She’s life.”
He watched her body jolt as if struck.
Then she came up on an arm, her face filling with disbelief and twisting with bitterness. “Your life? You barely know her.”
He crossed his arms on his chest and looked down at his mate. “Not my life, Rina. Life.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what that means.”
She wouldn’t.
Katrina didn’t know the difference between inexpensive champagne and the finest vintage and no amount of instruction or consumption would make her grasp that distinction.
He knew this because he’d tried for fifty years to teach her that exact lesson.
There was blood and there was Leah Buchanan’s blood. It was the difference between eating dust and allowing the finest Belgian chocolate to melt on your tongue.
Feeding from Leah was like drinking in heaven.
Doing it with his hand between her legs, her soft body pinned under the weight of his, enveloped in the smell that was all her mingled with the scent of her sex in a heightened state of arousal, was nirvana.
He was looking forward to Leah’s taming.
Regardless of how it happened, if the beauty of last night was any indication, feeding from her while they were physically joined and she gave herself wholly to him would be rapture.
“Lucien,” Katrina called.
Torn from his thoughts and not appreciating it, Lucien announced, “We’re finished talking.”
He watched her body go taut as his words penetrated.
“Now what does that mean?” Katrina asked on an irritated snap.
He didn’t answer. He left and put her out of his mind.
This was not difficult.
He met with Stephanie that day. And Avery.
There were plans to be made and he was making them. He had been making them since he received word from his informant that Leah had extricated herself from yet another of her hideously ill-suited boyfriends. The end of her mortal relationship opened her up for Selection. With vast and frustrating experience of riding the tempestuous waves Leah’s love life, he had not delayed in taking his chance and he, amongst others, had placed her name on his list to receive an invitation to The Selection.
Lucien knew The Council would not be blinded to what he was doing for long. They’d find out.
Likely, once he filed for Severance, Katrina would tell them. Possibly Leah’s family would too although he knew they’d demanded to examine the contract and she’d not only gone to Study but the Buchanans dispatched her for Homing.
If not those, undoubtedly The Council would hear of his actions somehow.
And he was ready.
Stephanie had always been impatient with the Immortal and Mortal Agreement. She’d even been indecisive on which side she would fight before The Revolution.
She was a definite ally.
Avery was a surprise. He’d been working in his role for The Council of The Dominion for centuries. Lucien had only sensed his willingness to turn traitor.
And Lucien had been right.
Cosmo, on the other hand, he’d been avoiding since Leah’s Selection, something which he failed to do that day.
Late in the afternoon Cosmo had pressed into Lucien’s office, Lucien’s secretary, Sally hot on his heels.
Sally halted when Cosmo hissed, “Are you planning a revolt?”
Lucien nodded at Sally who withdrew.
Once she closed the door behind her, he leveled his eyes on his friend and answered, “No.”
“Then what’s this all about?” Cosmo clipped. “I was there, Lucien. Leah refused to blood your contract. The next thing I know, it had been signed, Avery had filed it, you’d Homed her and The Bloodletting was last night.”
Lucien didn’t speak.
Cosmo continued, “Katrina told Nestor who told Jordan who told Hamish who told me that you spent the night with her.”
Lucien knew his secret wouldn’t last long. “I did.”
“Have you gone mad?” Cosmo bellowed.
Lucien stood, shaking his head. “Cosmo, calm down.”
“The Council will hear of this,” Cosmo bit out.
“They probably already have. Katrina was in a state this morning. She’ll not be thinking before she acts.”
Not that she ever did, he thought.
“They’ll pull you in,” Cosmo warned.
“It’s likely.”
Cosmo straightened and took in Lucien’s composure before asking, “What happened? Did you fall asleep?”
“Yes, after the initiation, I fell asleep.”
This was true. After he nearly killed her, he stopped the blood, soothed the wound, waited, watching and impatient for long minutes as the healing began. Then he watched for long hours as the healing progressed. When he was satisfied all would be well, only then did he pull Leah in his arms and fall asleep.