Blood Mercy (Blood Grace Book 1)

by Vela Roth

  Lio had to see Cassia. He had to break the news to her.

  He turned his back on the king’s door. Lucis ought to be grateful Hespera had ordained a path of peace for her Gifted. The man would never give thanks where it was due. He would never imagine the Goddess his people had forsaken had, in this moment, been all that stood between him and his own destruction.

  In contrast to the sleeping king, the wakeful denizens of Solorum palace were easy to evade and did not delay Lio. He found himself in an out-of-the-way residential wing and halted before a door that bore the scents of Cassia and Knight’s frequent passage.

  He felt Cassia within—wakeful, frustrated, anxious. But not afraid or in pain. Thank the Goddess. She was not in danger, at least not tonight.

  She had no wards to guard her, only Knight. There was a mild spell fragrant of the Temple of Kyria and a pungent but feeble charm whose purpose Lio could not divine. Inherent traces of magic had accumulated here over the centuries, like everywhere in the palace, but the strongest auras within were natural. Cassia had not exaggerated when she had said she grew potent plants. Even in winter dormancy, her garden filled her chambers with natural power. Plenty to hide a Hesperine from a mage on the far side of the complex, if said Hesperine was responsible in his use of power.

  If this were Orthros, where there was no need for secrecy, he would have indicated his presence and waited for her to invite him in. Or she might have beat him to it and been waiting at the door with a kiss that made her plans for the night quite clear.

  Despite their circumstances here in Tenebra, he couldn’t just throw respect to the winds. He couldn’t commit such a grave offense against his own lover as crossing the veil. Although Cassia did not in fact have a magical veil over her chambers, the Hesperine expression fit the notion of Lio entering her chambers in the middle of the night unsure of whether she wished it.

  He had been confident the soap was her way of signaling she wanted a tryst, but had she really meant for him to come to her rooms? She had not explicitly asked him, and he saw now there was no immediate danger from which he must protect her. He had neither her express permission nor just cause for his intrusion.

  Cassia would have a hearth room, though, the middle ground between a Tenebran woman’s domestic sphere and the outside world, where males might enter to petition for her time. Perhaps it would be acceptable for Lio to venture that far and check on her.

  The best he could do in these circumstances was risk trespassing upon her to give her the opportunity to tell him herself what she wanted. If she was offended, he would take his leave and any well-deserved censure she leveled at him.

  She had been glad when he had found her in the garden the night of Solia’s memorial. If all he did tonight was take a moment to assure her of his concern for her, that would be most welcome to them both, he thought.

  He stepped through the closed door and into where Cassia lived.

  Four bare walls. A low ceiling. A hearth too small to push back the Tenebran cold. The embers in the fireplace cast a dying glow on a ragged rug and two wooden chairs.

  A half-darned stocking stained with grass and soil sought to escape the sewing basket. Lio grinned at a hole worn by Cassia’s big toe. Her loom gathered dust in one corner, while moonlight shone through a lone window upon a motley assortment of pots, buckets and troughs bursting with thriving plants.

  On his left, a door stood slightly ajar. Beyond it beat Cassia’s heart.

  Lio went closer. The scent of her soap and frustration drifted out to him. He opened himself to the Union still more. Her misery saturated his senses. He heard a bed creak, then the muffled thump of a pillow suffering violence. He couldn’t help smiling to himself. She did not seem happy with the prospect of missing their tryst.

  His smile faded. He had to speak with her. She had a right to know what he was here to tell her.

  He knocked on her bedchamber door. “Cassia? It’s me. May I come in?”

  Happiness

  Lio heard Cassia gasp.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  He winced. “When you didn’t come to meet me, I got worried about you.”

  By the time he finished speaking, the door had swung open. The way she clutched his arms and pulled him inside her bedchamber did not feel like she was about to throw him out. In fact, she was shutting the door behind him.

  “It’s too dangerous,” she whispered. “What if Amachos senses you? And Perita might be back at any moment.”

  “She won’t hear a word we say, anymore than the court could hear us as we danced.” An irrepressible smile overtook him. It was fear for him, not rejection he heard in her voice. “Amachos is very, very far away in his temple doing magely things, or perhaps sleeping off the sun god’s fire spirits. It was foolishly easy for me to come in here undetected. I might have tried it before, if I’d thought you wished it.”

  Cassia breathed a sigh of relief and gave him the fine surprise of sliding her arms around him. For a moment he just savored the sensation of her holding him, and him getting to hold her back. No hesitation. No fear she would pull away.

  “If I’d known that,” she said, “I would have told you how much I wished it.”

  All the words he had planned to say deserted him. He should tell her now, but he didn’t want to. He wanted nothing more than this, the sensation of her nose pressed against his chest, the feel of her skin through the wool of her tunica as he slid his hands down her back. The fabric was a negligible barrier, compared with a castle, its king and the dictates of Anthros.

  Cassia sighed into Lio’s veil hours robe. “I’ve been lying here waiting for my chance to go out to the shrine. I’d just about given up. Yet here you are.”

  “Why couldn’t you leave? Is everything all right?”

  “Perita is only paying her mother a quick visit for a women’s tonic. She would come back to find me gone. What she knows, the king knows as well.”

  Lio held Cassia closer still. “The person who mends your stockings is one of the king’s spies.”

  “Of course.”

  “I can scarcely imagine the toll it must take on you to know she is watching you all the time.”

  Cassia frowned. “It’s not a comfortable situation for Perita, either. I always know the king has demanded a report when she comes back looking frightened.”

  “It is a shame the king has put the two of you in this position.”

  “No one is sorrier than I.” The Union twinged with Cassia’s guilt. “Something has gone wrong between her and her lover, so she’s not spending the night with him. I can’t risk leaving my rooms.”

  “You must evade the king’s informants just for a breath of fresh air. I am aghast you must fight a war for every little enjoyment.”

  “Enjoyment is not the word I would choose to describe our time on the grounds. Nor would I say little.”

  He drew her to him again and nuzzled her nose. “What word would you choose?”

  “Happiness. Great happiness.” As soon as she said it, she drew a breath. Almost a gasp.

  He realized what those words meant to her. She aired them as if they had long lain in disuse. She had not thought of them in a long time, perhaps never thought of them consciously.

  Lio lifted a hand from her only long enough to prick a finger on one fang and cast a spell light so she could see his expression. He buried his hands in her hair and tilted her face up toward him. “Yes. Those are exactly the words I would choose.”

  He sensed he had indeed chosen the right words, and that even without Blood Union, she had seen what she needed in his eyes. She wanted to know she gave him the same happiness he gave her.

  The words he still left unsaid pained him. His awareness of time pressed in on him. Time had never given him grief. It had simply never mattered. In Orthros, it barely seemed to pass at all, and it brought only the growth of his own power. Not the waning of precious things. Not loss.

  But here in Tenebra, it was Hyp
nos’s Dream. The last month of winter spun onward to its inevitable end at the Spring Equinox.

  Why now, when he and Cassia had only just begun, must their time grow short? If only he had more time with her, he might turn this budding happiness into something even greater. Joy.

  He kissed her to silence himself and push away the words he dreaded saying. He who had begged for the chance to come to Tenebra and face reality now longed only to shut out the harsh truth. When he let Cassia come up for air, he strove for a light tone. “No convenient pillars here. Shall we try a bed instead?”

  She gave her chuckling laughter. “I am not difficult to please. Anywhere will suit me, as long as I’m trying it with you.”

  “Goddess help me, Cassia. The things you say drive me mad.”

  He had beheld her by moonlight, firelight, and now almost no light, clothed and naked, standing and lying beneath him. But the sight of her now aroused him anew. Her hair was a tousled mess, her eyes heavy-lidded from lack of sleep, and her tunica hanging askance off her shoulder.

  Behind her, the bed awaited. Her pillow and blankets were twisted as if she had battled with them. The thought of him had kept her frustrated and awake. She had longed for him to warm her through the night. Now he would.

  It would have been a wholly erotic situation, if not for the dog who took up most of the bed.

  Knight crouched atop the blankets, ready to spring. It appeared their truce did not cover the lady’s bedchamber.

  “Easy there, my friend,” Lio said. “We talked about this. Please accept my apologies for the blood magic. I’m sure the scent doesn’t make this easy for you.”

  Cassia faced her hound, shielding Lio behind her. She said a few crooning words to Knight, then reached forward and pulled the dog’s favorite blanket off the end of the bed. She used it to make a place for him on the floor by the door instead and offered him his chewing bone.

  When Knight jumped down, Lio felt the impact of the liegehound’s massive weight through the stones under their feet. In record time, the dog posted himself on his blanket at the door and mouthed his beloved bone.

  “My thanks,” Lio said to Knight, careful not to smile and bare his teeth.

  Cassia turned to Lio, knotting her hands. “My bed smells of dog. It’s worse than the tallow soap.”

  “No comparison between good, honest dog smell and dead animal smell.” Lio urged her closer to the bed.

  She halted in her tracks. “You’ll get liegehound fur all over you.”

  Small price to pay to have Cassia all over him. But he cast a hasty cleaning spell on her bed. “Does that reassure you?”

  “It’s barely big enough for two. Your feet will hang off the end. And look how low it is. It doesn’t even raise one above the chill of the floor.”

  He eased her against the edge of the mattress, and her knees buckled. “I’ll keep you warm.”

  “I promise there are no fleas. My Kyrian wreath keeps them away.” She waved toward the flora hanging above the bedstead while she buried her other hand in his robe.

  He paused to kiss her, reaching down to push her tunica up over her knees so he could slide between her legs.

  Her arms wrapped around his waist, and her body rubbed his arousal. “The other charm isn’t…diminishing you…in the least.”

  “Charm?” he repeated, his thoughts already far ahead of their state of dress.

  “Chastity charm. That garland with the chillvine and prickle buds. Every woman is expected to sleep under one to ward off males with impure intentions and guard against lustful thoughts.”

  “That explains why it doesn’t affect me. My intentions are entirely pure.” He wrapped his hands around her buttocks.

  “I’m still convinced it doesn’t work. I suffer from very lustful thoughts when you’re not here. And especially when you are here.”

  “Incompetent Tenebran mages.” He kissed her again.

  She opened her lips to him. He moaned encouragement, penetrating her mouth with his tongue in anticipation of all tonight would bring. Again. And again.

  He lifted his mouth long enough to ask, “Would you like to tell me these lustful thoughts of yours? Perhaps I can allay them.”

  She shook her head, one wayward strand of hair in her eyes. “Tonight you must tell me your thoughts. Say where you wish for me to touch you.”

  His hands tightened on her of their own accord. “You never cease to astonish me.”

  She brought her hands around to his belly. “Perhaps tonight, you would like for me to feast on you.”

  His imagination took her words and ran away with them. The vision came to him of Cassia rising up on her knees and lifting her lovely mouth to his neck. She would part her lips, and there would be her fangs, sharp and unsheathed with arousal. She would press her mouth to his throat, he would feel her tongue there and the razor tips of her canines. Then would come the fierce pleasure-pain when she fastened onto him and began to suck…

  Her hands drifted still lower, pulling him out of his wild thoughts. Although she brushed his rhabdos lightly through his robe, he gritted his teeth.

  “I am no Hesperine, but a human woman can still feast on her lover.”

  Reality replaced his fantasy with something almost as wild. All he could say was, “Yes.”

  She unfastened his robe from collar to thigh and let it fall open. And then she stopped. Waiting, he realized, for him to speak.

  He lowered his mouth closer to hers. “Kiss me, Cassia, and don’t stop.”

  She did as he asked and covered his mouth with hers. Her hands caressed his bare chest, as if unconsciously, while she probed his mouth with her tongue. He felt her searching, delving to find what pleased him. She raked her tongue over his top left fang with confidence borne of her previous experiments. He gave a short groan of confirmation.

  She licked his fang so that her tongue bled, giving him a foretaste of tonight’s feast. The delicate sensation of her tongue sliding on his gum, then his fang, then teasing its tip made him press closer to her and drag his hands farther up her thighs. She continued, this time on his top right fang. Then the bottom right. Then the bottom left.

  He was not sure he would last if she did this everywhere he had in mind. But between her ministrations, he found himself mumbling, “Don’t stop.”

  “Where shall I go next?” She pulled back, smiling with mischief. Turnabout was fair play, and she was enjoying it.

  “Downward.”

  “And don’t stop.”

  “Please.”

  She sucked his bottom lip in her mouth, then kissed her way along his jaw. She was proving herself to be a bold lover, now that she was unbound. No telling what pleasures she might be willing to explore with him, if they only had more time.

  No. He must not think of the future and how short it was. Only of this moment.

  She mouthed her way down his chest. Over his heart, she paused, then detoured to his nipples. Oh, she was wreaking revenge indeed for how he had pleasured her. Lio clenched his jaw, tilting his head back. Did she know what that did to him? She did, for she was doing the same to his other nipple now.

  “Cassia,” he pleaded. “Downward still.”

  She obeyed, and as she ventured farther, he took hold of her shoulders. When he felt her tongue sliding down the trail of hair on his belly, he wondered how he would withstand it when her mouth finally reached his rhabdos.

  Her breath washed over his agonizing erection. “Downward still?”

  “Cassia,” he said, not sure if he was begging for more or for a reprieve. “Please.”

  Slowly, almost gingerly, she took him in her mouth. Pleasure blazed through him, tightening every muscle in his body. His hands clenched on her shoulders, and he gasped a breath.

  “Suck,” he breathed. “As I do at your neck.”

  She closed her lips around him and tightened her mouth and tongue. He let out a groan, almost a shout. She understood it for what it was, a cry of pleasure, not pain. Or perhaps bo
th. Holding him tightly inside her mouth, she slid her head back. Speech deserted him, and he braced his legs against her bed.

  Having discovered what pleased him—what undid him—she applied the strategy relentlessly. He buried his hands in her hair, holding her to him, then letting her pull away. He flexed his hips in time to her rhythm as she took him deep, then suckled him and withdrew. He was not sure who was moving whom now, who led their advance and retreat.

  Just as she had watched him love her with his mouth, now he could not take his eyes off of her. He watched her head bobbing in his hands, her lips around his rhabdos, until he lost control. He threw his head back as pleasure gathered in his loins and erupted out of him. He felt her mouth and tongue working and her throat closing. She was swallowing him, gulping him down as eagerly as he spilled inside her.

  Lio leaned heavily on the bed, amazed he was still on his feet. Cassia retreated carefully, releasing him from her mouth and tongue. He watched her swallow again and lick her lips.

  “You never cease to astonish me,” he repeated, as soon as he was capable of speech.

  Almost shyly, she wrapped her arms around his waist again, holding his legs between her thighs.

  “I’m glad you’re holding me up,” he said. “Otherwise I don’t know how I’d stand up after that.”

  That wasn’t just a smile. That was a grin. “I was hoping to work up your appetite, rather than exhaust you.”

  “You succeeded at both. I’m ravenous.”

  In one move he stepped back, swept an arm under her knees, and planted her on her back on the bed. Her genuine laughter filled the room. There were great benefits to Hesperine speed and agility.

  He surprised her yet again with how quickly he set his mouth to her vein. She gasped and held him closer to her. He drank with more abandon than ever before, giving them both the gratification they wanted. By the time she was panting and twisting under him, the taste of her had set his veins alight again, and her blood had glutted his rhabdos.

  So too did her blood glut his Gift. His magic flooded his veins, and a shudder wracked him. His mind reached for hers, ready to join their thoughts without preamble. He barely checked himself in time. What was he, a newblood drunk on his first taste of power?