by Bonnie Dee
“Tell me more about this thrall thing.” She interrupted Jacob. “What does it mean that you share his blood? Why doesn’t that turn you into a…what he is?”
Jacob stopped walking and stared at the scarlet blooms that dotted a bush beside the path. “To become a vampire, one must be drained nearly to death and then ingest a large amount of blood from a donor. After a long, coma-like sleep, a period of hibernation during which the body alters and the blood changes, the person has become a vampire. But a thrall…is something different.”
He stopped talking and Akila waited. Even she was able to hold her tongue once in a while. Right now, she could tell it was difficult for Jacob to speak about what had happened to him. She gave him time to formulate the words.
“I met Mr. Kaspan in Germany toward the end of the war.” He glanced at Akila. “The second World War. I was in a camp, in bad shape. He freed me, fed me and then made me an offer. He needed someone to serve him since his previous thrall had been killed. Valarian showed me his fangs and explained what becoming his servant would mean.”
Akila could barely breathe as she listened to his voice, as quiet as if he was in a confessional. The birds calling in the trees were louder than Jacob.
“I had no illusions. I agreed to it. I welcomed the chance to repay him for his kindness.” He paused. “Besides, I had no one left to go home to.”
“How does it work?” she asked softly.
“A vow and an exchange of blood, although not enough to turn the chosen one into a vampire. I suppose you would call it a covenant. I will serve him until I die.”
“But what do you get from this arrangement?”
“Long life, health, strength, protection and a bond you could not begin to understand. I owed Valarian my life. I was happy to give it back to him. In return, he helped me accomplish something I was determined to do.”
Jacob began walking again, signaling he was through discussing the topic.
Akila trailed after him. “May I ask one more thing?”
“Could I stop you?” he said dryly.
“What’s Kaspan’s story? How long has he been alive? When was he turned and how?”
“That is his story to tell. You must ask him,” was the unsatisfactory reply.
She would indeed. There was a goldmine of a story here that spanned years and continents, life-changing experiences and deep emotions. She was determined to extract the gold if she had to chip away the rock piece by piece.
“Would you care for another slice of beef?” Valarian paused with the carving knife held over the roast, which rested in a pool of delectable juices. The meat was still bloody enough that its scent teased at his fangs, nearly seducing them into descending.
He looked back and forth between Akila and Jacob, reading their silences and their guarded glances at one another. They were definitely bonding and, from the pregnant feeling in the air—pun intended—something had happened between them during their walk earlier that afternoon. He was glad to see progress toward the goal, but surprisingly annoyed they were getting along without him in the mix. He was attracted to Akila too, and if it were any other situation, he’d have her in bed by now without ever using his vampire mojo. His personal sex appeal was usually enough to drop panties. There’d be no sport in it if he used paranormal powers of persuasion.
But this was not a normal situation. Akila wasn’t there for sexual games but to produce an heir. God, how he hated that word, as if he was some arrogant nobleman determined to pass on the legacy of his bloodline. It wasn’t like this situation was his choice, but a destiny all three of them must fulfill.
“I’ve had enough, thank you. It was delicious,” Akila responded to his offer of more prime rib. “Is that your own marinade?”
“Yes, it is.” He was ridiculously pleased she’d noticed. He didn’t get many chances to cook for others, and Jacob was an unappreciative diner, oblivious to what he ate most of the time.
An abrupt laugh burst from his guest. Akila clapped a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s a little surreal, discussing cooking with a vampire.”
“I understand. Would you rather we chatted about how different types of blood taste?” He gave a pointed stare at her long, lovely neck.
She lifted a hand toward her throat, but caught herself and dropped it back into her lap. “No. But I would like you to explain about bloodlines and why it’s important to mix yours with mine.”
Valarian pushed his chair away from the table and leaned back. “I suppose it begins with my turning several hundred years go in the Caucasus Mountains.” He’d mentally rehearsed what he would tell her, how he would say it, and was surprised it was difficult to actually speak of the man he’d once been.
“I was not a good person in my former life. Fighting and killing were both my career and my sport. I was a minor warlord with big dreams of taking over more territory until I ruled the world within my reach, a would-be Khan. Family legend claimed we were descended from a bastard of Genghis himself and an Armenian woman.”
Akila’s brows shot up at the reference to the Mongolian emperor. Valarian appreciated how her expressive face held nothing back. With this woman, what you saw was what you got, and that was an admirable quality.
“I was nearly dead on a battlefield after a raid when my sire came upon me. He offered me what every grasping despot dreams of—immortality. When he showed his fangs and fixed me with his gaze, I accepted his offer without hesitation. As I struggled for breath, he drank deeply of me and I of him, and when I woke much later…” He waved a hand. “You know the rest.”
Akila pushed her empty plate back and leaned against her crossed arms on the tabletop. “Who was he? Why did he choose you?”
“He was a creature even more brutal and despicable than myself. He could’ve drained me dry and left me dead, but perhaps he saw a little of himself in me and chose to turn me. We remained in partnership for many years, killers both of us.”
She should’ve looked frightened at his admission, but instead appeared merely curious. “But something changed you. At some point you chose a different path.”
“I did. And it wasn’t something but someone who set me on it.”
She didn’t need to know all the details of his long life. Some things were too private and painful to share with anyone. Even after all these years, Jacob knew only the bare essentials about his turbulent relationship with Oxanna.
Valarian took a sip of his wine and carefully set the glass down before he continued. “I can’t change the things I’ve done or make up for them, no matter what good I do now, but I’m going to keep trying. Part of that includes fulfilling this prophecy, which is where you come in.”
Akila exhaled. “Ah, yes, my mysterious and vital DNA.”
“The prophecy claims the daughter of Ra and the lost son of the Khan will join together to create a leader who will save the world from darkness, despair and torment. I can show you a copy of the text. The original book is in the protection of a sisterhood so ancient and secret they have no name. Those who know of them merely refer to them as the Sisters.”
“That’s original.”
“When a pair of these ladies approached me out of the blue and informed me of my destiny, I thought they were crackpots at first, but they convinced me.” He felt a chill remembering the horrific images that had flashed through his mind. “They showed me visions of two possible courses the future might take. One was bright and the other, to put it mildly, was not good.”
“Visions, huh?” Akila sat back in her chair and folded her arms over her chest, her body language rejecting the preposterous idea.
It was time to use the strongest weapon in his arsenal: his charisma. Valarian gazed at her, beaming his vital essence. A strong enough dose could hypnotize a person into voluntarily exposing his or her neck, but he wasn’t giving Akila the full court press, merely a nudge. He wanted her to be able to make up her own mind.
“I believed them,” he said. “These women we
re the real deal.”
“If this blood union is so important, why didn’t the Sisters come to me and show me the visions? Why leave it to you to track me down and convince me?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s part of a pre-ordained pattern for how this is meant to play out.” Valarian glanced at Jacob, who stared with brooding intensity at his wine glass. “My part was to find and bring you here. Jacob is to be the child’s physical progenitor, and you will be the vessel to carry the savior of the human race. It sounds pretentious, but that’s the truth. It takes all of us to bring this child into being. In fact ‘the new life begun from the union of three’ is one of the phrases in the text.”
The silence that followed this statement was so complete the trilling tree frogs resounded from outdoors. It was dark enough now that Valarian could go out. Perhaps he should suggest after-dinner drinks on the veranda.
“If I don’t want to do it, will you really let me go?” Akila’s voice suddenly cut through the silence. “If this is as important as you say, I don’t see how you can.”
“I would not coerce you, but I’ll do everything in my power to persuade you. It is that important.” He wondered if it was time to mention the incentive of money again, or if that would only offend her as it had earlier. He hadn’t meant to suggest a lack of integrity. It was simply his experience that a large enough sum could convince a person to do just about anything.
Jacob spoke up for practically the first time throughout the meal. “Valarian is right. The prophecy is real and we all have a part to play. I haven’t been very supportive of the idea until now, but I see I can no longer deny my duty. Nor should you. Please, Akila, consider this matter deeply before you come to a final decision.”
Valarian was glad he hadn’t mentioned the money. Jacob’s integrity would go a lot further toward convincing her. His weighty words hung in the air and he could tell Akila was considering them. It was so quiet he heard her soft intake of breath before she spoke.
“What about afterward? If I decided to have a baby, I wouldn’t just give it to you to raise.”
“Of course not,” Valarian assured her. “But you won’t be alone in this. Both Jacob and I will be right beside you, supporting you in every way. There could be forces that might try to destroy the child before he, or she, fulfilled his destiny. Both you and the baby will need protection.” He wondered how far Overton would go to stop this from happening if he and his followers found out about the prophecy.
“What kind of forces?” She frowned and something flashed across her eyes.
He caught a whiff of her fear and his fangs itched to descend, an automatic response he’d long since learned to control. Simultaneously, he felt a strong protective urge toward her. “Has someone followed or contacted you?”
She shrugged. “The night Jacob gave me the invitation, something happened outside my building. There was something or someone hiding in the shadows, watching me, I think. Or maybe it was my imagination.”
It had to be one of Overton’s minions. How the hell had he found out about Akila? Valarian cursed his stupidity in not taking precautions and guarding her. But if Overton knew something, why hadn’t he killed or kidnapped her? The man’s motives were a mystery.
“Do you believe everything I’ve told you?” Valarian stared at her, willing her to trust him.
She returned his stare for a moment before jerking her gaze away. “You don’t have to pull a mind-warp on me. I already believe you and I don’t appreciate being fucked with.”
How about just being fucked? He barely suppressed the question. Beneath all this talk of bloodlines and destiny rippled an inexorable current of desire. Before he’d met her, Akila had been a puzzle to figure out and a goal to achieve, a means to thwart Overton’s plot. He hadn’t really thought of her as a person. But since she’d exploded into his home, all attitude and sarcasm and smelling more delicious than that prime rib, hunger for her had percolated through his system.
She was no longer simply a vessel to produce his child. She was a powerhouse of a woman, whom he found immensely attractive. The idea of Jacob having her all to himself was not at all satisfactory. When they got down to fucking—and he had no doubt they would, he could smell the desire on both of them—Valarian wanted to be a part of it.
Chapter Five
Akila stood by the low stone wall at the edge of the veranda, looking at the moonlit waves sliding into shore and breaking in a flurry of lacy foam. The sand shone ghostly white and, overhead, masses of stars pulsed in the night sky. The warm breeze smelled of brine and exotic flowers, and the drink in her hand tasted like summer. She would be having the tropical vacation of her life if it wasn’t for that pesky prophecy that cast a cloud of gloom over an otherwise perfect night.
It was impossible to believe in it and impossible not to. Kaspan had convinced her he believed. And if the world was really in danger, she couldn’t sit on the sidelines and watch. She had to do something about it.
Behind her, Valarian and Jacob sat in deck chairs, their low voices rumbling back and forth in an easy cadence. She’d observed them together all evening and thought she understood them a little better. They were like an old married couple that sometimes sniped at each another but who would be lost without their partner. Perhaps Jacob chafed under the restraint of his servitude and maybe Valarian was annoyed by his thrall’s tendency to brood, but they were inextricably linked. They were like one unit. How could she possibly fit into that tight duo if she decided to have sex with Jacob?
Which she wouldn’t.
Or maybe she’d have sex with him, but she certainly wouldn’t allow herself to become pregnant. She was on the Pill. Hadn’t Valarian considered that possibility? There was no likelihood she’d become pregnant if she did decide to indulge in recreational vacation sex with Jacob. Or Valarian. Or both.
The thought of her sandwiched between the two gorgeous men—not men, vampire and thrall, her mind whispered—kept darting through her mind like a streaker at a prayer meeting. Here she was, wrapping her mind around a host of impossible beliefs including some pre-ordained responsibility to save the world and all she could think of was sex! She imagined sex with Jacob would be slow and deeply passionate; with Valarian, unpredictable and uninhibited. Her body hummed with pure animal lust as images of the three of them naked, grappling and thrusting—
“Can I get you another drink?”
She nearly shrieked as Valarian spoke right beside her.
“No, I’m good. Thanks.” She set her glass on the stone wall and faced the water again, but couldn’t ignore his presence beside her. He was of average height and build, yet larger than life with a potent force that burned like a bonfire, heating her through. Her body leaned slightly toward him. The intensity with which she longed for him to touch her was frightening. Maybe part of the vampire mystique was big honking waves of pheromones that drew a person like a magic spell.
She corralled her rampaging libido and focused on facts. “Do you have any idea the source of this danger to the world?”
“Yes, I do.” He sat on the wall facing her, making it hard to ignore him and keep staring out to sea.
Akila studied his face and tried to realize he was hundreds of years old. He had the face and form of a man in his prime. It was difficult to see beyond the handsome, youthful package to the geriatric soul within.
“There are many vampires who go about their business fitting into society and passing for normal. Some are destructive and deadly as I once was, wolves living among the sheep and picking off the flock one by one. Others try to live peaceably with people and find other sources of blood or take only what they need from humans, leaving them alive. But there’s a growing group that wants to see humans enslaved. They’re organized and actively recruiting others who view humans only as a food source. Their leader is Dale Overton, formerly a local politician now making a bid for Congress.”
“How does he get away with never appearing outside during the day? Must
be hell on the campaign trail.”
He chuckled and a warm wave lapped her body. “Overton claims a skin condition makes him hypersensitive to sunlight. Anyway, you can see the danger of such a sect infiltrating government.”
“Immortals running the planet and using us as blood on tap? I’ve seen movies. I understand.”
“Sometimes movies get it right.”
“You must hate vampire movies, all the inaccuracies.” She veered off topic as she considered what he’d told her. It seemed impossible a shadow conspiracy could gain so much power, but dictators often sprang from marginalized zealots.
“I prefer comedies.” Valarian turned surreal up another notch. “I spent enough years being a killer and then wallowing in guilt about it. Dramas aren’t entertaining to me. I like a good laugh.” He nodded toward Jacob, who sat in his deck chair gazing toward the horizon. “Now my friend over there has no sense of humor. He broods more than any vampire I’ve ever met. With good cause, given what he’s been through, but it’s time he shed some of his baggage.”
Valarian’s gaze swung back to her. “I’m hoping you can help him with that. You’re a breath of fresh air, Akila. You will be good for him. If you stay, I think you’ll be good for both of us.”
He stood, invading her personal space, and she took a step back, but his hand was behind her at the small of her back, pulling her close to him. Valarian looked down into her eyes, and she couldn’t have pulled her gaze away from him if she tried. He filled her vision; those luminous eyes and that lush mouth, lips parted. Was that a gleam of white fangs behind them?
He lowered his face and Akila gasped for a breath of air before he covered her mouth. His tongue teased between her lips and she opened for it, tasting the sweet, oaken flavor of wine. His body wasn’t cold or undead, nothing like what vampires were depicted as being. Heat and life rushed through him and his pulse beat beneath her palm as she snaked a hand around his neck.
