He deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing her lips apart. Delving inside, he stroked her tongue with his, the movement keeping rhythm with Cho’s slow, languid sucking.
She whimpered into Lake’s warm mouth, moving her legs restlessly. The men were driving her to the brink of something huge. Cho’s bite brought her agonizing bliss, and Lake’s mouth teased her with a touch she wished to feel everywhere.
She wanted, needed, Lake inside her. Yet the law said it was not to be. Not until Menda’s Eve. Yet who would know? And what could it possibly matter if she had Lake now, or nights from now?
Hot blood coursed from her into Cho’s body, giving life to him and returning to her a steady stream of elation and ecstasy. The bond between them grew stronger with each year. She felt she could do anything while high on the shadow’s bite.
She couldn’t bear pulling her lips from Lake’s to tell him she had to have him. Instead, she wrapped one arm around his neck, the other around his waist, and hoped he would somehow know.
He nibbled at her lips, then murmured against them, “No, little Myaian.”
Naked in his arms, with Cho sucking so close to the place she most wanted touched, she shook off the desire to lie there and just feel. “I want you now, Lake.”
It took an enormous amount of effort to speak, and she realized that Cho was doing something he’d never done before. He was taking too much. Letting her hand fall weakly from the Ednian’s neck, she swatted at Cho’s head. “Stop. Cho, stop.”
When he kept sucking, a zing of fear shot through her, followed by a wave of dizzying nausea. “Lake!”
One minute she was in his arms and the next her head thumped against the hard ground as Lake leapt toward the shadow, growling. He grabbed Cho by the back of his neck. “Get off her, parasite!”
Something was wrong. Cho seemed to have lost control and couldn’t force his mouth from her. She screamed as Lake pulled the shadow and the pain at the semi-separation became nearly unbearable.
It was as though Cho had her insides in his mouth, and as Lake pulled him away, her very essence stretched between her body and Cho’s mouth.
“It hurts,” she screamed, but Cho did not stop.
Then his eyes flew open, and she saw inside them his despair. He couldn’t stop.
“Lake,” she said, “don’t hurt him. He can’t help it.”
But her calm was a lie. She had to force herself not to beg Lake to find a way to kill the shadow, anything to take the pain away.
In a second, she’d gone from bliss to agony, and it was too much. She groaned, and then blessed relief came as blackness took her.
*
Lake cursed the shadow, ignoring the fear that rode him as he tried to pull the smaller man from her. He’d known it was a bad fucking idea to let Cho feed on her, but a combination of the potent drink and the knowledge that this was her wish, her people’s tradition, had made him give in. He hadn’t journeyed here to try to change her; he was here to fulfill his duty and his own clan’s expectations of him, and go home.
He should have known things were not going to go as planned. From the moment she’d stared at him with those big dark eyes of hers, had sashayed past him with a body he had to force himself not to take whether she wanted him to or not, he was lost.
She groaned and went limp. The shadow, the man she professed such a connection to, was killing her.
Each time he pulled Cho, he nearly took her leg off. He was afraid to kill the shadow. Mila had said the shadow’s death might mean her own. Though he doubted that theory, he wasn’t about to challenge it.
But she was dying anyway. With a roar he barely realized he was voicing, he wrapped one hand around her small thigh and the other he put against what he could reach of Cho’s face. Giving thanks that she was unconscious, he screwed his eyes shut and put everything he had into saving this girl’s life. With a sound like deep, deep mud sucking and pulling at his boots, they came apart.
He slung Cho away without a thought, and dimly realized the small man was sobbing with an agonized, weak voice. But he couldn’t think about the shadow. He snatched Mila off the ground and held her to his chest. Leaving Cho where he lay, he ran to the village.
The villagers were useless at the moment. The ground was littered with their dark, unconscious shapes, but others still danced and fucked and acted as though they’d lost any little bit of sanity they might have once possessed.
It was then he made up his mind. No matter what she wanted, no matter what her people, her councilor wanted, he was taking Mila away. Away from her clan, away from her fucked up shadow.
If that made her think of him as a tyrannical, brutish son of a bitch, so be it. He knew it was for the best, and she would too, in time.
Besides, he’d promised her his baby. He’d give her the baby, and this way…he’d not have to take off and leave it in the hands of these crazed Myaians.
His family would be satisfied that he was satisfying his duty, and he would be keeping his word to her.
He knew his smile was grim as he ran with her. He probably looked like a big mad man. Some of her people, even in their drugged, vampyr high, shrank from him. He couldn’t help but wonder, as he caught sight of other Myaians with shadows drinking from them, if they might lose their lives this night.
If they did, he wouldn’t know about it. He wasn’t planning on being here when dawn broke and the villagers went back to their pretense of normalcy. This place was a horror. No wonder this clan had been cursed and unable to have children without the help of outsiders. Children didn’t belong in this village.
He looked down at the cold, still face of the one Myaian who had somehow managed to sneak inside his heart.
Mila didn’t belong in this village either. And he was going to take her out.
Chapter Eleven
When she awakened, the first thing she noticed was her rolling stomach. Too weak to move and confused by that fact, she could do little but turn on her side and dry heave. There appeared to be nothing in her stomach to throw up.
She was hot, so hot. But as soon as she realized it, she began to shiver as splinters of ice stabbed her body.
Someone surrounded her with warm, strong arms and whispered assurances that she was safe. Comforted, she once more sank down into sleep’s healing arms.
The next time she awakened, the moon’s cool light lay upon her body, and she realized in a dazed, sick kind of way that she was in the back of a wagon. She wanted to ask what was going on but couldn’t find the strength to do more than snuggle against a very hard, very warm chest and let sleep claim her. Staying awake, she somehow knew, was not in her best interest. Not just yet.
She had no way of knowing how much time had passed before she rose to the surface again, well and truly awake.
Stretching, she took stock of her body. Weak, shaky, but better. And ravenous. Her leg was no longer on fire. An image of Cho’s lovely dark face flashed into her mind, followed by a quick spark of anger. How dare he try to kill her?
Just as quickly she remembered his helpless, despairing gaze and knew he hadn’t meant to hurt her. Why he wasn’t by her side, holding her hand and gnashing his teeth over what he’d done, she couldn’t understand. Unless, of course, the councilor was having him punished.
But even the councilor couldn’t keep Cho from her if he didn’t wish to be kept from her. Maybe he was sick too. Or maybe…
She sat up. “Cho!” She realized as soon as she yelled for him that she wasn’t home. This room was alien in its richness, its walls covered with rich tapestries and vibrant colors. Even the floor gleamed, instead of the bare, dusty old planks of home. This place was well tended. Even the air felt different. The shift she wore was a new one. It hung nearly to her ankles and had enough room for two of her. It was pretty though, for someone twice her size. It closed with many attached strings, and someone had sewn a pocket into the side.
Maybe she’d been lodged in some secret room in the councilor’s house. He h
ad the biggest and best place in the village, and the wife possessed many dresses, some of them very similar to this one. “It’s possible,” she said, but knew in her heart that was not the case.
Swinging her legs over the bed, she gingerly arose. Falling was the least of her problems, so she ignored her trembling legs and limped to the door. She wouldn’t call out until she at least had some idea of what was going on. Maybe she was dreaming.
“Maybe I’m crazy,” she whispered, and pulled open the door.
She stepped out and found herself in a hall, short and dim and very clean. The silence was overpowering. It made her feel alone.
Her breath was the only sound, loud even over the thundering of her pulse. She’d been too sick to jump right back into life, but other than lying in bed wondering what was going on, this was the only logical choice.
At the end of the hall, she stepped into a large square space, occupied by a bare table and a smooth bench. A little farther along she found the stairs and leaned against the wall to catch her breath before descending.
She thought of the Ednian as she practically crawled down the stairs. Her last memory of him was of him leaning over her, kissing her like she’d never been kissed. There had been a connection. A strong connection. Where was he now? Had he fled back to his clan?
Halfway down the stairs, she heard the voices. She peered over the staircase into what could only be the main room of this grand home, vast and long, with a huge fireplace along the far end and tables pushed against the walls.
Relieved beyond words at the sound of laughter, the clatter of crockery, and the fragrant, warm scents of fresh bread and meat, she sank down upon the steps to watch them.
These were not her people. The people below were huge. They seemed to all sport long hair, untidy clothing, and, if the way they gobbled their food was any indication, voracious appetites. They reminded her of—
“Lake! Have some meat, boy, before it’s all gone!”
Below, a door slammed, and Lake walked into her line of sight, his familiar face drawn and tired. Without hesitation, he headed for the stairs. “Later.”
“She’ll be fine, dear,” a softer voice said, and Mila spotted the person who could only be Lake’s mother. Though older and a lot smaller, she had the same defined features, the same smile. “Have some supper.”
But Lake kept coming. “After I see to her, Mother.”
He charged up the stairs, his head down. He was almost upon her before he looked up and saw her.
The expression on his face was priceless. He missed the next step, his mouth falling open. “Mila?”
“Lake. What have you done?”
His whoop brought them a bright eyed, interested audience, and he rushed up the rest of the steps to grab her up into his arms. “Girl, you scared the fuck out of me.”
She beat at him with embarrassingly ineffective fists. “Put me down, you fool!”
He only laughed, as did the crowd jostling for space on the stairs. “I knew you’d pull through, Mila.”
She frowned and ceased beating at his chest, since he seemed not to feel her fists and it was only wearing her out. “I was sick.”
He sobered in an instant. “Very.”
“What has happened, Lake? Where am I? How long have I been here? Where is Cho? What—”
“You’ve got yourself a little jabberer there, son,” said the same man who had offered Lake supper just a few moments earlier.
Lake stared into her eyes and sighed. “We’ll talk after I get you back into bed.” He started up the stairs with her in his arms, calling over his shoulder to the people watching. “Send up tea and broth.”
He put her carefully in the same bed she’d just left, and after she was tucked in, he stood beside the bed staring down at her, saying nothing.
“Tell me,” she said.
He gestured at the room. “I’m sure you’ve gathered by now that you’re in my family’s home. I brought you to my people.”
She closed her eyes in a long blink, though she had indeed gathered that. It was just so final and true, hearing it from him. “Why, Lake? Why? And…how?”
The stuffing in the mattress protested slightly as he sat beside her. “I just took you. The night your people lost their minds and the shadow nearly killed you, I took you and ran.”
She put the back of her hand against her lips, the reality of her situation hitting her like a felled tree. “Lake, where is Cho?”
He shrugged, his face closing off. “I don’t know, nor do I care. I will see to it that he never comes near you again.”
She shook her head. “Lake! Do you still not understand? Cho is part of me!” She touched his arm. “You know he meant me no harm. Something happened, something he couldn’t control.”
His face settled into hard lines, his eyes like ice chips. “It matters not. I will not allow him near you. You’re here. This is your life now. I will teach you all you need to know.”
“As will I,” said his mother, sailing through the door with a laden tray. “We will take care of you, dear, and the babe you will soon bless us with.”
Mila raised an eyebrow. “Babe?”
“I promised you a year in which I would fill your belly. Now we have as long as we wish.” A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “The thought of trying does not displease me.”
“Now, now,” said his mother, “let’s not worry about that right now. Mila must recuperate.” She placed the tray on the small bedside table and said quite cheerily while she poured the tea, “Oh, and Mila dear, I wanted to make sure you understood that if you hurt my son, I will be forced to tear you limb from limb.” She threw a sweet smile at Mila. “I’m sure you understand.”
“Mother.” Lake shook his head, sighing. “Out.”
“And you think my people are crazy,” Mila said as Lake’s mother glided out the door.
“Yeah, well, we might both have a bit of crazy in our clans, sweet.” His gaze caressed her face. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired. Confused…dazed.” But even so, more…herself than she’d ever felt. She didn’t want to try to explain that to Lake. She couldn’t even explain it to herself.
“Hungry?”
“A little.”
“Good. Sit up here.”
He spooned some warm broth into her mouth, carefully blotting her lips with a napkin afterward. She couldn’t help but smile. “I can feed myself, Ednian.”
He didn’t return her smile. “I will feed you.”
Mentally, she shrugged. Let him be lulled by her bland state. She would soon have to find a way to escape him and run back to her people. But not until after he took her. A babe would make everything that had happened or would happen worth it.
That was all she wanted. Even as she thought it, she realized what a lie it was. She wanted Lake, as well. Her heart swelled as she watched his earnest, serious ministrations. She might care for him, but she wouldn’t let him rule her. Except maybe in bed.
“Are you cold?” he asked. His brow knit with concern.
“No. I’m not cold. I miss my family.”
“Those people aren’t your family, Mila.”
She shoved his hand away. “I don’t want any more. I don’t want you feeding me. And more than anything, I don’t want you running my life for me. Don’t think you know my people more than I know them. They are mine. Mine. You can’t keep me from them.” The bitterness of her words nearly choked her. “You shouldn’t want to.”
He stood. “You’re angry. But in time you’ll come to see that I am right. Mila, even the short time I was in your village I was affected by…” He shook his head and gestured, as if the words would not come. “By something bad. The air is not good in your village. Something is very wrong there. I won’t let them have you. Not now.”
“Why, Lake? Why should you care? I do not yet carry your baby, so I know that’s not it. So why?”
He was the master of blanking his face so quickly she could not read it. “We’l
l talk more later. You should rest.”
“I think I know how I feel better than you.”
Again that ghost of a smile. “Of course you do. But humor me, my stubborn Myaian. Rest now.”
He was so patronizing that she wanted to leap from the bed and smack him. She frowned. She would not admit it, but something was different. She felt different. Spirited. Aggressive. As though she was coming out of a fog and finding herself waiting in the clear sunshine.
“What do you think so hard about, lovely?”
“Nothing. I think I will rest. Leave me.” She slid down in the bed and pulled the covers to her chin, closing her eyes.
Yet he stood by her bedside for a good five minutes, and the weight of his stare was heavy upon her. At last, she heard the door close gently behind him.
He did not trust her.
He was right not to.
Chapter Twelve
“Why do I feel different?”
“Different how?”
She shook her head, sighing, and held her hand out for the tea he’d brought her. “I don’t know, Lake. Just different. It’s like I was existing in this tiny, misty bubble. And now I’m not.”
“It was the shadows, Mila.”
“I don’t think so. It was something about that place. My village. Maybe it was the councilor. He could have been…”
“Drugging the drinking water?” He snorted. “It was the shadows. But it’s nothing for you to worry about. That time is no more.” He started to lean toward her then drew back. “Forget it.”
If life and vitality had a scent, he was wearing it. It teased her nostrils and caressed her skin. His closeness made her belly tighten, and a memory of the way he’d kissed her floated into her mind like a steamy dream.
There were no Menda’s Eves here to anticipate. “Lake…”
His gaze sharpened at her tone and dropped to her lips. “Don’t tempt me, girl.”
Carefully, she placed the tea on the side table. “Why not?”
“You’re sick.”
First Night Page 7
