Rik’s bond flared to life in me too. While we’d had a bond for many years, we didn’t constantly listen to one another’s thoughts. It was exhausting and even Aima liked a little privacy in their own minds. Where she was magic and pearly rainbows, Rik was molten lava, streaming down the side of a massive volcano. Hot, but slow. Deep. Controlled. With enough strength to rock the entire world if he needed to.
But the volcano’s fury was contained. He might show a crack here and there, but generally, he kept his feelings under lock and key, buried deep inside him.
I loved him too much to go mining in his private spaces. But this time, he let me in.
He wasn’t as calm and confident and assured as I’d thought. He felt… young, green, and ill-prepared. We’d never served a queen before so we were bound to make mistakes. Shara would make mistakes, and we had to do our best to help her. He felt that pressure acutely, especially her lack of fangs and how she fed. It wasn’t a problem for us—but he feared for her. He feared her pride and determination to do things her own way would offend the goddess. And when a goddess was offended…
How could we protect her against the mother of her own line?
Shara lifted her head, staring into my eyes. One corner of her lips quirked, but her eyes smoldered. Her hunger roared in our bond, and if she wouldn’t have been ashamed before this new Blood, I would have torn my wrist open for her immediately. :Better?:
:I love you, my queen.:
:I love you, my furry warcat Blood.:
“I have a few ideas for our other human visitor,” Gina said. “By your leave, Your Majesty, I’ll make a few calls.”
Heavy footsteps thumped into the room, drawing her attention. “Of course, thank you, Gina.”
Since I was still fully connected to Rik, I felt his initial reaction as the man entered the room.
Overwhelming dread.
Not something I expected to feel from my alpha. Ever.
Alrik
I recognized the new Blood.
Few of our kind carried the kind of scars or signs of age that he did because we healed and aged so well. Even though he wore jeans and a simple long-sleeved button-up shirt, I could almost hear the jingle of chain mail and the unmistakable sound of steel being drawn. He stepped into the living room, drawing Shara’s attention, and I heard the ticking of the timer counting down to the end of my life much too quickly.
I pulled back from Daire, but it was too late. He felt my initial reaction and his eyes narrowed, claws unsheathing in his mind.
:Hold,: I ordered, willing him with every ounce of alpha drive I possessed to obey me. Claws sheathed, he turned to look at the new Blood.
:He doesn’t look like much,: Daire said with a snort. :Your rock troll will smash him to bits.:
I didn’t reply, but concentrated on locking down all my uneasiness. Control. No doubt. No hesitation. I’d tested the new Blood last night. I’d felt his response. He wouldn’t challenge me for alpha. He wouldn’t have to.
The man’s step hesitated slightly when he saw us, especially Daire on the floor. He came a few steps closer, but kept his distance, his gaze locked on Shara. Daire and I were beneath his notice at this point, and I couldn’t fault him for that. I’d have been hard pressed to look anywhere but her too when I first felt her call.
But he shocked the hell out of me when he knelt and then stretched out face first on the floor, arms spread wide, hands empty. “My queen, I come in peace in answer to your call.”
“What are you doing? Get up. I don’t require such…” Her words fell off, as if she only just realized that Daire sat on the floor at her feet. “Please, you don’t have to do that. Who are you?”
He lifted his head and moved his hands in front of him, braced palm down on the floor, but he still didn’t look into my eyes. He didn’t want to antagonize the alpha. At least not yet. “Guillaume de Payne, Your Majesty.”
Daire twitched so hard it jolted her body against mine so I felt his alarm without tapping his bond. He recognized the name at least. A low, rumbling growl started up from his chest and he raked claws on the floor in a warning screech.
“Daire.” She only said his name, but it was enough to quiet him. “What’s wrong?”
“I see my reputation proceeds me.” Guillaume’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. “As I said, Blood, I come in peace. I come to her call. No queen commands me.”
“What reputation?” She asked, stroking her fingers through Daire’s hair to calm him.
The little fucker started to purr, already relaxing against her. It wasn’t his head on the line. “He has a reputation for wooing a queen long enough to kill her alpha.”
Shara shot to her feet, digging in her pocket for her knife.
It amused and touched me at the same time. That she thought to defend me, albeit with a little pocketknife that would make a Blood laugh, let alone one with Payne’s reputation. Especially when she had Isador magic at her disposal. I stood too, towering over her back and the Blood on the floor. But I held my tongue. If she wanted to take this Blood, I’d say nothing. Nothing at all. Exactly as the dozens of alphas before me who’d met their fate at Payne’s sword. Alpha or not, no Blood commanded his queen. Not one.
She flicked the blade open, holding it out to her side, arm stiff. “Get. Out.”
“My queen—”
“I’m not your queen,” she retorted. “You won’t have him. Do you hear me? You won’t lay a finger on him. You’ll turn around and march straight out my door.”
I settled my hands on her shoulders, but I didn’t draw her back against me. “You should hear him out.”
She shook beneath my hands. “You want me to accept him? Even if he kills you?”
Payne stayed on his belly, but looked at her evenly. “I’ll swear any oath you ask of me, my queen. I’ll swear to never touch your alpha, any of your Blood, whatever you wish. If you only allow me to stay in your service.”
“Fuck you and fuck your oaths. Why should I trust you, a man I don’t know, just because you swear you won’t hurt my Blood? Why?”
His nostrils flared, his eyes narrowing with intensity. “You question my honor?”
Before she could antagonize the last living Templar knight, I stepped around her and offered a hand to the man on the floor. “She doesn’t know who or what you are, since she wasn’t raised in a nest among us. I would not question your honor nor your word.”
Guillaume took my hand and allowed me to draw him to his feet. We didn’t shake hands exactly, but took each other’s measure. I felt the immense weight of his age, century upon century stacked like slabs of granite across his shoulders. He’d lived a lifetime as a knight, was captured and tortured for years by King Philip’s henchmen, and was nearly burned at the stake. That had only been the 1300s. And though I towered a good foot above him, I’d never felt so small and young in my entire life. This man was a living legend and he had come to serve my queen, and indirectly, me.
“Alrik Isador,” I said quietly, not looking away from the dark burning intensity in his eyes.
“Guillaume de Payne, born of house Ashere.”
Ashere, the line founded from the ancient mother goddess, Asherah. No wonder the man had managed to live for so long. I turned to Shara and held my hand out to her. She stepped around Daire and warily joined me, squeezing my hand like a lifeline, her knife gripped fiercely in her right hand. “My queen, Shara Isador.”
“I thought all Blood took their queen’s house name.”
He inclined his head but didn’t drop his gaze from her. “They do, unless they’re me. I’ve never taken a queen’s name, but I’m willing for you.”
“Why?”
“Because no queen commands me to come to you. I come freely to your call. I’ll accept your name. I’ll accept your alpha.”
“Why?” she repeated, her voice dropping lower. I felt the first prickle of her power, as if she only just remembered that she was a formidable queen with magic of her own.
Guillaume’s nostrils flared again and he inhaled deeply. He jerked his gaze to mine. “She’s breeding. Young, yet laden with power, without a nest of her own, and only two inexperienced Blood to guard her. And you haven’t killed me on sight? You’re either a fool, or…”
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. Isis’s blood only ran through my veins thanks to Her queen’s willingness to share her blood and power with me, but I felt Her certainty. She had sent this man to be Her last queen’s Blood. Who was I to object, even though his words stung? I was inexperienced. So was Daire. We’d never served a queen before. Let alone one with Shara’s potential stature.
He lunged toward her so quickly she couldn’t react. Eyes wide, she stared up at him, with her knife buried in his stomach.
“My queen. Take me. I’m yours.”
5
Shara
I stabbed him. Or rather, he stabbed himself on my knife. Hot blood poured over my hand.
I tried not to breathe. I didn’t want to draw the scent of his blood into my body. Because I knew what would happen.
It already was. And it was already too late. It’d been too late the moment his red flame flared in my mind.
He smelled like horse. A big, steaming hot, pawing the ground, rearing up angry warhorse. With a hint of ash and sulfur swirling around him.
My mouth throbbed where my nonexistent fangs should be. My stomach knotted with hunger. My hair flared out, tearing free of the rubber band to float about my head. And yeah, my pussy clenched with need, aching so hard that my eyes fluttered closed a moment and a groan of pain escaped. Fuck these cramps. Fuck my stupid hormones. Fuck this need to bite and rend and tear when I had no fangs. And fuck this desperate urge to bury this stranger’s dick inside me as quickly as possible.
I started to withdraw the blade, but his fingers wrapped around my hand, pulling the blade deeper into his body. A man I didn’t know. Bleeding for me.
Making me ache like I hadn’t had sex in years.
“Let go of me.”
My voice sounded strange to my ears, fragile and breathy, so unlike me. At least he obeyed, his fingers leaving my wrist. I let go of the blade, leaving the knife in his body, and turned away. Found Daire, still on the floor, and I went to him. I dropped into his arms and buried my face against his throat. Seeking his scent, trying to get the other man out of my head.
“I apologize for any offense I gave in ignorance, my queen.”
Daire cuddled around me. I could smell his fur even though he hadn’t shifted. And I still wanted the other man.
“It’s expected,” he whispered into my ear, so softly. “You need him. You need Rik. You need me. We know it.”
“I don’t want to need anyone else,” I whispered back.
But I couldn’t stop myself from lifting my bloody hand to my mouth.
I heard a groan and a heavy thud, as if Rik had punched the new Blood in the gut, but I was afraid to look. Afraid I’d bury my face in the stranger’s stomach like a lioness settling down over her kill, desperate to get more of his blood. Hunger swirled in me like a hurricane, tearing at my control, eroding my senses. It hurt so fucking bad.
But I didn’t want them to pity me. I didn’t want them to have to help me do something so… basic. How could I be a vampire queen if I couldn’t even bite and feed myself?
“She’s not feeding enough,” the stranger said, his voice hoarse. “You must take better care of her, alpha.”
“She refuses,” Rik answered, his voice even. But I heard his worry and frustration aching in the bond. “She’s not fully Aima and doesn’t have fangs.”
“The fuck she’s not full Aima,” he rasped. “You don’t feel her power? No fucking way.”
The new Blood sounded… rough. Like he was sick. Or hurt. Surely I hadn’t wounded him that badly. We were Aima. We healed easily. Quickly. But he did have a lot of scars and with his gray hair, he must be old, even for Aima. What did that mean—a few centuries? More? One pale, jagged scar down his forehead, another around his neck, and his hands looked… misshapen, almost. Like too many bends in his fingers.
I dared a quick peek over my shoulder. Shocked, I turned around fully.
He lay on the floor, gasping, his face as gray as his hair. He clutched the wound in his stomach and blood pooled through his fingers and ran down his side. Rik had gone down to one knee and supported his upper body.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He hasn’t fed in… awhile.” Rik offered his forearm to the man. “Our queen needs you hale and strong.”
“Thank you, but no,” Guillaume said, his voice weak. “I can’t drink from any but queens. It’s my curse and my strength.”
Blood. It called me. Sang a sweet melody. Crooning to my power, stroking my hunger to a fevered pitch. I didn’t want to feed if I didn’t have fangs. I’d sworn I wouldn’t. But I found myself crawling across the floor toward them.
“When did you last feed?” Rik asked him. “Which queen did you serve?”
“I haven’t served in over a hundred years.”
I jerked to a halt, surprise shaking me out of stupor I’d fallen into. My cheeks flushed. I was on the floor. On my hands and knees. Leaning down to lap at a dying man’s stomach. A man who’d only walked in five minutes ago.
But neither Blood looked at me with any accusation or condemnation. In fact, Rik looked downright relieved to see blood smeared on my face.
“Feed, my queen,” Guillaume whispered, even though his head lolled to the side. “I offer my blood freely to you though I have little power remaining. Take what you need.”
I tugged his shirt up enough to see the puncture wound. It wasn’t an ugly or big cut, so I still didn’t completely understand why such a small injury had literally floored him.
That crazy melody started in my head again. Like if I just listened hard enough, I’d hear the most beautiful song ever to be played on this earth. All I needed to do was to taste him.
I pressed my lips to the puncture and his blood filled my mouth. Sweeter than the other two men’s, almost like a glass of dessert wine with a chocolate chaser. The symphony rose in me, a rising flurry of drums and strings and horns that made me lock my mouth hard to his side and drink my fill.
Even if it killed him.
It suddenly dawned on me that he was dying. Literally.
The flow from his side had slowed to a trickle and his skin was clammy against my mouth. I raised my head, alarmed to see how ill he looked. His cheeks were sunken and hollowed out, though his eyes still blazed with dark fire.
He would lie here and die if I did nothing to save him, and his only thought would be relief that I’d at least feasted once on his blood.
How could I not trust someone willing to make that kind of sacrifice?
I offered him my wrist. He lifted his hand to draw me close, but his arm flopped down weakly to the floor. I pressed my wrist to his mouth for him. Ever so gently, he pierced me. It was almost sweet the careful way he bit into my skin. With a few swallows of my blood, his color returned. He managed to sit up on his own, his fingers wrapping around my wrist.
In a vise. Harder. His eyes blazed and he gulped faster, his mouth like a hot branding iron on my arm.
“Shara…” Rik growled.
“It’s all right,” I said, waving him off. “He needs a lot. I can take it.”
“Not when you’re not feeding yourself.”
Urgency rose in me. He needed my blood. A great deal of it. His hunger ravaged through our new fragile bond like a swarm of locusts devouring every scrap of greenery. He needed. He burned. He would die if I didn’t save him, and the loss of the last Templar knight in this world would be too great a travesty to bear. I heard Her silent promise in my head. If Guillaume de Payne died, so would I.
I had to bring him back to full strength.
Sweat broke out on my forehead, my heart beating too quickly.
Rik jerked me into his arms and locked his ow
n wrist to my mouth. Blood. I felt the torn skin against my lips and sent him a shot of accusation through our bond. He winced, but didn’t relent. He had to protect me, take care of me, even if that meant feeding me when I’d sworn I wouldn’t. Fat lot of good that did me. I’d tasted this new man too.
And still didn’t have a fucking pair of fangs to show for it.
His blood steadied me, though. My heart slowed back down. A languorous pleasure flowed over me. I fed one, while my alpha fed me. I connected them. I was their source, their heart, three hearts beating as one. In that moment, we were fully connected.
Except one was left out. Watching. Hurt. But afraid to intrude.
I sent a mental call and Daire came to us. I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted from him. I just wanted him to be a part of this. He needed to be touching me. Feeding. Connected.
His fingers settled on the fly of my jeans, a silent question. My hips arched up to him, so he unbuttoned them and tugged the denim down my thighs. My head was on Rik’s lap, his arm around me, his wrist still in my mouth. Guillaume still fed from my wrist like a starving man had found a table laden with a fantastic feast. And Daire lapped just as eagerly between my thighs.
It should have horrified me. My pants were around my ankles and I was bleeding heavily. We were all on the floor in the living room in broad daylight. We were expecting an overly inquisitive human to arrive at any time. Goddess only knew when Gina would be back. But I couldn’t find it in myself to care.
Not when the symphony rose ever higher, a sweet piercing crescendo that hurt to hear. It was too beautiful for this earth. Tears leaked from my eyes and I came so hard I blacked out, only it wasn’t dark at all. The music exploded with color. Too many for my eyes to even acknowledge or make sense of. Magical music that pleased our goddess. Greatly.
Isis smiled, her eyes glowing like a million stars against black velvet and stroked my cheek.
“Well done, my daughter. Well done indeed.”
6
Shara
Queen Takes King (Their Vampire Queen Book 2) Page 3
