Leo shrugged but did not speak. When it became clear that Wyden would not continue unprompted, however, he sighed inwardly and flashed a thin smile.
“And you, Your Grace?” he asked. “Have you had such an experience?”
“I would think that obvious!” Wyden laughed. Reclining, he lifted his leg until the knot of fabric tied below the knee was visible over the table. “I spent two months in bed after the physicians removed it, of course. But as soon as I could walk again—or hop, as the case might be—I went positively mad. I doubt there’s a brothel in Ansiri where I didn’t spend a sovereign or two. Hell, a few of them might still have my portrait on the wall.”
Despite himself, Leo chuckled. “I doubt I have the endurance for such a feat, Your Grace.”
“Nonsense,” Wyden said dismissively. “You’re young. The young always manage. That’s why you’re still alive.”
“I suppose,” Leo said. “But, Your Grace, I assume you didn’t summon me to brag about your… prowess?”
This time, it was Wyden who chuckled. Leaning forward, the man studied Leo knowingly.
“Correct,” he said, after a moment. “I asked you here for a far more important reason. But first, how goes this campaign of yours?”
“Campaign, Your Grace?” Leo asked.
“Don’t play stupid, Leo,” Wyden snapped. “This slaver of yours. The one challenging Olden for alderman. I hear his first speech was quite… controversial.”
“It was… provocative,” Leo admitted. “Nicolo had a great deal to say about taxes and the burden they represent to Ansiri’s merchant class.”
“I understand he also had quite a bit to say about the Duke,” Wyden said. “Something about sovereigns belonging to the unwashed masses, rather than him .”
“He may have mentioned something of the sort.”
“I don’t think I need to tell you what a… precipitous statement that could be,” Wyden said, choosing his words carefully. “This city is toying with calamity, Leo. A small number of plantations in Sutherpoint have already refused to send their tithes. If your friend’s notions were to spread, the consequences could be far more disastrous than anyone is prepared for.”
“I’m aware,” Leo said. The count’s words were courteous, but the threat behind them was abundantly clear. “Nicolo may be something of a firebrand, but that’s only because of how late he entered the campaign. Besides, he’s only saying what the merchants are already thinking.”
“That,” Wyden said. “Is precisely the problem. It doesn’t matter what they grumble about with their peers over drinks. But when a potential alderman begins spouting such things, that grumbling can quickly become shouting and rioting in the streets.”
“It’s empty campaign rhetoric. After the election, it will all disappear. Nothing will change.”
Wyden stared at Leo hard. From his expression, it was clear that the count disagreed. But, rather than argue the point further, he merely shrugged.
“I hope you’re correct,” he said. “Because this city is quickly becoming an even more dangerous place. If barons can be attacked in the streets, the same is true of problematic aldermen.”
Leo said nothing. This time, however, Wyden did not wait for Leo to advance the conversation. Reclining, he took up his tea again.
“You’re not a fool, Leo. I assume you did not enter politics on a whim. What else are you doing about Terras?”
If it hadn’t been for his several conversations with Davin, Leo might have been taken aback by Wyden’s knowledge of his plans. Under the circumstances, though, he was prepared. Not that he was thrilled by the prospect of sharing those preparations, of course.
“The election is only a part of it,” Leo explained. “I’m also dealing with the VanAllen situation. Terras wants to extort a tidy sum from Petre in exchange for his family’s reputation. I’m working to address it before he gets the chance.”
“Good,” Wyden said. “What else?”
“I’m not… certain I follow, Your Grace.”
Wyden sighed, setting down his empty teacup and fixing Leo with a disappointed stare. The expression was so like the ones Leo had occasionally received from his grandfather that he was completely taken aback by the count’s next words.
“I’m talking about Orczy. How do you intend to deal with the soon-to-be baroness?”
“I’m not sure,” Leo said, stupidly, before he could stop himself. Steeling himself, he folded his hands in his lap. “I intended to deal with her after I resolved things with Terras.”
“That may prove unwise,” Wyden said. Though his face remained unchanged, something in his voice gave unexpected weight to the words. “I recommend you not underestimate her, Leo. You are an up-and-coming power in this city and your path to a higher title is fairly obvious. If I was able to deduce who your targets should be, it won’t be long before others do the same. Wait too long and you may find yourself targeted when and where you can least afford it.”
“What are you trying to say?” Leo demanded. “Do you think Orczy sent that assassin?”
Sighing with undisguised exasperation, Wyden threw up his hands. “I’m not omniscient, boy! Just because I’m a count doesn’t mean I know every last thing that happens in this city. But if someone sends a trow your way, you should at least investigate the woman whose family imports half the slaves in Ansiri.”
Leo’s throat was tight and it took him a moment to recover sufficiently to speak normally. He couldn’t say whether it was anxiety or the frustration of being lectured by Wyden, but whatever the case, it required tremendous effort to keep from snapping his reply.
“Understood,” he said. “I’ll do just that, Your Grace.”
Not even bothering to look at him, Wyden gave a dismissive wave.
“Good. That’ll be all then, Baron.”
Leo stood, turned on his heel, and marched stiffly from the room. It was only the stitches in his hand that kept him from clenching it into a fist. In hindsight, his lack of defiance was probably fortuitous. After all, he was half-way home before he remembered that he’d forgotten to bow before leaving.
***
The cobblestones outside of Leo’s estate were clean by the time he arrived. The body had been removed by the City Watch the night before, of course, but they must have returned during his meeting with Wyden to wash the blood away. He stared at the spot where it had been for a moment until the aching of his palm proved too great.
Karran eyed him, her brow furrowed. She stepped close, but Leo stopped her with a shake of his head.
“I’m fine,” he said. “I just need a moment. Go on inside.”
She stared a moment longer, then nodded and turned to leave. Leo watched her go, exhaling a shallow breath and returning his gaze to the freshly washed cobblestones. The mystery they represented nagged at him, prickling the nape of his neck and palm in equal measure.
Then, with a quiet curse, he turned on his heel and stalked through the gate.
Inside the manor, he found a veritable menagerie waiting for him. Nyssa was there, looking weary and satisfied in equal measure. Karran, too, stood nearby. She’d evidently filled the last few minutes conversing with Nyssa in hand-speech but stopped abruptly when he entered. The most surprising member of the makeshift welcoming committee was Sann. She stood alone, the others keeping their distance, but the isolation did not seem to bother the drakonid. Rather, she grinned toothily at Leo’s glance and unfurled her wings until the body below was nearly visible.
From their expressions, Leo could see that each woman was about to speak over the others. He preempted them all with a curt gesture, then nodded to Nyssa.
“You first,” he said.
“Master,” Nyssa said, bowing slightly. “We found her.”
“Aileen?” he asked, surprised. He’d expected it to take far longer for the trow to locate VanAllen’s supposed lover, especially if she was as well-protected as he’d assumed. “Where is she? Where’s Mihal? How did you find her?”<
br />
“My anathki is observing the Terras estate,” Nyssa explained. “We spotted the woman leaving the last two nights. She’s pregnant, so it was easy to identify her and even easier to follow. It seems she keeps another child—a boy—with a family near the docks.”
“You’re sure it’s her?” Leo demanded. He stepped closer, without even bothering to remove his boots. “It couldn’t be another of Terras’ maids?”
“I don’t believe so, Master,” Nyssa said. “Both times, she took great pains to avoid being seen and returned before sunrise in the morning. She took no lover and had only the child for company. I can’t think of any other explanation.”
“Good,” Leo said. “Get some food, rest, a bath—whatever you need. Then, I want you and Mihal to take turns watching the woman until I instruct otherwise. See if she follows a pattern and notify me if anything changes.”
“Certainly, Master.” She bowed again, deeper.
“Wait,” Leo said quickly. “Before you do, what were you and Karran talking about?”
Straightening, Nyssa grinned. “She could hardly wait to tell me,” she said. “She wanted to report that the kobolds completed the tunnel this morning, before the two of you left.”
Leo blinked in surprise and glanced in astonishment between the ambrosian and the trow. Both females were grinning.
“That’s not possible,” Leo said. “I thought it wasn’t due to be completed for weeks?”
“I don’t know about that,” Nyssa said. “But Karran says it is. Apparently, it’s still quite small toward the middle, but the kobolds can fit through. She says they’re working on expanding it and reinforcing the weaker portions.”
“That’s excellent news,” Leo said. Per his protests, he hadn’t expected the work to be completed any time soon and found himself at something of a loss for what else to say. “Tell them, um, tell them to continue expanding it as they have been. After that, I’ll… I’ll check some maps and figure out what to do next.”
He almost expected Karran to balk at his lack of decisiveness. But judging by her grin, the ambrosian took his speechless hesitation as a compliment. She bowed, eyes twinkling. Her tail lashed energetically from side to side as she followed Nyssa from the foyer. Her pleasure didn’t stop her from pausing at the corner and casting a suspicious glance at Sann, however.
Where the others had seemed happy to wait for him, the drakonid did not. Her arms were folded, an impatient scowl creasing her otherwise smooth features. That impatience evaporated somewhat when Leo turned toward her.
“Yes?” he asked. “What is it, Sann?”
“Mating,” she announced, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You promisssed.”
Leo studied her. A part of him almost wanted to delay, just to see what the female’s reaction would be. But another, far stronger part of him craved the distraction she offered. Despite the successes Nyssa and Karran had announced, his pride had still be stung by the meeting with Wyden. He could use something to take his mind off the more frustrating matters.
“Why not?” he said.
Chapter Twelve
Leo had expected a degree of personalization to Sann’s rooms, given the drakonid’s pervasive instincts. What he had not expected upon entering was to find the room in utter disarray. The bed had been moved to the center, its sheets and pillows wadded up in a gross approximation of an enormous nest. The rest of the furniture had been dragged from the walls and positioned around the bed like the walls of an old-style fortress.
“At least you didn’t tear it up this time,” he teased.
Sann pushed past him with a hiss, vaulting effortlessly over the furniture barricade and landing on the bed. She crouched there, eyeing him.
“C-c-clossse the door,” she instructed.
He did, then inched toward her and began to unbutton his suit. “So,” he said. “How would you like this to be? Gentle, like before?”
It was clearly not a question the drakonid had been expecting. Her brow furrowed as she considered his words, distracted by the sight of him undressing.
“I… do not underssstand,” she began, haltingly. “You are the male. It isss for you to sssay how we—”
“Fine,” Leo snapped. “Then lie down.”
Turning his back, he peeled off the layers of his suit, one by one, and laid them carefully over the edge of a chair. When he turned back to face Sann, he found her crouched on all fours, her tail and backside raised and pointed toward him. The only part of her face Leo could see was part of one eye, which gazed back at him in anticipation.
“On your back ,” he corrected.
Sann paused, lifting her head. “Massster?” she asked. “My back-k-k?”
“That’s right.” Stripping off his trousers, Leo hopped over the furniture and onto the bed. Kneeling beside the drakonid, he trailed a finger down her spine, exploring the unfamiliar shape where her wings joined her shoulders. “On your back.”
Somewhat awkwardly, Sann rolled to obey. She seemed to have trouble arranging her wings in such a position, but that served Leo’s purposes just fine. He watched with growing arousal as she squirmed in search of a comfortable position.
This time, when he touched her, it was in the opposite direction. His finger traced its way down her collarbone, between her breasts, and down the smooth expanse of her belly. Unlike Karran’s oppressive body heat, Sann’s felt unnaturally cool, as though she’d just come in from a brisk winter’s stroll. That sensation vanished when he reached the bottom of her, however. Sann’s folds were as warm and wet as any woman’s and rose to press against the digit that brushed her.
“Easy there,” Leo murmured. He pressed a hand to Sann’s hip and guided her back down again the mattress.
Hissing, Sann glared up at him. She did not fight but was obviously displeased by the order. “Isss not right,” she complained. “Thisss isss not the way.”
“No?” Leo said. “You’d prefer I treat you like a piece of meat?”
Sann grimaced and averted her gaze. “No,” she said, softer.
Leo kicked off his underclothes. Immediately, Sann’s grimace vanished and her gaze locked on his manhood. It lingered there, hungry and unblinking, until he’d successfully navigated his way between her thighs. Using an ankle to keep the drakonid’s tail restrained, he loomed over her and gently pinned her wrists down on either side of her horned head. The sudden pressure made his injured hand throb and he quickly compensated by shifting most of the pressure to his fingers.
“Then how’s this?” he said. “I’ll treat you exactly how a mate deserves to be treated.”
Sann opened her mouth, but whatever she’d been about to say—protest or agreement—was lost to a moan as Leo angled his hips and sank deeply into her. He’d intended to merely grind against her, but was unprepared for the readiness of his partner’s folds. Sann’s sex swallowed him without protest, the warm friction of her thoroughly drenched insides providing a delightful contrast to the outward coolness of her skin.
It took a great deal of effort to keep from thrusting immediately, but Leo managed it. Panting slightly, he leaned forward and pressed his chest against Sann’s until their faces were mere inches apart.
“Well?” he whispered. “How does that sound?”
Sann’s eyes met his. Her resentment and indignation had vanished, leaving only tender submission. Staring down at her, Leo could almost forget that she was not human.
“Good, Massster,” she whispered back. And then, so swiftly he had no chance to prepare for it, she leaned up and kissed him gently.
Leo kissed her back, unable to decide whether he was more surprised or pleased by the change in Sann’s behavior. So long as it did not affect her prowess in protecting his estate, he would not complain about this new, affectionate side of her. And, if nothing else, it was reassuring not to have to wonder if she might snap and assault him at any moment.
He began to move, slowly at first, then more and more vigorously. The wa
lls of the drakonid’s pussy clung to him with each thrust, tightening and easing in time to the motion of his body. He could feel Sann’s wrists struggling weakly against his restraining grip, but he could see in her eyes that they were feigned struggles at most. If anything, Sann seemed intent on pulling him more firmly into her body’s embrace. Her legs hooked around the backs of Leo’s thighs, her taloned feet locking him in place against her.
Groaning, Leo doubled down on his efforts. His eyes sought Sann’s, holding her captive with his gaze as he systematically bucked against her. Remarkably, it seemed to be his focus that most pleased her, even more than the instinctive grinding of their bodies. She squirmed beneath his weight, the muscles in her wings flexing uselessly.
“C-c-cum for me, mate,” she hissed. Her voice was ragged and urgent. “Inssside me.”
Chuckling, Leo kissed her deeply. When their lips parted, however, he did not pull back but rather leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
“No,” he said. “Not yet. Not until you’ve given me everything.”
“What?” Sann croaked. “What do you mean?”
Leo did not answer right away. Instead, he pushed himself upright, released Sann’s wrists, and grasped her hips with both hands. Slowly, in time to the smooth, unceasing rhythm of his hips, he trailed his thumbs inward. They grazed her hipbones, traveling the short distance required to reach the spot where their bodies connected.
“Everything,” he repeated.
And with that, Leo bore down on the drakonid’s clit with both thumbs. Sann roared, back arching as he caressed her sensitive pearl. The flesh was stiff and warm beneath his fingers, at once resisting and inviting his precise touch. The more he did, the less controlled Sann’s reactions became. Her insides clenched and squeezed the length of his shaft in a merciless embrace, reinforced by the desperate pull of her legs behind his.
“Massster!” Sann exclaimed, urgently. “It’sss too muc-c—”
She bellowed out another roar, wings snapping outward until they extended beyond the clustered furniture. Her crimson eyes rolled, briefly meeting Leo’s before they disappeared once more beneath their lids. Her clawed hands, too, shook with unexpected energy. One grasped a breast and kneaded the flesh of it with a violence Leo would not have dared. The other lashed out, claw tips scraping furiously at the side of a low dresser.
Baron of Hearts (Master of Monsters Book 2) Page 9
