The Red Lily (Vampire Blood)

by Juliette Cross

  “It is true,” said Nikolai. “Do you know that there are four hart wolves who protect her as if she were their own?”

  “Hart wolves?” asked Friedrich in disbelief. “Those wild beasts have befriended a girl?”

  Nikolai shook his head on a laugh, softening his posture and the rigid tension in his back. “I was shocked myself to see it. I’d never heard of any befriending a human. Arabelle told me that the white female she calls Duchess and her two brothers were saved as pups by Sienna’s grandmother. Hunters had killed their mother.”

  “And what of the fourth?”

  “That would be the she-wolf’s mate. A fierce black male. He steers clear of me. One of the brothers is a mean-looking brute, too. He keeps a keen eye on me as well.”

  Friedrich leaned back and crossed an ankle over his opposite knee. “I can’t believe they haven’t torn you to pieces. They hate vampires. Or so the legends say.”

  “Oh, they hate us, there is no doubt of that. Too many vampires have hunted their kind for sport. But they trust Sienna. And, as I am her friend, they keep their distance and let me be.”

  Friedrich stared across the room toward the chaise. “You’re her friend, are you? Nothing more than that?”

  Nikolai wasn’t the kind of man who shared his pleasures with others. He was never the sort of soldier to brag of his conquests at balls and parties. And Sienna was neither a simple pleasure nor a casual conquest. She was far, far more. And he would have everyone know it.

  “She is quite a bit more,” confirmed Nikolai, a surge of fresh fury pumping through his veins. “And I will defend her to the death if I must.”

  Friedrich laughed. “Yes. I can see that is quite certain.”

  As if she knew they spoke of her, a soft sigh drew their attention to the chaise. Sienna pushed up into a sitting position, one palm pressed to her forehead. Nikolai shot over to steady her as she wobbled in place.

  “Easy,” he said softly, seated beside her, taking her hand in his with an arm around her waist.

  “Where am I?” she asked, voice raspy. “How long have I been out?”

  Her sleepy gaze found Friedrich standing before the chaise.

  “You are in my home at Winter Hill.”

  “Does your head hurt?” asked Nikolai.

  “Only a little.”

  “Let me get you some water.” Friedrich strode over to the sideboard and poured a glass of water, then brought it back. “Here.”

  She cupped the glass and drank half of it down. Her hair had fallen loose from its braid during the mad dash across the country. The auburn waves around her face caught the firelight, shining like flames in the dark parlor. Her tousled hair and sleep-addled expression made her appear delicate and vulnerable, gripping an iron vise around his protective nature.

  No. It wasn’t just his nature. It was her, and he knew it. Everything about her called to him alone, demanding that he grab hold with both hands and never let go. Commanding him to understand one thing above all else. Sienna was his. Just as she owned him, body and soul. Her blood still sang a sweet serenade through his body, calling him to set the world on fire should anyone dare to harm her. There would be no respite for Volkov and his wayward comment toward her. Nikolai would shut his fucking mouth for good the next time he saw him.

  “Can I get you something to eat?” asked Friedrich, casting a frown toward Nikolai.

  The duke could probably hear Nikolai’s pulse race at the thought of revenge. Nikolai had to get control of himself before he spontaneously combusted. Thankfully, Sienna was human and could detect no change in him. She cupped the glass with both hands in her lap, gazing up at them.

  “No. I definitely can’t eat after that journey.”

  “I apologize,” said Nikolai on a deep exhale to gather some control. “I know it wasn’t pleasant for you, but I needed to get us as far away as possible. So they couldn’t track us.”

  “That royal sergeant,” she started. “Volkov. Do you think he was looking for us specifically? Or do you think it coincidence?”

  “Good question,” said Friedrich. “Please allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Duke Friedrich Volya of Winter Hill.” He offered a hand for her to shake with a warning look and arch of the brow at Nikolai to keep calm.

  Rolling his eyes, Nikolai fell into an easy state. “This is Marius’s kin. And our ally, as you know from Arabelle’s correspondence.”

  She shook his hand. “Thank you for the sanctuary.” Her gaze quickly turned to Nikolai. “Do you think we’re truly safe? I’ve heard vampires can track for far distances.”

  Smiling, content now that she was awake and seemed well, Nikolai replied, “They can. But these are newly made vampires. I can sense it in their unnaturally swift heartrate. They don’t have the honed skills of an older vampire.”

  “Like you,” she said, warming his heart to the core in the affectionate glance she gave him.

  “Yes.” He suddenly wished Friedrich would vanish into thin air so he could lay her back on the chaise and mess her lovely hair up a bit more.

  Friedrich cleared his throat, breaking the sudden trance between her and Nikolai. “So what is the plan? You had two more stops for recruiting, did you not?”

  “Three, actually,” answered Sienna. “According to my letter from Arabelle.”

  “Yes, but we won’t be going. We’ll be heading to Cutters Cove on the next tide.”

  “No, we will not.” Sienna was fully alert now, the fiery spark back in her eyes.

  Nikolai stared at her in wonder, his words sounding more stern than he intended. “Sweetheart, we cannot continue on. It’s too dangerous. We don’t know how Volkov found us and whether he doesn’t have scouts in every town from here all the way back to the Glass Tower.”

  “It doesn’t matter if he does. Surely, we’ll need to be more careful, but I won’t quit the mission now.”

  “You could’ve been killed.”

  “And so could you,” she said with a shrug. “It makes no difference. If anything, it only reinforces the need for recruits now more than ever.”

  “We’re going to Cutters Cove,” he said with finality.

  “No. We are not. We are completing the mission.”

  Her back was a rigid line, her chin set at the most stubborn angle. He wanted to kiss her senseless in order to soften her resolve. He could do it. Easily. Especially if he used his elixir. But then he would remove that blaze of passion from her hypnotic green eyes. The woman dulled his wits and his own common sense.

  “Well,” said Friedrich as if a decision had been made when they were most certainly at an impasse. “How about you both get some sleep and we’ll discuss it in the morning? You can stay in the suite next door. No servants but Grant are allowed in this part of the castle. It was a pleasure to finally meet you, my lady.” With a swift bow, he ducked out of the room, leaving them alone.

  Sienna followed his exit, her brow raised in astonishment. “Castle?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sienna lay in the dark. The fire that Nikolai had started for her before he adjourned to his connecting bedchamber had burned down to orange embers, hissing in the grate. Thin floor-to-ceiling windows with pointed arches lined the long wall of the room, moonlight spilling through.

  A wall-to-wall tapestry hung opposite the bed, as wide as her entire cottage. Woven with rich colors, the tapestry depicted a lovely scene of a dark-haired woman standing on the edge of a brook. The woman was dressed entirely in the trappings of a lady, except for her bare feet where she dipped a toe in the stream. The look of surprise upon her face, her mouth slightly parted in wonder, gave the innocent portrait a sensual tone.

  The ceilings were so high and her bed so large. Even though the room was furnished in lovely feminine touches and the thick brocade duvet was heavy and warm, she felt small and alone. She’d grown accustomed to Nikolai’s presence on this journey. It had become her constant comfort. Though he was only next door in the adjoining bedchamber thro
ugh the suite door, he felt leagues away.

  The incident in Lobdell flashed back in frightening display. That horrid vampire, Volkov, didn’t seem surprised to see her or Nikolai so far from the Glass Tower. Surely, he had been following them. She’d caught the glint of Volkov’s fangs when he smiled, if you could call it smiling. Then the world flipped upside down. She couldn’t make out who was hurting who with the primal growls and cries and crunching of bones. And the whole time the fight took place, all could she think was, don’t hurt Nikolai. She had feared being taken captive, but she had feared for Nikolai’s safety more. The memory of that raw horror punched her in the gut.

  A door creaked open, outlining the formidable figure of Nikolai in torchlight from the adjoining room. He shut the door and strode to her side, sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing only his trousers, his chest bare. He combed a hand into her hair, shaping his fingers to her skull.

  “I can hear your heartbeat from next door.” His rumble of a whisper softened everything inside her to jelly. “You’re anxious. What is wrong?”

  “You could hear me through the walls?” she asked in disbelief.

  “As if you were sleeping beside me.” He brushed his thumb along the apple of her cheek. “There is nothing to be afraid of here. No one will find us at Winter Hill.”

  “I wasn’t afraid of that.”

  “Then what?”

  Pulling her arm from beneath the covers, she placed her hand atop his on her cheek. He stilled.

  “I was afraid for you tonight. When those vampires attacked. If they’d hurt you, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

  He didn’t move. His thumb stopped stroking. Finally, he spoke, his voice as dark as thunder. “You need not worry for me, sweetheart. No harm will come to me. Just as no harm will come to you. I won’t allow it. I’ll die first.”

  On impulse, she turned her face into his palm and pressed a kiss at the center where the skin was softer than the callused pads. A sound that was part growl and groan rumbled from Nikolai. Then he tilted her face back toward his.

  “Why are you crying?”

  She hadn’t even realized she was. All of her emotions from the night had rolled together—the fear, the danger, the exhaustion, the relief—and had finally welled up and spilled over.

  On a sob, she said, “I don’t know.”

  He whipped back the covers and climbed in bed beside her. When she tried to scoot over to give him room, he gripped her waist and pulled her against his chest.

  “You’re overwhelmed,” he said, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. “And rightly so.”

  She finally let go, the tears falling fast.

  “Shhh,” he calmed her, trailing a hand up and down her spine as she lay on her side facing him. “It’s all right now.”

  The heat of his body was an iron brand, with nothing but her shift between them. Slowly, her sobs subsided, but her body still shook. She lay quiet against him, her emotions shifting from fear and despair to something else entirely, but just as raw and desperate.

  Continuing his soothing path down her back, he whispered against her temple. “Are you cold?”

  “No.”

  “You’re still trembling.”

  “Yes.”

  He rolled up so that she was partially beneath him, his otherworldly eyes shining in the dark. “Tell me why.” The roughness of his voice was a hard command.

  “You know why,” she said, unable to say it aloud.

  He rolled above her, then softly speared his hand into her hair and loosened the strands across the pillow, his gaze following the movement. Then he brushed the tips of his fingers over her lips, applying slight pressure till she opened her mouth. He leaned forward and sucked her lower lip into his mouth, nicking with a sharp pinprick of one fang. Only a drop of elixir, but it spread liquid euphoria through her blood, dulling her anxiety. He licked over the spot with his tongue slowly, so slowly, then lifted away and stared down, a fierce expression marring his face.

  “Tell me why,” he repeated, more growl than words.

  She feathered her hands up his chest, the rock-solid muscle tight and flexed. “I want you, Nikolai,” she confessed into the dark. “I tremble because I’m terrified of how you make me feel, of how you make me yearn, of how badly I want to know what it would be like to have you inside me.”

  He swept away another errant tear that slipped down her cheek. “No more tears.” He shifted on top of her, the weight a delicious relief. “Tonight, you will think of nothing and feel nothing but the pleasure I give you. Do you understand?”

  She nodded woodenly.

  When he leaned down for what she’d been yearning for since their first kiss, she blurted out, “I am still a virgin.”

  He stopped, hovering so close. “Do you tell me that because you want me to stop? Or because you’re nervous at having no experience?”

  Breathless from anticipation, she admitted, “The latter.”

  “Good.” He pressed his mouth to hers, lining the seam of her lips with his tongue, then said, “Tonight is about your pleasure, sweetheart. And yours alone. I would not take you when you are so overwhelmed by what happened at Lobdell.” He pressed a brief kiss to her lips, then pulled away again. A tease that made her whimper. “I am glad you are a virgin. Because when I do take you, there will be no question in that brilliant brain of yours that you”—he flattened his palm just above her breasts, fingers splayed wide—“belong to me.”

  Slanting his mouth over hers, he licked inside with a sensual stroke. He skimmed one hand down her side, grazing her hip, then under her thigh. With a firm grip, he crooked her leg and seated himself between. Pushing up on his arms, he broke the kiss, his rippled abs flexing in the moonlight when he straightened his arms and rocked his hard shaft against her sex. She hitched in a breath, latched both hands onto his tight biceps, and squeezed.

  “Nikolai.”

  He rolled his spine and gave her the same beautiful friction. She crooked her other leg, opening wider for him. His eyes glinted silver. She tried to pull him down, wanting his lips on hers, but he didn’t budge. He remained above, grinding his hard body against her core. Closing her eyes tight, she begged.

  “Please, Nikolai.”

  Finally he lowered his torso and nuzzled her neck with a sharp nip of fangs, just enough to break the skin and give her a teasing taste of elixir. He laved his tongue over the shallow puncture, then skated his mouth lower.

  Breasts heaving, the transparent shift nothing more than a thin veil, he opened his mouth on her nipple and sucked hard through the fabric. Sienna cried out, arching her spine and pressing closer, her hands scraping down his back. He flicked wickedly with his tongue, her nipple pressing against the wet fabric.

  “More, Nikolai.”

  Then he was on his knees, towering above her, her knees crooked and spread wide. He hiked the hem of her muslin up, the fabric gathering beneath her breasts and set to placing open-mouthed kisses, hot and wet, from her ribcage down across her belly to her pelvic bone where Sienna gasped. Her hips thrust up in reaction to his rough nips on her hip. Then he lowered to her thigh and nuzzled the sensitive flesh on the inside. Sienna squirmed as his lips and warm breath grazed her inner thigh and the hyper-sensitive cleft above, his touch sending waves of trembling need between her legs. She could hardly bear it, his warm mouth so close to her sex, even as she yearned for him with maddening need to kiss her there.

  He looped an arm under and around her thigh, clenching his fingers into her flesh and keeping her still. She stared down, unable to remove her gaze from his hungry expression.

  “Do you need to feed?” she asked, knowing there was an artery in the thigh. Perhaps his urge was too strong to resist. “It’s okay if you do.”

  The look he gave her was so primal, she could see his lineage, his vampire bloodline shining bright and primitive on his face. A shiver shot through her, that instinctive part of herself warning her she was in the presence of a fierce pre
dator, that she should tread carefully lest she fall victim to the beast with his claws and teeth so close.

  “Oh yes, sweetheart,” he said, holding her gaze. “I intend to feed right here.” He dipped his head low and licked his tongue between the folds of her sex in one long stroke.

  “Ah!” She cried out, clenching her fists into the sheets, spots hazing her vision when he did it again. “Oh my God.”

  He stroked a finger up and down the swollen nub between her cleft, her body wet from want of him. “I’ve been called a lot of things, sweetheart. But never that.”

  He slid a long finger inside of her. Her brain hazed, unable to hold onto a coherent thought. His fingers did wonderful, wicked things that coiled her body into a tight ball. She rocked up, pressing his finger deeper, then he slid a second one inside, pumping in slow, shallow strokes. The sensation so foreign, so lovely, so intimate.

  “That’s it, my sweet.” He thrust a little faster. She met his tempo, rocking her hips, chasing the mounting tension that rolled like an ocean wave gaining speed. He laved his tongue between her folds, his groan humming against her sensitive bud.

  She threaded one hand into his hair, moaning as she pushed her pelvis up and pressed down on his head, shameless wanton that she was, grinding her sex against his mouth. He chuckled. The slick sounds of his mouth and his fingers working her higher and higher. She cupped her breasts and squeezed as she arched her back. He growled from below.

  “Come for me,” he commanded, then opened his mouth over her nub at the apex and flicked rapidly with his tongue, his lips clamping down.

  Sienna screamed, every muscle from her neck to her toes flexing and freezing at once. Her inner walls clamped around his fingers, pulsing as fast as her racing heartbeat. For a moment, she could do nothing but stare at the vaulted ceiling, sucking in deep breaths.

  She didn’t know. Stars above, she didn’t know it could feel like this. The attentions she’d given herself had never felt that good. In her dreams, it had never felt that good. But then, it wasn’t him in the flesh. Not like now.