These are the games that make living for centuries bearable, the queen thought happily.
A sharp feminine moan came from behind her and Dubheasa glanced over her shoulder. Her shift in attention revealed nothing but a row of red velvet curtains hanging over a series of hidden alcoves. The queen would be hard pressed to remember what she’d put in each of the various hidey-holes, but she knew exactly where that moan had come from.
“Saule is obviously enjoying her revenge.” She glanced down at the floor, admiring the prone bodies of the two unconscious vampires she’d recently acquired. Congratulations were most definitely in order. Not only had she managed to get a front row seat for Aldric’s erotic revenge on the sun goddess, she’d struck a deal with the sun goddess to gain two vampire lovers in exchange for setting up Aldric. “Really,” she said out loud. “It’s a win for everyone involved. Aldric got his revenge, Saule got her revenge, and I got to watch it all and take two prizes home with me besides!”
The sound of rustling leaves drew her attention. She narrowed her eyes as she noticed her servant still quaking before her.
“Rosemary,” she growled. “Why are you still here? Can’t you see I have guests to entertain?”
Sobbing, Rosemary fled the throne room on wobbling legs, not even sparing a glance at the two “guests” on the floor. It wasn’t until she’d vanished out the door that the queen realized she’d meant to make the sniveling sidhe carry the vampires to her bedroom.
“Bloody hell,” the queen muttered. She turned around and stared down at the two vampires. Their eyes remained closed, their eyelids smooth and their faces relaxed. For a moment she wondered if perhaps she’d used too much power to knock them unconscious. She prodded them each in turn with her foot. Nothing.
She frowned, but then shrugged. They were both over three hundred years old, to have used any less power may have given them the time they needed to fight it. Her plan required her to have them bound and helpless before they realized they were in jeopardy.
She toyed with the notion of summoning another servant to carry them for her, but discarded the idea. The fewer witnesses to her plan the better. She bent down and grabbed the first vampire by an arm and a leg, throwing him over her shoulder as if he weighed no more than a sack of laundry. Balancing him carefully on her shoulder, she bent her knees and grabbed hold of the other vampire’s ankle. When she had a proper grip on both of her prisoners, she straightened up and began the trek to her bedroom.
As she dragged them out of the throne room into one of the myriad of hallways in the sithen, Dubheasa cast her gaze around in search of more servants. As she’d expected, Rosemary’s demeanor seemed to have scared away any would-be witnesses. The hallway between the throne room and her bedroom was completely empty.
Dubheasa crossed the threshold of her boudoir and a little of the tension in her shoulders eased. Even among the nightmares of her own court, there were none who would dare to spy in her bedroom. Not without an invitation at least. Within these four walls, she was free from scrutiny. Throwing the two vampires halfway across the room onto the bed, she slammed the door behind her, a not so subtle hint to anyone who might be within hearing distance to stay away. Whirling away from the door, Dubheasa’s body tingled in anticipation as she focused on the two vampires lying on her bed.
They were not as handsome as some of the vampires she’d seen, but they were exactly what her fantasy demanded. Black hair, wild and uncombed, brushed their broad pale shoulders. Their squared jaws gave them a brutish appearance, helped along a great deal by the fact that each of them cleared six feet tall by a good three or four inches. No scars marked their skin, despite what Dubheasa knew of their violent lifestyles. Of course, that was understandable, if what she’d heard about them was true. After all, their kind had an advanced healing factor from birth. Unlike some other breeds of vampires, they did not have to die to get it.
Her gaze traveled over the expanse of their deliciously naked bodies. Their flat brown nipples looked dark in contrast to their ghostly pale skin. She raised her eyebrows at the sight of their smooth hairless chests. Based on their reputations as bloody barbarians, slaughtering generations of soldiers, she had to admit she’d pictured big hairy men waving double-sided axes and roaring to the night skies. The two vampires lying so peacefully on her bed were as smooth as alabaster. So beautiful . . .
Much too beautiful to hide beneath clothing. Dubheasa congratulated herself once again on her insistence that both Aldric and his men arrive at the Unseelie Court completely nude. It allowed things to progress in exciting directions so much quicker. She tilted her head in bemusement. Perhaps she would institute such a rule for everyone entering her court. No clothing for anyone. What a marvelous notion.
Tucking that idea away for future consideration, Dubheasa turned her attention back to the task at hand. She’d planned this for too long to let herself get distracted now. Careful to keep her eye on her unconscious prisoners, she hurried over to the bed.
The mattress was big enough for a family of trolls to sleep quite comfortably. It was somewhat awkward to climb into, but for someone who liked to entertain quantity in her bedroom, the end result was worth it. Dubheasa grabbed on to the foot high railing of metal bars and heaved herself up and over.
Once nestled comfortably inside, she grabbed one of the men by his shoulders and jerked him around until he was lying properly with his head on the pillow. She repeated the same for the other one. When she was finished, she crawled down the bed and grabbed one of the numerous sets of shackles hanging from the rows of bars and used them to bind one of each vampire’s legs to the rail. For what had to be the hundredth time, she sent a silent congratulations to her clever blacksmith.
The rail had been the unexpected result of her attempt to torment another of her servants. Brogan the blushing blacksmith had nearly fallen over with embarrassment when she’d stood in her throne room screaming at him because her ménage a cinq had been interrupted when one of the men fell off the edge of her bed. She had demanded that the blacksmith build her a bigger bed frame. Dubheasa smiled at the memory. Brogan had paled to a delicious shade of white when she’d told him if she ever had to suffer the indignity of having one of her lovers fall over the edge in the middle of their passion again, she’d see him tortured for the next three lunar cycles.
She trailed a nail over one of the thick bars lining the railing, a thrill racing between her legs as she jingled one of the many pairs of shackles hanging from the metal. Not only had Brogan managed to ensure her lovers didn’t fall off the bed—he’d made it even easier for the queen to indulge in all of her delicious fantasies. She’d been so inspired that she’d had him construct a lattice of bars to hang from her ceiling as well, forming an almost-cage around her bed. The bars allowed her to easily shackle anyone she pleased, in any position she pleased—holding them completely helpless against the onslaught of pain and pleasure that made her room echo with the screams of her lovers.
Tonight would be the piece de resistance. After years of searching and gathering information, years of planning and manipulating the pawns into place, she would finally experience the pleasure she’d yearned to feel for so long. After checking one last time to make sure both vampires had enough slack in their chains for the fun she had planned, she backed away from the bed. Excitement sent crackles of electricity over her skin as she sent a gentle pulse of power out toward the sleeping vampires.
Wake up, my lovelies. Wake up and show me your claws.
Her breath hitched in her throat as they both shot up in her bed, true soldiers at the ready even seconds after waking. Her heart pounded a fraction faster as she drank in the sharp alertness in their eyes, the tension in their bodies making her painfully aware of the strength barely restrained in the muscles bunching beneath their skin. It took all of her self-control to keep her face schooled in a mask of calm.
She waited patiently as they quickly scanned their surroundings, reorienting themselves to their
situation. Amusement tugged up the corners of her mouth as their eyes widened slightly at the metal railing lining the bed frame. The two vampires stared at the shackles, the first inklings of dismay tightening the skin around their eyes. After what felt like an eternity, the men raised their gazes to her face. She made a mental note to send Brogan a gift basket as she soaked up the thinly veiled threat in their eyes.
For a moment they just stared at her, their gazes twitching slightly as they examined her face for clues to her thinking. It was a futile goal. Satisfaction warmed her heart even as she kept her expression completely blank. Dubheasa was older than these vampires could ever hope to be and she’d spent her entire life perfecting an indecipherable mask. They could stare at her as long as they liked, but they would get no clues to her intentions until she chose to disclose them.
Dubheasa fought not to squirm as the tension in the room rose another notch. She wanted one of the vampires to speak first, allowing her to maintain the upper hand as long as possible, but if they didn’t speak up soon she would be forced to do something dramatic.
Patience.
“Where is Aldric?” the vampire on the left asked finally.
Dubheasa gave him credit for the steely tone of his voice. He didn’t sound nearly as apprehensive as most men who woke from unconsciousness to find themselves in her bed.
“Your master is at the tender mercy of his goddess.”
The two vampires frowned. She didn’t offer any more information, letting them imagine what they would. It suited her purposes for them to be off balance.
“As long as you’re going to be spending time in my bed,” she said casually, enjoying the way the vampires tensed at the insinuation. “I want to know your names.”
The one who’d asked after Aldric darted a glance at the other before answering. “I am Vincentas. He is Bron.”
“Brawn,” the queen repeated, pretending to turn it over in her mind. “Is that a nickname? Perhaps it is meant to emphasize your lack of brains?”
The other vampire clenched his teeth. “My full name is Bronislovas.”
I know. The queen smiled and dropped into a mocking curtsy, holding out her gown of shadows. “An honor, I am sure.” She dropped her hands, letting the shadows remain up as if she was still holding her dress. With full command over darkness and shadows, her dress often looked so real that people forgot it was composed entirely of shadows. She’d found that manipulating the shadowy garment in unusual ways reminded people that it was an extension of her power and not just an ordinary dress. Nothing annoyed her more than people who were not properly impressed with her shadow gown.
“You don’t have a shadow gown,” she said, continuing her thoughts out loud.
Both vampires tensed even further, darting furtive glances between them as if silently conferring on how to handle the situation. Dubheasa frowned. A lot of her subjects did that. She didn’t like being left out of the conversation.
“I don’t believe we mentioned a shadow gown, your majesty,” Vincentas spoke up carefully.
“I never said you did.”
Another sharing of glances. Dubheasa narrowed her eyes in annoyance. Before she could demand that they include her in those looks, Vincentas spoke again.
“We were brought here to guard our master.”
“You didn’t do a very good job.”
Bron’s jaw twitched as if he were grinding his teeth. Dubheasa didn’t bother to hide her amusement, letting her smile widen as she met Bron’s eyes. His ire cheered her up and she forgot their earlier exclusion of her. The anger darkening the vampire’s eyes promised punishment and she had to suppress a shudder of anticipation.
“Your majesty,” Vincentas implored. “We must return to our master. It was his wish that we remain at his back for the duration of his stay. Has he done something to violate your hospitality that you would separate him from his guards?”
“Aldric has done nothing to displease me,” the queen answered honestly. “It was my intention from the beginning to have an audience with you while your master . . . enjoys his revenge.”
Vincentas’ brow furrowed in confusion. “Why do you desire an audience with us?”
The queen raised her eyebrows, deliberately gazing from Vincentas, to the bed, and back again. The vampire’s eyebrows shot up and she couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
“Your majesty,” Bron ground out, his face tightening with rancor. “I believe this has been a case of mistaken identity. Vincentas and I do not share the . . . skills of Kurt and Anton. We are warriors, not lovers.”
“You say that as if the two are mutually exclusive.”
Her hungry gaze traveled over the naked bodies of her vampiric prisoners. Even without being erect, their cocks lay thick and heavy between their legs.
How . . . promising.
Dubheasa forced her gaze back to their faces. She of course knew about Kurt and Anton’s sexual proclivities, gifted as they were by their alp ancestry, but she was not interested in practiced seduction. Vincentas squirmed under her scrutiny. She raised her gaze to his face, expecting to see discomfort in his eyes. Surprise lifted her brows when she saw him watching her with what looked suspiciously like interest.
Well, well . . . Is it possible, Vincentas, that you will be a more willing participant than I had anticipated?
Once again Bron tore her attention away from his companion. “Am I to understand that you brought us here for . . . sex?”
There was such disbelief in his voice that Dubheasa stared at him in unmasked surprise. It was true that she’d heard these two particular guards did not spend much time bedding warm female bodies, but Bron seemed downright uptight about the entire subject.
Forcing herself to focus, the queen straightened her spine. Coaxing her face into its usual expression of amusement, she sauntered around the bed, rather enjoying the way both vampires stared at her like chickens watching a fox. Or rather, like a couple of foxes watching another, larger fox with a reputation for cannibalism.
“Let’s play a game. I am going to ask the two of you a series of questions. You will answer me honestly. If you answer my questions satisfactorily, I give you my word you will leave here happy and healthy.”
“And if we wish to decline?”
Bron shot Vincentas a dark look. “I don’t believe that is an option.”
He turned back to her and Dubheasa’s heart fluttered at the threat in his dark gaze. Her thighs quivered as she imagined what that sort of anger might contribute to a man’s thrusting. I will be lucky if I can walk . . .
“Ask your questions, your majesty.”
Oh, I want the threat in those eyes. Tearing her mind away from the titillating fantasies building steam in her imagination, the queen smiled and nodded.
“All right then. First of all, tell me what you are.”
Both vampires frowned in unison.
“We are vampires.”
Dubheasa rolled her eyes in exaggerated impatience. “Yes, Vincentas, I know you are vampires, but I want you to be more specific.” She met his eyes, alert for his reaction to her next sentence. “To say a man is a vampire is to say an animal is a dog. What I am asking you, my dear vampires, is what . . . breed, are you?”
There it was--a flicker of surprise. It must have been some time since they’d dealt with a creature knowledgeable enough about their species to ask such a question. So many beings assumed vampires were all the same, with only minor variances in their powers. It seemed a shame to underestimate such an interesting animal. Dubheasa smiled a little wider. She never underestimated anyone. “Come now. Be a good dog.”
The two vampires flinched. Again they exchanged glances, but this time the queen wasn’t offended. They would answer her question.
“We are vukodlaks,” Vincentas whispered finally.
Both men tensed as the sound left Vincentas’ mouth, their faces tightening as if in pain. The word fell from his lips with the weight of a secret that had not been spoken for so
long that it had nearly been forgotten, had nearly ceased to be true.
“Vukodlaks,” she repeated. Excitement swirled inside her. “So it’s true. Before your deaths, you were werewolves.”
The two vampires nodded stiffly. Dubheasa paused. It did not take a seer to know that this was a delicate subject. If what she’d heard from the darkness was true, there was an ocean of pain inside the men before her—an ocean that could drown her if she let it. She squared her shoulders, holding her goal in her mind. Nothing worth having is ever easy to get.
“So where is your pack?” she asked lightly. “From what I understand, vukodlaks remain a part of their pack even after their transformation.”
The black cloud that fell over the two guards was instantaneous and all consuming. Dubheasa wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised to hear thunder rumbling around her or to see lightening flashing in their eyes. They glared at her as if she’d just plunged a dagger into their guts and then asked them how it felt. Her heart pounded faster, her mind trying to race ahead to what that anger would mean when she finally joined them in bed.
Revenge in Vein, The Complete Series Page 5
