So strange, but somehow it felt as though his name was a key, unlocking the final barrier between us. I could feel him, a connection deep and untouchable by any beyond us.
Faith completely restored, I relaxed against the bed. "Can I save it for . . . the right time?"
Joe, as I would continue to see him as until his true name left my lips, gave me a covert smile. "I'd like that very much." His face changed abruptly. Rising up on his knees, he yanked me up by the front of my dress, roughly pushing down the material to free my breasts. He spoke even as he buried his face between them. "Stop looking so damned content. Either fight me, or pull what you did with Cyrus . . . ." He gazed up to me, his lips close to my nipple. It was hard to think when all I wanted was for him to suck me into his mouth. Joe noticed and obliged me by circling a taut nipple with his tongue. "You know pissing off Cyrus wasn't the smartest thing you've ever done."
I nodded, closing my eyes and bowing back, giving in to the tantalizing sensation. "I'm sorry."
Joe shook his head. "Not yet you're not."
With that, he bit down.
I yelped and sat up, slamming my hand against his chest without thinking and sliding out from under him. Glaring at him, I caught the roguish grin he was giving me and silently cursed him. He had made the choice for me when it had become obvious I couldn't make it for myself. Which meant, as of this moment, I had to do my best to make it seem as though I was resisting him. Not what I wanted, at all, but it was a little too late to protest now.
Accepting the role I'd been handed, I decided to get him back by playing it out fully. A tug on the front of my dress and I quickly hid my breast away, side stepping around the bed so I could keep him in my sights as I put distance between us.
Braced up on one arm, Joe watched me, a predatory glint in his eyes. I sprinted to one of the tables and grabbed a large paddle. Faster than the eye could follow, Joe was before me, his hand around mine, squeezing my fingers hard against the handle.
Clucking his tongue, he grinned at me. "Interesting choice, Lydia. I know you enjoyed it last time."
I kicked him in the shin, an ineffective kick because of the soft slippers I was wearing, though it would probably have been in any case. "Fuck you, Joe. What is it, are you afraid you can't take me anymore without force?"
He laughed. "I don't need to use force, my sweet. But I will because I know how wet it makes you."
Teeth gritted together, I tried to free my hand. "Nothing about you nasty bloodsuckers makes me wet."
A sharp tug brought me hard against his chest. "You know that's not true, Lydia.
Do you think I've forgotten how easy it was for Bruno to get you dripping for him? He had you bent over without a whisper of protest." I bit my lip, noting the twinge of bitterness in his tone. He kissed my nose, a move that appeared patronizing, but I knew what he was doing. He was letting me know the bitterness was feigned. "If it helps your pride to fool yourself then I'll allow it. I won't even gloat when you're writhing under me, begging for it."
Scoffing, I tried to wrench away from him. "How very fucking generous."
"I can be." He nuzzled his face against my throat. I closed my eyes, suddenly wishing he'd bite down. Memories of how good it felt to be fed from when it wasn't done in violence shook the defiance from me. "Do you want me to do it?"
Yes, I thought. I managed to shake my head, but the lie wouldn't pass my lips.
"Not yet, Joe!" Cyrus sounded angry. This obviously wasn't going as he'd planned.
Warm lips parted against my flesh. No teasing now. He bit down. The intense feel of him sucking down immediately overtook the pain. My hot blood pooled into his mouth, and I could feel him swallowing. Without parting from me, he pulled down the dress in a smooth, sure motion. I didn't protest when he lifted me, carrying me to the bed.
I expected him to enter my body, already moist and ready for him, as easily as he had slid his fangs into my flesh. Instead, he stroked his hands down my sides, lifting me against his still fully clothed body, drinking ever deeper. I felt weakness take me and moaned in complaint, wanting him to stop before he went too far. He didn't stop. I didn't have the strength left to panic.
Fear boiled within. He was going to kill me.
Just as darkness took my vision, he slipped from me, licking the wound closed. I heard him stand, heard his clothes fall to the floor. He turned me over. My body was still wet, and he drove into me with a deft motion, his whole body pressed over mine. I managed a whimper, wishing I could enjoy what appeared to be my last moments of life. Joe bent down and turned my head so he could kiss my lips.
"Say it, Lydia." He urged.
I didn't think I could manage it. Mouth open, I paused. Pain seared through my veins. I closed my eyes against it. The best I could get out was a whisper. "Daederich."
Daederich smiled at me when I opened my eyes, showing me he'd heard me. I watched him lift his wrist to his mouth, gashing open his flesh with his teeth. "Good girl." He pressed his wrist to my mouth. "Now drink. Quickly."
The copper warmth spilling into my mouth almost made me gag. But instinct took over, and I found myself latched onto him, drawing out as much as I could.
I heard the shouting in the background. "Stop! Damn you, I said stop!"
My body seized, and I curled in against the pain in my gut. Daederich kissed my hair, drawing from me, holding me as the change overtook my body. The way my blood fired inside me, I felt as though my flesh would melt away. I tried to arch back.
Daederich's strong arms kept me still until the gripping force calmed, leaving me still and weak. But alive.
"You'll regret this, Joe. I'm going to make you watch us tear her apart." Cyrus's voice snapped out, sounding so close, though I knew he hadn't come any closer.
Leaving me to compose myself on the bed, Daederich stood, spreading his arms wide. "Come on then, Cyrus. Come teach me a lesson for my defiance." He let out a mocking laugh. "But for future notice, sire, it's Daederich. You couldn't draw out such a simple thing as my real name, even when I was mortal. What kind of power do you really think you have over me now?"
In the silence, I felt cool control return to me. Sitting up, I held the sheet to my chest, level breaths drawn in and released as I regained my bearings, knowing I had little time to accustom myself to the distraction of my finely tuned senses.
Daederich turned to me. Smiling his encouragement, he unbuttoned his black silk shirt, draping it over my shoulders. He pressed a soft kiss on my brow. "There's a pair of jeans under the pillow. Hurry."
I nodded. Slipping my arms through the sleeves of his shirt, I rolled off the bed even as I did up the buttons, reaching under the pillow to grab the aforementioned jeans. Daederich had been right about hurrying. Perched on the edge of the bed, jeans barely up to my knees, I heard the order. I pushed away from the bed and tugged them up the rest of the way.
"Kill them!" Cyrus was shouting. The doors, one of them for each wall, opened wide.
Daederich tossed me a whip. I caught it, then abruptly let it fall to my feet. My hand itched for something else entirely.
A hand came across my face, clawed so when the palm hit my chin the nails raked down my cheek. My eyes snapped toward the female figure who had struck me.
She took another swing, so fast I couldn't follow it with my eyes. It shocked me when I caught her wrist.
The heel of my palm connected with the bridge of her nose. She howled in pain, cupping her hand over her face. A deft leg sweep took her from her feet, and I turned to the next attack without pause. The man went down as quickly as the woman had. I didn't even glance his way as he fell. My eyes were locked on something, just out of reach.
Two steps and I grabbed hold of a broad shoulder, jerking the man around to face me. In the very same motion, I yanked the sword from the sheath on his back and took his head. The look of shock was still on his face as his head hit the floor, his body following seconds later.
The sword felt so natural in my hand, I
knew I'd used one before, in the life I couldn't recall. More heads rolled, and, when I didn't take their heads, I spilled open their guts. Blood soaked my borrowed shirt, and I found myself licking it from my fingers as I searched for my next target. Someone touched my arm.
In a swift turn, sword blade out against my forearm, I attacked.
Daederich caught the blade in his bare hand. Pushing it down, he levelled his face with mine. "We've killed all those stupid enough to rush into the room. The rest are regrouping. We have to go. Now."
I gave a curt nod and stepped back, bending down to clean the sword on the pristine white shirt of one of the bodies on the floor.
Daederich took my hand, pulling me toward the large door the audience had left open when they'd abandoned their fellows to our wrath. He shot an approving smile back my way. "You're something else with that sword."
I smiled back, feeling elated and so very alive. "Thank you. I didn't do it alone though." I looked him over. He was just as soaked in blood as I was. "You don't have a weapon."
He stopped once we had reached the hall, arching a brow at me. "I didn't need one." He glanced at the sword. "And seeing how you fight you probably could have done without one as well." He laughed and tugged me along with him. "I'm glad you had it though. That was sexy as hell to watch."
I stared at the back of his head as we ran down the hall. I hadn't seen a thing other than the bodies falling when I'd been fighting. How much better than I must he be if he'd had the time for the observation?
Chapter Sixteen
I winced, then scowled at myself for doing so as Daederich pressed the alcohol soaked rag against the gashes on my cheek.
His lip quivered. "Hurts?"
Now I scowled at him. "Yes. Shouldn't I be immune to pain or something now?"
Daederich chuckled and shook his head. "No, you're just a First Blood fledgling.
Sorry to say it, babe, but you aren't that much stronger than when you were mortal."
Part of me wanted to frown, but I smiled at the fond "babe." "Something about your tone makes me think you're on a different level." I waited for his nod. "So you want to enlighten me, oh wise one?"
Brow creased, he stood, setting the bloody cloth on the table by the bed. "I can't tell you much. All I know is that there are three different levels. Cyrus brought me to the third. I'll do the same for you when you're ready."
I accepted it. To my mind, there was absolutely no rush.
Our escape, two nights before, had been a thrill. We'd found the door leading up from the long hall at the other end of it. Beyond had been a staircase. Taking it up, we reached what had looked like the first floor of an elite office complex. Leaving the building had confirmed it. The towering high-rise had lifted clear out of sight, obscured in the darkness.
From there, Daederich had led me down several streets to a car, a big black thing he had found the key for under the passenger seat. It had taken so little effort to find it that I'd been sure it must belong to Daederich. He'd confirmed the fact for me not long after.
After fifteen minutes of driving, we'd arrived at a hotel where the staff had immediately recognized him. As Joe. We'd gone to a room where Daederich had several bags. We hadn't stayed. Once the bags were in the car, Daederich had gone to the hotel safe and retrieved some money and a wicked-looking gun.
Two hours of driving out of the city and into another, and we'd arrived at the hotel we were staying in now. Upon arriving, bath and bed dominated in my mind. An hour soak, followed by a thorough scrubbing under a scalding shower, and then a day and half the night of sleep.
The first morning, Daederich had sent me shopping for some luggage and clothing for myself. I'd been afraid to step out into the sun, but it hadn't been a problem.
My eyes were slightly sensitive, but, other than that, nothing had changed.
Joe couldn't say the same. Just walking me to the lobby had left him with severe burns that had thankfully faded away during sleep. He was learning his limitations the hard way.
Limitations that occurred to me now. "Maybe we should wait. I can still go out during the day. That could prove useful."
Daederich levelled his eyes to my face, very serious now. He nodded slowly.
"Yes, but you'll be vulnerable. Those people we fought were nothing but lemmings without our training."
Standing, stretching, I shot him an impish grin. "You're assuming it's not just natural talent."
Rolling his eyes, Daederich reached out, pulling me to stand between his thighs.
"Cocky brat. There's no way you can fight like that without some serious training."
I wrapped my arms around his neck and sat in his lap. "What the hell was I training for? Do you think it was just simple martial arts?"
Without pause, he shook his head, resting his arms around my waist. "It's too varied. Too automatic. There's no way it was a hobby."
I nodded, not really caring, and bent my head against his throat. His sweet scent lofted over me. Suddenly, I was very hungry. Without thinking, I opened my mouth against his neck.
Daederich stood and sat me on the bed, stepping back. "No, Lydia."
Even as I heard the command, I felt it. The smile that had been on my lips vanished. Eyes wide, I stared at him. "What did you just do?"
Holding his hand up for calm, Daederich crouched down in front of me. "I was just trying to help."
A burst of shocked fury rose high in my chest. "You can control me? You can make me do things . . . . "
"Lydia, I won't . . . ."
"You just did!" I pushed myself back, out of reach.
Daederich sat on the edge of the bed and put his hand on my knee. "Look, forget about it. You're tense. Why don't I help you relax?"
The seductive tone of his voice wasn't enough to soothe my anger. Shoving his hand off my knee, I moved back further and dropped to the other side of the bed. "Are you planning on raping me now, Daederich?"
Daederich went very still. His steel eyes flashed in fury, and he stood. For a moment, I was certain the only way he would touch me would be to beat me senseless.
"How the fuck did you get that idea in your head?"
I crossed my arms against my chest, nibbling at my lip. "If you use that power you have to force me, it would be rape."
A sound of disgust left his throat as he pushed to his feet. "Yes it would be. I'm just surprised that you think so little of me."
Too late, I realized my mistake. The loss of control frightened me enough that I hadn't thought of the impact my words could have. I couldn't take them back. And worse, I wasn't sure I wanted to try.
The trust that Daederich had more than earned was harder for me to give now.
Not because of anything he'd done but because, no matter how much I trusted him, I wasn't sure I trusted anyone that much.
Daederich saw it in my eyes, the uncertainty, the bare resentment. Making a dismissive motion my way, he went to his bag and pulled out his cell phone. I watched him stuff his neatly folded clothes back into his bag and kick it back into the closet without bothering to close it.
"Daederich . . . ." I had to say something. I didn't know what, but I couldn't leave things as they stood.
He made an impatient motion with his hand as he pressed a button and held the phone to his ear.
Curious, I listened to him speak in a language I didn't recognize, his tone changing midway, as though he was now speaking to a child. I sat back down on the bed, just watching him, wondering who it was. The smile on his lips as he spoke revealed his love, raw in the way his brow creased in hidden pain, which the foreign words didn't reveal. When he finally hung up, I expected his mood to have changed.
It had. He sounded utterly numb. "Get dressed. We're going out."
Chapter Seventeen
Out. Daederich's definition of the word was much different than mine. To me
"out" meant somewhere within the confines of whatever city we were in. To Daederich, it meant a three-hour drive, past
a border marked in a language I couldn't read and out into the countryside.
Our big black car pulled up in front of a towering old house, vines creeping up its dark gray stone walls, giving its majestic structure a haunting appeal. Before we'd left the car, the large, oak doors were thrown open, revealing a man so ancient it wasn't a stretch to believe he'd been born around the same time as the century old house.
The old man bowed slightly toward Daederich as we ascended the stairs. "It is a pleasure to see you again, sir. Alrik is excited to see you."
Daederich nodded, expression grim. "Have Sarah bring him to my chambers, Wilson. I'd like to speak with him. Alone." He glanced at me, almost an afterthought.
"Show Lydia to Laura's old room."
I stood there, stunned, as he simply walked away and left me with the butler. No introductions, no explanations, he simply dropped me with the staff and forgot about me.
It seemed whatever affection had existed between us had been left behind the locked doors of our prison.
The stooped old man took my hand, giving me an encouraging smile. "Mr. Jager has much to tend to. Do not take it as a slight. I'm sure he will clear things up very soon."
Forcing my lips to curve up as though I'd been put at ease, I shouldered my overnight bag and followed him up the winding wood staircase. The hall spread out before us, wide enough to walk comfortably side by side with a foot of space between us and the walls. Oil paintings lined the walls, portraying what I could only guess to be Daederich's ancestors. Between them were doors, so many that I quickly lost count.
Wilson stopped in front of one near the end of the hall and opened it, gesturing me inside.
"There's a little bath attached to the room if you'd like to make use of it," he said kindly. He pointed to a red velvet rope by the king-sized captain's bed. "Don't hesitate to ring if there's anything you need. I'll have something sent up for you shortly. Is there anything you would prefer?"
I thought about it. "Maybe some brandy?"
Sending a little wink my way, Wilson nodded and turned to leave. I made my way to the bathroom, not bothering to take in the rest of the lovely room. Right now, all I wanted was to soak in a scalding hot bath that had no price attached. Soak and forget my troubles, if I was lucky. Looking back on what I knew of my life, I couldn't say there was much chance of that.
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