Beloved Vampire (58 page)

The swimsuit she’d chosen was a reasonably modest one, a one-piece with a low scoop back and high French-cut legs. The vee bodice showed off her breasts in a pleasing way. It wasn’t the string bikini with a thong bottom she’d found, which she absolutely would not be wearing among company like this. However, she knew certain aspects of her appearance were required to be attractively displayed if she was going to be joining them as his third-marked servant. Otherwise, it was a slap at his dominion over her. He’d given her something no vampire she’d ever known would have—a choice. She wouldn’t insult him before his guests.

Knotting the wrap low around her hips, she checked her appearance in the mirror and deemed herself ready.

She lost her courage halfway there, her breath starting to shorten, and detoured to the stables. Fortunately, Jorge had gone to bed.

If only Mason had some drugs in the house. Valium, Prozac. Hell, she should have chugged some whiskey. Wincing, she pressed her forehead against Hasna’s. That road was another form of helplessness. She could tell herself she didn’t have to do this, but she did. Mason had known it. Not for him, but for her.

“Oh, Hasna.”

The mare offered comfort in her way, pushing her nose against Jess for further petting until she won a smile. Straightening then, Jessica combed out Hasna’s forelock with her fingers. “Wish me luck, beautiful girl,” she murmured, and left the barn to go to the beach.

044

“The mystery guest has arrived.” Danny nodded toward the boardwalk. Lyssa acknowledged it with a flick of her lashes, but she’d already sensed the girl coming on the breeze. Her interest was in Mason’s reaction. He’d been the cordial host for the past few hours as the time moved past midnight, but Lyssa had picked up his waiting tension, a constant undercurrent, like the roar of the surf. He’d told them not to expect her, and they knew enough of Jessica Tyson’s circumstances not to question it. Which only heightened Lyssa’s interest and regard for her, as the young woman made her way toward them.

She was obviously frightened. She was pale, her movements stiff but determined, a soldier marching toward a battlefield in a lovely pale blue and lavender swimsuit and scarf wrapped low on her hips. Lyssa made note of the silver collar and bracelets, her Fey senses detecting the magic that hovered on them. A self-protection charm.
Interesting.

The female vampire knew Jacob would have sensed Jessica’s approach, and Dev, keen tracker that he was, would have caught her female scent of soaps and shampoos on the wind almost as quickly as the vampires had. But to their credit, the men did not turn, continuing their sparring. Mason was sitting on the edge of the boardwalk, outside the screened boundary of the gazebo, leaning back on a pillar and calling out his comments as they worked alternately with quarterstaff and sword, or hand-to-hand wrestling. Now, though, he twisted and held Jessica’s gaze as she moved up the boardwalk. As he did, her steps became more confident, her focus locking on him, an obvious lifeline.

“It won’t take much to make her bolt,” Danny observed.

“Don’t be too sure. She killed her own Master and avoided being caught for months. There’s more to this one than a frightened deer. Mason’s attention is not captured so easily.”

Despite his casual stance, Lyssa could feel the tension in his mind. The protectiveness. When Danny cast her an intrigued glance, Lyssa gave her an arch one in return.

As Mason lifted a hand to her, Jessica took it, trying not to grip too obviously with her cold fingers. He closed his over them, bent his head to nuzzle her knuckles, warm them with his breath. “You look beautiful,
habiba
. There’s wine in the gazebo. Why don’t you top off my glass and get yourself one?”

He handed her his wineglass, his amber eyes glowing with bolstering approbation, but as Jessica nodded, turned, she realized she’d be walking into the enclosed space with the two vampire women. She stopped, her feet refusing to move forward.

He closed his hand on her ankle. She’d worn an anklet of beaten silver, so it appeared as if she’d stopped at his mental command, giving him the ability to tease her skin, play with the tiny bells. She’d put it on as a pretty enhancement, but now she remembered what the style was called, those silver jewels that alerted others to her approach, her whereabouts. Slave anklet.

You belong to me,
habiba
. No one will harm you. No one will so much as touch you without my permission. That said, I can
decide I am not so thirsty—if you come sit on my lap and gaze at me adoringly.

Flicking him a startled glance, she saw the glint in his eyes. He almost surprised a smile out of her. Taking hold of herself, she shook her head, reached for the door latch. Her hand was numb on the wineglass. She was going to drop it by accident if she didn’t focus. She could do this. Mason was right there. Resolutely, she turned the knob, stepped inside the screened gazebo. The small bar with its array of wine bottles, ice bucket and slices of lemon and lime, was in the corner near the door, so she didn’t have to cross right in front of the vampire females on the swing.

Still, manners were manners. A servant’s gaze didn’t meet a vampire’s eyes unless specifically permitted, and in this case, she was relieved not to do so. She kept her glance on the bar. “My ladies, may I get you something as well?”

The first part came out as an undignified squeak, but she got the rest out in her normal tone after an embarrassed cough.

“Certainly. More of the red for me. Here’s my glass.”

Jessica nodded and moved forward, focusing on the glass. As she reached out to take it from Lady Daniela, Lyssa shifted to recross her legs. Jess jerked back and the crystal dropped in the open space. Fortunately, Lyssa’s hand flashed out and caught it, reminding Jess that broken glassware was a rare occurrence in any vampire household. Unless the vampire broke it deliberately.

She dropped to one knee on pure instinct, her head bent low. Not only as a sign of apology and respect. The convenient tuck was how she’d protected her face and fragile neck. A second-mark could heal better than most, but a broken spine would have been irreparable.

Mason was already on his feet, but Lyssa surprised Jessica.

“No. Mason, she’s fine.” The queen’s voice was firm. Jessica quivered as her hand touched her shoulder. Even though Mason had said Lyssa’s powers were Fey now, Jessica suspected the slim fingers closing around her collarbone could crush it. “It was only a dropped glass, Jessica. You’ve offended neither of us.”

Was she mistaken, or was that a quiet compassion in the woman’s voice? Before she could decide whether she’d imagined that, she felt another touch, one she’d forgotten in her focus on the two female vampires. From the bassinet between Danny and Lyssa’s feet, a small set of fingers had emerged and passed haphazardly over the crown of her bowed head. Then they latched with remarkable strength in her curls.

“Oh no, you don’t.” Lyssa’s hand withdrew. “Hold still a moment, or he’ll leave you with a bald spot. Let
go
.” She followed up the useless command by curling her hand over her son’s, prying his fist open and letting Jessica sit back. “Kane does like hair, and yours is quite lovely. If he’s been sucking on his fist as usual, he’s likely left some drool on your scalp.”

Jessica felt a sudden hysterical urge to laugh. She’d had far worse things on her head. Glass, blood, vomit, semen . . . She closed her eyes, her hands into fists.
Wine. Get them some goddamned wine and stop pulling yourself back to a place you’re not
anymore.

Rising, she turned away, hoping they’d forgive the lack of response, because it was all she could do to perform the simple task. A glass of . . . what was it? Oh, hell.

She kept her eyes down. “My apologies, Lady Daniela. What did you say you wanted?”

“Red will be fine.”

Of course. Very few vampires preferred white. The B-movieness of it was amusing, if anything could amuse her right now. But instead she clung to the one thing that seemed helpful. Kane’s fist in her hair. When she filled the glass and handed it to Danny, she couldn’t help but study the child.

She’d never seen a vampire infant. They were so rare, and this one appeared only a few months old. He was quite alert now, though, staring at her with those brilliant blue orbs. “He has his father’s eyes.”

She said it without thinking, not intending to address the ladies further, intending to get the hell out of that confined space into the open air of the beach. Perhaps decide she’d been plenty brave enough and escape to a beach walk, but the child fascinated her.

No matter the species, all infants were innocent at this stage, inspiring an urge to protect, to hope that he would grow into something worth protecting. Raithe had been a made vampire. The idea that he’d once been a human child, loved by a mother, made her physically ill.

“He does indeed. As well as his stubbornness. Would you like to hold him?”

Startled by the offer, Jessica’s gaze darted up to the queen. It was a full second before she recovered herself enough to realize she was meeting those jade eyes directly. Vampire infants were precious to their parents. She knew enough about vampires to know that. In fact, at Lyssa’s offer, she saw Jacob come to a halt in his sparring with Danny’s servant and wander over, with a casual interest that was anything but. She was a woman who had killed a vampire, after all. Which made the offer even more astounding to her.

“I . . . My lady honors me.”

“Yes, I do.” The queen’s offhand arrogance was so like Mason’s, Jess felt a wary stir of humor. “Would you like to hold him?” she repeated.

“I . . . Yes. Is there anything different about holding him?”

“No, he’s like most babies.” This came from Jacob, leaning on his quarterstaff outside the mesh screen. “Just cradle his head. His neck ’s not quite strong enough to support the overblown thing.”

He gave Lyssa a smile, but from the intent expression in his eyes, Jessica suspected the two were having a far more serious conversation. She saw an almost imperceptible shift in his expression, a bare nod, and then Lyssa was lifting the child.

The last time Jessica had held a baby, it had been when her older cousin came home from the hospital after giving birth. She’d held the child on her shoulder while the mother hugged her welcoming party. The baby had been asleep. Several times during her captivity Jessica had recalled that memory. She hadn’t appreciated the privilege, holding that tiny bundle of peace and innocence.

Now she glanced toward Mason, who leaned against a supporting post. While he was still outside the screen, he seemed close as well, his gaze caressing her face.

If she left him, what would it be like, having a relationship with someone who couldn’t be in her mind, know the yearnings of her heart and soul even before she knew them clearly herself? With Raithe, she’d hated it, longed to be free of it. In less than two months, Mason had made her see it, feel it, a different way entirely.

“Jessica?”

Jessica blinked back the unexpected moisture in her eyes, knowing the vampire queen hadn’t missed it. However, to her credit, the woman let her maintain her dignity. She simply nodded at Jessica’s arms, and Jessica lifted them to accept the child.

As she slid her arms beneath the small weight, it put her face close to Lyssa’s, their arms brushing. Perhaps because she remembered the wineglass incident, Lyssa held on until Jessica nodded, confirming she had him. Slowly she straightened, holding the baby in her arms.

Kane gazed up at her, unconcerned by this new stranger in his life. While his eyes brightened when they went to her hair, fortunately he seemed more interested in waving his hand at her now. Jessica automatically closed her hand on his and he latched on to her finger, curling his own tiny ones around it. He smelled like baby. Powder and diaper, but not milk. Something more . . . metallic. Of course, a vampire baby would feed on blood. The thought didn’t disturb her as much as it might have, not with the wide blue eyes examining her so closely.

“He’s beautiful,” she murmured. “He’s going to be so handsome.” He would be a replica of his father, the strong face and blue eyes, with his mother’s dark, silky hair. Like all vampires, he would be irresistible.

“Thank you,” Lyssa said, her attention on her child. There was an ease to her mouth that suggested pleasure, but she didn’t appear to be a woman who smiled often. Of course, Jessica had seen things in five years that should have eradicated her ability to smile at all. What if she’d been around for a thousand years, like Lady Lyssa? Mason, too, was more reserved than most vampires she’d known.

She was used to not speaking in vampire company, doing nothing to draw attention, and so she almost thought better of the question, but then the female’s attention lifted from her child to Jessica’s face. There was no blood-link between them, but Lady Lyssa had apparently learned many things about reading body language. “What is it you wish to ask me?”

“Why did you grant me this honor?”

Lyssa cocked her head. “Look directly at me, Jessica Tyson, and I will tell you.”

Jessica met those brilliant eyes. All vampires were beautiful, yes, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen one like Lady Lyssa. Perhaps it was that sense of
other
coming from her, the undefined power that only enhanced the amazing allure of what was already there, in the dark hair waving around her features. There was a hint of Asian mystique in the almond shape of her eyes, her petite but formidable form.

“Because you have seen the very worst of us. This”—Lyssa’s gaze went back to her son—“is the best.”

She hadn’t heard him come in, but now Mason was standing at her back, one hand on her shoulder. The other came forward and closed on her hand, clasping Kane’s. The baby gurgled, fascinated by the two layers of fingers holding his own. Then he took his other hand, beat a small fist against Mason’s.

“I think he’s already challenging you for her affections,” Jacob observed, lips curving. Glancing at Lyssa, he added, “Perhaps he wants to choose his servant early, my lady.”