Beloved Vampire (62 page)

He and Jacob had been sitting in the dining room, sharing a drink while Danny took her feeding from Devlin and Lyssa got Kane settled in the nursery. “Lyssa seems far more sure of herself now than she was in those first months,” Mason observed. “More like herself.”

Jacob inclined his head, tipped his whiskey glass in Mason’s direction. “We owe much of that to your continuing help to Mr. In-gram, managing her estates. We’ve been able to spend more time with the Fey.”

Mason shook his head with a half smile. “They haven’t been seen for centuries as you are seeing them. I’m envious.”

Jacob snorted. “I thought vampires were insufferably arrogant. They’re humble as monks in comparison to the Fey. Still, it’s been worthwhile. All those years, because of the way the Fey tried to kill her mother before she was born, Lyssa embraced the vampire side, except when the Fey filtered in subconsciously. Now she’s getting to explore more of that side of herself.”

When Jacob set his glass down, swirled the contents, Mason noted the whiskey had a deeper hue to it. That, and the scent, told him it was mixed with Lyssa’s blood. It was still odd to him, to see that reversal in their circumstances, and when a shadow passed through Jacob’s gaze, he realized that he was not the only one that might find it unsettling.

“But they have accepted her,” he pressed.

“It’s hard to tell what the Fey accept. From one day to the next, it’s as likely they’ll disappear without a trace or threaten to annihilate you with a flash of heat lightning. But yes, for now they’ve been willing to teach her, guide her.” Jacob’s glance flicked up to the other vampire. “It doesn’t matter how she changes, Mason. She’s always a queen, and only a fool would underestimate it.

It’s in her heart and brain, her very soul. The powers she may or may not have are only secondary.”

The Irishman stretched out his long legs, crossed his ankles. Despite the fact he carried the mantle of Lyssa’s power, and Mason knew him quite capable of wielding it, he still chose to dress as the Faire player and drifter he’d been for some years before he met Lyssa. Well-worn jeans, a black T-shirt imprinted with an alehouse logo that featured a green and gold dragon. However, the simmering tension to his lean, muscular body, and the intelligence of his blue eyes warned against underestimating
him
.

“I remember Lord Brian telling me once that the Fey could kick a vampire’s ass any day of the week,” Jacob mused. “And he’s right. Those powers she has, her grasp of them, are growing exponentially. Her vulnerability during her pregnancy, and her transition from full vampire, were only a short-term thing. She doesn’t require my strength and protection anymore. Not in that manner, at least. And she’s shrugging on the mantle of Fey arrogance quite easily. After all, being a vampire gave her a millennium of training for wearing that.”

Mason gave him a sharp look. “She’ll always need you, Jacob.”

Jacob waved a dismissive hand. “You mistake me. I’m not worried, Mason. I love her, she loves me, and that’s always a balancing act.” He sobered then and met Mason’s gaze directly. “I
am
her servant, Mason. I never stopped, and I never will stop, even if the nature of that has gotten more complicated. As if it wasn’t complicated enough to begin with.” A smile tugged briefly at his lips.

“I was the port in the storm, and I’ll continue to be that, or whatever else she needs me to be. While I wish the future was more certain, particularly for Kane’s sake, it never is, is it?”

Mason lifted a shoulder, his head filling with memories. “No, it never is.”

Jacob inclined his head. “So I can give her one certainty. I will want her forever, love her forever, until the stars fall out of the universe, and we all blow away to dust. No matter what either of us has to become to accomplish that.”

046

True love, the kind that is a circle, with no clear up or down, beginning or end
. . .

Jessica put her head down in the crook of Mason’s shoulder, her arms still folded beneath her like a prone bat. “It seems there are no simple choices.”

His hand traced her back, the line of her bare hip. “No,
habiba
. There aren’t. Sleep now. Or at least have mercy on your poor Master and be silent. Before I gag you.”

She smiled.
Can’t gag my mind, my lord.
Then she shrieked, giggling as he rolled her over and began to tickle her, until she

promised to be quiet and let him sleep. As she settled, she wondered if he’d done it to keep her from descending into darker areas, but regardless, it worked. She dropped off to sleep as well, curved into his body, his arms crossed protectively over her.

047

She didn’t rise until around noon, and she did so with an unexpected sense of guilt. Amara would have put effort into making sure their guests were more comfortable, their domestic needs attended. While she realized the irony of taking on a role she would have scorned a couple months ago, as she moved around the lower level of the house she discovered the vampires had found the best bedrooms for their needs. Mason had been right—many of the chambers had been ready for guests. Amara had apparently set up a nursery while Mason was still in Berlin.

While Jess understood Mason had not given Amara leave to tell her about the vampires’ arrival until he returned, it still rankled some. Was it a sign of improvement that she felt as cranky as Mason about being handled? Of course, being a terrible patient didn’t mean the patient wasn’t sick.

Pushing that irritating possibility aside, she stopped at her room to change into jeans and a T-shirt. At least she could check the kitchen to see what breakfast arrangements were possible for Devlin or Lyssa. Then she’d go to the stables to help a short-staffed Jorge feed the horses.

Instead, she found Dev already in the kitchen, scrambling eggs and listening to a country station on the radio. His deep timbre was humming along with a George Strait song that declared everyone had a desire to go to Heaven—but no one wanted to go now.

She was almost certain the amazing aroma that met her at the door was pancakes, and he was pulling out some biscuits from the oven. A bowl of cut fresh fruit was already on the counter. Without turning, he slanted an affable smile over his broad shoulder.

“Eggs, love?”

The Aussie was fully clothed this morning, in the khaki trousers he seemed to favor, a white T-shirt and hiking boots.

“How did you know it was me?” She shook her head. “Of course, the third mark.”

“Well, it does enhance things a bit. But that jasmine soap you wear teases a man’s senses. And you carry Mason’s scent as well.

’Course I knew it wasn’t him, this time of day. Have a seat and I’ll feed you.”

She wasn’t sure what to think about the curl of warmth in her belly at the idea Mason’s scent was upon her, so she focused on more practical matters. “I feel like I should be feeding you. I’m sorry you’re having to do for yourself.”

The surprise in his gaze was reassuring. He swept his attention over his surroundings. “This is nowhere near doing for myself, love.

There’ve been mornings a few moths and a snake were the best I could do for breakfast, after a night on the hard ground with no warm and generous arse, like my lady’s, to snuggle up to.”

Considering she’d experienced five years where feeling safe and warm were as remote possibilities as a heavenly welcome for Raithe, she had to agree with him. The smile she gave him was genuine. “You’re absolutely right.”

“That I am. Really, this is a holiday of sorts for us. No one to impress or pretend for. No chance my Mistress can put me into unlikely situations to feed her insatiable needs.” He winked and then winced. “Ah, she heard that. Light sleeper, that one.”

“Where are Lady Lyssa and Kane?”

“Poor bloke.” Dev grimaced. “They’ll have a time of it when that one’s running about on his pins. He has the vampire aversion to the sun, so he’s sleeping with Jacob until Lyssa gets back from her morning flight. She’ll be back”—he glanced toward the window—“right about now.”

Flight? Jessica looked out the bay of windows, only to suck in an astounded breath. A creature was flying above the shore, circling down toward the sand of the beach. Blinking several times, she wondered if she was distorting a pelican into a much larger size.

She doubted it, because what she was looking at reminded her of an effeminate but still powerful gargoyle, one who’d somehow managed to free herself from the edge of a French cathedral. Sleek silver-gray skin, the small skull devoid of hair. Pointed, elongated ears, with fangs pronounced and curving out over her bottom lip. The flying creature had a long tail with a sharp spike end and lethal-looking talons for fingers. It gave the creature a deadly appearance despite a thinness that showed every rib. While Jessica could detect the mounds of her breasts, they were integrated into lean musculature. Large, round eyes, spaced wide like an animal’s, no whites, just pure darkness, riveted on the house as she chose her landing area. Leatherlike wings came to a half fold as she met the ground, exposing another wicked-looking claw on the elbow joint. Jess estimated the wings were about ten feet, tip to tip.

As Jess continued to stare, the being drew herself upright and began to move forward, such that what had been an animal crouch and stride melted into a woman’s graceful movement. The wings folded down and vanished, the gray fading into creamy skin, the talons retracting. In a blink, she was looking at a naked Lady Lyssa, who bent to retrieve the silk wrapper she’d left on the sand.

Shrugging into it, she freed her yards of silken dark hair from the collar before twisting it up in a clip.

“It’s quite something, first time you see it, isn’t it?” Dev slid a plate of pancakes and eggs next to Jess at the kitchen island, nodded to it and began to fry a couple more for himself.

“She’s . . . Is that what a Fey looks like?”

“Hard to say. She’s the only one I know. Jacob says the Fey come in all shapes and sizes. Since she’s the first ever that’s a mix of vampire and Fey parentage, she’s the only one of her kind that anyone knows about. Might want to eat that before it gets cold.”

“She’s amazing.” Jessica swallowed a bite of egg that didn’t go down as smoothly as she expected, watching the breathtaking woman make her way back up toward the house. She remembered the elegant bare body, no marks on it, sheer perfection.

“Mmm. You’re nothing to scoff at, love. Lord Mason may have a past with her, but you’re his present.”

Jessica glanced at the Australian who, despite the comment, had his back to her at the stove. “Am I that pathetically transparent?”

He chuckled. “Only to another servant.” But then he raised a serious gaze to her. “We all deal with it, figuring out what we mean to our Master or Mistress. It’s hard to explain or classify, based on what we knew of relationships before, so the first decade or two, we all have some confusing, bad times.”

“Like Jacob, last night?”

“Yes and no.” Dev shrugged. “That wasn’t too bad, all in all. Jacob has it figured out pretty well, better than I’d expect for as short a time as he’s been with her. But when you see those two together, it makes sense. It’s like they’ve been together since before time began. Of course, as he said, he couldn’t let that pass last night. Not only because of how he felt about it personally. He’s with a very strong woman. She won’t respect anything less from him. And no matter how things stand”—he sent a meaningful glance out the window—“don’t make the fatal mistake of thinking she’s like us servants, just because he’s marked her as one.”

“No chance of that, unless I was a complete idiot,” she observed dryly, and earned another grin. “How about you? And Lady Danny?”

At his arched brow, she bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I know I seem to be nosy, but it’s not personal curiosity. Not completely. It’s—”

He waved a hand, dismissing the apology. Grabbing a pot holder, he dumped the biscuits into a bread basket and put them on the table. “We’ve all been through the Q and A period, love. In the beginning, with this lot, you have far more of the Q than the A.

Lady Danny is my Mistress,” he said bluntly. “I serve her, however she needs me. That’s unconditional, though I’m not saying she and I don’t have the occasional blue on what her needs truly are.”

When he flinched again, he tempered it with a grin. “Serves you right, for eavesdropping instead of sleeping,” he said to the air in front of him, then winked at Jessica. “You know, you women don’t always know what’s best for you.”

“Oh, really?” Jessica fired a biscuit at him, which he countered with a block by his spatula, and caught the spinning bread deftly in the air.

“Crikey, it’s a flank attack. I’m buggered now.” Taking a bite, he winked at her, leaning back on the sink. Even as she shook her head at him, she didn’t stop smiling. While vampires were all beautiful, she was beginning to appreciate their choices in servants as well. A man who looked like that, who could cook like this . . .

I can cook too,
habiba.

She laughed out loud then. Dev gave her an amused look, but didn’t ask her what she was laughing at. Another intuitive sense of servants, apparently, knowing when these dual conversations were occurring.