Blood Sin (9 page)

“Actually,” one of the antiquarians was saying, “my interest began with the paranormal and paranormal artifacts, and it was from there that I moved on to more general antiques.”

Elizabeth’s attention swung back to the speaker, the American whose name she thought might have been Bill.

“What in the world,” she asked, “are paranormal artifacts? Sharpened sticks for staking vampires?” Or a cloak that had once belonged to the most powerful vampire ever to have walked the earth . . . Or the sword belonging to that same vampire.

What a coincidence, she thought with a sudden chill, that one of Dante’s antiquarians was interested in the paranormal. If Josh’s sword really was Saloman’s, would Bill recognize it for what it was?

Although a ripple of laughter had greeted her words, Bill’s response was immediate. “Hardly! Merely objects reputed to be imbued with supernatural powers,” he stated.

“
Are
there such things?” That was Josh, taking the words out of her mouth.

Dante laughed. “The star of two
Psychics
movies needs to ask that?”

“You know perfectly well
Psychics
is complete bunkum,” Josh said dryly. “However much fun it is.”

“But certainly there are such things,” Bill said. He smiled thinly. “With the emphasis on ‘reputed.’ ”

“But you won’t deny you’ve found things with inexplicable powers, will you?” Dante urged.

“Of course not. But rarely, very rarely. I
have
come across one or two objects with magical properties. One was a human skull, with horns.”

“With horns?” Josh interjected. “Then it can’t have been human, now, can it?”

“Yes, it can,” Dante said, surprisingly. “Go on, Bill.”

“Another was a golden mask—a pagan object older than Christ. And trust me, the power that emanated from these objects was intense.”

“Yes, but what did they
do
?” Elizabeth asked, keen to get to the point. However, she wasn’t so focused that she didn’t notice the warning cough or the frowns that came from Bill’s colleagues.

“Well, the skull seemed to increase one’s strength when one touched it, while the mask—”

“Josh! Darling!” interrupted a gushing voice. An instant later, Jerri Cusack embraced Josh, and everyone fell back to give her room. Her movements were all quick and dramatic, and she seemed to have released him almost before she’d grabbed him, reaching behind her in high excitement to exclaim, “I’ve just
got
to introduce you to Adam Simon!”

The name alone would have made Elizabeth turn in the direction of her grasping hand, but the speed of Josh’s spin to meet the man interested her far more. She stepped aside to get a better view, and almost dropped her glass.

He walked toward her, his black hair flowing loose over his shoulders. Alone of the men present, he wore no dinner jacket, just a black shirt that might have been velvet or crushed silk, with a matching tie that looked more like a cravat. He moved with all the grace and threat of a panther.

All this she absorbed in the first instant before his beauty blinded her, as it had always done. Yet it never even entered her head to doubt her own sanity, or to wonder whether her recognition was faulty. His mask had fallen.

He gazed only at her. She took a step toward him without meaning to, and he smiled, the rare, full smile that haunted her dreams. Shock overwhelmed the emotions struggling for release.

Then joy broke through like a tide, propelling her forward and into his arms, her face already raised for his kiss. Amber flames danced in his black eyes, burning her with the force of his desire. His mouth no longer smiled as it covered hers.

Elizabeth
, he said silently.
Elizabeth.

Saloman.

Chapter Four

I
t was an instant, a very small instant of bliss. The powerful arms she’d never thought to feel again closed close around her, while his mouth, his incredible, wonderful mouth, moved over hers with tenderness, accepting all her need and all the uncomplicated happiness of her kiss.

But it wasn’t uncomplicated. And they weren’t alone. A fact that Saloman, clearly, had never lost sight of for a moment. Even as she gasped into his mouth, trying to force herself to draw back, to ask questions that had only half formed in her brain, he was already releasing her. Her stunned lips felt cold, her body rebellious as his arms fell away. Although the tips of his fingers trailed over her naked back and lingered, so that she stood in the circle of his arm, being inexorably turned as if to be shown off to friends.

She shivered, desperately reaching for what dignity or even sense she could muster. They were being watched by several people with varying degrees of surprise, interest, and disapproval.

As if from very far away, Josh’s voice said, “I didn’t realize you two were acquainted.”

“Neither did I!” Elizabeth hoped she didn’t sound as hysterical as she felt.

“We met in Eastern Europe,” Saloman said, and God, yes, his voice still sounded the same. A little more modern in its intonation, perhaps, but it still reached right inside her, turning her outside in. “I expect Elizabeth remembers the Hungarian form of my name.”

“Oh, yes,” Elizabeth agreed, fighting the urge to laugh.

“What would that be?” Jerri asked eagerly.

“You couldn’t pronounce it,” Saloman said blandly.

Elizabeth, who, incredibly enough, was still clutching her champagne glass, hoped she’d spilled some of its contents over his mocking, arrogant person. Lifting it to her lips with fingers she prayed didn’t shake too visibly, she took a sizable gulp and tried to think.

What the hell was he doing here? And why was he posing as Adam Simon? Shit, what had he done with the real businessman? Was he after Dante?

No, you blind, blithering fool! He’s after Josh! Josh, whom you came here to protect, remember? To warn him against this very vampire? Well, Silk, now’s your moment!

Instinctively, she moved nearer to Josh, an act that Saloman acknowledged with a bland smile.

Dante, listening to the servant murmuring in his ear, nodded once and called, “Dinner is served, everyone! Let’s go to the dining room and eat!”

In the general happy exodus from the drawing room, Elizabeth found and gripped Josh’s hand. “Don’t trust Adam Simon,” she implored. He glanced at her, frowning, but there were too many people around them. “Just don’t,” she warned. “I’ll explain later.”

And what else should she do? Warn Dante that he was entertaining a vampire? Tell him this wasn’t Adam Simon but a dangerous impostor? Although the senator did seem more open to paranormal possibilities than she’d expected, her mind boggled at his likely response to being informed his favored houseguest wasn’t his troublesome business rival after all but a vampire. Not just any old vampire, either, but the most Ancient and powerful left in the world, the prince to whom all other vampires knelt, cringing.

Perhaps she should just stick to the impostor element. Explain that she’d met Adam Simon and this wasn’t him? Except she’d already denied knowing him to Josh.

Shit, what she really needed to do was talk to Saloman, warn him off Josh. After all, he’d promised to spare Konrad because she’d asked.

Because she’d asked . . . Her heart beat even faster, drowning the talk around her. Was it possible he hadn’t come here for Josh after all, but for her?

She arrived at the table still in a daze of speculation and anxiety, blindly following Josh. Gradually she became aware that there were little name cards at every place, and that Josh was making straight for the top end of the table as if he already knew where to go. Dante stood at the head of the table, smiling benignly while his guests seated themselves. On his left sat Jerri Cusack, and, almost inevitably, Josh halted at the seat beside her. Glancing at the table Elizabeth saw Josh’s name beside Jerri’s, then hers—and on her left, Adam Simon’s.

Her heart somersaulted.

It will never be over.
That was what he’d said to her on their last night together. Was this his way of proving it? Or had he come simply for Josh? Either way, how was she to get through the agony of sitting so close to him in public?

Use it
, she told herself fiercely as she sat down.
Take the opportunity and tell him he can’t have Josh.

She tried not to watch him sauntering up the room, nodding to the waiter, who directed him to his place, just as if he were used to servants pandering to his every whim. He probably had been in the past, whatever his life was like now. Did he have an army of vampire servants to do his bidding? Oh, shite, were they here?

“How fortunate,” Saloman murmured, dropping into the velvetupholstered chair beside hers.

Was it? How the hell could she talk to him, ask him useful questions, with Josh listening in to every word? The obvious answer came to her almost like a cartoon lightbulb switching on in her head.

It was hard to concentrate through the laughter and several conversations going on around her, but she managed to gaze into her gently steaming soup bowl as if debating the recipe with herself and calm herself enough to initiate a connection. It wasn’t hard to think of him when he sat right next to her, his black silk–clad arm almost touching her elbow.

Saloman
, she sent to him.

The word bounced harmlessly back to her. Silence greeted her and she knew she hadn’t reached him. Because he’d blocked her, damn him. What the hell did that mean? That he wasn’t yet ready to say anything that no one else should hear?

“Hi, you must be Elizabeth!”

She almost jumped as the voice cut through her abortive attempt at telepathy. She looked up into the smiling face of an attractive, darkhaired young woman leaning in front of Saloman to shake her hand.

“I’m Nicola Devon.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Elizabeth said faintly, rousing herself to shake hands with civility, and Nicola sat down on Saloman’s other side. Across the table sat the United States consul to Edinburgh and his wife, the antiquarians, and a couple of glamorous women she hadn’t yet met.

Dante sat down and everyone began to eat. With a feeling of numb helplessness, Elizabeth picked up her spoon.

“So you’re Josh’s Scottish cousin!” Jerri flung at her without warning. The woman was smiling, her teeth white and perfect between full, sculpted lips, but her gaze didn’t seem to be on Elizabeth. Instead, it switched continually between Josh and Saloman. “Wow, what’s it like to live in this amazing country all the time?”

“Wet,” Elizabeth said vaguely, which won an unexpected ripple of laughter, not least from Nicola on Saloman’s other side.

“You’ve got that right,” Nicola said fervently. “I’ve found myself deliberately choosing work in warmer countries. What is it you do, Elizabeth?”

“Research,” Elizabeth replied; then, realizing she was sounding rather monosyllabic, she added, “I’ve had a junior, temporary post at St. Andrews University while I finished my PhD, but it’s about to expire.”

“How is the thesis?” Saloman inquired. He raised the spoon to his mouth. Elizabeth tried not to stare. He seemed to be eating the soup, but she wondered what he’d do with the main course.

“Under consideration,” she managed.

“What’s it on?” Nicola asked.

“Historical superstitions,” Saloman answered for her. He glanced at her, one eyebrow twitching upward to acknowledge the shared joke none of the others would understand. “With special reference to my country.” Where reality had blown her theory sky-high, and yet she’d still held it together.

“Fascinating,” Nicola said. “Have you met Bill and Gerald over there? They’re into that kind of thing.”

“But they prefer objects to go with their stories,” Saloman pointed out.

Objects like you?
She hurled the thought at him without looking, and this time he chose to catch it. She felt his presence slip into her mind like a warm, familiar drink.

Oh, I think I might be a little too strong for their palates
, he returned, faintly amused, and when she sneaked a glance at him, he smiled and added,
Of course, they wouldn’t be too strong for mine.

Elizabeth almost choked on her soup, and Saloman, his smile widening, took another delicate spoonful. Elizabeth had to drag her gaze away. She remembered only too well the feel of those firm, knowing lips on her skin, caressing her throat and breasts, lingering to tease and torture her sensitive nipples. . . .

Her whole body flushed at the memory, from her cheeks to her thighs and all points between. Worse, she was sure he’d sense her heat and use it, whether for his own amusement or to advance whatever plan had brought him here.

She laid down her spoon.
Why did you come, Saloman?

He appeared to consider, while the waiters smoothly removed soup bowls and the second course was brought in. She found herself answering Josh, making automatic contributions to the general conversation while the larger part of her focused and strained for Saloman’s answer.