"All right, what do you think of this?"
"I don't like it." Christian's silky voice was a bit sulky.
"You sound like Jem. How about this? I just bet a great strong man like you would appreciate this."
"No."
"You didn't even try it!"
"I don't have to try it to know I won't like it."
"You are such a baby. All right, how about this? I love this; I'm sure you will, too."
He looked suspiciously at me. "What is it?"
I waved the spoon under his nose. "Mole chicken."
He made a face. "I don't believe I could eat the flesh of an animal."
"Just try it. For me."
He grimaced and took a tiny little morsel of mole-covered chicken from the spoon. The look on his face as he chewed it was priceless.
"I take it that's a no."
"I do not want any more animal flesh."
"Okay, fine, strictly vegetarian diet, no problem. I'm not a big cow eater myself. Now, let's see..." I looked over the dining room table, which was covered in more than a dozen different take-out cartons. "You were go on the Greek pasta salad."
"I liked the wine."
"But the hummus didn't strike a strong chord with you." I pushed the red-pepper-and-olive hummus over to my side of the table. I wasn't nearly as picky as Christian was. Then again, I hadn't just been given the ability to eat after nine hundred years, either. I suppose that gave him the right to have such definite preferences.
"The wine was very good."
"And the Cantonese beef and the mole chicken are out. Same with the ribs."
"I enjoyed the wine."
"But you haven't tried the vegetarian fried rice yet. Here, try some rice."
"I believe I could have more wine without suffering any ill effects," he told me as I poked the spoon at his lips in an attempt to slip a few morsels of rice between them.
I sighed and set the spoon down. "You said you would be able to ingest only tiny bits of food and beverage at first, Christian. You did not say that being with me would open up the door to your becoming a wino."
He frowned. "Wino?"
"One who drinks copious quantities of wine."
He looked at the petite sherry glass that I had found to, serve him little thimble-size swallows of various wines so he could see what he liked and disliked.
"I suspect that it would take more than the teaspoon or two of wine you've given me to qualify for the word copious."
"No one likes a drunk vampire. Now try this rice and I might let you have a sip of a Gew¨¹rztraminer."
He selected an individual grain of rice and nibbled on it. "Passable."
I poured him another swallow of wine.
"Okay, so that leaves the spaghetti, which you won't like because it has dead cow in it, and sage roasted potatoes, which I can personally attest to as being nummy, and the - "
"Why are you avoiding the inevitable?" he asked, the sherry glass dangling from his elegant fingers.
"I told you, I don't need anyone to help me take a bath."
"You are bruised; I can feel your pain when you move. Why will you not let me soothe your aches in the warmth and comfort of a bath?"
"Because your sort of soothing involves bare flesh, and I know you around bare flesh; you're going to want to make love, and I just don't think that's a good idea now. It's a good thing Joy interrupted us when she did. Until I get a few things straight in my mind, you're not going to touch me, and that means no bath."
He smiled.
"I'm serious, Christian."
His smile deepened.
"Don't you think what you're thinking!" I shook a fork at him.
"If you ask me to, coraz¨®n, I will tear 'is 'eart out and dance on it." A disembodied voice floated down the length of the table.
I made a face at the air as it gathered into the translucent image of a randy Elizabethan courtier. "I thought you guys were watching a movie?"
"The others would not let me watch it."
"Really?" I frowned. Esme had discovered that if she focused her attention, she could push buttons on the remote. The freedom to channel-surf had quickly made her and Jem giddy TV addicts. "Why?"
He waved his hand. "They objected to it."
"What was the title?"
He pursed his lips and gave me the wounded-puppy dog look. "I cannot remember. I believe it was a movie about explorers. Someone's visit to a place called Dallas."
"Someone's visit to Dallas?"
"Debbie Does Dallas, was, I think, the title. It looked to be most amusing, but Esme said it was not appropriate for her cat. Bah!"
I snorted out the sip of wine I was taking, and coughed and sputtered for a good minute until I got all of it out of my lungs. Christian helpfully patted me on the back until I could breathe again. Antonio took exception to that. He puffed up his chest and stalked over to Christian.
"Oh, no, not again," I moaned, having seen enough male posturing earlier when we had arrived home to last me a lifetime. "Look, it was bad enough that you two had to go mano a mano a couple of hours ago, filling the entire house with enough testosterone to choke a horse, but if you don't mind, Antonio, Christian and I are trying to have dinner. Go back and watch whatever movie the others are watching."
" 'A!" Antonio waved his hand at the food and scoffed. Loudly. With one hand on a hip and a sneer on his face. "'E is as dead as I am; 'e cannot eat. And yet you, mi amor, mi coraz¨®n, you prefer this monstrosity to me? No." He shook his head, his curls trembling violently. "It cannot be. I will not accept it. I will challenge 'im to a duel of honor for your fair 'and!"
"Christian is not dead; he's just not... well, quite human. He's a slight variation on human, that's all."
"I don't care, I still challenge 'im. 'E 'as stolen my true love. 'E will die for that crime."
With a ghostly whisper of steel, Antonio pulled the rapier from the scabbard that suddenly appeared at his waist.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, I don't believe this..."
Antonio waved his rapier about in manner that, had it had been real, would have decapitated Christian, me, and three of the candles in the center of the dining table. "Do you accept my challenge, you 'ideous dead one, or are you too cowardly to face me like a man?"
Christian smiled at Antonio as he rose to his feet. I groaned and made a mental note to find a way to Release Antonio before Christian really lost his temper with him. Not to mention my temper.
"Where is Antonio... Oh, here you all are. What's going on?" Esme asked as she materialized in the dining room. "Oooh, you're fighting a duel? Over Allegra? How thrilling! Jem! Alis! You must see this; Antonio and Christian are fighting over Allegra."
"No," I started to say, but it was no use. Before the word left my lips, Jem and Alis popped into the dining room. Mr. Woogums jumped onto the table and limped over to smell the barbeque ribs. "Now, listen here, everyone, there is not going to be any... Jem, what in heaven's name have you done to yourself?"
"You insist on badgering my Beloved even when she has asked you to leave," Christian said, ignoring the audience that had lined up against the far wall. Alis spotted a series of Dresden antique statuettes on a shelf and moved in front of them to scream in Welsh. "You are here only on Allegra's sufferance, ghost, so I would suggest that you do as she tells you and not persist on this foolish course."
"Have you lost your mind? You can't go around dressed like that," I told Jem. "You look like a punk rocker. How many eighteenth-century waiters do you know who have a purple mohawk and a ring in their nose? I just bet you the answer is none!"
"You are the dead coward most extraordinary," Antonio taunted Christian, pausing long enough to blow me a showy kiss and materialize a red rose right in the middle of my kung pao chicken.
"Is that a tattoo? Who gave you permission to give yourself a tattoo? Of a naked woman, Jem? You're only fifteen! If this is the sort of thing you're going to do if I let you watch TV, you're going to find yourself watching the kiddie channel for a very long time, I can tell you that!"
Christian sighed and raised one hand to Antonio. "Need I show you again how much power this dead man wields?"
Antonio's image flickered as if it were a candle flame in a draft; then (and if his expression was anything to go by, much to his surprise) he dissolved into nothing.
I blinked at the Antonio-less air. "How did you do that?"
Christian shrugged and pulled my chair back. "Call it a perk."
"He's not going to do that to us, is he?" Esme asked nervously, picking up her cat. Jem leaned forward to admire his new look in the glass of a picture. Alis jumped up and down and waved her arms through the statuettes.
"No, he's not going to do that to you. You can all go back to Christian's study. Quietly, please. I don't want the Turners woken up. Hey," I said as Christian gently scooped me up in his arms. "Wait a minute. You have that 'You need a bath and I'm just the man to give you one' look on your face."
"Ah, Allegra." He sighed happily as he carried me up the stairs. I waved to Esme before the door closed behind us. "How little time it has taken you to learn my ways. You, my Beloved, need a bath to soothe your aches and heal your pains, and I am just the man to see to any other needs you might discover while sitting in the warm, oil-slicked water."
It wasn't what he said; it was the erotic, oil-slicked, watery images he was projecting into my mind that had me all quivery inside. "You're dominating me again," I said a tad bit desperately. "You know I don't like that."
He pushed open the door to his bedroom and walked straight into the bathroom. "Then we shall take turns. I shall dominate you until you get into the bathtub, and then you shall dominate me until I make you scream my name with pleasure three times."
Three times? My knees sagged as he stood me up. "Um." There was a reason I had for not wanting to have sex with him. A good reason. I just wished I could think of it.
We do not have sex, Christian thought at me as he turned the taps on full force, then examined a couple of bottles of bath scents and oils. We make deeply arousing, soul-scorching love.
You just have to love a romantic vampire.
"You prefer the jasmine, yes?"
I nodded, unable to summon up one good reason why I shouldn't tear off his clothes and make him scream my name out three times.
"Shall I undress you again?"
"No. You will leave the room and let me get into the tub by myself."
He raised a glossy raven eyebrow. "Beloved, I have seen your body. You have nothing to be ashamed of."
"Yes, but you haven't seen my body after it's been pummeled by a bunch of flying books. I'm bound to be bruised, and if you're going to want to touch each bruise - and don't tell me you aren't, because I can read your thoughts, too - then we'll be here all night. So just go do something for a minute and let me get into the tub by myself. Then, if you're good, you can come back and sit over there on that bench and talk to me nicely while I soak away the stiffness."
With a grin that didn't fool me for a minute, he bowed over my hand, then strolled out of the bathroom. As soon as the door clicked closed I ripped my shirt off, skinnied out of my pants and shoes, tore off my bra over my head without even pausing to undo the clasps, and had my underwear and socks off before I could take a breath. I sank into the deep water of the tub, sighing loudly with pleasure as the jasmine-scented steam seemed to ease away the aches of my bruises.
"It has been exactly one minute, and upon reviewing your response to me last night and this morning, I have come to the conclusion that I am good; thus I have returned."
"Naked," I pointed out as he stepped into the tub. "I noticed that you're naked and... um..."
He looked down on himself as he sank into the water at the opposite end of the mammoth tub. "Aroused?"
"Very." The water was about nipple high on me, which made me slouch a bit so my breasts were covered by the water. Christian tsked and moved toward me until his thigh slid alongside mine.
If you do not wish me to soothe your bruises, you must distract me.
I thought about that for a minute, then remembered that it was my turn to dominate him. I smiled. "If you insist."
He watched with interest as I gathered up the sea sponge and picked out a soap I liked (it smelled spicy, like him), then scooted my way over to him, plopping myself down so I sat on his thighs, facing him. Unfortunately that meant my breasts were out of the water, but I figured I'd just have to work harder at distracting him so he wouldn't notice that they were a little on the small side.
I like them just the way they are, he said softly, his hands just as soft as they cupped the aforementioned breasts.
A man will say anything when he's about to be soaped up and washed off.
His fingers stroked lazy circles around all the sensitive parts of my chest. I leaned forward into his hands as his mouth closed onto the wonderfully ticklish spot beneath my ear, shivering just a little as the warm water lapped around us with tiny, oil-slicked erotic movements.
"No more," I murmured into his hair.
"No?" He pulled back from where he was nuzzling my collarbone.
"Not for a bit. This is my turn. I get to drive you wild." I smiled a special wicked smile that I kept just for him and soaped up the sponge. "You, sir, need a bath, and I'm just the woman to see that it's done properly."
"You are so arousing when you give orders," he said, his half-closed eyes giving me a look that went straight to my groin. I just smiled and soaped up his arm, running my fingers along the slick surface of his skin, feeling the hard muscle flex and tense as I made soapy little finger designs along the flesh. I leaned forward to nip at his lips for a second while I soaped up the second arm, kissing him properly and biting his lower lip until he gave me what I wanted and opened his mouth.
He groaned into my mouth as I stroked the soapy muscles on his arm in time to the gentle little dabs of my tongue around his lips.
"Now for your chest," I said, pulling away. The water came to just above his belly button, which left me a delectable amount of chest to play with, and play with it I did. I soaped, I swirled, I spread my fingers across the muscles and through the chest hair, and watched his skin ripple in response.
"I like your chest," I murmured into his mouth.
"I like you liking my chest," he answered, his hands on my hips, tugging me forward.
"Not yet. First I have to wash you."
"I am not certain I will be able to survive such a delight."
"You'll just have to give it your best shot," I answered just before taking him into my soapy hands. "I have decided I like this extra bit you have."
His head tipped back and his eyes closed as I explored his hard length, letting my fingers dance on him as he had done earlier to me. I was suddenly possessed with a desire that shocked me because I'd never thought I'd willingly want to do it.
I moved off his legs. His eyes opened quickly and he looked at me with a worried concern that touched my heart. I smiled. "Slide up onto the seat."
The bath was so large that it had a broad marble ledge that ran around one side. He looked at the seat, then looked back at me, one eyebrow cocked.
"I know what I said, and I meant it at the time. My ex-husband used to make me - "
He laid a finger across my lips, then replaced it with his lips. "There is only you and me, Beloved."
I bit his finger, then kissed away the sting. "Then move over to the seat."
He did. The water now lapped at his thighs. I put a hand on either knee, sliding my spread fingers up the slickness of his legs, spreading them wider so I could kneel between them.
"Allegra, you do not have to do this..."
"I know," I said, slanting a look up at him. His eyes were hot and filled with passion, his chest rising and falling quickly as my hands slid around his heat. "I want to, Christian. I want to give you pleasure."
"Every breath you take gives me pleasure, Beloved. What you wish to do may just kill me."
"What a way to die." I smiled before lowering my head to him. I relaxed the moment I tasted him. This wasn't like the times in the past. Christian was different; he accepted what I gave and opened his mind to me so I could feel the elation my touch was bringing to him. I swirled my tongue around his flesh and reveled in the way I made his hips move, experimenting until I found a rhythm that I knew was driving him mad with pleasure, then redoubled my efforts until he suddenly pulled me upward along his body, my breasts pressed against his chest, my legs straddling his, the hard, extremely aroused tip of him nudging me open.
Let me love you, Beloved.
I tightened my arms around his head and wiggled my consent. He lowered me with so much gentleness that it brought tears to my eyes. How could one man be so very different from the others I'd known? How could one man care so much that every stroke of his fingers did nothing but push me to higher arousal? How could one man fill me with such joy that I happily merged myself with him in order to show him how much I craved his touch?
You are my Beloved. I can do no less.
I moved upon him, relishing the feeling of such erotic impalement, thrilling in the way he filled me, moving upward just so I could experience again the pleasure of him pushing into my body, joining with my flesh until there was no ending of him and beginning of me; there were only our two bodies and hearts and minds sharing every moment.
When his teeth pierced the flesh beneath my ear, I shouted his name, knowing this was right, it was meant to be, and that nothing would ever change that. He drank from me and my body contracted around him, pushing him into joining me as our bodies burned brighter than a supernova.
His hunger filled my mind as he continued to drink, but now there was another need in his mind, the need for me to take the same from him. His tongue was soft on my neck as he whispered the words in my mind.
Feed, Beloved. I know you wish to. Join with me. Take from me what only I can give you.
I trembled on the verge of another orgasm as he continued to move within me, the scent of him filling me, merging with the desire that he had recognized but which I refused to admit. My tongue swirled over the tendons in his neck, his pulse beating loud in my mind. The thought of tasting his blood teased me, aroused me further, claimed every thought in my head until all I wanted was the taste of him on my tongue.
Yes, Beloved. It is right. It is as it should be.
His finger traced a small line on his neck, blood welling up from it and beading along the scratch. I stared at the ruby drops gathering and felt my body ache in response. I lowered my head to his neck, wanting to lick, the wound, wanting to taste him in a way more intimate than anything I'd ever done, needing to take his life's blood into my body and complete the circle. Several drops gathered together and snaked a crimson trail down his neck.
More than anything else I wanted his blood.
A tiny voice in my mind screamed out its objection. If I did this, if I took the final step of Joining, there would be no going back. I would be trapped forever, without escape, without the power to leave him. If I let those tantalizing drops of red touch my tongue, I would never again be completely in control of my life; I would be governed by him.
Beloved -
"No." I turned my head and nuzzled it into the other side of his neck, a profound sense of loss making me sob with frustration. "I can't, Christian; I just can't."
Do not distress yourself in this way. Take only what you want from me, no more. I will never force you, Beloved. I seek only your happiness.
He moved within me again, kissing my neck and urging me to move faster upon him, sharing with me how much pleasure he felt. I gave in to the demands of my body and whispered my need into his mouth. He kissed me, his tongue mimicking the movement of our bodies until I knew his hunger would claim me. I tore my mouth from his and arched my back, trembling as his teeth closed on my breast, the familiar flash of pain dissolving instantly into ecstasy as our bodies and minds celebrated our joining in the most elemental manner possible.
It was just a few minutes shy of dawn when Christian carried me back to the mammoth bed, both of us exhausted, my body still humming with the pleasure he had given me. He'd made me scream out his name four times, not three, but as he had done the same, I was happy. I lay limp in his arms and listened to his heart beat, too sated and contented to question whether making love with him had been the wrong thing to do.
It can never be wrong between us.
Do I have to put up a No Trespassing sign ? I smiled into his mind.
I cannot help sharing your thoughts. It is the way of things.
I let that go and just enjoyed snuggling against him, drowsily tracing protection wards on his hip. "What are we going to do about finding the location of those two houses in town, Christian? You don't happen to know any clairvoyants, do you?"
"Yes, but not one you wish to consort with."
I looked up to frown a question at him.
"She is a Guardian."
"Oh. You're right. We don't need to bring a Guardian into this." Guardians are powerful mages who shield those hot spots in the world that are open to the influence of the dark forces. You'd be surprised how many of those places there are. The city of Detroit alone has hundreds of them. "How about hiring a really good private detective to look up the leasing and ownership records of likely houses?"
He stroked one of the sore spots on my back, his fingertips warm as they healed the bruise. "I've already done that. The Trust has covered its tracks in a very clever manner; it was only through a lucky coincidence that I found out who leased the house in Greenwich."
"Poop." I thought about the problem, worrying it from a new angle. "You can talk to your friend the way you can with me, right?"
"It's not quite the same, but yes, we do not need words to communicate. I have tried to reach him repeatedly, but either he is too weak to answer, or he is at too great a distance for me to find him."
"How great a distance is too great?" I asked, wondering if perhaps I was wrong in my assumption that the Dark One was being held in London. Perhaps they had shipped him off to Scotland.
"For Sebastian? A few miles. Three or four, perhaps."
I frowned again, propping myself up on my elbow to look at him. "So little? I was all the way across town and you didn't have the slightest bit of trouble reaching me."
"You are my Beloved. It is much easier to maintain contact with you."
"Still, a couple of miles doesn't seem like a very big range."
He touched a bruise on my shoulder. "The distance can increase if I were to know the exact location of the person I'm trying to contact. The powers of a Dark One are great, maly v¨¢le¨¨n¨ªk, but they do have limitations. If I do not know where Sebastian is, when I send out a call, it goes out in all directions until it reaches him. Once he answers I can focus the call so it goes directly to him. Until I know where he is, however, I must blanket the area. That reduces the distance I can reach."
"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to accuse you of being weak in the mental department." I snuggled back into him, stroking his chest. "I think our answer is going to have to be something illegal."
"Breaking into the Trust offices and searching for information?"
I nodded and kissed the little dip at the base of his throat. Above my head, he sighed, tightening his arms around me. "I fear that is the only solution I can see, as well."
"We should do it tonight. It's less likely that anyone will be around in the offices. They'll be too busy trying to raise spirits elsewhere."
Christian said nothing.
"Then again, they might expect us to do just that, although I don't think they know what it is I'm seeking. It's possible that if they really do know who and what you are, they will connect you to Sebastian, but we can't be certain of that."
His chest moved slowly beneath my hand, one breath to every five of mine. "Hmmm. You know, with your new tolerance of sunlight, it might be better if we waited until just before dawn. Then Guarda and Eduardo and Phillippa would likely to be heading off to their beds, never thinking that you would be able to get out and about then."
His body lay tense beneath my cheek. I wondered briefly if he was worried about the sunlight. "Of course, there's always the direct approach. I could hire myself a couple of really big bodyguards, and just march into the office during the day. Maybe I'd luck out and Guarda and the gang would be out to lunch or something."
Not only had his fingers stopped stroking me, he didn't veto the last, asinine plan that even I recognized was pure folly. Brute strength was nothing to the power of the triumvirate, and if Guarda had any brains at all, she'd be sure to keep Eduardo and Phillippa close by just on the off chance I came calling.
"Christian?"
"Peste," he swore, gently rolling me off him and getting to his feet, grabbing a pair of black jeans and pulling them on. Tension was visible in every line of his body.
"What's wrong?" I sat up and pulled the sheets up over my chest. "Christian?"
He started for the door to the hallway. "Don't you feel it?"
I stilled and opened myself up to the house. "No, I just feel the gruesome fivesome. They're all in your study. What is it? The triumvirate?"
He spat out a word as he slipped through the open door, leaving me frozen with fear.
Demon.