“Don"t fight it, sweetheart. That makes it worse. Let it come. We"ll talk when it"s done. It"s not real. I promise. It"s not.”
She knew that until she was inside of it, and then there had never been anything so real to her, rendering her desolate, a broken creature who would have to pull it all back together again. Until one day, her mind would break and not heal again. Just like Barnabus, controlled by those voices, killing the innocent, destroying lives . . .
“If we can"t get this under control . . . If I can"t ever be on my own again, I want you to—” She"d promised she"d never ask it of him, but she"d learned untested promises meant very little. The madness swept over her, brought on by her stress about Daegan"s absence and the sheer unpredictability of the blood, the painful need of that dream, so it remained unsaid. But she knew Gideon knew.
Before the seizure took her away from him, she wondered if that was the real reason he"d been brought into her life. Not to protect her or preserve her life, but to end it.
3
“I NEED a reading during coitus.”
Dinner was almost over. Anwyn glanced up from the last swallow of her blood cocktail, neatly presented in a wineglass that picked up the candelight on the table. She"d never done much entertaining in her apartment beneath Atlantis, but she did have a six-person dining room table off the kitchen. Most of the time, she"d used it for spreading out tax receipts and other projects related to running her business, but since arriving Debra had dug things out of storage she"d almost forgotten she had. Place mats, attractive dinnerware pieces she"d picked up in boutiques more for their pleasing appearance than a coordinated theme.
“Excuse me?” she asked, aware of Gideon"s gaze snapping up from his plate. While she and Brian were taking blood only, Brian"s servant had prepared an appetizing combination of steak and potatoes for Gideon, with a side vegetable casserole and salad for her. She"d made enough to share with Gideon, if he felt the need to ingest something green and reasonably healthy.
When they"d first started this dinner ritual, Anwyn had been bemused by the way Gideon offered to help Debra in the kitchen. It was as if a middle-class boy surfaced from the vampire hunter he"d become, recalling the manners of that long-ago life. She"d felt a twinge of something, not unlike jealousy, when he"d gotten a smile from the girl. He"d told her his cooking talents were limited to his McDonald"s drive-thru navigation skills. So he"d been put to work setting the table, chopping vegetables and performing other less complicated domestic tasks.
“Lord Brian needs to get readings while you"re having sex, Mistress Anwyn,” Debra, the paragon of culinary efficiency, said now. It was as if there"d been an unspoken communication from her Master that it would be better for her to lead on the topic. “As you know, the worst convulsions are triggered by negative stressors. The body experiences a different yet just as volatile type of stress during orgasm. Therefore, he needs to see the variations so he can further tune the injection he"s giving you. Having readings from all your daily activities will help with that.”
“I see.”
On the floor of Club Atlantis, submissives addressed Dominants when given permission to do so, but to impart information, not to instruct. Vampires and servants had a similar pecking order, and from Daegan she knew they were very cognizant of that. While Brian might be trying to help her, knowing her history and wanting to give her the reassurance of talking to a woman, she was allowing herself to be treated as less than a peer. It was a subtle thing, but one that frissoned through her vampire blood and told her she couldn"t let that happen. Not in this new world. The information should be coming directly from Brian to her.
So now she turned her gaze to Brian, arching a brow. “Will masturbation provide the same data?”
He cleared his throat, giving her some small satisfaction at her reminder that on some things, at least, she didn"t need kid gloves.
“Similar enough. And tonight would be preferable,” he said, with just the right note of apology and concern in his eyes.
“All right. But I want to know something. The first night Debra made us dinner, when she pulled out the table settings, she stopped and looked at you, as if waiting for an answer to an unspoken question. You said, „We"ll all eat at the table. No games." What did that mean?”
“Good memory.” Brian nodded. “You remember Lord Daegan said you and your servant were exclusive until your transition was complete and he returned?” Dear Goddess, let him come home before the transition is complete. That could take up to three months. If she had to wait three months to see him, she might completely lose it. But she nodded. She felt Gideon"s gaze on her, knew he might have heard that thought.
“Vampire social gatherings always involve sexual games with the servants. It"s required by etiquette, and there are many political strategies worked out through such games. Though it"s also for the pleasure of the diners.”
Brian lifted his wineglass without glancing toward Debra. Putting down her fork, she immediately rose, took it from his hand and went to the sidebar to pour him another glass.
“During a typical social gathering,” he continued, “a vampire"s servant either stands behind her Master"s chair, or kneels next to him, if he wants to feed her portions of the meal he"s sampling.” He glanced at her blood-laced wine. “You and I are not sampling human food. And I am here merely for your protection and diagnostics. Therefore, it made more sense to have our servants join us at the table and engage in conversation. Keep it more informal and relaxed.”
“So this is the vampire version of eating dinner at home, in front of the TV?” Brian inclined his head toward Gideon, acknowledging the sardonic question. “If you like.
But there have been times, even when eating alone, that I have bade my servant perform at my direction as she would at a gathering. Test runs, to help her confidence.” He turned his gaze back to Anwyn, a clear message there. “As well as for my own pleasure.” Brian shifted from absentminded genius professor to urbane and well-versed dinner guest with barely a grinding of gears. Since he was a born vampire, his father a Region Master, it shouldn"t surprise her that he"d been trained to handle himself that way. Had Daegan imposed that directive about Brian not sharing servants because he didn"t think her capable of the other right now? Or he didn"t want to share her with anyone? Perhaps he was concerned about how Gideon would handle such a situation. She"d caught his sharp glance at the exchange. She knew Gideon wasn"t going to participate in anything like that, because she could hear it in his head. A cold day in hell before that will happen . . .
It was no less than what she expected, but it still added to the heavy, cold weight in her lower belly. Every day she grew more dependent on him, the first man in her life she could say that about and not feel she"d betrayed herself. When he left . . .
By the time that happens, you’ll be on your feet again, Anwyn. You’ll have graduated, gotten your full-fledged bat wings and not need me in your head anymore.
How do you know?
Because I know you. And because I won’t leave until that happens.
Was it something perverse in her that wanted to test that?
“What kind of things?” she asked Brian with not-so-casual interest. Crossing her forearms, she leaned forward, toying with the stem of her glass. Her nostrils flared, catching the scent of fresh blood as Debra cut her wrist with a tiny pearl-handled knife she"d had tucked in her bodice, let it flow into Brian"s glass. He drank white wine, so the crimson exploded like a flower blooming, sparkling in the candlelight Debra had set in the center of the table.
Brian glanced toward his servant. She"d changed for dinner. While Anwyn expected it was still demure and casual by vampire standards, the short, sleeveless lavender dress hugged Debra"s curves and gave her gray eyes a violet hue. Her hair was down, and the straight strands teased her fine cheekbones and lightly glossed lips.
As if visually recalling some of those “tests,” Brian"s gaze lingered on her as he spoke.
“Simple things. Requiring that she strip naked and cook me human food, gourmet choices.
Then lie on the table before me, with those samples placed on her body so I can use her as my table, my plate. Sometimes I bind her to a chair, with a vibrator inside her, and watch her writhe and beg to come while I drink her fresh blood from a glass and go over my notes for the day. If she"s been a little too opinionated”—his eyes glinted as she turned back toward the table carrying the wine—“she kneels between my knees and holds my cock in her mouth as long as I demand. Not sucking or stimulating, merely holding it, feeling it grow harder until it fills her mouth and pushes into her throat.”
Brian took the glass from his servant, his hand closing over hers. Debra was still, her eyes lowered, her lips pressed together, but Anwyn recognized the flush of arousal on her soft cheeks. She wasn"t wearing a bra, because her nipples were points pressing against the fabric.
Gideon had put down his fork, sat back. Though he was trying to stay removed and wary from the turn in the conversation, Anwyn could tell the images Brian had painted were affecting him, as they would any male with alpha tendencies. Which her vampire hunter had in spades.
“That takes some self-discipline,” she observed. “For both of you.” What Brian had described fired her own blood, ratcheted up her earlier yearning to be more demanding with Gideon again. But each time she thought about it, she remembered the way she"d lost control when she was overstimulated by the club environment. A Mistress"s first responsibility was protecting her slave, and she was his worst danger. Vulnerability had crippled her confidence. Brian was here, yes, but she didn"t trust him the way she trusted Daegan.
They said they needed readings. Gideon"s voice, in her mind. Why not handle two birds with one net, Mistress? Confidence and coitus?
She didn"t smile, because his mind-voice, which had some of the same sexy, deep cadence it had when spoken, ran chills and pleasure both up her spine. He knew. Of course he did. He was in her mind, but more than that, Gideon was always hyperintuitive when it came to her. He would have noticed her holding back.