Her finger moved from his lip to the edge of his front teeth. Slowly she mapped his right fang, stroking the length of it, testing the pad of her finger against the sharp tip. He held absolutely still for fear he’d cut her. Despite the blood in his system, despite the emotion he felt for her, the opportunity to drink directly from her might still overwhelm him. Deep inside, the beast reared its head in agreement.
“They’re very sharp,” she whispered, pulling her hand away.
Was she delaying the kiss for a reason? “You had a patron. You know how sharp fangs are.”
“Yes, but not yours.” She stared straight into his eyes, which he knew must be completely silver with everything boiling inside him. She shifted a little and for a moment, he thought she was getting off his lap, but she only twisted to face him better. Then her hands came to his face again, this time to cup his jaw. She dragged him closer as her lids shuttered. Almost too late, he realized she was kissing him. Quickly, he forced his fangs away.
His heartbeat revved and he pulled her nearer so that their heat mingled. Too much time had passed since this had last happened. Her mouth was a revelation, a reminder of everything that was right in his world. Of how much he loved her and, even though she hadn’t said it, of how much she loved him back.
He was lost to her. Utterly and completely and he’d never been happier.
No matter what else happened in his miserable existence, he would remember the joy of this feeling and bask in the knowledge that it would remain his until the day he turned to ash.
Chapter Seventeen
Tatiana woke an hour before sunset, the urge to check on Lilith overwhelming. After watching her child face down the sun and live, she was ecstatic, but not without worry. She just needed to see Lilith again, to make sure the sun’s wicked rays hadn’t marred her petal-fine skin, to check her once more for burns or blisters.
The hunger of waking curled at the edge of her consciousness, but she ignored it. There would be time to feed later. She dressed in silence, not wanting to wake Octavian. With the imminent arrival of the Dominus and their Elders, he’d been working so hard getting things ready, always disappearing to handle one chore or another.
Bringing her mouth to his cheek, she kissed him, then slipped next door to the nursery. Oana sat in the rocker near the crib, Lilith on one shoulder, patting her back gently. “Good evening, my lady.” She nodded her head in deference. “Lilith woke about half an hour ago. I’ve just finished feeding her. Would you like to take her?”
“Just for a moment.” She lifted Lilith from Oana’s grasp. Lilith smiled and reached for Tatiana’s face. “Hello, my darling. How are you?”
Lilith’s tiny fingers patted Tatiana’s cheek. There wasn’t a blemish on her. Not a centimeter of skin that showed she’d been touched by the sun. Remarkable. “She slept well?”
“Yes, my lady.” Oana stood and straightened the crib linens. “Slept as sound as could be. Not a cry, not a whimper.”
Nothing to indicate Lilith’s sun exposure had even registered. Tatiana kissed Lilith’s forehead. The scent of blood and milk lingered from her daughter’s breakfast. Her own stomach growled. She held Lilith out to Oana. “Make sure she has her bath.”
“Of course, my lady.” Oana planted Lilith back over her shoulder. “Any particular outfit you’d like her in tonight?”
The entire household knew the nobility would be arriving throughout the evening. Tatiana shook her head. “Anything is fine until dinner. Then she’s to wear the dress that was made.”
“Very good, my lady.” Oana curtseyed, then turned her face toward Lilith. “Time for a bath, little one.” Lilith clapped her hands against Oana’s back. “Anything else, my lady?”
“No, you’re dismissed.” Tatiana left as Oana carried Lilith in to the tub. Her hunger was now almost a palpable thing.
And a reminder that unfinished business remained. She shut the nursery door and strode down the hall. Servants scurried about, deep in last-minute preparations for her guests. One walked by with a mass of black cherry roses in her arms, no doubt on her way to Lord Syler’s suites. Lord Timotheius’s suite would get a fragrant mix of lilies. Lord Grigor despised flowers, but Svetla favored white orchids.
Each suite would be supplied with enough personal touches to impress. It was a game the Dominus played with each other, to see who could know more about the others without appearing to care. She’d spent enough time watching Algernon aid Lord Ivan. She hadn’t forgotten a thing, right down to Grigor’s disgusting combination of blood and vodka.
Deeper into the bowels of the estate, away from the guest suites and common areas, she traversed the corridors of the west wing. She’d kept Daciana confined in a suite here while her late husband, Laurent, and Tatiana had gone to Paradise City.
Now Octavian had secured Damian in this same wing until he could be dealt with. She reached for the door handle, then stopped. Her anger at him would solve nothing. If Daci had gone to the comarré’s under the pretense of asylum and ended up captive with Damian as a guard, that meant the comarré trusted Damian, that she’d taken him into her confidence, at least in some small way. What might he now be able to share with Tatiana? What new information could she glean?
This had to be played correctly, no matter how badly she wanted to punish his betrayal.
She schooled her face into a mask of pleasantness and opened the door. The waft of blood scent caused saliva to pool under her tongue. Her fangs punched through her gums. With effort, she retracted them.