Laying her forehead on the glass, she closed them, but kept her palm on the glass as if reluctant to lose the contact. He could stay motionless for quite some time, a skill all servants seemed to have, since even he’d had to endure some of those interminable vampire get-togethers Evan couldn’t avoid. So he continued to watch over her.

Her breath evened out, her fingers drifting down the window and into her lap, her shoulders dropping. Debra had brought him up to speed on the treatment side effects, which included a short period of fatigue directly after injection. Between that and the excitement of the day, he expected she was overwhelmed. She no longer had third-mark strength, after all. It was going to take a while for him to remember that, but probably not as long as it would if she’d been a he.

You going to be pissed if I engage her now?

Would it matter? I know what you’re thinking, neshama.

The fact that Evan used the Hebrew endearment said he hadn’t pushed it too far. Or Evan was engrossed in a project and would chastise later. Either way, Niall would take the opening.

Sliding his arms under her back and thighs, he lifted her, concerned by how light she was. He was going to have the stewardess make her that ice cream sundae for certain. For now, he’d put her on the couch, get her a blanket so she could be more comfortable. Hopefully she wouldn’t be one of those who got out of sorts because her hair got mussed. He could well imagine those thick red locks in disarray. Her hair fell to her hips, and he’d love to see it brushing her sweet, naked arse.

Stop being a rutting beast, he reminded himself. Christ, she was cold. Instead of going to the couch, he sat back down in the chair, cradling her in his lap. Her cheek lay on his chest, her hands coiled in her lap. He kept one hand on her hip, holding her there, but put his other hand up on the window. He copied the movement as he remembered it, and he’d been correct. It was like she’d been following the up and down soaring flight of a bird, keeping pace with the plane.

“Our Master . . . Debra said he’s an artist?”

She didn’t move at all, but it was obvious she’d been awake as soon as he’d touched her. She might not be a warrior, but over a decade of being an Inherited Servant meant he couldn’t sneak up on her. She’d let him pick her up without complaint, though. Maybe she thought Evan was okay with it.

“Aye. He’s ae o’ a kind. Paint’s still his favorite medium, but now he does photography, sculpting, metalwork, whatever interests him. He doesnae stay any one place too long. Never has.”

“How can I be a good servant to him?”

Such a simple, direct question. One he’d never asked himself, not in three hundred years. Niall shifted. “Cannae say. I’m no prize in that department, but he keeps me around. Gives him a dog to kick without me actually being one. He likes dogs.”

She was staring at him as if he’d spoken gibberish. When she immediately dropped her gaze at his attention, he touched her chin. “I’m not a vampire. You can look at me. Make faces, blow raspberries, whatever pleases ye.”

“You are his representative. An Inherited Servant treats all with deference.”

“Well, I’d appreciate it if ye didnae. I like your eyes. I like seeing your eyes,” he amended, in case she started worrying about the whole manners thing again.

She studied him. “How long have you been with him?”

She seemed okay being where she was, but he wouldn’t call her relaxed. She was a nice lapful, her arse soft, and she smelled exotic, some light scent he couldn’t place. He wrapped the hair spilling over his knuckles around them, gentle-like and casual. “Since the early 1700s.”

As she digested that, her gaze sharpened. “So you are . . .”

“Just over three hundred.” He drew his finger across his throat. “The usual servant life span. From what I ken, it happens fairly sudden. One day the clock will just stop ticking, but until then I have all my faculties. A bonny deal, if you compare it to getting all creaky and gray, limp-dicked. Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.”

She pressed her lips together. “I’m not offended. Have the two of you traveled without female companionship for all those years? Does your Master not . . . ?”

“Aye, he likes women well enough. ’Tis the artist thing. The issue isn’t male or female for him, but what ‘engages him artistically.’ That’s how he puts it. He likes a man for a servant because we’re nae very complicated.” He shrugged. Hell, he couldn’t say what it was about him that had “artistically engaged” Evan for nearly three centuries, but there it was. As for him . . . well, there was no expiration on a debt of honor.

He nodded toward the window. “What were you doing, the bird thing?”

She looked startled, then uncomfortable, so he waved a hand. “You dinnae have to tell me. I was spying, something Evan told me not to do.”

Alanna arched a brow. “Are you in the habit of disobeying your Master?”

“Chronically, according to him. Of course, he’s very fond o’ the single tail, probably because using it properly is artistically engaging as well. You’ve no need to worrit on that yourself. Never seen him beat a woman. Well, a guid spanking turns him on now and then, particularly if the lass has a fine, soft—”

Niall. Really?

Just making sure you were paying attention.

You will wish I wasn’t paying such close attention when you land.

She was giving him that three-headed dog look again, but then Evan startled him. Kiss her, Niall. I want to see how she reacts.

Didnae ye just say, about tempered steel and all?

Do it. Don’t say anything to warn her.

Niall didn’t have any problem with the kiss, but he didn’t want to scare her. Tightening his hand on her hair, a reassurance rather than an attack, he moved his hand up her back, feeling the thin strap of bra beneath the sweater, hooking his thumb there as he eased her toward his face. A variety of expressions crossed her brown eyes. Alarm, recognition, determination . . . decision.

She caught him in the chin with the heel of her hand in a blow so smart it snapped his teeth together on his tongue. She surged out of his lap, stomping on his thinly shod foot with her booted heel, likely breaking two of his toes. In a blink, she was holding the syringe she’d used like a dagger.

“Lord Brian says this treatment is not pleasant if it’s not tailored to your DNA. You are disobeying and disgracing your Master. He deserves better from his servant. He did not authorize any sexual congress between us, you said so.”

He was a capable fighter, but he hadn’t expected the same of her. Her jaw was set, the hand clutching the syringe not even shaking.

Evan’s chuckle was grating enough that Niall envisioned breaking several of the skinny painter’s limbs. She just took care of your punishment for me.

Niall ignored that. “He did. Authorize the kiss, that is.”

“Oh.” Digesting that statement, she set the syringe aside. “I’m trained to repel unsanctioned advances. My apologies.”

“None needed. I should have warned you.” But I listened to my “Master,” like a damned idiot. “So why did you let me pick you up?”

“I sensed your intent was to move me, which I assumed might be our Master’s will. When you sat down, I thought he might be using you to help him experience what I am like physically. You did not seem . . . erotically involved. At that moment.”

“Lass, you’re a strange one. But you’ve got a braw punch.” As he wiped the blood off his chin with the back of his hand, she moved to the lavatory. Bemused, he watched her return with a wet paper towel. When she stepped up to him to apply it to his mouth, she didn’t hesitate, despite the fact that he had a foot of height and a hundred pounds on her.

“How did you know the kiss wasn’t motivated by his desire to experience you?”

“Because it felt more impulsive. Like your desire. I misjudged. I apologize to him for that. I will learn quickly, I promise. Does he still wish you to kiss me?”

With her face so neutral, she might have been asking him if Evan wanted a plate of broccoli. But he took a closer look. Tension hummed just below the surface, her body anticipating, needing . . . something.

Niall took the paper towel from her hand. Well, O Lord and Master?

Do you want to kiss her?

Now my wants matter? I expect you already know the answer.

Yes, which is why I’m denying you. Tell her no.

Niall turned to drop the towel on the sink. Then he swung back, caught her by the waist, twisting her to the wall with her arm behind her back. Using his knee thrust high between her thighs to keep her pinned, he held her with easy strength. As she struggled, trying to figure out ways to throw him, he stayed alert to any signs of distress. There were none. When she deduced he was making a point, not an attack, she stilled, submitting to his dominance in the matter. It sent a healthy surge of blood to his cock, but he put that aside.

“Evan and I are not quite what ye expect in a vampire–servant pairing,” he said against her perfect ear, taking a nice breath of that haunting scent. “You’ll come tae no harm at our hands. But you try something like that against me again, I’ll turn you over my knee, no matter what price I pay for it. I’m not a docile man, and I’m near three centuries your senior, lass.”

“My intent is to serve your Master, not to disrespect you.”

“Hmm. He said no to the kiss. For now.” Which of course meant now he was thinking about it far more than he should.

But while her breath had shortened, her emotions seemed blank. Maybe Evan had really stepped in it with this one. Yet when nothing else had eased her suffering, the two of them had been able to do so. Some things a man did, not because they were wise, but because they were the honorable thing.

It was a philosophy that had determined most of the forks in Niall’s life, and he didn’t see that changing anytime soon. Especially if it involved a fascinating lass.

3

ALANNA wasn’t sure what to feel. She’d never experienced a servant like Niall, or the type of Master that Evan seemed to be to him. Something about their interactions, experienced through the one-sided communication of Niall, reminded her of the way Adam had related to his friends, before he’d departed with her for the InhServ program. Another difference between her and her brother; he’d had friends, had maintained those connections as long as he possibly could, while her focus had always been on her future.