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Lord of the Vampires



“I wasn’t concentrating. I was only…”



“Thinking of me. And sex.”



Her cheeks heated as she nodded.



He uttered a low growl. “If you will not take pleasure from me, at least sit beside me. I would rather have part of you than none of you.”



Said the spider to the fly. A born seducer, this one. Nicolai knew just how to lure, how to tempt. Against her better judgment, she sat. Her fingers brushed his ribs, and the heat of him had her shivering all over again.



“The answer to your question is yes,” he said, gruffer still. “If someone’s power is greater than mine, my illusion can be broken. But do not go around asking for such a thing. You do not want the witches here knowing what was done to you.”



She waited, tense and silent, for him to go on. He didn’t. Finally she gasped out, “You can’t leave it at that. What happens if they discover the truth?”



Another round of silence.



Her heartbeat increased in speed. “What if your magic fails while I’m here?” Again, she waited. He didn’t rush to assure her all would be well. Still no need to panic. Not yet.



“Feed me,” he said, his fangs extending over his bottom lip, “and I’ll strengthen. No one will be stronger than me.” There, at the end, his words were slurred.



One half of her trembled in pleasure, the other half shuddered in fear. The vampires in the lab had fed from bags of plasma. She’d never been bitten. Had never wanted to be bitten. Until now. If anyone could make her enjoy something like that, it was this man.



“I’ll think about it. Now let’s backtrack a little. If you can make anyone look like the princess, why did you summon me specifically?” Why place her in such danger? Not that he’d truly wanted her, and her alone. She recalled his disdain when he’d learned she was merely a human, recalled his surprise. “I asked before, but you never answered.”



He leaned toward her, forcing her fingers to press into his skin. A silent command—and an unrelinquishing demand—for contact. “I did not summon you specifically.”



She’d realized that as she’d spoken, but hearing him confirm it depressed her. She had to remain on equal footing with him, and even though he was chained, he kept leaping to the next level without her.



“Who did you mean to summon, then?” she asked, tracing an X next to his navel. She blinked. His navel? Damn it! Her willpower sucked. She’d told herself not to touch him so, of course, the first thing she did was claim his belly button as her personal property.



“Jane?”



His deep voice startled her, and she jerked her spine ramrod straight. An instant later, her gaze met Nicolai’s. A mistake. Liquid silver eyes, smoldering with passion. Languid expression masking a sea of desires. “Yes?” Danger, Jane Parker, danger.



“I lost you, even though I’m having this conversation only because you wished it. We could be doing—”



“Sorry,” she said before he could finish. No reason to discover if what he thought they could be doing meshed with her own desires, and every reason not to. She stuffed her hands under her butt, her weight pinning them in place. Hopefully. “I’ll pay attention from now on.”



He flicked his tongue over one of his fangs, and she couldn’t help but imagine that tongue flicking between her legs. “I summoned whoever would save me.”



Oh, dear God. Her bones melted. Climbing on top of him a second time might actually be a good idea, she mused. She’d be able to hear him better. Yeah, yeah, because she was having trouble hearing him and… Damn it, she thought again. You knew better than to look at him!



She cleared her throat. “So I release you, and then what happens?” Good. Back on track.



“I am…not sure.”



The truth or a lie? That hesitation… “Will I go home?”



“I told you. I do not know. Do you have a man waiting for you?” he asked, the words grated, as if pushed through a grinder.



“No. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have straddled you. Fidelity is important.” She had nothing and no one except the routine she’d developed. Wake up at six-thirty in the morning and jog five miles. Take a shower, dress, fix breakfast. Read for a few hours, usually something on macroparticles, sometimes a romance, fix lunch. Read for a few hours more, shop online for anything she needed, walk the treadmill to release the knots in her muscles. Bathe, fix dinner. Watch TV, sleep. Exciting.



She didn’t need to work because one, she’d made so much money through her research, she could never spend it all; and two, she’d made so much money in the car accident settlement, she could never spend it all. Only problem was, she wanted something money couldn’t buy. Her family. A second chance.



“But I’m not in danger there,” she added softly. “So tell me. What will you do when you’re free?”



Absolute determination cloaked her features. “Kill my tormentors.” Flat, cold. A vow. “After that, I will journey to Elden.”



The “kill my tormentors” part shouldn’t have cranked her engine, but it did. A lot. All that ferocity… He would protect what was his, and fight for what he wanted. Always. Anyone who tormented him or those he loved would suffer. And with him, a woman would never have to worry about anything. Well, except her panties. Those might be ripped a few times.



“If I summon the healer and she does her thing, and then I let you go, but I don’t instantly go home, will you take me with you?”



She was not staying here; she knew that much. Nicolai might plan to kill everyone, but he was only one man. Or vampire, whatever. There would be survivors. Survivors looking to punish the person who had unleashed the big bad vamp.



And the longer she resided in this palace, the more danger she would be in, he’d said. Yet, she couldn’t strike out on her own. She knew nothing about this land. This magical land, where spells could be cast, memories erased and powerful vampires enslaved.



He opened his mouth, closed it. Then he relaxed, his body sagging against the mattress. His expression softened, heated. “What would you do to stay with me?” he asked, his voice once more like smoke, curling around her, trying to lure her back in.



Her hand itched to reach out, the urge to touch him springing to new life. She wanted to learn the texture of his skin—she hadn’t paid enough attention before. She wanted to rediscover the warmth of his body. Was already reaching toward him…



She jumped back to her feet and backed away from him. Sitting next to him had been a mistake. She couldn’t concentrate, and she couldn’t keep her dumb hands to herself.



“Jane,” he said, exasperated.



“What?”



His eyes narrowed, the gold flecks brightening, bursting through the silver. “Forget it. Have I answered your questions?”



“Yes. Wait, no, I—”



“Too late. You said yes. There’s no changing your mind. Now summon the healer.” He lifted the arm closest to her as best he could, the cuff rubbing against the iron poster. “And remove the chains.”



Damn him. He’d never promised to take her with him. “All right. Chains first. Healer second. But you’ll owe me. Big time. And don’t feed from me. I didn’t beg you.”



“Noted.”



“I’m trusting you. If you go back on your word, I never will again. Once out of my trust circle, always out of my trust circle.” She turned and bent over the nightstand, pulling out the top drawer. Sure enough, a long, thin key rested atop a bed of crimson velvet. “Lookie there. So simple.”



“Odette!” Hinges squeaked a second before her bedroom door slammed against the wall.



Gasping, Jane spun. A short, obese woman with ruddy cheeks huffed and puffed in the now open entryway. She wore a navy-blue-and-gold robe, the material far too tight for her rotund frame. She had jet-black hair peppered with silver, the strands slicked back and greased.



The city without time had managed to take its toll.



“You dare defy me, girl?”



The queen, she thought with dread and just a little panic. Her “mother.” The gal with the whip. Don’t forget you’re supposed to be Odette.



Fear pumped through Jane’s veins at an alarming rate, joining the dread and panic. Danger, danger, danger, her mind shouted, and it was not the succulent kind Nicolai offered. If this world was anything like her own had once been, this woman, this queen, had absolute power over every one and thing in her kingdom. Including Jane.



“I—I’m sorry.” Jane’s gaze fell to Nicolai. His expression was now blank, his features smoothed out. Yet, he couldn’t hide the coiled tension in his biceps and stomach. He practically vibrated. As stealthily as possible, she tossed the key at him. “I didn’t mean to disrespect you, M-Mother. Queen.”



“And yet you did. You, my successor, the one my people look to as an example, have made me appear the fool.” At least she hadn’t noticed the key. “Rather than seek out your doting mother, you sought out a slave.” As the queen spoke, two guards filed in beside her.



Jane didn’t recognize them; they were taller and meaner-looking than the others.



“Now, you’ll be punished.”



The men continued to advance.



“But…I… You can’t do this! Stop. Don’t you dare touch me. Let go!”



A snarl left Nicolai. One that promised pain. Lots and lots of pain. No one but Jane seemed to notice. The guards snagged her by the arms and began dragging her out of the bedroom.



“Mine,” Nicolai snapped. “No touching.”



Again, he was ignored.



“Stop! Let go!” She struggled, kicking and screaming, but they never loosened their hold.



Behind her, she heard Nicolai jerking against his chains. “Mine!”



“I can do anything I wish,” the queen said, so superior Jane wanted to slap her. “Perhaps your little bump on the head made you forget. But no worries, my pet. I will remind you—and ensure you never forget again.”
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