The Joining
THREE WEEKS AGO, Lucien came home and gave me a black-colored credit card, a checkbook and a bank card.
The credit card, he told me, was for my use whenever I wanted, whatever I wanted. The bills would go to him.
The checking account, he told me, had its first deposit. The same amount would be deposited every month and that was for my use whenever I wanted, whatever I wanted when cash was required.
When he left me, I looked and the amount of the deposit was a quarter of my yearly salary.
It was the kind of thing dreams were made of, if you didn’t hate the person who made that dream come true, as, at the time, I’d hated Lucien.
Two weeks ago, Stephanie came over one morning and told me we were having a girlie day. Then she whisked me off to a spa, we had facials and massages, and then sat in a sauna where, incidentally, her super-vampire senses came in handy because all that steam made me blind. I tripped over the wooden mat by the door and she caught me before I took a header. Then we had a gourmet lunch followed by manicures, pedicures, makeup and hair.
After that, we went shopping and she took me to the place where she bought the outfit I admired so much.
And she also took me to a place that sold lingerie that cost more than most people’s monthly mortgage payments.
It was there that she made me (and she did make me, I didn’t want to do it) buy the getup that I was wearing at that very moment. She heard my heart start racing when I eyed it in the shop, she forced me to try it on, and then she vampire-talked me, as in no protesting allowed, into buying it.
Now I was standing in front of the three-way mirror in the dressing room and examining myself.
I had to admit, I loved it. It was kind of naughty, but it was also cute.
The problem was I didn’t know if Lucien would like it.
It was a camisole and panties in sheer baby pink. The camisole was bloused from under the breasts and the cups had rows of tiny black lace frills that ran at diagonals. The thin straps were made of baby pink satin and there was a little black frill around the hem. The panties were also sheer baby pink but they were covered in rows of tiny black lace frills, like little girl panties.
Very sexy. Very sweet. Very cute.
But definitely kind of naughty.
I fancied I heard a noise, jumped like the scaredy-cat I was and ran to the black silk man’s tailored robe that came down to my knees that I also bought at that store. Both purchases cost more than my food budget for six months when I was at home. Lucien was going to have a conniption when he got the credit card bill.
I covered up, tugged the belt tight on the robe, and wondered if I should put on lip gloss. Then I decided that was a supremely stupid idea since I was, essentially, going to bed.
I took a deep ragged breath, walked out of the dressing room through the bathroom and into the bedroom.
Lucien was laying in bed, back to the headboard, covers up to his waist, gorgeous chest bared. He was reading a book.
I stopped and stared. His eyes came to me. I fought back the need to start panting. To hide my distress, I latched on to something else.
That something else was the fact that he was lying in bed reading and he was blinkety-blank eight hundred and twenty-two years old.
“After eight hundred years plus, haven’t you already read every book ever published?” I asked.
His thumb holding his place, he dropped the book to his side.
Then he answered, “No.”
Hmm.
Next question.
“Do vampires ever get so old they have to wear glasses?”
“No,” he repeated.
“Hearing aids?”
“No.”
“Dentures?” I went on stupidly and maybe semi-hysterically.
His lips turned up at the ends. “No, Leah.”
“Do they ever have to walk with canes?”
The lip-turn morphed into a sexy smile.
“Come here, sweetheart,” he ordered gently.
Seeing as, if I decided to make a run for it he could be on me faster than I could blink, I thought it best to do as he ordered.
As I walked toward him, he put his book on the nightstand.
I stopped at the side of the bed.
With vamp speed he twisted, grabbed me by the waist, slid down the bed, and I was on top of him over the covers. I arched my back and rested a forearm on his chest, catching my breath at his sudden movements. He gathered all my hair in both of his hands at the back of my neck and his eyes caught mine.
“Nervous?” he murmured.
Nervous? No.
About to have a cardiac arrest? Yes!
“No,” I lied to save face.
He grinned and told me, “I can hear your heart, pet.”
Why was I always forgetting that?
I wrinkled my nose and informed him, “You’re very annoying.”
He put pressure on my neck, enough for my arm to buckle and get trapped between us as he lifted his head and buried it in my neck.
“You’re very adorable,” he replied against my skin.
I was pretty certain my heart was accelerating past the point of cardiac arrest straight to cardiac explosion.
Regardless of this fact, since I was me, I retorted, “That’s part of you being annoying.”
His lips slid up the side of my neck and I did a full body tremble.
“What is?” he asked the underside of my jaw.
“You calling me adorable,” I answered, tilting my head back to give him better access.
I felt his smile. Then I felt the tip of his tongue move along my jaw and down my throat. I held my breath while he did this and my female parts rippled.
“Are you going to feed?” I whispered.
“No,” he answered.
This surprised me. He hadn’t fed that night except on roast chicken, stuffing, potatoes, rolls and Edwina’s whipped up at the last minute strawberry pie.
“You’re not?”
One of his hands slid up to cup the back of my head, the other one glided down my back. He guided my mouth to his and touched his lips to mine.
Eyes holding mine captive, he replied, “If I feed, the numbing agent will release. I don’t want any part of you numbed with what I do with my mouth tonight.”
Oh my God.
Another full body tremble, female parts ripple, and goose bumps formed on my flesh. He felt it, he knew it, he grinned his smug grin, and then he kissed me.
It wasn’t a claiming onslaught. It wasn’t a wild ravenous duel. It was sweet and soft, coaxing and discovering, a new kind of kiss that was quite like our first one but a whole lot better.
My body melted into his and I kissed him back.
His hand at my back slid over my bottom, down my thigh and then started to bunch the robe in his fist. From somewhere far away, my naughty-girl undies popped right into my head and I jerked straight up to straddling him.
He allowed this, why, I didn’t know. He just laid there looking up at me, his eyes alert but not angry, his hand now caught in the crease of my leg, his other hand coming to rest on my other thigh.
I stared down at him thinking one thing.
I needed to change clothes. Like, now.
“There’s something I forgot,” I muttered.
“Leah—”
I prepared to move and while I took the nanosecond to do this both his hands settled firmly on my hips.
“Leah, you aren’t going anywhere.”
I was mentally inventorying my lingerie drawer (he’d filled it full himself, he had to like those things, he bought them!) when I replied, “This won’t take a second.”
His hands tensed, his face gentled, his eyes grew warm just as his voice dipped low—a killer combination. “Sweetling, there’s nothing on this planet you have to worry about right now.”
“Lucien—”
His hands slid up my sides at the same time putting on pressure to pull me toward him.
“Just relax,” he muttered.
My mind searched wildly for ways to delay.
“Can I . . . ?” I muttered, coming up with nothing as his face got closer. “Can I . . . ?” I repeated stupidly. Then it came to me. “Will you let me . . . explore?” I whispered.
The pressure stopped.
Thank God.
His hands drifted down my sides, my waist, my hips, to come to rest on the tops of my thighs.
“By all means,” he murmured, my heart skipped, his eyes had gone hooded, and now I was really in trouble.
Since I’d been really in trouble before like, lots, as usual, I just winged it.
And, anyway, his chest was right there. And I’d never really touched him before. He touched me, but I’d never got the chance to have a go at him.
I took my chance.
I lifted up to straddling again, and using my fingertips, I explored. Drifting softly as my eyes followed my movements, I touched all the planes and angles of his chest, his abdomen, brushing my fingers across the top of the bedclothes under his navel.
I discovered he felt good. His skin was soft, his muscles hard. The angles fascinated me. The planes fascinated me more. I lost myself so much, it came as a surprise when he took in a sharp breath and his fingers tensed on my thighs as I ran the pad of my thumb across his nipple.
My eyes flew to his and his were intense. So intense they were blazing.
For the first time since I met him, I felt power.
And I liked it.
I liked it so much, I couldn’t stop my smile.
Totally forgetting my lingerie, I bent at the waist. I followed the trail my fingertips had made, this time with my mouth, often my tongue, tasting him.
His skin tasted just as delicious as his kisses.
My lips slid across his nipple then my tongue did the same then I swept the front edge of my teeth against it.
Suddenly, he knifed to sitting, his hands no longer at my thighs, they were yanking at the belt of my robe.
“I’m not done exploring,” I protested.
Looking in my eyes, he tugged the robe off my shoulders and tossed it aside. Then his hand fisted in my hair and he steered my mouth to his.
“You can explore all you want when we’re both naked.” His voice was a low sexy rumble.
I had no chance to speak further. He kissed me, hungry, even needy, and demanding. So demanding it rocked me, my arms circled him, for I had no choice but to hold on.
I was dazed, trembling and feeling ripples everywhere when his mouth tore from mine, he leaned a bit back, his hands at my camisole, and he stilled.
Then, eyes on my middle, in what could only be described as a raw groan, he growled, “Jesus, Leah.”
“What?” I breathed before I remembered and I stilled too.
Damn!
He didn’t like my naughty-girl undies.
His hand went into my hair, twisting and fisting, and he used it to bring my face close to his.
His eyes were burning.
I quit breathing.
He ground out, “Leave it to you to wear something I want to fuck you in when I’ve been fantasizing for twenty years of fucking you wearing nothing at all.”
Okay, maybe I was wrong. One could say he liked the lingerie.
Good to know.
“Is this our only shot?” I asked, still dazed and now slightly confused.
“Pardon?”
“Are we only having sex once?”
“Fuck no,” he clipped.
“Then can’t you do both . . . eventually?”
I’d barely uttered the “ly” in “eventually” when I was flying through the air, landing on my back.
Before his mouth took mine in another hungry demanding kiss, I guessed I had my answer.
I learned very quickly that Lucien hadn’t only used his eight hundred plus years on this earth to become a master with his hands and mouth.
Lucien had used those years to become a master at everything.
He also used the lingerie to his advantage. His mouth did the same on me as mine did on him, but trailing the edge of the camisole at my breasts, pushing the blousing up and gliding his lips and tongue across my midriff and belly, tracing the edge of my panties then up. Over the frills, I felt his tongue dart aggressively against my rock-hard nipple, then again and again, before he sucked it into his mouth over the fabric.
When he did, it felt so freaking fantastic, I moaned for a very long time.
Not done, he tugged the fabric down so it dragged across my sensitive nipple in a sexy way that made me whimper before his mouth locked on my nipple and he drew it in sharply.
Vampires understood suction like no one else.
It was sheer ecstasy.
After a while, he did this to the other nipple too.
I was paying attention, of course, lots of attention.
But I was also busy moaning and writhing and gripping his hair to hold him to me. I was so turned on I thought I’d have an orgasm just by what he did to my nipples.
But I wanted more.
I pushed off on a foot, rolling him to his back.
He let me do this, his arms sliding around me, crushing me to him for another wet, hot, demanding kiss.
“My turn,” I whispered against his lips when he ended the kiss.
Before he could say a word, my lips went down his throat, down his chest and down his stomach, pushing the bedclothes lower and exposing him.
He was thick, rock hard and looked utterly delectable.
I could not wait to explore.
I wrapped my hand around him, thrilling when I heard him suck in a sharp breath.
I no sooner twirled the tip of him with my tongue when he bent double. He wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked my body around so I was facing his lap but my knees were in the bed beside his shoulder as he lay back.
I looked at him in question and his eyes were on me.
“Enjoy, pet,” he murmured his encouragement, his voice resonating deep, and I didn’t know how long my shot would last so I didn’t hesitate further.
I enjoyed.
A couple minutes into my enjoyment, his hand went between my legs, stroking my inner thighs, gliding along the edges of my naughty-girl panties between my legs and over the swells of my bottom, his touch whisper-soft.
This felt really, really nice. So nice, I slid my legs wider to give him better access.
And so nice I wanted to give Lucien something really nice too.
I stopped licking and stroking and slid the tip of him between my lips. When I did, his hand moved, delving into my panties, filling me with his finger just as his hips bucked, filling my mouth with him.
It was divine. He tasted good there too.
Luscious.
I groaned and immediately got greedy.
He pulled my undies down to my thighs and he played with me while his hips jerked into my mouth as deep as he could go.
It was unbelievably hot. Too hot.
I lost my concentration and drew back, wrapping a fist around him, thumb absently circling the tip. I arched my back, which pressed my chest into his stomach, and threw my head back, my hair flying over my shoulders and drifting across his abs.
All I could do was focus on what was happening between my legs.
And what was happening between my legs was the makings of an orgasm so cataclysmic, I wasn’t certain I would survive it.
Whimpers of pleasure sounding from low in my throat, I spread my legs further, ground my hips into his hand, and regardless of my uncertain survival, I sought more.
His fingers stopped swirling and thrusting and disappeared. Before I could react to this sudden loss, he swept an arm behind my knees and I was on my back, my panties were gone, his hips were between my thighs and his weight was pinning me to the bed.
I felt the tip of him enter me.
“Yes,” I breathed, wrapping my arms around him.
I closed my eyes, so freaking ready, I would have begged him without hesitation.
His hands coming down the backs of my thighs, he pulled them up at the knees and slid in a centimeter deeper.
I arched my neck.
“Look at me, sweetling.” His voice was a deep aroused rumble that moved across my skin like a touch.
It took some effort but I looked at him.
I thought I knew what he wanted and immediately whispered, “Please, Lucien.”
His eyes went dark, his face got close, and he framed mine with his big hands.
“That’s beautiful, Leah, but I don’t want you to beg.”
My body moving on its own, desperate for release, desperate for him, I pressed my hips into his, but he withheld.
“Leah,” he gritted between his teeth, clearly seeking control, “before the joining, you need to answer one question.”
I nodded, too far gone to do much else.
His lips came to mine, his eyes still open, in his rumbly voice that now seemed even more intense, he asked, “Are you mine?”
My body stilled.
This was it. I had to make a choice and once I did there was no going back.
The answer came to me, the only one there was.
My arms held on tight just as my legs circled his hips and did the same.
“If you give me you, Lucien, then I promise, I’ll give you me.”
I watched close up as his eyes flashed.
Then he drove in deep.
I arched my neck in pleasure and cried out as it mingled with a hint of pain.
Seated to the hilt, he filled me completely. He was so big, I had no idea how I accommodated him. It didn’t matter. It was so beautiful to be joined to him, connected to him, filled by him, I welcomed the pain.
“You have me, Leah,” he murmured in my ear and he was not wrong. I had him, all of him, or likely all that I ever was really going to get.
I knew this and at that moment I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Because all of Lucien, what filled me, what pinned me to the bed, and everything else that he’d gifted me with this past month was far, far more than I’d ever had from anyone else.
I twisted my head to look at him, my arms and legs tightened, and I whispered, “Then I’m yours, Lucien.”
At my words, his mouth took mine in a hungry dueling kiss and he started moving.
It was gorgeous.
While driving deep, his thrusts opening me, widening me, filling me full again and again and again and again, the pressure built, excruciating and fantastic.
Cataclysmic was the word for it. I was rocking underneath him, lifting my knees, giving him more, taking more from him, insatiable, the pressure building, becoming unbearable, ripping through me.
His lips released mine, his hand went into my hair, tugging my head back.
His mouth went to my neck and I felt his tongue. Then I felt him feeding. I felt my blood flow into his mouth, pouring out with each deep savage thrust. Once, twice, three times, four.
Suddenly I hit paradise and came.
And I came hard, wrapping him as tight as I could in my convulsing limbs and forgetting everything but Lucien, his heavy body, his scent, the feel of him, his mouth at my neck, my blood nourishing him while I felt him plunging deep inside.
There had never been better and there never would be. Maybe not only in my life but in the history of Buchanans.
I was sliding down the wave, my body still jolted by his thrusts, small contented whimpers escaping my lips when his tongue swept my neck, his mouth claimed mine and his tongue drove inside so I could taste myself on him. The taste of me on his tongue enhanced the intimacy in an unexplainably profound way that shattered my soul.
Finally, he slammed inside me until he was seated full to the root and I felt his body spasm powerfully, shaking me with him as his deep groan filled my mouth. His orgasm, and the depth of it, caused a sense of triumphant elation so powerful, it felt like it shredded me straight through to my core.
Shredded, shattered, sated and moved beyond anything I could imagine by the splendor of our joining, uncharacteristically of me I didn’t fight the feeling.
I drew it in, pulled it close, held it safe and wrapped my limbs even tighter around my vampire.
My eyes opened when Lucien set me in bed.
I saw the sun peeking weakly through the curtains. It was nearly morning.
I’d been dozing, or more accurately, passed out.
He slid in behind me, his arm curling around my waist, pulling me to his heat, holding me close.
I settled against him.
After the first time, we’d done it four more times.
Four.
More.
Times.
That was five, in total.
The first was by far the best, but it was up for grabs which reigned supreme of the other four. I could likely argue in favor (for hours) for all of them.
The last time was on the couch in the comfy seating area off the kitchen. We’d gone down to raid the fridge. Or I had, I was starved. Lucien had been feeding a lot, he couldn’t be hungry.
We got sidetracked.
It was the first time he let me be on top. After we were done, still joined, I rested my torso on his wide chest, burrowed my face into his neck and fell fast asleep.
I didn’t know how long ago that was. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. Now I was awake, and out of nowhere, it hit me.
It felt like I’d been struck by lightning.
Lucien’s behavior was not about making me cow to him, to submit, to change, to be something he wanted to force me to be.
He’d said and demonstrated more than once that he always wanted me.
Just me.
It was about me submitting to what he was.
I had to accept him, in all his bossy domineering vampire-ness and the other sweet or gentle or generous parts besides.
He wasn’t taming me.
He was taming that part in me that held me away from his differentness. He was showing me who he was, what he was, how he behaved, and I had to accept it, all of it, without him being anything but Lucien.
You live your day to day life hiding the essence of who you are; you don’t want to let someone into that life who won’t accept you for that same thing.
Even embrace it. Even rejoice in the beauty of it.
I felt tears fill my eyes.
I was such a moron!
“Sweetheart?”
Oh my God.
Could he hear tears? That would suck!
“What?” I asked and I was pleased my voice sounded normal.
“You aren’t asleep.”
“Um . . .” I couldn’t answer. I was busy trying to control my tears, and I succeeded, but just barely.
“Is there something on your mind?” he queried gently.
Yes, many things were on my mind. Weighty things. Ayers-Rock-style weight, or at least it felt like it.
“Not really,” I lied.
His arm grew tight. “You can sleep, Leah. What happened last night won’t happen again.”
He thought I was worried about my dream.
I wasn’t worried about my dream.
Though, now that he brought it up.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“I’m here,” he answered.
All right, so I pretty much believed that Lucien was big enough, bad enough, fast enough, and strong enough to kick anyone’s ass, but a phantasmagorical dream that mysteriously hangs its victim? I was thinking even he couldn’t beat that.
I made a decision. It was a scary decision but I made it, and seeing as I was so freaking stubborn, once made I’d see it through, no matter that it scared the heck out of me.
“Are you tired?” I asked.
“Yes, pet.” I felt his face move into my hair before he muttered, all vampire sexy, “I’m very tired.”
Oh. Well then.
Maybe I couldn’t see it through.
Knowing I’d tired out the Mighty Vampire Lucien with all our sexual antics, and thinking that was pretty cool, thus being pretty pleased with myself, I decided I didn’t care.
He went on, “But if you wish to talk . . .”
As was my way, instantly, I changed my mind (again) and took my shot.
I turned in his arms so I was facing him.
It was time to get some questions answered.
I started with one that might not freak me out (much).
“Am I famous?” I asked.
“Pardon?” he asked back, seeming surprised by my question.
I explained, “Everyone I meet when I’m with you seems to know me. Even at The Selection people were looking at me like they knew me, or at least were curious about me so they knew of me.”
“Most members of a concubine family are known by vampires, Leah.”
I studied him.
He was so holding back.
“Not like me,” I whispered my challenge.
He blew out a sigh then curled me closer.
“No, my pet, not like you.”
I knew it!
“Why not like me?”
“Because of me.”
I held my breath. I didn’t know why, I just did.
I heard his chuckle. “You can breathe, sweetheart.”
I breathed and wrinkled my nose.
“I’m so glad I amuse you.”
His mouth touched mine before he murmured, “Always.”
I shivered in his arms. Those arms grew tighter. Even though this felt good, curiosity was killing me.
“Well, are you going to explain?”
He rolled to his back taking me with him so I was pressed mostly to his side but partially lying on top of him. He tucked my forehead in his neck and started to play with my hair before he began.
“During The Revolution, I was a general. A very . . .” he hesitated then went on, “successful general.” I shivered at his words, but this time reading the meaning behind them it was in a different way. He stopped playing with my hair and wrapped his arm around me before continuing, “After The Revolution, I was a hunter.” His voice dipped low. “And very successful at that as well.”
I’d quit breathing again.
I did not like this.
At all.
He hunted mortal and immortal mates!
Oh. My. God.
His arm gave me a squeeze and he whispered, “Not that kind of hunter, Leah. Never that. I’d burn before doing that.”
I started breathing again. In fact, my breath came out in an audible gush of relief.
“What kind of hunter were you?” I asked.
“I hunted the remainder of our enemy, my kind and those who allied with them. Once warriors, they’d become renegades. They had to be found and stopped before they planned another revolution. I was the one who stopped them.”
I got up on an elbow and looked at his face in the weak light. I could tell something was not right.
“How many of you were there? Hunters, that is.”
“Just me.”
What? This didn’t make sense.
“Really?”
“They only needed me. I was good at what I did.”
Was he serious?
“How many renegades were there?” I asked.
“Thousands.”
My mouth dropped open. He couldn’t be for real.
If he was, this gave a whole new meaning to the words “Mighty Vampire Lucien!”
“Were there . . . were there . . .” I stammered, “any other kind of hunters as good as you?”
“You mean the hunters of mates?”
I nodded.
“No.”
“None?”
“There were at least twenty hunters, only hundreds of mates to be hunted.”
Wow.
“Why was it only you who hunted the renegades?”
“I wasn’t the only one at the beginning. The Dominion recruited and dispatched other hunters. Most of the others didn’t survive. As I mentioned, I not only survived, I excelled. They pulled the others back and sent only me.”
This was crazy. Lucien was Super-Vamp, singlehandedly crushing a possible rebellion!
This was remarkable, unbelievable and very, very cool. But that something that I sensed was wrong niggled at me, making me uncomfortable.
I watched him for a moment, thinking of his magnificence, Stephanie’s, Cosmo’s, Lucien’s obvious pride in his people, and I said softly, “You hunted your own.”
His hand came up, fingers curling around my neck, and he explained as if I’d made a gentle accusation, which I hadn’t, “They were also hunting, Leah, and they were hunting mortals. Feeding and killing. Without thought or remorse. Making a point, living their lives in the old ways. They were not only murdering innocents, they were putting everything we vampires fought for at risk.”
I stared at him.
Then I guessed, “You didn’t like doing it.”
He shook his head. “Regardless if I didn’t believe in their way of life, enslaving your brethren and delivering them to their executions is not a fun job.”
He could say that again.
I understood what that something wrong was and it made me incredibly sad.
For Lucien.
Something I never expected to be, but there it was.
I felt my body get soft and I pressed into him.
Lifting my hand to touch his face, I whispered, “Lucien.”
When my palm rested against his cheek, I saw his eyes close slowly and the deep feeling so obvious in his handsome face made me catch my breath.
He was immensely good-looking, but looking at him in that moment, he’d never been more striking.
Not ever.
I felt my mouth part in awe and I desperately wanted to kiss him. And through my kiss I wanted to draw away his demons, absorb his emotion, take it away from him forever.
Before I got the chance to attempt this feat, his eyes opened and he murmured in a way that said he was trying to reassure me even though it was him I sensed reliving a nightmare, “It was a long time ago, sweetling.”
“It bothers you still.”
His hand went from my neck to my hand on his face. His long fingers curled around mine and he drew my knuckles to his lips, brushing them there.
His eyes locked on mine and he repeated, “It bothers me still.”
I understood then why people acted the way they did around him and I shared, “You’re a vampire hero. They admire you.”
“They do,” he agreed in a casual way that said it mattered very little to him and went on, “They also fear me.”
I was thinking they probably should. He could hunt down thousands of vampires on his own, that was pretty freaking scary.
“What does this have to do with me?” I asked.
He rested his hand still holding mine on his chest. “Because of the status they’ve placed on me, people take an interest in what I take an interest in. That, plus other annoying things, goes with the territory. However with you, I marked you twenty years ago and waited. This isn’t my usual behavior. Your behavior isn’t the usual concubine behavior either. This intrigued my people and they started watching and waiting to see what would happen. Now, I fear, they’re no less intrigued.”
“So, in a way, we’re like the mortal and vampire Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, without the weddings and such, of course,” I muttered.
I felt relief sweep through me when the air cleared, his face softened and his lips twitched.
“Something like that.”
Well, that was one question answered, and as usual, it made sense.
Now for the one that might freak me out, not that the last one didn’t.
“Why do you think you can make me safe from my dream?”
He rolled us to our sides, pulling me up so I was face to face with him and gathering me close.
“You remember the conversation you overheard this morning?” he asked and I nodded.
How could I forget?
He continued, “I think you’re attuning yourself to me.”
“Yes, I remember you saying that. What does that have to do with—?”
He interrupted me, saying, “You’re dreaming of The Sentence.”
I fell silent but my heart tripped.
His eyes grew contemplative. “Has your mother or one of your aunts explained The Sentence?”
They hadn’t, as such.
I shook my head deciding not to lie out loud.
“Edwina? Stephanie?” he asked.
I shook my head again, this time not nonverbally lying.
When he spoke again, it sounded like he was speaking aloud to himself, not to me. “Then you must have somehow sensed it from me.”
“Sensed what from you? What’s the sentence?”
His eyes refocused and he murmured, “It’s not pretty, sweetheart.”
“I could guess that,” I replied.
His lips turned up before he began to explain, “The Dominion created The Sentence for mortal and immortal mates who would not denounce each other. They did it in hopes that the others being tortured or yet to be caught would spare their partners from this by quickly denouncing them. What they understood, and I reminded them, as did Cosmo, Stephanie and other advisors at the time, was that a vampire’s vow is his or her bond. He, or she, will never denounce any vow, no matter what might befall them.” He took in a breath then continued, “In many cases, when vampires mate, their claimings are a promise, not a vow. There is a nuance of difference, but it’s there and for a vampire that nuance is crucial. The understanding being that eternal life with another may not work out after centuries. To promise forever opens the relationship to Severance. To vow forever, never. However, in most cases when a vampire took a mortal as a mate, during the claiming they vowed to be with their mortal forever. This, a vampire would never denounce. The Dominion was, however, with some experience of the behavior of mortals, counting on the mortal being less devoted. Unfortunately, they were wrong and dozens of Sentences were carried out.”
“Let me guess,” I whispered, “the mortal was hanged, the vampire burned.”
He gave me a squeeze and nodded, but said, “Worse.”
What was worse than that?
He answered my unasked question, “It happened simultaneously. The fire was lit so the mortal could watch the burning commence. Then the hanging proceeded so the vampire could watch his beloved swing before he died.”
I knew that too but I still gasped when Lucien confirmed it.
“The Dominion enjoyed one success from this,” he informed me. “It proved a healthy deterrent from any such future matings.”
I dropped my head, looked at his throat and muttered, “Not surprising.”
He kissed my forehead and I tilted my head back to face him.
“I don’t remember my dream but that’s what it felt like,” I told him.
“I’ve no doubt that’s what it is,” he replied.
“Why am I dreaming about that when I didn’t even know it existed?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Can you explain what happened last night?”
He shook his head, but said, “I have a theory.”
When he didn’t continue, I prompted, “And that would be?”
He pulled me closer and whispered, “You’re connected to me, my pet, in a way I’ve never experienced before.”
He wasn’t wrong about that. And it made me a tad bit uncomfortable at the same time I found it made me a lot more than a tad bit safe.
More contradictory emotions.
Great.
When I made no reply, he continued, “And you have a strength of will that’s astonishing. This most likely means your subconscious strength of will is indestructible. When you dreamed the dream when I wasn’t here to soothe you, hold you, me there living and breathing and not burning, something that would prove your dream false, your subconscious carried forward the dream.”
“That sounds crazy,” I told him, because it blinkety-blank did!
“Yes, you’re correct. It does,” Lucien agreed. “Even so you can’t deny that the dream carried on, you felt it physically and it continued until you linked to me on the phone.”
This was even crazier. But it was also true.
I stayed silent.
Lucien went on, “And your mind shut down, you descended into catatonia until you connected with my physically and only then did you reanimate.” After saying this, his face got closer, only a breath from mine, and his voice went soft. “Sweetling, this tells me I’m the catalyst to stop your dream. It tells me that I can keep you safe.”
His words and the way he said them, softly but with confidence and more than a hint of satisfaction, made me tremble.
Nevertheless, although his explanation was logical and plausible, as Lucien tended to be, I still didn’t buy it. Something else was at work here.
There might be no paranormal, supernatural, black, or any other kind of magic happening in the world of vampires and other creatures, but what I was experiencing with my dreams was something different. I didn’t know if it was magic but it was something—something otherworldly—I just knew it.
And it frightened me to bits.
“Leah?” Lucien called.
“Mm?” I replied, deep in thought.
“Listen to me,” he ordered, and when I focused on him, he continued, “I want you to listen closely, pet.” He was being serious, deadly serious, and I nodded. “I don’t want you sleeping when I’m not close. Until these dreams subside, you sleep only when I’m in the house preferably when you’re in bed with me.”
I nodded my head again, not because I was submitting to his order, but because I guessed he was right. He was the catalyst that stopped the dream, and seeing as I didn’t want to be hanged by an invisible rope while sensing Lucien burned at the stake, I was willing to give in this time.
“Okay.”
I felt his big body relax against mine and I hadn’t noticed he’d grown so tense. I tucked my face in his throat and slid my arm around him, burrowing even closer.
“Are we done talking?” he asked the top of my head.
“I have a million more questions,” I answered his throat.
“Will they wait until tomorrow?”
Considering it already was tomorrow, and for other reasons besides, the answer was . . . not really. Now that I was on a roll, no matter that it freaked me out, I still wanted to know as much as I could so I could know what I was up against.
However, much of what I wanted to know I needed to ask Stephanie.
“Yes,” I told him.
He kissed the top of my head and tangled his legs with mine. In his Lucien way, something which I realized was now endearingly familiar, he was settling in for sleep.
I settled with him.
And I allowed myself to feel what I hadn’t allowed myself to feel the many times he’d done this before.
Content.
My throat clogged as my mind protested, but my heart, for once, refused to be denied.
Aunt Nadia was right. Many people never had something beautiful, not even for a short while. Lucien was giving me something beautiful, and even though it was temporary, it was a gift my heart knew it was imperative to accept.
“Leah?” His voice was husky and sleepy when he called my name and my heart accepted that too.
“Hmm?”
“Thank you, my pet.” His voice was still husky, but there was a depth of meaning to those four words that made my heart stutter.
I wasn’t entirely certain what he was thanking me for, but I could guess.
He was thanking me for giving him me.
Another gift.
I closed my eyes and burrowed deeper while my heart accepted that too.