“Yet?” I put the fork down.
“Eat.”
“Explain.”
“In private, I will. We will have our privacy sooner if you do things my way.”
When we left the restaurant, it was not quite ten P.M. but it felt much later. Johnny wouldn’t get here for another hour or more, so I strolled slowly. “The days are getting so short,” I said. The sun had set today at six-twenty-three.
“This season permits a longer life for vampires.”
That made the cold somehow more fitting, forcing people safely inside, but I didn’t say that aloud.
We made our way into the theater using the same path as before, but this time we passed fewer cardboard boxes. Now there were nearly forty vampires and Beholders working about the room. The hammering ceased when Menessos and I entered. They stared at us as we crossed to the stage.
We’d been gone about an hour, enough time for them to have set in another quarter of that gleaming black floor. The underarea of the stage was blocked halfway across, too, and apparently Seven had had time to tell everyone the master was running around with the brave new Erus Veneficus. At least he hadn’t held my hand and led me through the theater. I’d walked by myself like a big girl. My hurrying was meant only to keep up with him. Not a rush to get through and away from all the fangs. Really.
Atop the stairs, Menessos tapped in numbers for the lock—hmm, I needed to know the code myself—and opened the heavy door for me. With the exception of the empty space on the wall for a painting, everything from the design board Seven had shown me was now set up and arranged. My suitcase and toiletries bag rested at the foot of the big black bed beside Johnny’s duffel. They’d even started a fire.
“They did all of that out there—and this—in an hour?” I dropped my blazer on a chair and went to warm myself near the flames.
“It was merely moving and placing furniture, Persephone. You must have somewhere to rest tonight.”
Even as he spoke, the work resumed in the theater beyond. The hammering echoed as if several dozen carpenters on meth were out there.
Menessos shut my door, and the noise was immediately silenced. I studied the three different locking mechanisms on it. Bolts at the top and bottom of the door, another at mid-level—in addition to the automatic electronic lock, of course. Very industrial. “Now, about my knowledge of the fey that could assist you . . .”
“How about we start with Johnny?” I wanted to know about the ties Menessos mentioned at the restaurant.
His voice lowered. “How about we start without Johnny?”
Though my back was turned to the fire, warmth slithered across my aura; it was an invitation duplicated in his smoldering eyes.
I drew my shields around me. “Why do you bounce back and forth between humanizing yourself to the point of making me feel sorry for you, and then play Mr. Dangerous Sex-Starved Vampire?”
Amused, he said, “I am not sex starved.”
“It’s annoying and it’ll get old, fast, if you keep it up.”
The heat abated, but was still present. “My apologies, Persephone.” Standing at the end of the granite countertop, he reached into a decorative azure blue bowl and lifted one of the crackled glass orbs. Even as he inspected it, twisting his wrist, I could feel it as if his fingers were flicking over my aura. “Do you not like having your flesh kindled?”
I recognized and resisted this, strengthening my shields even more, but my body still responded to it. “Wasn’t that made clear with the word ‘annoying’?” The breathlessness of my voice pissed me off. So did he.
“The birth of a master is a sensitive time.” After replacing the glass orb gently, he moved casually nearer and the temperature in the room rose noticeably. The heat, the caress of my aura, his voice, it all triggered a yearning for him, I craved him, needed him. And if he was attuned to my body, he damn well knew it.
I retreated.
He stopped six feet from me. “Persephone, this is what it means to be the master of a vampire.”
“No wonder vampires struggle to rise through the ranks,” I muttered.
“It is quite pleasurable, isn’t it? Erotic.”
It reminded me of working with the ley line. At first touch, the power of the ley scalded, but as the touch lingered it became euphoric. Addictive. “What perks do you get from it?” No breathlessness in my voice. Only anger.
“Because you are mortal, I hear your heart begin to pound. I watch your cheeks flush with warm, fresh blood as desire overwhelms you.”
Suddenly he was right behind me, as close as he could be without touching me. My aura snapped tight around me, shielding me while his power rubbed against that intangible defense and created a metaphysical friction that stole my breath again.
“Here, surrounded by those I master, I am stronger. Oh, Persephone . . .” There was an edge to his tone, a sharp reminder, yet he spoke my name rapturously. “I know what you are feeling, for I have felt it. I have fed upon it. And now, I nourish you with it.”
His fingers stroked my neck, and the barrier between us was no more. I smelled hot cinnamon and I melted against him. His touch molded me against him, his lips brushed my cheek. “Taste the power I give you.”
The first time Menessos kissed me—in the circle when we’d saved Theo—his kiss had been as fragile as the edge of a toasted marshmallow. Not this time. His mouth covered mine forcefully, his arms surrounded me. My rebellious body took over, encouraging him. Lips parting, I welcomed his tongue. His embrace tightened. My hips pressed into him.
He ended the kiss and whispered, “I must.” His mouth lowered onto my neck, and time slowed.
The vampire’s lips found the thudding pulse of my vein. I felt the needle tips of his teeth, pressing. My skin broke—the shafts of his fangs pushed deeper. I felt each millimeter of him entering me as definitively as sexual penetration. It hurt like losing my virginity had hurt. It was painful and yet it was perfect.
With his tongue pressed at my new openings, he sucked, tugging the skin of my neck gently into his mouth. My hips pressed harder against his groin and my body answered his demand. I bled for him and I felt . . . potent.
Mine!
He was mine. Mine to command. Mine to protect. Mine to have if I wanted. Sustained by my energy, Menessos was mine to feed as well.
CHAPTER NINE
I awoke to a night sky with twinkling stars in it over my head.
“Holy shit!” The sound of Johnny’s astonished voice came a second before the dull thump of the heavy door shutting.
Does everyone but me have that door’s damned combination?
Realizing I was on the bed, I sat up in a rush. I was alone. My clothes were still on. Good. Feeling my neck, I touched a bandage. The bastard bandaged me?
Scooting to the edge, I kicked the sheer curtains aside. My feet hit the floor and I stood—
Dizziness made me immediately sit again. I called out, “Back here.” The heavy curtains had been shut, separating the two spaces, and the fire burned low in the hearth.
“Lemme figure out how to lock up,” he answered. “A lot of vamps out there.”
“How many?”
A glass of orange juice sat on the bedside table. Eagerly, I downed half of it to the chunking sound of metal defenses engaging. We were supposed to take advantage of our aloneness. I gulped more, to the beat of Johnny’s approaching footfalls. C’mon, juice, kick in.
“Probably thirty vamps, fifty or sixty Beholders.”
More than there had been earlier. Or more than I had seen then, anyway. Or Johnny could smell them in unseen places like Menessos had smelled the waerewolves at the restaurant.
The thick curtain parted and light from the other room glowed behind him. It suited the sunny demeanor he was exuding. “At the main doors, I was convinced this whole place was a dump, and then I’m led to this ritzy little abode, with the hottest woman I’ve ever seen waiting for me in the bedroom.”