“You’ll stay here and answer my questions,” Evan said. “My will is everything, right?”
Anguish gripped her expression, so sharp and painful it was as if she’d been skewered by knives. “Please, I’m begging you. Don’t.”
“You expected to be valued, but you expected more than that, from your own feelings. There’s another word you’re seeking, Alanna.”
She was so pale. Her fingers were trembling, her whole body.
Evan . . .
“Tell me.” He spoke sharply. The answer was there, but she was under siege, a hurricane happening in her head, her soul.
“Please don’t make me say it. It’s wrong to say it.”
“You thought if you served him with everything you are, you’d love him. And he’d at least care about you. But he didn’t do anything worth loving, and he never cared for you.”
“If that was what I thought, it was wrong, and selfish. The point of serving is serving, giving your Master everything he needs. Your needs and wants are unimportant. It’s not wrong to love your Master, but that love should never expect anything in return. That’s why I failed. Why I betrayed Stephen. I did it because I thought he owed me something. And that’s unforgivable.”
“Your twin’s death had no significance in the face of your Master’s every whim. You couldn’t accept that, and that’s why you failed.”
“Yes.” But the word came out like a serrated blade from her flesh.
She still had no color in her face. The shaking was past her ability to control it. Niall had left them, disappearing into the cabin. She continued to stand there, her hands at her sides, her carriage erect and open. Accessible. She was so cold, her nipples stabbed through the T-shirt, and the skirt clung to her like a second skin. Her straight stance put all that on full display. Even when her emotions were crumbling, she was so well-trained she wouldn’t cringe. There was a personal pride in that, whether she acknowledged it or not.
Niall returned with his heavy coat. Putting it on her shoulders, he threaded her arms into the sleeves that swallowed her, then rubbed them briskly to keep them warm. She kept her eyes on the ground. It would take more, perhaps one more push. Evan stood in the maelstrom of her mind, watching the conflicting emotions churn around him like the storm he’d once experienced in Darwin, Western Australia. Every flash of lightning had been like a Titan’s hand striking marks against the sky. He’d wondered if they would split the firmament and show the divine face that hid behind it, pulling all the strings.
Rising from the bench, he moved toward her until the tips of his shoes were in her view. He slid his hands under the heavy mass of wet hair, used his hold on it to tilt her head up.
“Look at me, Alanna.”
She had a doll’s eyes. She’d retreated from the pain, the confusion. But he was inside her mind; she couldn’t retreat from that. He thought about the third mark, what it would be like to stand inside this woman’s soul, and felt a sudden hard desire for it. To own her completely. To ensure she knew exactly what it meant to be cared for. To be cherished by a vampire Master.
She had a wealth of sexual skills, but had never been given the opportunity to enjoy and participate, to develop her own desires and wants. Stephen was a single-minded ass.
Framing her face in his hands, he leaned down. Paused a hair’s breadth from her lips. “Kiss me, Alanna. Explore my mouth the way you’d like to do it. It’s your true first kiss. You can do nothing wrong, as long as I’m getting the pleasure of your mouth.”
His fingers teased the corners of her eyes, took away a few tears. “Stop your crying,” he added curtly. “You’re tearing my heart from my chest.”
Her eyes widened at that, but then she pressed her lips together. As she considered his words, the doll look started to fade. It was a hushed moment in the universe, time stretching out like the heartbeats between those Darwin lightning strikes.
Lifting onto her toes, swaying unsteadily, she put her lips on his, a light and tentative touch. She tasted him. Nibbled. The tip of her tongue darted forth to touch his mouth. It took tremendous effort to rein back his natural dominance to take over, have her beneath him, but he managed it. As much as he wanted to be inside her, he wanted to see her take this step.
It was too much for her. The storm howled, intensified, sweeping into the marrow of her shaking bones, gripping her heart so strongly she made a sound of pain. She pulled back. As her eyes filled anew, she shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t want anything. I wish Stephen had killed me.”
At the broken declaration, she bolted, tearing herself from his grasp. She ran back into the house in the oversized coat, the fist she put against her mouth not enough to hold back sobs.
Niall stood tensely next to him. “You’re a total bastard,” his servant said. “But a smart one.”
“There’s not much difference between a smart bastard and a fucking sadist. Give her a few minutes, then go to her. Make sure she’s okay.”
“Think that helped?”
“Maybe. She chose to run, and she’s never run from a vampire. That in itself means something. Sometimes things become clearer after a hard storm.”
“Unless the storm destroys everything. They made her too fragile, Evan.”
“Well, that’s why she has us, right?” Evan arched a brow at him. “We protect her, help her get stronger.”
Niall gave him a short nod, strode toward the house. The irritable set of the broad shoulders was easy enough to read. It was torment, trying to help her embrace a life all odds said she wouldn’t be given. But though Niall might rail against it, Evan knew they had no choice but to try, because it was the right thing to do.
And Niall never turned away from that.
Stripping off her clothes in her room, Alanna rubbed herself hard with a towel. She was not going to curl up on the bed to cry. She’d handled all that badly, but she could pull it back together. Yanking on dry clothing, she picked up her brush, turning it over in her hand. The way you keep your hair nice and shiny . . .
She slapped it down, raked her hair back and fastened it with a clip. She’d let it dry snarled, if her hair being shiny meant nothing to him. Coming back into the main room, she saw a napkin on the floor. She recalled Evan had brushed it off the table when he went toward the door.
As she leaned down to pick it up, Niall came in. When he’d helped her out of the creek, he’d been braced on the bank, so now he tracked mud over the braided mat.
“Leave it,” he said. “He can pick it up.” The edge to Niall’s voice suggested he and Evan had disagreed over what had just happened. From any other vampire–servant pairing, she’d say that was beyond the realm of possibility, but not for them.
Training. That was the only anchor she had left. The one they seemed determine to pull up.
“It’s our job to pick it up.”
“Why? He knocked it off.”
She wasn’t having this ridiculous argument. She knew her duty, even if Niall chose to ignore his. As her fingers brushed the cloth, Niall put his muddy boot square in the middle of it, where she couldn’t tug it free.
“Leave it.”
His order gave her that odd shiver, but something else came to the forefront as well. She’d been thrown in a creek, had failed to kiss her Master as he desired. He asked for skills she didn’t have and ignored the ones she did, ones that could be used for his benefit. Of course, out here in the middle of nowhere, with no political standing, no power at all, he didn’t even want or value her training. He wanted her to “do for herself” when he didn’t need her. As long as she was under his wardship, hours and hours of horrifying free time were going to be stretching before her.
This was not who she was.
“I will not leave it.” She snapped up straight, faced Niall with a set jaw. “Just because you delight in being lazy and pretending you’re your Master’s equal, doesn’t mean I’m going to throw away years of Council training to suit your whims. I am an InhServ. I am completely at the mercy of our Master, and grateful for any chance to be of service.”
She decided to ignore the fact that she’d run from Evan’s demands. She couldn’t seem to stop her mouth, or the emotions boiling up inside her. “I will not emulate your blatant disrespect, even if he accepts such an unnatural egalitarian relationship with you.”
With that, she gave him a shove to get him off that napkin. He didn’t move of course, but his brows lifted nearly to his hairline. Then the corner of his mouth tugged up, and he took a step back. Snatching up the napkin, she saw him grin. It made her even angrier. Turning away, she intended to put the napkin in the trash, but instead Niall caught her about the waist, hauled her back against him. She snarled at him, astonishing herself by calling him some highly uncomplimentary names.
Niall’s chuckle against her ear was sensual and dangerous. “You’re asking for another spanking, lass. A much harder one.”
If he tried, she swore she’d take a pound of his flesh in trade.
Under those conditions, I might enjoy watching you get spanked.
Why doesn’t Niall deserve a spanking?
Evan’s laughter confused her. Somehow she’d pleased him. It made her angry, because everything in her responded to that approbation, even as she felt like she was being teased.
“Easy, lass.” Niall kept a firm hold on her, stroking her hair off her neck, knuckles tracing her still damp temple and cheek. Then he put his warm lips against her throat.
Her nails dug into the hand holding her waist, not gently, but he scored her with his teeth, a sharp bite that made her whimper. His other hand tangled in her hair, held her immobile as he took his time with it, suckling beads of water from her skin, nuzzling her beneath her ear.
She was in no-man’s-land. Though still riding a storm of emotions, she realized she’d just behaved horribly, said unforgivable things. Yet Evan was pleased with her, and Niall was kissing her as if he’d just discovered a woman’s flesh. She couldn’t resist pressing her head against his shoulder, tilting it away to give him better access, her nails now biting into his hand for a different reason. Her body above and below his arm were cold, needy.