“After you’ve dressed, Sandor will take you to your rooms,” he told Lily, buttoning his trousers and imprisoning his privates within the tight cloth.
That should make them lie dormant.
“During the day you’ll have the run of the castel. In the evening, you’ll come to me or I to you, but we’ll be together at night.”
He didn’t leave her any room for disagreement. Lily, apparently as love-struck and dazzled as he, merely gave him a glowing look and nodded. Putting on the shirt, he tossed the ruffled cravat onto the bed, fastened the 24 buttons of his waistcoat, and decided to ignore the gold-braided coat. He kissed Lily again.
“Tomorrow night I’ll introduce you to my brothers.”
He left her standing there, clutching the towel to her breasts.
He was surprised to find Sabine waiting for him in the corridor.
“Well,” Marek said, as the doctor ran along beside him, trying to match his stride to the ghidaj’s long-legged steps. “I see you’re not afraid to come near me now.”
“You used the soap solution I sent?” Loudly and obviously, Sabine inhaled.
“It made my cock tingle.”
“That’s the wintergreen. It’s good for sore muscles. I assume you’ve some sore muscles, my lord?” He ignored the sideways glare Marek gave him. “I see you’re wearing one of your new suits, or part of it, at least.”
“I had no choice. You take a lot upon yourself, Sabine.”
“It becomes you, lord. You look every bit the ghidaj.”
“I already look like a ghidaj,” Marek retorted. “These trousers are uncomfortable. They choke my privates.”
“I doubt that, sire. After the tight place they’ve been in tonight, those trousers probably seem incredibly loose.”
Marek chose to ignore that, too.
“You were careful, I suppose, sir?”
“Of course.” Marek didn’t let Sabine know how he’d wavered, or of his solution.
The doctor frowned. “I don’t recall giving you any…”
“I’ve sheets to be burned,” Marek interrupted. “Just now, however, I’ve something else I wish you to do for me. Get me a supply of lambskins.”
“Lambskins? Y-you intend to do this again?” Relieved, but confused, Sabine stuttered. He truly hadn’t expected that.
Gods, is the master going to be one of those whose siege lasts many days? How and why has this come upon him so suddenly? Is it sânge dirijare, or… Surely it can’t be love? Not with a deomi?
“Sabine, I intend to do it continuously.” Marek gave him a brilliant smile. “Yes, two dozen at least. I want them in my chamber when I retire at sunup.”
Leaving the doctor wondering where he was going to find twenty-four condoms in the next eight hours, Marek walked away.
* * *
When he finally returned to his chamber, Lily was gone, but her delicate scent lingered, leaving promises of more passion-filled nights and that wonderfully surprising emotion he felt when he was with her. Though he wanted to go to her now, Marek forced himself to stay away. He made himself climb into the bed and prepare to sleep.
The sheets had been changed, dutifully consigned to the laundry’s hearth. The evidence of their first coupling was no longer there, but in his mind’s-eye Marek could still see the iridescent, aqua-blue froth of his seed and the bright red spots of Lily’s blood puddled within it.
With a sigh he fell asleep, face pressed into a pillow on which he could swear he still sensed the girl’s delicious deomi fragrance.
Chapter 17
The following night at breakfast, he introduced Lily to the twins and Dan. His cousin acted like the gentleman he was. The twins were another matter.
Each taking one of Lily’s hands, they kissed her fingers. Vlad turned over the one he held and pressed his lips against her palm as Andrei kissed the pulse on her wrist. They both smiled those brilliant Strigoi smiles.
“I suppose it’s too late,” Vlad began, positioning himself on her right. “For me…”
“…to ask you to abandon my brother and give me a chance?” Andrei finished, sidling nearer.
Looking a trifle startled at being enclosed between two handsome, blond giants, Lily managed a smile. “I’m spoken for, your lordships.”
“No lordship, please,” Vlad protested. “I’m Vlad, and this is Andrei.” He waved a hand at his twin, then his cousin. “And Dan. After all, if you’re sleeping with one of us…”
“You may as well be on intimate terms with the rest,” Andrei concluded, inhaling the fragrance in her hair with a near-esxggerated movement.
With a lover’s newly-discovered apprehension, Marek stood to one side watching their behavior with wary tolerance. He thought they were entirely too close, looking as if they were ready to pounce. He’d seen the twins do this before, but—by the Oracle—how dare they think they could do it to his woman?
When Lily looked from one to the other with an expression he interpreted as dismay, he decided enough was enough. He’d best put the two in their places. Before he could speak, Lily did it for him.
“I’m only sleeping with one of you.” She looked from Vlad to Andrei. “I think that entitles me to set a limit on how intimate the terms with the others.” She held out her hand to Marek. “Isn’t that so, my dearest?”
The look the boys turned on him was priceless.
“Mind what you say, brothers.” He gave each a stern glare while Lily smiled.
Marek kissed her hand. Andrei gave him a little kissing moue and Vlad hid his smile behind his fingers.
“I think I’ve given them too much freedom.” Damn it, he knew he had.
“I heard much worse than that at Madame Lubos’,” she reminded him.
“You’re not at Madame Lubos’ now.” He led her to her place at table.
Lily sat with the dignity of a highborn lady, making the twins sigh as they seated themselves.
He aimed a glance in their direction, saying between gritted teeth, “My brothers will treat you with respect. Or else.”
While the meal was served, he waited for the twins to commit some other sin so he could blast them with his anger, but they prudently remained quiet.
“I hope you won’t find our fare too unpalatable,” he apologized, as the first course, a thin unseasoned soup, was brought in. “We’ve a fatal susceptibility to a good many herbs and spices, I’m afraid.”
“I wondered why some dishes I prepared for Madame Lubos were underseasoned and others normal fare,” she answered. “Now, I know. However, the roasted fowl last night, and the fresh fruit were particularly enjoyable.” A smile curved her mouth. “Especially the cherries.”
“Yes,” he agreed, his smile wider. “I enjoyed the cherries, also.”
The twins exchanged glances and looked puzzled. Dan smiled knowingly.
As soon as dinner was over, Marek whisked the girl away, practically dragging her to his bedchamber. Though he had other duties to perform before the sun came up, he ignored them, picking her up and carrying to the bed, scattering garments along the way.
Following was a pleasant confusion of murmured endearments, fondlings and caresses increasing in passion and strength to fever pitch until Marek pulled away with a gasp, trying to force air into his lungs as Lily atempted to smother him with kisses.
A little coffer had been placed on the table by the bed. Fumbling it open, he brought out a lambskin, reflecting that Sabine had performed a minor miracle by locating even a dozen of the items so quickly. As he slid it over his shaft, pulling the top tight with a little leather drawstring, she peered over his shoulder.
“Why are you covering your member with that thing?”
“To save our lives and prevent a new one.”
“That’s a sin.” She looked shocked.
“Who says that?” He stopped in his task to look at her.
“The priests.” Under his stare, she went on uncertainly, “Th-they say it’s a sin for those of our religion to p
revent conception.”
“I’m not of your Faith.” Marek returned to tying the string. “Therefore, it doesn’t apply to me. Anyway, your priests also teach to spill seed’s a sin. Why didn’t you protest my doing that?”
“I wasn’t certain it happened. I don’t understand, my lord. Don’t you want our union to be so blessed?”
It surprised him how she calmly accepted she might become pregnant.
“Not necessarily.” Not if it cost his life.
“Just think how he’d look,” Lily protested. “My red hair and your wings. No woman, human or otherwise, would be able to withstand him.”
Marek ignored the mental image flitting through his imagination.
“It’s a law of my species, Lily. Deomi and aventurieri may not procreate. If we do, we’ll both be killed. I don’t want that to happen. I want to grow old with you. Even if it’s childlessly.”
“Will you? Grow old, I mean. Or will I be the only one?” She brought up a question Marek hadn’t thought of, his considerations not yet past the bedchamber door. “Will you love me when I’ve wrinkles and white hair and you’re still young and virile? I know aventurieri age slowly, and I know how quickly deomi wither in comparison.”
“There’s a way to prevent that.” He was grateful her attention was off that other subject. “If you’re brave enough, and if you wish it.”
He’d let her choose whether she wanted to stay with him forever.
“It’s called blood-thrall. We use it to bind deomi to us. In exchange for being our servants, for doing for us things we’re unable, they gain our protection and a longer life span. Once a thrall has lived two decades, the minutes slow to a crawl.”
“Do you consider me a servant?” She managed a playful pout. “I thought I was your woman.”
“A poor choice of words.” He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re my love, my mate, my crimson Lily of the Valley.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No.” He had no idea whether the thrall felt pain. Certainly Ruxanda hadn’t seemed to. “In fact, the first night we joined, part of the ritual was already done. Do you wish to continue it?”
She didn’t hesitate. “If it makes me like you, if it keeps you loving me forever…yes.”
“You won’t be like me, Lily.” He was quick to correct her. “You won’t be forced to drink another’s blood to survive, you won’t fear the sunlight, and you’ll never have wings. All it will do is guarantee you age much more slowly than other deomi, and live longer.”
“That’s enough, I suppose.” She looked a little disappointed. “Though I would’ve liked wings. Don’t your women have wings, too?”
“Of course, they do, but they rarely use them.”
He could never remember seeing his mother or any of his female cousins fly, although he was certain once while he was home from school, he’d heard a giggle sounding suspiciously like his stepmother’s outside his window. Since his room was next to his father’s, he assumed János had convinced Anike to soar with him while the moon was down and no one could see.
“Why is that? If I had wings, I’d fly everywhere.”
He thought he’d love to see Lily with her hair floating around her like a crimson cloud while her wings bore her skyward, keeping pace with his own. “We have to be naked to loose our wings, or at least remove our coats and shirts. Our females consider it unseemly to do that.”
Modesty could be a burden, since it kepts our females earthbound.
“What must I do?”
Marek thought she sounded more than eager.
“We exchange blood. That’s all.”
She grimaced slightly. He slid off the bed, pulling her with him.
“The first night, I drank your blood. Remember?”
She blushed, and nodded.
“I took the blood from your innermost part into myself, and now you must do the same to me.”
“Very well, my love.” She kissed Marek on the lips, surprisingly enthusiastic. “How shall I do it?”
Tugging loose the leather bow, he pulled off the lambskin, dropping it onto the bed. One hand went to Lily’s shoulder, pushing her to her knees. She looked at his groin, his member now soft and so tender-looking.
Subsequent bleedings must come from the same place. The idea excited him, and even if it hadn’t been necessary, he wanted it to come from there, from the spot where he’d awakened to the warmth of her mouth upon him. He wanted to feel the heat of her tongue on his flesh again.
“You want it done there? I can’t.” She encircled his member with hesitant fingers. “It’ll hurt you.”
“Any pain I suffer will be worth it to keep you with me always.”
The words were exaggerated and grandiose but he meant them. For a moment, she cradled him in her hand, resting her cheek upon the vulnerable crown. She kissed it, letting her breath flow over it before stroking her tongue against the smooth skin.
“Please, Lily.” Marek wrapped an arm around the bedpost and closed his eyes. “Take from me.”
He shuddered as her teeth grazed along the tip. The pressure increased, bringing a slight but acceptable pain. She hesitated one last time, kissed the delicate crown of his cock, then bit deeply into the crest.
Holy Oracle, that hurt! Somehow, he managed not to cry out, hands holding so tightly to the bedpost, his nails gouged deep scratches in the wood. A wave of blackness flowed over him, dissolving into a frightening surge of sheer pleasure as he felt the blood flow and Lily begin to suck, drawing it out of his body.
He forced himself not to thrust against her tongue. There must be only blood, no seed, nothing but the fluid coursing through his veins and pumping into his heart and now flowing from his life-giving organ.
He gave an unbelievably pleasurable sigh as Lily raised her head, released him, and stood up. Marek reeled and nearly fell, stopping his plunge to the floor by a hand on the bedpost.
“I took too much.” She was all concern. “You’re swooning.”
“No, no,” he assured her, blinking as the darkness receded. “I’m all right.”
“What do we do now?” She wiped a drop of blood from the corner of her mouth. He seized her hand and licked it off her fingers.
“At the right time, we repeat this.” He went over the ritual with her as Sabine had done with him. “In three months, it’ll be complete.”
“I don’t think I can do this to you again,” she protested. “Certainly not that often.”
“You can,” he assured her. “You’ll see. Next time, it’ll be easier.”
All things get easier with time. Whether it’s giving your lover’s cock a bloodletting or killing a man for loving the wrong woman. Forcing that thought out of his mind, he picked up the lambskin.
“Now then, let’s put this to use.”
“While you’re still wounded?” Soft hands went around his tool, cradling it protectively.
“Sweetling. Look.”
He pulled her hands away. While they watched, the cuts where her teeth had torn his flesh closed.
“Small wounds heal quickly,” he whispered.
Now that they were of the same blood, their coming-together that night was more sensual and loving than before. Later, in whispers spaced with caresses and kisses, they talked.
This was something new to Marek, as novel as the whole experience of loving, and he liked it.
“My father was a carpenter. After Mama died, he began to drink and gamble and soon no one would hire him.”
“How old were you then?”
“About six, I think. I barely remember my mother, just that she had red hair like mine and smiled a lot.”
Her father continued to gamble and soon was in debt to people who wanted more than his markers. Eventually, he took Lily up the mountainside to Madame Lubos’ establishment, where she was willing to buy young girls to train.
“I sat in a beautiful room filled with velvet-covered furniture and waited while Papa and the pretty lady went
outside. I was afraid I’d get the velvet dirty, so I stayed very still. The lady came back alone, and when I asked her where Papa was, she said he’d gone and I belonged to her now.” Lily sighed. “She took me to the kitchen, told me I could sleep in the little room next to the creamery and that was my home until I heard your gardi talking to her about bringing her girls to your brothers’ banchet. I thought I might get enough money to run away.”
Marek ran his fingers through the red tangle on her shoulder. “I still don’t understand why she didn’t put you to work upstairs.” He kissed a curl. “Though I’m thankful she didn’t make that sweet maidenhead of yours available to some fat boyar from the valley.”
“She said I was ugly with my red hair and colorless eyes. She told me no man, deomi or aventurieri, would want an awkward thing like me and if I showed my face upstairs, she’d beat me until I couldn’t breathe, so I stayed hidden in the kitchen whenever customers were about.”
“The woman’s a fool, and I’m a fortunate man because of that.”
“Now, then…” She turned to him, leaning on one elbow. “Tell me of your life.”
“There’s not much to tell. I’m simply an indulged noble’s son.” He glossed over his family’s history, not mentioning the duties he performed for the Domnitor. That could be done later. He did tell her of his father’s murder by Mircea Ravagiu and the vow he and his brothers made.
“My lord, there’s something I would ask you.” She kissed his fingers.
“Ask me anything, my crimson lily.”
Clutching his hand, she rolled away, as if her question couldn’t be asked while near him.
“Last night you said a ghidaj’s physically different.”
“That’s right.” He frowned. What’s she going to ask? He remembered how she’d studied his body the night before while he shaved.
“Is that why your eyes are two colors?”
That question made him laugh. “I’m afraid so. You see, the leadership of a House doesn’t necessarily go to the eldest son, but to the one who meets the rules of the Principiu.”
“The Principiu?”
“The laws handed down to us by the Oracle.” He settled slightly, drawing her closer. “Each family within a House has a leader, but there’s one ghidaj over all of them. My casa’s the Atentatori, and I’m its ghidaj.”
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