by Jo Carlisle
“You can do this. Drink!”
For her, he tried. He really did. He even managed a swallow, sweet and delicious, before he choked and most of the life-giving blood ran down his chin and neck, wasted. Even so, a tiny spark ignited inside him, wavered, and almost went out. Then it caught and strengthened, becoming a sliver of light that moved through his chest to his stomach and limbs. The pain lessened a fraction and he opened his eyes, staring into the stunning face of his rescuer.
“Who are you?” he croaked. If he didn’t survive, he’d have at least that to take with him.
“Kassandra,” she said, carefully wiping the blood from his chin and neck.
When she didn’t offer more information, he reached out, wrapping his fingers around her wrist. “You know my name. How? Where am I?”
She shook her head. “Now isn’t the time. I’ll explain when you’re better.” Looking over his shoulder, she addressed the man who was holding him. “Taryn, lay him down again, carefully.”
“But—”
“Regain your strength and then we’ll talk.” Leaning forward, she kissed Luc on the cheek, then nodded to Taryn.
Despite his weak protest, Luc found himself being tucked in again like a child by both Kassandra and the bare-chested man with long black hair. As Luc settled and closed his eyes, however, he couldn’t have honestly said he minded the pampering that much. The feeling of warm contentment, and exhaustion, chased him into a dreamless sleep.
He awoke sometime later to voices—Kassandra and another male talking.
“What will you do with him, mistress?” The man sounded concerned.
“I don’t know yet, Taryn.” A pause, and then she spoke more softly. “I’ll figure out something.”
Do with him. What did Taryn mean by that? And why would Kassandra have to figure out something? She’d sounded so grave, as if…what? She was sorry she’d saved him? Or his presence here was causing some sort of inconvenience?
“One thing seems clear—the vampire can’t leave here for the foreseeable future, if ever. Not that I’m telling you what to do,” the man added quickly.
“I didn’t take it that way, and of course you’re right.” She sighed. “He’s here for the duration, come what may. But I can’t bring myself to be sorry about it.”
“You’d kill the werewolf all over again.”
Her voice hardened. “In an instant. No one harms what’s mine.”
The last two words and the emotion behind them delivered a punch to his chest, leaving him breathless and glad he was lying flat on his back.
By the gods, she’d imprisoned him, then. It was apparent to him now that Taryn’s deferential manner, his reference to her as “mistress” meant he was her personal slave. Somehow, she’d been in the area when Luc had been attacked and decided to keep him for her own. The fact that she knew his name, though he was certain they’d never met, implied that she knew full well his family was important and that by keeping him, she was creating a problem for herself.
She hadn’t kidnapped him, exactly. She’d rescued a vampire lord from death and simply didn’t plan to give him back. In her mind, her actions were worth the risk. But why?
He’d be angry if he wasn’t so intrigued by the odd circumstances. Not to mention Kassandra. Who was this female to think she could get away with claiming the youngest brother of Lord Aldric Fontaine, prominent New Orleans businessman and Council member, as if he were a lost puppy? The idea made him want to snort in amusement. The pain it would cause, and Kassandra’s determination, held him back.
Careful to remain still, he cracked open his eyes. After a moment, his bleary vision cleared and he found himself in a bed so large, it could comfortably hold six people. Perhaps it had. Otherwise, the accommodations were wasted.
While he’d been drifting in his thoughts, Kassandra and Taryn had left the bedroom. Scanning the vast space, he took in the beautiful furnishings, walnut if he wasn’t mistaken, strong but cut in elegant lines—much like the room’s female occupant. To his left was a walk-in closet, open a bit to reveal a full wardrobe. Directly in front of him, about fifteen feet beyond the foot of the bed, was a master bathroom, beautifully tiled, boasting a big bathtub and separate walk-in shower. To his right was a sitting area next to a huge bay window, curtains open to reveal that the sun had just dipped below the horizon.
His stomach rumbled noisily, making him wonder how long he’d been Kassandra’s guest. Damn, he was starving for solid food, and his bladder was screaming, too. Those two pressing needs were enough to get him moving.
Slowly he sat up and was immediately swamped with dizziness, followed by a side dose of nausea. Scooting to the edge of the bed, he swung his legs over the side and clasped his head in his hands for a few moments, trying to make the room stop spinning. Gods. If vampires weren’t so damned hard to kill, he’d be out of his misery by now.
Then again, he would’ve missed out on satisfying his curiosity about the beautiful Kassandra.
Once his brain had cleared enough to enable him to stand, he pushed up. The room held steady…but his legs didn’t. He took two wobbly steps before his knees buckled and he hit floor. The plush carpet cushioned his fall but did little to spare his dignity. He’d been naked in a stranger’s bedroom plenty of times—but never as an invalid.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, struggling to his hands and knees.
With great effort, he crawled until he gained the doorway to the bathroom. Using the door frame as a support, he stood and made his way inside, bracing himself on the wall, then the vanity, and the wall again, all the way to a group of built-in cabinets, where it took him several tries before he found one containing towels.
Fluffy terry cloth in hand, he turned and gazed at the shower. Obviously he hadn’t thought this out very well. As badly as he longed to wash off the blood and werewolf slobber, he was still as weak as a newborn baby. He could fall in the shower, hit his head, and knock himself out cold. While he’d heal faster than a human, the added injury would delay his recovery. The bath wasn’t a much better option—if he passed out, he could drown just like anyone else. He was a vampire, not a damned fish.
“Shit.”
Making his way to the tub, he lowered himself to sit on the side, wincing at the cold marble on his bare ass. Now he was naked, dirty, hungry, cold, and stranded. Things had to start looking up. Right?
He wasn’t sure how long he waited before he heard Kassandra calling his name from the bedroom. “I’m in h-here,” he answered, teeth chattering.
She appeared in the doorway and halted, eyes widening. “What are you doing out of bed?”
Shooting her a tired grin, he waved a hand at the towel on his lap and then at the shower. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m filthy, but…” He shrugged. No point in stating that he’d been too weak to accomplish the task on his own.
Hands on her hips, she pinned him with a glare. “Odin’s balls, you’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?” She stalked toward him.
“How do you figure? You don’t even know me.”
“You survived an attack that would’ve killed just about any being, and now you’re wandering about when you should be resting.”
“Good point.”
She didn’t sound too put out, though. In fact, he could have sworn he’d detected a hint of admiration in her tone. Crouching next to him, she leaned over the edge of the tub, plugged the drain, and turned on the spigot. As she tested the water’s temperature, Luc took a few moments to study her.
Yes, she was every bit as beautiful as he’d thought—his pain-filled haze hadn’t skewed his perception at all. Tall, with long blond hair, she had a killer body and big brown eyes set in a face that could start a war over such a prize. But there was something about her, something compelling that went beyond her fantastic looks.
It’s the way she moves.
Satisfied with the water, Kassandra stood and went to a cabinet, and his eyes drank in her every movement. She walked with feline gra
ce, almost glided, hips swiveling, round ass swaying back and forth in the snug black pants. As she fished in the cabinet, located a jar, then sauntered back to the tub, he admired how she moved with confidence, easy in her skin, even when performing a mundane task.
Removing the lid from the jar, she poured a generous amount of what appeared to be bath salts into the flow of water, then recapped it. Never once did she offer mindless chatter as many women did, nor did she seem to be aware of the lengthening silence between them. This was a woman in complete control of her world and its inhabitants. Strong. Self-assured.
Sexy as fucking hell.
His cock twitched in interest and despite his injured state, rose to half-mast. And for once in his long life he felt like a wide-eyed whelp playing at being a man instead of the experienced, carefree lover he was reputed to be. When she turned off the water and took his arm to help him into the tub, he had to resist the urge to cover his rapidly filling cock.
He was not embarrassed or shy, he reasoned. Simply off balance.
Letting the towel fall to the floor, he accepted her assistance and stepped in. As she steadied him and he settled into the hot water, he groaned in bliss. “Ooh, that feels good. I was chilled to the bone.”
“You lost a lot of blood,” she said, her scrutiny briefly traveling to his groin before lifting to his face again. “You need much more than the swallow Taryn and I managed to get down you if you’re going to heal properly.”
“You’ve already done so much for me,” he replied, hoping he conveyed his gratitude. “Thank you for saving my life. I don’t want to impose any more than I have.”
Lips tilting upward, she nodded. “You’re welcome. Time will tell if you’re worth the trouble.”
Unease pricked his gut at the echo of her earlier words to Taryn. “What do you mean?”
She paused, her expression closing some. “I’m teasing. You’re definitely not an imposition, or I’d simply throw you out.”
“That’s comforting,” he muttered, cupping his palms over his erection in a futile attempt to force it down. Too bad the woman’s take-charge attitude was arousing as fuck.
“It should be. Now, let’s get you cleaned up, and then we’ll see to getting you some food.”
“If you have a willing donor I can feed from, that will do.”
“I’ll decide what you need,” she said, pulling her black T-shirt over her head and tossing it aside. With a snick of a clasp, her bra followed. “And that’s a bath, my blood, and a good regular meal, in that order.”
Damn, that was hot. “Um, all right…”
His capitulation earned him a stunning smile, and he swallowed with difficulty. He had the distinct impression that this wasn’t a female given to frequent smiles, and he’d been gifted in a significant way. He wanted to earn another one, but he didn’t want to come across as fake or trying too hard. What a weird position to find himself in, Kassandra being so self-possessed and Luc being a vampire his brothers claimed was so free with his laughter that none took him seriously outside the bedroom.
Kassandra tugged off her knee-high boots and then pushed down her pants, kicking them into the pile. Luc blinked at the vision. Clothed, she was stunning. Naked, she was a goddess. Perhaps that wasn’t so far from the truth.
Her large breasts, tipped by rosy nipples, were emphasized nicely by a small waist and taut stomach. Muscled thighs went on forever, so strong in appearance, they could probably crack a man like a walnut; yet they were toned enough to be plenty feminine. A patch of golden hair on her pussy was groomed into a perfect landing strip.
His desperate cock ached to play airplane.
Casually, she raised her arms and reached behind her neck with both hands, working on the tie that bound her braid. The position jutted her breasts as she freed her mane, then shook it out. She approached the tub, and he’d never felt more like a mouse about to be devoured by a cat. He didn’t think he’d mind.
Then she climbed in and reached for a stack of washcloths sitting on a built-in shelf next to several assorted shampoos and oils. Plucking a cloth, she dropped it in the water and gestured to her lap. “Turn around and lean all the way back so I can wet your hair.”
“I can do it—”
“No, you can’t.”
Her tone brooked no argument. What difference did it make, anyway? After hesitating, he did as she said, scooting around so that his back was toward her. Then he leaned back, fumbling to grasp the edge of the tub when she pulled on his shoulders, and he realized she meant for him to go all the way down with the back of his head in the water.
“Relax,” she said softly. “I have you, and I won’t let you fall.”
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to trust her word and let go. As promised, she eased him back and supported his head so that it didn’t go under. That was a relief, but now he stared at the tiled ceiling, hyperaware of his position. He was lying between this gorgeous, naked female’s spread legs, being pleasantly attended to while his erection pointed straight out of the water like a tall lighthouse in the ocean.
Once again, he was vulnerable in her hands.
And he liked it.
Before he had time to worry much over this, she tipped his head back more and got his hair thoroughly wet. Next she moved around some, and he heard the squeeze of a bottle. She began to soap the strands, scrubbing at his scalp.
“Gods, that feels wonderful,” he moaned, closing his eyes.
“Good. Just enjoy.” He did. All too soon she was rinsing his head and sitting him up. “Stay just like that.”
Her musical voice lulled him into a peaceful state. When had he ever surrendered the care of his body to another person? Other than his parents taking care of him as a fledgling vampire child, before his body became immune to human illnesses…never. And this was different. Sensual.
Slowly, she began to wash him. She dragged the soapy cloth over his back and shoulders, then over his arms. Reached around to suds his chest and stomach.
“Lift your hips.”
He obeyed and was rewarded with the cloth delicately rubbing his sensitized cock, soaping the beet red head, then the blue-veined shaft and his balls. Sucking in a breath, he pushed into her hand and almost cursed with frustration when she made a sound of amusement and withdrew.
“Okay, time to rinse.”
Sitting down again, he watched as the suds floated away from his aching groin. As she scooped water over his back and chest, he wondered how in blazing hell to keep from exploding and disgracing himself as a result. Because judging by their interaction so far, she was calling the shots and wouldn’t be pleased if he lost control.
He needn’t have worried.
“Lean against my front,” she murmured. When he complied, she praised him. “Good, love. Now spread those fabulous legs for me.”
Love. He liked the endearment coming from her lips, even though it was meant as a casual term. Then he couldn’t think at all as her hand, slick with new soap, gripped his hard shaft and began to pump, from base to tip, up and down, jacking him in a slow rhythm that had him thrusting into her hand.
“Yes, yes,” he breathed. “Oh gods.”
“You like that.”
“Please don’t stop!”
Chuckling, she increased the pressure and quickened the strokes. That was all it took to have his balls drawing tight into his body, his release ready to shoot. But he knew what she wanted to hear, and it turned him on even more.
“May I come? Please!”
“Good boy. You may,” she whispered into his ear.
Cum spurted from his cock, painting his chest and stomach with pearly ropes. On and on his body spasmed until his release was spent and he lay panting in her arms. Finally catching his breath, he smiled.
“That was incredible.”
She kissed his temple. “And that was only the beginning of the pleasure we’ll bring each other in the centuries to come.”
When her words penetrated, he froze, the s
mile sliding from his face. Sitting up, he scooted around to face her once more, searching that damned composed, confident expression he’d so admired just a few minutes ago. “What are you talking about? I’ve known you only a few hours. I know I owe you my life, and I’ll find a way to repay you, but I’ve got to get home soon.”
Her eyes softened into something very much like pity. “I’m sorry, but that won’t be possible.”
Ice formed in his chest. “Of course it is! My brothers need me and—”
“Luc, this is your home now.”
“What? You can’t be serious. What the fuck is going on here?”
She paused, then delivered the blow. “This is your home…because now, you belong to me.”
3
Heart sinking, Kass watched Luc’s expression rapidly morph from confusion to shock. Then to fear. And then, to inevitable anger.
Gone was the open, sensual creature of moments ago. Guileless, sky blue eyes turned hard and cold as marbles. His jaw tightened, and he shoved a strand of damp blond hair from his face, the motion jerky with frustration.
“I don’t know who you think you are, lady, but you can’t keep me here—wherever here is. As soon as I can walk unassisted, I’m leaving.”
“How will you get there?”
“How do you think? I’ll call my brothers, or a cab.”
“What will you use to call them? Here, we have no need of human technology such as phones, computers, or transportation,” she pointed out reasonably. Remaining calm in the face of his outrage took all of her nerve.
Staring at her for a few seconds, he snorted. “Come on—everybody on earth, from humans to shifters, vampires, and faeries, has some sort of gadget these days.”
“Unless you live outside the earth realm, where they wouldn’t work anyway.”
His eyes narrowed. “Okay, maybe you’d better tell me what you are and where the fuck I am.”
“I am Kassandra, Chooser of the Slain,” she said slowly, letting him process it. “I’m an immortal Valkyrie warrior, like my sisters.”
His mouth fell open, shock momentarily robbing him of speech and wiping out all traces of anger. Then a look of horror spread across on his face. “Then this is Valhalla? I’m going to Odin’s army,” he whispered.