Lust By Blood: A M/M Historical Romance (Vicious Vampires Book 3)

by Vivienne Cox

  Never before had Ignatius been so humiliated. “Ah– apologies, Highness, I’ve– forgive me.” He sunk into a bow so low he nearly threatened to topple the rest of the way over, and was still startled when Lucian steadied his shoulder.

  “Why are you apologizing?”

  “It’s… improper–”

  “I seemed to have made the first move,” Lucian interrupted, cocking his head. “If anyone need apologize, it is I.”

  “No!” he blurted. Lucian apologizing to him. Lucian never needed to apologize to him. If anything, Ignatius needed to be thanking him, daily. And for him to apologize for something that Ignatius enjoyed, something Ignatius would have liked to try again– no. Ignatius took a breath and continued, aiming for calm. “You did not– it was not… not unwelcome.” He barely dared to say the words, but he couldn’t withhold them any longer. Not now, not after these… feedings. There could be no secrets regardless.

  Lucian seemed to mull the words over, and Ignatius waited whilst holding his breath. And then the prince smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

  “Well?”

  “Should I merely continuing feeding and pretend this never happened or shall I return to kissing you instead?”

  The first option, surely. It was infinitely more safe– which was saying something, as it was a bite– and far more respectful, to allow Lucian to tend his blood needs and then continue on with work. There were countless documents to look over. Lucian’s clothes would need washed and mended if necessary, activity to prepare for the visiting comrades that would be here within the week.

  But something was spurring him towards the second instead– and it wasn’t a question what, not with the way Lucian was grinning at him, again fanged and still bloody, and Ignatius wanted to be… improper.

  He wouldn’t make such a bold move by itself, but he did step forward again. He was suddenly aware of the blood still running freely down his throat, brought to attention by Lucian’s gaze and the sticky warmth beneath his collarbone. “Both?” he said, and he could hardly be at fault if it came out sounding marginally like a question.

  These were new territories. Ones he would very much– very selfishly– like to explore. With the glint in Lucian’s eye as the man leaned down to capture his mouth, Ignatius, ever straight-laced, never daring to do a thing that would toe the proverbial line, would allow himself to be reckless, and kiss him back without reservation. He had to. It was near life or death, necessary as the air he needed to breathe and the blood Lucian needed to drink. Essential.

  In the next breath, shaky against Lucian’s lips, Ignatius laughed.

  Lucian retracted slightly. “Yes?” he drawled, licking blood and saliva from his lips.

  Ignatius stared, and then shook his head. “I’m being ridiculous,” he said, and couldn’t help but grin at the circumstances. Him and the prince of Holstein. Gods. The Six must be smiling on him… or frowning. It was hard to say, but he found, just then, he didn’t care.

  “You could stand to be ridiculous more often,” Lucian remarked.

  He ought not to agree. But he did. “I could,” he said, and reached to tuck a piece of hair behind Lucian’s ear. “Were it not for my ever encompassing need to remain professional for my prince.”

  “And if your prince bids you to be more… unprofessional, as you say?”

  Ignatius’s lips twitched towards a wider smile. “Then I would have no choice but to oblige. Over… time,” he added, slowly, a sobering reminder he had no prior experience with relationships. And he would still need time to process these feelings. And the reciprocation of them. (Gods, the reciprocation–) “If permitted.”

  “I will not press,” Lucian said immediately. “Fangs and claws aside, I still do not intend to hurt you.

  In any way,” he clarified, and held out his hand.

  Ignatius took it. “I know.” He had always known, long before these sensations had come into play.

  “You trust me?”

  “Indubitably.”

  It was truly unfair, the way that Lucian could look at someone as though he could see to their soul.

  Perhaps he could. Once, when Ignatius had been fresh blood in Fenestala Manor, it had been daunting.

  Now, it still was, but in a different way. Ignatius opened his mouth to speak, and Lucian beat him to it.

  “I think I’ve been in love with you for far too long,” he said.

  He wasn’t certain if his face had paled from its permanently flushed state, but it was threat to light up again at that. And I you, Your Highness. The words were on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t say them. Instead, he raised his free hand to tug at his bloodied collar, and tilted his head to the side again. An invitation.

  Lucian laughed warmly, and descended.

  5

  Chapter 5

  “So, you and my brother have finally expressed your feelings towards one another.”

  Ignatius fumbled the tray right out of his hands, and thanked the Six as the silverware landed on the carpet instead of hardwood. “Lady Luna, how…” Even if they could smell Lucian on him, surely it was no different than any other time; they hadn’t done anything… particularly risque, save feeding and snogging, and Ignatius spent all of his free time with the prince regardless. Of course he would smell of him; he was the chamberlain, and the only one in the household who was so close to Lucian. But Luna…

  “I told her.” Lucian strode into the room. The long white cloak he was wearing dragged across the floor, and Ignatius stared. He had…

  “Lucian!” he hissed, clutching the tray between his fingers. “I thought we had agreed–”

  Lucian stopped him with a bemused look, as Ignatius remembered he was talking to the prince despite how… unprofessionally they had been behaving around one another the past handful of weeks. He was still his liege, albeit if he was also his… lover.

  “It’s only my sister. I could hardly hope to keep something so monumental from her.” He dropped into the oversize armchair, and tipped his head back. “Likely she figured it out weeks ago,” he continued, closing his eyes, “nevermind being too polite to say anything.”

  “It was not my place to ask without at least one of you admitting to it,” Luna said. “Even if you two haven’t been terribly subtle.”

  He tried to think back. Had they truly been so obvious? They had agreed it better to avoid sharing details about the latest development in their relationship. Lucian seemingly bedding a human wouldn’t shock as many as it would cause gossip about Ignatius’s intentions– attempting to climb the ranks. Yes, from an outsider’s point of view, he could envision it. But it wasn’t that. It had never been that.

  It wasn’t even about the euphoria of being fed upon. He was both pleased and proud to be able to service his prince in any way possible, now more than ever, but even were it not a necessity, he would still be certain in his feelings. Bloodletting or not, he was, undeniably, in love with Lucian.

  The bloodletting was just an exhilarating side effect, as it were.

  “Have we been transparent in our interactions…?” he asked quietly, and Allissa laughed.

  “No, dear Ignatius,” she said, reaching up to take the teapot from his hands. He opened his mouth to protest her pouring her own cup of tea, and she waved away his concern before he could even begin. “But you have spent nearly your whole life here, with Lucian and I. You are our friend. We can see things that others cannot for our closeness. Nuances of your behavior.”

  “My Lady…”

  That was… touching. He considered himself friend privately, and the Florences had been nothing but kind to him since he had arrived. But neither of them had ever spoken so boldly about their friendship, rarely acknowledged it in so many words at all.

  “As well the way you look at him now,” Luna continued, eyes twinkling.

  Ahh, and there was the teasing. He adjusted his spectacles and returned to serving afternoon tea.

  “I’ve no idea what you mean, Lady
Allissa,” he said lightly, as his back was turned.

  “I see.” Luna laughed softly. The soft clink of a glass cup on saucer. “That asides, I know my brother best of all in this life. I can see the distinction between the Lucian of a few weeks ago and the Lucian who is in love.”

  “Sister.”

  “What? It’s only the truth.” She looked across the room at him. “You’re very tender to the ones you care about. Usually it’s only ever me or Mother. It’s encouraging to see you handling someone else that way.”

  “Encouraging?” Lucian repeated. “What are you trying to say?”

  “That you are a good brother, and full of love, but are absolute shite at expressing it.”

  “Allissa!”

  Ignatius stifled a laugh, holding up a cup in question to Lucian. He waved it away, and continued to Allissa, “Mother would wash your mouth to hear you speak in such a manner.”

  “A good thing she doesn’t know our secrets, then,” she said, smiling. “Right, brother?”

  It was with a heavy sigh that Lucian folded to her again, fingers tapping out a inconsistent beat on the chair. “This is one thing that we… will have to avoid telling Mother.”

  “Unfortunately so,” Luna replied shortly. “Under different circumstances, she would be so overjoyed to hear of this news…”

  Under different circumstances. Right. The very stark reminder that he was the outlier to this family; he was human to their vampire, he was common in comparison to their nobility. Of course a relationship between him and Lucian would not be looked kindly upon.

  “She would not. If anything, I’d be forced into an arranged marriage much the same as your own.” “My betrothal will be of a slightly different necessity.”

  “And mine would be to find a wife by which to provide heirs for,” Lucian sneered. “A task I wish very much never to be involved in. And you,” Ignatius jumped slightly, steeling his expression to turn around, “need not stew in silence. Say what you are thinking.”

  “Lucian,” Luna admonished. “By the stars above, you need a hard lesson in tact.”

  “I–” Lucian made a face. “– apologize. Habit, I suppose.” He looked back at Ignatius and, softer now, “apologies, Ignatius. The balance is… precarious at best, now. But do not hold back on our accounts.”

  “I am sorry that my brother,” Luna said, grumbling over her tea, “has known you for all of your adult life and still does not manage to outwardly display a gentle bone in his body. If I weren’t his sister, I could not imagine what you see in him.”

  Lucian glared halfheartedly, and Ignatius pushed away the thoughts of hands framing his face, fingers twisting at the ends of his hair, and the way Lucian looked at him so kindly when they were folded upon the sofa together. It wasn’t that Lucian couldn’t be gentle; Ignatius knew it was years upon years of a public persona and the need to not express himself in such a manner. How could he think otherwise… when he kissed him so softly in the vestiges of morning light? He knew. He knew.

  And there were more important things to think about, as it were.

  “Is it the fact that I’m human, or that I come from an unremarkable family that would sit poorly with the Queen?” he asked carefully. Part of him didn’t truly want the answer, part of him already knew. But if they were being open and honest here…

  “I wouldn’t say you’re of an unremarkable family,” Allissa said slowly. “The Hanstroms have been serving vampire clans for decades now.”

  “Then I’m remarkable in the sense I haven’t been turned,” he said bluntly. While what Lady Allissa said was true– the Hanstrom family had only ever existed purely to serve– Ignatius was the only one left in his family that wasn’t a vampire. Even his uncle had been blooded, years and years ago. Well and truly the outlier. Call him ridiculous, but he favored his humanity.

  “Yes.”

  “Would it ease the process if I were?”

  “No,” Lucian said immediately, while Luna agreed with a “likely not.”

  Ignatius pursed his lips.

  “You do not wish to be turned,” Lucian said. “It’s very simple. Your humanity versus a… clandestine relationship… there is no question of which we favor.”

  Ignatius smiled, very faintly. His protectiveness was, ever, reassuring.

  “That aside, you’re missing the most obvious.”

  “That I am a man,” he supplied. He had already guessed, long before this conversation had begun. The main reason that their relationship need be secret. Bedding a blood donor regardless of gender hardly mattered, but a committed relationship would. Lucian, as he’d plainly said, was expected to assist in continuing the Florence bloodline. No amount of contemplation was going to help either of them, in that regard.

  “Indeed…”

  They were all three silent for a moment, before Allissa spoke again.

  “Perhaps it would not be so bad. If The Chosen and I–”

  “No.”

  “Lucian, he and I will be expected to bear children when the time comes–”

  “Yes, but I need not think about it,” he muttered.

  She only rolled her eyes slightly. “I’m only mentioning for the benefit of one day telling Mother, that is all.”

  “It truly need not apply,” Ignatius interrupted quietly. “As pointed out, I am human. My lifespan compared to yours is… merely a blink of an eye.” Lucian made a face, and Allissa sighed. “Oh, Ignatius.”

  “It’s truth, however, my Lady. My lifetime spent in service to the household probably passes like a month or so for your family, and human servants are ten-a-penny when it comes to vampire nobility.”

  “No one is going to be able to replace you,” she said.

  “But they will,” he said gently. He had no qualms on his mortality. He couldn’t, not living here, not with his life. He didn’t plan on going so soon, but there was no doubt that his story would be well and truly finished before the Florences had barely begun. Such was the consequence of being a human in a vampire’s service. “One day.”

  “I don’t want to think of this, either,” Lucian interrupted, and Ignatius must have imagined the way that his voice sounded slightly strained if only because the man’s face was as impassive as ever. “Six above, the whole conversation has gone off-putting.”

  “Yes,” Luna agreed brightly. “Let us speak of something else before we send my dear brother into septicemic shock.”

  Lucian groaned softly, and Ignatius tucked the conversation away as further food for thought that he truly didn’t care to ruminate on himself, either.

  “She is correct, you’re aware.”

  Lucian sat, long legs stretched out on the mattress in front of him, as Ignatius dutifully traversed the room to snuff the candles.

  “She, Your Highness?” He had to admit that his attention was divided; he’d heard the kitchens had welcomed a whole arrival of fresh fish during the day, and Ignatius was keen on trying a new recipe he’d been turning over in his head for the past few weeks. If he could get his hands on a good halibut… and adding shallots into the dish would bring out the flavor…

  “My sister.”

  “Oh, of course. There was never any doubt.” He paused only for a moment before he lifted the snuffer from the wick, and gently wafted the smoke away. “But on which topic again?”

  “You are irreplaceable.”

  That gave him pause. “… ah.” How terribly heavy such words had become in the past few weeks, the flush of heat and embarrassment coloring the tops of his ears. So this was what it was like to be in love. “And you as well, High– Lucian,” he amended, casting a soft smile over his shoulder.

  “And yet I’m not in danger of going anywhere anytime soon,” Lucian replied. His voice was wrong now, less calculated, more sharp. Emotional.

  Ignatius turned to address him. “Nor am I, I would hope. I would stay as long as you’ll have me.” “I would have you forever.”

  Oh, but he was emotional. “Lucian…”r />
  The man sat up a little straighter, eyebrows furrowing. “That wasn’t a proposition. Merely a… ah…”

  “Declaration?” Ignatius tried, and Lucian nodded curtly.

  “Yes. That. A declaration.”

  He took a breath and held it in, focusing on the swell of air in his lungs and the way his heart seemed to distend alongside it. It was… good to hear. Lucian was tricky. Unemotional in the best of circumstances, so many rules of behaviors he was expected to have as the prince of Holstein. Saving face to save the kingdom. Ignatius was well-versed on that himself. Between the two of them? Expressing emotion was… so very fraught with complication.

  He was no better on the matter. Ignatius let the breath rush from his lungs, the tension reaching crescendo and then ebbing away with a tiny smile and five uttered words. “I love you, too, Lucian.”

  “Come,” Lucian said, amidst a tiny smile and offering his hand.

  “Ah, but–”

  “Candles,” Lucian said idly. “And then bed,” he continued, and settled back into the bed as Ignatius went to snuff the rest of the flames.

  Candles, yes. However, the anxiety was gnawing in the center of his stomach as he extinguished nearly the last of them. All thoughts of composure nearly immediately gone at the face of sharing a bed with the man– in whatever regard, it was another step further and Ignatius wasn’t certain how he could ever be expected to fall asleep while pressed flush against the prince. (Not that he hadn’t thought of it– he had– he had. Several times over, moreso since they had begun to court, but– fantasies were as such, and how to handle it in the face of this one in particular coming true?)

  If he wanted, he could turn down the offer and be none the worse for his worries. Lucian wouldn’t begrudge him for it. But… he didn’t truly want to go. It was just nerves. Expected, given the circumstances, even if he particularly detested feeling so endlessly flustered and confused. Usually, he was so well put together. But when it came to things of this nature…