Vampire's Embrace: A Vampire Queen Series Novel

by Joey W. Hill

  He’d gone from seduction to taking, and it had all happened so fast, he saw it had unbalanced her. Strewth, the fierceness startled him, too. Genuine savagery had taken over, near bloodlust, when she spoke another man’s name while Alistair had his mouth between her legs.

  “Tell me,” he said against her cheek as he drove into her, wresting groans from her throat. “Who are you wet for?”

  “You…”

  “Who am I? No thought. Just say it.”

  “My Master,” she said on another shaky breath. When he turned her face to him, he saw it in the desperate glitter of her brown eyes, her parted, hungry lips. He’d have his cock there before they went on their way this evening. He wanted to feel that clever mouth on him. Yes, he was acting like a caveman, but she’d started it. Teasing or not.

  She wanted to have a chance to be a nurse; he might be able to give her that. But she would be reminded that she was his. Often and thoroughly. And maybe that would make it not matter that she hadn’t chosen him. Or a life with him.

  He thought again of that leap he’d felt in her heart when, for just a second, she thought he had the ability to free her from the InhServ responsibility, rather than simply take her back to the school. He pushed it aside, viciously.

  Instead, he laid her down on the bed, put himself upon her, driving into her again, relishing the bite of her nails, her cries. He could give her this, right enough. Make her mindless with need. He drove her up, watching her every expression, feeling every touch.

  Then, on the cusp of having the pleasure of her release around his aching cock, something far less pleasant intruded.

  “God damn it,” he snarled and pulled out of her, so fast she let out a sound of protest and surprise. When he lunged to his feet and reached for his pants, her expression became wary. He had his hand on her thigh, though, and the way he tightened it had her lust-dazed expression clearing, filling with further alarm at the look on his.

  “We have company,” he grated, trying not to sound like he wanted to rip someone’s head off. “Another vampire and servant. Get dressed, Nina. Meet me outside. Follow my lead exactly.”

  As he shrugged into his shirt, he locked everything else down but what was needed in this moment. Which included giving her a hard look, one that brooked no discussion or disobedience. “Do you understand?”

  She nodded, but still didn’t move.

  “This is like a casualty event. Move your arse.”

  That she understood. She scrambled for the edge of the bed, a distracting picture. It only made him more irritable. And not all of the frustration was lust, though that had been powerful as a summer sun and as unrelenting. Even now, his cock was still throbbing.

  One brief respite from the world, to help her feel better about things. To give him a few moments where he didn’t have to think about being a Region Master. But that had apparently been too much to ask.

  He used vampire speed to put himself together in a matter of seconds, raking his hands through his hair, belting his slacks, tucking in the shirt. As he left the room, he stopped at the wet bar, poured a drink and tossed it back, giving himself one more blink to calm himself.

  He was good at shifting roles, even though tonight, given what he’d anticipated doing, it felt a lot like ripping off one set of skin to don another. Still, as he stepped out on the front veranda with a drink in hand, he knew he looked as relaxed as if he’d been sitting out back, gazing out at the water. Vampires could smell recent sex on one another easily enough, and that would only help the façade.

  Lady Anahera was exiting her silver-grey Pontiac Streamliner. Normally the car itself, with all its polished chrome, gleaming whitewall tires and sharp lines, would command attention, but vampires being vampires, Lady Anahera eclipsed it. She did it more than most, being part Maori. The cream and olive skin and dark waving hair added to the curvy, long-legged body. She had a direct, piercing look, despite her thickly lashed, almond-shaped eyes.

  Somewhat of an absurd description, my lord. All human eyes are almond-shaped.

  He imagined Nina saying that in her practical voice, and it helped ease something in his stomach. He’d wanted time alone with her, but he’d known he was taking a risk. Damn it, it would have taken five minutes to make a phone call. He’d just been so intent on getting to Nina.

  The man holding the door for his Mistress always earned a second look, even if he was “only” her servant. Alistair had often wondered if she chose her servant specifically because of how well he complemented her show-stopping looks.

  Tane meant “man” in Maori, among other things. Alistair suspected that amused Anahera, since Tane would be considered the epitome of such by men or women alike. Tall, broad and muscular, with dark long hair he had queued back over his shoulders right now. He wore a custom suit, because nothing off the rack was fitting over those shoulders and falling to the nip of waist and hips correctly.

  Last time Alistair had seen Tane without a shirt, he’d had his whole right arm and half of his chest covered with dark ink. It hadn’t been an actual tattoo, since that wouldn’t take without his Mistress’s blood, and Anahera didn’t want him to bear anything that permanent. She was an artist, and loved to leave what designs she preferred on him, though she returned to that same location and design style time and again. Covering all his heart fore and aft, perhaps a message unto itself.

  “Alistair,” the female vampire said. Her gaze was steady and cool as she approached him. He noted that Tane was watchful, of him and their surroundings. No matter how well vampires knew one another—or perhaps because they did—they anticipated danger from one another. Particularly when they were not where they were supposed to be.

  “Anahera.” He executed a bow that seemed to ease that coolness a degree. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Though he fully knew why, it gave him time to review options in his mind, ways to explain his presence here that would fit an etiquette exception.

  “I am aware this cottage belonged to your former servant, and you have chosen not to sell the property, something I approved. But you are still required to make me aware when you are in my Region, even if you are a Region Master yourself. Formalities must be observed.”

  She was older than he was, and she had combat experience. She’d been around long enough to be part of the Maori’s far more warlike times. A breach of etiquette required a pacifying gesture of the offended party’s choosing. There were certain boundaries within which it had to fall. A first infraction was taken seriously enough that a geographical marker blood sampling was permitted, so that the offended party could be aware if the vampire entered the Region without leave again.

  Unfortunately, he’d committed the first infraction when he’d come to Hal’s cottage to settle his effects, some years ago. Which was how she’d known he was here, he was sure. It required active monitoring, though, so he was surprised she paid attention that closely. But then Anahera had fought to have the New South Wales Region, and it was rumored that the political machinations to keep some of her more ambitious vampires at bay rivaled Machiavellian times.

  A second infraction allowed a much wider scope of possibilities. The use of his body however she wished. If she could take him down. Which was why he was measuring her battle skills.

  “Forgive me, my lord.”

  He’d been caught in his thoughts, so Nina was kneeling at his feet before he could detect her presence. He’d bade her to follow his lead, and she was deliberately disobeying him. She’d obviously picked up on the gist of the conversation and had learned just enough from The Mistress’s teachings to land herself squarely in hot water.

  “It was my oversight, my lord,” she said, her head bowed in apparent shame. “You told me to contact Lady Anahera’s servant and gain approval for our visit here. I was distracted by our other travel preparations and forgot.”

  Anahera’s brow rose. “Was it not for the look of surprise on your face, Lord Alistair, I might have thought you put her up to it. I had heard y
our InhServ has not received the same level of training as is the norm.”

  “Circumstances brought her to me more quickly than anticipated,” Alistair said smoothly, though in his mind there was a chaotic mix of emotions. Oh, Nina. Christ, what was he going to do about this? She’d stepped in it and didn’t even know it.

  “If she cannot remember something as simple as Region and territory protocol, you may want to get your money back, so to speak.”

  But as the band of tension tightened in Alistair’s gut, Anahera tossed a fond look at the vigilant Tane, who’d yet to show a flicker of emotion on his chiseled face. “In truth though,” she mused, “I find the value of a servant to be less about their knowledge of etiquette and more about pleasing me in other ways. Do you agree?”

  “Wholeheartedly.” He shrugged with studied indifference. “While my servant has taken the burden of guilt, you know I’m not overly conscientious of these things.”

  “That’s to be expected. Made vampires don’t have the same respect for tradition, and are often influenced by the more undisciplined human world.”

  Alistair met her gaze. Yeah, she was pissed, for a couple different reasons. He should have been far more cautious. How difficult would it have been to make a fucking phone call? He could have had Nero do it, so Alistair calling personally wouldn’t have elicited curiosity. But most of the time, such things took several days to approve, an exercise in respect toward the approving vampire. He hadn’t had that kind of time. With two marks on her, and an InhServ tattoo on her wrist to boot, if Nina had caught the attention of any of the vampires in the New South Wales Region, with him not anywhere nearby to represent why she was there…

  He also hadn’t thought about the general climate toward him right now. Luigi and Lady Bertrice were ambivalent toward him, even apathetic, but Ruskin, Anahera, and Catalina were likely nursing some serious irritation about a made vampire being handed the Region with the second highest number of vampires in it, no matter how politically unimportant the European lot viewed it.

  Anahera had, to Alistair’s way of thinking, been on the fence about him. She had the most vampire-populated Region in Australia, most of them in Sydney—another reason he’d been determined to get to Nina before she arrived there—and was the most senior of all the Region Masters in Australia. Unlike Ruskin, who considered Australia a place of exile until he could maneuver himself to a “real” Region post in Europe, Anahera had been raised in New South Wales by a vampire father who was one of the earliest European arrivals, and a human Maori servant mother.

  Their last meeting hadn’t gone badly, even with the geographical marker issue, and it had seemed she believed his intent not to give offense had been sincere. But him doing it twice would suggest that, having been given an InhServ, he thought he was now important enough to be carelessly discourteous.

  Nina had patched it, somewhat, but vampires had a tendency not to let something go that easily. Especially if they detected even a whiff that their power and strength was being questioned.

  Alistair had a good bit of that himself, and he wasn’t going to be pushed around. This could get very ugly, very fast, if he didn’t handle it correctly. He just wasn’t sure if Nina could handle what was about to happen. That worried him most of all. A worry he couldn’t show. Because he couldn’t cater to it. Not visibly.

  Placing a hand on Tane’s chest, Anahera used him as a prop as she lifted her foot, slid off a high heel, and tapped it lightly against him to dislodge a bit of gravel that had gotten into it from the drive. Tane put his hand to her waist to steady her as she put it back on and faced Alistair again.

  “You’ve advanced far more quickly than most,” she continued. “Which is why I expect you’ve managed to secure the Queensland Region Master post, despite the displeasure of other born vampires who felt it should be theirs.”

  “Like you, my lady?” Alistair arched a brow, injecting a teasing note in his voice. Trying to keep it charming. “Are you seeking to expand, like Napoleon?”

  She laughed outright and swept her hair back off one shoulder with that natural sensuality that all extraordinarily beautiful women seemed to possess. “While power is always appealing to a vampire’s primal nature,” she said, “I have the good sense to enjoy the pleasures of controlling my own corner of the world and not borrow more trouble. We all know Queensland is the dumping ground for misfits and weaklings. You have my pity, Lord Alistair. I have no ambition for a Region you’d probably happily turn over to me if something better was offered to you. Which, given the way Lady Lyssa is ensuring your star is rising, is probably sometime in your near future. I can clean house then, and fight Ruskin for the pleasure of managing it.”

  That was a fight he’d be interested in seeing, though it worried him some on Anahera’s behalf. Ruskin was a duplicitous sort, and bloody strong. Alistair threaded his fingers through Nina’s hair, pinching her nape lightly as she knelt at his feet, her head down.

  “Lady Anahera, I think you would be surprised at the strengths and talents of those who are deemed marginal to our society,” he said. It was time to turn conversation to a relaxed downriver flow, taking them away from the troublesome areas, instead of a creating a whirlpool that kept them right in the middle of them. “But our politics are always a bore. May I invite you in for tea? Since this is technically your property,” he showed his teeth in a smile, “no invitation is necessary, but you are truly welcome here. My servant can serve us.”

  “Yes, she certainly can.” Anahera turned her gaze to Nina. Though to outward appearances his servant was motionless as a statue, her training sufficient enough to maintain an InhServ’s stillness, Alistair could feel the threads of tension running through Nina, quivering beneath the exterior.

  Hold steady, sweet nurse.

  He managed to make it reassuring, though in truth he wanted to shake her. Most of the time, she chucked her InhServ responsibilities and training to the wind, and the one time he needed her to do so, she stepped right up to…

  Try to fix things. Protect him. Anahera’s words had told her that Alistair was here illegally. His nurse would shoulder that responsibility, since he’d come to find her. Though he could also imagine her thinking if he’d just let her go, there’d have been no problem at all.

  “Since she is due a punishment,” Anahera noted, “I say we share tea while it is administered. As it is my territory, it is my right to determine what that punishment will be. Punishing an InhServ is so stimulating, and it’s rare any of us get the opportunity, since they are usually assigned to the most powerful of us.”

  She laced the veiled insult with a laugh as distracting as silk sliding along skin. “Their endurance is legendary. But since she is barely trained, she is more like a fledgling servant. Initiating one of them has its own pleasures. I always enjoy a display of a servant’s loyalty under duress.”

  He didn’t want Nina to suffer a punishment. Yes, he enjoyed punishing her, but he knew how to do it, to give her pleasure. She felt safe with him. But if he offered to accept the punishment for his unsanctioned appearance in a territory to spare his servant, that had far worse repercussions. A vampire couldn’t protect the servant in any way that was construed as caring more for the servant than was appropriate.

  In short, a male vampire’s chivalrous instincts could make things far worse. Plus, a well-trained InhServ genuinely embraced anything her Master or Mistress demanded. Wholeheartedly, with enthusiasm.

  Fuck, why hadn’t he taken her home last night?

  Because he’d wanted to give her this. Because he’d wanted it, too. A night to be what they’d been behind that hospital. It was beyond bollocks that, amid all that death and suffering, he’d returned to that moment again and again, as a sanctuary from everything. Just being with her, just the two of them.

  It was still just the two of them, he realized, with a sharp jolt of understanding. He just had to help her understand that, too.

  As if he needed another imperious, sharp-
tongued female voice in his head, he recalled that perplexing statement in The Mistress’s letter. Her success as an InhServ will be directly proportionate to your ability to be her Master. There are many different types of strength.

  Now he got it. The crux of the message? The same thing he’d made clear on the beach to Nina, that would get her through anything, if he made it clear to her on every level.

  He was her Master.

  Anahera had fixed Alistair with a steady, waiting gaze. Her dark eyes glittered, her full mouth in a soft pout. She really was quite stunning, even for a vampire. Which didn’t cause him an ounce of wishful distraction right now.

  He touched Nina’s shoulder. “Nina, prepare tea for Lady Anahera and myself. Quickly.”

  “She will not need her dress for that. Is she wearing something pretty beneath it? I recall you have a penchant for lovely lingerie.”

  Wordlessly, Alistair brought Nina to her feet with a hand under her elbow, but then he released her, nodded to her with a brusque look. “Remove the dress.”

  Nina couldn’t pick up all the details of what was happening, but the tension between the two vampires felt dangerous, no matter that Alistair’s expression remained unconcerned. Drawing on the InhServ training which was feeling far too sparse to handle whatever this was, she didn’t hesitate. Almost as soon as he gave the order, she removed the dress. She had put the underwear back on beneath it, so her breasts sat up high, barely cradled in lace, and the satiny knickers were so low her hipbones showed in front and the dimples on either side of the crease between her buttocks in back.

  Alistair took the dress from her. “Go prepare tea.”

  She pivoted and hurried inside, trying to make it look like she hurried because of the command, not because she felt exposed in front of the other three fully dressed members of this party. Tane’s blue-grey eyes, deep set and intense, had coursed over her from head to toe. If he’d licked his lips, he would have looked like an extraordinarily large dingo preparing for the hunt. And kill.