Vampire's Embrace: A Vampire Queen Series Novel

by Joey W. Hill

  And when he was mired in business:

  You sound frustrated, my lord. Are they not being overwhelmed by your charm?

  Like my impertinent servant, they are far too clever for that. I may have to resort to threats. Though they don’t seem to work well on her, either.

  Maybe you should simply appeal to their self-interest and tell them the sooner they agree with you, the sooner you can go home and they can be rid of you.

  And so it went. Yet while he gave her some details of what he was doing, it was always high level things. Not the things an InhServ was supposed to know and handle. When she’d ask him more serious questions, he would always circle around those areas. Surely, he could see her willingness to help in her mind. He hadn’t made a decision on the hospital yet, and she was trying not to push him on that. They had a fragile truce, and she was loath to disrupt it. But she was getting frustrated.

  After Anahera and Tane had taken their leave from the cottage, it had been close to dawn. Alistair had taken her to bed, taken her again, thoroughly. When dawn came, and he went to the cellar his former servant had outfitted, she went with him, and he hadn’t denied her. She’d remained belowground, held in his arms, and thought about the sun rising above. While it would be there when she finally did get up, this moment might not be there for her again. She curled her arms around his forearm, pressed her cheek to it and had succumbed to sleep as well.

  She’d liked sleeping with him. On the first night he went away, she went downstairs and stood in the doorway between their rooms, looking toward his made bed, inhaling his scent.

  She thought she’d sleep in her small room down here tonight, since her bedroom upstairs seemed too empty, even though she had begun putting a few things in it that belonged to her. Rocks found on her daily walks. An arrangement of flowers. A book or two borrowed from Alistair’s library.

  After a while, she ventured into the room, going to his bed. Furtively, as if someone might tell her off for it, she plucked the covers away from where they were neatly tucked over the pillow and slid herself in, disrupting the linens as little as possible. But once in their cocoon, where she imagined him sleeping, she curled there, and thought of him, her hand smoothing over the pillow.

  I don’t think you have permission to be there.

  She smiled, for his tone was reproving, but in a teasing way.

  Then perhaps you should be here to scold me.

  Had she really just suggested that? She hid her reddened cheeks in the pillows as his sensual chuckle filled her mind.

  I’ll keep it in mind.

  Then that link went silent again. However, she lay there for a while longer, and thought more about the past few days. The fine lines Alistair himself was walking.

  She thought of what The Mistress had hinted, the pieces of information she’d collected, however unconsciously, from his actions with Stanley. The lines of protocol he’d broken to come retrieve her. The give and take between him and Anahera. The few times all the control and self-discipline had slipped and she’d seen that despondency at his core. She’d felt it when he’d held her, lost himself in her. He opened up, let light into that dark room. But when it was over, she thought the darkness remained, shut up again.

  He held a lot of power, but there were strings attached, and minefields to navigate. Why wouldn’t he let her help? She wasn’t sure, but intended to talk to him about it when he returned.

  He came home on the third night. He summoned her from the enclosed tower portion of the widow’s walk, where she was reading a book by lamplight.

  I’m home. Come to me in my office, sweet nurse.

  She wasn’t ashamed to say she ran a great deal of the way, though she hoped he wasn’t tuning into her mind to see her girlish foolishness. She took time when she reached the hallway to smooth her hair, get her breath, but when she rounded the corner and found Mrs. W dusting the front foyer, the woman gave her a knowing smile.

  “Not the only one happy to find him home, I see.”

  Nina coughed self-consciously, but nodded, ducking into the study. As she slipped in, she found he was working at his desk, a phone tucked under his ear as he flipped through some paperwork, scribbled on one page. He had his other hand tented on a competing stack of papers, his forefinger tapping in a way that suggested some tension.

  “You may feel as you wish about that, Donovan,” he said. “As long as you are here for the quarterly meeting. Then you can say to my face what you’re willing to say to others. I won’t play games with you. Do me the same courtesy. A real man accepts the consequences of his actions.”

  Alistair paused for the response. His jaw hardened, his eyes becoming flint. The wave of the energy coming off him suggested Donovan was close to reaching the end of his Region Master’s patience. She also suspected Donovan didn’t know how dangerous that could be. Perhaps if he saw Alistair’s face right now, he would.

  She’d seen him look frightening and intimidating before. But there was an underlying weariness to his expression that also made her think of Matron Wilma, who’d dealt with much of the Sydney hospital politics when Nina was training there. In a rare frustrated moment, the Matron had declared she was chucking negotiation in favor of a blunt instrument. So she could beat stupidity into submission indiscriminately.

  She’d been a clever, strong woman who appreciated others like her.

  “You are water, Sister Nina.” Wilma had told her that once, when she cornered Nina in the hallway. Thinking she’d done something to be compared to some appalling quality that water possessed, Nina had braced herself for a tongue-lashing.

  “You adapt and change for the obstacles in your path,” the Matron said. “You use your agile mind to determine whether they need to be worn down, eased around without disturbing them, or pummeled until they give up their ground. Your judgment of which is necessary is excellent. You bend the rules too often, but often to good purpose.”

  The older woman nodded, a crisp movement. “You have brilliant instincts. Keep following them, but try not to make too much trouble for those of us who have to follow them. Unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  With a tight smile, she’d continued down the hallway, her dress creasing demurely over her compact yet generous hips.

  Thinking of that moment, and how it had filled her with unreasonable exhilaration, Nina straightened her shoulders and lifted her head. As she watched Alistair, his profile, the crisp lines of his white shirt, the flexing of his long-fingered hand, she went with her instincts.

  She crossed the carpet and went around his desk. He’d turned now and had his polished shoe propped on the bottom bracing piece of the window table behind him, his other flat on the floor. His elbow was on the chair arm as he held the phone. He must sometimes get up and move around while talking on the phone, because the cord was long, spiraling down over his thigh.

  She knelt at his feet, bowed her head. Laid her hand over the top of his shoe, Just a light touch, but she couldn’t resist moving upward, stroking his ankle through his thin dress sock. At a light thump against her cheek, her shoulder, she lifted her head to see he’d wrapped a length of the curled cord around his knuckles and was swinging it lightly against her, a rebuke, but not a serious one. There was a slightly easier light in his eyes.

  He lifted his free hand, making the flapping sign of someone talking way too much. Apparently Donovan on the other side. Then he crossed his eyes, a comical face. It startled a smile out of her, and she ducked her head, not sure why, but not wanting to seem too forward. She wouldn’t have thought twice about it when they first met, but things were different now.

  She felt a wave of something not at all unpleasant from him at the unconsciously submissive gesture. His hand touched her face instead of the cord. Stroking along her jaw, lifting her face. He kept his eyes upon it as he concluded the call brusquely.

  “Donovan, you spend so much time thinking you are not Region Master because of some undeserved political advantage I have over you.
You’re missing the flaws in your character that actually explain the reason. Flaws you are more than capable of correcting. Try conducting yourself in a manner deserving of the post, rather than merely asserting that you are. We’ll settle it at our meeting. Don’t make me come find you.”

  He set the phone in the cradle, she suspected less violently than he wanted. Taking a breath and lifting both hands, he scrubbed them over his face before staring down at her. “Sometimes I don’t see any reason not to stake the whole lot.”

  “It might be difficult to be a Region Master in a Region with no vampires in it,” she pointed out.

  “On the contrary. It would be far easier. You look very pretty today. I like the ribbons in your hair.”

  As she warmed at the compliment, he turned his attention to the paperwork, frowning, but then set it aside, cleared his throat. “You may work at the hospital, Nina. It’s why I called you here this evening. To inform you of the terms of that.”

  To have what had been niggling in the back of her mind offered in such a straightforward manner startled her. “What?”

  “You heard me.” He rose, reaching down to lift her to her feet. His hands upon her after three days of not being touched by him at all made her wish that she had the right to put her arms around him, ask to be held. That he would want to hold her without her asking. But he was suddenly acting so formal, she held her tongue.

  At least he kept her hand as he guided her to stand before the desk. He positioned himself between it and her, propping his hips against it and stretching out his legs on either side of her.

  “You may start tomorrow,” he said. “There are several rules. If you break them, I will withdraw the permission. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, my lord.” Her mind was whirling. He was really going to allow her to work as a nurse. The Mistress and other InhServ novices had insisted he could never allow that, that no InhServ could have an occupation beyond serving her vampire.

  “Well, I’m not exactly the usual kind of vampire an InhServ serves, and you’re not exactly the usual kind of InhServ. Right?”

  She nodded, uncertain at his tone, which wasn’t condemning, but still had that distancing politeness to it.

  “One: You’re home before dark, Nina. No exceptions, and no leniency. The first time you’re late, you will not be allowed to return to the hospital for a month. If you do it more than once, I will extend that time by an additional month, each time. Make it clear to those you work for, that it is an inviolate stipulation of your assistance.”

  She frowned. “But if they’re paying me, and patient care extends beyond…”

  “They will not be paying you.” His expression hardened. “I care for you, Nina. Your services will be all volunteer. That will increase their support of your time restriction.”

  She couldn’t argue with that, but being paid…it was a sign of independence, of accomplishment.

  “You are very accomplished, Nina, and they will value your services highly, if they have any sense at all. I am responsible for your care and support,” he repeated. “That’s the end of it.”

  She would have expected that attitude from a husband. If she’d married and continued to be a nurse, she fully expected he’d have treated her income as supplemental, not vital, to meet his perceived responsibility as head provider. She’d been raised in an upper middle-class family. Not wealthy, but definitely well-off. While there were families where both adults had to work to take care of children and the home, that was what poor people had to do. Alistair’s home, his wealth, made it clear he would not tolerate any other interpretation.

  Men.

  She suppressed a sigh, but nodded. Though he continued without comment upon her less than gracious thought, his warning glance told her not to push it.

  “Two: Nero or another trusted member of the staff, one who knows what I am, will pick you up and drop you off.”

  She thought of the day Nero had retrieved her from the hospital after the construction accident. How alert and attentive he’d been to their surroundings. Nero, Mr. Coleman and JD, the landscaper, the three men who knew Alistair’s true nature, all looked like they could handle themselves more than capably in a fight. He was ensuring her protection, she realized, and wondered what threat Alistair anticipated toward her specifically.

  “Three. You will be available at midnight each night for my meal and to meet any other needs I have.”

  His attention lingered on her, and her body heated at the implication of what those needs would be, even as her heart tilted uncertainly at his continued formal tone. “And fourth, you will complete any tasks I give you within the time limits I prescribe. I’ll let you know when I have any for you.”

  Before she could respond, or act on that lingering look, he’d straightened and moved back around his desk. “That’s all. You’re welcome to start at the hospital tomorrow. I don’t have further need of you tonight.”

  “Oh.” The spear of disappointment held her in place an extra moment, as well as the follow up dose of confusion. He’d just given her what she wanted. So why did she feel…out of sorts?

  “Um…can I help you with any of your work?” she ventured. “So maybe you could get done early and we could walk along the beach? Or whatever you do when you’re not working?”

  “I’ll likely call Stan and get together for a drink with him later, if I wade through this.” As he sat back down with his paperwork and picked up a pencil, he didn’t look up. “You’re going to have a big day tomorrow. It’s probably a good idea for you to get some sleep.”

  “Thank you. That’s kind.” Though that really wasn’t what she was thinking. She was getting a little irritated, but she also knew the irritation was a defensive reflex, to cover the hurt. She thought of the cottage, the lingerie, how he’d intertwined with her mind to help with Anahera. Now, it was as if he was as distant as one person could be from another, and still be in the same room.

  “Ah, would you like me to keep sleeping in the room next to you?” He might want her to sleep with him, or feed him. She was willing to be close, was willing to offer him that, freely.

  Maybe even eagerly.

  “No, you sleeping upstairs is more optimal. For your schedule as well as mine. Thank you for asking. I’ll let you know if that changes.”

  She shouldn’t have asked. Should have just kept doing it. But she was trying to confirm…what? She nodded, headed for the door, then came to a stop. “Have I done something to offend you, my lord?” She was proud her voice stayed calm, though it was getting a little higher and thinner. An ache was in her throat.

  He glanced at her, gave her a practiced, warm smile she hated. “No, Nina. Not at all. Just busy right now. I’ll see you at midnight tomorrow.” The smile disappeared, and she saw something hungry in his eyes before he looked down again, but his words stroked up her spine, making her even more confused.

  “Don’t be late.”

  As she closed the door behind her, Alistair broke the pencil he’d been holding in his hand. “God damn it,” he swore softly, and pushed up from the desk.

  Have her sleep in the room near him? He certainly would like that. He’d like even more to have her in the same bed, not just to enjoy her body and responsiveness, but to curl his body around hers, shelter and hold it, feel the whisper of her hands along his skin, hear her soft sighs as she slept.

  But he needed to keep it compartmentalized like this. For several reasons. As long as she held onto the thoughts that he could become her “rescuer,” freeing her from this life, encouraging too much unregimented intimacy between them wouldn’t help her.

  Neither would letting her work at the hospital, but he’d done that. Even knowing it was unprecedented for an InhServ to have a job beyond being an InhServ. But after seeing the Nina he’d remembered come to full, vibrant life at the accident scene, he’d wanted that picture in his mind again, not three years in the past, but in the present as well. Bugger it.

  He would figure it out. Bu
t maybe it was time to get a perspective from someone else.

  Through the three hundred years since she’d sired him, Lady Lyssa had been someone he could count upon for good advice and direction. Even when it was provided with a tongue so sharp that it made sticking a bayonet up his arse and twisting sound like a jolly good time in comparison.

  Like now.

  He might have to do it as a telephone call, but if she was within range, he preferred the privacy of the mind-to-mind communication that her being his sire allowed him.

  My lady? Are you available to speak?

  He waited for a few minutes, rocking on the axis of his chair, clearing his mind, willing himself to relax further. Vampires didn’t trust one another readily, even when the blood exchange was willing. Therefore relaxing, making sure one’s shields were at ease, so to speak, made the process easier. And he damn well made sure his mind call to Lady Lyssa was akin to a light knock on her front door, not a pounding or an attempt to wrench it open.

  To communicate with a human servant was straightforward, but vampires were guarded with one another. Except for a sire, they avoided exchanges of blood that would give another vampire even the most cursory access to their mind. Vampires in a territory were required to give the overlord enough blood they could be tracked and their emotional state be ascertained at a distance, in case they were in distress. But it wasn’t enough for full mind reading and probing to deeper levels. Unless they committed an infraction that necessitated it, and then, when forced, it could be a nasty business, making physical rape seem like a walk down lover’s lane hand in hand with one’s attacker.

  This was definitely not that. He even felt some relief and undeniable reassurance at her touch, silken tendrils unfurling inside his mind. It tickled a little, but it showed her power and experience, that it wasn’t the least bit uncomfortable to him.