It was the last book that gave her the most information, the one she’d almost not opened because it was modern, and the pages machine bound. There was no author, no copyright page, nothing to identify who had owned it. All it contained were sketches of sites, maybe Egypt, she wasn’t sure. The next to the last page caught her eye. There in bold letters, created by a pen tracing over and over again the same curves, was the word amatorius. Latin for love, or lovers, she wasn’t sure which. Underneath was the same symbol.
Does this mean love? Lily absently rubbed the locket, feeling the etched design against her thumb as she turned the page and found the woman again. She’d seen this multiple times before, a woman, her skin porcelain white, her hair, also white, long and framing her face as she lay under a moonlit sky. But this time a man knelt beside her, a vampire, the tips of his fangs clearly visible along his lower lip. Below in very neat script was written the caption: Lynea Takes a Lover.
“Lynea.” The word made her smile. It had a musical quality to it, and she repeated it several times.
“Does the moon symbol mean Lynea?” she asked the archives, but was met with only silence.
Before she could press them further the doors opened enough for Liam to walk inside. “Miss,” he said. “It’s good to have you back.”
“I missed you.” She closed the books and stacked them neatly on the table. “I spoke with Jo.”
“Oh.” He avoided her eyes. “I meant to tell you about that.”
“I think you might be the best thing that could happen to her.” At first, she’d been worried about Liam dating Jo. But for every argument she had against the match, she always had a counterargument that far outweighed his being a vantor. Hadn’t Liam always been kind, and generous, and protective to Lily? Had he ever been anything but loyal? Was he a good man, a decent man, who cared for his pack and did what he could for those around him? Did Lily have any doubt that he would care for Jo equally well, if not better, since it was clear as day that he loved her?
“Really?” he asked. “I haven’t told her about… what I am.”
“Don’t wait too long. I want to invite Martha and Jo here. I need them to know about the Others, vampires, you, me, everything.”
“It’s not easy.” He opened the door. “Knowing what to say. How to explain it.”
She nodded with understanding.
“The king wants to see you now. I’m to take you to his chambers.”
“I don’t need an escort.” She nudged him playfully. “Don’t you have a date?”
“I do, Miss, but my orders are to see you to the king’s chambers.”
There was no use trying to dissuade Liam. She followed along, absently putting on the necklace and rubbing the pendant between her fingers. To keep from focusing on how much she wanted to see Krieger, she thought about her recent discovery. The necklace must have belonged to the woman who looked exactly like her, the mother of the boy. The image she’d seen in the archives had nagged at her. Why would anyone entomb them inside a cage of iron? Was her name Lynea? Was the name a type of Other?
“I’ll leave you now.” Liam bowed.
“I’ve known Jo most my life. You don’t have to be afraid…to tell her what you are. She’ll probably think it’s really cool.”
His forehead creased. “I hope so.”
She hesitated, not wanting to go in, and desperately wanting to, all at the same time.
“Come,” Krieger’s voice traveled through the doors.
A royal guard reached over and pushed the door open enough for her to slip into the room. Three tentative steps inside, she heard the latch softly click into place when he closed it behind her and felt weak for wishing Liam had escorted her in. This was her first visit to Krieger’s private chambers. She’d been to his underground quarters with the vault sized door, but not up here on the private level, where her own suite of rooms waited for her on the opposite side of Stoke Castle. His rooms were decorated with objects from various time periods. A small statue on the side table, Roman, she thought. Candle holders and oil lamps next to electric lamps. A collection of swords hung in orderly rows on the far wall. Bookshelves and rich wood paneling lined the walls and deep, plush carpets cushioned her feet, and, of course, a blaze burned in the fireplace.
“I thought it was time you stopped avoiding me.”
Lily inhaled and straightened her shoulders, following the sound of his voice past the fireplace and the massive bed to the back of the room, where a hallway took her to a large office. The space was dominated by a wooden desk which Krieger leaned against.
“I haven’t been avoiding you.” She reached for the locket, warm from lying between her breasts. “You’ve been gone.”
Krieger’s eyes drifted down the length of the pendant’s chain.
Curious for his reaction, she turned it outward so he could see the marks upon it. “A souvenir from our visit with Dr. Toolley,” she explained.
He turned his back to her and stared out the floor to ceiling windows along the back wall. It was early morning outside, the sun skimming along the ridgeline of the trees.
“The detective filled me in on your little expedition.”
She waited, thinking he’d say more, but he did not; instead he turned without looking at her and pointed towards the desk. “I have a communique from King Beline. Eva gave birth to a boy.”
“Is she alright?” Lily’s mother had died giving birth to her. She pushed the thought aside and went to the desk. The announcement was easy to spy on top of a pile of papers.
“Yes.”
“Is he—”
“Human?” Krieger replied. “No, an Other.”
The announcement was formal and not like the pastel colored, stork laden birth announcements she was used to. Embossed across the top was Beline’s crest of two stags with horns locked in battle. Would they have a shower? Probably not. Quickly she skimmed through and read his name. “Marcus. Should we send a gift?”
“If you’d like.”
“Has this happened before? I mean a vampire and a woman.” Lily knew what she meant but not exactly how to say it.
“What has happened before does not hold the sway it once did in the new world we find ourselves.”
She worried her lip between her teeth, thinking on his words. “Martha always says there is a lid for every pot, but...”
“I agree, the two seem an irregular match.”
Why was his back still turned to her? “He won’t, you know, drink from the baby, will he?”
His shoulders slumped. “He’s not a monster.” Finally, he turned. “I’d like to speak of Nina—”
“Did she wake up?”
“She has not.”
Had something happened to her? “She’s not…”
“She’s as before, alive and sleeping.” His gaze went from her eyes to the pendant and back again. “You two were friends.”
“Are friends.”
“You communicated with her.”
“As best we could,” she answered. Nina’s tongue had been savagely cut from her mouth by the Brotherhood.
“Did she seem curious about the archives? Or any other texts?”
“What? What does that have to do with Merlin putting her to sleep?” She moved into his personal space. “Or choking Cherie, or doing whatever he did to Glenda?”
He stepped away from her. “Merlin is paying the price for his sins, whether he deserves it or not. Cherie is fine and Glenda has been released from the spell. Now answer my question.”
“You know I’m not a child to—”
“Enough!” He grabbed her by the arms and lightly shook her. “Just answer my question.”
She didn’t fear that he’d hurt her, but the intensity in his blue-gray eyes froze her to the bone. “Nina isn’t allowed in the archives,” she mumbled. “She was always reading, but I didn’t pay attention to what.” She wiggled out of his hold and thought back. “The Ancient liked to tell us stories.”
His eyes
drifted down to study the pendant. “More pieces to the puzzle.”
“You’re keeping things from me.”
He raked his hand over his close-cropped hair. “Two iron cages have been discovered. One with the bones of a woman and child. Another with a vampire that could be Azazel or more likely something completely different. King Carlos is dead and now I–” he placed his hand on his chest– “am the king of two continents. My closest advisor almost lost his mind.” He tilted his palms to the heavens. “Did I miss anything?”
She hadn’t thought about how much responsibility rested on his shoulders. “Will you travel to South America soon?”
“Not for many weeks. Now, if I remember correctly we have unfinished business to attend to.”
His voice was deeper, his meaning clear. An ache spread throughout her lower belly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do.” He extended his fangs. “Your exact words were, ‘Take me, make me burn.’”
Her face flushed with heat and she took one step back, then two. “I wasn’t myself.” He’ll chase me down if I run.
Krieger tilted his head and inspected the pendant. One-handed he unbuttoned the first three buttons of his oxford shirt. “I think you were more yourself than you want to admit. Why do you wear the pendant?”
“Do you know what it means?” She backed into the side of his desk.
Instead of answering he walked into the bedroom. She could hear him using the poker to stir the fire and then the sound of logs being added. Feeling silly standing alone in the room, she tiptoed in to see him placing large pillows on the floor. “Here,” he held out a wine glass for her.
“I’m not thirsty.”
“Drink.” He took her hand and put the glass in it.
He sat on the floor with his back resting against the sofa and patted the pillow next to him. “Sit with me.”
She could be as stubborn as he. “Answer me.”
Krieger leaned back his head and admired the coffered ceiling. She remembered kissing his neck, his mouth, and itched to run her hands over his chest. Instead she gulped down the wine. “You laced it with your blood.” A great deal of his blood.
His demeanor was unrepentant. “You’ll need it.” His meaning was clear.
Irritating as his behavior was, she was grateful for the distraction it gave her since the sensation of his blood moving through her system was intoxicating. She placed the empty glass on the table and allowed herself a second to luxuriate in the warmth extending out to the far reaches of her limbs. Don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing what his blood does to you. “Tell me what the sign means.”
“It’s the sign of the Lynea.” His words froze her in place. “I told you about the fabled women who fed the warrior vampires.”
Yes, he had the night they’d argued, before they’d discovered her mother’s body. “You never said their name, that they had a symbol.”
“That is true.”
Arrogant, insufferable, domineering…why had he not told her the whole truth? Why was he always keeping pieces of information from her? All this time she could have been studying the Lynea. “You could have told me.”
Still lounging on the floor with his back against the sofa, he leisurely turned his head to her. “And what have you not told me about your time in London?”
It had been a mistake, throwing herself at Lucien. Or maybe he was talking about the hotel room when she’d levitated, again. Her hands rolled into fists. The words “I kissed Lucien” spilled out.
His jaw muscles clenched, but the rest of him remained so completely still that she thought he’d turned to stone. Finally, thankfully, he spoke. “I know. What I don’t know is why.”
“Why? Why do you think? To see what it felt like. I’ve kissed only you. I wanted to experiment.” Her conscience stung a bit at not telling Krieger the whole truth. Since she’d met Lucien, Lily had felt an affinity for him. She’d needed to figure out if it was sexual or something else. Now she knew it was the latter. “So did you decide which one of you should drag me off by the hair? Or maybe vampires don’t do that. How stupid of me – that’s cavemen, isn’t it? Will there be a duel? Straws drawn?”
“His kiss, what did it feel like?”
She hadn’t expected him to ask, she’d expected him to fly into a rage, for them to argue and then she could escape his room and the feelings she had for him. Is that what she truly wanted? “Not like when you kiss me.”
“Do you love him?” It was said very matter-of-factly, without emotion.
Her anger evaporated as suddenly as it rose, replaced by frustration. “There’s something I feel with Lucien. I can’t explain it.” In for a pound, she thought. “You’re so intense, so overwhelming. What I feel for you frightens me. Does that make sense?”
“It does.” He inhaled an unneeded breath. “Lucien wanted me to relay his goodbyes. He’s attending to some matters for me.” Lily started to ask where he’d gone, but Krieger spoke over her. “Sit.” He waited, she hesitated. “Sit,” he said in a more forceful tone. She sat on the sofa instead of the floor. If it annoyed him, she couldn’t tell. “He chose to go. I did not order him.”
She believed him.
“It’s time.”
Time, time for what she almost snapped back at him. Her confusion and frustration must have been clearly readable to him.
Between blinks he’d moved and was now sitting next to her and holding the pendant in his hand. “There are things about Lucien…he must be the one to tell you. But if you love him, I will not stand in the way. I will arrange a plane to take you to him now. If that is what you wish.”
“How dare you!” She slapped his face, hating that it literally hurt her more than him.
He went motionless again. Only his blue-grey eyes moved as he searched her face. “Liam and the vantors will travel with you. Lucien is a good man. He will keep you safe.”
No, no, no. He thinks I don’t love him. No. “I’m afraid.”
The fabric of his shirt rippled as his shoulder muscles tensed. “Yes, you have said that before. Haven’t I promised to never hurt you? Does my word mean nothing to you?”
“You’ve had thousands of women. You’ll get bored with me. It’s just because of this blood bond, that’s the only reason…”
He took her hands in his. “No.” He kissed the palm of each hand. “It’s not just the blood we share.” He placed her hand on his face. “You bewitched me the moment I saw you.” He pulled her towards him to gently kiss her lips. “You were so shy that first night I met you, trailing behind Walter, hiding behind him, like you thought I couldn’t see you. My heart was lost to you then, before you ever spoke or we shared a drop of blood between us.”
“What if it doesn’t work, or…”
“Do you love me?” he asked.
“Yes, but…” She did love him, had always loved him.
He kissed her, soft at first and then harder, claiming her mouth with his. She found herself clutching at his shirt when he pulled away. “I love you,” he whispered into her ear, kissing down her neck until his fangs slipped into the mark that lay on her neck. The slight pain it caused made her sigh with pleasure.
The feel of his lips against her skin, the blood moving between them, totally undid the tight hold she had over her emotions. In one easy movement, he lifted and carried her to the bed and placed her between the sheets. He tore the fabric of her dress between his hands. His eyes blazed as he released her bra, sliding his fingers underneath the cups until her breasts were free.
“You kept me waiting too long.” His lips pleased her nipple.
She arched her back as he lavished each; instinctively her fingernails clawed along his shoulders.
“Don’t.” He swiftly imprisoned her wrists above her head with one hand and the other trailed down to tease the flesh underneath the waistband of her underclothes. “Drawing blood will push me over the edge of my control. Is that what you want?”
&
nbsp; Yes… No… I don’t know.
His hand slid underneath the lace, coming to rest where she ached for him the most. “You’re going to beg.” She bucked against him, but he held her tight. “Yes, my Apryini, tonight you’ll pay for your sin of making me wait so long for you.”
“Ahhh,” she breathed out, feeling his fingers roll over the sensitive area.
“So wet.” He brought his fingers to his mouth. “So sweet.”
A flood of lust and desire and longing and abandonment washed over her. “Don’t stop.” Her voice sounded hoarse.
His hand released her wrists as he glided down her body placing kisses along the way until he slid between her legs and ripped away the last bit of her clothing and tossed it to the side. “I want to hear you scream.”
She’d never felt anything as divine as his lips upon her, building her towards a peak. Right at the top with her breathing ragged, her heartbeat echoing in her ears and her legs quivering, he paused and lifted up. “No, no, no.” She grabbed at his forearms. “Don’t stop.”
“Look at me.”
Yes, I’ll do anything just don’t stop. Her heart constricted as she did. Krieger’s eyes were wild. She watched, transfixed by his tongue sliding over lips glazed with her moisture and as he blew a cool puff of air over the one spot on her body she wanted him to touch the most.
“God,” she screamed. “I’ll die if you stop.”
“Who do you love?” he demanded.
“You!”
He toyed with her, lazily circling his finger over where his mouth had been.
“Who do you want?”
“You, please Krieger, please. I’m begging you don’t stop.”
“Good girl.” His tongue, his mouth, was again building the tension.
I’ll die if this continues. I’ll die if it doesn’t. “Oh god, yes, yes!” She screamed and grasped at the sheets and moved her hips against him, not caring about anything but the explosion ripping through her body.
The Last Guardian Rises (The Last Keeper's Daughter) Page 18