by Eve Newton
I smile in relief. “No, not at all,” I say as I lean over and kiss him. He responds to my kiss but doesn’t deepen it, so I pull away as he obviously isn’t ready yet.
“I like being here while you sleep,” he says. “I feel like I am watching over you, keeping you safe.”
“I feel safe when I am with you.”
He smiles in pleasure. “Want to tell me about your dream?”
“No, it’s already forgotten,” I say. “Although, I wonder if I can ask you something?”
He looks at me with dread. “Please, Aefre, no more drama. I don’t want anything to spoil our time together.”
“No drama. Just a question.”
“Tell me about what and I will decide whether to answer you,” he says in the tone he usually reserves for negotiating deals.
I too, however, am a good negotiator and come back with, “I’d rather you say you will answer me first.”
“Now that makes me think that I would rather not answer.”
“Constantine,” I say in my most coaxing tone. “If we are to be together, shouldn’t I be able to ask you anything and have you answer me?”
He narrows his beautiful, almond-shaped eyes at me and puts his pen in his mouth as he thinks over my question. “Yes, I suppose you should. Although, if you are going to ask me a serious question that requires my full attention, you might want to cover up a little bit. Your tits are far too distracting.”
I look down and pull the sheet up with a smile. “Better?” I ask.
“Well no, I would rather be looking at them, but I am guessing this question is regarding an unpleasant topic and therefore a modicum of modesty should be acknowledged. Fire away.”
I take a deep breath to steady myself. This is going to go one of two ways: he will either answer me or he won’t. “Before Lance took me, was he normal?” I ask in a rush, looking him square in the eye, wanting to see his initial reaction.
The pen that had been resting between his teeth drops to the bed as he takes in my question. “I beg your pardon?” he says, raising his eyebrows as he recovers quickly. Too quickly, dammit, I didn’t see anything, exasperating man.
“You heard me. Don’t make me repeat it.”
“Yes, I think I heard you. I certainly heard words, although I don’t think that they belong in the sentence in which you placed them.”
“Just answer me, CK. I want to know if I…”
“If you what?” he pounces on my slip-up. I wasn’t going to ask if it was me that broke him, but as usual I need a muzzle.
“Did I break him?” I ask quietly.
He looks stunned. “Aefre, what makes you ask a thing like that?”
“Something that Rem…err, The Thirteen said to me.”
“Do not believe anything that creature has to say to you. It lies,” he says fiercely, still upset about him taking our intended life and playing with it in my dreams.
“Why would he lie about that? He has all of Lance’s memories and feelings. He told me what happened.”
“When did it tell you?” Emphasis on the “it.”
“When I asked him on Saturday. Before he turned into Fraser, he came as Lance. I asked and he told me.”
“What exactly did it tell you?”
“Stop asking me questions. You are supposed to be answering mine. A simple yes or no will suffice.” I am annoyed that he is quite neatly dodging the question.
“Do you have to know?” he asks quietly. “Is it something that you have to know?”
“Yes,” I say simply.
“Very well.” He clears his throat. “Yes, he was normal.” I close my eyes as I hear his words and he adds, “Well, in as much as he could be.”
“So, it was me. I turned him into a raving lunatic.” I didn’t want to cry but the tears spill silently over, and I brush them away roughly.
He drags me over to him, muttering consolation in Italian to me as he has done so many times in the past. “No, Aefre. Don’t blame yourself. He was already leaning that way.”
“And I pushed him over the edge.” I snuffle into his ridiculously expensive t-shirt, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Tell me,” I say, sitting up. “I want to know what he was like when you met him. You must have seen something in him to turn him. Something good, to love him.”
“I did see something. I saw myself,” he says. “And that, Aefre, is not a good thing.”
“I need more than that.”
He sighs and rubs his hand over his eyes, “Why are you doing this to yourself?”
“Because I am self-destructive. You know that,” I say with a tearful smile.
“All too well,” he mutters. “We met Lance during battle. When Rome defeated the Gaul’s in 350 BC. He was an incredible warrior. His skill and ruthlessness almost matched my own. It made me notice him. I watched him. He fought to the bitter end and should have been taken prisoner to be a slave, but he demanded to be killed, saying he would rather die than be slave to the Romans. He had piqued my interest and I took him instead, offered him everything I could give him, and he accepted. After a while.” He smiles at the memory and I see for the first time that he did really love him, once. I don’t dare breathe, wanting him to continue, needing to know. “I showed him what a life he could lead if he was one of us. I showed him everything he could have, and he took it. He was so like me. I could see it plain as day. He was a perfect gentleman, a gracious host, the life of every party, everybody’s friend. Every man wanted to be him, and every woman wanted to be with him. The three of us became thick as thieves. We did everything together. We roamed the Continent, taking what we wanted, when we wanted it. Behind closed doors, I saw his cruel streak with the women he took. He was so careful though, never let it slip over into his life. I showed him…” he breaks off with a look of sorrow at me, but I nod encouragingly for him to continue. “He watched me with the women I took.” His voice cracks. “He wanted to know what it was like to cause so much damage. I showed him. I showed him how powerful he was and everything he could do. Introduced him to the women who sold themselves for the pleasure of people like us. He became everything I wanted him to be. I wanted him to be just like me so that I wasn’t alone, so that I could justify my actions because I wasn’t the only one who liked to cause pain. He became addicted to it. The feeling of power it gave him. But still he controlled it, only unleashing his monster at night, in his bedchamber. By day, he was still the man that everyone wanted to be. After I met you and brought you back to live with me, I tossed him out. And Sebastian and all the others.” He shifts his eyes away from me, not wanting to name the names of his other charges that I don’t yet know about and not wanting me to ask. “That was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. It made him resent you. He became fixated on you. Wanted to know why I had chosen you over him. He needed to know why I wouldn’t share you as I had with all the others. I cut him off as coldly as I would a stranger, after over a thousand years of being inseparable. But I didn’t want him anywhere near you. Or any of them. I wanted to keep you all to myself and in the end, it was the cause of what happened to you. I am sure that Eloise didn’t have to try very hard to convince him to take you.” He stops and looks at me, coming back to the present as he remembers what Vivienne told us. “So yes, he was a perfectly normal, if a little cruel, member of society for the times, that I ended up breaking. Me, Aefre, not you. Please don’t ever think it was you.”
“But I didn’t love him and that is what drove him over the edge. That he couldn’t make me love him.”
“He wouldn’t have taken you had I not given him cause to be jealous and out for revenge.”
“But…”
“No, Aefre. We can go around in circles about this until the end of time. I will not allow you to take any responsibility for his actions.” He wraps his arms around me tightly and I cling to him.
“I love you,” I mumble.
“I love you too,” he strokes my hair, but he is still being distant with me.
&nbs
p; “Please stop rejecting me.”
“I am not rejecting you,” he says with a sigh.
“Then make love to me. I need you. I need to be with you.”
“I can’t. Not yet,” he mumbles as he pushes me away.
“That is rejection,” I say.
“No, it isn’t. I just keep picturing you with Sebastian and I’m sorry, but I can’t get it out of my head,” he blurts out.
“Well maybe you should have thought about that before you came up with the notion that it would be a good idea!” I yell at him, getting my mad on now. The rain is lashing against the windows as I climb out of bed, almost as if it is trying to reach me.
“I know,” he says behind me. “I was only thinking about Sebastian. I wanted to ease his suffering.”
I glare out of the windows at the weather, arms crossed and buck naked. I am freezing and I shiver. This is getting bizarre. Vampires don’t feel the temperature.
He drapes my robe over my shoulders and turns me to face him. “Forgive me. I know I am being an overly sensitive idiot.”
“Yes, you are. The best way to get the picture out of your head is to create a new one.”
“I don’t know. It’s a pretty vivid picture. You aren’t the quietest Vampire in the castle,” he says with a wry smile.
I blush furiously as his insinuation hits me and I look down, mortified that he heard me. “I’m sorry,” I mumble under my breath, feeling the need to apologize for some reason.
“Don’t apologize. I know he is exceptionally talented, as are you. It only makes sense that you would enjoy each other.”
My blush deepens even more if that is possible at his words, said so matter-of-factly. It makes me wonder how he can be so cavalier about it and yet so hurt at the same time.
“I know you have given him everything he wanted,” he whispers to me.
That makes me look up. “You’ve spoken to him?” I ask sharply.
He hesitates, probably from my tone, but then says, “No. But I know that you have. It makes me happy that he is happy. Even if it is at the same time difficult for me.”
“He told me about his wife,” I say suddenly, wanting him to know that I know.
He steps back, his arms still around me. He peers down at me in surprise and asks, “Which one?”
Which one? How many has he had? “Err, I don’t know. The one who betrayed him,” I say, now feeling foolish for bringing it up. Clearly, I don’t know the half of it.
“Which one?” he asks me again.
“There was more than one?” I ask, shocked and outraged on his behalf.
“Unfortunately, yes. Several, in fact. He was a complete romantic at heart, and he was determined that there was someone out there he could trust.”
“Oh. Uh, he said it was over two thousand seven hundred years ago, so I am going to assume the first one then?” Why would he tell me about her and not the others, I wonder to myself? I will have to ask him at some point.
He nods. “Ah yes, Isebella,” he says her name in disgust. “His first charge. It was a disaster. They were happy for over fifty years and then she just got greedy and betrayed him. Tried to sell him to the highest bidder. The clean-up was…messy,” he says distastefully.
Messy? I think what he means is ‘many’. Many Vampires killed to protect his secret. Shit. I really don’t know the half of it. I’m not sure that I want to know.
“Well, rest assured his secret is safe with me,” I say.
“I know,” he says. “You are a good woman, Aefre. He is lucky to have you as a friend.” He places just a bit too much emphasis on the word “friend,” almost as a warning to me to never take it further than that. Again, I hope that Drake, King of the Dark Fae, never shows his face around here or I am going to have some explaining to do.
“Now, why don’t you take a nice long bath and get ready. I am unable to take you out as we aren’t supposed to be here, but I can still create a wonderful date for you right here,” he says, brushing my hair back from my face.
“Ooo,” I say. “A date. I am impressed, sir,” I tease him affectionately and he gazes happily at me.
“Yes, I hear you are quite fond of those.” He takes my hand and leads me to the bathroom. “In fact, I have it on good authority that it is an excellent way to get you where I want you.”
“And where would that be?” I ask seductively.
“Completely at my mercy,” he says with his gorgeous smile that makes my heart thump.
“Humph,” I say as I bend over to fill the massive tub. “You had better pay up, D’Arcangelo. A girl could get a complex if you withhold much longer. I will take you by force if necessary.”
He laughs and says, “Oh, I’ll pay up, my sweet. You have nothing to worry about. Although, I do quite like the sound of you taking me by force, I may have to play hard to get.” He takes my hand and helps me into the tub that is now filling up nicely with lavender-scented bubbles.
“Play hard to get and you will be playing by yourself,” I say as I lean back and relax.
“Well, that is just no fun.” He mock pouts. “Am I going to have to be a wanton man-slut and ravage you before the entrées?”
“You wouldn’t hear me complaining. I quite like the idea of you being a wanton man-slut. It’s a pity that we can’t go out. The thought of you taking me in a crowded restaurant thrills me.”
His eyes go darker with lust. “Mm, I have to say it thrills me too. It reminds me of the time I just had to have you and fucked you during a very dull performance of ‘Cats’ in London a few decades ago.”
“Gave a whole new meaning to private box seats,” I say with a wicked glint. “I know that the old farts in the box next to us were watching.”
“Of course they were, we gave a better performance than what was being displayed on the stage,” he says arrogantly, fully confident in his sexual abilities.
“I am now highly aroused, my love. If you aren’t careful, I am going to pull you into this bathtub and have my wicked way with you.”
“I do love that I can arouse you with just thoughts,” he says as he leans back against the basins, out of my reach, but showing a clear sign of his own arousal. “I think that maybe one day, very soon, we are going to have to revisit the West End for an encore.”
“Now you are just being mean,” I say as he leers deliciously at me. “Putting thoughts like that into my head is a dangerous game if you have no intention of seeing to my needs.” I brush my hands lightly over my nipples and his eyes zero straight in on them now peeping out of the bubbles. I lightly trace my finger down in between my breasts and under the surface of the water as his eyes follow the path. They have darkened even more and are now almost black with his desire, but still he makes no move to touch me. If he is determined to make me wait for him, then I will just take matters into my own hands. Literally.
I close my eyes as I insert my finger into myself, my breath hitching slightly, and I hear his own breathing get heavier as he watches me. I start to rub my clit in slow circles, causing the full bathtub to slosh water all over the floor. He ignores it as his eyes narrow, my own opening slightly to watch him.
“Ah,” I cry out softly as I can feel the tingling start and I speed up, coaxing my orgasm to burst and I shudder and arch my back, pushing my bubble-covered breasts out of the water. The last of the rush leaves me and I sigh and relax again, taking my finger and sucking it seductively. I widen my eyes innocently at him, now highly turned on, but stubborn enough not to do anything about it. He breathes in slowly as I say, “One of these days, my love, you will learn that if you insist on turning me on and then leaving me unfulfilled, I will find a way to satisfy myself.”
“One of these days, my love,” he repeats, “you will learn that everything I do has a reason. Watching you pleasure yourself is one of life’s greatest gifts. I enjoy it almost as much as when I do it to you. And I really enjoy it when you think you have the upper hand, but you are merely acting on the course that I have
set.” His self-satisfied, smug smile is in place and I want to slap it off his face. The jerk. I stick my middle finger up at him and he lets out a loud guffaw, which causes me to add the other one, to his thorough enjoyment.
“You can’t win that game with me, my sweet. I know you too well, remember?”
“You shouldn’t be so boastful about being a master manipulator,” I say loftily. “It is not an attractive quality,” I add, which only serves to increase his laughter.
“Which isn’t? Being a master manipulator or being boastful?” he asks in between snickers.
“Both,” I snap at him. “If you aren’t careful, I will be the one withholding later.”
That shuts him up long enough to glare at me. “You wouldn’t dare,” he says. “You want me too much. You have no willpower.”
“Confident, aren’t you?” I say, flicking water at him. “Are you suggesting that you do have willpower? That you can resist me?”
“Of course,” he says with a shrug.
“Oh, I see. So, if I were to leave right now, you wouldn’t follow me?”
“Oh, I would follow you and drag you back, as this is my time. What I do with it, and you, is entirely up to me.”
“Entirely up to you? Bold words,” I say, enjoying this game as much as he is. “I suppose we shan’t be doing the ritual then later. What a pity,” I say it innocently and look away, making a show of washing myself and feigning nonchalance.
I can sense rather than see his fury that I have now, in fact, won this round and I smile, trying to hide it but failing miserably.
“You are a wicked woman,” he says. “A wicked, wicked woman. You are far too clever for your own good.”
“Do you admit defeat?” I ask, brazenly brandishing the loofa, as I would a sword.
“It appears the Ace up your proverbial sleeve has beaten my own this time,” he says grudgingly. “Don’t get used to it. The next time you threaten me with that, it will be the last.” He stalks out in bad grace, as I howl with laughter. He always was a sore loser. There again, I suppose when you hardly ever lose, it must come as a shock to the system.
Still celebrating my win, I get out of the bath and towel myself dry. A shiver goes down my spine as I think of all the ways he will make me pay but it was so worth it to see the look on his face.