by Jessica Sims
My heart twinged with sadness, picturing a younger Rand, all skinny legs and bright blue eyes. I pictured him tanned by the sun, his hair a few shades lighter than the dark brown color it was now.
“We joined the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was encouraging men across England to take up arms for a holy army of God. I believe the year was either 1187 or 1188.” He shrugged. “I did not feel particularly holy or driven to serve God, but it sounded like a grand adventure to a boy like myself. By the time we finally reached Jerusalem, though, it had been many years and many battles later. I was no longer a young, idealistic boy, and I no longer thought God was blessing one side over the other. It was one terrible battle after another, with both sides committing atrocities. At this time, I was the squire of an elderly gentleman who had seen my tireless fighting in the field, and although I was not noble, he made me his new squire when his died of pleurisy. His name was Frederic.”
“The Frederic from before?”
Rand nodded, and for a long moment he was quiet. “He was a good man. Very kind. Scholarly. I think he believed we were truly doing God’s work in Jerusalem . . . for a time. Then came Ayyadieh.”
“Ayyadieh?”
“It was a hill outside the city of Acre.” The look on Rand’s face was far away. “We had just captured Acre after a long siege. The garrison there was more than two thousand men, women, and children. Maybe three thousand. King Saladin of Jerusalem wanted his prisoners back. The Lionheart wanted his English prisoners back, but they could not agree as to which ones should be exchanged. King Richard grew tired of waiting, and he had all of the Musulmen prisoners executed. All of them. All men. All women. All children. He had them beheaded where the infidel troops could see them.” Rand looked down at his coffee cup, toying with it. “Some of the men on the enemy side were so upset that they charged at us and tried to save them, only to be slaughtered themselves. It was not a good day. War is an ugly thing.” He rubbed his jaw and looked sick at the memory. “I still think of them.”
My heart ached. “That sounds awful. So awful.”
“It was. I can still hear the screams in my head sometimes. I have seen many terrible things wrought in the name of God and glory, but that, I think, will forever haunt me.”
I shook my head, stunned. “I can’t even imagine.” The horrors he was relating in such a casual voice were unthinkable. Yet I knew from the miserable look on his face that they were all true.
He nodded. “Frederic lost heart at that. A day or two later, we found out that Saladin retaliated and killed all Christian prisoners he held. It was a terrible time on both sides, but I do not think King Richard cared. All he was interested in was waging more war. So even though we were tired, dispirited, and questioning ourselves, he drove us onward, seeking his next victory. Frederic and I never made it, though. We were captured in a skirmish and brought to Saladin’s army, along with a few other soldiers. One of the captured men was a knight called Guy de Verdun, and another was William de Beauchamp. We were dragged through the desert behind Saladin’s men, who were still angry at how their people had been massacred in Acre. Rightfully so, I might add. And we were brought near Jaffa to await our fate. We knew what it would be.”
“Death,” I guessed.
He gave a small nod of his head, still studying his mug of coffee intently. “The infidels were still furious over the deaths of the people of Acre. They thought us heartless and cruel. They thought us the infidels trying to steal their land. Interesting, is it not? Yet we were convinced God had sent us to murder the enemy and their children.” He shook his head. “We knew death awaited us. The moment Saladin arrived, we would be beheaded in front of him and his men. We accepted our fates, inasmuch as anyone can.”
“What did you do?”
“We prayed, of course. But everything changed when a new man arrived. He came after dark, escorted by his own contingent of troops. And he was called Al Tineen by the enemy. I learned later that it means ‘the dragon.’ ”
My eyes widened. “He saved you?”
Rand’s smile grew thin-lipped. “Saved me? I do not know if it was that he saved me inasmuch as he indentured me into a new kind of servitude. But yes, he rode into camp. And we were very shocked when he slaughtered all of the men around us save for a few that he deemed worthy. When he rounded up all of the survivors, there were six prisoners and six Musulmen. He gave us a choice. We could swear fealty to him and fight, or we could die. His men fought like dervishes. Like nothing I had ever seen before.” Rand gave a small shake of his head. “I was fascinated despite myself, and I wanted to live. So I agreed. And because I did, Frederic agreed as well. Those of us that chose to live were eight in number, and that was too many for the Dragon, so he had us fight each other. The four of us that remained were declared ‘special.’ Al Tineen took us into his ranks, and once we were fed, clothed, and back to our full strength, he turned us into upyri so we could better serve him. And I served him for the next two hundred years.”
Two hundred years. Wow. I couldn’t fathom. “What . . . what kind of stuff did you do for him?”
“War.” He shrugged. “Despicable, terrible things. I was a warlord under him. I went from squire to commander. Under the Dragon, all fell under my command. I spoke on his behalf, and warriors answered. In return, I gave the Dragon my fealty.”
That explained the bossiness and the people-using. “And the Dragon . . . what was he like?”
“He was not an infidel, if that is what you ask.” Rand looked thoughtful. “He was old when I met him. Centuries old. No one knows exactly how old. Like a snake, he changes skins over and over again so people are at ease. A man who comes to the land a stranger is more trustworthy than a man who never ages and roosts atop a pile of bones. The Dragon learned that long ago, so he would always travel, always seek new places. I learned that much from him. Under his banner, we took up many names and many identities, discarding them when they were no longer of use to us.”
I shook my head. “And so you don’t want to find this Dragon?”
His smile was rueful. “Why should I? The last two days are the first bit of true freedom I have had in the last two hundred years. I am only regretful it came at such a high cost. I am not yet certain it was worth it. Nor am I certain it will last.”
“What do you mean?”
He gave his coffee a nudge in my direction. I noticed it had not been drunk, not a single drop. He’d simply played with the mug the entire time. “Because once the Dragon figures out I have returned, he will either come to retrieve me, or he will come to finish the job.”
Only the Dragon can give you death’s release. “So what will you do?”
“I will do what any soldier would do in my position,” Rand said, studying me. “I will attack first. I will find Guy and I will determine if he is with the Dragon or with me. And when I do, I will either destroy my old friend, or we will unite to take down the Dragon. One thing is for certain—I cannot go back to the way things were. Ever again.”
Ten
There was something utterly delicious about waking up in a hotel bed, buried underneath a mountain of covers, a plush pillow under your head and a big, warm male body pressed up against yours . . .
I blinked awake. “Um?”
A hand stroked through my hair. “Your hair is very soft and clean, Lindsey. I have decided that I like the bathing habits of women in this time. You do not seem to be afraid of catching the plague.”
“No plague,” I told him sleepily. I really should have pulled away. Any moment now, I would.
Any. Moment. Now.
His fingers tugged through my long brown hair, fanning it over my shoulders. “You smell as wonderful as you taste. I like that. But then, there are a great many things I like about you.”
“My smell and my taste. Great.”
He chuckled, and I hated to admit that it made me quiver. Just a little. “Not just your smell and your taste. Your bravery. Your cleverness. Your concern for others.
All of it is admirable.”
That wasn’t so bad, then. I yawned, trying not to notice that his fingers brushed my jawline as he played with my hair, and that it made my body respond. “How come you’re warm?” I asked.
“The sun went down some time ago.” His thumb brushed my lower lip. “I fed.”
I stiffened in his arms, pulling away and sitting up in bed. All delicious sleepiness was gone. “Wait, what? You fed? From me?”
While I was asleep?
“Not from you,” he said, gazing at me thoughtfully. There was a sleepy look of desire in his eyes that was making me tingle despite myself. Damn it. Wasn’t I supposed to only want to jump his bones when he was hungry? Stupid body. Stupid hormones.
“Then who?”
He shrugged. “Another woman I found in the street. She did not smell nearly as pleasant as you.” His sensual gaze swept over my body. “Or taste as succulent.”
I blinked, then shook my head to clear it. Underneath all the compliments was an unpleasant little nugget. “You just snatched someone off the street and used them as your personal Slurpee?”
Rand studied me, and I could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to digest my outrage. “I do not know this word, Slurpee. Nor did I snatch someone. A woman approached me and asked if I wished for a good time. I did.” He shrugged. “I did indeed have a good time, though I have also had better with you.”
Ohmigod. He drank from a hooker and then cuddled with me? I gave an outraged squeal. “Please tell me you showered before climbing into bed with me?”
He looked surprised. “Why are you offended? I thought you would be more upset if I drank from you without permission. You know you are my blood vassal of choice.”
I pointed at the shower. “In there. Now. Do it. You do not cuddle with one woman while reeking of another.”
A smile touched his lips. “Are you jealous you did not receive my full attentions?” He took my hand in his, and even though I tried to snatch it away, he caught it again and began to play with my fingers. “I was trying to spare you, Lindsey. I know you are fragile and soft and cannot be drunk from constantly, though I admit I would enjoy it muchly.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” I told him and pointed at the shower again.
He wiggled his eyebrows. “You are certain I won’t catch the plague if I bathe?”
“You’re a vampire,” I told him. “Nice try with the medieval beliefs, though. Now, go shower.”
His chuckle of laughter echoed even after he got up and sauntered to the restroom. I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to wake up. Okay. Rand had already fed. I wondered why it irritated me. I wasn’t jealous. I wasn’t. In reality, it was probably a good thing, because I’d have my full strength, and we had a big day—or night—ahead of us. First step, contact Gemma and let her know that things weren’t exactly going to plan. Then we’d have to find some late-night shops, get Rand outfitted like a normal guy. Then, maybe a car rental—
“Lindsey?” Rand’s voice came from the other side of the bathroom door.
“I don’t hear water running,” I pointed out. “Freaking shower already!”
“I do not know how to operate these things.”
Oh, right. The man was just now figuring out doorknobs. Okay, fine. “I’ll come in. Are you decent?”
“Of course.”
I entered the small bathroom and was confronted by fully frontal medieval vampire. I stared, blinking at the sight of him. Definitely not circumcised. Definitely a shower and not a grower. I kept staring, even though I knew I wasn’t supposed to. It was like gazing at a perfect marble statue . . . with one very big exception. Rand was far more built than anything that had come out of the Renaissance. Dumbly, I stared at his cock for a moment longer, then forced myself to make eye contact with the smugly grinning man. “I . . . I thought you said you were decent.”
“Is this not?” He rubbed a hand on his belly, and so naturally my gaze went there. “I like to think it is all very decent.”
That ass. What was worse was that he was right. It was all extremely more than decent, and I hated that I was now going to think about it for the next several days. I forced myself to look up, and when I did, I noticed several scars on his pale chest. Old war wounds, perhaps? There was a history there, and I was interested, but I wasn’t going to ask about it while he was naked and fresh from his latest blood vassal. So, blushing, I pushed past him and showed him how to turn on the shower. “Here. Go clean yourself. Have fun.”
“In my time, a woman would scrub the back of a lord—”
“In my time, I’d shove your face into the tile for suggesting it,” I retorted before he could even finish the sentence.
Rand burst out laughing. “Your spirit is one of the things I like best about you, Lindsey.”
“Just shower already,” I said, cheeks hot as I escaped the bathroom.
It was easy to tell when Rand had actually used the shower. A sharp cry, followed by “This is miraculous!” came from the bathroom. Then I got a play-by-play. “This water is hot! How is it so? Where is it coming from? Why is this soap so soft?”
I ignored all of it and tidied myself as best I could. I didn’t have fresh clothes to change into, but my purse at least had a bit of makeup and a hairbrush, so I did what I could and put my shoes on, then pulled out my phone to text Gemma a bit while Rand discovered the magic of terry-cloth towels.
You there? I sent.
OMG yes! came the immediate reply. Did you deliver the package? Were you sad to see him off? Did you give him one last suck before sending him on his way? And by suck I mean taste, not that you couldn’t suck the rest of him, you know. But I didn’t mean it as dirty as it sounded. Well, actually, I might have.
Sometimes I was amazed at how fast Gemma could text. Change of plans, I sent. His friend? Dead. Actually 2 friends dead.
WHAT?
Don’t worry—they died in 1760 or something. Rand was sensing their ashes or something.
Oh no. Poor baby. Did you give him a pity fuck to distract him?
No!
Aw. But you guys would make a cute couple. I’ve been totally shipping it ever since you two left. That and I’m bored here by myself. No one to talk to. At least you’re with a hottie vampire who wants to bone you.
I saw him naked btw. I couldn’t resist texting that back to her. Tried to show him how to shower. He’s definitely a SHOWer.
OMG DETAILS.
That was it! That, and he has scars on his chest. And he’s rather proud of his equipment. And not circumcised.
Fanning myself over here. Fanning! Did you just want to get down on your knees and take him in your mouth?
NO! Gemma!
Did I mention I’m really bored?
You’re killing me.
So for real, tell me what’s going on.
Rand says he has another vampire friend and he has to find out if the guy is his enemy or not. He wants to go find him. I’m going to see what we can find out locally and get Rand some clothes before we head out. How you doing back there?
I’m ok. Working hard. I dropped the anhua vase btw.
My heart dropped. YOU WHAT?
Hahah jk. I wouldn’t do that.
I hate you.
You <3 me. And in all seriousness, I met with a dealer earlier today. He is going to come dig through some of this stuff and give us a bulk price and take it off our hands. So we can sell him the heavy stuff and ship the rest home to auction later.
Good thinking.
Thank you! I’m pretty pleased with myself. He’s going to come by tomorrow. Says he’s super interested in what we’ve found. Told him I wouldn’t accept bids less than 20k and he was fine with that.
Wow really?
Yup! Wheeling and dealing on this end!
You rock, I sent back, super-pleased. Gemma was kicking ass while I was farting around Rome with a vampire. Is it going to bother you if I stick with Rand for a few more days to get h
im settled?
Not at all! Poor guy’s like a puppy in this time period. A big, randy puppy with fangs. He needs a friend.
She had a point. Rand did need someone looking out for him. I’d seen all the trouble he’d gotten into, so I couldn’t imagine what he’d be like on his own. I might have to run up the credit card a bit.
No worries. We’re going to make bank on this place. And I won’t touch the anhua until you get back, I promise. I know how you are about the porcelain!
You’re the best.
Keep me posted on deets. Remember, I am shipping you two. SHIPPING. YOU.
Nothing is happening on that front, no matter how much Rand might wish it.
I wish it too! You guys would make a cute couple.
Stop it, Gemma! He’s a vampire.
So? My last boyfriend was married and didn’t tell me. Vampire is better.
There was no arguing with her.
Ooo, there’s someone at the door. Maybe it’s the dealer. I’ll keep you posted!
Just in time. I ended the conversation with a quick XOXO and pocketed my phone. Time to retrieve my vampire, I supposed.
I tried not to think about Gemma’s hints that Rand and I should hook up. Gemma liked sex more than the average girl, and she didn’t understand my long periods of celibacy. I didn’t date much, and when I did, it usually turned out poorly. My control issues and my childhood abandonment issues didn’t exactly make me a winner in long-term relationships. As a result, I hadn’t gotten laid in the last year, and it had been even longer since I’d dated someone seriously.
I thought of Rand again. Naked. Warm against me in bed. Telling me how good I tasted.
Nope. Nope nope nope.
That was a path I didn’t need to head down. Not only would that mess things up between us but he was also a wild card. He was dangerous. He was . . . lonely. Like me.