Eagle of Ice, Scorpion of Fire

by Tortuga, B. A.

Her coat was taken by nearly invisible staff, her hand taken by Jared as he led her into the dark, warm warren, wove through tables and couches.

  “I thought you needed some time away from the office, love. I hope I didn’t presume too much.” They sat, and a lovely young Greek boy came to lay out hot towels and little bowls of fragrant oils with floating wicks.

  “I can appreciate stepping outside of the norm and you might well have saved my assistant’s life.” The scent of life and smoke and wine and years of pleasure was enough to make her dizzy, reminding her of the opium dens in London, the games played with laudanum and absinthe.

  “Good.” Bending, he kissed her throat, smiling up into her eyes. Gracious, but he was beautiful like this, almost buzzing with excitement.

  She gave him a smile, allowed herself to relax back into the soft velvet cushions and watch. The club was busier than it appeared, more tables full than not. The furniture was carefully arranged for the illusion of privacy. There were no windows, which anyone else would have found odd. She just found the heavy, velvet draped walls comforting. Large mirrors had been placed throughout to reflect the flickering lights, giving the whole room a low, surreal glow.

  “So, why are you killing your assistant today?”

  “Because she was being incompetent and worrying about leaving for holiday instead of doing her job.”

  “Ah. Aleene still missing your clutches, love? You’re nothing if not focused.” Damned right she was, and she expected those around her to be. Jared had always qualified.

  “If one is to succeed, one must be, yes?” How many times had Silvestri told her that as she struggled with lesson after lesson? She had been neither beautiful nor clever, strong or capable when Silvestri swooped down and carried her away, making her his own.

  She was more than capable now.

  “Indeed. I learned that from you, love. I truly did.” Jared kissed her square on the mouth then, his hand sliding up her thigh.

  Katharine gasped, nipping his bottom lip just a bit. So forward. So strong.

  “Mmmm.” That just seemed to excite him, and Jared moved closer, until nothing separated them but their clothing.

  “We’re not alone, pet.” His hand landed on her waist, hot enough to burn.

  “No? No one will pay us any attention.” The same boy appeared, then left them without a word, discreet as could be.

  “There is always someone paying attention.” The wine was perfect, rich and thick, clinging to her lips.

  “Yes. I am.” He watched her, his eyes dark and needful. She could feel him wanting her with every part of him. It was heady. Katharine resisted the urge to smooth her hair, her blouse. What was wrong with her, that a few words, one look, could have her fluttering like a fool? “What would you like next, love? They have a fine selection of finger foods, and they have more...exotic drinks.” Really, his fingers should not be sliding under her skirt.

  “Exotic?” She slid her hips back, but the action spread her thighs, thrust her breasts out.

  “Yes. Mixed drinks, if you will. Shall we indulge?” He was daring her with that smile, all wide and almost smug, as if he thought she would refuse because it was day out, and not proper.

  “I could indulge.” Like she could not meet him in this. Bastard.

  Jared raised one finger and their waiter appeared, a short, murmured conversation was all it took to send the lad scampering off. It was dangerous, playing chicken like this, the way a cocktail of that nature would heighten their senses.

  “Are you a regular here?” She tended to avoid others of her kind, to avoid the temptations and the trouble. She had Silvestri; she had her work. That was enough.

  “Not terribly, but I’ve been in a few times.” His thumb rubbed circles on the tender skin at the inside of her thigh, always fascinated by the smooth scar there. She wasn’t about to admit that she’d never been, or that that insistent touch was about to drive her crazy, her entire body responding to those fingers. “Ah, our drinks.”

  The boy sat the tray down and disappeared like smoke. The scent nearly made her drool, all lovely velvet wine and strong copper.

  “It smells luscious.” Heady. Dangerous. Amazing. Katharine almost purred.

  “It does. Shall we share?” There were two cups, both with a different brew, one spicy, the other sweet. Jared offered her the former, obviously remembering how she liked to put out the fire with something dulce. The rush that hit her was surprising, unnerving, and completely luscious. She licked her lips as Jared pulled the glass away, his throat working as he drank.

  His throat. Dark and long, the veins pulsing there.

  Oh.

  He smiled at her, licking his lips and swallowing again, tempting her beyond reason. “It’s good.”

  “It has a wicked flavor.” Her nipples ached, they were so hard, and she wanted to taste him. Listen to him cry out and beg her for more.

  “It does. Like bottled sin. Not nearly as good as you taste, love. But good.” His mouth dipped to touch just below her ear, his tongue almost shockingly cool.

  She shuddered, swallowing her moan. “I have less of a kick, I imagine.”

  Which was, of course, utter bullshit.

  “You’re pure fire, Katharine. Pure joy.” It was impossible to get closer without crawling into one another, and she could swear she felt the sting of his teeth on her skin.

  “Jared.” No. Not here. Not like this. She shifted away, reaching for the other glass. “This one is sweet?”

  He sat back, flushed, eyes tracing her outline from her lips to her breasts and hips. “Yes. Thick. Almost syrupy.”

  She dipped one finger in the drink, sucking it clean and humming at the decadence. It was honeyed and rich, heavy on her tongue. Jared took her hand, licking the residue of the wine off, humming around her flesh. She could smell his need so clearly, even over the incense and alcohol. She traced the line of his teeth, the flat lines of the ones in the front, one just a tiny bit crooked against her index finger. Then she reached his canines, the teeth elongated and sharp, stinging as her impaled a fingertip on one. Licking at her, he closed his eyes, his throat working again, beckoning her. The sting as he slid his fang deeper made her gasp, made her rub her thighs together.

  This moan escaped, a sweet, sudden heat flooding her. The hint of pleasure pain fascinated her, but the rush, the promise, which was an addiction of the most dangerous kind. A soft groan answered her, Jared licking up to her wrist, fangs scraping there as well, the sting enough to make her jump. Her fingers curled instinctively, touch sliding over Jared’s cheek, petting him, scratching him with her nails.

  Those heavy eyelashes closed over Jared’s eyes for a moment, then he looked up at her again, that look so hot that nearly burned her. Beautiful man. She could drown in those eyes, in the heat there. Dark eyes closed again, hiding Jared’s intentions, and damned if he didn’t move to the inside of her elbow, nipping and kissing. He seemed determined to hit every nerve ending.

  Katharine found herself shaking, eyes focused on his mouth, her skin. She reached for the glass with her free hand, fingers trembling. Jared helped her, lifting the glass with his free hand, sipping it before handing it to her, his tongue catching a tiny escaped drop and pulling it into his mouth.

  She drank deep, the wine and blood and honey pouring into her, making her head swim. No more. Not another sip.

  Grabbing the other glass, Jared took a long drink before rising to kiss her, his lips hard on hers, his mouth opening hers up. He had her moaning, rocking, giving in to him in no time at all. His hands were flat on her back, one thigh splitting hers as he tugged her so close nothing could come between them.

  When his mouth left hers, they were both shifting restlessly, both needing more. His cock prodded her upper thigh, and he pulled her up over his leg, his head dipping so he could kiss her throat.

  “Jared!” Her head fell back as he squeezed her, nipples dragging against his chest and sending a zing through her.

  “
Yes, love.” The words came out muffled because Jared pressed hard against her throat. Finally Jared’s fangs sank into her skin, piercing her throat like a knife through butter.

  She came with a cry, the pleasure undeniable and sharp, nerves firing furiously as she ground down against Jared’s thigh. Then she felt him jerk against her, felt his cock even through their clothes as it jerked and spent for her. His groan sounded unbelievably loud.

  Katharine settled down, panting, shaking as she came down, let him hold her. The sound of slow applause hit her, the realization of what it was almost like a slap to the face. “Well done, Scorpion-love. You wanted to make Silvestri’s princess your own.”

  Ice poured through her and she stiffened, sliding away from Jared, from Jared’s heat, and from the tiny Asian woman standing before them.

  She’d been played.

  She was a fool.

  “What?” Jared stared at her, looking dazed, his mouth swollen. He looked delicious even now, and it added to her fury.

  She turned her back on Jared, staring the other woman down for only a moment before the little bitch’s smile widened. “You’re staining your blouse, child. Whatever will people think?”

  She flew to the door, intent on nothing but escape, but finding her way home and hiding in safety.

  Home.

  Silvestri.

  ****

  The click of Katharine’s heels had barely faded when Jared looked up to see Keiko standing before him, one hand reaching out to him. Her smile was as serene as ever.

  “Jared. I did not expect to see you here, sweet.”

  That was his line, wasn’t it? “I certainly didn’t expect to see you either, madam.”

  Tiny wrinkles appeared on her forehead, but the hand she held out never wavered. “Are you upset with me?”

  It did no good to be upset with her, so he supposed he wasn’t. “Did you set this up?”

  “Set what up? Silvestri contacted you about a job. The rest is your own problem.”

  Oh, God, she had been conspiring with Katharine’s sire. It all clicked into place now. He’d thought the old man had known too much about him, too many secrets he held deep inside. Now he saw it all far too clearly.

  “I only want to make her happy, you know.”

  Those liquid, wise dark eyes stared right into him. “I know you love her. But you also want to be her equal, and that might be the hardest thing. You are young yet, compared to her. Do not rush the learning, or you will lose her.”

  He finally took her hand, pulling her to him for a warm embrace. “Like I lost you?” he asked.

  Her laugh always reminded him of the trilling of an exotic bird, her tiny body shaking with laughter as he held her. “I was never yours to have, sweet. You were my student, I your sensei. I will always adore you. But we did not have what you need. I was your means to an end.”

  There was no heat there, no resentment, so Jared couldn’t work himself up to protest. It was true.

  “So what do I do now?” he asked. If she was going to set him up, the least she could do was help.

  “Give her a few days and go to her. Just enough for her to cool off, not enough for her to run.” A white handkerchief was handed over with no ceremony at all. “Oh, and do clean yourself up, love. You’re a mess.”

  His cheeks heated, but he took the cloth.

  “Do you think she’ll try to leave town?” Surely Katharine wouldn’t leave her life that easily, would she?

  “From what I saw in her eyes, she will try to get as far from you as possible. You terrify her.” One delicate hand combed through his hair, catching here and there as her nails caught on a curl. “She has deep feelings for you.”

  “Okay, so I’ll make sure I get to her before she goes.” His chest went tight at just the thought of Katharine escaping him.

  “You will find her at Silvestri’s.”

  He didn’t ask her how she knew, just nodded, leaning back to smile at her. “Well, I would hate for the meal I set up to be wasted. Will you join me, madam?” he asked, figuring he might as well spend some time with Keiko while she was here.

  She rewarded him with a smile. “I would love to, sweet. We have much to catch up on.”

  Jared nodded again, giving Keiko a sideways kind of look. She actually had a great deal to answer for, and he intended to ply her with wine and questions. “Indeed we do, Madam. Indeed we do.”

  ****

  Dmitri was singing to him, rocking him in time with the motion of the ship. It was cool outside, autumn crisp and he could hear the geese honking. The song was one from Dmitri’s childhood, the language long lost, the words pointless under the weight of memories. The tune meant home and laughter, love and a boundless need that he clung to.

  It promised him hope. Faith. An eternity of pleasure if only they could stay safe, stay quiet, stay…

  “Oldefar.” A cool hand was on his shoulder, shaking. “Oldefar. Master, please. I need you.”

  Silvestri frowned, the dream shattering, pushed away immediately in response to the soft sobs of his beloved hawk-child as he dragged her close. “Katia?”

  “He used me, Oldefar. He wanted only to embarrass me, to prove himself able to…” Another sob and she pushed closer, shaking.

  Silvestri sat up in his bed, rocking her gently, murmuring even as a spark of rage started. This would never do. This scorpion of Keiko’s was supposed to bring Katharine joy, not tears. Obviously the lad needed a stern talking to.

  Possibly a beating.

  Silvestri could bite one of the lad’s fingers off, just as a reminder…

  The scent of copper distracted him and his fingers slid down, catching in the tacky blood at Katia’s throat.

  Oh. Oh, goodness.

  She’d allowed Jared to feed.

  How very entertaining.

  “Oh, Oldefar. Master. I’m so sorry. I am. I should have been stronger. I should have said no.” The tears drenched his silk pajamas and he spent a moment hoping her makeup wasn’t melting all over the white.

  Mascara was a bitch to get out.

  “No. No apologies. You are home, yes? Safe. Be at ease, sweet princess.”

  Her pink-tinged eyes stared up at him, a mixture of shame and betrayal in them, cutting him to the bone. She fought so desperately for her control and still, after nine hundred years could not admit that it was all simply illusion. “Promise? You won’t turn me away?”

  “Never.” This time he did growl, allowing his will to surround her, demand her belief, her acquiescence. He was the sire, was the elder, was the master here. She was his own, his kin, the child of his heart. He could no more turn from her than he could age. Silvestri turned her face toward his throat, toward the vein that pulsed there. For a moment he was afraid she would deny herself even this small comfort, then she relaxed against him, pulling the blankets around in a cocoon.

  His Katia kissed his throat and then those lips parted, his sweet child nourishing herself, calming the new addiction in her veins. His own belly was filled, that little minx that betrayed Katia caught and silenced, the problem ended.

  He kept his tone light, his touch comforting as she took solace in him, but inside Silvestri rejoiced. A bond. A feeding. Soon his dear one would be mated and happy.

  For an eternity.

  And if that Jared-boy didn’t cooperate?

  Well, then Silvestri would hang him by his toenails and make the boy pay a price that no mere mortal could begin to comprehend.

  Chapter Six

  Jared waited nervously outside the door. He had been to Silvestri’s once, to the cigar room to have a brandy and a Cuban while they discussed Katharine.

  Now he was there for a very different reason, though still invited. He needed to see Katharine, to explain. He’d lost it completely at the club, letting her beauty and the heady taste of her overpower his good sense.

  He’d never meant to hurt her. Or her precious reputation.

  The door was opened, the tall gaunt man openi
ng the door reminding him of Lurch from the Addam’s Family and making him want to laugh. Silvestri was an old dog with the weirdest sense of humor. “Good evening. The master is in the small dining room.”

  “Thank you.” He followed tall, skinny and terrifying through the great room, a towering aluminum Christmas tree catching his eye. A Christmas tree. In Silvestri’s house. On closer inspection it was decorated with tiny purple bats and those little vials with rubber stoppers that they used in the hospital when they drew your blood. Jared rolled his eyes. Figured.

  The topper was a little angel, dressed in black. With a bustier.

  “Jared, my dear boy! How does life find you?” Silvestri waved languidly, long silver hair framing the man oh-so perfectly.

  “Not so well, I suppose. I’m missing Katharine.” Missing her did not even begin to qualify. For all of his cool exterior, he burned for her on the inside, no better at fighting it than he had been as a human.

  “She’s very grumpy, I’m afraid. Did you have a tiff? She’s been skulking about. Sold her little apartment and everything.”

  “Yes, I know. I went to talk to her and she was gone.” He’d panicked then, going to Keiko and demanding that she make it right, hence his meeting now with Silvestri. Hell, he hadn’t even known Keiko was in town until she showed up at the club. Until the worst possible moment.

  “I believe she’s talking about heading to Paris for a bit. I do hope you’ll talk her out of it. I would miss her.” If he didn’t know that innocent, unlined face held a brilliant mind, he’d be in serious, serious trouble.

  “Uh huh. Where is she?” If he let himself say what he wanted to, he might get kicked out. Silvestri was a canny old fart who had set him up as neatly as he had Katherine.

  “In her suite, I believe. I heard things breaking only an hour ago and Franklin left for the rest of the week.”

  One hand was waved, dismissing him. Jared turned to go, when Silvestri’s soft voice drew him up short. “Do take care of her, Jared. I would hate to have to rip that ink from your skin and have it cured to hang upon my wall.”

  “Mmm, yes, I can see that.” That old man’s youthful face had a terribly bloodthirsty cast to it for a moment, fangs showing long and shiny. Then it was gone, the smile returning. Jared rolled his shoulders, following the servant who appeared out of nowhere down a long, marble hall.