Fury's Kiss Page 95


I was naked, too—of course—but for once, I didn’t mind. I did kind of mind the weird, fuzzy, strung-out feeling I was having, though. So I just lay there for a few minutes, too groggy to do much more than stare at the elaborate molding on the ceiling.


After a while, it got a little better, and I rolled over and watched the vampire instead. He was more interesting—a lot more, I decided, as the firelight danced over fascinating hills and valleys, hard muscle and soft creases, and picked out fiery glints in the dark mass of his hair. And in the brilliant blue eyes that slowly opened to blink at me.


An arm reached out and tugged me over, and I went grinning, sprawling on top of him bonelessly. And pleased to discover that, yes indeedy, he wasn’t wearing anything except a satiny comforter. Of course, that was kind of a problem, too, because silken sheets and satin bedding and sleek vampire turn out to be kind of slippery. I started to slide off the other side, but hands came up to grip my waist. I smiled sloppily at their owner.


He smiled back for a second, a brief, sardonic twist of his lips, until I decided to sit up. And then the smile faded, replaced with something else as his eyes slid down my body. That glance was warmer than the fireplace heat on my back, although I guess my body didn’t think so, judging by the way certain things perked right up.


He closed his eyes in what looked like pain.


I bent over him. “Howdy,” I said, feeling friendly.


Those sapphire eyes fluttered open again. No man should have lashes that long, I thought, or a bottom lip that tempting. It was just wrong. It deserved to be punished, to be bitten…really…hard.…


I finally noticed that it wasn’t getting any closer, despite my best efforts. Maybe because his hands had come up from my waist to my biceps, holding me in place. I tried pushing against them, which did no good at all. And for some reason I found that just really sexy.


Of course, that pretty much applied to everything right now.


“Dory.” He swallowed as I writhed around on top of him, sending his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously. I had a sudden strong urge to bite it, too.


“Hmm?”


“We can’t.”


“Can’t what?” I was still watching that little bump, I don’t know why. His pecs were works of art, the washboard stomach rising and falling gently under my ass was completely lickable, and then there were those lips. They were supermodel lips, Renaissance angel lips, and I fully intended to get around to them. But right now, they weren’t what I wanted.


“I’m going to bite you,” I warned him, and felt him groan.


“Do that again,” I said because it had resonated in interesting places.


“We can’t,” he repeated instead.


I suddenly realized what he was talking about, and laughed. “Wanna bet?” I challenged, and wiggled back a few inches.


Oh, yeah. No problem here.


“Don’t,” he said tightly, grasping my hips before I could manage to arrange things properly. Which was a bit of a disappointment, but then I realized that delicious throat was unprotected. I went in for the kill.


Well, not literally; I even made sure not to use fangs. And after the first bite, it was really more of a sucking motion, because I liked the way it vibrated under my mouth when I—


Hard fingers dug into my hips and that was more like it.


“Dory, please.”


Or maybe not. I paused to look up at him. “Give me one good reason why not.”


“Any moment, you are going to remember. And once I begin to pleasure you, I do not intend to be interrupted.”


I frowned, and sat back. “Remember what?”


And then it hit me.


“That,” he said sardonically, as I stared down at him.


For a long moment, I didn’t say anything. And then I tried hopping up, intending to make for the door because I’d really lost it this time, and I didn’t need to be around people when—


Louis-Cesare tackled me.


My back hit mattress, and my front hit vampire, or I guess he hit me, because he landed on top. “You’re not crazy,” he told me, as I fought, and kicked and bit—


And ended up immobilized with my arms over my head and hot, satiny muscles sliding along—


Okay, that was unfair.


“Not crazy, huh?” I demanded, as he deliberately slowed down. And started kissing my neck.


“Mmm.”


“Then why do I think I just got appointed senator?”


“Possibly because you did.”


“Now you’re just as crazy as I am,” I told him, as those lips slid lower.


“No. I am sure of it. I am on the Senate, too. They require that we know these things.”


“And I require that you stop being an ass! What the hell?”


He looked up from licking his way around a nipple. “Do you see why I did not wish to start this?”


“Just tell me.”


He rested his chin on my sternum and smiled slightly. “It is true. Extraordinary, I grant you, but then, these are extraordinary times. And the consul was not pleased at the reaction of most of the masters who had come to vie for the open Senate positions. This is a wartime Senate; it needs warriors. Yet, when it came down to it, it was as she said. Few were willing to put their lives on the line without certainty of reward.”


“Yes, but…I’m dhampir. I’m not even a person in vampire law!” Why was I the only one who seemed to get this?


“You are not. But your father was able to successfully argue that Dorina is. And since you are inseparable…”


“Dorina.” I stopped, and felt my skin go cold. “That’s it, isn’t it? They want her and her mental abilities.”


He nodded. “They are rare and, based on Lawrence’s fate, it would appear that you have inherited much of your father’s skill.”


“Then…are they going to try to bring her out?” I gripped his arms. “Are they going to try to—”


“Dory.” He gripped me back. “You are Dorina. And she is you. You may feel separate at the moment, because you have been cut off for so long from the other side of yourself. But you are one person.”


“But Mircea said—”


“He made the argument he did because it was the only one most vampires might accept. Our kind are notoriously xenophobic; they needed to see you as one of them.”


Yeah, like that was likely.


“And because the consul told him to.”


“What?” Now I was really lost.


His mouth screwed up in a scowl, but I didn’t think it was for me. “You were right—your abilities are rare, and highly prized. The consul wanted them on her side, before you were snapped up by a rival. She also wanted your connections to the Blarestri, whom it appears we now need badly. And she wanted a Senate firmly under her control, something much less certain with some of the other leading candidates.”


“But…a Senate seat…” It was not just crazy. It was completely impossible.


“If it makes you feel any better, it is for the duration of the war only. As is mine. Then my century-long ban will go back into effect, and you…Well, you may do as you like. Of course, you can do that now, if you insist. I cannot recall anyone turning down a Senate seat, but it should technically be possible.…”


I lay there, no longer fighting, since my head was spinning too much. And because I wasn’t going to win anyway. And because I kind of liked the feeling of sensual captivity, at least by this particular jailer.


Soft hair and warm lips trailed downward, and I stared up, at a fat cherub on the frieze around the ceiling who was smirking at me. He knew I didn’t belong here. Knew it couldn’t last.


But I wanted it to. I curled my fingers in Louis-Cesare’s hair, clenching them unconsciously, because I didn’t want to let go. And maybe you don’t have to, some insidious voice insisted. If you are on the Senate—crazy, stupid, absurd—you would be equals. And no one told senators no and can’t and shouldn’t except the consul. And does she really care who her people are sleeping with…?


I could have him, I thought, and it seemed more unreal than anything else that had happened lately. I could have him—


Yeah, for how long? another, slightly saner voice asked. Remember Christine. Remember how he really thinks of you. As some kind of replacement for her, as someone he can save—


“Is that what you think?” I looked down to see Louis-Cesare resting between my thighs, but with a massive scowl on his face. “Is it?”


“How did you—?” I asked, confused.


“You’re projecting,” he said angrily. “Mircea said it is a result of having half your mind flooded with this new power all at once. Or new to it—” He shoved the explanation away. “It will come under your control in time.”


“Good to know.” Or I could foresee a lot of trouble ahead.


Like right now, for instance.


“Did you mean that?” he demanded again.


“I—it’s what I heard—”


“From whom?”


“I don’t—”


“Verrell,” he hissed, and I winced.


“Stop that!”


“He is—” Louis-Cesare cursed harshly in French, before getting himself under control. “He is a good chef. He is not my confidant!”


He got up abruptly and began pacing, giving me a hell of a view, but I didn’t enjoy it. It looked like I’d really managed to step in it this time. There was anger written in every line of his body.


“I have existed four hundred years. I have lived”—he spun back around—“I have lived very damned few! Tucked away in the country like a dirty little secret; imprisoned when I didn’t thoughtfully die of some plague before coming of age. Years locked away, before escaping with Radu—who promptly left me before I could learn how to live this new life of mine. Having to figure it out for myself, and once I finally did, once I began to build a family, once I began to think that finally, perhaps the future would be brighter—Christine. Just another sort of prison!”

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