The Blood Kiss Part 4

Julianna wasn't going to take it from this smoldering, s.e.xy werewolf-even if part of her was tempted.

She pulled back from him slowly, bending to pick up her jeans, tugging them on. A s.h.i.+ver slid through her as the crotch of her jeans brushed against the sensitized flesh between her thighs, the panties sliding wetly over her flesh as she b.u.t.toned them. Sweet heaven, she was so aroused she thought she would come just from the light pressure of the seam of her jeans pressing against her p.u.s.s.y.

Swallowing, she forced a blank expression onto her face and turned around to face him, arching one brow with cool amus.e.m.e.nt. "Is that a fact?" she asked quietly.

His pale green eyes narrowed on her face, and she had to fight not to squirm under that direct gaze. "You know it is," he murmured.

Julianna lifted one shoulder slowly. "I don't know any such thing," she replied.

"You can't make me believe you don't want me," he said, his voice deep and rough. Roman leaned over to her, cupping her face in one palm, lifting her gaze to his.

"I never tried to say I didn't. But there's been a great many things in my life that I've wanted, or that I wanted to do. And I rarely got them. While I've been forced to accept many things I don't want," she said, her voice cold and flat. "Not everybody just reaches out and takes what they want. And I've learned that sometimes the wisest course of action is-restraint."

Roman laughed, tipping his head back as he stared up at the sky, a deep chuckle rolling from him. She flushed, s.h.i.+fting from one bare foot to the other, feeling the leaves crackle under her feet, the dampness of the forest floor under the layer of foliage. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she listened to him laugh for the longest time.

"Restraint-I didn't think that word was known by the House of Capiet," he said, his laugh abruptly stopping as he looked back at her. "They love to take, and take-and now, when it would harm n.o.body, you speak of restraint."

Julianna sniffed delicately. "Just like a d.a.m.ned werewolf. Thinking only of how it would affect the now.'" She spied her shoes and stalked over to them, sliding them on before hunkering on the ground to tug them on.

"So it's foresight you try to use?" he asked, sounding confused. "What would it hurt for you to let me finish this?" His voice dropped to a rough purr as he approached her from the back, kneeling down behind her and laying one palm on the inside of her leg, near the knee, drawing the flat of his hand up her thigh until he had reached her crotch. Cupping his hand over the covered mound of her p.u.s.s.y, he whispered beguilingly, "To let me slide those clothes back off you, spread you on the ground, and lick this sweet little p.u.s.s.y until you came, over and over? To mount you and f.u.c.k you until we both forget who we are, what we are... until nothing matters but what we can do to each other?"

Her breath escaped her in a shaky rush. Nothing... nothing at all. The words were frozen on her tongue, a plea to beg him to do just that locked in her throat. Julianna's heart was screaming at her. Everything! It will hurt everything.

Taking him as a lover, even for a brief moment, would leave a mark on her heart, she suspected. One that no other would ever be able to replace. She had felt the power this man had inside him the minute she stared into his eyes on her balcony, had felt her heart tremble and weaken with every moment spent around him. She wasn't about to compound her problem by sleeping with him.

Of course, it might be too late...

Julianna closed her fingers around his wrist, tugging it away. He resisted at first but then acquiesced, letting her guide his hand away from her s.e.x, resting it on her knee as he propped his chin on her shoulder. "It could hurt nothing," she agreed softly. Squirming out of his arms, she crawled away, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. "But it could also destroy everything. I never do anything without thinking it over, long and hard, Roman. Especially not something like this."

His hand appeared in her field of vision, and she lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. She accepted his hand, though, and let him pull her to her feet. Roman's eyes rested on her mouth for a second and then he brushed her hair away from her face, lowering his head to brush his lips against hers as he murmured, "This doesn't mean I'm letting it go."

A frisson of delight raced down her spine as he turned away. Well, she really hoped not. She was stupidly independent, not stupid.

Well, he had been wis.h.i.+ng he could get away from the women who did little more than strip themselves naked and throw themselves at his feet, whether he wanted them there or not.

Roman walked behind her through the woods, pretty certain she wasn't going to make another run for it, but not one hundred percent sure. Of course, part of him wished she would run. If he had to chase her down again, when he caught her, he'd most likely do nothing except tear off her clothes and f.u.c.k her senseless.

The taste of her was still heavy in his mouth. His fingers itched from running over those silken curves, and his c.o.c.k ached like a bad tooth, throbbing inside his jeans.

Because they were walking, they had a good four-hour hike back to where they had parked. Roman wasn't sure if he could tolerate watching the subtle sway of her a.s.s, the way it curved in her jeans, the soft flare of her hips. The bottom of her s.h.i.+rt barely touched the waist of her jeans, and he kept getting teasing glances of bare skin.

His brother would be lucky if he didn't kill him. Jenner, too. d.a.m.n it, couldn't they have waited thirty more minutes before deciding to come investigating? With an aggravated snort, he muttered, "Of course not." Both Steven and Jenner probably knew what they were going to be interrupting.

b.a.s.t.a.r.ds.

A breeze picked up, carrying the soft scent of her body to him, and he would have fallen to her feet and begged if he thought it would have done him any good, even though groveling was something he'd never done before. Of course, he hadn't ever met a woman who made him want her the way she did.

From the first look at her, he had wanted her.

I'll have her. He knew it as sure as he knew his own name. He would have her before he had to let her walk away from him.

A niggling little voice inside his head whispered, That's only going to make it harder...

But at the moment, even though he suspected it was nothing more than fact, he didn't care.

But for now, he thought with a grimace, I've got to get her home. There was a dark suspicion in his gut, one that had been there since he had seen her looking so lost and desperate, walking on the balcony of her house, her eyes sad, half wild. She wasn't safe.

He didn't know what the threat was, but there was one.

Julianna wasn't safe until she was far away from her father, preferably out of his reach, his domain. His domain spread far, perhaps farther than it should. But none would dare try to touch her when she was within Roman's domain. None had the authority, or the right, save her father, and he was too much a f.u.c.king coward to step one foot into werewolf territory.

The skin on the back of his neck started to p.r.i.c.kle, and he moved closer to Julianna, craning his head, listening. n.o.body was around. But still-"Come on, darlin'. We need to hurry," he said, cupping his hand around her elbow and pulling her into a jog.

Her eyes moved to his curiously, but she fell into step. Once she had a rhythm, he sped up, keeping his hand cupped around her arm where possible, falling behind her when it wasn't, and always listening.

Chapter Five.

Eduard stared at Isabeta as she dropped to her knees, bowing her head, as she whispered in a shaking voice, "She is gone, my lord."

"Gone?" he rasped, his voice icy with his rage. "What do you mean-gone}"

The sounds of his boyhood home, France, still lingered in his voice as he spoke. Pacing around Isabeta, he trailed his fingers over her head as he murmured, "You know how important my daughter is to me. Where do you think she could have gone, Isabeta?"

From the door, somebody cleared a throat. Eduard lifted his furious eyes to stare at Mikhail, his second. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d had won the right by fighting in battle, destroying any and all who had opposed him. Eduard would have loved to have dispatched him, but to do that, he would have to have him killed. He doubted he had a man among his people strong enough.

"What do you want, Mikhail?" Eduard murmured, squeezing his hand painfully tight on Isabeta's neck. She made no sound, but he could feel the pain flowing through her. He breathed it in, like the fragrance of some rich wine, feeding on it as he stared into the cool, fearless gaze of his second.

"The wolf is gone, my lord," Mikhail said, his voice cold and mocking.

Nails bit into soft flesh, and the rich musk of vampire blood filled the air. Mikhail's eyes dropped to Isabeta's neck and then he flicked Eduard a glance, raising an eyebrow. Eduard looked down, seeing how his nails had cut through Isabeta's neck, creating deep gouges. He chuckled, slowly unlocking the death grip he had on her neck, lifting his hand and licking the blood from them. "How you managed to rise among the ranks, Mikhail, with a stomach as soft as yours, I will never know."

It was an old argument, decades old. Mikhail simply replied, "I do not see cruelty as the mark of a wise leader... my lord. Nor do I see the lack of it making one a soft leader."

Isabeta remained on her knees, and Eduard stroked his hand down her hair, eyeing the blood that flowed down her neck in deep, crimson red rivulets. Dropping to his knees, he licked away the blood, feeling her shudder, feeling the simultaneous desire and revulsion that coursed through her. She wanted him-she hated him-she feared him. It was a normal reaction among his females-servants, slaves, vampires alike. They despised him, one and all, yet they craved him almost as much.

"So where do you think my daughter and my wolf have disappeared to?" he murmured, savoring the last drops of blood, eyeing Mikhail over Isabeta's bowed head.

Mikhail laughed, a deep, rich laugh that echoed through the room, as he moved away from the door. "I have very little doubt about where they disappeared to. You should never have held the werewolf prisoner. Roman Montgomery is very much like his father. He doesn't back down. At all."

Eduard snorted. "That little b.a.s.t.a.r.d pup has no chance of getting into my lands without me knowing about it. He's nothing but a stupid boy," he snapped, shoving to his feet, using Isabeta as a crutch, uncaring that he shoved her to the floor as he rose. For one moment, though, he remembered that boy's eyes as Roman Montgomery stormed into his home, just a few years ago, demanding Eduard's a.s.sistance with the mad voudon priest.

And when they'd found Jacob Montgomery... already dead. Yes, very much like his father.

But he was young still, and foolish. Eduard had plenty of time to strengthen his ranks before Roman Montgomery became the threat Jacob had been.

Stepping over Isabeta's cowering form, he stalked up to Mikhail, staring into the cool blue eyes. "Why do you think he has her?"

Mikhail reached into the inner pocket of the black sports coat he wore, drawing out a folded piece of paper as he sardonically drawled, "Perhaps because he left a message to that effect?"

Eduard jerked it out of his hand, tearing it open. "Where did this come from?" he growled.

"One of the vessels brought it to me. Apparently a bald man who wore sungla.s.ses even as he moved through the bar brought it to her. She said he was quite the sinister fellow-or something to that effect," Mikhail said, lifting one shoulder in a negligent shrug.

It read:

Eduard, Your emissary was warned. By now, you already know what I told her. I can't believe you would be so stupid as to think I'd leave my brother in your hands for twenty years, over nothing. You should have released him.

You trespa.s.sed, taking the blood kin of the An Ri Mac Tire. Had he done injury on your lands, true injury, you may have been within your rights. But he did no injury, and well you know it. Temptation my a.s.s. I do not care if he had slit his wrists to the bone and paraded down Bourbon Street. It is your job to control your vampires. If they are weak and lacking willpower, that is your failing.

By now, you have noticed that something is missing. Or should I say someone? Your daughter is very lovely. Know that she will have much better treatment in the hands of Wolfclan than my brother did with the House of Capiet.

No Regards, Roman

His hand closed around the paper, crumpling it into a bail. "How dare he?"

Mikhail smirked, his mouth curved up at the corners, amus.e.m.e.nt dancing in his eyes as he moved across the room. The thick wine red of his hair was pulled back in a stubby ponytail that gleamed under the low lights as he knelt before Isabeta, using his hand to move her head around as he inspected the already-healing gouges on her neck. "My lord, if I may, he acted within his rights. You had no cause to take the pup. He was causing no harm and, indeed, saved two mortals from the rogues out of Alabama. Had those rogue vampires killed anybody within your lands, we would have been held responsible. He saved them, though he was not obligated to do any d.a.m.n thing."

"I shall do as I wish in my territory!" Eduard bellowed, whirling on Mikhail and stalking to him with the fires of h.e.l.l lighting his dark eyes.

Mikhail rose slowly, that same small smirk dancing on his lips, even as Isabeta whimpered in fear and scuttled away, keeping her eyes down. "You've always done so, my lord. This time, there were serious consequences."

"Serious-yes, f.u.c.king serious," Eduard purred, an evil smile lighting his eyes. "I'll have his b.l.o.o.d.y b.a.l.l.s served to me on a platter. And watch my darling daughter eat them, if she had a b.l.o.o.d.y thing to do with my wolf's disappearance. I wouldn't put it past her, the little b.i.t.c.h."

Brows drew down low over Mikhail's eyes, but Eduard didn't notice as he started to pace. "She may well have a.s.sisted him-I can see it. Ah, but ma pet.i.te amour shall have a surprise awaiting her when she comes home to her beloved pere."

"What, may I ask, are you planning?" Mikhail asked, in a studied tone of boredom. If Eduard had been focusing just a little less on his plans and more on his second, he might have seen the odd flicker in Mikhail's eyes.

"Hmmm. A race," Eduard whispered, his eyes gleaming. From the corner of his eyes he could see Isabeta crawling to the door, but for now, he was too focused on Julianna's treachery to care. She'd betrayed him, her father, and he knew it.

A hundred years ago, he could have whipped and beaten her b.l.o.o.d.y and tossed her to his men as punishment. But the Ancients had decreed too many of the old laws too brutal, and they had been abolished.

However... there were still a few laws... his eyes narrowed as a smile formed on his face. There was a way to punish the little b.i.t.c.h for this, and to get the offspring he wanted from her.

Spinning around, he stared at Mikhail. "I've seen how you look at Julianna. She, perhaps, is the one creature here you do not hold in contempt. Do you want her?"

Mikhail arched a brow that was shades darker than his deep red hair. One broad shoulder lifted in a shrug as he responded, "Julianna Capiet is as lovely a woman as I've ever seen. And she, unlike many others, doesn't tremble in fear when you speak. She is a very easy woman to want."

"Then you may have her. If you reach her first-and kill Roman Montgomery," Eduard purred. "I shall give you early warning. You may leave now, and if you are successful, Julianna is yours. I want more children of my blood from her. Be smart, and f.u.c.k her before you bring her back. That will save you the trouble of fighting some of the men who may wish to claim her, once I declare she is Blood Prize."

"That is a very archaic practice," Mikhail stated, his voice flat. "I prefer a woman to actually want me, not just be forced into my arms because I am the stronger."

Eduard sneered. "The ways of old are much more useful to me than modern thinking." He went to Isabeta-she froze in her tracks as she felt him approach.

Heat started to burn inside him as he studied her. Kneeling behind her, he jerked the long flowering skirt she wore to her waist and tore away the lace that covered her hips. She had almost made it to the door. Almost.

l.u.s.t flared in him, hot on the tails of his anger. Cupping his hands over her hips, he bent over her, using his weight to take her to the ground, her belly flat to the floor. He licked at the last bits of blood on her nearly healed neck before he flicked Mikhail a glance. "Well, are you leaving, batard? Or shall I let one of my other vampires claim her?"

Roman came to an abrupt halt on the threshold of his house. A tiny shudder moved through him. Turning, he pushed Julianna toward Jenner and said harshly, "Take her. Go to the sanctuary and be prepared to run. Take care of her and Steven, no matter what," he growled.

Jenner's brows rose and then his eyes narrowed. That large, powerful body tensed, and Roman knew d.a.m.ned well what was taking place in his canny mind. "Don't. That is an order, Jenner. Now go," he snarled.

There was power in the air. He didn't know who was there, but something, someone, was in his house that didn't belong. None had pursued them as they finished the journey home, but the hot, nervous tension that filled Roman never abated.

Prowling from room to room, he waited until he heard Jenner pulling away before he called out, "Whoever is in my house, I hope you're ready to get your hide shredded for trespa.s.sing."

There was a soft laugh. Familiar... Roman whirled, his eyes narrowing as a soft white apparition formed in front of him, solidifying until she was all but in his house. "May I enter, full and well, Roman, An Ri Mac Tire?" the Countess de LaReine asked laughingly.

LaReine, one of the highest Houses in the world, and one of the oldest. She served on the Chamber of the Ancients-speaking with her was speaking with the Chamber themselves. Roman felt dread move through him, and he wanted to pound his fist through something in sheer frustration. d.a.m.n it, he hadn't broken any laws! Slowly, he nodded, his jaw clenched as she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she stood there in the flesh, her midnight blue eyes sparkling with laughter. "I've broken no f.u.c.king laws, Madame. I was within my rights-"

"Oh, do stuff it, Roman. I'm aware of that," she said, strolling away, the long white gown floating around her body. Her voice was as s.e.xily French as she was, from her upswept hair, to the diamonds that dripped on her swanlike neck, to the designer gown that draped on her body. "I am not here to... ahh... criticize? Yes, criticize you, boy. Merely to warn you. The blood daughter of Capiet is in grave danger."

"I'm no threat to Julianna," Roman said stiffly.

She laughed, the sound as sweet as harp song. "No. You are her greatest protector, I imagine. But not the only. Many shall come hunting her, and quite soon." She paused by a stone carving of a wolf, his great maned head thrown back as he howled to the sky. Stroking her hand down it, she stared into the distance, her eyes growing distant and dark. "Her sanity could be torn apart."

Growling, Roman took a step forward, rage ripping through him. "What has Eduard done?"

The Countess said, her voice hollow and deep, "The blood children of a vampire are a great treasure. The woman even more than the man, because she can breed even more blood children, vampires born into the blood, who need only the Blood Kiss to bring them over, and they survive the change as so very few vestals do. But few of the blood daughters care to be used as breeding horses-so many of them fight it, as Julianna has fought. Ages ago, centuries, when a blood daughter refused to take a lover and beget more vampire children, she was cast out of the father's house, declared Blood Prize. Vampire, servant, and slave alike were given rein to chase her down and breed her. Whoever reached her first was the victor, although sometimes she found a protector, and to claim her, the protector must be killed as well. Once she was bred and the child born, the child would be taken, and she would be pa.s.sed on to another, and another." A sad, bitter smile curved her lips. "Is there something within the makeup of a blood daughter that makes her fight the path her vampire kin lay before her?"

The rage tore through him, vicious and hot, like acid in his blood. Whirling away from her, he closed his hands into tight fists-unsurprised when long, hooked claws tore into the flesh of his palms. His skin rippled like water, bones trying to force themselves into another pattern. He sucked in air, focusing on the mirror across the room, on his reflection. I will not change, he said silently.

He throttled his rage into control, if not submission, before he slowly turned and met the Countess's somber gaze. There was something odd in her eyes-remembered pain, shame. She spoke from experience, he realized. Sympathy welled in him, and the wild rage inside him died, bringing the rage of his animal slowly under control.

Something s.h.i.+fted in her eyes, and they once more became blank, empty pools of sapphire blue. The air seemed to chill as she watched him. Uh-oh, the lady didn't like to have anybody reading her quite so well.

She spun away on one elegant heel. "Lord Eduard has declared his daughter Blood Prize. His second, a vampire known as Mikhail, has already left New Orleans. The others will follow as soon as Eduard makes it known what he has done."

"I can handle the vampires," Roman said, his voice cold and deadly. "She will not be harmed."

The Countess's mouth moved in a lifeless smile. "She will be in danger unless she is already mated," she said quietly. "Mikhail will be here and then others. She has protectors while she is on your land, many of them I imagine, but unless they are willing to fight every male vampire, servant, and slave of the House of Capiet, they may as well not bother. Because all will seek her."

A pulse throbbed in his jaw as the gravity of her words sank home. "Mated by anybody?"

The Countess nodded. Roman was unaware of how closely she watched him as he started to pace. "The vampire, like the wolf, know when a woman has been claimed. If they see she has been claimed by the time they reach her, they will desist. Perhaps not immediately, and definitely not happily, but they will. Having her in your possession, your control, as they see it, isn't enough, though. She must be mated, or they will fight to steal her away. The one who is successful will rape her, repeatedly, until she conceives."

Roman spat out, "That is barbaric!"

The Countess sighed, and the entire stance of her body changed, from proud and arrogant to tired, broken. Sorrow laced heavily in her words as she replied, "Yes. It is. Many of the ancient laws are barbaric, Roman. The Chamber has done a great deal to destroy many of the older laws, but too many still exist. Many who still believe in the old laws are still alive and thriving. Not so many were as forward a thinker as your father. But to abolish all the old laws, those who still uphold them must be destroyed."