Blood Eternal (32 page)

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Authors: Marie Treanor

Tags: #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Paranormal

BOOK: Blood Eternal
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His dark eyes didn’t waver. “I enjoy everything about you.”
It was part of the alien “experience everything, value everything” philosophy of his people. It was weird, but when the outrageous words came from him, she almost understood them. Maybe the hunters were right about her enslavement. At that moment, she didn’t care. She wanted to kiss him, but made do with rubbing her cheek on his shoulder in a quick caress.
Dmitriu and Angyalka slid in beside them, one on either side.
Angyalka set down a tray of champagne and five glasses, and looked at Saloman. “He came here just to be your bodyguard?”
Saloman raised his eyebrows and reached across Elizabeth for the bottle. “Maximilian? If that’s what he said, it must be true.”
“Of course it’s not what he said. He doesn’t say anything. It’s what Dmitriu said.”
“Then of course it must be a lie.” Saloman began to pour champagne into the glasses.
Dmitriu hooted and stretched out his legs under the table, but Angyalka was not to be deflected. Leaning forward, she said, “This isn’t some perverse revenge of yours, is it, Saloman? You wouldn’t bring him here just to—”
“I didn’t bring him here at all,” Saloman said, putting down the bottle. “Apparently he came of his own volition.”
“Saloman, Maximilian more or less gave me this place, helped me make it safe. I can’t and won’t forget that. If you kill him—”
“What makes you think I have any intention of killing him?” Saloman interrupted, presenting Elizabeth with a glass of champagne.
“Oh, just the fact that he killed you!” Angyalka exclaimed. “You can’t expect me to believe you’ve forgiven him.
You
don’t forgive.” Although, distractedly, she curled her fingers around the glass Saloman gave her, she didn’t seem to be aware of it.
Saloman smiled and pushed the third glass toward Dmitriu.
Dmitriu said, “He does forgive.” Leaning forward, he picked up his glass and gave a slightly twisted smile. “I won’t say he forgets.”
Angyalka swung on him. “Do
you
?”
Dmitriu shrugged. “Neither. That isn’t important. We need him against Luk.”
“And because he came out for you in Scotland, you trust him.” Angyalka sat back, her gaze flickering between Dmitriu and Saloman. She seemed to make a decision. “Cheers,” she said, and drank.
Elizabeth looked around the room. “Where is he?” she asked curiously.
“Gone to block out the noise.” Dmitriu grinned. “He’ll be back when he’s, er, psyched himself up.”
“I love modern language,” Saloman murmured.
Angyalka, her most pressing concern apparently dealt with, turned her disturbing gaze on Elizabeth, who might have found it harder to cope with had she not already grown used to Saloman’s.
“Welcome to the Angel, Dr. Silk.”
“Thank you.” What else could she say?
“The last time you so honored us, there was a little . . . contretemps.”
“I haven’t invited the hunters this time.”
“They seem to have decided to leave me alone,” Angyalka observed.
Elizabeth searched her curious, unreadable eyes. Was she fishing for information? What was the correct response for the hunters’ friend? For Saloman’s companion? Elizabeth drew in her breath. “I believe they will, so long as your own current rules are followed.”
Saloman set down his glass. “However, it may be that you’re forced to, er, relax your rules, at least on a temporary basis. And even admit the hunters.”
Angyalka’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Luk. He’s planning some major attack that will strike more at my prestige than at my existence. I don’t know where that will be, but the Angel, given my support of it and your loyalty, is one possibility.”
Angyalka groaned. “I knew as soon as I saw you sit down in here a year ago that my peace was over, one way or another.”
“But they’ve already been here,” Elizabeth pointed out. “They’ve already proven they can walk in when they like.”
“The same with your palace,” Dmitriu added. “Which would be the obvious choice.”
Angyalka’s lips fell apart. “They broke into your house?”
Saloman shrugged. “Luk did. He was making a point. I’m surprised you didn’t know already. He won’t do it again.”
“What about your offices?” Elizabeth suggested. “Adam Simon’s businesses?”
“They would be easy targets,” Saloman allowed. “But I can’t see their destruction impressing vampires.” He picked up his glass once more. “For now, I think our best hope is for me to reach Dante again and discover the rest.” His gaze drifted beyond his companions, to the dance floor and the stage, where the band was now playing a slower and marginally softer ballad.
“Elizabeth.” Amber flame sparked in his black eyes. “Would you care to dance?”
Since Angyalka promptly stood up to let her through, it would have been churlish to refuse. She didn’t
want
to refuse, except for the opaque stares of the vampires boring into her back as she walked beside Saloman onto the dance floor. In fact, she suspected the stares pierced more than her back; they were coming from all over the club.
Saloman turned and drew her into his arms quite naturally. Despite her mental discomfort, her body reacted from pure instinct, fitting itself to his as they began to sway together to the music. Elizabeth gave up caring about the stares, disapproving or otherwise. There was only Saloman and the delicious excitement of his powerful arms around her, and his erection growing against her abdomen.
His lips nuzzled her ear. “So how does it feel without the fear?” he murmured.
She couldn’t help smiling. “Weird. And strangely
right
. But then, it felt right the last time too—that’s what scared me most.”
“It was very exciting, each of us pretending, playing a game to trap the other. And yet . . . not. I wanted you so very badly, and I knew you would be worth waiting for.”
She caught his hair in her fingers and tugged until she could see into his face. “And am I? Still?”
“Still,” he agreed. The smile on his lips began to die. The half-amused, half-aroused glint in his eyes altered subtly, confusing her. “I will not lose you, Elizabeth Silk. Not to the suspicions sown by your friends and my enemy. If you can bear what’s inside me, I will show you.”
A frown tugged at her brow, even as her heart beat harder. “To keep me?” she whispered, unsure whether it was awe or disapproval that choked her voice. “Or because you want to?”
“Questions, questions.” His fingers tangled in her hair, gently pulling. His lips parted to speak and then closed. His body pressed closer into hers with something akin to desperation. At last he said, “I couldn’t bear to lose you through something I hadn’t done. If knowing me kills your love, then that is different.”
The music played on, raw, emotional. Elizabeth held his face in both hands. “Saloman . . . You don’t believe my love is real. You think it’s an illusion. You think I don’t know you already.”
“You know you don’t.”
“Learning the layers,” she whispered, “is part of the love.” Reaching up, she kissed his mouth, achingly, as if the kiss could convey what words could not: her fear that she had too few layers to hold so ancient a being, her realization of his, that he had too many.
I’m not afraid,
she told him.
I want all you can give.
His mouth hardened on hers, deepening the sensuality of the kiss.
You want everything. Except eternity. I know that; I’ve always known that.
She gasped into his mouth.
You never asked.
Her mind spoke without permission, blurting more than she would have shown of accusation and hurt.
Rejection is never good for a relationship.
She broke the kiss, somewhere between a sob and laughter. “Why are we having this conversation here?”
“Because it came up,” said Saloman, rubbing suggestively against her. She pressed her hips into him, glorying now in the lust as well as the awed exultation of her discovery. He wanted more. He wanted
her
, for eternity.
The music stopped. Around them, the dancers cheered and applauded as the band members took their final bows and left the stage. Her gaze still locked to his, she slowly laid her head on his chest. One arm dropped away from her; the other moved her forward off the dance floor and back toward their table.
 
Maximilian was glad to get away from the noise. On the roof of the Angel, he could at least hear himself think. He had been isolated too long to be comfortable in crowds, even when they contained old friends and those he’d once loved.
For many years, he’d had little to do but perfect his masking techniques and scan for danger. It was second nature to do it now, gazing over the city that might not have been his hometown but nevertheless brought back too many memories. Blotting out the vampire presences in the building below, he concentrated on the rest. It was still a city of vampires, their signatures dotted here and there on both sides of the river. And one close by.
Skirting the glass dome that formed the centerpiece of the club, he gazed across the roofs until he found what he’d sought. Another lone vampire, masked as strongly as he. Had he not been so close, he’d never have seen him at all. And there was something odd about this mask; it didn’t seem to come from the vampire himself.
And considering he was watching the Angel, there seemed to be only one explanation for that. He was one of Luk’s followers.
To speak to him telepathically would be to lower his mask, and he wasn’t yet ready to do that. So he did it the old-fashioned way.
In seconds, he startled the watcher by appearing at his shoulder.
“Hello. I hear your master is looking for recruits to defeat Saloman. Do you think he’d find me of any use?”
 
Angyalka and Dmitriu had vanished from the table. Neither was there any sign of Maximilian. Perhaps he’d simply gone home.
Saloman looked thoughtful as he raised his half-drunk champagne. “Your friend Mihaela spoke a lot about trust—to both of us. Not surprisingly. We have not always had the same aims. Do we now?”
A trifle bewildered by his sudden turn from the profoundly emotional to the practical, Elizabeth dragged her thoughts into some kind of order.
“Mutual cooperation,” she said at last. “Yes. Revelation of the vampire world to humans . . . Yes, if it were done in such a way that would avoid panic and chaos. There has to be honesty if we live together. But it isn’t something that could happen overnight, probably not even in my lifetime. I’m prepared to help make a start, if we do it in agreement with the hunters.”
Watching her, Saloman drank.
Elizabeth said, “I realize this wasn’t your original agenda.”
“Revenge and world domination. I’ve had my fill of one—for the moment—and I haven’t given up the latter. You’ve just convinced me to do it in a different way.”
Elizabeth frowned. “That wasn’t quite what I meant by ‘cooperation.’ ”
“I know. But it would never be a partnership of equals, would it? I have both the power and the experience.”
“And we have the numbers.”
Saloman sat back, a smile shimmering in his dark eyes. “I think I said once that I needed you to make me happy. But your role was always meant to be more, wasn’t it? You can make me palatable to humanity.”
Elizabeth picked up her glass and sipped, regarding him over the rim. “And I can make you behave.”
Please, God . . .
“I think I might enjoy that,” Saloman said softly. “I wonder if that’s what Luk saw in his vision?”
“What vision?”
“The one that distracted him and gave me the chance to throw him back out the window. He saw something then involving you and me. He called you the missing piece.”
“Missing from what?” Elizabeth demanded.
“Who knows?
He
probably doesn’t anymore. The visions were largely what disturbed his sanity in the first place, and it was one involving me that turned him against me.”
“Did he ever tell you what it was?”
Saloman shook his head. “No. As far as I know, he never told anyone. Which normally meant he hadn’t worked out exactly what a vision signified, if anything. In this case, I suspect he’d deduced that I was some kind of threat, either to him or to the world. But his mind was failing by then, and since he no longer trusted me, I couldn’t help him interpret whatever it was he saw. I’ve had to guess from his behavior, which was jealousy of every tiny power I gained, and of Tsigana, of course.”
“Perhaps he foresaw
this
,” Elizabeth said lightly. “That you and I—
I
, not Tsigana, being ‘the missing piece’—would defeat him here in Budapest.”
Saloman smiled faintly. “Maybe.” He regarded her with unexpected seriousness. “Actually, that isn’t so farfetched. But I suspect there are conflicting visions—one that made him jealous of me and one that curtailed my power.”

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