Calling for a Miracle [The Order of Vampyres 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (28 page)

Eyes wide, she snapped, “It is common courtesy to announce one’s self before barging in on a female.” He looked at her and her face burned with embarrassment. She felt as if he could see right through her hands covering her body. She looked to the toilet and wondered if she should snag the towel sitting there to cover her more appropriately.

“I did announce myself.”

“And then you entered before I invited you in!” He shook his head as if her aversion to being seen while bathing was completely ridiculous. “Would you please turn around, Bishop?” He slowly turned and Larissa did not miss the way that his lip twitched as if he wanted to laugh at her.

“I have decided it is late and we would be better leaving tomorrow. Today was taxing for both of us and I would rather not return to the farm until certain things are better…prepared for.”

“That’s fine, Bishop. Now could you please leave,” she answered in a quick, clipped tone.

“You know, Larissa, as your mate, I will not allow walls between us. You must grow comfortable with your body. While I prefer modesty around others, when it is just the two of us I would prefer openness. You need not be shy around me.”

Her heart began to race. Although he was no longer looking at her, she felt as if he could see her discomfort. She knew he could sense it. She slid lower in the tub, wishing the water was a touch warmer. “Understood. Now please go.”

To her outrage he slowly turned and faced her. “When you are finished in here, we are going to address a few things.” Then he left. The door quietly clicked shut behind him. Larissa pressed her face into her palms and moaned.

A few minutes later, Larissa was cursing herself for only bringing a towel into the bathroom with her. No doubt the bishop was sitting right there in her den, waiting for her to emerge. She shifted from foot to foot, debating what to do. Should she simply walk out and move directly to her bedroom to dress or perhaps wait to see if he fell asleep. She jumped when she heard him on the opposite side of the door.

“Is there something you need, Larissa?”

She pressed her forehead into the wooden door. “I seem to have forgotten my clothing, Bishop King.”
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
She heard him chuckle. Although she adored the open femininity of which English women were permitted to dress, around the bishop she could not help but regress to her Amish modesties. While she could bare herself to a room full of mortal strangers, there was something frightening about showing even a speck of intimate flesh to her powerful and immortal leader. She felt it best to constantly remind herself of what he was capable of. The bishop was not a man often told no.

“Would you please…be so kind as to bring me my robe?”

She heard his footsteps as he walked down the hall to her bedroom and then heavy footfalls approaching as he returned. When he did not announce himself again she tentatively said, “Bishop?”

“Is it too much to ask that you say my name, Larissa?”

She shut her eyes. Never would she survive eternity with a man she found so intimidating. Softly she whispered, “Eleazar.”

She stepped back as he opened the door. He simply stood in the hall, waiting, her robe held open for her in his arms. Her face burned. Was it his goal in life to humiliate her every way possible? She hesitated a moment and he cocked an eyebrow at her.

Slowly, Larissa stepped out of the bathroom. Holding her towel tight to her body she maneuvered first one arm and then the other through the billowy sleeves of the robe. Eleazar’s warm breath fanned over the back of her neck, tickling the fine wisps of hair that had slipped from her clip and gotten damp from her bath.

Before she could draw her arms together, the bishop reached around her body and loosened the towel, sending it to the floor in an unceremonious heap. She shivered as he slowly ran the backs of his knuckles down the slope of her breast. Before she could protest his touch, he reached for the lapels of the robe and drew them together. He then carefully knotted the belt around her waist and placed a kiss to the back of her neck.

She felt dizzy and warm. She stepped away from his hold and faced him, but was careful to keep her gaze lowered to the floor. “Thank…thank you,” she stuttered.

His fingers tipped up her chin until she looked into his eyes. “No walls, Larissa. Now come, let us talk.”

She watched his tall, broad form move down the hall and slowly pressed a cool hand to her overheated cheek. What was this effect he had on her? On wobbly legs she followed him, all too aware of her nudity under the robe. She was suddenly missing her Amish gowns very much.

Rather than meet him in the den where he sat waiting, she detoured to the kitchen and pulled a mug down from the cabinet. Unable to forget her manners, she asked, “Would you care for a cup of tea, Bish—Eleazar?”

“Tea would be lovely.”

She took her time heating the kettle and steeping the tea, waiting for her nerves to settle. It was not that he frightened her as if he would harm her. It was just that she did not trust herself around him. He made her incredibly aware of the fact that she was female and he was male.

She watched him as she spooned a bit of sugar into her cup. He was much taller than Silus. She much preferred his scent to her husband’s as well. His darker skin showed traces of his European roots. She had heard that he was originally from Spain, but spent much of his youth in other parts of Europe. She wasn’t sure how he had come to America other than that he arrived on
The
Charming Nancy
with the rest of the elders.

His hair was thick and a glossy shade of black. He usually wore it combed back, but since he had arrived, it seemed a little less severely styled. Her fingers tingled at the memory of feeling those soft strands between her fingers. She liked that he wore it short rather than long like many of the other elders.

Larissa stirred her tea and pursed her lips. He was much older than she. He must think of her as a little girl, inexperienced and still a bit foolish about the ways of the world. Larissa knew she was sometimes naive, but she suddenly felt more self-conscious for being so. He had said he was happy with God’s choice, but surely he would have preferred someone closer to his own age. She could not imagine the things he had seen in his lifetime. For Larissa, she had only truly gotten a glimpse of the outside world in the past few months.

With shaky hands, Larissa carefully carried the steaming mugs to the den. She placed Eleazar’s on the table and held hers as she settled into the chair across from him and waited for him to begin the discussion he was so set on having.

He sipped his tea and thanked her. When he placed it back on the table he sighed. “I have been thinking about your predicament, Larissa. Once we return I will inform the council of our situation and have the paperwork drawn up to annul your marriage. I will not inform Silus until his signature is required, however I have no doubt he will be quite anxious to see you once we return.”

She looked down and considered the many ways Silus could welcome her home. None were pleasant.

“He will not harm you, Larissa. If you wish it, I will not allow him to even speak to you until he signs the paperwork and accepts that you are no longer his wife.”

“He will be outraged.”

“No doubt.” His brow crinkled slightly. “Why is it that you do not assert yourself more around him?”

She scoffed. “I beg your pardon?”

“I do not mean to offend you. Perhaps I phrased that wrong. What I meant is, I have been on the receiving end of your power. It is quite impressive. For the most part, I hold the records of every discipline possessed by every member of The Order. Silus does not have any notable gifts. I am merely wondering how it is, that in a year of marriage, how you have never…asserted your power over him.”

“I have no power over Silus.”

“Of course you do. You possess great strength. If you can cripple me, a male ten times your age, surely you could affect Silus.”

She shook her head. Her gifts had always consisted of the basic disciplines. Compulsion, speed, agility, rapid healing. Never had she displayed an aptitude for any other powers. “What I did to you was a fluke. I think it was actually more your doing than my own. Never in my life have I ever done something like that, nor do I believe I could do it again if I wanted to.”

He frowned, his black eyes moving as if he were thinking through a complicated arithmetic formula. “Try to push into my mind now.”

“I can’t.”

“Try.”

She focused on his dark eyes and pushed. She could feel no opening in his mind. Her shoulders slumped and she let out a breath. “It is not possible.”

He tilted his head. “Now I am going to try to come into your mind. I want you to focus on keeping me out.”

She adjusted herself more into her seat and shut her eyes. She felt the flicker of his presence in her mind and forced down a wall guarding her thoughts. When the bishop gave a sharp hiss, she opened her eyes and looked at him. He shook his head. “You are strong, Larissa.”

“I don’t know how I am doing that.”

“The harder I pushed, the harder you pushed back. There is no one on the farm who can keep me out if I want into their minds, yet you can.”

“I swear it is not always so. Even little Gracie can break into my thoughts at times.”

“I believe you. It is something we will play with to try to understand better.”

“I am sorry.”

His brows pulled low over his eyes in a fierce scowl. “Why should you be sorry?”

“I…I don’t know. I…you wanted to see my thoughts and I disobeyed you.”

“They are your thoughts, Larissa. If you do not wish to share them, that is your choice. It does not matter who is asking permission. You have every right to say no.”

She looked down at her lap and fidgeted with the long tie of her robe. When he did not say anything for several minutes she looked up and caught him watching her with a peculiar expression on his face. He cleared his throat and leaned forward to pick up his tea. After taking a sip, he replaced the mug and continued.

“I need to know if you plan on fighting me about our situation.”

“Fighting you?”

“Yes. I would like to know now if I should be prepared for a battle of wills once we return to the farm.”

“You’re my bishop—”

“That is irrelevant. I am first and foremost your mate and as such, it is my personal duty to protect you. I need to know if you intend on opposing me as I decide how we will proceed.”

What was he asking? As her mate, soon-to-be husband, he of course would have complete authority to decide for their family. She had no right to oppose him on any decision. “I do not understand.”

“I want to know that I can depend on you once we arrive. I will be speaking on your behalf and I do not wish to misrepresent you.”

“I am sure whatever you decide will be appropriate.”

“That is not what I am asking. I am asking if you will agree with my decisions. I am asking for your point of view.”