Inferno (11 page)

She slipped into it gratefully, though the thin material did little to hide the lines of her body or the sharp nipples poking at the cool fabric. These men had seen all she had and tasted it too. Just because she’d been under Duncan’s spell at the time, she couldn’t blame them for the necessary familiarity they now had with her body.

It was a good body. A half-
were
body. And
weres
were invariably well formed and attractive. It was a blessing of the genes. When they shifted, they ran, exercising more than the average person to hone strong, fit bodies and sleek muscles that translated well when they shifted back to human form. She had nothing to be ashamed of and everything to be proud of. She just wasn’t used to flaunting herself in front of men who’d given her the best orgasms of her life.

The situation was strange, to say the least. Oddly, she couldn’t work up any real outrage over it.

Just a little embarrassment. And that was a small price to pay for saving a Master vampire’s life and your own in the process. Megan figured she’d gotten off easy. She’d nearly killed Heath and her punishment—if it could be called that—had been the best sex of her life. So far. She didn’t know what Heath had planned for her the next evening when he was back to full strength. She hoped he’d let her go free after the way she’d given over control of her body to save his life.

He was a good man. He’d given her a hell of a climax, but she knew he’d enjoyed it too. A man didn’t come that hard without a lot of pleasure behind it. And after something like that, a man like Heath wouldn’t subject her to some arcane punishment for an act that had not been intentional on her part and totally out of her control.

She followed Hugh from the room with Dante at her side. He hadn’t spoken to her, but she expected he’d have something to say once they were alone. Duncan stayed behind to see to Heath’s comfort.

“The three of you will confine yourselves to this suite for the day,” Hugh said with great ceremony as he opened the door to a beautifully decorated suite of rooms on the second floor of the brownstone. There was a central sitting room with a couch and entertainment center, a small kitchenette that looked to be fully stocked and four other doors leading off from the main area.

“The doors lead to bedrooms and a bathroom. You’ll find everything you need within and all is sun-proofed for your convenience, Dante. No exterior windows.”

“Thank you,” Dante said to the other bloodletter. “This will be fine. I assume you’ll come for us tomorrow?”

Hugh nodded gravely. “The Mistress will most likely see you after you talk to Heath.” Hugh’s blue gaze slipped to Megan, and he stepped closer to her. “Don’t worry,” he unbent enough to say. “You transgressed, but you also did all in your power to fix it. Heath is not an unreasonable man, and his daughter is fair-minded as well.”

“Thank you,” she replied in a subdued voice.

“No,” Hugh took her hand, surprising her even further as he brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Thank you for sharing yourself with me. Your psychic energy is unlike anything I have ever tasted before. I’m not surprised Heath bit you out of hand. He can be rather impulsive like that.” Hugh’s eyes sparkled as the first smile she’d ever seen on his face tilted the corners of his lips.

He was a devastatingly handsome man when he smiled and the faint twang of an Australian accent made him too sexy to be believed. His brooding demeanor made her think he’d known tragedy in the past and her heart went out to him. Suddenly a little of her embarrassment faded.

She’d helped this dour man enough so that he could conjure a small smile for her. That was something, at least. A little ray of hope for a man who otherwise was the picture of sadness.

Hugh left without further discussion, leaving her alone with Dante. They hadn’t spoken since his tumultuous claiming after what had been the kinkiest sex act of her life. She hadn’t thought anything could top being stuffed with cock in every orifice, but Dante had taken her higher than even that amazing scene. He’d rocked her world off its axis, and it was still wobbling out of control.

Dante busied himself at the small wine cooler in the kitchenette, pouring a large glass of burgundy for himself before turning to Megan.

The moment of truth had arrived.

She fidgeted, fingering the hem of her borrowed robe. Dante’s eyes raked her from head to foot, remnants of fire in his eyes reigniting to flame low in the background while he sipped his wine.

“I’m sorry,” she began haltingly. She didn’t know what to say but felt responsibility for the night’s events settling squarely on her shoulders.

“It’s near dawn.” Dante sighed heavily, moving into the sitting area with his glass of wine. “No doubt we’ll talk this over in minute detail tomorrow. For now, I should probably apologize for taking you like a barbarian. In all honesty, I don’t understand what came over me.”

“It’s okay—” she began, but he forestalled her.

“I said I
should
apologize, not that I will. I’ll be damned if I’ll apologize for something that felt so good…so right. I’m only sorry if I hurt you, Megan.” He reached out with one hand to stroke her cheek as his gaze held hers. “Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

“No, you didn’t hurt me.” She was mesmerized by the tender yet militant light in his eyes.

“Actually, I kind of enjoyed it. I’ve never been able to be myself with a man before. Whatever Duncan did to me let the wolf howl and she really liked it, but she—and I—liked it most with you.”

“You’re not a foursome kind of girl?” His lips quirked up on one side in a teasing, lopsided grin. His casual manner said without words that he’d seen and done a lot in his centuries.

Somehow, that made her feel more comfortable about the whole evening.

“I’m afraid not. At least…” she teased right back, “…not on a regular basis.” She stepped closer to him, into his personal space. “I’m more of a one at a time kind of woman.”

“That’s good.” He trailed his hand through her long hair. “That’s real good, sweetheart, because I have a feeling we’re going to be doing a lot of one on one as soon as they let us out of here.”

“Do you think they will?” In a flash, worry returned. “I mean, do you think Heath will forgive me for poisoning him? And what will his daughter say? She’s the Mistress, right? So my punishment is up to her. Isn’t it?”

“Don’t worry,” Dante soothed her. “I think you more than made up for the tainted blood with what you did tonight. It’s not every woman who could nullify that kind of thing, even with Duncan’s help. We talked about it while you slept, and Duncan thinks it’s the purity of your heart that allowed the bespelled blood to be counteracted at all. That seemed to be proof enough for Heath, and he’ll square things with his daughter. They rule together, despite the title she wears.”

“I hope you’re right.” She chewed on her lower lip in worry.

Dante leaned down and did a little nibbling of his own, tempting her tongue out to play with his as he kissed the worry off her face.

Duncan came in a few minutes later and found them like that, locked in an embrace, mouth to mouth, Dante’s hands inside the open panels of the silk robe, cupping her breasts.

“Haven’t you had enough for one night?” He chastised them as he flopped down on the couch in full view of their activities. As Megan turned to look at the half-fey warrior, he winked, giving her an exaggerated once over as she pulled the robe together and retied the belt at her waist.

“How’s Heath?” Dante asked as he sank onto the overstuffed chair facing Duncan and pulled Megan onto his lap.

“He’ll be fine with a little rest. As will we all.”

Dante nodded. “Will you two be all right here today? They’ll no doubt lock us in, and I wouldn’t recommend trying to break out.” He tugged on her hand until she looked at him.

“I’ll be okay. I’ll probably sleep the day away and if not, there’s a television and some food in the kitchen to keep me occupied.”

“Good girl.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle.

“I’m probably going to sleep this off most of the day,” Duncan warned. “I need to replenish.”

“Thank you for what you did to make it easier for me, Duncan,” she said in a low voice as she met his eyes. “I don’t think I could have done…that…without you.” Duncan rose and came over to face her, lifting her to her feet, off Dante’s lap. “You’re a passionate woman, Megan. I’m not really sorry about what had to be done, only sorry there was no other way. I’ll remember your passion and generosity all my days.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek with a tender salute. “Thank you.”

He stepped away and headed for one of the bedrooms. Dante stood and led her to the doors on the other side of the sitting area.

“You’ll be all right?” he asked, holding her gaze.

She nodded. “I need sleep, then some sustenance. I’ll see you tonight.” He kissed her deeply before claiming one of the rooms for himself.

Megan took the room beside his, taking time for a long, hot shower before collapsing bonelessly into the soft mattress and silk sheets. She didn’t know anything again until just an hour before dusk. She rose, showered again and dressed in clothes that someone had laid out for her. A designer tracksuit that fit her well enough, though it had been designed for a taller woman. No doubt it was one of the Mistress’s. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, she thought as she examined the rich fabric and eyed the size. She dressed and made her way into the kitchenette to see what she could scrounge for dinner.

Duncan joined her at the small dinner table just before sunset and shared her meal. Dante arrived in the sitting room as they finished eating, joining them in a glass of wine after their meal while they waited for Hugh to show.

He collected them only moments later. Hugh spared a small smile for Megan, and she felt like she was making progress melting the ice that surrounded the stoic man. He led them to a plush living room on the ground floor. Heathclif was there before them and poured drinks for everyone.

When everyone had been served, silence reigned for a moment as everyone present stared at her. She started to fidget.

“What now?” Megan was afraid of the answer but knew the time to pay the piper had come.

“Now it’s time for answers.” Dante touched her face, guiding her gently to the couch in the living room. Duncan and Heath followed behind.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“Yes you will.” Duncan took the place next to her. “I’m giving you no choice, Megan. We must have the truth, and I’m going to bespell you to be certain we have it.” Fear raced through her heart. “I’m
were
. Magic doesn’t work on me.”

“Some does,” Duncan assured her. “The poison in your blood is proof of that. The magic I plan to use on you is not of this realm. It will work. I’m sorry. It has to be this way. What you’ve done is sanctionable by death under the bloodletters’ laws. You need to tell them everything you know, and they need to be certain it is the truth. Only then might you be able to avoid the ultimate penalty.”

“Oh Goddess!” She shrank into the cushions, trying to avoid the spell Duncan was weaving.

She could feel his magic rising around her, sparking off her exposed skin like static electricity. It grew in strength as tears gathered behind her eyes. She’d never been so frightened in all her life.

“This is interesting.” Duncan seemed to redouble his efforts. “She’s more resistant to my magic than any mortal I’ve ever encountered. Ah, so we finally discover another part of your heritage.” Duncan shifted closer and suddenly a door opened inside her. She was no longer in control. She was Duncan’s puppet, and she would do anything he asked.

The idea scared her to death, but she was powerless against his fey magic.

“Who was your intended target? Who were you sent to kill?”

“No one.” Her voice was raspy, as if her body fought every word. She felt compelled to speak by the force of his magic. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“You were sent here deliberately, were you not?” Duncan was relentless.

Slowly, she nodded. “I was sent to spy. Not to kill.”

The three men shared significant looks. “Who were you sent to spy on?”

“Dante.”

“What did your keepers want to know about him?”

“His habits, his friends, his allegiances. The usual stuff.”

“What else?” Duncan’s questions came like rapid fire.

“The mage. He wanted to know what happened to the mage.”

“Vabian?” Dante’s voice reached her from over Duncan’s shoulder.

“That was the name he said. Patrick Vabian. They lost him and want to know what happened.”

“Who sent you, Megan?” Duncan refocused her attention on him.

She felt as if she’d hit a brick wall. Duncan’s magic was compelling, but there was something stronger at work inside her, preventing her from speaking. The pain caused by the two clashing compulsions made her writhe in agony.

“I can’t!” she cried as fire leaped along her veins, burning her from inside out. “Please!”

“All right.” Duncan backed off that line of questioning. “Let’s examine your intentions. When you approached Dante in that nightclub, what was your intent?”

“To watch him. To see if I could get close to him.”

“So you could spy on him?”

“Yes.” The pain of conflict had eased, yet Duncan’s compulsion held strong.

“Did your keeper tell you to sleep with him?”

Anger boiled inside along with Duncan’s magic. “I refused. I told him I wouldn’t whore for anyone, and I meant it.”

“What was your keeper’s response?”

“He told me to offer my blood. He said shifter blood was a delicacy to vampires.” A significant look passed between the three men.

“And what did you think of that?”

“I didn’t like it, but I didn’t see any alternative.”

“Why? What compels you to do what they say?”

“The obligation. I’m the last of my line. I must finish the task and clear my family’s name.”

“The mark you carry on your thigh. Is that the mark of your family’s obligation?”

“Yes.”

“And the obligation is to the
Altor Custodis
?”