Lynn Viehl - [Darkyn 08 - Lords of the Darkyn 01] (36 page)

Santon
: A small, hand-painted clay figurine used to portray various characters in Nativity scenes

Seize
: Sixteen

S’il vous plaît
: Please

Sud
: South

Trente
: Thirty

Vous désirez
: Can I help you?

Read on for a preview of

Nightbred
by Lynn Viehl

Available from Signet
in December 2012.

“S

o Richard offers rule of Ireland in exchange for some lost baubles. If I’d known that was the sole requirement, I’d never have crossed the pond.” Lucan rolled up the summons Jamys Durand had given him and passed it to Burke. “I thank you for delivering it. Shall I have young Chris drive you back to the airport?”

Jamys hesitated. To remain in South Florida long enough to search for the Emeralds of Eternity, he would have to request permission for an extended visit. Lucan would want to know why, and if he told him the truth, it would probably result in a call to Thierry Durand. The moment Jamys’s father discovered his son had joined the quest for the lost gems, he would order him back to North Carolina.

A warm hand touched the back of his. “With your permission, Suzerain, Lord Durand would like to stay for a few days,” Christian Lang said. “He’s been looking forward to spending some time with you and your lady and his friends among the household.”

“Has he?” Lucan eyed the girl.

Jamys hid his surprise and inclined his head in agreement.

“Still having trouble getting the words out?” A glimmer of sympathy warmed the suzerain’s silvery eyes. “Well, we’ve plenty of mortals around the place to help you with that. Chris, since you’re already acquainted with Jamys, you can look after him while he’s here.” He rose from his chair. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go collect my
sygkenis
before she spends the whole of the night filling out police forms in triplicate.”

“My lord, perhaps you should text her first,” Burke said as he followed Lucan out of the room.

At last Jamys was alone with Chris, and he turned his hand to catch hers as he projected his thoughts.
What have they done to you?

“Done? Nothing.” She lowered her voice before she added, “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have jumped in like that, but I got the feeling you didn’t want to play twenty questions.”

I don’t mean that.
He looked at her dark brown hair, which she wore in a sleek twist, and then all over her face, which had been made up with sheer, neutral cosmetics but no longer sported any piercings. The only jewelry she wore, in fact, was two blue pearl studs in her ears and a short, matching strand around her throat.
Why do you look like this?

She glanced down at the front of her tailored navy blue suit. “This is what I wear to work.” Her lips curved in an impersonal smile as she extracted her hand from his. “Would you like a tour of the stronghold? The suzerain has made quite a few changes since your last visit.”

Jamys had no interest in going anywhere until Chris gave him some answers. Somehow during the three years they had been apart, Lucan and his
sygkenis
had turned the rebellious, fiercely loyal girl he had known into this polite, cool stranger. If he had not imprinted her features so deeply in his memory, he might not even have recognized her.

“If you’d rather have someone else assigned to you, I can ask Mr. Burke who’s available,” Chris was saying, this time without the smile. “You just have to let me know what sort of girl you’d like. There’s a very pretty woman who runs our property management office downtown. She’s a blonde. We also have a redhead who manages the restaurant Lucan just bought over on Las Olas—”

“No.” He held up his hand to stop her. “You. I want you.”

The words came out too rough, like the growl of an animal, but he had not used his voice to speak in so long, it was already beginning to fail him. He wanted to touch Chris again, and this time channel his thoughts into hers, to make her understand that he had come back in order to win her. Given the force of his emotions, however, doing so would also have triggered his talent, which made any mortal in his presence think or do or say anything Jamys wished.

He wanted Chris in every way he could have her, and under the influence of his talent, she would give herself to him completely. For as long as they were together, she would even believe it was her idea.

Nothing had ever tempted him more than the prospect of using his talent to command Chris’s affection and passion. Back at his father’s stronghold, he had often thought of it, and in the dark corners of his heart, he knew himself capable of it. He wanted her that much. But to turn this bright and beautiful girl into his personal puppet would have been a horrendous transgression—one that would render meaningless everything he felt for her.

If Chris came to him, it had to be without his coercion. He wouldn’t have her any other way but willingly.

“You sound tired.” Chris reached out to him, but when he stepped aside to prevent the physical contact, she snatched her hand back. “I’m sorry. I…I should show you to your rooms now.”

Chris had hidden from everyone her feelings for Jamys, but to cope with the loneliness she’d been forced to put her dreams and desires on ice. Now she wanted to throw herself at him, and cling to him, and tell him how hard it had been to train and wait and hope. She wanted him to know it was all for him. Everything.

And the moment she did that, he would gently set her aside, call for Burke and have the blonde from downtown or the redhead from the restaurant take her place.

She had to get out of the suite and away from him, now, before she made a complete ninny out of herself. What hadn’t she told him about the rooms? “The blinds are on a timer, and close automatically thirty minutes before sunrise. They don’t open again until thirty minutes after sunset.” She squared her shoulders and walked over to show him the manual pulls hidden inside the end panels. “The windows on this floor are sealed, but the transoms open if you want some fresh air. The doors also lock automatically, so you’ll need to carry this access card with you.”

She reached into her jacket to retrieve the one she’d programmed for him. Pain made her hiss as the shard of broken glass in her pocket sliced across her fingertips.

“Excuse me.” She kept her hand in her pocket and hurried into the adjoining bathroom.

Chris held her bleeding hand over the frost blue bowl of glass that served as the sink, and winced as cold water from the automatic tap washed over the open cuts. Because the Kyn healed spontaneously she hadn’t thought to stock the suite with a first-aid kit; she’d have to wrap some tissue around her hand until she could get back downstairs.

“You’re wounded.”

The rough whisper of his voice across the bare back of her neck made her close her eyes briefly. Jamys knew she was hurt because he smelled the fresh blood; the Kyn were almost like sharks that way.

“I cut myself on a piece of glass I had in my pocket.” She reached for the box of tissues, but Jamys had her bleeding hand in his and was examining the small wounds. “It’s nothing.”

His eyes shifted to hers, and she saw a thin ring of glowing amber encircling his pupils, which had begun to contract to thin vertical slivers.
Why did you wish to hide it from me? Did you think I would feed on you?

The force of his thoughts pouring into her mind shocked her into honesty. “No. I was embarrassed because I was clumsy.” From the look he gave her, it was clear that he didn’t believe her. “I’ve been assigned to you, my lord, and I’m trained to take care of your needs. If you want the blood, I’ll go get a glass.”

Jamys kept his eyes on hers as he slowly lifted her injured hand to his mouth. His
dents acérées
flashed for a moment before he sank them into heel of his own hand.

Chris caught her breath as he raised his head. Two drops of blood beaded in the small puncture wounds that were already beginning to close. “What are you doing?”

Jamys guided one of her hurt fingers to his palm, and gently pressed the cut into the blood. Chris caught her breath as she felt the cool mingling of his blood with hers, and then her cut went numb. He repeated the act again with her other finger, and then used a tissue to blot the blood away.

Chris saw that both of her cuts had closed, just as fast as the punctures in his palm. “Jamys?”

You are not my food, Christian, nor are you my servant.
He put his hand to the back of her head, holding it as he pressed a kiss to her brow.
You are my friend.

“Friendship works for me.” No, it didn’t, but he wasn’t asking for someone else. At least he still liked her. “Your eyes are doing the cat thing, though, and I know that means you haven’t fed for a while. Or you want to have wild monkey sex. Or both.” Had she actually said that out loud? God, she had. “I’ll, um, go make a glass of bloodwine for you.”

I have no desire to have sex with a wild monkey.
Jamys removed the long comb holding her hair back and placed it on the counter. As the twist slumped against her nape, he worked his hand through it, releasing the wavy mass.
The last time I saw you, your hair was scarlet.

“Mud brown is what I was born with.” She knew with her hair down she looked about sixteen, too. “I stopped dyeing it after you left.”

His finger stilled as he found the one hair pin she wore to keep her silver streak out of sight.

“That’s not dyed, either,” she admitted. “I started going gray in high school.”

You should not conceal it.
He spread the strands out.
It does not make you look older. It is beautiful.

“I don’t think anyone but Lady Gaga agrees with you.” As he brought the silvery lock to his lips, Chris forgot to breathe. “You’re kissing my hair.”

It feels like gossamer.
He smoothed it back and looked all over her face.
Your piercings are gone.

“No one takes you seriously when you wear rings in your eyebrow, so I let them close up.” Absently she touched a tiny scar on the curve of her lip, and then she understood why he hadn’t recognized her at first. “You were expecting me to look the way I did three years ago?”

That is how you were in my memories.
He touched each place where she had been pierced, and when he reached her lip, he ran his thumb back and forth over the small dimple.
Now you seem so different.

“I’m not the same girl I was. I grew up. Everyone does, even if they’re Kyn and they don’t age. You’ve changed, too.” She eyed the black hair spilling over his shoulders. “You’ve nailed the ponytail look, I think, but how did you get all this new muscle?”

Suddenly he looked tired and unhappy.
I have also been in training.

What was wrong with him? Was she being too much of a pest? Was he sick of her already? “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

He turned his head as a three-tone chime sounded.
What is that?

“Someone’s at the door. Probably Burke.” Chris sighed. “He worries.”

She didn’t find Burke waiting in hall; instead, one of the visiting Kyn stood outside the suite. As soon as Chris opened the door, the strong scent of almonds wafted over her, and she had to swallow a groan. It was the same troublemaker who had started the brawl in the armory.

Why is he on this floor?
“May I help you, sir?”

“There ye are, Pearl Girl.” His lips peeled back from his white teeth and fully emerged fangs. “The bald one said ye were occupied, but I suspected if I tracked ye, I’d find ye alone.” He swiped at her wrist and then frowned when she moved out of reach. “Come, I would have ye before the night wanes away.”

Have me?
No Darkyn male had ever come after her demanding blood or sex, and for a second, she wanted to slap him. But Burke had warned her that European Kyn did things differently; evidently they expected to help themselves to the household humans. Lucan would have no problem with her refusing him, but he would expect her to do so without turning it into an international immortal incident.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not available to serve you tonight.”
Or for the rest of eternity, you pretentious ape.
“I’ll be happy to call down to Mr. Burke—”

“I want no other.” He gave her the once-over and breathed in. “Not been taken tonight, then? Be they blind in this stronghold? Never worry. I’ll put ye to good use.” He crossed the threshold and, when she backed away, leered at her. “No need to play shy, Pearl Girl. I know how it is with ye household wenches.” He stopped advancing and frowned past her. “What is this?”

She glanced over her shoulder to see Jamys just behind her, his eyes glowing, his expression as lethal as the long copper blades in his fists. “This would be the reason I’m not available, sir.”

F
ROM
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EW
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ORK
T
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BESTSELLING AUTHOR

LYNN VIEHL

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