Microsoft Word - The Mammoth Book of Vampire Romance.doc (40 page)

There was no way for anyone to ascend to her position without challenging her. And Sarina, both as second and the ranking female of the clan, would select his bride, when Nikolai announced he was ready to take one.

Brides were culled from a select group of mortal women who were suited for the burden of being soulless and immortal.  Docile, doe-eyed, beautiful and worshipful women who would remain so throughout eternity, and who would never question their place or their purpose.

Katrina wasn’t one of those. Beautiful, yes, but not Sarina’s idea of beautiful. All Sarina’s  selections were the same. What did he do if he wanted to choose his own bride?

Meet me at the County Hall at midnight and I will tell you

what to do.

Kyle’s voice spoke in his mind, almost halting Nikolai as he entered the café where Katrina stood waiting with two mugs of a brown beverage with a white frothy top.

Oh, God a human drink. A
 
vile
 
human drink at that. And she

wondered why he didn’t date.

Nikolai dared a silent reply to Kyle.

But before he asked the question, the reply was there.

Of course you can bring her. In fact, it’s a good idea she

doesn’t leave your side until then.

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Nikolai was mystified and, for some reason afraid for himself. He hadn’t been frightened in a very long time. He was immortal. Why should he be afraid of anything?

Then he realized he wasn’t afraid for himself. He was afraid

for her. He was afraid of losing her.

Isn’t that being afraid for yourself
? Kyle’s voice asked in

his mind.

Go away, Betrayer!
 
Nikolai bit back silently.
 
I am on a

date!

Kyle’s laughter was faint in his mind, but it was there.

Wait!
 
Nikolai found himself shouting telepathically.
 
She is

offering me a mortal drink! What do I do?

Figure it out
, Destrati. Kyle’s voice was barely an amused

whisper, but Nikolai got the point.

He was on his own. He sat down on the barstool and

contemplated the drink for a long moment.

“You know, I am not really in the mood for coffee,” Nikolai

said, setting his mug back on the counter.

“Nor am I,” Katrina said, looking confusedly at her own  drink before  she set it beside Nikolai’s. “I don’t even drink  coffee. I don’t know why I thought to come in and order them.”

“Where are you staying?” Nikolai asked.

Katrina eyed him. “You move fast,” she said wryly.

If he’d been a true human, his cheeks would have flushed at

her insinuation. “I . . . I didn’t mean to imply . . .”

330

Katrina smiled and brought a hand to his cheek in comfort.  He looked so hurt, so suddenly crestfallen. His skin was soft and cool beneath her hand.

Her touch. How long had it been, since anyone, mortal or otherwise, had touched him for the sole reason of touching him?  Oh, there were always willing women (willing men too, to be honest, if one’s tastes ran to such, which Nikolai’s didn’t). But this was different. This touch was freely given.

Free will.

He closed his eyes, remembering what it was to have free

will. Free will came from the soul.

He didn’t even feel her move between his loosely parted knees, it was so effortless. His arms went around her waist as though he had held her every day of his existence.

Katrina’s hands cupped his face and slid into his hair. He tilted his chin up, enjoying her touch. Then she kissed him, sweet, hesitant and entirely chaste.

“Is this a parting?” he asked, opening his eyes to look at her

when she broke  the kiss almost as quickly as she’d begun it.

She nodded, unable to explain. She was with Dan and not about to go to some hot stranger’s place for a one-night stand.  This guy had ‘player’ written all over him and she’d almost gone for it. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t been, that’s what. One did the craziest things on vacation.

“I’m not,” he said suddenly.

Her brow furrowed. “Not what?” she asked.

“A ‘player’, he replied.

331

“I didn’t say that,” she protested immediately.

“You thought it,” he said.

“And you’ re a mind-reader?” She pulled away from him.

“Yes.”

“Then why did you bother asking me where I was staying?”

she asked, patronizingly.

He just looked at her. What kind of conversation was this?

“I was being polite,” he offered, almost hesitantly, as  though he didn’t know if that were the answer she wanted, but  the only way he knew to answer her.

She rolled her eyes at him and made to leave.

He caught her hand. “Please,” he found himself saying.

“Don’t go.”

She turned back to look at him, her eyes unsure and hurt.

Why was she upset? Was his truthfulness thought

dishonest? Was she afraid of him?

“It’s not like that, Katrina Francesca,” he said softly. “You  asked how I knew. Do you want me to lie to you, like you think  I’m doing anyway?”

Her eyes widened. How did he  –

“

–  know your middle name?” he finished for her.

332

Instead of waiting for her answer, he stood and looked down at her. He brought her hand to his chest and pressed it over his heart and gathered her close to him while he closed his eyes and murmured softly for a long moment.

She blinked rapidly to clear her vision. Everything was so foggy and she was suddenly cold. When she took in the sight before her, she gasped and took a step back from the railing she found herself pressed against.

It was Paris by night. They were on the topmost viewing

platform of the Eiffel Tower.

“Hotel!” she gasped insensibly. “The Tower Hotel!”

“Forgive me,” Nikolai said, though his tone held no  contrition. “My apologies. All I heard was ‘tower’,  and that’s  where you wanted to be. You have a fondness for France.”

She barely had time to take another breath before they were

back in London, in the dark shade of a pillar outside her hotel.

Nikolai’s hands rubbed her upper arms slowly. “Breathe,”

he  encouraged softly.

“That did not just happen,” she managed through her  shivers, trying in vain to control her violent shaking. “I drank  too much, or I slipped down those God-awful stairs at that  horrid bar or it’s all a dream. You’re certainly proof of that . . .”

“Oh? Now why would you think that?” he asked.

“Well, just look at you,” she said, stepping away from him a  couple of paces. “And look at me. You’re handsome, gorgeous.  And I’m  ”–

333

“Beautiful,” he interrupted with a smile. “That is what you

were  going to say, was it not?”

Katrina blushed. It wasn’t, but he knew that.  Didn’t he?

“Yes, I knew that,” he replied aloud. Nikolai’s eyes went to  the door of the hotel. “You will stay here tonight? With him?”  he asked.

Katrina nodded mutely, still stunned. Then she shook her

head, negating what she had just automatically confirmed.

“So you do know, and acknowledge,” he said quietly as he  slid a possessive arm around her waist, feeling something warm  him from within.

“I don’t believe in vampires,” she said stupidly.

“Truth does not require belief,” Nikolai replied, quoting an

oft-repeated ethereal adage.

“You have  –” she could hardly bring herself to use the word

“

–  fangs.”

“Yes.”

“And you drink blood? Live off it? Need it to continue to

live, or whatever?”

“There’s more to it, but yes.”

“Show me.”

Nikolai was taken aback at her demand. “Here?” he asked,

completely flustered.

334

“Well, where were you planning on doing so?” she asked.  “What were you doing in that bar, anyway? Go there often? Is  this a  nightly thing for you?”

“I came for you,” he replied, scowling. “I thought . . . I felt .

. .”

“Oh, come now, don’t fight, children,” Kyle’s voice came  from the shadows. His eyes pierced Nikolai’s. “Destrati. What  have you done to enrage your family? Come. Quickly now.”

Kyle barely glanced at them and suddenly they were both inside a large dark room. Oil lamps burned to illuminate it, casting long shadows on the elegant antique bed.

Nikolai was again in awe. Such effortlessness. Kyle displayed his power with such a natural ease. Nikolai had known he was formidable, but Kyle hadn’t even needed to touch either of hem to shift both him and Katrina at the same time.  Kyle had also accompanied them without even a hint of the effort it always took Nikolai  (and Nikolai was considered one of the best at manifestation). Such grace. He could rule . . .

“Do not even think it, Destrati.”

Kyle’s voice had gone flat and cold. Forbidding. Then he

smiled at Katrina.

“Welcome, lady,” he said, bringing her hand to his  lips.  “Please forgive all this confusion. The Destrati are ill-mannered  Nikolai will explain, I’m sure. Do so, won’t you, Nikolai, while  I see about your kinsmen that follow.”

Kyle was gone before Nikolai could reply.

Katrina just looked at Nikolai, unsure of where she was.

335

Words would not come. The only way he could think to

explain was with actions.

One hand slid to the back of her neck while the other pulled her closer to him by the waist. His thumb pressed gently into the side of her neck and, when  it moved almost of it’s own accord beneath his touch, he bent his head and kissed her throat.

Katrina shivered as her eyes slid shut.

Nikolai kissed her sensitive flesh once more before parting her lips with his tongue. He savoured the taste of her, enj oying her trembling.

Enjoyment. That too, had long been absent from his existence. He’d smiled more tonight than he had in a very long while, and another graced his lips before he found the pulse at her throat with his lips.

Katrina didn’t even feel the  bite. She knew he bit her though, and that he was drinking her blood, just like in a horror film. Why it didn’t disgust her she could not fathom. Instead of revulsion, she felt a deep sense of . . . pride. She was able to provide him with something he needed. She felt wanted and beautiful, unlike anything she’d ever felt before. She never wanted this feeling to end.

She buried her hands in his hair and held him closer, arching her back into his touch. She was beginning to feel weak and dizzy, but she didn’ t care.

“I care,” he murmured against the delicate flesh of her neck.  “I care so much, Katrina Francesca. You know that, don’t you?  Tell me you know. Tell me you feel it.”

336

She couldn’t think how to answer him. Thought itself seemed entirely too much effort. For the first time in her life,  Katrina was allowing something to just  . . .  happen.

And, oh God, did it feel amazing. Everything. Anything.

Anything he wanted, as long as it was just like this.

“You have to tell me,” he urged softly. “You have to say it.

Give me permission.”

Oh, God. Permission? Was he kidding? Oh, that was inexplicably hot somehow. Knowing he wouldn’t  –
 
couldn’t
 
–take this further without her permission.

Coherence returned somewhat. Her body was ablaze with a wanting she’d never  known before, not with anyone. She pulled back a little. She just had to look at him.

Tormented anguish was all she saw etched upon his gorgeous face. A tiny drop of red glistened at the corner of his mouth. Her hand moved to cup his cheek automatically.  She brushed the drop of her blood away with the pad of her thumb and met his eyes.

His arms tightened around her waist. Would she turn from

him in horror? When he wanted her so badly?

She put one hand to her throat. She touched her neck gingerly and then  brought her fingertips near the candlelight.  They, too glistened with blood.

She looked back at him. Her hand returned to stroke his face and he closed his eyes to shudder beneath her touch. He kissed her fingers as she brought them to his lips, taking the stain of blood from them contritely. Then he leaned down again and kissed the healing wound he’d made.

337

It was permission enough.