To Have: Vampire Assassin League #19 (4 page)

“Hey. Your Highness. How’s it going? This is Nigel. You know. Young. Handsome. Suave. Eligible. Damn. Why did I have to add eligible? I was on a roll.”

“Ah. Pipsqueak.”

Daron watched his mate walk down the carpeted length of the room. The heavy silk of her
chador
accompanied each step, clinging minutely to one side of her buttocks, before doing the same to the other. He started trailing her, and hadn’t even given the order to his feet.

“Pipsqueak? Again? That’s it. I am going to get a fake beard. A really expensive one. Then nobody will be calling me names.”

Akron’s voice interrupted.

“Nigel? Could you transfer the call please? We don’t have all day. Well. Actually we do, but I don’t like wasting airtime and cell phones unnecessarily.”

“Yes, Sir. As you wish, Sir. I’ve reached Prince Daron. Just as you requested. And I don’t know why you worried. He sounds fine. Oh. Wait. He has his mate. Of course, he’s fine.”

Akron gave a heavy sigh. It rumbled through the speaker beside his ear. Daron moved the cell out a fraction.

“Nigel. I need you to focus here. We called the prince for a reason.”

“Oh. Yeah. We wanted to check on him. You still there, Your Highness?”

“Yes,” Daron answered. He wasn’t truly paying attention. His mate had reached the raised section of floor that held his throne. The dais. And then she’d climbed the three steps and was running a hand along the solid gold trim of his chair. Without one word of permission. As much as that should offend, the way her clothing molded and followed every movement was creating havoc that overrode and cancelled out just about everything but desire and interest.

“Prince Daron?”

“Uh...Sir?”

“You are probably wondering why I am calling.”

“Am I in danger?” Daron asked.

“You’ll have to answer that question, I’m afraid.”

“Does everyone speak riddles today? Oh no. No. Wait. You mustn’t.”

His mate was sitting in the throne! He watched with his mouth open as she settled her buttocks onto the cushion. It wasn’t possible. That act of impiety would have seen her whipped if this was truly Ecbatana Palace. He would have had to order it. He watched her put her hands on the chair arms. And then she looked across and down at where he was standing as if daring him to say something. Daron had to turn his head to keep his expression hidden. He should be horrified. Shocked. Appalled. He was everything but. He’d actually never seen anything so...intriguing. Stimulating. His rod was giving him all sorts of trouble over it. This mating thing was definitely a curse.

“Sounds like I’m barely in time. Daron?”

“It’s my mate, Sir.”

“Problems?”

“She is very annoyed at me.”

“Really?”

“And I haven’t even offered her the position of Great Wife yet.”

“Ah. Good. Timing is everything.”

“Whoa. Hang on a second, here. Did I just hear what I think I heard?”

“I believe so, Nigel. And it’s not surprising. The position was a great honor. It was also called First Wife, if I’m not mistaken. The operative word I am using here, gentlemen, is
was,
in the event you both missed it.”

“What the—? How many wives does he get?”

“His father had seven, Nigel. Perhaps more.”

“Seven wives? Wow. How lucky can he be?”

“Nigel. Focus here. We called to assist the prince, not add to his dilemma.”

“He has a dilemma? Like what? Which wife is assigned which day of the week?”

Akron sighed again. Daron was really having trouble following the conversation. It was his fault. He’d turned back to his mate. She was making little twirling motions about the molded images of lion’s heads on the armrests of his chair with her fingers. It had an erotic look to it. She had her lips pursed in a kissable fashion while she did it. And then she winked. And damn everything. He pulsed in place. He jerked his head away.

“Let me explain, gentlemen. Listen up. We only get one mate in this endless existence of ours. One. And that’s if we’re very lucky. Don’t interrupt me, Nigel. This is not about you. It’s about His Highness. Daron? You don’t need to ask any woman to be your Great Wife, because we only get
one
wife. And since your mate is from New Jersey, you are very lucky we called before you insulted her with that particular offer.”

“Oh.”

“Now. Want to tell us what else you’ve done?”

“She is angered over my harem, as well.”

“What? He gets a harem, too? Holy bat balls.”

“Bat balls?” Akron asked.

“I am trying to be original, Sir. It’s not easy.”

“I see.”

“So. What do you say, Sir? I’ve been thinking. I really need some time in the field. And I have a great eye for women. I could help the prince. He could use a discerning eye like mine. I mean, I know exactly what he needs for his harem.”

“Nigel.”

“Nobody should get a harem around here without my input. That needs to be in the rules somewhere. Come on, Sir. Unbend just a little. I’m single. And unattached. And pretty much dead. I could even be one of his palace harem guards.”

“And do what, please?”

“Watch them.”

“Watch them do what, please?”

“I don’t know. Cavort naked in the fountains. Water nymph things.”

“Ah. And then what?”

“Then I’d help them dry off. What else?”

“You’re missing the point, Nigel.”

“Oh. I wouldn’t be missing much, Sir.”

“Nigel. Women are not mindless entities.”

“I never said they were, Sir. I mean, look at our female associates. They’d have my head if they heard this. That’s why I’d help the prince select mortal woman.”

“Really? So. Enlighten me. What would you have the harem of mortal women do with their time once they got tired of cavorting about naked in the fountains? Knit?”

“Uh...”

“And then there’s the other issue, Nigel. Women do tend to age. What happens to your water nymphs, then?”

“Oh. Water buffalo bollocks. Thanks for that mental picture, Sir. I take back everything I said. You don’t need a harem, Prince Daron. Ugh. Saggy boobs everywhere. I’m going to have nightmares now.”

“This call has reached time limit. We’ll call you right back, Daron.”

The phone went dead.

“You finish your call, did you?”

Daron glanced in his mate’s direction again. And immediately got snagged. She had the most stunning eyes. Even from this distance. Every bit of her called to him.

“Uh. No.”

“No?”

“They ran out of time. They will call me back.”

“Really? Sounds like you have a pretty crappy cell plan. You might want to swap providers.”

“What?”

“You know...you are really cute, Your Highness. Very cute. I might be persuaded to give you back a half point just for the view.”

She smiled. Daron’s heart swooped oddly. Another phone went off at his hip, startling him. He jumped. And she laughed.
Ah
. That laugh of hers could overtake entire countries. He fumbled with the phone and had to look away in order to get beneath his robe and find his pocket. He had never considered the throne chair as a backdrop for anything other than ceremony. Right now, that chair, with her in it, was adding all kinds of fuel where he least needed it.

“I suppose you’re going to answer that?”

“Yes.”

“Well. Don’t let me stop you.”

She moved a hand and slid it down the front of her
chador
, cleaving an opening that showed she wasn’t wearing much of a bodice. She was also giving him a very good look at a perfect, sun-kissed throat. The hint of perfect breasts. Daron was shaking. He almost dropped the phone. And she found that even more amusing.

“What?” he barked into the phone when he got it open.

“Ah. Interesting greeting. Care to explain?”

“I just got a half point back. She will probably deduct it now.”

Akron laughed. The phone trembled with the volume of it. Daron glared at it for a moment. It wasn’t remotely funny.

“I see. She’s using the sliding scale with you. How far have you dropped?”

“Seven. No. Seven-point-five.”

“Good. It’s not too late, then.”

“When is too late?”

“Depends on the lady involved. I would say five in your case. Nigel? You listening still?”

“Like I’d miss this. I don’t even care what LizBeth might be planning.”

“Good. Maybe I can facilitate wisdom with two of you at the same time. So. Fire up the internet, Nigel. Type the name Evelyn Warner in the search bar. Wait there.”

“What am I waiting for?”

“Is there any quantifier you can give us before we search, Daron? Something your mate might have let slip? Something in her past, perhaps?”

“She was the runner-up for something...let me think. Oh, yes. Miss Raritan Canal Days.”

“Very good. Add that after her name, Nigel.”

“You’re being very mysterious, Sir.”

“I don’t want the screen filled with images of the explosion at the Rocking Horse. Which is what will happen if you search for her name. This is an object lesson. They work best if there’s an impact statement at the beginning. You may press enter now.”

“Holy creamed doughnut farts.”

“What?”

“I already told you, Sir, I am trying to be original...and I’m surprised anything came out of my mouth. Have you seen this woman?”

“What woman?” Daron asked.

“Your mate. She’s a beauty queen, and I am almost speechless. She has legs that go all the way to the floor, a toned torso, really nice boobs, and she can rock a bikini from here to Barbados. I swear. You have hooked up with a solid twelve here.”

Daron growled.

“Nigel. You may not want to be so effusive with the description. It could tend to be dangerous to your health.”

“She’s crossing a stage in an itty-bitty bikini and high heels. And there’s not a spot of cellulite anywhere on those gams. Wait. I can get this on video.”

“Nigel. Please remember, I did warn you.”

“About what? How is looking at this goddess going to do anything other than caress my eyeballs?”

“Oh...I’m going to say that the prince does not appreciate hearing you describe his mate. It’s a primal thing. Call it...jealously. And if you continue along this vein, I may not even stop him from putting a Persian scimitar through you.”

“You wouldn’t save me?”

“Oh. You’d survive. Lesson learned. Unless you’ll mute your enthusiasm for Miss Warner’s charms before that happens?”

“Point taken, Sir. But I have to ask. If he’s got this woman as a mate, what the heck does he want with any other wives? Or a harem?”

“Ah. Excellent question, Nigel. I do believe you are learning. Why don’t you ask that of His Highness. Daron?”

“How come she’s a twelve?” Daron replied. “She told me a ten was perfect. I do not understand.”

Akron sighed again, just as loudly. “Well. One out of two isn’t bad, although I usually have better results. Try not to sink to a five, Daron. It will be easier.”

And he hung up. Daron looked uncomprehending at the cell phone for several moments, trying to digest what he’d just heard. And failing.

His call must have ended. Evie watched him look at the phone for a bit, and then he pitched it at a column. The phone shattered on impact, making a loud crash. She jumped.

And then Prince Daron tipped his head toward her. He had his chin lowered and was glaring toward her. She didn’t know what that expression meant. He had an uncanny ability to do something with his eyes. She watched as they flashed, looking like sunlight hitting on a mirror. And a whoosh of heat went through her breast. Her breath caught. Her knees melted.
Heavens!
She could swoon at the look he was giving her, and thoroughly enjoy the drop.

It was ridiculous. It still happened. Her entire body felt as if a bolt of lightning had speared it and was still sending crackling noises as it dissipated. The next second he was right at the bottom step, looking up. This time the sensation was even more transcendent. It was enormous. Almost frightening. She’d never felt anything like it. He sent a haze into existence that reached out and enfolded. The pad on this chair must have ridges sewn into it, too. They were creating an erotic sensation against her buttocks.

And the look he was giving her could easily get him rocketed right back to a nine. Maybe, even a nine-point-five. The guy exuded sexual magnetism. It should be photographed, spray-painted on billboards, and marketed. Somebody would make a fortune.

“Evelyn,” he said.

Wow
. Her name had never sounded quite like that. She lifted her eyebrows. Goosebumps rippled over her skin. She didn’t think her voice would work.

“Yes?”

Cripes. She’d been right. Her voice was missing. It was his fault. It had to be.

“I have done everything wrong.”

He took a step up the platform, making him level with her gaze. Her entire frame reacted. Evie moved a hand to her bosom, trying to absorb the palpitations her heart was experiencing. He acted as if he
knew
it, too. One eyebrow lifted. He almost looked to be wearing eyeliner, but that was ridiculous. He just had such amazing eyes! The smallest smile touched his lips, too. She’d never noticed how perfectly kissable his lips looked, either.

Good night. She was turning into a wanton here.

“I hope you can forgive me.”

“Forgive...you?”

There was a distinct pause between the words. Oh. It was definitely his fault. He’d taken another step toward her. He loomed larger, encompassing more of the space; taking up more of the available air. His eyes were hammered silver. Deep. Mysterious. Impossible to look away from. Something strange was happening here. Something...magical.

“It has been so long. I lost my head. My reason. I may have lost everything that matters.”

“Um.” It wasn’t an answer. It was barely intelligible as a word.

“I’m not at all sure...I retained it, actually.”

He took another step, looming right above her, and that was too much gorgeous male in her field of view. Or she was more overcome than she knew. He was definitely leaning toward a ten on her scale. And then some.

“Retained...what?”

His eyes were incredibly hypnotic. Mesmeric. A shade of silver that had an ice-blue tint. He had amazing eyes. Stunning eyes. Eyes that sucked her right in and then held her.

“What matters. It isn’t power. Or palaces. Or position.”

“Um.”

Crap. She really needed to find a vocabulary here. It should be embarrassing. It wasn’t. The atmosphere around them was alive with something. A chasm of emotion. A river of tension. A field of sensual existence. And his eyes were starting to glow. Evie licked her lips.

“Your eyes, are they all right?”

He smiled. It put his perfect kissable lips on display. But something looked slightly weird, as well. She would have broken her stare with him and dropped her glance to verify it, but she didn’t quite dare.

“I usually have better command of it. Wait.”

His eyes flashed again and then altered. Right before her eyes. Evie was wide-eyed as she watched the silver finish change back to his ice-blue shade. And his pupils looked enormous.

“Command...of what?”

“Everything. But I am not a man of words. I am a man of action.” He took the final step, and then he went to his knees, placing him at her eye level.

“Command of...what?” she asked again, although the last word was a whisper.

She shook herself mentally. And then she did it physically. She felt like she was just coming awake. Or something stranger. It was like she hadn’t been entirely controlling her body...or her mind. And then she recognized it. She’d felt this way before. During a hypnotist’s session on weight reduction that her mother had sent her to when she reached puberty.

“Purgatory sure is strange,” Evie commented.

“You are not in purgatory.”

“How do you know? You’re probably not even Christian.”

“Most religions have a state between life and final destination. You are right. I followed Zoroastrianism. It wouldn’t matter. You are not in purgatory but
pairi-daeza,
my love.”

“I have to be. Nothing else makes sense. And—what did you just call me?”

His smiled widened. Something was really strange about his smile. She couldn’t quite place it, even if she wasn’t mesmerized in place this time.

“You heard me correctly, Evie. You are my love. That is what
eshq-e man
means.”

She shook her head.

He put a hand out, palm up. “Here. Take my hand.”

“Why?” Evie looked from his hand to his face and back again.

“So I can cease speaking, and start showing. Take my hand. Please?”

“Um...” She swallowed.

“The mate bond is very strong,
eshq-e man
. It is an undeniable force. A power beyond time. A
pairi-daeza
beyond description. Few receive it. Few deserve to. I do not know by what right I gained it. I only know that I have. I was wrong. I only had a harem because palaces have them. I do not need one. I do not need all this space. I do not need anything...except you.”

His eyes flashed again. Evie caught her breath and then she gave him her hand.

Everything went crazy. The world rocked, her chair became loose sand that kept shifting, and a bolt of light and sound and heat shot through the room. Or something close. It lifted strands of her hair before joining with a large rush of air that pulsed outward from them, swaying columns, and extinguishing light after light until the room became a huge hollow space illuminated by the throne dais where Daron knelt, and she somehow, still sat.

Nothing about the experience was painful, either. It was the opposite. Evie had never felt such bliss. Thrill. Amazement.

Daron was gripping her hand, arched backwards, and the deepest howl was emanating from him. It launched out into the darkness about them before returning in throbs of sound that echoed and re-echoed with a bestial sound. Primal. Electrifying. Far from frightening her, it added more excitement to the mix, elevating absolutely everything. Her heart ramped into hard heavy beats within her ribcage, her breath came in gasps, her eyes were wide. She was glued to the sight as he finished his cry, straightened, and faced her again. That’s when she noted what was weird with his mouth. Everything stalled for the longest moment. Evie stared at long, spiked,
holy-shit-those-can’t-be-real
...fangs.

Fangs?

He said something. She didn’t hear it over the loud, swooshing sound of water running through both ears. Her eyes couldn’t seem to move, either. Not even to blink. This wasn’t possible. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t prudent. Why was she rooted in place, while shivers ran her flesh? Those shivers weren’t remotely unpleasant, either. It felt like her skin had developed a rash and he was the cure. The salve. The necessary unguent.

And she wanted more.

Her move connected them. She slid from the chair right onto his thighs. Her arms wrapped about his neck, her fingers delved through his hair, grasping strands, so she could hold. And it was her mouth meeting his, her lips sucking at his, her tongue meshing with his. Tangling. Melding. She didn’t need to hear the moan that surged through them. It resonated through their chests, whether from his throat or hers. Or a combination.

A prick of pain slipped through her consciousness. Had he bitten her? But before she could give the question any thought, the most incredible sensation overcame her. It came in waves, washing over her. Possessing her. Claiming her. Akin to having warmed oil poured onto her nakedness. Warm. Scented. Perfect.

“
Eshq-e man.
”

The word accompanied his lips as he slid them from her mouth, along her chin, to the pulse point on her throat, sending more shivers racing from wherever he touched. Evie gasped. And felt him stabbing into her neck. Liquid ecstasy erupted from the spot. Erasing this existence and then overwriting it.

She might as well have wings. Corporeal existence dimmed to be replaced with fantasy. Desire. Dreams. She could have sworn they were flying, nearly touching the obscene height of the ceiling before descending. And through it all, the intense pleasure emitting from her neck just kept pulsing.

They landed somewhere with a bounce. Evie’s back met softness. Luxury. And support. She’d lost her cloak
.
Her sandals. Her senses.
Wait
. She still possessed the latter. She slit an eye open to view about an acre of dark-shaded satin. And still Daron sent bliss atop bliss with whatever he was doing to her neck.

“Where...are we?”

Evie had to swallow to get her voice to work. It also removed the suction from her neck. And it immediately felt like loss. Physically. And emotionally. She had an insane urge to weep. She focused on the sensation of his tongue on her skin, instead. Sending impulses as he kissed. Adored. Laved. He shifted to his knees before her. The structure swayed as he tossed his robe off, chucking it somewhere behind him. He wore another one beneath the first. He shoved that from his shoulders, too. And then he yanked a long tunic shirt over his head, to send it onto the pile of clothing behind him somewhere.

...and
holy shit
.

She couldn’t believe she’d had him down to a seven-point-five. With his physique, she should have started at fifteen. Prince Daron was lean. Very ripped. And absolutely fascinating. Evie knew better. She should do something. Get her condom packet.
No. Wait
. She’d left it in the harem place.

She’d left a lot back there.

Common sense. Reality. Rationale. Logic.

None of that helped when she was facing...what was the foreign word he’d used? The one that didn’t need a translation?
Oh Yes
.
Pairi-daeza.
Paradise. It was exactly that. She was being hastened into a paradise that contained warmth. Sensual need. Highly addictive craving. Desire. And want. She thirsted, and he was liquid nourishment. She sought breath, and he was air. The passion-imbued aura surrounding them was reality. It even had a color. Red-hot, fading to gold. Necessary.

She watched her own hand reach for his abs. And it was shaking.