Until the Sun Falls from the Sky (4 page)

Relax, my pet.
He spoke again,
also in my head
.

Leave me alone!
I shouted, yes, yet again, in my head.

I heard his laughter not with my ears. It was even more beautiful than Stephanie’s. It was so beautiful, it was enthralling. And it wasn’t just amused laughter, it sounded slightly surprised, slightly expectant, even, I could sense, slightly aroused.

What in
the
hell?

“I can hear it,” Stephanie said softly, tearing me with a start from my nonverbal conversation. “And see it,” she went on and I stared at her. “He’s marked your every movement. Even the slightest movement you’ve made, Leah, he’s marked it. His heart is beating in tandem with yours exactly. Everyone knows, every vampire here that is, they can all hear it, see it, sense it.” Her voice went softer, turning reverential. “Nobody can do that like Lucien. It’s beautiful.”

She wasn’t talking about him speaking in my head. She was explaining what tracking meant.

Still, I was stuck on another point.

“His heart is beating?” I asked her.

She nodded on another smile. “You’ve got lots to learn, honey.”

I was so shocked at this news I forgot that a vampire across a crowded room was speaking in my head.

“Vampires’ hearts don’t beat,” I told Stephanie stupidly, since she was one, she should know.

“Oh yes they do. You’ll see,” she sing-songed, grabbing my hand and moving me around, heading in the direction of Lucien. “I don’t know what he’s playing at but enough’s enough. I’m hungry.”

She was moving us toward Lucien.

No. Really, really,
no
.

I dragged my feet and hissed, “What are you doing?”

She didn’t answer my question, instead she said, “I figure he’s showing you off. It’s his way which is normally quite interesting but right now it’s annoying. I’m tired of playing bodyguard. Again, no offense but I want to get to Reed tonight.” Her fingers gave my arm an affectionate squeeze and her strength didn’t allow me to drag my feet, powering me ever forward.

I tugged at my arm. Her fingers gave me another squeeze, this one different, telling me I would not get away.

I tried something different. “Listen, Stephanie, I don’t want to be selected tonight.”

“No chance of that,” she told me happily as she drew me ever closer.

I stopped talking when I looked at Lucien. His eyes were again locked on me, marking me, as Stephanie said and finally, I got it.

They were possessive, declaring ownership, bottom line, I was his. I could see this even from a distance.

I could even
sense
it.

Others watched, swinging their gazes between him and me.

My heart started beating even faster as the people he was standing with noticed our approach and stepped aside, clearing a path to him.

No! No, no, no, no!
My mind shouted, my eyes again locked on his.

Yes,
he said in my head.

Seriously, stop doing that!
My brain yelled at him.

I heard another chuckle in my head.

I scowled at him.

He burst out laughing, this time not in my head but out loud.

This was, to all those around him, for no apparent reason and they stared at him, stunned. But I knew the reason.

My scowl was joined by my nose wrinkling in irritation.

He shook his head, a smile still tugging at his beautiful mouth.

Stephanie brought me to a halt right in front of him.

He was taller than he seemed from a distance, bigger, more powerful, completely overwhelming. He made me feel small.

I wasn’t small, not by any stretch of the imagination. I was five foot nine, over six foot in my blood red shoes. I wore a c-cup bra. My ass was my nemesis, it always had been. It was completely impervious to every diet known to man.

Your normal, average, every day guy couldn’t pick me up, not for more than a couple of seconds anyway.

This man, even if he wasn’t a vampire, could have done it. No doubt.

I felt fragile in the face of him. Breakable. Delicate.

All conversation in the room had again died.

The entire room was silent. Everyone was watching.

I opened my mouth to say something, likely something foolish, when Stephanie spoke.

“Lucien –” she began, her voice impatient.

He cut her off, eyes locked on mine, he didn’t lead into it, he didn’t even say “hello”.

Instead, his deep, strong, throaty voice announced loudly, “I declare my intentions.”

Oh shit.

“Thank you, God,” my mother breathed happily from behind me.

The Contract

“Get out,” Lucien growled.

This was not going well and he didn’t like it.

Leah glared at him.

Her mother, Lydia, stared in horror, at her daughter’s behavior or Lucien’s break with tradition he didn’t know. He also didn’t care.

Cosmo, who had been smiling until the moment Lucien growled, now frowned with concern.

Avery stepped forward. “Lucien, you know the law. You need consent. Your second must be present as must the Uninitiated’s Distinguished. Even
you
can’t –” Avery started.

Lucien lifted a hand and Avery ceased speaking.

He knew. He’d been fucking well living the nightmare for five hundred years. He bloody well knew.

This was also something about which he didn’t care.

“Go,” Lucien ground out.

“Lucien, don’t do this,” Cosmo implored.

Lucien lowered his voice to a dangerous rumble. “Now.”

There was a hesitation before Avery, as ever, played diplomat.

Glancing at the occupants of the room, Avery said on a whisper, “There’s a way. No one need know, Cosmo. This doesn’t leave this room.”

“I don’t like it,” Cosmo replied to Avery.

“Lucien, let me talk to her,” Lydia pleaded, her hand coming toward him.

“I will not say it again,” Lucien snarled.

With that, they knew they’d tried his patience, they knew what that meant and without further hesitation all of them moved to leave.

Including Leah.

“Not you,” he demanded and everyone turned.

“What?” Leah asked, her soft, sweet voice grating on his nerves.

“Not you. You stay.”

Her eyes darted to her mother, Cosmo, Avery then back to Lucien. “But I thought –”

“Come over here,” Lucien ordered, cutting off her words as the others quickly and silently left the room.

She didn’t do as he’d commanded. Instead, she looked at the closed door in confusion.

In fact, since she’d stepped foot in the Contract Room she hadn’t done a single thing that he’d commanded.

It wasn’t just her voice that was grating on his nerves, everything about her was.

He’d expected to enjoy this. He hadn’t had a challenge in five hundred years.

He wasn’t enjoying this.

“Leah,” he called, his voice as strained as his patience.

Her head snapped around. “What?” she asked sharply.

He felt his body go taut fighting back the desire to teach her the respect he was owed.

Instead of acting on this urge, he warned quietly, “Don’t
ever
speak to me that way.”

She stared at him, confusion warring with fear in her face, another look he hadn’t seen in a long time. A look he liked, a look he missed, a look he craved.

This appeased his anger. Not all of it, but enough.

“I don’t get it,” she said, the same fear and confusion in her voice and he felt it stir his blood.

Especially the fear.

Every concubine itched to be selected. This served a purpose but it also eradicated the chase, the capture, the taming.

All of which Lucien also liked, missed and most assuredly craved.

Her fear was as delicious as her face, her hair, her eyes, her breasts, that ass, her fucking
scent
which had practically brought him to his knees the minute he’d entered The Selection and caught it.

As it had done the first time he saw her, smelled her, years ago, after which he’d marked Leah Buchanan as his. Everyone knew it, they had for decades.

Except, of course, Leah.

She kept talking. “I thought if I refused to blood your contract that I was free to go.”

Lucien pulled in a calming breath.

It failed to calm him however his voice sounded less impatient when he explained, “If Nestor had declared his intention. Yes. Magnus. Yes. Hamish. The same. Any one of them,” he paused, gesturing to the door with his hand to indicate The Selection before he finished, “Me? No.”

“Why not you?” she asked.

“Because I want you.”

“But I don’t want you.”

“That doesn’t matter. You’re mine.”

She blinked then rallied, “But, Mom said the rules are absolute. No one breaks them. Ever.”

“I’m not no one.”

Her head jerked with surprise. “Who are you?”

“I’m your Master.”

Now she started to look angry. “No one is my master.”

“I am.”

She stared at him, anger displacing the fear, her hands balled into fists and she leaned toward him before she declared, “You. Are.
Not
.”

He’d had enough.

Come here, Leah.

Instantly she moved to him. Lucien watched as the anger disappeared and the confusion came back.

So did the fear. A great deal of it.

So much the room reeked of it. It mingled with her scent. He had the forbidden desire to snatch her in his arms, rip open her throat at the same time he ripped off her clothes and buried his cock in her so deep, he’d feel his own thrusts as her blood poured into his mouth.

“Stop doing that,” she whispered as she halted less than a foot from him.

Silence,
he demanded and her mouth clamped shut.
Better,
he told her. She glared at him, her hands again fists at her sides but she didn’t move away from him. She was straining to do it but she couldn’t. He wasn’t allowing it.

It didn’t matter, she fought it. He liked that.

Give me your hand.

She lifted her hand to his and watched it move, horror and anger in her eyes.

He turned, his fingers curling around the sharp dagger which was one of four things on the shining, oval table next to him.

There was also their contract, as big as a poster board, ivory parchment, tiny calligraphied words from the very top to near the bottom. There was only an inch of space for their signatures. All if it were words declaring her blood his, giving him feeding rights and in return he’d take care of her, not through the length of The Arrangement but until she took her last breath on this earth.

What she did not know, Cosmo did not know, her mother did not know but Avery
did
know was that Lucien had the five hundred year old agreement altered.

Upon entry to the room, she’d sat and read every word, something not one single concubine he’d selected in five hundred years had done. She had no way of knowing the changes he’d ordered Avery to make or she wouldn’t until she attended her studies. He’d planned for that and was prepared for the consequences.

Nevertheless, or likely because, after she finished reading it, her face pale, her eyes seething, she tossed it on the table, caught Lucien’s gaze and announced, “Not on your life.”

Thus had started Lucien’s demands, her mother’s pleading, Cosmo’s chuckles and Avery’s grins.

Not to mention Lucien’s irritation.

Also on the table were the quill and the Joining Bowl, a small, oval, crystal plate that sat on four tiny crystal feet by the quill.

Both of which, Lucien decided, they would be using now.

Lucien’s hand lifted to hers and his fingers wrapped around it. He forced her index finger straight and she fought that too. She knew she’d never win but she did it anyway.

He was, he found, finally enjoying this. “Keep fighting, my pet, I like it.”

She stopped struggling immediately.

He grinned at her. She scowled at him.

He lifted the dagger to pierce her finger but stopped and looked at her. Her eyes flew from her finger to his.

He could see the pleading.

Yes, he was enjoying this.

He dropped the dagger on the table.

He felt her relief hit the room. Her heart had started beating wildly, tripping over itself. Now it began to slow.

His eyes moved to hers as he lifted her hand toward his mouth, finger still forced to extended by his thumb.