Vampire Assassin League Bundle 4 - Eternity (36 page)

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Authors: Jackie Ivie

Tags: #vampire romance, #vampire anthology, #vampire assassin league, #vampire short stories, #vampire novella, #vampire series

BOOK: Vampire Assassin League Bundle 4 - Eternity
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“You asked...why I was placed on the rack. The charge was heresy.”

The look she gave him, the set of her jaw...well. They looked pretty argumentative. And stubborn. She also tipped her head just slightly to the side before speaking. He’d been right about the argumentative.

“Oh. You have to do better than that, mister.”

“With what?”

He wasn’t pretending the confusion. Not only wasn’t she making sense, but he was having a difficult time concentrating. He was too new at this and the continual sight of so much skin was beyond tempting. He fought to keep his gaze on her face and ignore everything else.

“The next thing you’ll say is you were charged with blasphemy.”

“Oh. Yes. That too, actually.”

“Come on, Lucien. Everyone got hit with heresy and blasphemy. Those were catch-all reasons. I want to know
exactly
what you did. Exactly. I mean, were you weaving spells? Drawing graffiti? Causing a riot in the congregation during services? What?”

His lip lifted. She was quite amusing. “I wouldn’t stay silent.”

“Not good enough. I’m going to guess that’s part of the blasphemy bit. What did you really do?”

His smile fell. “Why do you want to know?”

“I have my reasons.”

She shrugged. It lifted her bosom. Lucien rocked, his nostrils flared, eyes widened, his buttocks tightened. His cock wasn’t fond of the shove he gave it, either. It pulsed against his palms, in little twinges. And this was ridiculous. He couldn’t be craving his mate again, could he?

So soon? Truly? Shouldn’t satiation last longer than this? And who was he supposed to ask? The object of his issue? Oh no. Not Ashley. She was giving him too much attention now. Anymore and he’d be begging for a repeat. Was this normal? Or did the vampire side make it this...urgent? Desired? Necessary? He’d spent so much time on mental acuity, he was unsure and confused about this physical reaction. That was what made his voice tremble. But maybe she wouldn’t notice.

“I found sponsors for his treatise
Magia Mathematica.
I made certain it was printed and distributed. I wrote petitions. Ceaselessly. I worked tirelessly at trying to gain his release from prison. Seven years of trying.”


Magia Mathematica?
Isn’t that like...a spell book? Nearly impossible to find? And the only known copies are in Latin? Wait. Do you have a copy?”

She craned her neck and looked over at the half of his table that was still standing. That just put all of her in perfect display and right in his line of sight.

Lucien straightened. That was a mistake. He couldn’t cover and hide his excitement as it was. If she chanced a glance down, she’d know it. If they weren’t sitting atop his robe, he’d be gathering it into his lap. He barely had time to look innocent again as she turned back at him.

“Well?”

“Uh...what did you ask again?”

Lucien had to say it, and then he had to concentrate on holding her gaze as she set her mouth and narrowed her eyes slightly. Even that look sent all kinds of signals his loins didn’t have any trouble receiving. If he could flush, he was flushing. And when she spoke, it was with perfectly enunciated words, as if he was having trouble with hearing and understanding, and not mired in testosterone quicksand.

“Do you have a copy of Bruno’s manuscript entitled Mathematical Magic?”

“Oh. Yes. But I also have the original,” he answered.

Her mouth dropped open. It matched her eyes. And then she jiggled as if with excitement. And her breasts bounced with it.

“Holy shit,” she told him.

She could say that again. His fangs were even betraying him, growing until they reached his lower lip. He had to resort to tightening every muscle at his command and even that just sent heat where he didn’t need it. The floor beneath the robe under his buttocks resembled a warming pad more than chilled slate. Oh. Damn. He shouldn’t have thought of what was beneath him because then he actually had to work at staying grounded. His entire groin area was alert. Hot. And ready. Everything she said and did just ratcheted it higher. Despite every restriction he placed on himself. Holy shit wasn’t remotely apt enough.

“You’re probably wondering how I know so much about him. Aren’t you?”

He nodded. That worked at keeping her talking as well as anything.

“I studied Filippo Bruno in my junior year at Ohio State.”

“You know his...birth name?”

“I just told you I studied him. I also know he called himself
Il Nolano
. I know some of his quotes. I’m especially fond of the one about how time is the father of all truth, and its mother is our mind. Or something like that.”

“But? How? Why?”

“If you believe in fate, its fate. If you believe in coincidence, its coincidence. If you’re a fan of luck. Well. Fill in the blank.”

“Luck?”

“I’m not sure which I’ll go with. I just know my professor handed out Alchemist names in a random fashion, and required us to study and write an essay on them. Mine was Giordano Bruno. So. I studied him. I read everything I could find about him. All his translated works...what is it now?”

His mouth gaped open. He didn’t know what to say. So he shut it.

“You aren’t going to pull the gender card, are you?”

“Gender card?”

“I already told you. You want to debate the sexes? You aren’t going to win. Brain size is not dependent on plumbing.”

“Plumbing?” he asked.

“Yeah. Plumbing. The lone difference between us is...
whoa
.”

Her voice dropped an octave, her mouth widened, and then she clapped both hands over it as she got a full measure of his problem. Lucien looked over her head at anything. Way over her head, while everything vibrated. He knew now exactly what full body flushing felt like. Miserable.

“Lucien?”

He released a breath he hadn’t known he’d held and made his apologies to the laboratory behind her. It still sounded rough-edged and stupid. “I hope you can forgive me...Ashley.”

“Forgive you?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong. Or what to do. I can’t seem to control...this.” He jerked his head toward his genitals. “I’ve never had such trouble. And—oh, hell. I can only apologize again for any offense given.”

“What? Oh, Lucien. Quit the apologies already. You have some major hang-ups about sex. And I mean
major
. I don’t find anything about you remotely offensive. Anywhere. I think the term that comes to mind is closer to impressive...and even that isn’t quite broad enough.”

He lowered his head. She appeared to be waiting for it. She looked him right in the eye and it looked like she spoke the truth.

“You don’t?” he asked.

“Oh, hell no. In fact...I’m thinking it’s really, really, really hot in here all of a sudden.”

“It is?”

“And...what you’re apologizing for, well. I find that a giant turn-on.”

“You do?”

“You’re not remotely intimidated by me, are you, Lucien?”

“Should I be?”

“Most men...uh. Okay. Every man I’ve ever been with...well. When they find out I’ve got the mental balls to go head-to-head with them, they like instantly get erectile dysfunction. Boom! And then they start giving me put-downs so I’ll get back in my place.”

“What place?”

“Beneath them, of course.”

Shit
. He wished she hadn’t said that. He’d seen a drawing once of a woman beneath a man. Her legs wrapped about his hips. Her loins welcoming his. And that’s exactly what he wanted right now. With an intensity that hardened him even more. Good thing she kept talking. He certainly couldn’t.

“So. I hope you’re listening because I find your reaction pretty damn intriguing. And awesome. And...I think I’d like to check it out just a little closer.”

She did just that, matching her knees to his with an instant move, going so close he could feel the pressure of each breath she gave as it hit him.

Lucien started shuddering.

“I think...maybe it’s time for a little science, Lucien.”

“Science?”

“Yes. Human Biology. Physiology. Neurological stimuli. Chemical and brain reactivity. Some other cool stuff I can’t recall at the moment.”

“Right now?”

“Oh, yes. Right now.”

“Right here?”

“Actually, unless it’s too uncomfortable, your floor looks pretty clean, you’re atop your robe, and there’s no way to fall.”

“Ashley—”

“Lie down, Lucien.”

She smiled, revealing how long her canines had grown. His eyes went wide.

“I’m thinking I’ll just skip the hypothesis stage and go right to experimentation.”

“Experimentation?”

“Yeah. Experimentation. On you. I’m going to show you exactly what I think of this body of yours. In meticulous detail. And then...well. Then, I’m going to switch places and let you the same to me. So. Are you going to lie down or not?”

He was on his back before she finished.

 

CHAPTER NINE

The experiment went awry the moment she touched him. Ashley trailed a hand along his arm, her finger pads gliding along little bumps that lifted on his skin, making a path. She reached his hand and laced her fingers through his. He might be lying still, but he was jumping in little jerks while it looked as if every muscle at his command was taut. She’d never seen anything so amazing. And then he groaned, masking any sound she might have made.

“Ashley?”

“Hmm?”

She lifted their entwined hands and brought them to her lips.

“This...experiment...of yours.”

“You’re very beautiful, Lucien,” she told him.

He lifted his head, moving his attention from contemplation of the roof to her. She smiled.

“Surely you knew that already. Or was everyone you’ve ever run across blind? What is it now?”

“No man...is...beautiful.”

He dropped his head, releasing the hypnotic quality of his gaze. His entire frame still pulsed in little movements that hampered his answer, making the words stutter. Ashley went to her knees and put her other hand atop his heart.

“Oh, very well. Handsome then. Amazingly so. And cut.”

“Cut?”

“Ripped. Toned. You know, like you spent countless hours at the gym doing sit-ups and push-ups and squats and lunges, and...just where did you get this physique, anyway? I thought all a monk did was fast and pray. Oh. And write.”

“We tilled fields. Harvested. And...traveled.”

“On horseback?”

“I rarely rode. But I handled them. Brushing. Currying. Feeding. I...had a way...with animals.”

“I’ll bet. Hmm. Is that how you met Bruno?”

He rolled his head back and forth, giving her a negative answer.

“Then how?”

“A group of us were traveling...through Paris. He was speaking. I stopped. Listened for a moment. And was caught. Spellbound. For hours.”

“I think I remember reading that part.”

“He had a great voice and could talk endlessly. Answering all sorts of things I’d been questioning for years.”

“How old were you?”

He shrugged.

“Make a guess.”

“Fourteen maybe. I don’t truly—Ashley!”

His voice rose on her name, sounding both pleading and shocked. It was her fault. She’d run her free hand down the center of him, stopping at his lower belly despite how his loins seemed to lunge toward her. She spent a couple of seconds with her hand hovering just out of touch before starting back up the same path.

“Have you ever been touched, Lucien? Intimately?”

His chest rose as he sucked in air. And then he shook his head again.

“Never?”

He grunted something. His chest fell with the exhaled breath. She moved along it, toward his throat. His chin. She sanded her fingertips along the slight scratch of whisker growth before reaching his lips, open to allow room for his fangs, or space for each harsh breath he made. She watched her hand tremble before moving her gaze again to his. The instant they connected, her heart dove somewhere into her belly and decided to pound heavily from there. This was extremely exciting. Visceral. And way too unbelievable.

Eyes of solid black and shielded by masses of the same shade of lashes seemed to pin her in place. That look created heat. Waves of it. The sensation was akin to a bonfire. Being too close. Hit by sparks. Singed. She moved a tremulous hand to his temple and smoothed back a lock of hair of the same black shade. And then she looked over him at the mass of room beyond them.

“I lost my parents when I was ten,” she told him.

“What?”

“They used to take me everywhere. On their every adventure. I was home-schooled and very spoiled.
Very
. And then, one day I was sick...and so, they left me. Just like that. And they never came back. I was so angry at them. I thought I hated them...for a very long time.”
What the hell?
She’d never told anyone any of this. “I didn’t let anyone touch me from that moment on. No hugs. No hand-holding. No contact. I probably have the words ‘Does not play well with others’ listed on a chart somewhere. I was a major pain in the ass, know what I mean?”

He grunted. That could mean anything. She just kept talking, baring long suppressed memories. Painful memories.

“Unlike you, Lucien. I can’t say I’ve never been...uh...touched. Physically, I mean. I had boyfriends. But...uh...wow. This is getting difficult. They never
touched
the real me. I mean. They never got through enough to.”

“Ashley?”

“Yes?”

“I do not think I can...continue this.”

Oh. Crap. She’d missed the killer amount of heat coming off him. The way he’d tightened his fingers about the hand he held. The rigidity inherent in every pore. It probably portended anger. And maybe disgust. She blew a huge sigh.

“Well. Great. I suppose I should’ve kept silent. I keep forgetting how you’re from an archaic time. Back then women really were chattel. Or worse. They weren’t supposed to have needs and urges and desires. And they weren’t to act on them. Because any woman who wasn’t pure and untouched was really low. The lowest of the low. Right?”

“Ashley. Stop.”

He answered her with a tone that caused beakers and cylinders to rattle in their stands atop his lab tables. Ashley took a deep breath and looked down. She couldn’t tell if he was angry. Those black lashes and eyes hid it. Especially with how he’d narrowed them.

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