Vampire Elite (37 page)

“Enough,” he finally said. “You must feel better now.” And to her surprise, she really did, her tension and pain gone, and her body light, buoyant. But she also felt unfulfilled, dissatisfied.
 

It was because her blood had been wasted. Instead of nurturing life, it was soaked into the satin sheets, nothing but dirty laundry.

“This is barbaric,” she bit out. “It’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry.” Finally stepping over to her, he lifted her and carried her to the shower, rinsing the blood from her and sealing her wounds with his tongue.
 

“Please, Arianna, I’m begging you, don’t use your Amiti tricks on me. They won’t work. I love you, my heart. But I still need time.”

Wrapping her in a warm towel, he took her hand and led her through a doorway to a second bedroom. It was like some kind of sex gym: a huge, round bed in the center, mirrors covering every inch of the walls and ceiling. Reflections of both of them multiplied into infinity everywhere she looked.

Wow, now she knew what was behind that random door that she’d found locked every time she nosed around in Tor’s suite.
 

Candles circling the bed ignited all at once, apparently responding to Tor’s will. He led her to the bed and nudged her down onto it. It was a relief to see just one reflection of herself in the mirror above her, and looking at her naked body, she was startled to find that she didn’t feel embarrassed or even shy. Instead she felt a rush of pride. She looked ... radiant, lustrous skin covering sexy curves, all framed by the flaming halo of her hair.
 

Tor sat on the bed and ran his hand along her side, tracing the curves of her waist and hip. Lazily, she watched them in the ceiling mirror, mesmerized by the sight of her body arching and stretching to meet his hand. They’d been making love less than an hour ago, and she was already starving for more.
 

Tor stood up and padded across the floor. When he returned, he was brandishing a peacock feather he’d gotten from a vase near the doorway.

“Now,” he whispered, his eyes teasing. “Let’s practice your new skill. I’ll bring you to climax while you practice controlling your body, keeping it from overproducing blood. It’s a handy skill, one that will spare you a lot of discomfort. And me, too,” he added, tracing the feather slowly up her inner thigh. “And learning that control isn’t so bad, either.” He wiggled his eyebrows, his expression promising that he’d be tormenting her, and enjoying every minute of it.
 

And of course she responded, every cell of her body coming to attention, ultrasensitive. As the feather moved past her waist to circle her breasts and then still over her nipple, Arianna realized that she was losing it: her blood wanted to multiply, and she couldn’t focus on stopping it, too distracted by the feather, the mirrors reflecting herself, the flickering candles, and Tor’s stormy eyes fixed on her.
 

And sure enough, when the feather began moving again, caressing first one nipple and then the other, her body started raging again, churning out new blood cells, totally disregarding her feeble objections.
 

“I can’t do it,” she whispered.

“Yes. You can.” Tor trailed the feather up to her throat and then down the midline of her body to her core. Arianna exhaled sharply and squeezed her legs tight.
 

“Open,” he commanded.
 

His command slid up her spine, igniting her even more, and she parted her legs slightly, feeling them tremble. Tor slipped the feather between her legs, tracing her folds, and the feeling was so exquisite that she had to close her eyes and stop breathing, biting her lip to remind herself to think of her blood, of slowing her body down even as the pleasure drove her higher and higher. Her muscles spasmed so hard that Arianna thought she’d faint.
 

“Wider.” Tor’s voice was hoarse.

Her body was writhing, totally out of her control, her back arching high as she was gulping for air. The torture was too sweet, too intoxicating.
 

“If I do it,” she protested, “the dagger won’t be enough. It’s too much; I’ll have too much blood.”

“Keep your mind focused. Try to control yourself,” he soothed, his voice calm again.

Alright, that was it: now she was just annoyed. She opened her eyes and pushed herself up, leaning on her elbows. “How, dammit? What you’re asking is impossible. You have no idea what it’s like. I can’t
focus
”—she made air quotes around the word—“I can’t think at all. I’m just ... raw emotion.”

“Raw emotion is a luxury the Amiti Queen can’t afford, ever. This is far from the only thing you’ll have to control, but it’s important, so you may as well start here.” Tor moved the feather back to her throat and then up and around her ear. She resisted the urge to swat it away. “Amiti blood production is like our bloodlust: you control it or it controls you. Do you really want this to happen whenever you’re aroused, you having to wrestle for control of your body while vampires react to you like dogs around a bitch in heat? It’s not what you want, believe me.”

“Okay, fine. How do I do it?”
 

“Turn your awareness inward. Ignore everything else; focus only on your blood.” He moved around the bed to stand at her feet. Arianna knew what he was up to: he’d have her spread her legs again, wide open to his devouring eyes. And beyond arousing. How could she possibly focus on her blood?
 

He moved the feather back between her legs, slapping it against her flesh. She struggled not to look at him, not to feel the fluttering, impatient feather on her skin. The effort made her tremble, made her body flush with perspiration.
 

“Spread your legs wide, now.” It was an order.

She tried to pull herself back, to take control of her body instead of letting it run rampant, chasing the pleasure like a wild animal after its prey. She demanded that her legs obey
her
, not him, but they ignored her completely as if they were another organism, splaying wide, the pleasure so shocking that it felt like pain.
 

“I don’t see it,” he teased, prodding her with, the feather. “Show me what’s there. Put your fingers there and show me more.”

Shaking with lust, she did as he asked, moving both hands between her legs, sliding her fingers along her folds, and soon she’d forgotten everything but her body’s ecstasy, her hips lifting to catch the feather’s motions, encouraging its unbridled play with her clit.
 

Tor’s voice broke through her bliss. “I’m controlling your blood, Arianna, not you.”
 

Dammit, he was right. Gathering all her will, she began tracking her blood cells, feeling them multiplying in response to the feather’s touch like tide drawn by the moon. Anger rushed through her. How could she give him so much control over her, over
her
body,
her
blood? She wanted her powers back.
Back off
, she yelled to her blood cells, pushing Tor from her mind.
Stop
!
Now
!
 

To her surprise, they obeyed. And it wasn’t as hard as she’d expected; all she’d needed was a little anger and the desire to reclaim herself. Her pulse began slowing down, breathing returning to normal, body temperature falling.
 

“Good,” Tor said. “Now you’re ready for a real challenge.”

A
real
challenge?
 

Tor
was
talking about sex, wasn’t he? But his words reminded Arianna of the
real
game they were playing, how high the stakes were, and to her horror, she realized that she was losing. With his every move, every word, he was making it harder—impossible—for her to kill him.

Chapter 50

The next morning Tor left Arianna sleeping in his bed and called all available members of the pride to a meeting in his study. Ismen came, too, having earned the right to be involved in the pride’s decision making. Ismen and Istara were the only two Amiti that the pride had ever trusted.
 

When everybody had gotten settled, Tor got straight to business. “Any updates on Sim and Odji?” he asked Anock.
 

Anock shook his head. “No, sir. Everything is the same. You saw the latest pictures; there’s no other news.”
 

Periodically the Order posted new pictures of Simone and Odji on a public website to show that they were alive and well. Anock had tried to negotiate their exchange, but the pride didn’t have anybody valuable enough to offer in return, so the Order had refused. Of course, now there was Arianna, but Anock hadn’t even mentioned her. Tor guessed Anock knew better than to ask to exchange her for Simone and Odji, no matter how badly they wanted their pride members back.
 

“Has the Order questioned us about Arianna?”
 

“No. They don’t seem to know that she’s with us. Do you want me to tell them? I’m sure they’d love to exchange Simone and Odji for her.”
 

Okay, apparently Anock didn’t know better.
 

“The Order might agree to that exchange, but I do not. Please don’t make any more suggestions like that. I will not let Arianna go under any circumstances. In fact, there’s more to it, which is one of the reasons I’ve called you all here. I’m thinking about blood-bonding with her and I need your help in making sure that’s a wise decision.”
 

Anock arched his brows. “I understand, sir. You want to be one hundred percent sure of her loyalty before you take this step.” At Tor’s nod, he continued. “Then it’s crucial for us to know that Arianna is not trying to establish contact with the Order.”
 

“Exactly.” Tor nodded again. “Can you take care of it? I want to be sure she’s under my influence. I can’t seem to shake the feeling that she’s slipping away—or that I never completely had her in the first place. I can’t really read her.”
 

“She loves you, Tor. You’d have to be blind not to see it,” Theores interjected.
 

“Maybe. But what if love isn’t enough?”
 

“Come on, Tor. She’s an Amiti. They’re all about love. I mean, look at Istara? Amiti will do anything for love.”
 

“But Tor’s right.” Anock cut in and turned to Tor. “We need to validate her commitment to you. It’s too much of a risk otherwise. I have a plan, sir.”
 

“Go ahead. Tell us.” Tor loved Anock’s rationality; he could always rely on him.
 

“We need to give Arianna more freedom—show her we trust her—and then watch her closely. Of course, we’ll keep monitoring her email and other internet activity, but she probably knows how insecure those channels are and won’t use them. So we need to give her better opportunities to contact the Order, if that’s what she’s planning to do.”
 

“Agreed. What do you have in mind?”
 

“Let’s plan some travel through, say, Europe; we’ve seen Order activity there recently. We’ll encourage Arianna’s input about what places we visit and let her go where she wants when we’re in those places. If she has Amiti contacts or knows where to find them, she’ll make suggestions. Then we have Theores and Ismen accompany her when she goes out; no additional bodyguards, so she’s not too wary. The two of them give her as much privacy as they can without making her suspicious—they can use whatever excuses to do that—and my people watch her from a distance. Under those circumstances, if she wants to do anything, she’ll do it.”
 

“Good. Then we’ll start with Paris, my friends. Tomorrow.”
 

Please, Sekhmet, don’t let Arianna have any contacts. Leave the girl to me. I need her so badly. Don’t take her away from me.
 

“Now, Ismen,” Tor said, turning to the blond Amiti. “Great job on the yacht.”
 

Theores smiled. “You were perfect—even better than we expected.”
 

“Because it was the truth, you know. I didn’t need to put on an act; I just told her the truth.”
 

“She only knew one side of the story, the one Marcus told her,” added Tor. “At least she knows the whole story now, and she probably heard it with a more open mind coming from a fellow Amiti. I hope it’ll help her develop a much broader perception of the Order so she can reach her own conclusions.”
 

“You’ve really put a lot of effort into bringing the girl to our side, Tor. What if it was all in vain and Arianna still contacts the Order? What do we do then?” Leon was skeptical about Amiti—he’d lost three good friends when their blood-bonds had killed them—and even being mated to Ismen hadn’t changed that view.

The room grew quiet, all eyes settling on Tor. He read identical expressions in all of their faces: they were all thinking that sooner or later Arianna’s powers would be fully developed, and if she cooperated with the Order, it would mark the beginning of the end for vampires.
 

Tor let his gaze travel across the room, meeting each of theirs in turn, from one face to the next. This was his family, his pride, his loyal friends. They’d been with him for hundreds of years, supporting him in all his endeavors, all of his trials. He loved and respected them. His pride was an extension of himself. Could he even consider sacrificing them for the Amiti girl? Absolutely not.