A Royal Craving (9 page)

S
pencer returned to the dining room, where he expected to find Prosper. He thrilled to know that someone else thought his King blameless of the illness Sienna now suffered.

If she had not been selfish and domineering, like the vampires he heard tales of as a child, Prosper would never have reacted to her cruel threat. To think that she had almost caused him unbearable emotional and physical pain had flames of fury flickering in Spencer's stomach.

The dining room appeared empty when he entered. He wondered if the library next door had drawn his King's attention. He ventured into the room, to find someone he had not met moving books between shelves.

“Excuse me,” he called out.

The man, probably a few years older than himself, turned and nodded. He briefly caught the movement of lips as the man turned to place a book on the shelf. With his back to the door, Spencer did not make out the words. He crossed to his side and tapped his shoulder.

“I am sorry. I have to see you to know what you are saying,” he apologised, as the servant turned to face him.

“You will be the Master's new servant?” he guessed.

“Not a servant. I am,” Spencer stalled, uncertain how to put it. “his companion.” He smiled, realising what he had become.

“But you are a human,” the man pointed out, with a frown.

“Yes.”

“Then you are a bedmate and a servant,” he said, as though struggling to make sense of the situation.

Confused and uncertain about this servant, who seemed stricken by his presence in Prosper's life, Spencer wondered if this could be jealousy.

“I assure you that I am neither. I am Prosper's companion by choice; his and my own,” he explained, trying to judge his true meaning.

“But,” the servant looked around and leaned forward, to continue in what he assumed must be a whisper, “I have heard that vampires cannot feel true emotion for a human,” he said, intriguing him.

Spencer had heard such rumours, growing up in a human world. But he had known since the moment he met Prosper, five years ago, that those rumours were untrue.

He leaned closer to this servant and whispered, “I promise it is not true. I have felt Prosper's love and can see it. I can also promise that other rumours are not true. To be physical is not painful and the emotion when he fed from me was closer to blinding pleasure than pain,” he swore.

In a way, he understood the need to believe the rumours, when he had no personal experience of vampires. But to believe blindly and never take the risk of discovering the truth was folly.

The young man straightened and stared at him, as though his words were shocking.

“I believe vampires have a gift that humans do not. They see the beauty of the soul and not the body,” Spencer continued, hoping to discover the cause of the fear in this servant's eyes. “What are you doing with these books?” he queried, realising this must be the tempestuous Davian that his King had warned him about.

“The Mistress left instructions for me to reorganise them,” he explained.

Spencer looked at the books and realised that someone had been teasing him. The books were randomly distributed throughout the bookcase. Authors were placed sporadically and books from the same collection were separated. “Do you enjoy this work?” he asked.

“It is a task, but I do not know the books,” Davian said, with a flush to his cheeks.

“Nor do I. I had never touched a book until I entered this house.” He reassured him that they were the same. “Would you mind if I took over? I would like to explore these books myself,” Spencer asked, longing to read them and organise them into their families.

“If that is your order,” Davian replied, uncertainly.

“Would it help if it was?” he wondered.

“I would be much relieved. I do not like this room,” he answered, with a slight laugh that suggested they might become good friends.

Spencer removed the book from Davian's hand and nodded to the door. “Feel free to escape,” he offered, cheekily.

As a book lover, he could not abide to see priceless, original works manhandled haphazardly. He may not have read any books, but he had admired them from afar and always walked past the same shop, on his way to school, to read a few sentences from the open book in the window. The book changed every week, but it made the story exciting; he never knew what he might read next.

Davian smiled as he left, but when his shadow stalled, Spencer turned to find him frozen in the middle of the room, with Parry blocking the doorway. Tension passed between them that intrigued him. He caught pieces of their conversation.

“…got the better of you, I see? How delicious,” Parry said.

“…orders…leave…excuse me…”

He caught random words from Davian, as he circled Parry, trying to get past him.

Spencer was immensely intrigued to see Parry focused and Davian nervous. “Parry,” he called, catching his attention. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“You can. My brother has a gift for you,” Parry replied, amiably. “He thought the library would have been too great a temptation, when you could not be found in the kitchen. I offered to fetch you,” he explained.

“Of course you did.” Spencer beamed at Parry, convinced he knew what transpired between the two men in the room.

He lay the book down and willingly followed Parry out of the room and along the corridor to Prosper's suite.

“Davian is quite charming, if not that smart,” he commented, watching Parry closely.

The Prince stiffened beside him, but tried not to react. “How so?”

“He believes the silly rumours spread in the city, that vampires are incapable of feeling affection for a human,” Spencer explained, pretending not to care or notice how he acted. “Of course, it is not entirely his fault. He has not the benefit of having met a vampire that discounted those rumours,” he hinted.

When Parry stalled in the middle of the hallway, staring into space, Spencer knew he had made an impact. As with the books in the windows, he could tell the story from just a few lines. Parry chased after Davian, who ran scared because he did not wish to be a bedmate to a vampire. Neither one had made it clear they were hoping for more.

He had seen it many times in the city, especially between the brothel workers and their clients. An adamant no when least expected, distance instead of getting closer; what one man had called reverse psychology. A tease to draw the client closer.

He wondered if Davian ran from Parry to test if his emotions were deep enough to cause him to follow.

“Parry, are you well?” Spencer asked, feigning innocence, as he waited for the Prince to catch up.

“I…no, I am fine. Thank you. I recall that I have something…something urgent I must attend to. Please excuse me,” Parry apologised, then rushed off.

Spencer had the confirmation he needed. With a nod, he continued on his way.

P
rosper stood by the window and turned when he heard the door close. A fluttery sense of belonging and familiarity swept through him, as Spencer entered.

He led his human to the large wardrobe at the side of the room, ready to present his gift. “I hope you like my gift,” he announced, opening the doors to reveal a closet full of new clothes. Everything he may need lay inside; silk shirts, suits, casual clothes, hats and jackets.

Spencer stared for a long time, before looking up at him in wonder.

“We can fashion anything from natural materials. If you want something else, something specific, let me know,” Prosper promised, prepared to create anything he wanted, if he had been remiss.

“I have never seen such beautiful clothes.” Spencer sighed in admission, running his fingers over the fabrics. Then he looked up, with sad eyes. “Will you tell me what happened earlier?” he asked.

Prosper smiled sadly in response and nodded. “Only if you tell me how your evening has been?” he bargained, as knocking interrupted them.

“I promise.” Spencer nodded.

Prosper turned to the door, as his companion returned to admiring his clothes.

The cook entered, carrying a tray with their mid-night meal.

“Thank you, Eamon.”

“I figured the lad got lost or your brother had him sidetracked.” Eamon chuckled and left, leaving a tray of two stews and sandwiches.

Prosper placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder and he turned, smiling. “Eamon has provided sustenance. Shall we talk, while we eat?” He suggested a pleasant, but lazy course of action, glad to see him nod and climb onto the bed.

“What did Sienna say?” Spencer asked.

Lifting a bowl into his left hand, Prosper considered the matter. As he watched his companion choose a sandwich from the plate, eyes always returning to his, he began to explain what his sister had said and how it had affected him.

He would never lie to his companion.

Prosper was surprised that Spencer limited his reaction to avoidance. He had expected a discussion, but was glad to avoid talking about the incident. Perhaps he knew he was not ready?

In return, Spencer told him everything he had discovered from Eamon and Parry.

“You believe Parry is infatuated with Davian?” Prosper laughed at the intriguing news. “That would explain why Davian still has not been fed from.”

“Well, I will ensure Parry understands that we humans are not purely prey for vampires,” Spencer announced, in glee. “He will learn we are equals and capable of great emotion.”

Prosper believed he would and that Parry would do well to heed the lesson. “What are your plans?” he wondered, curious if he could assist.

“It is simple. I will prove that playing games will get them nowhere. They must confess their feelings or suffer,” his companion explained.

Impressed, his words reminded Prosper of his lover's bold actions and confessions from last night. He could not imagine that Parry would confess and, if what Spencer had said about the rumours were true, neither would Davian.

“How will you convince them?” he wondered, hoping Parry would not inadvertently ruin his plans.

“Parry already trusts his feelings, though he continues to fight them,” Spencer explained, with conviction. “All I must do is warn him of the consequences, if he does not speak up. The longer it takes Davian to accept his feelings, the more difficult it will be to act upon them,” he professed. “Then I must work on Davian and convince him to allow Parry to feed from him. It should only require one feeding. But first, I must challenge this belief that Parry has no right to be attracted to him,” he admitted.

Prosper was disappointed to hear Davian could be so prejudiced. But he believed Spencer capable of fixing that.

Seeing him happy, close, and flirtatious, drove him to breaking point. He could not hold back. The more his companion said, the greater his interest grew.

He stood and removed the tray to the side table, their meal thoroughly enjoyed.

As he climbed onto the bed, Spencer lay back with a faint smile that said he knew what he wanted.

“I was so lonely before you came into my life. I can barely stand to be this happy,” Prosper confessed, leaning down to kiss his lips.

Spencer opened his mouth beneath his, letting their bodies naturally mould into each other. When soft lips left his, Spencer caressed his palm over his left cheek. Such a tender touch on torn, mutilated skin sent his pulse racing. He had not known contact other than his own for decades.

Prosper happily accepting the kiss, as Spencer lifted off the bed and wrapped his arms around his neck. He enjoyed the feel of his companion's slim body pressed against his. It robbed him of breath that he did not need.

He never wished to breathe again, if it meant Spencer would not stop looking at him with such love. This man was still a child; yet, the only one who had ever cared for him, who had seen beyond the mask of darkness he hid behind.

When his lover broke the kiss, he said; “Your eyes are a brighter green now. Are you hungry?”

Prosper stared at him. He did not feel hungry, but could find no other explanation for his eyes changing colour except…

“Not hungry,” he promised, as he lay on his back.

He needed space to breathe, as his darker instincts rose to the surface. Spencer was his life mate. They were bound soul to soul, for eternity, but the two sides of his personality fought each other. The vampire needed to feed and have his companion feed from him, in acceptance of the union of their souls; his human demanded he claim his body and heart.

Prosper knew he had Spencer's heart already, but his primitive nature told him that he must claim Spencer's innocent body as his, put a ring on his finger and ensure that he could never be claimed again. But he had not finished courting him.

In his world, it could take up to three years to court a human; longer if courting his own kind.

Spencer was young, innocent and nineteen in the human world. A baby to the world he would soon step into. He had
much to explore and see; Prosper did not want to take that from him. The minute they had made love, he became his; marked as belonging to him, to any who caught his scent. But claiming him would take much more.

Spencer would not be able to turn without needing his blood, as Prosper needed his. They would feed from each other and no other. How could he subject him to that this early in their relationship?