The Taste of Magic (20 page)

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Authors: Gina Rosavin

BOOK: The Taste of Magic
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With his arms wrapped tightly around her, he guided her to the bed, and they fell atop it, their mouths still fused together. He finally lifted his head and drew a finger slowly down the side of her face.

 

"So beautiful. Are you sure, my sweet Kat?"

 

She swallowed. Still, her voice remained elusive, so she nodded. He lowered his head, lightly brushing his lips against hers, softly, soothing her worry. His hand rested on the swell of her breast, above her heart.

 

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Scared?"

 

She realized he could feel her heart racing beneath his hand. "A little. I…will I…"

 

He smiled reassuringly and brushed another kiss across her mouth. "One time will not turn you. That requires much more. You will be safe."

 

She nodded and closed her eyes, unable to watch what was to come. But all he did was stroke her neck and cheek, following the path with his lips. Soon, her fear faded as he aroused her with the soft touches and kisses. She smiled as she realized what he was doing. She adored him more for his consideration.

 

He was wounded and weak, yet he took the time to ease her fright, to make this pleasurable for her. His unhurried caresses soon banished all thought, and she gave herself over to the mastery of his touch. His mouth was at her throat now, kissing and licking, soft little nips which had her moaning and tossing her head. His fingers were between her legs, finding her moist core. His feather light caresses had her panting and arching against him, desperate for him to fan the burning flames. She gasped, she cried out, she pleaded, but he continued to toy with her, until nothing mattered but being absorbed into his essence. Each stroke, each caress, each kiss seared her, and she wanted to step into the fire he stoked. As she soared through the clouds, a brief twinge of pain in her neck broke through the haze of ecstasy. The sensation of Adrian's mouth on her neck, the gentle pulling, soon eased the discomfort. Her life's blood flowed into him, a gentle rippling sensation which consumed her, even as she knew it healed him. Each gentle motion of his lips heightened her passion, as he brought her to an endless climax of pleasure cascading through her in a torrent of sensation. She felt him now, sensed his thoughts and emotions.

 

The intense craving and delight he shared left her feeling more cherished than she ever had, and bound only to him. She held him as tightly as her weakening body would allow, savoring each sensation as his hands and mouth drew it from deep within her. And then, the deluge peaked, and she crashed down into a vortex of pleasure unlike anything she'd ever known. As the aftershocks faded, Adrian lifted his head. His eyes, now blue, studied her intently. A drop of blood remained at the corner of his mouth, and a brief shiver passed along her spine as he licked it away with a tiny flick of his tongue. His brow furrowed in concern, and she felt his silent reassurance, like a warm blanket wrapped around her.

 

"Don't be afraid." His soft whisper was a soothing caress, and her apprehension melted away.

 

"I'm tired. So tired."

 

He seemed alarmed at that, and she wanted to lift her hand and touch him, reassure him, but she couldn't.

 

"You must rest." His voice seemed so far away. She could barely keep her eyes open.

 

"Adrian?" Her voice was little more than a slurred whisper.

 

"Hush, my love. You need to recover your strength." He drew her against him, nestling her into the blankets and pillows. He softly stroked her forehead and cheek, brushing her hair from her face.

 

"What about you?" She closed her eyes and rested her head into the crook of his neck.

 

"I will be fine. Rest now."

 

"Adrian?"

 

"Yes?"

 

"Am I?"

 

"Are you what?"

 

"Your love?"

 

She was asleep before he could answer. Before he realized what she'd asked. What he'd called her. His love. Love her? Did he? He certainly cared deeply for her, especially after she'd offered herself. But love? No, it wasn't possible. Affection, caring, companionship, all those things, maybe. Not love. Love was a foolish sentiment, only fit for the pathetic humans and the lowly lives they led. He would never allow an emotion created by courtiers and minstrels of centuries past to get the better of him. Not for a mortal woman. But Kat was no mere mortal woman, she was so much more. He sat up, leaning his head against his hand, and studied her. It startled him to realize he was perfectly content to remain like this, just watching her sleep. A glance at the window told him it was still several hours to sunrise. Normally, he hated wasting any of his nocturnal hours, but tonight, all he wanted was to stay by her side. He was well enough to hunt now, thanks to her selflessness, but he wouldn't leave her.

 

She moved closer, though he knew it wasn't warmth that drew her. It was the bond they now shared. A niggling doubt tugged at his thoughts. Would she regret what she'd done? Would she hate him for being too weak to resist her offer? If he hadn't lost so much blood tonight, he would have. He should have left, not allowed her to seduce him with kisses and pleading eyes. Even as his thoughts raced, he knew he'd wanted her. Tonight was the fulfillment of so many of his desires. And it had far surpassed anything he'd ever imagined. Her blood renewed him, her purity made him strong again. He could still taste her, the sultry sweetness like ambrosia to his senses, unlike anything that had ever come before. Was it her magic, or was it purely Kat's essence that made him feel like he could take on the entire Roman army?

 

Then why did part of him wish he could turn back the clock and refuse her? Because, for the first time in centuries, he was afraid. Afraid to see her look at him with betrayal and doubt in her eyes. Afraid she would hate him for what he'd done.

 

How long had it been since he'd felt guilty for taking someone? Even in his most outlandish daydreams, he could never have predicted a mere woman would actually teach him the meaning of remorse. He smiled, despite himself. So, this was what love felt like.

 

He stiffened. How had he come back to that again? This was not love. Love was for foolish mortals, who forever placed themselves in his path, sacrificing themselves to protect another. He frowned as he realized he had done exactly that when Kat was with Machiavelli. Well, she was an investment, after all, he reasoned. His most valuable one.

 

He sighed, knowing he lied to himself. Everything he did was simply for her gratification. No, it was because he wanted her power. The one true goal, and he would be wise not to forget it. She was a means to an end, a very pleasurable means, but nothing more. Keeping her happy was only the path to take if he would achieve his aspirations.

 

Yet, her allure was impossible to resist. Her touch, the sound of her voice, her sweet and heady scent, all of it combined to make him crave even more of her. Damn it all, how had he let this happen?

 

She snuggled closer in her sleep and he was lost, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly against him. He had much to plan, because when she awoke in the morning, there would be many questions. And he had as many for her.

 

Her powers were freed. Obviously, Olga had managed to complete that particular task right beneath his nose. No longer. He was in charge now and would see to Kat's training. He would show her the way to fully enjoy her talents, to use them to gain immeasurable happiness. He would show her the joy and sheer pleasure to be had when using dark magic.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sophie trudged along the path toward the lane where she parked her car. Once again, she'd let du Lac go. As she always would. Until he finally understood exactly why she did it.

 

She hadn't planned on ending up here, in Machiavelli's neighborhood. But when she set out for the castle, intending to…what? Confront Adrian? Declare her love? She was getting out of control, practically stalking him, hiding on the grounds so she could spy on him and Katerina. How pathetic. But when Katerina's parents had shown up, and discovered no one awaiting them, Sophie had shown herself, claiming to be a friend. They hadn't believed her, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was finding Adrian before it was too late.

 

She'd known Katerina was bait for a trap for Adrian. Sophie had gone to the villa, hoping she'd be able to save Adrian from whatever Machiavelli intended. But Katerina had been more than capable of seeing to that, despite the fact the foolish woman had caused Adrian's wound by distracting him. When Joshua discovered du Lac had taken the Italian out, he would be furious. She didn't care. All that mattered was Adrian was safe, even if he was with that witch.

 

A growl from the bushes slowed her step. She reached inside her jacket, closing her fingers around one of the stakes she carried. The leaves rustled and she spun about, holding the wood out in front of her.

 

"Who's there?"

 

Another growl was her response, then a movement beneath the bushes drew her gaze. A hand, then another, and someone, something, crawled toward her. The creature lifted its head, and she gasped. Machiavelli! How had he survived? She backed away, turning and running to the car. She tugged at the handle, but was slammed against the vehicle, the stake clattering to the ground. Despite his weakened condition, his speed and strength were no match for her.

 

"Just what I need."

 

The harsh, labored voice in her ear ignited her terror as she was jerked about. She reached into her jacket again, but he grabbed her hands and pinned them behind her back. With his free hand, he yanked her head back, exposing her throat.

 

She kicked out at him, but he was too strong for her to fend off. She shrieked, praying someone would hear, but it was cut short when his fangs pierced her skin. No, this was supposed to be Adrian, her mind screamed. Pain radiated outward, consuming her as he sucked greedily at the flowing wounds. She struggled, trying to break free, but soon weakened as he continued to drink. Everything grew dim as she slumped against her captor. Her last thought was that she never had a chance to tell Adrian how she truly felt.

 

She was next aware of being cradled gently against a strong chest and someone spoke. She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut. Fingers brushed her cheek.

 

"Wake up, my dear. You have much to learn." Something cool pressed against her lips. She couldn't resist the need to grab on and drink deeply. Her strength began to renew itself, and she opened her eyes. She was sucking on someone's…wrist. Oh, no, it couldn't be!

 

Realization sank into her dazed mind as she stared up into the dark eyes of Machiavelli. Her master. She drew away, despite the fierce hunger urging her to continue taking what he offered. He held his wrist to her lips again, but she shook her head.

 

"No," she whispered.

 

He smiled. "Yes. You need this. You want this, don't deny it."

 

Choking back a sob, she once more latched onto his wrist, greedily sucking down the warm liquid that fueled her. When she finally felt sated, he pulled his arm away and settled her against him, one hand lightly stroking her cheek.

 

"You are mine now. And together we will have our revenge."

 

"No, let me go. I won't help you."

 

He crushed her against him, his mouth covering hers in a brutal kiss. She fought him, but he subdued her, tangling his hand in her hair and forcing her to the ground, pinning her flailing arms beneath her.

 

"You will. Or I will destroy you."

 

"Please, I don't want this."

 

"But I do. And you will obey."

 

She whimpered as he kissed her savagely again, his fangs tearing at her lip. He covered her with his body, ripping at her clothes, still ravaging her mouth. His hands were everywhere at once, and she shuddered with revulsion as he spread her legs. Though her transformation had strengthened her, she was only a fledgling, and could not fight him. She was helpless as he rose above her, his eyes glittering golden in the moonlight.

 

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

 

Katerina stirred and snuggled deeper into the enveloping warmth. Hands moved softly along her back, spreading comfort. She opened her eyes to find Adrian gazing intently at her.

 

"Good morning," he said. His expression was guarded, wary. It took her a few seconds to remember why.

 

Recollection of the night before flooded her mind. She'd given herself to Adrian, and in return, he'd given her pleasure greater than she had ever known. She belonged to him now, body and soul. Her throat tightened as the enormity of what she'd done settled over her.

 

"Kat?" Worry laced his tone as he ran a finger along her cheek. "What troubles you?"

 

"I think you know the answer to that."

 

He nodded and sighed, resignation creeping into his features. "Do you regret it?"

 

She hesitated, not sure how to answer. She certainly didn't regret helping Adrian, but the results of her deed left her vulnerable, more vulnerable than she'd been before. Yet, she would do it all over again, without hesitation.

 

"Kat?" The urgency in his voice revealed how deeply worried he was. She offered a reassuring smile.

 

"No, I don't regret it. You're safe, you're well. That's all that matters."

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