The Vampire Queen's Servant (31 page)

"An era of more bloodshed.
It seems some never tire of it."

"Blood is nothing, Lyssa.
It is power that drives your enemies.; Didn't Rex always say that? Have you
forgotten his wisdom?"

Lyssa's posture did not change.
From what little of her profile Jacob could see, she didn't even alter her
expression. But he sensed Carnal had fired the first arrow when her tone went
to frost.

"It seems you've forgotten
proper etiquette. We've received no missive from you or a servant. You are to
announce your presence before entering my Region."

A flash of something went
through the steely eyes, too fast for Jacob to give it a name, though he
suspected it was hostility.

"My apologies," the
vampire said lightly. "I didn't think old friends needed such formalities.
Perhaps you might consider sharing your dinner dalliance with me to break some
of the ice between us?"

It took Jacob a moment to
realize Carnal was referring to him, for he didn't look in his direction. He
focused on Lyssa as if he were trying to peel the skin from her bones with the
scalpel of his gaze.

"He isn't food. I'm
training him as a new servant."

Curiosity swept the vampire's
features and his attention shifted back toward Jacob.

Lower your gaze.

The night he'd brought Lyssa
home, Jacob recalled Thomas had advised him to avoid eye contact with Bran and
not challenge the dog's dominance. Jacob had refused to do it.
I'm here to
take care of her, mate. That's the end of it
.

He'd trained for months on the
proper etiquette when a human servant met another vampire. But even with that
and his Mistress's sharp admonition in his mind, Jacob faced the vampire's
thorough assessment head-on, blue eyes clashing with gray as Carnal registered
his existence for the first time.

Carnal's lip curled slightly at
the left corner, exposing a fang. Jacob didn't find it anywhere near as
intimidating as Bran's upper set, which seemed at the time like it could have
graced the model of a saber-toothed tiger at the Smithsonian. Jacob detected a
glimmer of red in the man's eyes, but he kept that creepy flat tone, even as he
held Jacob's gaze, acknowledging the challenge. "So the rumor is true. You
dispatched your scabrous scholar."

"I couldn't bear to have
him near me after Rex's death." Lyssa shifted between the two men,
breaking the stalemate. Carnal's gaze shot quickly to her, a predator
registering the slightest movement of prey that might try to escape him.

"You were merciful. I would
have tortured him for months."

"I don't have your lust for
blood."

The expression on Carnal's face
altered, became more drawn. "Your distance wounds me, Lyssa. I've missed
Rex, too."

The arrogance dropped from his
voice, making it become more vulnerable. There was a disturbing rawness
contrasting with the smooth menace. Strangely, Jacob sensed this was a more
honest side to the creature confronting them.

"Things aren't the same
without Rex. I was hoping… You and I loved him best. All I wanted was to spend
time with you remembering him. To come to your home and feel the lingering
sense of his presence. I was afraid you'd say no if I asked first. Please
forgive me for taunting you. Truly, grief makes me a bastard."

He dropped to one knee as Lyssa
remained motionless, her back straight as one of the concrete pillars on the
parking deck. When he lifted his head, his gaze returned to Jacob.

"Come, share the blood of
your servant with me. He seems young and not yet broken in. The experience of
being shared will do him good. He's a fine specimen." Calculation gleamed
in his now darkening eyes, reminding Jacob of twin rat holes. "I've no
interest in his cock, but it's a particular pleasure to fuck a straight male
while feeding. Their humiliation, their rage… Throw in a little pain, and it's
an incredible taste. This one needs to learn humility."

"I don't share the blood of
my servant. Why would I be so foolish as to give you a connection to
myself?"

"You were foolish enough to
unleash your unique magic in this crowded place, Lyssa," he pointed out,
rising to his feet and squaring with her again.

"My husband gave you leave
to call me familiar," she said softly. "I never did. Since he's dead,
the invitation is rescinded."

Jacob tensed as the air heated
around them, impending violence thrumming in the air. Carnal's pale lips curled
back. "You weren't so formal when I was ramming my cock into you and you
were screaming. Do you know how often I've thought of that? The way my cock was
bathed in your blood when I pulled out of your tight ass? After I spilled my
come into your body? Perhaps if Rex had let me fuck your frigid cunt we might
now be celebrating our heir."

Jacob stepped forward, intending
murder. Instead, he was knocked to his knees. Lyssa's hand was in his hair,
holding him fast, her eyes cold and remote as she stared down at him in the
subjugated pose. "Behave."

She turned her attention back to
Carnal, who arrested his forward motion as she pinned him with her gaze. "As
you see, I can teach my servant about humility myself. I need nothing from you
except to observe the proper courtesies. Go back to your territory. Jacob will
contact you when I have decided on the date you may attend me at my home and
perform the correct formalities. Then you may travel through my Region.
Otherwise I'll place a complaint with your Region Master."

A muscle in his jaw flexed, but
he performed a mocking bow. "As you wish. If my inconvenience serves your
desires, then I will suffer it gladly. Far be it from me to disregard the
all-important bureaucratic rules of the Council."

She inclined her head, not
rising to the bait. His gaze swept her. "I hope to see you in your normal
attire on that date. This doesn't suit your great beauty at all. Good luck with
your servant. I suspect he won't live long."

Turning on his heel, he walked
across the parking deck, his hard-soled shoes crisp and sharp on the concrete.
Lyssa's nails dug into Jacob's scalp as her eyes remained on her adversary. His
knees ached from the impact with the unyielding cement and his chest was tight
with anger and embarrassment, but he forced himself to stay still, do nothing
further she would perceive as defiance of her wishes.

When he reached the edge of the
deck, Carnal stopped. "Do you even miss him,
Lady
Lyssa?" He
turned his head, showing his profile. His lip curled, giving the impression he
was spitting on the title, but Jacob saw the vulnerability had returned to his
expression.

It was a long moment, but Lyssa
replied at last, one hollow syllable that echoed, rebounding on ugly gray
walls. "Yes."

"And me?"

"You were my husband's
friend, Carnal. Not mine. You'll visit my home due to my respect for your
Region Master and in honor of my husband's memory, but I do not desire your
friendship. Don't seek it further from me."

With a snarl, he disappeared
into the darkness. Lyssa waited. Jacob watched her face, realizing she was
listening, all her senses extended to determine if they were alone. Her grip
eased somewhat, her thumb stroking a lock of his hair from his forehead, easing
the strain on his neck her hold had created. It didn't abate his fury, however.
He wanted to tell her to let go, to never again make him take a second seat to
her in a dangerous situation. Or treat him like a recalcitrant child.

When she turned her gaze to him
at last, her green eyes were hard and cold. She backhanded him in the face.

Pain exploded in the bridge of
his nose, his jaw and cheek area. The impact knocked him to the concrete. He
knew she'd used restraint because he was alive, but he tasted blood in his
mouth where his teeth had snapped onto his tongue.

"When I give you an order,
you'll obey it. If I tell you to stand behind me, that's where you will stay.
Without movement, without a word. Do you understand me?"

He scrambled to his feet almost
as soon as she hit him. But before he could regain his balance, she struck him
again, the opposite side, knocking him back down, making it clear she could do
it all night long. He'd never be able to touch her, not even a slap worthy of
two girls squabbling on a playground.

This wasn't being treated like a
child. He was being treated like a slave, someone's property, prohibited by the
laws of her existence from correcting that notion.

If you want to be in my world,
that is what you are. What you must accept.

The presence of her in his mind,
the things she had been trying to tell him and things Thomas had hinted at,
suddenly made a cohesive, frightening picture. A picture she was forcing him to
look at more closely than he'd done before.

Was
she the answer to his destiny he'd sought for so long, or was
Gideon right? Was he indulging in romanticized wishful thinking rather than
truth? As Jacob pushed himself back on his heels, she turned her back on him, a
strike more painful than the physical blows.

He didn't have to take it. He
could take her home, walk away. Of course he'd walk away with two marks binding
him permanently to her, but she would let him go. He swiped at his lips with
the back of his hand, came up with blood.

Only moments ago, he'd known
down to the depths of his soul he'd never walk away from her. He'd known it
even when he took the oath, otherwise he wouldn't have taken it, for to him an
oath was sacred, unbreakable.

It will guide you when
everything else seems cloudy
. Thomas had said
that, comparing it to the sacredness that attended the oath of marriage.
For
better or worse… Our hearts know what is true, Jacob, and need no oath. It's
our minds that need it, to help us stay the course through the rough patches.
You will need the oath, I promise you. She will make nothing easy
.

He spat blood. Well, this seemed
to qualify as one of those rough patches.

He struggled to find
it
,
the elusive something that could right his course again, and he remembered that
first night, the naked pain in her gaze after Ingram had left and it was just
the two of them.

I
can't bear to lose another
servant
…

She had no servant. No one to
indulge her need to casually reach out, touch and stroke. No one to hold her
close, surprising her with the offer of comfort. No one to make her smile,
banish shadows from her eyes. No one to kick around and treat like dog shit.

She spoke, her voice quiet,
tired. "I release you from your oath, Jacob. You don't have to stay. You
can go now. I'll find my way home. He's gone."

Damn it, remembering she could
read his mind was a pain in the ass. But for all its drawbacks, the link could
introduce an intimacy to their relationship that couldn't be duplicated in
mortal interactions. He didn't have to guard words with her, he didn't have to
do anything but be exactly who he was. There was a freedom to that.

Thomas, insisting he take that
oath, had understood the fundamental essence of who Jacob was, what he wanted
above all else.

He moved. One step after another
as she remained still, her back to him. A pace behind her, he dropped to one
knee, reached out and took her hand. Brought it to his lips before he lifted
her knuckles, pressed them against his face where she'd struck him.

Lyssa had tuned out of his mind
after hearing the bent of his thoughts. Lost in thoughts of her own, his touch
startled her. As she turned toward him, she could feel all the conflict in him,
all the reasons to walk away milling in his mind. There was fury simmering
there, and yet still he touched her with courtesy and reassurance. Reading his
mind was not the same as reading his heart, but this gesture provided the
answer to the jumbled chaos of her own needs.

"He may be gone, my lady.
But I'm not."