Beloved Vampire (Vampire Queen #4)

Beloved Vampire (Vampire Queen #4) Page 83

“Do you have a boat?” she asked, her fingers intertwined with his on her thigh. His thumb stroked her knuckles with idle gentleness.

“I do. I can take you out in it. There’s a nice cove not too far from here. At low tide, there are caves you can explore while I watch.”

She smiled. “I forgot. Vampires don’t like to swim.”

“No, we can’t swim. We sink. Most don’t even like boats, but I like the water.” He nodded to the view. “Obviously.”

“It reminds you of the desert,” she guessed, shivering as he stroked the damp lines he’d created between her thighs. Her fingers convulsed under his nape. “The waves and vastness.”

“So it does, habiba. You know me well.”

His head lifted then, and she sensed him studying the darkness. “Mason?”

“Shhh. I heard . . . something.”

She straightened in his arms, searching the night with him, listening to the lap of the waves on the shore. “Maybe Lyssa and Jacob?”

“No.” His hands opened, an easy caress, at odds with the sharp thoughts that abruptly flooded her mind.

Jessica, I want you to obey everything I tell you to do. Without hesitation or thought. Do you understand? Do not speak aloud. And do not be afraid.

“Good evening, Lord Mason.”

She expected him to leap to his feet, but instead Mason brushed his cheek over her temple, gave an irritated sigh. “You’re forfeiting your life, Trenton, coming to my home uninvited. There is no welcome for you here. What do you want?”

“It is who we want, and I think you know the answer to that.”

She stiffened, but Mason’s grip reminded her to stay relaxed. Only then did he slip from around her and rise, taking a spread-legged stance that covered her in front while the railings provided some protection behind her. Glancing through the slats, however, Jessica saw a cadre of male vampires, seven of them, come from beneath the shadows of the verandah. They formed a semicircle below. Despite the ball of ice that formed in her chest and stomach, she showed them to Mason in her mind, felt a flicker of acknowledgment. Then she slid her legs out of the rails and turned on her backside to see the threat before Mason, while keeping at enough of an angle to maintain the others in her peripheral vision.

She’d recognized Trenton’s voice right off. Now she saw him, with a dry-mouthed surge of panic she tried to push down. She also knew most of the eight vampires who stood behind him. Raithe’s progeny and hangers-on. Her heart stopped as she realized two had crossbows notched with wooden arrows aimed at Mason. They were accompanied by well-armed servants.

“What foolishness is this, Trenton?” Mason asked coldly.

“We intend to kill her. Slowly, as she deserves. You can find another servant. Raithe’s death must have justice.”

“Raithe’s death was justice. And while Raithe sired most of this litter”—his gaze coursed over them contemptuously—“I don’t think their motives for being here are devotion to their sire’s memory. You think you can take my home, live off of my earnings?” Trenton’s face tightened. “Everyone knows you spend most of your time in the desert or isolated in this palace of yours. If you disappear, no one will even think to ask about it. But I can be merciful, Lord Mason. Start walking away, toward the forest now, and don’t look back. We’ll have your estate and your servant, but you’ll have your life.” God, he doesn’t know you at all, does he? What an insufferable little prick.

That desperate, wry humor she used so unexpectedly would have eased the tension in his chest, if Mason wasn’t preoccupied with the odds, her safety, and the fact that beneath the grim bravado, Mason could feel her terror. She was holding together so far, but her mind was too fragile. It wouldn’t take much to snap her. Darkness was already swirling in her mind, taking away her ability to think and act. It infuriated him that they’d entered his property, given his servant even a moment of fear. A darkness of his own surged up in his chest, only it would compel him past thought, into pure, murderous action.

He cursed himself for being off guard. Having three other vampires already in his home had covered their approach well. Thanks to the shift in loyalties of Gideon, Jacob’s vampire-hunting brother, Mason’s estate was off-limits to all but isolated rogue hunters, and vampires didn’t typically attack this way. He’d never expected vampires to approach from the water. Obviously he hadn’t reckoned on the impetuous stupidity of youth, or how destructive it could be. Or Trenton’s soon-to-be fatal audacity, in the face of Council ruling.

Pushing aside the self-flagellation for later, he focused on the vibrations of bloodlust around him. Most of it seemed directed at him, not Jessica, which told him, regardless of Trenton’s feelings, his companions wanted this property more than anything else. Of course, that didn’t make Jessica any safer from them, unless he was, in fact, killed.

He wasn’t making that mistake again. If he couldn’t take them down, he would make damn sure they took him out, and she would be safe.

“If I intended to let you survive this day, Trenton, I’d haul your ass before the Council and let you explain your actions to them.” He swept his gaze over the others. “Even if you managed by some miracle to kill me, they’ll still hunt all of you down.”

“Doubtful.” Trenton sneered, an unattractive look for his otherwise attractive features. “The Council doesn’t like you all that much.

And for all your fierce reputation, we figured a way to reach your property without detection, my lord. You’re outnumbered and cornered, and I think you’re nowhere near as dangerous as Council thinks.” He jutted his chin out, glancing at Jessica. “Why protect her? Why is she worth that?”

“This has nothing to do with my human servant,” Mason retorted. “You’ve forfeited your life for attempting to take what’s mine. As far as being outnumbered and cornered, hunting a crippled rabbit on open ground would be harder than ripping your hearts from your chests.”

He narrowed his focus on Trenton and could imagine doing it, enough that his fangs started lengthening. There was some nervous shifting, but he already knew intimidation wasn’t going to do the full job. They were too committed, too bolstered by their numbers to back down.

“You’ve gone stupid over a human cunt, the same way it’s ru mored you did three hundred years ago,” Trenton snarled. “Once we chain you down and punish her for her crime against Raithe, maybe you’d do well with some pain yourself, to remember what being a vampire is about. Maybe you’ll beg for my mercy.”

“This is ending only one way, Trenton. With your death.”

“Not if we get you first,” the vampire to Trenton’s right snapped. Yanking the crossbow to his shoulder, he fired, despite Trenton’s angry shout of protest.

During the exchange, Jessica had been struggling to hold on to her composure, to remain as outwardly dispassionate as Mason. As the tension built, she’d realized this was going to escalate quickly beyond a war of words. She’d warred between growing terror, anger, and an overwhelming need to escape, to run.

When the crossbow fired, that desire disappeared. She leaped up. At the same moment, Mason’s voice resonated in her mind. Not the rebuking tone he’d used in the past, but pure command, the voice of a Master who would be obeyed, or there would be Hell to pay.

Get down.

She dropped without thought, but he was already on her, yanking her down and spinning as several arrows shot over the railing, singing past the arrow that had fired at his chest. It spun off into the gardens, but one of the others went into his side, above his hip bone. Fleetingly, she realized it was where her unprotected back had been a blink before. He shoved her back down, putting her against one of the wider support posts, and then turned to confront the vampires. Snatching the arrow out of his flesh, Mason tossed it aside, ignoring the spurt of blood that stained the waistband of the jeans, though Jessica gasped as some of it splattered her skirt.

“You’ve already lost, Trenton,” he hissed, his voice roughening, traces of civility disappearing. “She is beyond your reach, and in truth, far above your worth.”

Jessica’s gaze rebounded to his face in time to see amber burst into flame, his face transforming into the rictus of a desert djinn about to unleash Hell. The voice that resonated in her head was raw with fury. They won’t get to you. I swear it.

“Your fight is with me,” Mason stated, now ignoring Trenton, instead moving his gaze over all the rest. “Take me down, children, and all the opulence you see is yours. Enough to bloat parasites like you.” He bared his fangs. “But you have to kill me to get to it.”

“Actually, your fight is with all of us.”

Trenton spun around. Danny stepped out of the shadows from the open ballroom doors. She held a saber in either hand, the blades catching the flash of the outdoor sconces. Dev was at her side, wearing a brace of pistols, as well as an impressive array of daggers and wooden stakes. He had a shotgun leveled on his shoulder, the green eyes that had smiled at Jessica at breakfast now cold and steady.

“And he’s right, Mason,” she added. “The Council doesn’t like you. You really need to work on those people skills.”

“This isn’t your fight.” Mason kept his unsettling gaze on the vampires holding crossbows, the menace in his voice unmistakable.

“Damn right it isn’t. Doesn’t mean I’m not a part of it now.” She flicked her attention at Trenton, catching him in a glance toward the upper level. “Took care of those crossbow snipers behind the widow’s peaks. Dev’s very handy with a knife. Not to mention your servants are slow.”

Jessica noticed several of Dev’s blades were bloodstained, as Danny offered a chilling smile. “You shouldn’t ever use first-marked servants for an attack.” Her blue eyes glinted with a tinge of red, revealing a hint of the formidable Region Master that Mason suggested she was. “No way for them to tell you they’re dead, or under attack. If you want Mason’s land, have the balls to fight him like a vampire, not a fucking human hunter.”