Night Myst (Indigo Court #1)

Night Myst (Indigo Court #1) Page 17

"Somehow, I doubt all vampires hold to that creed. Are you sure you're not part of the Indigo Court?" I was joking, trying to divert the subject from Lannan giving pleasure to anyone, but apparently, my joke fell flat.

Before I could get out another word, Lannan had hold of me and in a blur, we were next to the wall and he slammed me against it. Tightly, he held me by the neck with one hand, pinning me to the wall with his body. Leaning close, his fangs glistened in the dim light.

"Don't ever suggest such a thing again, Ms. Waters, or--protection or not--you will be punished. And I will be the one to administer the punishment. And trust me, I look forward to that day. Oh yes, I do." A mixture of pleasure and anger filled his face.

I gulped in a breath of air, knowing now was not the time to try to squirm out of his grasp. That might lead his mind in all the wrong directions and with so much sex and feeding going on in the room, trying to escape was so not the thing to do.

"You belong to us now," he added, those brilliant white fangs of his just inches away. "Do not forget--you signed with your blood. Are you so eager for my attention that you willingly break the rules?" The touch of his skin against mine was cold fire. There was no warmth, just unrelenting chill that seeped through his fingers to spread through my body.

"Please, I'm sorry--I didn't mean to offend you. I was just making a bad joke," I stammered. We weren't playing a game anymore, I'd signed away my life and now any mistake I made meant they could collect bits and pieces of me any time they wanted. "I didn't realize how bad of a joke it was."

Leo and Rhiannon struggled in the background. Geoffrey and Regina restrained them, watching, their expressions neutral.

Lannan reached up with his other hand and stroked my cheek, drawing his fingernail down the skin, leaving one red weal. His strength was overwhelming. No wonder people were so afraid of vampires. And yet--if the Indigo Court had the vampires' strength plus their own powers, the other side of the army we were facing was even more terrifying.

I swallowed my pride--a hard, hard thing to do--and lowered my eyes. "I'm sorry. Please, forgive me." Those words cost me hard.

Lannan pressed against me, harder than he needed to, but then, after a moment, he slowly let go and stepped away.

"You've been given your warning. Next time you're so disrespectful, expect punishment. And when the time comes for your first blood donation, I'll enjoy taking it, and I'll make you come so hard that you'll scream my name, even if I can't put you in thrall. You have much to learn, Cicely, and humility is at the top of the list. And I am a master of teaching humility."

He turned away abruptly and motioned to one of the vampires who was standing near. She was dressed in a tight corset and long, narrow skirt. Her hair was done up in a bun and she looked flawless. Why the hell did most vampires look good? Even the aged ones, the bald ones, the scarred ones, looked delicious. Well, except Crawl. Crawl had been hideous.

"I need a bloodwhore. Female. Bring me one." Lannan's voice was hoarse and he kept his eyes averted from me.

I slipped away, over to Rhiannon's side, where she and the others flanked me protectively. Regina gave me a severe look, shaking her head slowly. Geoffrey blinked, but said nothing.

The vamp who'd sprung to answer Lannan's request returned, tugging a brunette behind her. The girl was wearing white, which so far had managed to avoid being spattered with blood. I had the feeling that was about to change.

I didn't want to watch, but Regina grabbed me, pushing me forward. She put her hands on my shoulders as she leaned down to whisper in my ear.

"You'd do well to watch, because this is what you will face if you screw up again. And if my brother is in one of his moods, it will be both exquisite and painful. Not enough to enchant you, but enough so you'll never forget his touch." She purred, laughing richly. "Or . . . perhaps you'll like it and choose to offer yourself into his stable."

"I wouldn't count on it, Emissary," I said politely, wanting to laugh in her face. But I'd seen just what reaction my sense of humor could spark off and didn't want to repeat my mistake with Lannan, who, at that moment turned to face me, his smile taunting.

He reached over the woman's shoulder and slowly stroked her breast under the white lace gown she was wearing. She moaned, her head slowly dropping back to rest against his chest. Lannan leaned down and, gaze still fastened on me, sunk his fangs deep into her creamy white neck while caressing her breasts. She gasped, her eyes widening as he pierced her skin, driving into her with a fury. Then a sudden glow crossed her face and she began to rub her hips against his groin.

I didn't want to watch. I didn't want to see what he was doing to her, how he was affecting her, but Regina held me fast, and her fingers tightened on my shoulders.

"Watch her--she enjoys his touch. She wants him. My brother's the best lover I've ever had. You really should try him. Maybe when he takes blood from you, you'll change your mind." Regina leaned against me, her breasts pressed to my back. It was freaky to feel no pulse, no heartbeat, no rise and fall of her breath.

Lannan reached down and I heard the sound of a zipper, and then, hiking the woman's gown, he slid into her from behind, thrusting in rhythm to the music, sucking at her neck, the blood trickling down from his chin, which was stained a deep red. The crimson rivulets channeled down the girl's chest in thin, moist lines between her breasts, and the bodice of her gown began to absorb the drops as they spread in the pattern of a tainted rose. She let out a groan, and wanton bliss spread across her face.

I shivered, unable to look away. I had no idea what the others were thinking but I was terrified. What if Lannan had this effect on me when it came time? What if I willingly let him fuck me because the drinking felt so good? I wasn't my mother--I wasn't a bloodwhore and I'd be damned if I'd let him make me one.

Regina's hands on my shoulders were burning cold--fire and ice right through my dress--and images of her trailing her fingers down to caress my breasts flashed through my mind. I caught my breath and she purred in my ear.

"You would fit in with us, Cicely. Give it some thought.

We could use a witch of your powers here in our world. And the turning isn't terribly painful. I would most happily be your sire, if you wished."

Shivering, I said nothing. What could I say? Everything out of my mouth seemed to be a mistake tonight, and I didn't want to make another.

Lannan stepped up the pace, driving into the brunette from behind. He focused on me, keeping me in thrall. I could see his tongue dipping to lap up her blood, his fangs sinking a little deeper, widening the punctures, a flowered bruise spreading across her skin. His thrusts and her cries were driving me crazy and I gasped, realizing that I wanted nothing more than to push her aside, to impale myself on him, to take her place.

At that moment, I hated him. But . . . oh, how I wanted him.

And then, with a final grunt, he pulled away from her and tossed her aside. She fell to the ground, dazed. His face was a bloody mess, his fangs needle-sharp and dripping, his cock slick and he was hideous again. I shuddered, revolted. He laughed then, quietly tucking himself back in his pants and zipping up. Regina pushed me forward to meet him as he slowly sauntered my way. I wanted to run but he wasn't finished with me. The predator lurked strong behind those icy black eyes of his.

He grabbed me around the waist and I could feel him still rigid, pressing against my thigh. He slid one hand down to caress the curve of my back, and the dress I was wearing seemed entirely inadequate. I might as well be naked.

"You want to fuck? All you have to do is ask. Beg me. Or . . . just make another mistake." And then, he leaned down and rubbed his face against mine, smearing the girl's blood across my cheeks as he fastened his lips against mine. The salty, metallic tang filled my mouth as he kissed me deep. And then, without another word, he let go. I stumbled, and when I steadied myself and looked up, Lannan had disappeared into the crowd. The pulse of the music throbbed in my head as the party continued.

My wolf growled, deep and angry and jealous. Somehow, Grieve knew that I had responded to someone other than him.

Twenty minutes later, we were outside, standing by Favonis. Leo and Rhiannon stared bitterly back at the house, and I knew they felt they'd failed me.

Truthfully, I didn't even know what to say. I felt dirtier than I ever had and yet . . . and yet . . . a knot in my lower stomach begged for release. The feel of Lannan's hands on my skin kept resounding through my body.

"Cicely . . . are you all right?" Rhiannon's voice filtered through my head. I turned to her. "I shouldn't have let you do it--I should be the one. Heather's my mother. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You wouldn't be able to cope with the vampires. And both you and I know that. If Lannan handled you the way he handled me, you'd be dead by now, imploding in some fiery explosion. I've learned how to build my defenses. You're just learning." With a sigh, I unlocked the doors.

Shaking my head, I climbed behind the wheel. "It was my choice. Don't worry. We'll have money coming in, we'll have gifts, and we'll have their help in rescuing Aunt Heather--and if they can--Elise and Peyton. It's worth a few bloody kisses for just that."

Forcing a smile to my lips, not wanting to tell them about my visit to Crawl yet, I screeched out of the driveway. The roar of the car set me even more on edge, and I floored the gas, speeding the whole way home. And nobody said a word to stop me.

As soon as we entered the house, after we did a quick search, I hit the shower, scrubbing myself until I was raw, trying to rid myself of the sleazy feel of his fingers on my skin. But the bloody taste was still there, even after brushing my teeth, even after I ate half a tin of Altoids in the bathroom.

I slowly padded back to my room and opened the door. As I entered, the first thing I noticed was the window was open. And the second was that Grieve was sitting on my bed, frowning, his eyes narrow and dark.

Chapter 13

The shock of seeing Grieve made me drop my towel. I stood there, stark naked, staring at him, unable to formulate a single word.

"Aren't you going to say hello, Cicely?" His voice tested me out, his words sliding over me like smooth balm on a stinging wound.

I stood there, closing my eyes as Ulean swept up behind me. I could feel her there, embracing me in her cooling breeze.

You have had such a horrible night. You need to relax.

Grieve circled me, his eyes on my wolf tattoo. "I felt you tonight. I felt you respond, I felt you quicken. Who touched you? I smell the scent of graveyard dust and tattered shrouds in your aura. What have you been doing?"

I slowly turned, matching his movements as he revolved around me. My pulse was beating in my throat. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't tell him what had happened. Rhiannon, Leo--their lives depended on my discretion. But what could I say instead? How could I deflect his questions?

"We were hanging out in a cemetery, looking for graveyard dust for spells. The energy's strong there." I didn't blink, didn't flinch.

"Then why are you so aroused? Why did your wolf warn me that someone was touching you?" He reached out, slowly traced the outline of my tattoo with one finger. His touch made my body sing.

"I don't know." I thought of telling him that a stranger had put the make on me, but then thought better of it. Grieve would go looking for someone to blame and find an innocent man. "Maybe it had something to do with the energy there."

"Perhaps," Grieve said, placing his hand flat against the wolf's head. "Tell me about when you got this tattoo. There are so many things I can't remember since Myst came to power."

Had the turning affected his ability to remember? It didn't seem possible and yet--Grieve was so like and yet unlike himself that I wondered. Swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, I said, "When I was fifteen, I dreamed of a wolf tracking me through the city streets. He was protecting me, watching over me. I didn't realize it was your spirit form. At the time, Krystal was hanging out with a tattoo artist named Dane, who was in love with her. He was one of the few boyfriends she had who was relatively sane. He paid for our room and board for about three months."

"Did he ever try anything with you?" Grieve asked gruffly.

I shook my head. "Dane was one of the few who didn't. He was a good guy. One night, we were hanging out, getting stoned. Krystal was out hooking for a few extra bucks. Dane was staring at me and when I asked why, he said he could see a wolf sitting next to me--a beautiful silver wolf with green eyes that came to life as he described it."

"It was me," Grieve whispered softly, drawing his hand across his eyes. "I remember. I did what I could in astral form to watch over you."

"I know that now, but at the time, Dane's vision just sounded so beautiful and I got to thinking about the protector in my dream. I asked him if he'd ink the wolf onto me and he agreed. I know it sounds stupid, letting somebody stoned tattoo you, but I knew--absolutely knew--that he wouldn't fuck up, and that I had to have this tattoo. And he'd done the rest of my tats over the previous few months, so I knew he was good at his job. We spent the night getting high on Acapulco gold and he worked on the wolf's head and the roses and skulls for five hours."

I closed my eyes, remembering. Around eight, he'd put in a Gary Numan CD--Outland--and played it on a loop, over and over. The only sounds through the hours that passed were those of the Electronica Wizard of Oz, the hum of the tattoo gun, and our quiet pull on the joints that he'd lined up on the table.

I'd watched as the vision from my dreams came to life in brilliant color, first the wolf with his emerald eyes glowing, then the trail of roses and violet skulls that swept across my midsection, from thigh to side. It had hurt, but the pot helped me transcend the pain and lose myself in the experience.