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“Elisa—”
“I want to do it now on my own,” she said. “I’ll be okay.”
He nodded, but watched carefully as she hopped forward, then put the other foot back on the pedal. He held on long enough for her to get some forward momentum, and then he let go.
Elisa laughed, a delighted, nervous sound. “Oh, this is wonderful. You can go as fast as you can pedal.” When she increased her speed, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep pace with her and pass as human in front of the others biking or crossing the concrete to reach the beach. He stayed at a jog, slowing to a walk as she got farther ahead. As he watched, she made long, wide laps around him, becoming more and more confident. She rocked her body back and forth, taking advantage of her third-mark balance to let the bike make a serpentine track.
When a man passed her on his bike with his arms straight out, she had to try that as well. Of course her bike hit a loose patch of concrete, and she went tumbling. Heedless of whether or not he appeared to be more than human, he was there in an instant, but his worry immediately dissipated at her wry laughter.
“Got too cocky, didn’t I? Guess there’s a reason they call it that, because it seems it’s mostly men who try that kind of foolishness before they’re ready.”
Mal squatted, lifting the bike off of her, and saw she’d scraped her knee. She beamed up at him. “It will be gone in a moment, but isn’t it marvelous? Mr. Collins’s son fell off his bike one day and had one just like that. He told me it was going to be an even bigger scab than the one that Tommy Saunders got. He was so proud of it.” Her laughter became a soft smile. “He still wanted me to bandage it up and kiss it, though. Boys are funny that way.”
“Yes, they are.” Staring at her, he felt so full of . . . feeling. It took his voice, but at the same time made him want to say all manner of incredibly foolish things. He’d never been happier in his life than right now, with her, like this. It was a most astounding thought. He had a good life at his sanctuary, no question, but he’d never felt so full of another person, so in need of them. He wanted to share that with her, but didn’t. He’d never opened himself up like that, as human or vampire, perhaps because he’d gotten too used to protecting himself from what might change. Like her, assuming nothing was permanent. But he did follow another, safer impulse.
“Well, seeing as it’s going to be gone in a few moments, we won’t need the bandage. But the kissing . . .” Bending over it, he placed his lips there, spending several discreet moments stroking his tongue along the abused area, sending a little quiver through her as he held her thigh beneath the dress hem, caressing bare flesh, feeling the heat between her legs increase. After giving the knee a thorough washing, taking away all the blood, he made her laugh by pretending to spit out bits of gravel. Then he pressed a single kiss to the center.
“You ripped your hem. I owe you a new dress.”
“Seeing as you bought it, and I ruined it, I think it’s just the opposite.”
“Yellow isn’t my color. And you look much better in that bodice.”
She giggled at him, then put her hand over her mouth, an admonishment not to give herself to such youthful silliness. “Well,” she said at length, “if anything is owed, I think the bicycling lessons were a fine trade.”
Abruptly, her expression changed, her eyes becoming large and deep, her mouth soft. “I want to speak to the carousel operator, and then I want to go back to Lord Marshall’s. I want to pack our bags and go back to the island tomorrow. I want to be in your bed with the canopy, and all the sounds of the lions, leopards, cheetahs and cougars. I want to see Jeremiah and the others, and give them the good news. Will you take me there?”
Despite her earlier words, she didn’t say, “Will you take me home?” He was a damn fool for wishing she had. She understood how things were. She always had, always would, and he was supposed to appreciate that in her, not want her to get soft and sloppy over him. He’d told her once they got the fledglings resolved, he would ask her again if she wanted to be his third-mark, if she wanted to stay with him, and after that all choices would be his. But looking at her, he didn’t know if he’d ever ask the question. She fairly oozed commitment and family. Even if her answer was yes, it would be because of that generous heart and deeply submissive nature. It wasn’t what she truly wanted. He couldn’t take that away from her.
“Yes, I’ll take you there.” He helped her up. As she brushed against his body, he held back the urge to crush her against him, give her a much more heated kiss, one that would erase all those reasonable thoughts. It had to be the magical stardust of the fair, making the impossible possible, and the unlikely far too appealing.
She couldn’t afford to have her heart broken again, he reminded himself. She didn’t have the emotional distance necessary to be a vampire’s servant. Kohana had told him that in his usual impertinent, blunt way, and Mal knew the gruff Indian had told her the same, in less direct terms. The way she’d handled herself at Grant’s had proven it. Her natural submission had gotten her through it, but it had torn something up in her, her body betraying her heart.
However, he didn’t interact with vampires that often. He could count on one hand the number of times over the past five years. He wasn’t an overlord or Region Master with political aspirations. He didn’t even really have to bring a servant for most trips. He could probably keep it restricted to Region Master or overlord demands, and seeing that that would be Lady Lyssa and Lord Marshall, both of whom had servants Elisa now knew and liked, it would be manageable.
Even if the fledglings all left, he could offer her the choice to stay until she felt comfortable returning to Australia and Danny, when enough time had passed to help heal the ghosts that lingered there for her. That was logical, reasonable, no commitment involved or promises that could be broken.
If it was such a logical choice, he could say it right here, right now, and it would be done. She’d certainly accept it, and that would be that. But he couldn’t make his lips move to form the words. Whatever it was—the biology of the third mark, the way it made a vampire view his third servant, or something deeper he didn’t care to analyze—nothing inside him had any interest in leaving the damn offer open-ended.
Which meant, for her own good, silence was his best option. He’d be like the damn Sphinx and let her go—let her go home—as soon as the fledglings were settled.
38
NADIA and Marshall would come to the island in a month, and the boys would be brought to them a month after that. They’d agreed to that schedule based on Mal’s determination of how long it would take to ensure the boys were ready to be part of an actual household.
Elisa thought he might have to amend that timetable, however, because since they’d let the boys know they had a future, they were making progress in leaps and bounds. Over the next several weeks, it became a regular thing, having the boys visit the house one night, the girls the next. On one memorable evening, Mal deemed all four ready to be there. They’d taught them cards, and Nerida had even shyly climbed from Elisa’s lap into Malachi’s, holding his cards for him. She’d shown a particular trust for him ever since the Leonidas incident, and though he tried to appear immune and unaffected by it, Elisa could tell their smallest vampire’s trust touched him.
The boys fell right into Mal’s trap when he offered them a game of fifty-two-card pickup. They’d had so much fun racing each other to pick up all the cards, though, she wasn’t sure they really understood it was a joke, not a game, or if they even cared. They were all starting to verbalize more, fangs notwithstanding. Lord Brian was scheduled to visit around the same time as Marshall and Nadia, which meant they could be part of discussions about that and other matters regarding the fledglings’ state.
The news for the girls was equally good. Mal had made contact with a Lord Mason in South America. Through Lady Lyssa, Mal had found out the little-known and unusual fact that Lord Mason had created a foundation to assist human women who needed to escape dire circumstances. His initial focus had been women in the Middle East, but he’d been known to expand that reach. While of course Miah and Nerida weren’t a perfect fit for his philanthropic endeavors, through the conduit of Enrique, his full servant, the vampire lord became interested in their situation, and agreed that he might give them a home at his estate. If they learned enough control, he could find them a place in one of his women’s communities where they would essentially disappear from vampire eyes, and have his marked protection.
So almost everything was looking bright as sunshine. On those evenings at the house, Elisa would talk to them about the places they would be going. Nadia had sent gifts for all of them, not just the boys, but for the boys she’d also sent a photo and sketch album like Elisa had, so William and Matthew could see the house, the rooms they were creating for them, and what their new benefactors looked like.
While Lord Mason was not available to come to visit the girls, Enrique and his wife, Amara, would be coming to visit.
“Lord Mason’s full servant has a wife?” Elisa’s brow had lifted to her hairline at that news. The children had gone back to their enclosure for the night and she was in Mal’s room. As always, he wanted her stretched out naked on his bed at the near dawn to feed, as well as to enjoy other things she had to offer him. It was a part of her day she always anticipated, perhaps too much, but he seemed to thoroughly and deeply enjoy it as well. Enough that tonight he’d decided they’d turn in a couple hours earlier than usual.
Even now, his gaze was caressing her skin. He’d had her lie on her stomach, her legs spread so he could enjoy the curve of her arse, her dampening pussy, as he stripped off his shirt. Pulling open the top button of his trousers, he toed off his shoes. Coming to sit on the edge of the bed, he molded a palm over one buttock. She laid her cheek on her folded arms, watching him, waiting for his answer.
“Yes. They’re both third-marked, both Lord Mason’s servants, but Enrique came to him first. Later, when Enrique married her, at her request, Mason made them both fully his. It’s a unique situation, one we don’t see too often.”
