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Mariela, please meet me in the garden, at your favorite place by the moonflowers. Best to be done with all of this at once. Though he cared deeply for his servant, he was still surprised how the prospect of what he was about to do sent shards of pain through his heart like emotional stakes. But he wasn't likely to return from this quest. It was rare a man had the opportunity to say farewell to all that was important to him before Death claimed him. He could say what he needed to say now, before he was beyond the ability to say anything.
Yet he wondered if it might be better to be like young Jacques, where Death took the soul away before such good-byes were anticipated. Perhaps the heart wasn't equipped to bear this much sorrow at once.
He was past any logical way to silence the denial that it had to be done. The postcard and the memories the Fae Queen's touch had unlocked had brought that to an end. He couldn't simply go on as before, pretending that nothing had to change.
When facing the end, the child often rose inside the man. But he wasn't a child, and there'd been a time when he faced the possibility of meeting the Grim Reaper every day. That proximity had made him insensitive to his own death. Now he had no shields to defend himself against what it truly meant. It seemed he had far more to miss now than he'd had previously.
Lyssa's array of nighttime blooming flowers were whorls of white silk against their green leaves. The garden on this end of the estate was remote from the ballroom, where guests might still be milling. Mariela was kneeling. If she hadn't been told what he needed, she assumed that patient, waiting position. It was how an InhServ put her mind fully into service mode, an almost meditative state until her Master made a demand upon her. Taking her hand, he lifted her to her feet, and brought her to sit next to him on a bench carved out of oak. Lady Lyssa loved moving water, so there was a fountain with a pair of sculpted swans crowning it. Their necks were intertwined, arcs of water spurting from their slim beaks.
As he explained his departure and what it would mean for her, Mariela's expression initially lacked comprehension. When understanding dawned, it was followed by puzzlement, hurt. Pain.
"My lord, have I--"
"You have done nothing but be an exemplary servant," he told her firmly, reaching out to capture a delicate curl of blond hair framing her face. "I forbid you to think otherwise. This has to do with a task I was assigned many, many years ago. It is something I must do on my own, without the benefit of my valued servant. I want to know you are safe, happy and in the care of a vampire who appreciates you as I do. Perhaps even better."
It was difficult for an InhServ to process being released from service through no fault of her own. He was not a man who normally tolerated repeating himself, but she deserved his patience and far more. He told her in several different ways. Since she was wrestling with her emotions, he expected she wasn't really hearing the words, but she would recall them later. Or rather, he hoped she would.
"May I ask a question, my lord?"
He caressed her silken cheek. Lord above, she was truly lovely, inside and out. "You may speak plainly to me, Mariela. Ask anything, and I will answer it as best I can."
"When...will Lord Brian do this?"
It was past midnight. He steeled himself against the shock she experienced when he answered. "Today. The best time to do it is daylight, when I am sleeping. The process is less strenuous on you that way. The bond is stronger when I'm awake, you see. Without that logic, he would not have kept me from your side while it was occurring." He cupped her chin. Blessed Virgin, this was more difficult than he'd expected. He cleared his throat, removed his touch from her face but continued to hold her hand.
"He has said you will be disoriented for a short time. You are welcome to speak to him or Debra about it and he will not consider it inappropriate. I think he enjoys the opportunity to talk about the process they discovered."
Mariela didn't return his faint smile. "So soon."
"Yes. It's best that way. I'd rather you not have to dwell on it."
She said nothing further, though the misery in her face, the way she was staring a hole in his chest, inspired him to lift her face to his again. "You have been a gift to me, Mariela. I think you know just how much. I cannot change my mind, but if there is anything within my power to ease the decision for you, I would gladly offer it."
Pressing her cheek into his palm, she kissed the heel of his hand. "You have always had calluses," she said. "No other vampire I know has those. A strong man's hands."
It was one of the most personal things she'd ever said to him. He knew she wouldn't ask him for anything. As an InhServ, she would deny wanting anything, faithful to her Order. However, unapologetically taking advantage of the dominance he had over her mind, he saw her wish dwelling there, a sad and forlorn kernel at the center of her churning emotions.
He had never sensed Mariela longed for the type of relationship with him that Jacob and Lyssa had with each other, but Uthe had denied her certain intimacies that could have enriched her service. While it wasn't something in his control, given his other priorities, he could give her that, as a thank you for her years of unfailing care for him.
"Yes." He drew her against his chest and wrapped both arms around her, inhaling the scent of her hair, her skin. "You may go to bed with me at dawn and sleep in my arms. When it is time, you will rise and go to Brian, but I will have you drink from my throat so that I send you to him strong and well nourished."
A tiny sob caught in her throat. A stake wouldn't have hurt as much. When had he become so sentimental?
Yet during her twelve years of service she'd probably been closer to him than anyone else. It was that way for most vampires and servants. The binding of the servant's mind to the vampire's through the three marks introduced an intimacy of thought that allowed the vampire to trust the servant like they trusted no other. Whether a vampire and servant had a traditional bond like his and Mariela's, or a unique one like Lyssa and Jacob's, that link was a critical and undeniable part of every vampire-servant relationship. Even if it wasn't acknowledged or valued by the vampire the way it should be.
His internal choice of words surprised him. The way it should be. Perhaps Mason was having more influence on him than he'd realized.
"I would...I would like to give you pleasure once more, however you require it," she whispered.
"Your very existence gives me pleasure, but yes, we will do that." He would give her the same, bringing her to orgasm several times, depleting her body, giving her heart a chance to purge through the physical release.
"My lord...you won't take a servant again, will you?"
"I do not see that in my future."
She nodded against his chest. It was easy and pleasant to keep holding her. She didn't seem disposed to move. "I think that's good."
"Why? Because I'm such an odious Master, and you're glad that no other servant will have to suffer me? Like your Torrence?"
He'd gotten her to smile, the pull of her lips a light pressure against his shirt. "Torrence could do with some suffering. Lady Helga spoils him."
"I'll tell her you think so, if you don't tell me why it's good that I won't take another servant."
A flash of uncertainty went through her mind, but he reminded her via their link she could speak plainly. "I don't think you need a servant, my lord," she said at last, slowly. "I think you need someone... I think you need love. I mean, someone in love with you, who you can be in love with as well. Someone...equal to you."
The hesitation was curious, but the thought that slipped through her usually impeccable mental discipline startled him to the core.
Someone who is as much your Master as you are mine.
She felt his stiffening and realized he'd heard it. She drew away, her face flushed. "Forgive me, my lord. I should not have...I didn't mean it exactly like that. There is a freedom of thought and feeling in the service of a Master. Your service to God, the way you describe it, it is somewhat like that, yet based in more earthly joys. I think yo
u deserve joy and pleasure, my lord. I think you deserve to laugh freely, to act like a lover with another. After all these years, I think you deserve the right to enjoy your life. You are so self-disciplined; I thought maybe, sometimes, you need permission to allow yourself that. The desires of a Dominant lover can do that. Even if you don't call him Master."
She knotted and unknotted her fingers as he said nothing. "If you will grant me permission to do so, I will take my leave, my lord. I realize I've overstepped myself. I will beg your forgiveness for my wrong thoughts as your parting gift instead." Her throat thickened over the words, and he realized she was close to tears, thinking she'd done something unforgivable as her last act as his InhServ.
Ah, hell. Despite the reputation of vampires for being touchy about anything that didn't fit with their view of themselves, he had never been that kind of vampire. He analyzed everything from empty compliments to hostile criticism for whatever value they provided. Mariela's thought had not been laced with resentment or negative feeling. She truly believed it, and the motive behind her explanation, whether or not the explanation was accurate, was based in her regard for him, which he had no reason to question.
