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"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.>"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.
