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Full-body shivers will do that to you.
“No more did you,” he pointed out.
“I wasn’t . . . sure . . . I hadn’t imagined it,” I said, trying not to squirm. Because he still wasn’t moving. If there was any doubt that vampires were superhuman, this ought to cinch it. No human man could just stand there like that. Could be buried in my body, to the point that I could feel his heartbeat echo my own, deep inside my flesh. And then just stay there.
He was going to freaking kill me one of these days.
“I was,” he told me. “But I didn’t know what we were dealing with. I still don’t.”
“That’s what had you so upset?” I asked. “That someone could tap into your brain through mine?”
“Not just mine. I am in mental communication with the Senate on a regular basis. If my mind was compromised . . .”
“That’s really what you thought?” I’d noticed that Mircea had been avoiding me lately, but I’d just assumed he was busy. And once or twice I’d wondered if he was having the same trouble defining our relationship that I was. But I should have known better. Mircea was a master vampire and a Senate member. And despite what he’d said, they didn’t have problems with relationships.
They took what they wanted.
Like when he finally, finally started to thrust.
And I suddenly forgot how to breathe.
“We are at war, Cassie,” he murmured against my skin. “And our enemies have proven . . . resourceful. They tapped into the power of your office through the ward you used to wear, did they not? Used it to help them bring a god through the barrier?”
“But I . . . I don’t wear that anymore.”
“No, but you now wear a spell, one invented by the same people we are fighting.”
“But laid by my mother.”
“Yes. To allow her to talk with the council. Can they still access your mind?”
“I . . . don’t think so,” I told him, because yeah, time for twenty questions, Mircea!
“But they could at one time,” he pointed out, his breathing still even, although mine was becoming ragged. “They must have been able to, if your mother could use you as a conduit.”
“Yes, but they shut that down. Or . . . or they said they did.”
“And the word of a demon is to be trusted,” he said sardonically.
“Maybe not,” I said breathlessly. “But they’re on our side in this—”
“The demons are on their own side.”
“But that happens to be ours right now, doesn’t it?”
“Does it?” He shifted position slightly, and the gentle undulation he’d been doing picked up speed.
And strength.
Oh God.
“How do we know?”
“We know . . . because they hated . . . the gods,” I told him stubbornly. Refusing to let him have the last word just because he was pounding me into the desktop. “They . . . fed off them, like the demons feed off us. They slaughtered . . . thousands of them. My mother did in particular. It was demon energy she used to build her wall—”
“Something you did not bother to mention.”
“We haven’t exactly . . . had much time . . . to talk!”
