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Margetta had already told him and he’d been struggling to create a plan to get them both out of the fortress within the next few hours. Nothing had come to him and maybe that’s the reason he lost it. But he suddenly cursed long and loud, then roared into the night. He shouted every foul word that would come to mind.
Only when he stopped, he realized the entire sparring line now stared at him, including Fulton who was levitating in his direction.
Fulton. A mastyr vampire.
I’m coming to you. Somehow. Now. But I’ve got deal with Fulton.
He had to think fast, to get the hell out of there without tangling with Fulton. But how?
Then he knew what to do, the one thing that would make sense to every vampire in the sparring line, including Fulton.
“I need to feed,” he shouted. “Now.” Without one more word of explanation, he bolted toward the female slaves’ quarters, those women who serviced the men with sex as well as the vampires from their veins.
When he was out of eyesight, he slowed but retained his direction. He had to think. How was he to get into the fortress at this hour? Yet getting there seemed more critical than anything else he’d experienced in the past year. He had to get back to Sandra and he had to bond with her. And it had to be now.
The lay-out of the fortress came to mind. The central entrance, though at a distance from the kitchen, was sheltered by tall hedges surrounding a large, rose garden and an expansive lawn. In that respect it was completely hidden from the army camp.
He made the decision, because it seemed the only way to get into the fortress with the least amount of eyes on him. He levitated swiftly and as soon as he saw the breach in the hedge that indicated the entrance to the garden, he slipped through, then flew to the carved double doors of the main entrance.
He pulled them wide and walked in.
Sandra, I’m in the entrance hall. I need you to come to me now. We’ve got to figure this out.
I’ll be right there.
He drew deep breaths. He was filthy from sparring and this part of the fortress was full of marble and silk. Even his boots were dirty.
He heard running footsteps, light quick swishes on the stone then the marble floor. Sandra was forty feet away when he caught sight of her at the end of the long hall. She began running in earnest, levitating at the end.
His throat tightened as he headed in her direction, skirting a table with a tall flower arrangement to finally catch her up in his arms. She didn’t seem to care that he was sweaty and once more covered in mud or that all the grime would no doubt end up on her white gown.
She kissed him as though her life depended on it and he returned the favor.
Back to my room, Griffin, now. You have to bond with me. You have to.
I want nothing more.
She drew back just enough to look at him. Carry me and levitate. If you go fast, we can avoid the next shift of maids who will be heading up here in about two minutes.
He didn’t need another command. He held her tight against him and flew faster than ever, straight up the servants’ stairs, along the hall and back to her bedroom.
Once inside, she locked the door again. When he stepped away from her he was appalled. “I got your gown dirty.”
“I don’t care.”
He looked at his arms, at the recent sparring bruises, at the still healing cuts, at the streaks of mud, and he didn’t want to think about what he smelled like. “I’m taking a shower.”
Her smile was crooked. “Then I’ll help.”
At that, his lips curved. “You can’t fit in there with me. The shower’s barely big enough for me as it is.”
“I know that. But I can stand nearby and soap things up. Big things.”
He groaned. They were playing with fire, because if either of them was caught … He wouldn’t think about that.
Instead, he moved into the bathroom and got rid of his boots, then his leathers. He’d been given a vest to wear and stripped that off next.
He heard an odd sound coming from Sandra. Turning toward, her, she had her hand to her mouth and her eyes were wide. Her gaze was on his ass.
