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And now it will be her tub, the place where I’ll bathe and make love to her until she forgets about this night.
I scrubbed the dried flesh from my horns. The rough edge of the sponge scraped it all off. The muck dropped to the floor around my hooves. I paused to stare at those big black things that had replaced my toes and feet and looked as though they belonged on a mammoth horse rather than a vampire.
Will my feet ever return? And if they do, will I ever really be me again?
I returned to washing the muck off me.
And what of Camille? She said she needed my blood. Why would she say something like that? Where did this need come from?
But if it was my blood she needed, then fine. I’d give it all to her, every drop, until I couldn’t live any more. I’d fill the liquid to the top of buckets and barrels, tubs and pots. She could have it all, if she promised to never leave or get into harm’s way like that again.
“King?” The soft voice sounded behind me.
“Queen.” I dropped the sponge and turned around.
She barely stood, more like leaned her body on the edge of the tub at the center of the room. Her leather costume hung off her body in tears and rips. That fiery red hair swung back and forth as her head drooped low. And her hair was longer and brighter.
She’s changing too. . .
Her eyes fluttered as if even blinking required a lot of strength.
I rushed over and grabbed her. “You can’t stand up yet. Let’s lie you back down.”
“Blood.” She enclosed her arms around my neck. They trembled on my shoulders. “N-now.”
“I’ll give you my blood. I just wanted to wash the death off of me.” I undressed her.
Inch by inch the leather slid down her now black skin. Bright glowing symbols marked her flesh and shone within the candles’ light.
What is this?
I paused around her thighs, where the marks seemed to form symbols of some sort, ones that swirled and curved outward and inward.
What’s happening to her? Is this a bad reaction to the knife’s magic?
I turned the handles and put some of the bath soap into the tub. Water poured out of the faucet and spilled into the marble tub. Steam rose from the stream as it filled the space.
I lowered Camille into the water. In the middle of her breasts lay smooth flesh with a triangle as bright as white light.
What do these marks mean? Who could tell me what’s happening to her? Ian maybe?
According to Leeta, Ian had been locked in a room making love to dominas. I had no time to check. After killing so many guards in the Quiet King’s room, exhaustion had drained my body.
I rushed off with the few guards who swore service to me, raced down to the dungeons to free the Phinova Dominas, and fled the castle with them all.
An exasperated breath fled my lips as I climbed into the water and sat next to my love.
The whole time, she gazed at me, her view staring at my huge horns and traveling down to my blasted hooves. The water enveloped those monstrous things that replaced my feet.
They’d been sore from the journey, maybe because they were new. The liquid’s warmth soothed the bottoms and the throbbing area near my ankles where skin met the solid hardness of the hooves.
“Blood.” Camille leaned her head back on the edge and closed her eyes. My arm smoothed against hers. Those flaming red strands splayed across the tub’s edge and draped down to the floor.
Within an instant, I cut one of my wrists with a fang and held it over her parted lips.
“Here you go, my queen.”
Dark red blood dripped out and leaked into her mouth.
She shuddered and groaned. Her tongue licked her lips. Her chest rose and fell. After several minutes of drinking my blood, she held her hand up as if to say stop.
I moved my wrist away. Blood still spilled out and mixed with the soapy water, but in less than a few minutes, the wound would heal and the blood within my veins would replenish inside my body.
I centered all of my attention on her. “Camille?”
A soft giggle escaped her mouth. “Am I no longer your queen?”
She can talk better now. And it is her. . .truly her. . .just. . .different.
I moved closer to her. Water rippled and spilled out of the tub’s edges. I captured her, dragging her little frame onto my lap and pressing her soft body against mine. “Queen?”
Her heart beat louder and stronger in my ears. I rubbed my face against her cheeks. “How do you feel?”
“Better.”
“Do you think it was my blood?”
“Yes.”
She turned and pressed her breasts into me, her nipples hard points against my chest. “Your blood hummed this long, soft tune that never ended. I don’t know why or how I knew it was your blood. It just—”
