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“I don’t want to feed like that.”
“Would you rather feed on lust like a rutting goat?”
“Theardeurisn’t just about lust. I can feed on friendship and love, not just sex.”
“You are no devotee of Aphrodite, Anita. Though you may not be the warrior that the media has claimed, I believe that your true devotion is to Ares, my father. As a marshal you execute vampires and shapeshifters that had killed humans, so you bring vengeance like my mother, Tisiphone. You were made to be by my side, Anita.” He came toward me, holding out his hand.
I tugged on the chains, because I really didn’t want him to touch me.
“You complained about being forced to fuck everyone because of theardeur. I thought you’d be happy with a different alternative,” Rodina said.
“Is that what you told yourself to get around the whole being-my-Bride thing?”
“Partly,” she said.
Deimos was suddenly standing right beside me. I stumbled backward trying to get away, but the chains limited how far I could run. Was he that fast, or was he rolling my mind that easily? That thought finally scared me.
I pulled back to the length of the chains, stumbling a little in the carpets. He reached out for me. I plastered myself against the wall. If he could roll my mind from across the room, him touching me would be bad.
“Don’t touch me.”
“You cannot stop me,” he said, reaching his hand out toward my face.
“Consent matters, you son of a bitch.”
His fingertips touched my face. “Look at me, Anita.”
I closed my eyes.
His hand traced the side of my cheek until he cradled the entire side of my face. His fingers were buried in my hair past my forehead. God, he had big hands, and I didn’t mean that in a good way. “Look at me, Anita.” His voice was low and trying to be sexy, but I had years of Jean-Claude’s amazing voice in my head. Deimos wasn’t ballparking for sexy.
I could feel his breath warm on my face as he whispered, “Anita, my sweet, sweet queen, gaze into my eyes.”
I didn’t fight him, I didn’t even struggle, I just leaned against the wall as far as the chains would let me and kept my eyes closed. It was simple and he was less likely to hit me. Before Jean-Claude’s marks I hadn’t been sturdy enough to trade blows with a vampire. I got hurt back then, and I had no way to know if I was back to being human frail. If I was, then I was going to try less-violent resistance until I was out of options.
He kissed me, softly; the beard and mustache felt weird. I’d never dated anyone with a full beard before. The thought was so ordinary that it helped me think. Him touching my cheek didn’t make his powers stronger on me, and neither did his kiss.
Jean-Claude’s bloodline touch made everything stronger; a kiss was like a supernatural powerhouse move, but Deimos left me cold. I reached out to Jean-Claude, my turn to whistle in the dark past the graveyard. There was a pulse in the dark, not a word or a sight of him, but I knew it was him. I knew the feel of his energy almost better than my own. Our marks weren’t completely severed, just damaged. I’d felt it when Trappolino touched me. It was like my necromancy was helping me reach out to him. If more vampires touched me, would I be able to reach Jean-Claude and let him know where I was?
“Open your eyes and behold your husband,” Deimos whispered against my face. He was actually gentler about it than I thought he would be. He leaned back and I could breathe a little easier. “Why is she not reacting to my touch?”
“She’s been with Jean-Claude and his bloodline for ten years; touching her won’t win her to you, my lord,” Rodina said.
“You need for her to meet your gaze,” Rodrigo said.
“Look at me, Anita.” And there was nothing gentle in his voice now.
“Nope.”
“What did you say to me?”
“I said ‘nope,’ as in ‘no.’ ”
“If you hit her that hard, you might kill her.” Rodrigo’s voice was very close.
“She is supposed to be a worthy opponent of monsters,” Deimos said.
“She was with a full set of Jean-Claude’s marks on her.” Rodina was closer, too.
