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Merde, what had she done? He should have expected this, warned her not to react, no matter what. Of course, she would have sensed their link burn to cinders under the onslaught of the fire-blood. And of course she would attempt to storm to his rescue—right through the gates of hell.
Run, he begged. If she heard him, she gave no sign, her attention locked on Kambyses, the mad look in her eyes a bizarre mixture of fear and—God help them—challenge.
“This is a private conversation,” Dominique said with authority, attempting to wrest control of the situation. Cassidy’s eyes flashed to him, frowning. He put compulsion in his voice, prayed she would accept it. “Leave us.”
The frown deepened before understanding dawned…too late.
“Stay,” Kambyses said, switching to English, the compulsion quiet but powerful. He rose from his seat as though levitating, his propped up leg swinging forward to take his first step, a predator stirring to the hunt.
Dominique heard her breath catch at this nonchalant display of strength and fought the impulse to back away himself. This was the version of his sire he knew so well, the true version, and what Kambyses wanted him to become as his eternal companion. Dominique shuddered to think he had considered it, even for a moment.
But it might well be too late.
There she stood—his brave lioness, his reason for being, his last link to humanity—in the middle of the room, her eyes shiny and huge, her fingers fidgeting and heart pounding.
Stay still, mon amour. Stay calm. Do not speak. Do not think.
Kambyses walked behind her, taking in every detail. His fingertips touched the chestnut halo of her hair. His nostrils flared to drink her scent. “This is the one who is aware of you.”
There was no point denying it. Pretending calm thought instead of the dread swarming up his body, Dominique got up and moved closer. Cassidy’s eyes found him, apprehensive and questioning, but he focused on Kambyses, who never failed to destroy any mortal who drew his interest.
“Oui, she is. What does it mean?” he said, assuming the role of the curious acolyte his sire had ordained for him.
Kambyses considered him over her shoulder. He wasn’t quite her height, short for a man of the modern age. Strange how Dominique had never noticed that before.
“It means nothing,” he said, dismissive.
No, it wasn’t nothing. Not to him. Dominique struggled to show no reaction.
Kambyses brushed the back of his fingers against Cassidy’s cheek, making her face squirm. “You should not surround yourself with such petty distractions.” He caressed her jaw, her neck, her frantic pulse. Her throat bobbed with a nervous swallow. “They are temporary and meaningless.”
The look he slanted Dominique over her shoulder was clear. Drink her, it said. Drink to the death.
Dominique throttled his surging rage and morphed it into an arctic smile. “She amuses me.”
Cassidy arched a dubious brow. She had to know what he was doing. She knew him well enough to recognize this tactic, even without being privy to his thoughts.
But she would also know the danger she was in, and—as usual—showed no intention of backing down. With a shaky breath, she squared her shoulders and pulled down the zipper of her leather jacket.
His belly churned, then flipped and punched him in the spine when he recognized the dusty-blue sweater she wore underneath. “Non.”
She smiled with grim determination and shrugged out of the jacket. My turn, her eyes said as she tossed it aside. Then she pulled at her scarf to reveal the sweater’s slanted cut, which so provocatively emphasized the long column of her neck. The garment never failed to rouse Dominique’s lust—as it would any blood-drinker’s, Kambyses included.
The ancient vampire’s gaze darkened with arousal. “Very amusing indeed.”
“Is there something I can do for you? My lord?” she murmured, as if the ancient monster behind her wasn’t already irrevocably enthralled by her offer.
“No, there isn’t. Stop this,” Dominique said. As if Cassidy could. As if Kambyses would. When Kambyses glanced at him, he added, “She is mine.”
His sire paused for all of three seconds—maybe five—then he returned his attention to the expanse of silky, sun-kissed skin before him. He opened his mouth. Brutal canines appeared, laced with serum. Serum to reinforce what Dominique had already given her while taking more blood than he should have.
Assuming Kambyses intended to let her live at all.
Dominique struck with a ferocious speed that shocked even him. A fraction of a second is all it took to retrieve his katana and press the tip beneath Kambyses’s jawbone. Blood oozed around the forged steel. The stench of smoke smothered the air.
“I said no,” he said on a furious growl.
Solid black eyes burned in the ancient one’s skull, and Dominique let his own beast rise.
