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“Does he? And whose fault is that?” She glared a challenge at this man who had walked the ancient world.
He sobered, and she silently congratulated herself for getting through to him, for possibly touching the human in this being as she had in Dominique. Which, of course, had been her sole reason for wanting to meet Kambyses in the first place—to have him taste her blood, join with his mind, and reintroduce him to his humanity. Given his age and presumed influence over his descendants, this had to be the way to trigger those changes Serge prophesied.
Also, it might save her life.
Had he fed from her, though? She couldn’t remember. She felt no soreness on her neck and nothing in her head felt out of place. Then why the hell was she here on this yacht with him? Why was she still alive? Where was Dominique?
Unease squelched in the pit of her belly, but she refused to let it balloon and interfere with what might be a productive conversation with this extraordinary being.
When he remained quiet, she tucked her hair behind her ears and put her journalist hat firmly in place. “Will you tell me something? Why do you pursue him when he’s made it so clear that he wants nothing more to do with you?”
This earned her a slight frown on the prominent brow. “You know what I am and what I can do, and yet…your only thoughts and words are of Nico. Why?”
“Is—isn’t he the reason I’m here?”
“You are the reason you are here. Your…hold on him…fascinates me.”
“So we’re back to Dominique. Why are you so fascinated by him? He’s a product of the twenty-first century. I’m sure you know older, more interesting vampires to hang out with?”
Kambyses’s gaze grew unfocused as he stared past her. “None are like him.” His voice sounded as mesmerized as it was mesmerizing. He appeared caught in his own dream as he continued. “Nico is the very essence of us. He is brash, yet he loves. He is courageous, but he fears. He can be brutal, and so very tender. He is…pure emotion.” His voice dropped to a reverent whisper. “And I will have him. I will have his devotion. Above all, I will have his heart.” The cold, black eyes locked onto hers. “You are his heart, are you not?”
A shiver rattled her as she tried to make sense of what he said. “You—you’re using me to control him?”
He shook his head, a movement so slight she almost missed it. “You will help me teach him what he must know to be at peace with himself. Is that not what you wish for him?”
She could scarcely get the words out. “He is at peace. When he drinks from me.”
Kambyses sounded almost bored. “A rare but unfortunate compatibility of the blood, nothing more. It shackles him to a mortal world that is beneath him now.”
“Does it?” she murmured, only too aware of her own status as the only mortal in the room. What did he imagine her part in this lesson should be? As a lesser life form, her chances of survival hovered near zero, if not below—unless she made herself a heck of a lot more important to him—and fast.
Letting the sheet slide down to expose her shoulders, she moistened dry lips with the tip of her tongue and regarded him from beneath lowered lashes. “Have you ever experienced such a connection?”
He watched her, hawk-like, but said nothing.
“Have you ever been that known to anyone?”
He tilted his head. She let the cover drop all the way to her waist and leaned toward him on one arm, exposing the side of her neck with her best vein. “Have you considered that since Dominique and I have this connection, you and I might also?”
Kambyses sounded entranced. “You wish to know me? As you know him?”
“Yes.” It was like sprinkling catnip before a cat. She knew she had him when his pupils expanded the rest of the way, obliterating all the whites of his eyes. The fangs emerged between full lips and his face narrowed, his flesh hewing closer to his bone as his beast rose.
No, not catnip, she decided, fighting not to recoil. More like raw meat…before a hungry tiger.
No fear, Chandler, she exhorted herself. You can do this. Not that there were other options short of leaping overboard. If she was to be deemed worthy of survival beyond her value as a hostage, she had to connect with this being. He would have to feed from her. She would have to know his mind.
Holding his gaze, she lay back in the pillows and arranged herself so that her neck was exposed and inviting, along with her cleavage in the red lace negligee.
Kambyses bent over her, a smothering wave of smoke and ash. She heard him inhale her scent before he scooped her up and held her tight enough to constrict her breathing. She gripped his arms, silky and hot to the touch, and tried to loosen his hold, but wriggling out of a burning trash compactor would have been easier.
Cassidy closed her eyes and fought the claustrophobic panic threatening to suck her under. Keep it together, Chandler. A few more seconds and this will all be over.
He murmured something in her ear in a language she didn’t understand. Then those fangs pierced her skin, hard and deep.
Know me!
Kambyses struck her conscious mind like a lightning bolt shattering a moonless night. Blinded and incoherent, her thoughts staggered about, groping for the intruder.
