Bastien plucked the glass from her hand and drained it. Licked his lips. “Delicious.
Smooth wine, the taste of a delightful woman, and even the flavor of my own flesh.”
“Time for home,” Yannick said.
Home! How could she go home after this night? What would she say? Surely someone had noticed her missing?
Had Father? Or was he still hunting? Dear heaven, she hadn’t spared him a thought when he was putting himself in danger. Had he encountered Zayan after the vampire had escaped? At least Zayan was weak.
So many secrets must be locked in this house. Zayan had to be stopped, and if Bastien would not do it, she and Father must. During daylight she could explore in safety. She put her thoughts, her plan, into words. “I could learn much about Zayan.”
Yannick shook his head as he moved her foot off his lap.
She put her hands on her hips, intending to argue. But she didn’t. It wouldn’t be necessary.
She would merely return with Father.
She swung her legs around the side of the bed and jumped off. In the day, Yannick and Bastien would be safe—
“But wait. Where will you sleep, Bastien?”
“Are you daring me to return to that room you locked me in at the Inn?” He grinned cheekily, flashing fangs.
“You could. I can assure you that no harm will come to you.”
“Perhaps I will then, little dove. I would sleep a happy demon knowing that you watched over me.” He yawned. “We have an hour or more before dawn. Enough time to make love again.”
Without further ado, Bastien dropped to his knees in front of her and buried his face in her cunny. It was so quick! Pleasure rushed through her and she clung to his broad, beautiful shoulders. Her legs buckled but he held her thighs, held her wide as he licked her burning clit.
She was going to explode.
Yannick watched her as though mesmerized, his molten silver gaze fastened on her face as though he were entranced. She must look wanton, dishevelled. A flush bloomed over her cheeks. Her lips parted as she panted. Her hair was a mass of tangled curls, dancing around her as Bastien rocked her over his mouth. Rocked her hard against his hot, slightly rough tongue.
Her eyes shut tight. Her juices flowed like a spring river bursting a dam.
“Lord, she soaked me,” Bastien rasped. “With a flood of sweet honey.”
She heard, from somewhere close, Yannick’s hoarse groan in response.
All she could think of was the wonderful explosion building between her legs. Just a little more and—
Hands took hold of her ass cheeks. Startled, she looked down to see Yannick on his knees at her rear. He’d done this before, kissed her this way, but in combination with his brother’s caress, it seemed too shocking for words.
“No,” she gasped.
Oh yes
, they chorused.
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Yannick touched the tip of his tongue to her puckered entrance and she sobbed. Althea wanted it so. Just as she’d wanted everything else. To her shame, she realized all she wanted was to come. She was so close, so tantalizingly close, and she knew—simply knew—that both men would take her to the most incredible ecstasy. To hell with rules, with emotion, with proper behavior.
She wanted. And they offered. And if she loved both and was caught up in this unbelievable dilemma, she didn’t care. Not now.
Yannick’s tongue circled and coaxed. Heat seared and his wetness made her slick and accommodating. His tongue filled while Bastien’s rasped and sawed and drove her mad.
Say my name
, they both urged at exactly the same moment.
Yannick’s tongue plunged deep, and her sensitive rim throbbed as his tongue spread it wide open. Bastien suckled hard, as though he sought to suck her aching nub right off her body.
Oh, you truly are demons
, she cried in her head.
Oh, oh, oh!
They shared a very demonic laugh. Plunged, suckled, teased her thighs. Faster and faster.
She shattered, like fragile glass. A thousand pieces spinning through the air. She cried out, lost her legs completely, and they supported her as each lush spasm racked her.
Just as she toppled over the peak, they took her there again. Another orgasm on the heels of the first. She sobbed and sobbed. Thrashed and bucked with it as fireworks, worthy of a Vauxhall extravaganza, exploded before her eyes.
She was coming and it was primitive and wonderful and wild. And her twin vampires held her tight as she rode upon their faces.
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Yannick held Althea close, possessively, as he spurred the gelding along the rough lane as fast as he dared. He stifled a groan as her lush bottom bounced upon his cock. Clamped tight in his trousers, it tried to stretch toward the two plump cheeks subjecting it to sensual torture.
The sleeping village lay before them and a break in the trees at a stretch of black field gave a glimpse of the horizon. Deep black melted into dark purple and midnight blue.
Yannick squeezed his thighs against Ares’ flanks, urging the beast into a faster pace. Dawn was close. Bastien followed, in the shape of a bat, swooping about them. Determined not to leave Althea alone with him, he realized ruefully.
He took the reins in one hand and wrapped his arms around Althea’s waist. She fit beautifully against him, an intoxicating mix of opposites—soft, abundant curves paired with indominatable courage, shown through her straight spine and the confident tilt of her head. She was a unique woman. Stubborn and sensuous, intelligent and fiery. Brave but not foolhardy.
I am trying to understand exactly why Bastien refused to slay Zayan.
Of all the things he thought she might be thinking, that was not on the list. He’d hoped she was reliving their more sensual moments. He’d hoped she was thinking what a wonderful lover he was.
He would prefer to discuss his prowess in bed.
I don’t know, sweet
. And he didn’t. He could guess that Bastien somehow knew of the terms of Yannick’s release from imprisonment and had decided to wait until the next full moon.
In mere days, if Zayan wasn’t destroyed, he would be—and that left Bastien to claim everything.
Title, wealth, estate—for as long as he was willing to keep his nature hidden.
And Althea. The most precious treasure of all.
I can’t see a clear way to convince Bastien to kill the man he has shown such love toward
, he said.
They were lovers and it seems that there is still…feeling
.
She twisted in his arms, and her cheek pressed against his chest—where his shirt was unbuttoned. The bumping contact of her satin skin set his on fire.
Yes, that is true, isn’t it? I
saw the way they touched. They were aggressive and combative sometimes but every touch
was…was charged with love. There was tenderness underneath.
So she’d understood that.
But if he wasn’t willing to destroy Zayan out of revenge
, she continued, moving gracefully with him as they trotted.
What other possible motivation could there be?
I don’t know, angel,
he admitted once more.
And there is no other way to kill Zayan?
What if you were to weaken him and then I stake
him?
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No, it needs both Bastien and me.
Her chin tipped up a notch and her hair tickled him, driving him mad. He wanted to kiss her again on the horse. Hell and damnation, he wanted to make love to her on the galloping horse.
I refuse to believe it’s hopeless,
she insisted.
As much as her stubborn streak drove him mad, he admired it.
What was Zayan in his mortal life? Father wouldn’t tell me much about Zayan and I
couldn’t find anything written about him that told me.
Her bottom bounced on his cock again and Yannick struggled to think.
Zayan is an ancient one so he must possess a very bloody past
, she mused.
Althea was a single-mind wench. Sex with her had rocked him to his core, yet she seemed to be completely matter-of-fact about a passionate interlude with two men, as though it was not of great import.
He groaned into her wild hair.
Zayan does have a bloody past, sweet
. He spurred the horse to greater speed here, where the track was good.
As a mortal, he was a general, so he waged
war. I believe his mortal name was Marius Praetonius and he conquered much of Europe—
before the birth of Christ. He killed for glory, for necessity, but also for pleasure. Reputedly
Zayan drank the blood of his victims, even as a mortal, and developed an unholy thirst for blood.
Eventually, to satisfy his craving, and take the blood of more pure men, he began to sacrifice his
own commanding men. Then he craved the blood of innocents—
“Virgins,” she supplied aloud and her bottom rocked maddeningly over his prick.
“And children,” he added hoarsely. “As Zayan aged, he sought the blood of the young to give him life.”
She nodded in understanding. “Like Countess Elizabeth Bathory, drinking the blood of young women to keep her young.”
Even just talking about Zayan, Yannick found his grip on Althea tightening protectively.
Damn, he didn’t want her to hunt Zayan, but he knew that trying to keep Althea ignorant would not work. She was too stubborn. So he told her what he knew about his foe.
“But as happens to many brutal generals who become insane,” he explained, “Zayan was betrayed and his closest confidant, a general jealous of Zayan’s strength and success, attempted to murder him. Zayan escaped but was taken prisoner by the people he was attempting to destroy. They tortured him, yet he endured. He claims he made a pact with Lucifer to survive.
He bargained to walk as a devil among the human world, to enter into the service of Satan for eternity, and in return, he would turn living, breathing people into the undead, delivering their souls to the dark lord who craved them. But he began to believe himself stronger than the devil he served. He began to believe he could defeat his master. And so, when Zayan became obsessed with Bastien, my wild brother became the tool of Lucifer to destroy his monster. And then Bastien, under Lucifer’s control, turned me. Created me. To share the power, so no one demon would possess too much.”
“The tool of
Lucifer
?” Althea lifted up in her surprise and her derrière banged down hard on his cock. He soaked his trousers with desire.
“Do you—do you converse with Lucifer?” she asked, twisting again in his arms.
Why?
he drawled in her mind.
Would you care to meet him?
The last thing he needed was courageous Althea hunting Lucifier.
But you can’t stake him and destroy the Devil, love.
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Bastien was the tool of
Lucifer
? Alhea could hardly believe it. And what did it import?
What would the devil demand of Bastien once Zayan was destroyed?
Cold fear raced down her spine and she felt sick with horror. If the twins were truly in service to the devil, would she be obligated to destroy them?
“But are you in Lucifer’s service?” she persisted to Yannick.
“I have never made a bargain with the devil.”
“You said you did,” she reminded him.
“I mean that I never made one directly with Old Nick himself. And there are ways to free yourself of a deal with the devil, if you are careful.”
“So Bastien could be freed?”
“I don’t know, love, and I am growing too tired to think.”
She understood why. At the horizon, the deep indigo sky was lightening, and she saw the faintest glow of pink, the promise of sunrise. Yannick spurred his mount. With one arm and his powerful thighs, Yannick held her tight as they galloped into Maidensby.
And you, too, sweeting, need to rest.
Were all women generally coddled when they surrendered their virginity? She had no idea.
She was so unknowing about women’s concerns. She’d spent so much of her life with just Father.
But Bastien had treated her like an invalid, had carried her to Yannick’s horse. “Tender treatment for an injured former maiden,” he’d said.
They thundered up to the lane to the church and the churchyard where Bastien had been imprisoned. Yannick suddenly reined in. Above lay the gray stone church and the manse by its side. But ahead, bobbing lights were moving toward them on the road, coming up the hill.
Yannick brought Ares to a stop and she heard the beat of wings. This time Althea saw the shadow of a large bat swoop against the pre-dawn sky.
Bastien materialized in front of them. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Men with torches. Never a welcome sight to a vampire.”
“Lanterns, not torches,” Yannick corrected. He spoke in his jaded drawl, which she now realized he used to hide any sign of fear or weakness.
“It must be Father, returning from his hunt.” His hunt of the two men she had spent the night with! Guilt washed up like a wave. “Leave me here and escape. Please. I’ll take your horse back to the stables. I’ll claim that I took it alone to come out here.”
They were silent for a moment, a long, precious moment.
“Please,” she repeated, “Let me protect you.”
“They’ll guess you’re lying.” Yannick frowned as Bastien held out his strong, naked arms and helped her down. He brushed a kiss to her cheek as he set her firmly on her feet. “I don’t like leaving you alone to face their possible anger,” Yannick added.
“What other choice do you have?” she asked.
Althea’s father will want to believe her story,
Bastien added.
Finally Yannick nodded. He bent and murmured in the huge horse’s ear before dismounting himself. The black carriage horse stood, calm and docile as Yannick handed her the reins. It was an immense creature and she had no familiarity with horses.