“I’ve two hands,” the courtesan called out, “And if any of ye gents are excited and wish a little groping—”
Immediately two other men climbed up. Transfixed, Althea watched Mr. Peters pump and the raven-haired man thrust his hips at Ruby’s mouth while she rubbed up the pricks of the last two men to join in.
Somehow the tangle of bodies all managed to move together. Faster and faster. More and more urgently.
“Oh god, I’m coming!” Ruby cried. She screamed as the orgasm took her, thrashing between the two men who sandwiched her tight. Her hands clutched the cocks so hard it must hurt the men.
At Ruby’s cry, Mr. Peters went utterly rigid. His face contorted, his eyes shut, and he bucked forward. He didn’t moan or groan, as though he was holding himself in great control.
And as Mr. Peters succumbed, the one of the last two men to join erupted, and his white, molten come poured over Ruby’s hand. Like dominoes, the men fell to pleasure—the second squirted into Ruby’s palm and the one in her mouth pulled free and sprayed his seed over her throat. The droplets clung there, white and pearlescent, like a pearl necklace.
“But he’s not come,” Ruby moaned. “The one up me arse. ’e’s got stamina, this one.”
“If you want to make me come, you’ll have to work at it, wench,” Zayan growled. “Sit up on me.”
Mr. Peters moved off her and the other men stepped back so Ruby could sit up. She bounced frantically upon the cock impaling her. Her large breasts swung up and down with her motion. In a half-dozen bounces, Ruby came again.
“Get off me, lass.”
Weak, with half-closed eyes, Ruby whispered, “But I’ve not finished you, sir.”
“I doubt you could. But I’ll wash and perhaps return, if you wish.”
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Ruby lifted off him with a sated sigh. “Oh I would want you to return. You’re a blooming challenge, you are.”
Althea almost cried out as Bastien licked her neck. “Little Ruby has no bloody idea,” he groaned. “And I’m so aroused I’m about to explode.”
And so was she. She could barely breathe, her body burned with need.
Zayan gave a deep chuckle and got up from the chaise. The other men were dismounting the stage, presumably also to wash, but as Zayan stepped down he was greeted with an ovation from the audience. He didn’t bother to fasten his trousers, and moved off with his erection jutting ahead.
“I think it’s time,” Yannick said.
Bastien should have guessed his final confrontation with Zayan would occur in a brothel’s bechamber. By the light of one candle, his maker was washing his privates in a washbasin mounted on a table.
It didn’t seem sporting to attack a vampire with his trousers down. But, then, in his mortal life, had he ever truly been an honorable gentleman?
He stood on more than just the threshold to the lavishly appointed room—he stood the cusp of the choice that might mean his final destruction. He could risk his own life and destroy the man he once loved. Or lose his brother and risk Althea’s life—because once one of the Demon Twins died, Zayan would be unstoppable.
But Zayan could have easily let him die in the gutter, and it was hard to betray the man who’d saved him from that. Hard to destroy the man he suspected had taken revenge on his father.
Time to choose.
Bastien lifted his hands. A mild blast shot from his raised palm and exploded in the center of Zayan’s back. It singed fine wool, no doubt from London’s foremost tailor, but it wasn’t intended to wound.
His maker swung around, bellowing a howl of fury that sent a quiver of excitement up Bastien’s spine. A vivid green bolt shot from Zayan’s hand. The stream of light punched through the oak column at the foot of the bed and missed his shoulder by inches, exploding instead into the wall. Chunks of plaster flew and dust rose up in the air.
“So you have made your choice.” Zayan inclined his head, eyes glowing with fire. But on his face was sadness and Bastien reeled at the sharp jolt of guilt.
“I couldn’t let my brother die.” He glanced to Yannick who had joined him in the room.
“So of course, you would not be willing to kill him, would you?” Zayan smiled. He crossed his arms in front of his massive chest, a chest Bastien had explored and kissed.
Bastien had loved this man once, with a fierce need that had consumed him, but now, he knew, he loved Althea more. And he loved one other person…
“No. I might envy my brother,” he said, “but I love him more than that. Even if he does upstage me with emerald necklaces.”
Bastien could sense Althea’s rapidly beating heart. She was standing behind him and he Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 184
could taste her tension.
Rest easy, sweet dove
. Her pulsing blood sang to him.
He remained calm, weighing up options and watching Zayan, who watched him with the same motionless appraisal.
It was like this before a duel.
He sensed Zayan would not strike until he did. Lucifer had given him the power to destroy Zayan because the ancient vampire was too powerful, but he knew Zayan wasn’t entirely without mercy.
We should take him down now.
Yannick’s voice in his head was curt, abrupt. A man ready to commence battle.
Wait. Give me just a moment more.
“Zayan,” Bastien called, “I’d lay down my life in place of my brother’s if you would promise not to hurt Althea.”
Zayan’s dark brows rose in surprise.
“But even if you promised it, I am not confident I could trust you.” Bastien shouted out in the gloom. “Come to me, Your Highness, Elizabeth, Queen of Vampires. I’ve a bargain to strike with you.”
She appeared in a flash of golden light. He almost laughed at the sight of her. Elizabeth—
Madame Roi—looked exactly like a successful madam—bedecked in rubies, heavily made-up, squeezed into a provocative gown, and ravishingly beautiful. She looked a dewy-faced twenty-five—yet she’d walked the earth for a millennium.
“Ah, the Demon Twins. And pretty Miss Yates.” Painted lips curved into a bewitching smile. “A bargain, dear Bastien?” she asked. “And what sort of bargain do you wish to make?
If you back down from combat with Zayan now, you will be destroyed. This is as Lucifer has commanded.”
He knew that now.
He shrugged. “Lucifer strikes deals all the time—he might give me a new one.”
Her Highness laughed. She waved her bejeweled hand and Zayan appeared to slip into a trance. “It will not last long, Bastien. So make haste. What do you want?”
Bastien felt a tug at his sleeve and glanced back. Althea stood behind him, her hand at his elbow. “What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Gambling.” He grinned.
“So, what is your offer?” Elizabeth asked, tapping her chin. “If it is sexual in nature, I am intrigued, but it won’t be enough, I’m afraid.”
Bastien winked. “I wish it were, my dear Queen, but alas, I am now a tamed man. I plea for safety for the woman I love, for the safety of my brother, and for the life of vampire who made me. In return, I offer
my
life.”
“Bastien, no.” Althea’s fierce whisper touched his heart.
But he couldn’t back out now. Not even for her love—this was the only way to protect everyone he loved.
“You offer your life in place of Zayan’s?” Elizabeth repeated in disbelief.
Did everyone assume he was a selfish scoundrel? “Yes,” he said, fighting impatience. “I can’t destroy Zayan, nor can I bring myself to betray him. But that would mean that Yannick Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 185
dies, leaving Althea at risk of great harm, which I could not stop. By failing to destroy Zayan, I die anyway. But I know that you can imprison vampires, in the same way that Zayan imprisoned me. And I offer you anything you ask of me in return for imprisoning Zayan.”
“And you believe that will satisfy Lucifer?”
“I believe you could convince him to accept it.”
Once more, Her Highness’ mouth curved in a feline smile. “Perhaps I could. But why give such clemency to Zayan?”
“He never hurt me. Other than Yannick, he is the only person to show me only love, not pain. He is capable of love. Of humanity. He attacks out of anger, his need for power comes from once being powerless. I don’t understand his past entirely, but I know it was brutal. As a general, he knew that the penalty for failure was death. And he had everything taken from him—he told me how his wife and children were slaughtered. Not by the enemy, but by ambitious men he believed were his friends. Could he not be freed to rejoin his family? Not destroyed, but released from immortality?”
Elizabeth crossed her arms beneath her generous breasts. “And the payment for such a favor is your death? But if I wished to have your death, I would have it anyway in just a few hours, so that does not tempt me.”
Bastien held his hands out, palms up. “There must be something I have that would tempt you.”
“There might be…but it is too early to request it. It would be more interesting to wait—”
Hell and perdition, ancient vampires always tended to speak in riddles.
“Anything you want from me,” he repeated.
“It would interest me to try to bend Lucifer to my wishes,” she mused. “He is a stubborn old goat. And it would intrigue me to control Zayan—to have his power under my command. Not that I intend to free him, but merely to…use him for my pleasures. Lucifer has forbidden me from interfering but now that you—the assassin he created—have come to me to request that I give Zayan clemency, Lucifer’s wishes no longer govern me….”
She gave a regal nod. “Then it will be done.”
Zayan, still standing motionless, with his cock still exposed and upright, vanished.
Bastien stared. He hadn’t expected her to agree. “Where the hell did you send him?”
“Oh, not to hell. He’s been imprisoned in a place that pleases me. A dimension between life and death. A place that possesses all the beauty of earth in its most primal state. A place I do enjoy visiting with a male worthy of existence there.”
“You’ve sent him to Eden?” Bastien asked, trying to understand this dimension, this world he’d never heard of.
“I have imprisoned him in paradise. And now—”
“No, wait.” Althea surged forward, pushing past him. “What of Yannick? What of Bastien?
They will be safe, won’t they? Even though Zayan wasn’t destroyed?”
“The bargain was that they destroy Zayan.”
“But Zayan has been stopped,” Althea shouted. “Isn’t that good enough?”
“And what if it is not?”
“Do you mean that they will die anyway? That isn’t fair.”
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“We are demons, my dear,” Elizabeth answered. “We are not
fair
.”
“No, please, you can’t let this happen. Let me bargain with you. Take my soul in place of their lives. Please.”
“Your soul? How intriguing. I wondered if you would offer to sacrifice it, my dear.”
Before Bastien’s horrified eyes, Elizabeth reached out to Althea.
Terror gripped his heart. God, not that price. No, he wanted Althea for eternity, but dear God, he knew he couldn’t let her give up her soul. Yannick was right—she deserved life and happiness.
“No!”
Bastien saw Yannick launch forward and haul Althea back. “You are not getting her soul.”
With his preternatual speed, Bastien moved between Althea and the queen. Elizabeth laughed, a soft melody that spoke of demonic evil. She sashayed forward until her fingertips touched his chest. He glared down at her as she walked her fingertips up to the base of his neck.
“I have no intention of taking her soul, gentlemen, but if she can help you find yours, perhaps you will live to see another moonrise.”
Bloody cryptic demonesses. “We have no souls,” Bastien snapped, “What do you—?”
But Elizabeth vanished.
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“If we are to die with the dawn, I want one last night of pleasure.” Yannick kissed Althea’s hand. She was lovely, the siren who had seduced him in his dreams. Behind the mask, her eyes widened. Around her neck, his gift glittered, emeralds that couldn’t compare with the vivid green of her eyes.
His carriage rumbled up to the door of Madame Roi’s, passing the long line of elegant coaches that waited outside the brothel.
Strange to think he hadn’t known of this club, though since he had escaped Zayan’s imprisonment he’d spent little time in London. The less the better, to help preserve his secret.
None of that mattered now. Not his care in protecting the family name by keeping his secret. Not his conviction that the most honorable option would be to let himself be destroyed.
Damnation, he didn’t want to die now.
Tears glittered at the corners of Althea’s eyes. One spilled over the mask, leaving a trail that glinted beneath the light of the street flare. “I am praying that neither of you will die,” she whispered.
His carriage stopped, horses snorting.
“I doubt praying will help Bastien and me,” he said ruefully. He took hold of her hand, small and delicate in white satin gloves, and handed her up into his carriage. He stroked her hip, ran his hand down her thigh as she moved up.
God, he wanted to touch her as much as he could.
Only a few hours to make love to Althea in every way he’d fantasized about.
Yannick could barely swallow as she disappeared into his coach.
Bastien grinned. “Tell your coachman to race home. We have a lot to do in just a few hours.” Then his expression sobered. “I’m sorry Yannick, I should have destroyed him. Then we wouldn’t be facing destruction—”
“I think I understand.”
Yannick looked up inside the coach to watch Althea settle her skirts around her, every inch a beautiful lady. She’d cried for him and no one had ever done that before.