Bound by the Vampire Queen (48 page)

On a sandwich, with ketchup and a side of chips,
came his eager brain, his nostrils already flaring at her sweet scent. He had too little control, and he couldn’t spare anything for finesse. So he simply slid his arm around her waist, brought her fast and hard against his chest so she tumbled against him. Her arms fell around his shoulders, but then gripped as he took hold of her hair, turned her face into his shoulder and sank his fangs into her throat.

He didn’t look at Keldwyn, didn’t want to see what look of distaste the tight-assed Fae might have on his face. He needed strength for Lyssa.
She won’t survive three days.
What wouldn’t she survive? The conditions of the desert? What dangers existed there?

He’d been sensible enough to release pheromones into Sellya’s blood, the vampire way of easing the pain and calming panic. True to her promise, though, she had a handle on her fear, though no mortal could have helped a racing heartbeat after that rude yank and taking. The pheromones calmed it, so it didn’t provoke his predator instinct.

Of course the pheromones came with another problem. Her hands were kneading his shoulders, and her generous breasts, loose under her servant’s dress, pressed into his chest, the nipples hard and needy. She was straddling one of his thighs because of the way he’d pul ed her down, and now she was mindlessly rubbing herself against it, dampening him with the slick moisture of her cunt, no underwear under the skirt of course. His cock couldn’t help but respond to it, because he was feeding. But he was as likely to fuck a gentle, helpful girl not in control of her faculties as he was to kill her. Plus, his lady was out fighting for her life, while he was getting hard and thinking of rooting on a serving girl like a mindless beast. That was enough to viciously balance the desire.

As Sellya got more aggressive, he made a low growl, startling her enough to tone down some of her reaction. After he’d fed enough, he eased her away, nodding at

Keldwyn.

Fortunately, the

Fae understood, bringing her back to her feet and steadying her as she swayed into him. Her dazed eyes were upon Jacob, her breath fast and shallow.

Lifting her, Keldwyn took her to the settee near the bed. He laid her down with a soothing stroke of her forehead. “Sleep,” he said. “Dream of your true love.” Her eyes closed, even though that sexy little body quivered with residual lust as she slid off into the place he’d suggested. Jacob turned his eyes away, wiping the back of his mouth with his hand.

“You could have done that at the first.”

“She said she didn’t want an enchantment. She’s given her heart to a Fae, I think. Humans. Always fascinated with others not of their own kind.” Keldwyn snorted.

“Well, since she was allowed to live here, I think some of that fascination goes both ways.” Jacob gave him a look. “Can I get up now without being knocked back down?”

Keldwyn nodded. “You seem much calmer.” As Jacob began to rise, he glanced down at the floor. Froze. A sunbeam from the window lay across his palm. And all he felt was the mild warmth of the autumnal sun.

From the beginning, he’d noticed he didn’t have the same sense of sunrise and sunset here that he had in the mortal world. He’d attributed it to the differences between the two worlds, some kind of Fae jetlag. But a vampire’s survival was based on an awareness of when the sun would rise. If survival wasn’t a factor, then his sense of it would be like the human one, based on sleep patterns or the clock or looking out the window.

Lyssa had left the curtain drawn, but inevitably a line of sunlight escaped from the sides, depending on the time of day. When he’d landed at the foot of the bed after that last repulsion, he’d been right beside that stray sunbeam.

“You bastard.” Striding to the window, he tore back the curtain. As the sunlight streamed in, he flinched, but it was psychological, not physical. The sun poured over his body, giving him nothing more than that mild warmth.

It had been well over a year since he’d felt the touch of the sun, been able to stand fully in its track like this. But that was a fleeting impression, because at the moment, other things were taking precedence.

Like wrath.

“I expected an Irishman to remember that all the stories of the Fae suggest their world is underground, such that any sense of the sun or moon would be magically filtered.” Keldwyn spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “However, while the Fae sun here won’t hurt you, the desert sun may be an entirely different matter. Fae enchantments can be organic, thinking things. Cruelly duplicitous. Even if it doesn’t burn you right away, you could find her, only to have your immunity to the sun vanish, making her witness your disintegration to ash before her.”

“Great.” Jacob stepped toward him. “So it’s like any other normal fucking day. I might die; I might live.

Why the hell didn’t you tell me about the sunlight?” Keldwyn looked mildly surprised. The Fae lord never managed to look anything less than diabolically sincere. “You never asked. And my loyalty, my interests, such that they are, are toward Lyssa, not toward her vampire servant.”

“Horseshit. If you have any loyalty to her, wouldn’t it make sense to give her the benefit of all the resources at her disposal? Like me.”

“Lyssa needs to accomplish this quest on her own.

Queen Rhoswen decreed I could give her no help to go through the desert, though she made a concession on my small offering of a container for your blood. The Fae queen wants that gemstone.” Keldwyn considered the window, the view beyond it.

“However, Her Majesty did not prohibit me from helping you. Particularly if you are going in separately, well after Lyssa is on her way.”

“Rhoswen really needs to retain a lawyer to deal with you. But thank the gods she doesn’t have one right now. Fine. How can you help me?”

“I can get you to the portal, and tell you where to find her. I can also give you weapons to help you get to her side more quickly. However, I can’t help you get past Cayden. You must do that yourself. I will meet you at the stables.”

Picking up the sleeping girl, Keldwyn moved out of the room, gone before Jacob could even retort.

Quickly, he donned the protective clothing Keldwyn had brought. He tucked the long hooded robe into the additional pack, which contained a couple flasks of water.

He’d almost forgotten about Cayden, until he headed across the courtyard and found the captain of the Queen’s Guard at the gatehouse. He sat with deceptive casualness on a stone bench, sharpening his sword. At Jacob’s appearance, his eyes got as sharp as the blade and he rose.

Jacob knew Cayden was a soldier, with no patience for Keldwyn’s silver-tongued cleverness.

Rhoswen didn’t want Lyssa helped in any way. That was the intention he’d uphold, no preamble or pretending otherwise.

As Cayden moved into a confrontational position, Jacob strode forward. He came to a halt several feet away from the male, just out of range of his weapon.

“Go back to your room,” Cayden said. “Or sit out here and enjoy the rare taste of sunlight, vampire.

But you’re not leaving.”

“You saw the spear go through her chest. She’s not your queen’s enemy. I’m going to go help her.” When Cayden leveled the sword, Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “Centuries ago, the Tuatha de Danaan were defeated by Gaelic warriors, despite all their fancy, enchanted weapons. If you need a reminder of that”—he took a matching stance, armed with nothing but determination and a brace of knives

—“this Irishman is prepared to do it all over again.”

“She may not be an enemy, but there are many gradations left between enemy and friend. As for you, we have no magical spear to destroy annoyances, so I will have to handle pest control with normal steel.”

Jacob sighed, straightened. “Fine.” Then he swung the pack at Cayden’s sword.

The straps tangled it. Before Cayden could lever upward, cutting through them, Jacob ripped the grip from his hand, sending the blade clattering over the cobblestones. He plowed into him head first, knocking him back against the wall. Cayden struck his back with locked fists, breaking free, but Jacob got in a hard punch to the solar plexus as he went down.

He’d hoped for and counted on Cayden being pissed off enough to make this a soldier’s fight, not a magical one, and so far he was getting his wish. But the guy was a seriously good soldier. Jacob landed in the dirt, blood exploding in his mouth, and barely had enough time to roll over and get his legs up to shove Cayden back as he charged in on him.

Leaping to his feet, he jumped on the man’s back, tumbling them both into the dirt. They rolled and punched, an out-and-out street fight. He wondered where Cayden’s men were. Maybe most were part of the ceremonial guard watching over Tabor and Rhoswen. Or perhaps Cayden wanted this to be just between them, which gave Jacob another idea, a faint hope.

He put everything into his next strike, a solid blow to the face that resulted in a payback crunching sound in Cayden’s nose, staggering him back. The man bared bloody teeth and roared, charging forward again. Jacob took the attack and fell back with it, going over with him in the dirt. He suffered a few face punches himself but then got in another solid body blow. He put his vampire strength behind it, knocking the wind out of Cayden.

Leaping up, he backed off, wiping the blood off his own face as Cayden staggered to his feet and began circling again. He didn’t charge right back in, however, telling Jacob he needed a minute. Good.

So did he.

“The only way you’re going to keep me from going after her is to kill me. So if you’re not prepared to do that, save yourself the beating and step aside.” The captain of the guard gave him a sardonic look. “I am not as thickheaded as you believe me to be, vampire. If you die, so does she. So you will not let me kill you.”

Jacob nodded. “I was planning to kick your ass anyway, beat you to unconsciousness, so it’s a moot point. But on the slim chance you get the upper hand, to stop me you'll have to take it as close to that point as you dare.”

Dropping his arms and offensive stance, Jacob came to a stop. Cayden did as well, eyeing him warily. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to love a moody she-bitch from hell ?” Jacob demanded.

“What would you do for her, your queen, if you knew her life was in danger and you weren’t with her?

She’s your heart, your soul, your reason for being alive.”

“I serve my queen,” Cayden gritted.

“Yeah. And that means sometimes you have to serve her in ways she doesn’t even know she needs, but you do. Damn it.” Jacob spat out the impatient curse, took three steps forward, coming toe-to-toe with Cayden. “If you want to serve her to the best of your ability, then throw out the fucking etiquette manual and use your heart, your soul, your gut, your cock. Do what
they
tell you to do. That’s the only way she'll learn to trust you. Stop doing every fucking thing she says, especially the things you know are wrong. Start loving her.
That’s
how you serve a queen.”

Cayden stared at him a long moment. The two men were of an equal height. Jacob was aware the man had a backup knife at his belt and his hand was on the hilt. It wouldn’t kill him, but Cayden could temporarily incapacitate him, if he didn’t move away fast enough, and Cayden was more than capable of moving faster than a vampire.

Cayden let out a sigh, lip curling in frustration. He dropped his hand from the knife hilt. “Go.”

“Do you want me to knock you out so it looks less guilty?”

Cayden raised a brow. “I will not lie to my queen, vampire. I take the consequences of my actions.”

“Are you sure? I’d be happy to punch you in the face until you’re unconscious.”

Cayden showed his teeth. “Go, before I change my mind about stabbing you in the chest.” Jacob was already moving. However, when he paused at the dividing wall between main and lower bailey, he looked back. Cayden was staring into space, his face a picture of abject misery.
Damn, damn, fuck.

Muttering a curse, Jacob took two swift strides back toward him, gaining his attention. “Your queen lost her father,” he said quietly. “A thousand years ago or not, in her mind, he abandoned her, turned his back on her mother, though he never promised her anything, except love for the child they’d made.

But Magwel rejected that, made that choice for Rhoswen. So in your lady’s mind, he turned his back on her for another daughter, another woman. She’s afraid of trusting any man, which means you have to teach her to trust. You have to stop playing the game all her way. Instead of following, take the fucking lead.”

That was the best he could do for the guy, but something in his gut had said it needed saying, just in case. He took off at a swift jog, headed for the stables. Once he turned the corner, though, the urgency gripped him even harder, such that he accelerated his pace.

He arrived with a gust of wind from his passage, leaving skid marks in the soil near the open double doors. Keldwyn controlled the startled reactions of the horses he held. Taking the reins of the nearest one, Jacob swung up onto the bare back in one lithe move. “I can’t touch her mind, but she’s in trouble, I can feel it. We need to hurry.”