Night's Templar: A Vampire Queen Novel (Vampire Queen Series Book 13) (10 page)

When facing the end, the child often rose inside the man. But he wasn’t a child, and there’d been a time when he faced the possibility of meeting the Grim Reaper every day. That proximity had made him insensitive to his own death. Now he had no shields to defend himself against what it truly meant. It seemed he had far more to miss now than he’d had previously.  

Lyssa’s array of nighttime blooming flowers were whorls of white silk against their green leaves. The garden on this end of the estate was remote from the ballroom, where guests might still be milling. Mariela was kneeling. If she hadn’t been told what he needed, she assumed that patient, waiting position. It was how an InhServ put her mind fully into service mode, an almost meditative state until her Master made a demand upon her. Taking her hand, he lifted her to her feet, and brought her to sit next to him on a bench carved out of oak. Lady Lyssa loved moving water, so there was a fountain with a pair of sculpted swans crowning it. Their necks were intertwined, arcs of water spurting from their slim beaks.

As he explained his departure and what it would mean for her, Mariela’s expression initially lacked comprehension. When understanding dawned, it was followed by puzzlement, hurt. Pain.  

“My lord, have I—”

“You have done nothing but be an exemplary servant,” he told her firmly, reaching out to capture a delicate curl of blond hair framing her face. “I forbid you to think otherwise. This has to do with a task I was assigned many, many years ago. It is something I must do on my own, without the benefit of my valued servant. I want to know you are safe, happy and in the care of a vampire who appreciates you as I do. Perhaps even better.”

It was difficult for an InhServ to process being released from service through no fault of her own. He was not a man who normally tolerated repeating himself, but she deserved his patience and far more. He told her in several different ways. Since she was wrestling with her emotions, he expected she wasn’t really hearing the words, but she would recall them later. Or rather, he hoped she would.

"May I ask a question, my lord?"

He caressed her silken cheek. Lord above, she was truly lovely, inside and out. "You may speak plainly to me, Mariela. Ask anything, and I will answer it as best I can."

"When...will Lord Brian do this?"

It was past midnight. He steeled himself against the shock she experienced when he answered. "Today. The best time to do it is daylight, when I am sleeping. The process is less strenuous on you that way. The bond is stronger when I'm awake, you see. Without that logic, he would not have kept me from your side while it was occurring.” He cupped her chin. Blessed Virgin, this was more difficult than he’d expected. He cleared his throat, removed his touch from her face but continued to hold her hand.

“He has said you will be disoriented for a short time. You are welcome to speak to him or Debra about it and he will not consider it inappropriate. I think he enjoys the opportunity to talk about the process they discovered."

Mariela didn't return his faint smile. "So soon."

"Yes. It's best that way. I'd rather you not have to dwell on it." 

She said nothing further, though the misery in her face, the way she was staring a hole in his chest, inspired him to lift her face to his again. "You have been a gift to me, Mariela. I think you know just how much. I cannot change my mind, but if there is anything within my power to ease the decision for you, I would gladly offer it."

Pressing her cheek into his palm, she kissed the heel of his hand. “You have always had calluses,” she said. “No other vampire I know has those. A strong man’s hands.”

It was one of the most personal things she’d ever said to him. He knew she wouldn’t ask him for anything. As an InhServ, she would deny wanting anything, faithful to her Order. However, unapologetically taking advantage of the dominance he had over her mind, he saw her wish dwelling there, a sad and forlorn kernel at the center of her churning emotions.

He had never sensed Mariela longed for the type of relationship with him that Jacob and Lyssa had with each other, but Uthe had denied her certain intimacies that could have enriched her service. While it wasn’t something in his control, given his other priorities, he could give her that, as a thank you for her years of unfailing care for him.

"Yes." He drew her against his chest and wrapped both arms around her, inhaling the scent of her hair, her skin. "You may go to bed with me at dawn and sleep in my arms. When it is time, you will rise and go to Brian, but I will have you drink from my throat so that I send you to him strong and well nourished."

A tiny sob caught in her throat. A stake wouldn’t have hurt as much. When had he become so sentimental?

Yet during her twelve years of service she’d probably been closer to him than anyone else. It was that way for most vampires and servants. The binding of the servant’s mind to the vampire’s through the three marks introduced an intimacy of thought that allowed the vampire to trust the servant like they trusted no other. Whether a vampire and servant had a traditional bond like his and Mariela’s, or a unique one like Lyssa and Jacob’s, that link was a critical and undeniable part of every vampire-servant relationship. Even if it wasn't acknowledged or valued by the vampire the way it should be.

His internal choice of words surprised him.
The way it should be.
Perhaps Mason was having more influence on him than he'd realized. 

"I would...I would like to give you pleasure once more, however you require it,” she whispered.

"Your very existence gives me pleasure, but yes, we will do that." He would give her the same, bringing her to orgasm several times, depleting her body, giving her heart a chance to purge through the physical release. 

"My lord...you won't take a servant again, will you?"

"I do not see that in my future.”

She nodded against his chest. It was easy and pleasant to keep holding her. She didn't seem disposed to move. "I think that's good."

"Why? Because I'm such an odious Master, and you're glad that no other servant will have to suffer me? Like your Torrence?"

He'd gotten her to smile, the pull of her lips a light pressure against his shirt. "Torrence could do with some suffering. Lady Helga spoils him."

"I'll tell her you think so, if you don't tell me why it's good that I won't take another servant."

A flash of uncertainty went through her mind, but he reminded her via their link she could speak plainly. “I don't think you need a servant, my lord,” she said at last, slowly. “I think you need someone... I think you need love. I mean, someone in love with you, who you can be in love with as well. Someone...equal to you."

The hesitation was curious, but the thought that slipped through her usually impeccable mental discipline startled him to the core. 

Someone who is as much your Master as you are mine. 

She felt his stiffening and realized he'd heard it. She drew away, her face flushed. "Forgive me, my lord. I should not have…I didn't mean it exactly like that. There is a freedom of thought and feeling in the service of a Master. Your service to God, the way you describe it, it is somewhat like that, yet based in more earthly joys. I think you deserve joy and pleasure, my lord. I think you deserve to laugh freely, to act like a lover with another. After all these years, I think you deserve the right to enjoy your life. You are so self-disciplined; I thought maybe, sometimes, you need permission to allow yourself that. The desires of a Dominant lover can do that. Even if you don't call him Master."

She knotted and unknotted her fingers as he said nothing. "If you will grant me permission to do so, I will take my leave, my lord. I realize I've overstepped myself. I will beg your forgiveness for my wrong thoughts as your parting gift instead." Her throat thickened over the words, and he realized she was close to tears, thinking she'd done something unforgivable as her last act as his InhServ.

Ah, hell. Despite the reputation of vampires for being touchy about anything that didn't fit with their view of themselves, he had never been that kind of vampire. He analyzed everything from empty compliments to hostile criticism for whatever value they provided. Mariela's thought had not been laced with resentment or negative feeling. She truly believed it, and the motive behind her explanation, whether or not the explanation was accurate, was based in her regard for him, which he had no reason to question. 

Plus, he couldn’t deny those last two statements had called to mind one very troublesome yet undeniably Dominant Fae Lord.
The desires of a Dominant lover can do that. Even if you don't call him Master.

His Order didn’t approve uninhibited laughter, or joy except in the service of God, which was supposed to be sufficient. It truly always had been for him, until recently. A few hundred years was a good track record for self-discipline, but the problem was he couldn’t relax that now. Not when he needed it now more than ever.

"I will dismiss you, Mariela, but only because I seek an audience with Lady Lyssa. At dawn, I expect to have your company in my bed, as we discussed." He rose, drawing her to her feet before him, and lifted her fingers to his mouth, pressing his lips there. "You are my servant tonight, Mariela, but your honesty tells me you will also ever be a worthy friend and ally. I thank you for that, and things too numerous to count."

Another little sob escaped her, and he folded her into his arms once more, giving her an admonishing squeeze. "None of that now," he said. “You will break my heart.”

"I know. I'm sorry. But I will miss having you in my heart and mind, my lord. I will miss you greatly. You always made me feel...safe."

"You will always be safe." Her reaction sent a ripple of bloodlust through him, the weapon a vampire could call to hand so quickly when violence was needed. "You may not be my servant after today, but your well-being will always be mine to guard. While I'm away, if you have cause, go to Lady Lyssa. Do not hesitate, because I know you will not bother her for something minor. If you are harmed because of your unwillingness to protect yourself with the resources at your disposal, I will not be pleased."

"Yes, my lord." Her arms were around his back and waist, strong and sure. She would be all right. He knew she would be. She'd always been capable and independent. The perfect servant.

U
the stepped
into the Council meeting chambers. In Berlin, it had been an intimidating place, even without the world’s most powerful vampires seated in it. The dark stone and torch lighting conveyed menace, as if the room had been a torture chamber before it had been converted to meeting space. Since the Berlin headquarters was an ancient castle, it wasn’t entirely impossible.

The Council room at the Savannah estate had a high ceiling crisscrossed by decorative timbers. The timbers were wrapped up in night blooming jasmine vines that received sun from a circular sky light. When they met here at night, the skylight gave them a view of the moon and stars. One of Lyssa’s many fountains gurgled in the corner, several koi swimming lazily amid the rocks. The tapestries on the wall, depictions of battles and histories of the vampire race, had come from Berlin, but here they seemed more heroic and praiseworthy, less sinister and monstrous.

Lyssa preferred torchlight in the wall sconces, the only similarity between the two chambers, though there was electricity if needed. Tonight, firelight flickered off the tapestries, making the images on them seem to move in small ways. It was as if the events depicted were happening somewhere else still, in another dimension, and he was looking at them through a window.

This chamber and the whole of the Savannah estate reflected the message of Lyssa’s leadership. Respect and obedience to her rule, and that of the Council, weren’t the result of trappings or surroundings. It was the fairness of the decisions they made, and the power they had to enforce them consistently. The strength and authority to rule a species as volatile as vampires rested inside the mettle of the Council members themselves.

In Berlin, the Council table and chairs had been placed on an elevated platform, so any petitioners were looking up at the Council when they came before them. Here the solid dark wood chairs, cushioned in rich gold velvet and carved with decorative engravings, were arrayed around a matching crescent-shaped table positioned on one level floor. At five feet, Lyssa was not a tall woman, but she had no need of height. One look into her jade green eyes, and any vampire with a scrap of sanity would recognize the ancient power there. 

He’d seen her call it forth, when she wrested control of the Council from Belizar in one astonishingly brief fight. She could have staked him, but she was as much diplomat as warrior. She’d known Belizar almost as long as Uthe had, and understood the same thing Uthe did about the former Council head. Power and blood drove Belizar as it drove most vampires, but it wasn’t true evil or maliciousness, like that which had infested Alanna’s Master, Lord Stephen. Plus, Belizar had a keen intelligence and a brutal directness to him that were assets to the Council, as long as they weren’t at the rudder. He was better at the prow, for when a battering ram was needed.

“You are much in your mind these days, Lord Uthe.”

She’d come upon him unawares. Most vampires had a proximity alert to other vampires, knowing when one was within as much as a quarter mile of them. When many were staying in one house, awareness took a more practical form: a cognizance of movement, of scent, of a change in the air. He supposed he must trust Lyssa like no other vampire, because it seemed an unconscious choice to accept her approach without any awareness of it. He recalled Keldwyn had done the same earlier, though Uthe had attributed that to careless distraction.

“I am, my lady. I apologize if it has caused any dereliction of your needs.”

“You think I would be circumspect in telling you so if it was?”

He smiled. “No, my lady. I always appreciate your directness.”

As a result of Lyssa’s wary relationship with her Fae half-sister, Uthe had already known Lord Reghan was Lady Lyssa’s father, but until Queen Rhoswen touched Uthe’s hand, Lord Reghan had only been a name to him. Now that he had more to go with it, the regal resemblance was unmistakable. Neither father nor daughter had minced words when it mattered, and both had that vivid jade coloring in their eyes.