Dark Studies (Arcaneology) (6 page)

She knew he was a member of the Covenant, but Angie hadn’t realized what a key role he’d played in its foundation. She’d met him when she was still Sarah Miller, before she understood anything about the Covenant or even about vampires in general other than the ones who’d enslaved her. In the years since, the Covenant had divided the North American vampire world into opposing camps: those who believed it was necessary for vampires to start treating humans as equals versus those determined to keep the old ways alive. When the Covenant began enforcing the new laws it had introduced among its member nations, polarization resulted. In independent nations, a leader who talked about joining the Covenant faced varying degrees of opposition, sometimes enough to pose a serious threat. One such nation was the Northwest Territory.

The Puget Sound Province was isolated on the edge of the Northwest Territory, an area that included Oregon, Washington, Idaho, and part of Montana. Its Monarch, Amelia Astor, sat on the fence between joining the Covenant and remaining independent. Her territory stood on the brink of civil war, divided almost evenly between those who supported the Covenant and those who despised it. Two leaders within the territory, one on each side of the conflict, were openly gathering forces intent upon a coup. Whichever won would decide whether the territory joined the Covenant or opposed it, and the outcome would either add to the Covenant’s growing momentum or deal it a serious blow.

Steffen Scott chose not to sit back and see what might happen. In the last two years he had offered support to the pro-Covenant faction so their leader could peacefully challenge Astor for control of the Northwest Territory. If they succeeded, those in the opposing faction would either be brought to heel or have to flee to other nations.

He hadn’t exaggerated about his enemies. In the current state of affairs, those in the Northwest Territory who stood against the Covenant would do anything within their power to take him out of the picture. His two children were somewhere in Europe, not easy targets, but if he formed an attachment with someone more vulnerable, that person would certainly be in danger.

Why did he want to? She knew a few vampires who kept human companions. Her protector was one of them. But the feelings those vampires had for their humans were only a pale shadow of what the humans themselves felt. In most cases, human emotions were simply a means to an end, something to manipulate rather than reciprocate. So why would Scott fantasize about such a thing? Yet it seemed it was something he wanted to feel, or at least pretend to feel.

And that made him vulnerable to her, just as she had been vulnerable to his kind when she was an innocent girl, all too eager to fall in love. What would it be like to wield that particular power over a vampire? Again and again, she went back to that question, and in the end she could not resist the temptation to find out.

Angie called him two days later. Lynette had refused to broker this deal. It was, in her words, a whole new level of crazy.

“This is how it will go,” Angie told him. “I’ll create a character. She will look different, sound different, smell and feel different than I do. She will have her own name. Her own personality. I’ll need input from you as to what this person should be like. She will be drawn from parts of me, but she won’t
be
me. That is the key to making this work—that we both never forget she is a fiction, a construct.”

Silence stretched out across the airwaves. She waited until he said, “I’m listening.”

“We’ll start midway into the relationship. Let it be a given that the two of you have been together for a certain amount of time, and the relationship has had a chance to build. We’ll create a history for them, a back story, in the same way actors develop their roles. This will require some imagination from us both, and a willingness to commit to playing our parts. Will you be able to do that?”

“I think so.” He drew out the words, mulling over her proposal. “I am willing to try.”

“Have you ever had a girlfriend before?”

“Is that relevant?”

“I need to know what you’re expecting.”

“I’ve seen relationships portrayed in films and on television, but I don’t know how realistic they are.”

Interesting. Apparently he’d never been in one. Perhaps he wanted to see what it was like before attempting the real thing.

“Most couples go out together. Dinner, movies, dancing, concerts, but our sessions need to be private. We can make up a reason for us to keep our rendezvous secret, if you don’t mind being a little unconventional.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Very well. I’ll e-mail you questions about their history, her personality, and the details of the fantasy. The more thorough your answers, the more authentic the experience. I’ll craft her based on what you tell me, and let you know when I am ready to begin.”

* * *

He had booked a suite in a hotel that catered to vampires. Its windowless walls provided protection from the sun. Coffins were available for those who wished, but Scott had chosen a bed instead. The linen sheets and spread were black, probably to hide the blood stains inevitable in such a place.

Angie sprayed a mist of lavender perfume into the air and stepped through it so the scent settled lightly onto her skin and hair. Then she studied herself in the mirror to make sure she had every detail right. Her hair was black now and layered to coax its natural wave into loose curls. With her tan, she looked like a gypsy or perhaps a Creole. She wore a white halter dress splashed with bright red and orange poppies, something Steffen had picked out, and it provided her with additional clues as to the sort of woman he wanted. Someone playful, she thought, confident but no femme fatale. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on becoming that woman, and played over the character’s back story in her mind until it began to feel real.

Her name was Grace Hamilton. The sun had just set, and her lover was on his way.

The sound of the door opening made her heart skip a beat. If this was going to work, they both had to buy into it from the start, without hesitation. Neither of them could test the waters first. These were the last things Angie thought before letting Grace take over. With a cry of welcome, she ran to Steffen and pulled him down for a kiss. He froze for a moment before wrapping his arms around her. He responded carefully, then his reserve gave way to passion, and he tightened his hold to press her body hard against his.

She gasped in a breath when they eased back. An attack of shyness caught her by surprise. She tipped her head to look at him. “Are you hungry?”

His gaze lowered a few inches. One fingertip traced the path of her jugular vein. “Yes.”

Grace took his hand and led him to the bed. He watched her crawl onto it and settle against the pillows. His expression was softer than she had ever seen, but his posture seemed wary. Beneath the character of Grace, Angie began to think this wasn’t going to work, that he couldn’t submerge himself in the fantasy.

“You’re beautiful.” He said it like a lover, low and intimate. Angie stepped back into the shadows of her mind, satisfied.

Steffen sat on the side of the bed to remove his shoes before joining her. Instead of leaning over to strike, he took her shoulders and guided her to lie across his lap, cradling her in with one arm while his other hand positioned her head the way he wanted. He paused. Was something wrong? Grace turned to look at him and saw an unguarded expression cross his features. He said nothing, only tugged her back into place. Then he raised her higher so he could reach her throat with his cold lips. They rested there. Caressed the soft skin. His teeth transformed into fangs that drew thin lines over her pulse, making her shiver, and at last he sank them in deep.

She hardly had time to feel the pain before pleasure overwhelmed it. She arched against him as he sucked blood from the wounds. Her breath caught. Warmth seeped out of her and into his mouth to spread throughout his body. It worked its way across his chest, down his arms, and lower. This was no fast-food meal—he took time to savor her, and she sensed his regret when he slowed to a stop.

Grace opened her eyes to find a puzzled, almost vulnerable look on his face. She wanted to explore whatever lay behind it, but he had made her want something else more. Curling an arm around his neck, she raised her head to kiss him.

A growl vibrated into her mouth. He eased her onto her back, stretched out so they lay close together, and deepened the kiss until her jaw ached. He’d grown hard against her thigh. Neither of them bothered to undress, simply pushed clothing out of the way enough for him to enter her. He was too tall to lie on top—it would have crushed her face under his chest—so while his hips pinned hers to the bed he kept his upper body twisted to the side, and he squeezed one breast, then the other with his large hand. When she bent a knee to wrap her leg around him, he reached down and held it there.

“God.” Her fingernails bit into him as he pulled out a little ways, then pushed back in, finding a slow rhythm. How could she be so close so quickly? Fine tremors rippled through her, making him groan and move faster. That was all it took to send her over the edge. An instant later he followed.

Even after he had gone soft, he stayed inside her. It took a little while for her breathing to slow to its normal pace. When it did, she whispered, “I’ve missed you.”

“I couldn’t tell.”

Grace giggled. “Are you still hungry?”

“No. But you should eat.” As he slipped out of her, she murmured a protest. Steffen got to his feet and fastened his pants. “I’ll call room service.”

“That’s all right. I brought a bottle of apple juice.”

“I want you to have something more substantial.” He picked up the phone.

“Hey! Don’t tell me what to do. I’m not one of your minions.”

“My minions?” Steffen raised an eyebrow.

Rolling onto her stomach, she propped her chin in her hands. “You know what I mean.”

“Let me try again. Will you please eat some real food?”

“That’s better.”

“Well?”

“Order me a slice of cheesecake, if they have it.” At his frown she said, “I had dinner a couple of hours ago. This is dessert.”

He gave in and dialed.

When she finished, Steffen set the plate outside their door and hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the knob. He turned to look her over. The vulnerability she had glimpsed earlier was gone now, replaced by a determination she did not understand.

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded.

A shiver went through her. She stood and started to obey, then stopped. “I think we covered this. Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Take off your clothes,” he repeated, stalking toward her.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll take them off for you.”

“In that case, I definitely don’t want to.”

She stood her ground as he stepped into her personal space. He laced his fingers through her hair and clenched them into a fist. Tipping her head, he lowered his so their faces nearly touched. Steffen stared into her eyes. With his other hand he found where the dress fastened behind her neck, and he worked it open so the halter came loose and fell to her waist. She wore no bra—you couldn’t in a halter dress—and her naked breasts distracted him. Steffen slid his palm over one. With the ball of his thumb he drew circles around her nipple until it stiffened.

Deep beneath the character of Grace, Angie stirred. The urge to surrender overwhelmed her. She hoped this was what he wanted in his fantasy woman, because she couldn’t help her reaction. Domination and submission had not been a part of the plan, so she couldn’t be certain what he expected. The best she could do was incorporate her own response into the role and see what happened. His mouth curved up at the corners the tiniest bit. Leaving her breast, he trailed his fingertips over her ribs and down her bare back until they found the zipper of her dress, and she heard it rasp open. The garment dropped to the floor.

His grip on her hair tightened and pulled her onto her toes. He brushed her lips with his. “I’m going to tell you what to do, and this time you’re going to do it.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Steffen rewarded her with a soft kiss. “Take off your underwear. Then undress me.”

It wasn’t easy to wriggle out of her panties in that position, but he didn’t let go, just drew back enough to stare into her eyes again. Once she had managed it, she felt her way to the bottom of his shirt. Grace pushed it up his chest. When she couldn’t go any farther, he released his hold on her and raised his arms over his head. She struggled to reach high enough to get the shirt off. The corners of his eyes creased until he finally took mercy and finished the job for her.

Instead of taking her by the hair again, he wrapped one hand around her throat, not squeezing or causing pain, just resting it there. She fumbled to open his pants, and when she did she couldn’t resist the urge to slide her hand inside. He was already growing hard.

“Did I say you could do that?” His tone sharpened.

Grace shook her head.

“Do what you were told.”

The pressure of his fingers around her neck increased, making her conscious of each breath she took. She hooked her thumbs into his waistband and tugged the pants down until she couldn’t reach any farther. His hand moved to the top of one shoulder. A nudge was all it took to communicate what he wanted, and she eased onto her knees, taking his pants to the floor.

As he stepped out of them, his erection grazed her cheek. She tilted her head to look all the way up into his face, silently asking permission. Steffen nodded. He brushed his fingers over her hair as she closed her eyes and took him into her mouth. A few seconds were all he allowed before drawing back. Grace made a frustrated sound.

“Get on the edge of the bed,” he ordered. “On your hands and knees, with your back to me.”

She obeyed.

Steffen moved in close, bent over her, and propped himself up with one arm. His palm settled between her shoulder blades, and he pressed down until she lowered herself onto her forearms and bent her head to the mattress. The angle tilted her ass higher. With the lightest of touches, he caressed its curves. Then he straightened and slid his fingers between her thighs. Grace clutched the bedding as he explored. He found the place that made her cry out and stroked it until he had her wet and desperate for more. Then he withdrew, not touching her at all.