Night's Honor (28 page)

Of course, she had already said it, but no matter how ridiculous it was, he had to demand it.

“Never,” she gasped.

I want you so much, you make me die a little,
he muttered. He ran his hands all over her, greedy to experience everything at once.

“What?” Her head twisted on the pillow, eyes bewildered and glazed. “I don't understand what you're saying.”

Dimly, he realized he had lapsed back into his native tongue, but he was so twisted up with the intensity of his need, he couldn't find his way back to speaking English again.

He gave up on the effort and praised the texture of her skin, the perfection of her lips, which grew swollen and moist from his kisses.

The taste of her skin, the softness of her breasts.

The beauty in her eyes. The strength in her spirit.

He slid down her body to lavish all of his attention on her breasts. Her nipples pebbled underneath his mouth as he suckled at her. He drew hard, raking his fingernails lightly along the length of her thigh, until she spread her legs wide and let him delve into her incredible, soft fluted flesh.

She was so wet, so wet.

She knotted her hands in his hair and pulled his head back up to hers. She said against his mouth, “I've really got to learn how to speak Spanish.”

When she grasped his cock, he shook all over. Obeying her silent urging, he fell back against the pillows and she came up to straddle him. He cupped her breasts again as she guided him between her legs, and she rubbed the tip of his erection back and forth on her, moistening the head.

Then she eased down, taking his stiff, hard length inside of her, and she felt so good, so tight, so absolutely, utterly perfect, he arched up to her, driving in as deeply as he could go.

She threw back her head, flexing her torso as she braced herself with both flattened hands on his chest. Her face was flushed, her eyes closed, as she lost herself in the moment.

That was what pulled him out of his own pleasure. He stared at her, transfixed by the sight of her. Her hair was tangled, and her skin showed rosy patches where his mouth had been.

He had marked her, him. She would never give anyone else blood, but him. She was lost in pleasure that he gave her.

Lightness filled the well in his soul. No one else might be able to hear his thoughts in that deep place, or know the balance of his decisions, but she joined him there. She did join him there, and he was not alone.

He spread his hands along the tops of her thighs, bracing her as she rode him, and he used his thumbs to stroke along the point of his entry into her flesh. When he reached her clitoris, her expression twisted with the most delicious agony. She ground down hard on him and sobbed for breath.

Watching her climax filled him with the deepest kind of pleasure. He whispered to her, small, gentle things, and when a tear slid down her cheek, he stroked it away.

When she finished, she looked down at him with such clear intent.

Then she bent forward and bit his lip, and he went crazy. Growling, he snatched her tight against him, one arm around her waist, the other gripping the back of her head, and he pistoned up into her tight, tight passage.

Truly, he couldn't stand it—the pressure was driving him insane. He gasped in her ear, “You are so fucking mine.”

She lifted her head, with a look of surprise. “You said that in English.”

He paused, just for a moment, and surfaced somewhat from the passionate haze. “Well,” he said, even as he still moved inside her, “you really needed to know that.”

Her face lit with such beautiful luminosity. “I love you.”

Now, that was a gift he hadn't seen coming. He pumped once, twice, three more times, and gave everything he had into her. It rode him hard, that climax, and he shuddered with the force of it.

Stroking his face, she rocked with him gently, until it had passed.

Me encantas
, he whispered, kissing her temple.
Te amo, querida. Te amo.

Sprawling across him, she laid her head on his shoulder with a sigh so deep, it shook down her entire length. He laced his fingers with hers, buried his face in her tangled hair and drifted into peaceful silence.

He could tell when she fell asleep. She did so suddenly, her body going completely lax. He could not quite join her. Once they stopped making love and the pleasure eased away, the dull, lingering ache from the poison kept him from truly resting.

He didn't mind. He was too grateful to be alive, embodied and so intimately connected with her. Instead of trying to fight it, he surrendered to the experience, drifting with the ache, and relishing every moment of being with her.

They had survived. He would take her home. They would build something together. He didn't know what. He didn't really care. It would be some kind of definition that worked.

He would take her to his bed. They could sit on the veranda and listen to the wind play in the redwood forest.

And they would waltz. Yes, somehow they would waltz. Maybe she would like to join him sometimes in his study.

He remembered the book he had been reading when she had first come into his study, that old friend of his, Rene Descartes,
Meditations on First Philosophy
.

In his
Meditations
, Descartes had written one of the most famous tenets of modern Western philosophy.

Cogito ergo sum.

I think, therefore I am.

He had admired Descartes for many years, but while he stroked his fingers through Tess's hair, patiently smoothing out every tangle, Xavier felt those words take an inevitable, gigantic shift into something profoundly different.

I love, he thought. Therefore I truly live.

Then he let it all go, gently, and was finally able to drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.

TWENTY

T
ess slept for over thirty hours. When she woke up, she felt incredible. All of the myriad aches and pains she had accumulated over the last several weeks had vanished completely. She felt healthy, strong, fit and energetic.

Wow.

She rolled over to find Xavier sprawled on his stomach, fast asleep. Somehow he managed to take up most of the bed, while she had moved over to the edge of the mattress.

The discovery made her smile. She studied him with a drowsy kind of glee—it was the first time she had ever had the opportunity to watch him sleep.

His hair tumbled about his head and shoulders, the dark, glossy length shadowing his sleeping face. He had the gift that nature gave some men, ridiculously lush, long eyelashes that brushed his skin. His graceful, lean form disguised how defined his musculature was. Now she saw him nude, she could tell how much work had gone into the strength in his back and shoulders. He had flung one arm along the bed, as if he reached out to her.

From the terrifying monster she had first seen on the mezzanine level at the Vampyre's Ball, he had grown truly beautiful to her. She could no longer connect to the person she had been then, and she didn't want to.

She was tempted to take his hand but refrained. While she wanted to touch him, she didn't want to disturb him. Instead, she slipped out of bed and went exploring in his walk-in closet. When she discovered a terry-cloth robe she quite liked, she slipped it on and went in search of food.

She found the kitchen by trial and error, and there she discovered Raoul sitting at a large, country-style table with several strangers. Outside two large windows, late afternoon sunlight shone on a well-tended, colorful garden.

Overcome with self-consciousness, she started to back away from the doorway, but it was too late. They had seen her.

Chairs scraped across the floor as they all shot to their feet. Raoul was the quickest. He strode over to her, grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug. Remarkably moved by the gesture and somewhat uncomfortable, she patted his back awkwardly.

He pulled back, his face tense. “How is he?”

“He's wonderful,” she said.

When she heard herself, she turned scarlet, but nobody gave her a chance to dwell on it for long. They were much too relieved, and they laughed, all these strangers who cared about her Xavier so much, so she relaxed and let Raoul pull her to the table, where she sat.

Eduardo, the cook, piled a huge plate of delicious seafood crepes in front of her. She met all eight of Xavier's attendants who lived in San Francisco—Foster, Xavier's secretary, Russell, the estate manager, Sergio, Jaime, Sidney, Ciaran and Mika.

“I'm not going to remember whose name goes with which face,” she said around a mouthful of creamy lobster. “Sorry.”

“That's okay, nobody expects you to,” Raoul said. “There's plenty of time for you to get to know everybody.”

He shooed everybody else out, and they went reluctantly, although Eduardo tried to insist he needed to stay in the kitchen to serve her more food. When they were gone, the tension between Tess's shoulders eased somewhat.

“Better?” Raoul asked.

She gave him a grateful smile. “Yeah.”

He settled back in his chair. While she thought he might pelt her with questions, he didn't. Instead, he watched her polish off the huge plate of food in silence.

Today, although he still didn't look anywhere near seventy, he showed more of his age than usual. The way the lighting touched him showed the faint lines on his face and how the short hair at his temples was almost white.

Gradually the quiet in the kitchen sank in, and she sighed. When she pushed her plate away, he nodded to it. “Would you like more?”

“No, thanks, I'm stuffed.” She pulled her cup of coffee toward her and cradled it between her hands, savoring the warmth.

“I brought you a couple changes of clothes,” he told her.

“Thanks,” she said again. She searched his face. “Are . . . we okay?”

“Do you mean you and me?” he asked.

She nodded.

He gave her a smile that deepened the lines at the corners of his face. “We're far better than okay. I'm really proud of you, Tess. You stepped up so much more than I thought you might. Thank you for caring about him, and for saving his life.”

So, okay. That happened.

She finally got Raoul's approval when she wasn't looking.

She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face, but it twisted and turned insouciant. “Well, I didn't do it for you,” she said.

His smile turned into a grin. “But I'm grateful, all the same.”

She nodded and examined the contents of her coffee cup. “I sort of fell in love with him. I don't want to talk about it.”

He burst out laughing. “I promise, it's okay.”

“We're going to work out a definition of it, together.” She looked at him sidelong and clocked the expression on his face. “Yeah, I don't know what that means, either.”

He cocked his head. “I thought you said you didn't want to talk about it.”

Her shoulders crept up toward her ears. “I'm just saying. We agreed I'm coming back to the estate, and I'm going to continue lessons with you. That's all I know.”

“You made the blood offering, didn't you?”

The memory of Xavier biting her while they tangled in bed seared her mind, and she angled her face away quickly to hide how her cheeks darkened. She nodded.

He laughed again, quietly. “Good for you. And I can't wait to see how you move on the training floor now. You'll be so much faster. I'm going to teach you good things.”

“I'm looking forward to it.” She glanced back at him and grinned. “Now I might get a real chance at beating you someday.”

“Not for a long time,” he said gently. “But you're very welcome to keep trying.”

She sobered. “Is there any news about . . . well, anything?”

He sat forward and propped his elbows on the table, sobering as well. “Julian has gone after Justine, and Evenfall is on lockdown. Nobody goes in, nobody comes out. The demesne is under martial law, which essentially means none of the heads of Vampyre houses can travel farther than ten miles from their homes on pain of death. That applies to Justine too.”

She felt her eyes widen. “How long will martial law be in effect?”

“Not long—at most a week or two.” He looked grim. “Since there was an attack on one of Julian's progeny, who is also a senior member of the Nightkind government, right now, Julian can justify martial law, but it can't last. The elder Vampyres will comply, but only up to a point. Right now we have a criminal on the loose, but if Julian doesn't find Justine soon and if the elder Vampyres revolt, there'll be civil war.”

Xavier's voice came from the doorway. “Let's not get ahead of ourselves.”

Both Raoul and Tess turned and rose to their feet. Xavier had dressed in the most casual outfit she'd ever seen him wear, jeans and a soft gray, cotton shirt, and he had brushed and tied his hair back.

She held back as Raoul stepped forward to hug Xavier fiercely. After returning the hug, Xavier stepped toward Tess to give her a kiss. She saw with concern that he moved stiffly, without his usual grace, but his mouth on hers was firm and warm.

As he pulled back, he paused to look deep into her eyes, his expression warm and intimate. Gazing back, she saw the full knowledge of what they had done together, and an internal glow lit her from within.

He turned to Raoul. “Close up the town house until further notice. It's just a precaution, but I would feel better doing it, at least until things blow over. Everyone based here can either take a month's vacation, as long as they go out of state, or they can come back to the estate with us. Now that the five recruits are gone, we've got more space available.” He didn't mention Marc, and neither did Raoul or Tess. “We can use the bedrooms in the main house, and of course, the guesthouse. There's also Tess's bedroom in the attendants' house.” He looked at Tess. “You'll stay with me.”

Maybe she should have bristled at being told what to do, but she was too happy to see him on his feet and being decisive, and besides, he was telling her to do what she wanted to do anyway, so she kept her mouth shut and simply nodded.

“It might get a little cozy.” Raoul gave a very Gallic-looking shrug and winked at Tess. “But nobody will mind. After all, we're family.”

Family.

The word kept her warm, as she gathered up the bag Raoul had packed for her and went to shower and dress. To a person, all the attendants based in San Francisco chose to come back to the estate, and for several hours there was a flurry of activity as people packed and closed up the property. As a final touch, all the metal shutters were extended, so that the house was locked tight as a drum.

Tess pitched in and helped wherever she could. She got to see glimpses of the town house as she did so, and it was just as gracious and beautiful as the estate. Aside from the basement level, which held Xavier's master suite and another capacious wine cellar, the house was really a mansion that was three stories tall.

Everyone was welcoming and friendly, but it was still a lot to take in, and she couldn't help but think of how overwhelming it had been when she'd first started work at the casino.

This was so much better. This was worlds better. She would get used to it, and get to know everyone in time.

Xavier disappeared into an office, and he didn't emerge until night had fallen, and everyone had jammed their things into a cavalcade of four SUVs.

When he reappeared, he was still moving stiffly, but he seemed so much better than he had been previously. As Tess stood still and gazed at him, she was overcome with a ferocious feeling that shook through her entire body.

“Is everything all right?” He raised an eyebrow in mild inquiry.

She couldn't say what she was feeling out loud. Telepathically, she said,
I understand you might need more blood than I can give you, but let's get one thing straight
.
You are never going to bite a young, attractive woman, ever again.

His expression lit with utter joy.

And perhaps with a bit of laughter, but mostly, she chose to focus on the joy.

I promise you, querida
,
he murmured in a low, dark voice that was better than all the chocolate in the world, and all the brandy too.
Never again.

When she let out a pent-up breath, he drew her into his arms, and as he hugged her, he rocked her ever so slightly. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Eduardo and Foster grinning at each other, but she ignored them easily enough by closing her eyes and tucking her face into Xavier's neck.

It was probably wrong to be so happy when so much of the demesne was in upheaval, but what was a girl to do. She couldn't deny any of her feelings. They were too new, too surprising and wonderful.

Too necessary.

They left as a group, and the journey to the estate was uneventful. Tess and Xavier rode with Raoul, who drove. On the way, Raoul asked, “Is there any further news?”

“No, nothing of substance. Diego received a five hundred thousand dollar deposit the day after Melisande and Justine spent the night at the estate. Forensic accountants traced the money back to an offshore bank account.”

Raoul swore under his breath, and Tess knew how he felt. While they already knew Diego had been bribed, it was chilling to discover exactly the amount that had turned him.

“No word from Julian?” Tess asked.

Xavier rubbed his face. “Nothing. He'll be in touch when he can. There's nothing else for us to do but sit tight and wait.”

They fell silent during the last of the trip. As they pulled onto the final stretch of road that followed the coast, along the edge of the forest, the scene was filled with an unearthly kind of beauty. Moonlight illuminated the entire night sky, and the dark, sparkling ocean stretched to infinity.