Stealing Magic (Vampire Primes) (6 page)

“You will forget.”

* * *

“What hit me?”

“Don’t move.”

“I don’t want to move. What hit—? Who? Where?” Darkness. He’d fallen into a trap of fiery darkness. He remembered.

Hands helped him to sit up. He hadn’t known he was lying down. He opened his eyes.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Four. You are Grace. I am Julien.” His gaze focused on the lovely face leaning close to his. “How did you know I am a vampire?”

Grace leaned back. She looked across the folly. “She’s sleeping. I put her on the bench. She’ll be all right, won’t she?”

The vampire hunter had been well trained in mental shielding, and attack. She’d used her mind as her last weapon. It had been a near thing for him to keep his natural savagery in check. A battle should be fought to the death, but he’d managed to pull back. Just.

“When she wakes she will leave here. She won’t remember us.”

Grace gave a relieved sigh. “Will you be all right, Julien?”

“Eventually.” Every spot where the silver and hawthorn wood touched still hurt. His head ached. No, ache was far too mild a word.

She held his hands. “Let me help you up.”

His fingers tightened around Grace’s wrists. “How did you know I’m a vampire?”

Her skin heated and she wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I—” Grace cleared her throat. “I saw you bite Lady Emmaline last night.”

“That is no true clue. You might have thought I had odd proclivities.”

“What’s an odd proclivity, my lord?”

“You would rather believe in vampires than in perversion?”

She looked at the unconscious woman. “Let us continue this somewhere else. How did I guess your nature? I’ve never seen you in sunlight, and you are a far stronger psychic than any mortal could be,” she added when he didn’t release her. “And you were hunted by a psychic with special weapons. How could you not be a vampire?” she demanded.

He accepted her explanations. “Yet you don’t fear me.”

Grace shook her head. “Of course I fear you. Only a fool wouldn’t fear the ultimate predator. But I like you more than I fear you, so could we go now?”

Julien let her go. “Are you that anxious to get to your ironing?”

“No. I’m anxious to make love with you tonight. To manage this I need to get you back to your room, get you cleaned up, and make sure you are feeling well enough to satisfy my insatiable desires.”

“Insatiable? Large words for a simple housemaid. Your education—”

Grace put fingers over his lips. “The only part of my education you need worry about, my lord, comes later tonight.”

“Well, then….” Julien held his hands out for her to help him up. “I suppose we had better get going.”

* * *

Grace took her eye away from the peep hole and whispered, “Do you think he’s ever going to go away?” Beyond the secret door, Mr. Beverly paced back and forth on the rug in front of the fireplace.

Julien leaned his weight against her, his arm around her shoulders. Her arm was wrapped tightly around his waist. It had been a slow journey from the folly to the manor house, and they’d decided to take the back stairs and secret passage to Julien’s room. It was better not to be seen, for the sight of an injured guest would cause an unwanted stir. All had gone well until they reached the entrance to Julien’s room. The valet was there, and he looked very worried.

“You could walk in and tell him to leave,” she whispered.

Julien leaned very close and whispered in her ear, “Technically, he is my superior. He’ll want to know what happened.”

She’d forgotten about their being spies looking for a traitor. “He’ll probably want you to go to the ball when you need to rest.”

“It is not my resting you’re thinking about. Thinking….”

Julien looked back through the spy hole. Then he rested his forehead against the door and closed his eyes. He kept his arm around her. After a few seconds she was supporting his whole weight. He began to sweat, and shake. When he lifted his head again, though, he was smiling.

“Mr. Beverly will be joining the staff belowstairs any moment now. He thinks it a good idea to question them about guests’ behavior.”

“Diversion or not, that is a good idea, Julien,” Grace said.

He gave a tired nod. A quick look through the peephole, then he opened the door for them. Grace helped him limp in and settle on the bed. He gave a huge sigh, which ended in a groan.

“I am not used to pain,” he said. “It is such a—mortal feeling.”

“Typical male,” she said. “Mortal or not, men whine about the least little ache.”

“You sound just like one of our females.” He adopted a high-pitched feminine voice. “If you Primes had to give birth you’d know what pain truly is.”

Grace’s hand automatically covered her abdomen as her heart lurched in anguish and hope. Hope for having a child, anguish for using Julien. She turned her back on him as she fought off tears. He would never know their child. She reminded herself that she’d been told vampire Primes left the raising of offspring to their females, so even if he knew it wouldn’t matter to him.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked. “Of course. I’m sorry I forgot that mortals don’t discuss such a delicate and distasteful subject as childbirth. Even that word probably embarrasses you.”

She blinked a few times and made herself smile as she turned back to him. “Actually, my granny explained the facts of life to me in some detail. Although it is not the sort of thing one discusses with a male, now is it? Hush now,” she commanded. “Settle back on those pillows and let me have a look at your wounds. Unbutton your shirt while you’re waiting.” She knew she sounded brisk and efficient, but, then, she had more training as a healer than she did as a seductress.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She went to a side table where a pitcher and water bowl stood. Washcloths, towels, and soap were arranged on shelves below. When she returned to the bedside, she was surprised to discover that Julien had not only unbuttoned his shirt, but had stripped himself naked in the few seconds it had taken her to gather what she needed.

“Oh, my!”

He grabbed the bowl as it dropped from her grasp, placing it on the bedside table. Not a bit of water was spilled. Vampires could certainly move fast.

“You seem to be feeling better,” she said, not looking at him as she spoke.

Julien groaned as he lay back on the pile of pillows. “Showing off,” he said. “Shouldn’t have done that.”

“Stay still,” she said. She looked down, and made her assessment a clinical one. He had a round bruise from the head of the silver cane on one narrow hip, a cut along his right ribcage. The remains of a cut, she decided. There was a streak of dried blood on his pale skin, but the cut seemed to have already healed. She glanced at the cut on his face and saw it was also mending.

“It was the blows to my head and back that did the most damage,” he said. “And all the psychic energy I’ve had to use when I likely had a concussion. Silver does more damage than steel to folk like me. Oh, poor, pitiful me,” he added, and they both laughed.

She dipped a cloth in soapy water and began to wash off the blood. By the time she was finished her would-be lover was fast asleep.

Grace smiled tenderly as she stepped back to look at him. He was as pale as a marble statue, and as perfectly proportioned as any Greek masterpiece. The black hair on his chest and below accentuated his masculine perfection. She was tempted, very tempted to touch and stroke every inch of him, especially his phallus. She wanted to know what it would be like hard and erect.

She would just have to wait to find out. In the meantime, Grace took off her layers of clothes and climbed into bed beside Julien, as naked as he was.

Chapter Nine

Hot. Sweet. Fiery. All at once. Delicious dream spinning her slowly up and up and—

“Tickles!”

Grace tried to curl into a ball, and woke up to the realization that there were fingers brushing across her abdomen. Not only did it tickle, it sent a wave of warmth deep inside her.

She rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. And there was Julien, looking down at her, a teasing smile on his lips, his eyes showing both amusement and desire.

“I am sorry,” he told her. “No gentleman, Prime or mortal, should ignore the safety of a brave young woman.”

“What?”

He kissed her bare shoulder. “There is a bruise there. I shall kiss it and make it better.” Another kiss.

Grace arched with pleasure. “Do that again.”

He kissed the base of her throat, then a spot above her left breast. “I need to make sure you are not hurt. I shall examine every inch of your body. It is my duty.”

Grace stretched out with her arms over head. “Examine away. I would never stop a gentleman from doing his duty.”

Julien took his time. His fingers and lips moved over her with gentleness that left fire all over her skin and need deep in her belly. Grace moaned, her fists curling tightly on the pillows. His lips touched her hard nipple. He suckled it, then drew it into her mouth.

“I—I don’ t think there are any—bruises there, my lo—oh my!”

I can certainly arrange that,
his amused voice spoke in her mind.

A fang penetrated the soft, sensitive skin of her breast. Pleasure blazed through all her senses as he tasted her blood.

He lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. “You are sweet as honey, sharp as iron. Delicious. I could taste you all night.”

Being tasted all night would be heaven. “Lovely. But could you make love to me, too?” she asked. “I’ve waited for you—a man like you—all my life.”

“Such a young and innocent life.”

“I think it is past time to forego the innocent part, Julien.” She ran her fingers through soft strands of his hair. “Black as night.”

She pulled his head closer, pressed her lips against his, teased them open. Their tongues met, explored and teased. She ran her tongue over his fangs, quite deliberate this time. A tiny bit of pain brought a cascade of pleasure.

He took his mouth from hers to return to suckling her breasts.

She ran her hands down his back, exploring his lean-muscled body. She had thought of him looking like a perfect marble statue but his skin was warm and his muscles supple. His weight and masculine scent drove Grace to want even more of him. She wanted him—his flesh, his taste, his aroma, his heat.

He groaned as she caressed him. It pleased her to please him.

He certainly knew how to please her. His mouth and busy fingers moved from her breasts and further down her body.

“You’re touching places I didn’t know I had,” she murmured.

He chuckled. The rush of his breath tickled her belly button and made her quiver.

Julien came up to his knees. “Let me look at you, my love.” His gaze ate her up. It was as tactile as any touch.

“Your hair is as beautiful unbound as I knew it would be. Your blood races warm and rich beneath your pink skin. You are what sunshine looks like,” he told her. “But not so dangerous.”

“Watch out,” she warned. “Perhaps I am hotter to the touch than you think.” She ran her hands over her breasts and stomach and his gaze followed where her hands led. “Or at least I think you make me so, Julien.”

He drew her up to kneel before him. “We have just begun, copper girl.”

She put her hands on his shoulders. She pressed herself to him, breasts to chest. His erect phallus pressed against her belly. “I could do this forever, but I must return to my duties at some point, and you to yours.” Her voice shook with the desire building within her.

“We have our whole lives.”

His words sent fierce feelings through her Grace knew were more than lust. So much more than lust. A part of her soul howled in pain at the knowledge it was more than lust.

“We have right now,” she said. She kissed him, gently, drinking in his taste. “Right now is all anyone ever has.”

“Practical and beautiful. You enchant me.”

“No I don’t! I—”

“Silly witch. That’s not what I meant.”

“Make love to me!” Desperation blended with need. And there was fear. “Right now, Julien.” She touched a finger tentatively to the tip of his penis. There was moisture there, and a faint pulsing. “I’m burning alive, Julien.”

“And you are frightened.”

“Fear passes.” She slid her hand down the whole length of him, then back to the top. “This is how men and women—even vampires and witches—are meant to come together. We all must start sometime.” Julien’s eyes were closed. She wasn’t even sure he heard her as she slowly drew her hand up and down his penis.

After a while his hand closed over hers. “Not so quickly, my love.”

“This doesn’t seem quick to me.”

“Trust that I have more experience in these matters. You are driving me very close to the edge.”

She was suddenly lying on her back, with Julien on top of her. A deep, fiery glow filled his eyes. His desire and hunger washed over her mind.

She should have been frightened, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips.

He rested his forehead against hers for a moment. His breath came fast and hard, his body strained with need.
I have no experience with mortal virgins. Forgive me if I—

It’s supposed to hurt the first time,
her thought overlaid his. “I’m not afraid of a little pain when I know it will only become better and better.”
Besides, my insides ache with need already.

Julien laughed, softly kissed her. His fangs brushed her lower lip, but he did not break the skin.

“Thank you,” she whispered. His bite would send her into ecstasy. That was not what she wanted at this moment in her life. It was important to be completely aware of this initiation.

He poised himself over her. Then he was inside her, filling her, hard, made of heat. She surrounded him, soft and yielding. Every sensation in her body and soul focused on this spot. The feeling was so surprising her hips jerked upward.

Julien’s phallus drove all the way inside her. She shouted.

“I’m sorry!”

“Do that—more!” Instinct drove her to want so much more.