Until the Sun Falls from the Sky (44 page)

Lucien appeared. He closed the door and walked slowly to me.

“Hey,” I said hesitantly, testing his mood. My voice was rough as sandpaper.

This was a good move on my part. His expression had been thoughtful as if trying to decide which irritating, dominating vampire punishment to mete out. Upon hearing my voice, his eyes flashed then gentled as did his face.

He threw back the covers and got in bed with me even though he was fully-clothed, wearing jeans and a tight-fitting black t-shirt.

He pulled me in his arms.

“When did you know I was awake?” I rasped.

“The minute you woke,” he informed the top of my head scarily. “Now, stop speaking.”

“I’m fine,” I argued even though I didn’t sound fine, I really was. I didn’t feel any different than normal except my throat was kind of sore.

“I’m not arguing about this.”

“But –”

Quiet, Leah.
He mind-controlled me.

Big, bad, vampire
jerk!

I hate it when you do that,
I snapped.

Why would you use your voice when we can converse perfectly well like this?

He had a point. Still, for good measure, I pouted. Seeing as my face was in his neck and he couldn’t see me pouting, this was a moot pout but at least it made me feel better.

Talk to me about last night,
he ordered.

What do you want to know?
I asked.

Everything,
he answered.

I sighed then gave in. No sense fighting it, he was even more stubborn than me.

I had the dream again,
I told him and stopped sharing.

When I said no more, he prompted,
I guessed that.

I kept going,
I don’t know what happened. I still don’t remember what I dream but it’s like the dream kept going even after I woke up.

How?

I shook my head but answered,
It felt, I know this is going to sound totally unhinged, but it felt like I was being hanged.

His body went completely taut. I’d felt this before, of course, many times but there was something different about this time. Very different and very wrong.

Lucien?

Tell me more,
he commanded, even his voice in my head sounded tight.

This alarmed me so I continued,
I could feel Stephanie, sense the real world around me. I even heard the phone ring when you called. But I was still in the dream and it was more powerful. It felt like the floor went out from under me and the noose was strangling me.

Did you see anything?

Like what?

Like me.

This time, my body grew tight.

I know you’re dreaming of me, Leah.
Now his voice was soft and coaxing.

I don’t know that.

You are, sweetheart.

What do you hear me say?

Let’s focus on you.

I’d rather focus on what you hear.

Later.

Now.

His arms grew tight and the breath went out of me.

“Do you see me in your dream? Did you see me last night?” he demanded to know.

I shook my head.

“Did you feel heat?”

That confused me.

Heat?
I asked.

“Like a fire.”

My head jerked back and I looked up at him with wide eyes.

Yes,
I breathed.

I watched as his eyes closed slowly and his jaw got tight, not like he was angry, like he was in pain.

I felt his pain. It hurt.

His look was also familiar. I didn’t know why but it was very familiar like I’d seen it before and it scared me.

Lucien!
I cried.

His eyes opened.

What?
I asked.

His hand at the back of my head tucked my face in his throat again as he answered, “Nothing, sweetling.”

That wasn’t nothing!

“Just relax,” he ordered.

Yeah, right,
you
relax. I’m freaking out!

“Everything will be fine.”

Sure. Everything will be fine. You’re a vampire renegade, breaking laws and getting carted in to talk to The Council in the middle of the night. Your estranged mate wants me dead. Creepy Marcello-with-a-death-wish nearly touches me and you morph into Super Lucien, the Mighty Concubine Protector. And even my dreams want me dead! Yep, all’s normal! Nothing to worry about here!

After my mental tirade delivered directly to his brain which was totally bizarre
in
itself
, the most bizarre of all was that I was communicating with him like this and it didn’t feel bizarre in the slightest, I felt his body shaking.

He was laughing.

It started silently then it became chuckles. He pulled me up, lifted his head and buried his face in my neck.

This isn’t fucking funny,
I declared, and it sure as hell wasn’t.

He kept laughing.

What happened last night?
I demanded to know.

“I’ll tell you later.” His voice was still filled with mirth as he spoke against my neck.

Now.

“Later,” he murmured.

Now, Lucien!
I insisted.
You can’t just leave me after that drama, all worried about you and then not…

I stopped nagging his brain and went still.

I did this for two reasons. One, because he went still too. Completely. Nearly as solid as when we were talking about my dream. Two, because one part of my idiot brain caught up with what the other, more idiot part of my idiot brain was actually saying.

His head came up. I twisted my neck to look up at him and wished my possible vampire abilities extended to turning back time so I could take back words.

“You were worried about me?” he asked.

I tried to cover.
Well, you know, anyone would get worried when someone was carted off in the middle of the night.

“They wouldn’t be worried if they hated the person who was being carted off,” he pointed out logically but his voice was pure velvet and it seemed to glide across every inch of my skin.

Why oh why was I such a freaking loser!

Don’t read anything into that, Lucien,
I warned.

He grinned and it was his arrogant grin. “Hard not to, pet.”

Well, try,
I pushed.

His face got closer and his voice was still velvet. “I rather like what I’m reading.”

May I remind you that you spanked me last night. Spanked me!
I snapped.

“Oh, I remember.” Still velvet, still gliding across my skin, now I was getting goose bumps. Then his eyelids slowly lowered to half-mast and he muttered, “I’m thinking I should have done that at your initial bloodletting. Saved time.”

My body went tight then it jerked against his hold. I knew this would have no effect but I felt better doing it.

It was high time to change the subject.

I need food,
I declared.

“Me too,” he whispered.

Damn it all to hell, that got a response. I felt my nipples get hard and I went instantly wet.

He knew it. I knew he knew it because I saw the flash of a satisfied, smug smile before his face disappeared in my neck. His lips traveled down my chest and, with one arm locked around my waist, the other hand came up to my camisole and tugged it down sharply to expose one of my breasts.

I gasped.

Then I felt his tongue at the side of my breast, fire shot between my legs and I squirmed.

Let me speak,
I whispered and the instant I did, his mind released mine and I felt the blood flow. “Oh my God,” I breathed.

Powerless to stop them, my hands went to his head, fisting in his hair, holding him to me as the sweet, familiar thrill from his feeding shot through me.

His hand came up, fingers wrapping around my wrist, he pulled it away and down. Taking my hand in his own, he guided it into my pajamas, my undies, straight to the heat of me. His fingers manipulating mine against my most sensitive part, he coaxed a deeper response. I took over and his hand moved, a finger sliding in me then two then he stroked, the rhythm sure and strong, practiced and powerful, building in intensity and quickness.

With the feeding, my own fingers and his thrusts, it took only moments for me to come.

“Lucien,” I whispered in my raspy voice and when I did, my fisted hand in his hair tightened at the same time holding him to me.

It was consuming. It was beautiful. I hadn’t had that in three weeks either. It nourished me too.

He imprisoned my hand cupped under his between my legs, lashed the wound at my breast with his tongue, pulled up and rolled into me.

With his weight pressed against my side, his face in my hair, he spoke.

“You’ve broken,” he declared, victory warm in his tone.

I suspected he wasn’t wrong.

I didn’t tell him that.

“Now, you’re mine,” he went on, the warmth of victory turning heated, brutal, savage and fierce.

I suspected he wasn’t wrong about that either.

Boy, was I
so
fucked.

His head came up, his hand pulling mine from between my legs, it lifted it, curling my arm around his waist. He tugged my camisole back over my breast, rolled deeper into me so he was almost on top of me and then he rested his hand against my neck, thumb stroking, head up, eyes locked to mine.

“Tonight, we join,” he decreed, his voice still fierce as were his eyes.

I felt something unsettling.

His eyes were blazing, the triumph blatant, searing into me, so hot, so fierce, I felt branded.

But it wasn’t the first time I felt that. I’d felt it before. Even though I knew I hadn’t. Just like earlier, when he’d closed his eyes in pain.

“Leah? Did you hear me?”

My mind was elsewhere but I still answered, “I heard you.”

“Leah,” he called, I shook off my troubling thoughts and focused on him.

“What we’ll have will be beautiful,” he told me, voice back to velvet.

I suspected he wasn’t wrong about that either.

The problem with that was, even though it would undoubtedly be beautiful, whatever it was, it would be temporary.

Tarnished beauty. Could I live with that?

“Sweetling,” velvet still but there was an odd throb to it like an ache, “whatever that is working in the backs of your eyes, let it go. You give this to me; I’ll take care of it.” His voice dipped lower before he finished, “That’s a vow.”

Of course, seeing as I was expelled from Vampire Studies, I had no idea how binding a vampire’s vow was. I had no idea they’d kill to protect it and die before they’d break it. I had no idea they’d quest to the ends of the earth for centuries to fulfill it or that they’d endure torture to keep it safe.

So, even though I believed that
he
believed he wasn’t feeding me a line, I knew different.

Still, with that thing in me broken, unable to keep him out any longer, I had no choice.

So I looked him in the eyes and whispered, “Okay.”

My submission was immediately rewarded.

He pulled me tight into his arms and gave me one of his demanding, bruising, possessive, branding and undeniably savage kisses that left me breathless.

Then he carried me all the way to the kitchen, deposited me on a stool, ordered a concerned, fawning Edwina and an equally concerned but not fawning Stephanie and Cosmo out of the kitchen and he made breakfast.

Amongst many other things, that morning I found out Lucien could cook.

The Aunties

I lay curled in the big beanbag in the comfy, seating area off the kitchen while Edwina made dinner and Avery sat on the couch, chatting to her.

Avery was who I guessed was my protector for the evening.

Even though it was Sunday and Edwina was supposed to be off, she didn’t leave.

And even though it was Sunday and ever since our first Sunday together Lucien had made a habit of being with me in some way all day (even these last three weeks when he’d not been pushy, domineering, Lucien), Lucien
did
leave. He took off with Cosmo after breakfast, and another demanding, bruising, possessive, branding and undeniably savage kiss, right in front of
everyone,
going to places unknown and unshared with, oh, say,
me
.