Fury's Kiss (68 page)

“Dory,
please
.”

Or maybe not. I paused to look up at him. “Give me one good reason why not.”

“Any moment, you are going to remember. And once I begin to pleasure you, I do not intend to be interrupted.”

I frowned, and sat back. “Remember what?”

And then it hit me.

“That,” he said sardonically, as I stared down at him.

For a long moment, I didn’t say anything. And then I tried hopping up, intending to make for the door because I’d really lost it this time, and I didn’t need to be around people when—

Louis-Cesare tackled me.

My back hit mattress, and my front hit vampire, or I
guess he hit me, because he landed on top. “You’re not crazy,” he told me, as I fought, and kicked and bit—

And ended up immobilized with my arms over my head and hot, satiny muscles sliding along—

Okay, that was unfair.

“Not crazy, huh?” I demanded, as he deliberately slowed down. And started kissing my neck.

“Mmm.”

“Then why do I think I just got appointed
senator
?”

“Possibly because you did.”

“Now you’re just as crazy as I am,” I told him, as those lips slid lower.

“No. I am sure of it. I am on the Senate, too. They require that we know these things.”

“And I require that you stop being an ass! What the
hell
?”

He looked up from licking his way around a nipple. “Do you see why I did not wish to start this?”

“Just tell me.”

He rested his chin on my sternum and smiled slightly. “It is true. Extraordinary, I grant you, but then, these are extraordinary times. And the consul was not pleased at the reaction of most of the masters who had come to vie for the open Senate positions. This is a wartime Senate; it needs warriors. Yet, when it came down to it, it was as she said. Few were willing to put their lives on the line without certainty of reward.”

“Yes, but…I’m
dhampir
. I’m not even a person in vampire law!” Why was I the only one who seemed to get this?

“You are not. But your father was able to successfully argue that Dorina is. And since you are inseparable…”

“Dorina.” I stopped, and felt my skin go cold. “That’s it, isn’t it? They want her and her mental abilities.”

He nodded. “They are rare and, based on Lawrence’s fate, it would appear that you have inherited much of your father’s skill.”

“Then…are they going to try to bring her out?” I gripped his arms. “Are they going to try to—”

“Dory.” He gripped me back. “You
are
Dorina. And
she is you. You may feel separate at the moment, because you have been cut off for so long from the other side of yourself. But you are one person.”

“But Mircea said—”

“He made the argument he did because it was the only one most vampires might accept. Our kind are notoriously xenophobic; they needed to see you as one of them.”

Yeah, like that was likely.

“And because the consul told him to.”

“What?” Now I was really lost.

His mouth screwed up in a scowl, but I didn’t think it was for me. “You were right—your abilities are rare, and highly prized. The consul wanted them on her side, before you were snapped up by a rival. She also wanted your connections to the Blarestri, whom it appears we now need badly. And she wanted a Senate firmly under her control, something much less certain with some of the other leading candidates.”

“But…a
Senate
seat…” It was not just crazy. It was completely impossible.

“If it makes you feel any better, it is for the duration of the war only. As is mine. Then my century-long ban will go back into effect, and you…Well, you may do as you like. Of course, you can do that now, if you insist. I cannot recall anyone turning down a Senate seat, but it should technically be possible.…”

I lay there, no longer fighting, since my head was spinning too much. And because I wasn’t going to win anyway. And because I kind of liked the feeling of sensual captivity, at least by this particular jailer.

Soft hair and warm lips trailed downward, and I stared up, at a fat cherub on the frieze around the ceiling who was smirking at me. He knew I didn’t belong here. Knew it couldn’t last.

But I wanted it to. I curled my fingers in Louis-Cesare’s hair, clenching them unconsciously, because I didn’t want to let go.
And maybe you don’t have to
, some insidious voice insisted. If you are on the Senate—crazy, stupid,
absurd
—you would be equals. And no one told
senators
no
and
can’t
and
shouldn’t
except the consul. And does she really care who her people are sleeping with…?

I could have him
, I thought, and it seemed more unreal than anything else that had happened lately. I could have him—

Yeah, for how long?
another, slightly saner voice asked. Remember
Christine
. Remember how he really thinks of you. As some kind of replacement for her, as someone he can save—

“Is that what you think?” I looked down to see Louis-Cesare resting between my thighs, but with a massive scowl on his face. “Is it?”

“How did you—?” I asked, confused.

“You’re projecting,” he said angrily. “Mircea said it is a result of having half your mind flooded with this new power all at once. Or new to it—” He shoved the explanation away. “It will come under your control in time.”

“Good to know.” Or I could foresee a lot of trouble ahead.

Like right now, for instance.

“Did you mean that?” he demanded again.

“I—it’s what I heard—”

“From whom?”

“I don’t—”

“Verrell,”
he hissed, and I winced.

“Stop that!”

“He is—” Louis-Cesare cursed harshly in French, before getting himself under control. “He is a good chef. He is
not
my confidant!”

He got up abruptly and began pacing, giving me a hell of a view, but I didn’t enjoy it. It looked like I’d really managed to step in it this time. There was anger written in every line of his body.

“I have existed four hundred years. I have lived”—he spun back around—“I have lived very damned few! Tucked away in the country like a dirty little secret; imprisoned when I didn’t thoughtfully die of some plague before coming of age. Years locked away, before escaping with Radu—who promptly left me before I could
learn how to live this new life of mine. Having to figure it out for myself, and once I finally did, once I began to build a family, once I began to think that finally, perhaps the future would be brighter—
Christine
. Just another sort of prison!”

“And now me.” Because I sure as hell hadn’t made his life any easier.

“You are nothing like Christine!” he said, in my face. “She was a
responsibility
, a mistake I made when young and foolish, and from whom I came to believe I would never be free!”

“Then what am I?” I challenged, staring up into blazing sapphire eyes.

“A joy.”

His mouth crushed mine, parting my lips in a bruising kiss that I returned with equal intensity. My hands caught the sides of his face, digging into that ridiculous hair. All eight pounds of it, soft and shiny as a woman’s, that I’d started out hating and somehow grown to love. Just like I loved—

He jerked back, and the expression in his eyes told me I must have been projecting again. I found I didn’t mind all that much. I found I liked it. Like the mouth pressed into the curve of my throat, my breast, my pelvis, the teeth and tongue altering between laving and nipping, while I stared at the ceiling and wondered if I really had gone mad.

When I let myself think about it, how much had changed, how much was changing, it terrified me. We weren’t what we had been, not any of us. And I didn’t know what we would be by the time the war ended, or even if we’d still be alive. But right now, I wouldn’t trade it. Wouldn’t trade any of it.

I didn’t know that he heard me that time, didn’t know if I was still coherent enough mentally for my thoughts to make sense. All I knew was that he did things I didn’t even know how to put a name to. Until I was writhing and begging and threatening and—

He took my fingers and brought them down to his lips, and then further, to spread me open just that much
more, for him. I slid in knuckle-deep, so ready—I had been ready. And then, his eyes never leaving mine, he pulled my fingers to his mouth and licked them clean.

It felt like something broke inside, but I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t even say please anymore. Just curled my fingers in his mouth and
reached
for him with the hand he was no longer holding. I grabbed and pulled with no real strength, but he came, crawling up my body, letting that glorious hair drag against me, the tacky sweat on my skin amplifying the friction.

Until he settled against me, pulled my thigh over his hip and ground, in little movements that had me sobbing and blinking at the ceiling like I had forgotten what it was, and had him groaning and talking into my neck. I couldn’t understand a word, not a word, because everything around me had become white noise; the ebb and flow of his movements counterpointed with my own so that I honestly couldn’t tell which were mine and which were his.

Until he slid in two inches and stopped.

“W-what are you doing?”

“I will only ever do this the first time physically once,” he told me, apparently serious. “I want to remember everything, every movement, every scent, every sigh.…”

I growled and flipped us, seating him completely, all in one movement, the burn just the way I liked it. “Believe me. You’ll have plenty of reminders.”