I've heard you're not supposed to look vampires in the eyes, but I've never had any patience for that, so I just stared straight back at him. His eyes were fine amber; they would probably glow gold if he exerted his power, giving me a chance to flinch if I needed to; but apparently he had far too much control for that. 'You must be Miss Frost,' he said. 'The young lady who almost kept my Lady Saffron from me.'
'The one and only,' I said, tilting my head. I had a whole list of other things I had always wanted to say to the bloodsucker who stole Savannah from me, but I gritted my teeth and kept it to, 'Best magical tattooist in the Southeast.'
But Delancaster caught some of what I had not said from the look in my eyes. 'You have a fire in you,' he said. 'I can see why she nearly turned down my offer of eternal life-'
'You don't have that to offer,' Savannah said coldly.
'Bodily immortality, if you prefer,' the Lord Delancaster said, bowing. 'Or agelessness. I meant no offense to your religious beliefs-'
'Fine, fine, fine,' I said, before he could get Savannah started on that again. 'We're all one big happy vampire family, respecting each other's beliefs, and even managing to pretend Doug's whing-whang isn't hanging out. All that still leaves me wearing this stupid collar just so I don't have to worry about other vampires gnawing on me while I go consult with a graphomancer they're guarding. So whatever you're here to do, let's do it, so I can get on with it. I am on the clock.'
Lord Delancaster looked at me, face oddly blank. 'Very well,' he said, his mask of humanity seeming to filter away, leaving something cold, ancient and impersonal. 'Please tell me this one is willing to give blood-'
'No, and no on other bodily fluids,' I snapped.
He looked at Savannah, humanity flooding back into his features. 'Then how is this going to work-'
'We're going to use a finger stick,' she said, stepping behind the wet bar.
'Of course,' Lord Delancaster said, tapping his fingers to his forehead. 'This is the twenty-first century. But that will only grant a partial protection. I will still need to taste-'
'No,' I repeated.
'Your aura,' he said pointedly. 'Your aura will do-'
'And what precisely is the purpose of this?' I asked. 'Why isn't the collar enough protection? Can't you just use your vampire telepathy to put out the word-'
'Vampire… telepathy?' Lord Delancaster said, puzzled.
'You can't fool me,' I said. 'She summoned you without ever leaving her chair.'
'I called him from the bedroom,' Doug said. 'He has a cell phone.'
'To answer your question, my Lady Frost,' Lord Delancaster said, 'While many of us in the vampire community desire to be a part of the normal human world, others do not. When you asked for our protection, you called on much older rituals. In the olden days, if you had asked for our protection, I would have drunk your blood, tasted your flesh and bathed in your aura, and then, if you were attacked, even if the body were well hidden, I and the other close members of my court could sense your blood in his veins and scent out whether he'd despoiled you.'
'So drink my blood and you're a walking vampire crime lab,' I said. 'Neat. Let's call CBS and see if they're interested in doing CSI: Vampire Atlanta.'
'I like that,' Lord Delancaster said. 'That's more appropriate than you know. With the finger stick, I no longer need to drink your blood, and with modern rape kits, we were already considering phasing out the tasting part of the ritual. But there was another purpose to the tasting; the fluids your body produces are charged with your life force and transmit the essence of your aura. A drop of blood from a wound won't do it. If I cannot bite you or taste you, I will still need to feel your aura.'
'What's that going to involve?' I asked, trying to keep contact with his tiger eyes and glancing away, nervous. Savannah came out from behind the wetbar with a small medical kit. She sat herself down on a barstool and patted for me to join her. As I did so, Lord Delancaster came to stand behind me, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. I looked sideways at them, swallowing: his fingernails were long and sharp, like claws.
Savannah pulled out a small orange piece of plastic and grabbed my hand. Actually she didn't grab it, she just took it gently. But her grip was like steel, completely unyielding, and I bucked uselessly. 'Hey, wait-'
'I don't want to lick a slide,' Delancaster said.
'Doug, fetch us a spoon,' Savannah said, matter-of-fact, holding the orange thing over my finger and preparing to jab. I tried to twist away, but her grip tightened. 'Hold still.'
'You're hurting me,' I said. 'And not the right, it's my tattooing hand.'
'My Lady Savannah,' Lord Delancaster breathed, voice so close to my ear that I felt my heart flutter. 'Be nice.'
Savannah glared at me, then her eyes flicked aside to Lord Delancaster. Finally she let go my hand. 'I'm sorry. But if you want our protection we do need to do this.'
Lord Delancaster's breath was warm and alive in my ear, and I could feel his power prickling over my skin. 'O-okay,' I said, holding out my left hand.
Savannah took it, pricked my forefinger quickly, and squeezed slightly. A dark, red drop of blood welled up, and her lips parted with a small sigh like a little orgasm. Mesmerized, she took the spoon from Doug like a sleepwalker, squeezing my finger gently to release the flow of blood. She looked up at me, squirming on the seat, eyes filled with as much lust for my blood as she had ever had for my naked body-and then Lord Delancaster's lips brushed my throat.
'I will not break the skin,' he said, breath spreading across my neck, deep voice thrilling through me down to my very toes. 'I promise.'
'O-okay,' I repeated dreamily, leaning back against his hard body, slipping my thumb into the buckle of my belt, letting my fingers play over the buttons of my pants as Savannah drained more blood into the spoon. Now I wished I had taken her up on her offer to strip; this was so intimate, so erotic that all my clothing, my armor seemed… inappropriate.
His lips parted, and I felt the side of his fangs pressed against my jugular, just above the collar. My blood pounded in my ears, thrummed though my neck, and I felt a warm, distant drumbeat echoing across the magical ink woven through my tattoos-Lord Delancaster's heart. The drumbeat grew louder and louder, and I squirmed on the seat, sinking back against him, curling my toes. A new drumbeat joined the jungle rhythm, one I instinctively recognized as Savannah's; and I opened my eyes to see Savannah's slender extended arm, and Lord Delancaster draw his lips aside from my neck to drink the blood from her proffered spoon.
The silvery spoon drew back from his lips, and Delancaster closed his eyes in bliss. Apparently chocolate ice cream had nothing on blood. Then Delancaster leaned away. 'I have her pulse,' he said. 'Yes, I have it.'
I looked down sharply, clearing my head. Savannah, looking as sad as a cat whose food bowl had been swiped away, held a white cotton ball over my finger, and was unsuccessfully trying to unwrap a Band-Aid with her other hand. 'Doug, a hand here.'
'Whoa,' I said. My forehead was feverish, and I felt sweaty.
'I have tasted your aura, drunk your blood, felt the beat of your heart,' Lord Delancaster said, stepping back to the center of the room. 'If any vampire I meet has drunk your blood, or taken your life, I will know it. In honesty, I will very likely know if they were to spoil you. I will make this known that you have the protection of the House of Saffron, but the ban of the Lord of Georgia as well.'
'Swell,' I said, a bit woozy. I shook my head, and the room swam. 'Swell.'
'Before I return to my Halloween party,' Lord Delancaster said, stepping back to retrieve his cane, 'is there anything else you want to protect?'
'Isn't my blood, my life and my sex enough?' I asked. I took a deep breath, tried to get a grip on myself. He hadn't even broken the skin, and I'd damn near had an orgasm-no wonder mortals got so easily seduced by vampires. 'Seems, ah, seems pretty comprehensive-'
'What if they decided to take their anger out on one of your friends?' he said, and I swallowed, pulling at the collar. 'Or did something as childish as trashing your car? I'm sorry, but immature vampires can be petty… and creative. We do need to be specific.'
'A young witch recommended this to me,' I said. The sudden surge of adrenaline was doing a better job of clearing my head than my own efforts had. 'Skye 'Jinx' Anderson. And I drive a POS Vespa, but I don't want that trashed either.'
