'It's hard to see past the vampirism,' she said honestly.
'I wish to God I wasn't one.'
She tapped her cheek. 'Hmmm. If you didn't want to be a vampire, perhaps you shouldn't have drunk a vampire's blood when you were on the verge of dying.'
In an inscrutable tone, he said, 'The turning was done against my will. I was injured and too weak to fight hard enough.'
He'd fought it? 'Who did it?'
'My... brothers.'
This is interesting. 'Are they still alive?'
'I know two are. One is missing.' He clenched his jaw, seeming to rein in his temper. 'I... I do not want to speak of this.'
She shrugged as if she couldn't care less, though she was curious, then crossed over to his sword, unsheathing it. A battle sword. The rosewood handle had scales carved into it and was long, so he could wield it with both hands. The one-edged blade was wide and unyielding. It would have cut through chain mail—or a man's middle—in a single blow.
'You brought this here?' She faced him. 'Did you think to subdue me?'
'I thought to protect you, if the need arose.'
She was impressed with its weight, with the obvious care he'd taken with it. 'It's nice, I suppose. For a beginner.'
'Beginner? I painted that sword red for years—until the night I died.'
He was an Estonian living in Russia, he had 'nobleman' written all over him, and he'd said he'd been in that castle for centuries. Which meant he had to have fought in the Great Northern War between Russia and the neighboring Nordic countries. That had been a gruesome one. Starvation and plague had decimated populations, though she suspected the male in front of her had died in battle.
He said, 'You know enough about swords to see that it is a fine one.'
She sheathed it and laid it back down. 'I prefer light and quick, but with your hulking build, your fighting style would have to rely on brute strength.'
'Hulking? It's not a bad thing to have power behind a sword,' he said in a defensive tone.
'No, but power can never beat speed.'
'I disagree.'
'I've lived for many years,' she said. 'My existence is a testament to speed.'
'Then you have not faced a worthy hulking brute.'
She stifled a grin and said, 'Silly vampire, I would spank you if we fought. And no offense, but didn't you die by the sword?'
'I did. Yet you profess to fight by the sword. No offense, but you couldn't swing a death blow against one of your oldest enemies.'
'I might have chosen not to kill you, but right now, the thought of maiming you for a few days sounds very appetizing. Maybe pluck an organ from you, make you regrow it. That one never gets old.' It did, actually. She'd done it to a leech before—repeatedly, even after she'd tired of it.
'How am I expected to believe that, Katja? I think you don't wish to injure me at all. I don't think you can.'
She sauntered up to him. 'Vampire.' Her hand shot forward to the crotch of his pants and very firmly clutched his sack, her foreclaw slicing his jeans behind it. His eyes widened, and his feet shuffled to a wider stance that would keep his body from falling over. 'I could geld you with one flick of my claws'—she tugged down, making him groan in pleasure and pain—'and I'd purr while doing it.'
18
He suddenly felt the smooth pad of her forefinger in his jeans. At the shock of her cool skin against his, he jerked, but she held him in place with a sure grip. She grasped him, and her forefinger stroked. He found his hands on her shoulders, rubbing up to her neck and back.
Even as he relished his first real touch in ages, he thought, She cut through my jeans that easily? Yes, with one flick. Surely she wouldn't cut him.
'You need to leave, vampire. Or I'll make that gravelly voice of yours considerably higher.'
'Do it, then.' He still hadn't even recovered from seeing her breasts for the first time. Or her bending over. Christ almighty, that had taken his every ounce of control not to seize her hips and fall into her. And now this? 'Do it, or get used to having me around.'
'What makes you think you get to decide the either/or? I might throw a new variable into the mix.' The little witch continued stroking that forefinger, sending waves of pleasure through him. His mind blanked, just as she'd intended.
When she removed her hand completely, he shook his head hard. 'We're at an impasse. I won't leave, and you don't wish me to stay. So, I have a proposition.'
She yawned. 'Enthrall me.'
'You believe I'm a beginner with my sword? Then let us have a contest to see who's the best swordsman. The first to three points of superficial contact wins. If I win, I want your time until dawn to ask you questions—and have them answered honestly.'
'It's against the law to tell one of your kind about the Lore.'
'You don't strike me as very law-abiding.'
'I am. When I make the laws.'
That interested him. Exactly how much power did she wield? Was every creature in this world afraid of her?
'And when I win?' she asked.
'I'll leave you to sweet dreams with your sword for the night.'
'The words candy and baby spring to mind... but you've got a deal.' She tossed him his sword, then collected her own, letting her loose wrist circle it silently through the air. 'When I win, you will leave immediately.'
He freed his as well. 'I doubt—'
She charged, striking with a blinding speed. He barely got his sword up in time. She parried again, and metal clanged as he did his damnedest to block her without hurting her. Her sword wasn't optimal for hand-to-hand battle. It had no knuckle bow to guard her fingers. If he slipped, she'd lose her fingers.
He had a good block and counter to her parry, but if she turned the wrong way... Can't risk it—
Her sword pressed into his chest. 'Point,' she said, her voice laced with smugness.
His lips nearly curled. They resumed. She was astoundingly good. Her eyes revealed nothing. She telegraphed no move, gave him no hint of weakness. He'd never imagined a female could keep him on his toes.
And he found himself enjoying the hell out of it, found himself enjoying pride in her skill. 'You must have trained for years.'
'You have no idea,' she drawled.
Suddenly, she was no longer in front of him. But her sword was. In the blink of an eye, her sword was snatched behind him and planted into the skin over the base of his spine.
Sweet Christ... she moved faster than gravity.
From behind him, she whispered, 'That's called speed, vampire. Beginning to see the appeal?'
Blood dripped. He gritted his teeth. 'A blow to the back, Kaderin?' He was disappointed in her. He'd thought they had found some common ground. Even before he'd been knighted, living by the sword had always meant more to him than merely fighting with a sword. 'Not very honorable of you.'
When she faced him once more, he realized he could no longer treat this with anything but deadly earnest. He had to earn her respect and was learning that she wouldn't appreciate the qualities he'd always thought women valued. Courtesy, for instance, had garnered him nothing at the assembly or at the bottom of the world.
'Honor gets you killed,' she said. They circled each other, her bare feet silent on the tiled floor. Her silk
