“You. I can promise you freedom. No more guilt. No more shouldering the weight of a losing battle. You can’t protect everyone, Ashe. Let it go. Let yourself go.”
“And what? Die? Suck blood for a living?” She felt dizzy, as if the ground were slowly falling away under her feet. The feeling was spiked with terror that he understood her all too well.
Belenos’s lips brushed the fine hairs by her ear as he leaned close to whisper, “Think of the risks you take. Think of how you dance on the edge of death, greedy for that rush of adrenaline to make you feel alive. You’re already in the darkness, Ashe. Give in to it. Thrive on it.”
He bent down and kissed her forehead. She cringed, even though his lips were warmer than she expected, the kiss tender. He brushed her eyelids, the corner of her mouth, and then took her in a full-on embrace.
“Get off me,” she muttered. She couldn’t pull away. Her strength had fallen to dust, staked in its turn. “I don’t belong to you.”
“Not yet,” he said, the words sinking down to her bones.
And yet, there was nothing lewd in his kiss. It was careful, the merest suggestion of fang and tongue. A promise. Forgiveness. Almost a benediction.
As if he knew just how she would have wanted a first kiss from her king.
He released her, holding her face in his hands. The topaz eyes trapped hers. “If you accept my dark gift, I’d be happy to keep you by my side. Or I could offer you ultimate peace.” His gaze traveled to her parents’ graves. “Or I could simply let you go. Any of these outcomes are acceptable, as long as you give me what I want.”
Ah, here comes the punch line. Cynicism sliced through whatever mojo held her still. She shook him off, and he let her go. He had already made the point that she could wander only as far as he allowed.
“Your minion said you wanted an heir.” She said it bluntly, maybe to shock herself awake. It didn’t work. “Save your efforts; I’m on the pill. Oh, wait—vampires can’t have babies. Looks like there are some logistics to work out.”
He looked away, laughing almost shyly. “Perhaps, but the birth of your sister’s child opened a realm of possibility none of the Undead had ever dreamed of. The Carver witches are indeed remarkable.”
Ashe folded her arms. “Fuck you. Holly is taken.”
Belenos gave a slight shake of his head. The gold ornaments clattered softly. “Of course. Caravelli is a formidable warrior and a favorite of Queen Omara, for all that he is a headstrong subject. Even I hesitate before taking his woman, which is why I have come to you. You have no one.”
I have someone. I’m sleeping beside him right now. But how long would that last? Never mind that. Five minutes with Reynard is worth eternity with this loser. “You’re out of luck. My powers were destroyed years ago. I can’t do what she did.”
His eyes flared a moment. Was that news to him? If so, he shifted gears like a pro. “And yet you are still of the Carver bloodline. Genetics count, and what magic you lack, I can provide. I planned for contingencies.”
Ashe scoffed. “How? Sure, you’re a vampire king and all, but you’re not a witch. In fact, you’re dead.”
“There are ways.” Belenos gave a derisive smile, a dangerous look on that warrior face.
Ashe didn’t understand, but she summoned enough will to fall back another step. “Can’t you just adopt?”
“Most vampires were born into a feudal world. They understand dynasty, clan, and rule through the right of blood. I can give them a prince. I can give them new hope and a future.”
“Just by having a kid of your own?”
“I can give them a living heir. A prince who is theirs but who can still walk in the sun. A blood ruler who will ultimately sacrifice himself to take his place as my equal and their lord. Such a triumph has never been dreamed of. The vampire species will recognize our right to rule all.”
“All?”
Belenos smiled, and for the first time she saw the long, strong eyeteeth of a male vampire. She felt a tightening in her gut, fascination and terror. This guy would Turn his own kid.
“You know yourself the cruelties of the humans,” he said. “They execute us for the slightest cause; they deny us the vote; in many places they still dictate where we can live. We are stronger, faster, better. Why should we not be at least equal? Why not more than equal?”
“You get all this from having a kid?”
Ashe didn’t understand. Maybe she couldn’t. She was modern and mortal. All she knew was that he scared her down to her bones.
He cupped her cheek again. “My son will grow to be as great a warrior as me. No one will stand in our way.”
“Well, someone wants to! There was an assassin. . . .”
“Yes. There are those that oppose my plan. The demon, for one, double-crossed me and kept the urn. He thinks he is clever enough to escape my wrath.”
Thunderstruck, Ashe stared. “You hired the thief? Why?”
“The urn holds life. I can use that to live, for a time. Long enough to sire a child.”
For a moment, Ashe relived thrusting the stake into the assassin’s soft heart, only this time it was Belenos she exterminated. “You sick bastard!”
“I would have called it inventive, but there you are.”
“That’s someone else’s life. That’s Reynard’s life!”
He opened his hands in a shrug. “Was he putting it to good use?”
Ashe lunged forward, forgetting everything in a need to rip and tear his flesh.
Belenos caught her by both wrists, holding her in a grip like granite. “Let me protect you. Let me seduce you. I want you to come to me of your free will, just as your sister came to love Caravelli.”
“I hate you!”
“Hate is love’s cousin. You’re mourning Reynard. So be it. He will be gone soon enough.”
Hot rage dried the tears in Ashe’s eyes. “You can’t force me to want you.”
He laughed, a deep, confidential sound that resonated deep in her flesh. “I can strip you of your pride, imprison you, even torture you to do my will, but what sort of legacy is that for my child? You would be no better than a venom slave. My son’s mother must be a warrior, like you. I won’t harm you, Ashe.”
He kept holding her, his grip bruising as she struggled. “I don’t expect you to desire me simply because I ask. Persuasion is a complex art. Conquest is the interesting part of the game. And it’s a game I play very, very well.”
“I’m shaking in my slippers.”
“So you should be. Death always wins.”
“Screw you.”
Chapter 16
Sunday, April 5, 8:00 a.m.
Ashe’s apartment
Reynard woke to the sound of the phone ringing. He couldn’t figure out what it was until Ashe moaned and grabbed the handset from the bedside table.
He sat up, feeling long- forgotten muscles. The room looked like a herd of trolls had stampeded through. Bedclothes everywhere. Clothes nowhere. Sun was filtering through the curtains, giving a muffled brightness to the room that his eyes finally seemed to take in stride. His stomach was raging for food. He was alive.
“Hello?” she said to the phone.
Ashe’s scent lingered on his skin, awakening his need for her all over again.
He looked down at Ashe, who had one arm over her face, blocking out the light while she talked. Pride and wonder rushed through him. He had bedded the Amazon queen, and lived to tell the tale. More than that, he had found her softer instincts, the generous and gentle woman she guarded inside. The one who would give up
