“You could come with me.” The words escaped in a rush, and completely without my permission. I started berating myself before the echo had even faded. Stupid, stupid, stupid! What was I thinking?
Nigellus lifted an interested eyebrow and looked to Rans. But the vampire’s face could have been cut from marble.
“I can’t.” It sounded like the words had been torn from him. “The answers I need are on Earth. You know that. Both of you.”
“I know,” I said quickly, scrambling for damage control. “I know they are, Rans. But... maybe you could come visit, or—” I winced. Of course he couldn’t come visit. If he tried, he’d never be able to leave. “Sorry. I guess that won’t work. I could come to you, though! If I can come and go from Hell as I please, I mean...”
I was babbling. A grim smile touched Rans’ lips... and went no further.
“Conjugal visits, luv?” he asked. “Sounds like a good way to torture myself for a few decades.”
I deflated, peripherally aware that Nigellus still appeared fascinated by the exchange.
“Opaque motives, indeed,” he murmured, before clearing his throat. “Ransley, while you may not believe it, my only concern is in keeping both you and Zorah as safe as possible—in what is, to put it mildly, an inherently unsafe situation.”
Fiery blue eyes turned toward our host. “I’ve managed to survive not only the passage of time, but also the genocide of my race, Nigellus. I am perfectly capable of protecting Zorah here on Earth.” That gaze flicked to me, and turned pointed. “Always assuming she doesn’t try to run away from me again.”
It was difficult not to wilt beneath that look, but I managed it. “You know why I did it,” I said. “I won’t apologize for it. If that’s a problem, maybe you’d like to apologize for stealing Nigellus’ crystal and binding yourself to me.”
He didn’t even blink. “Not so you’d notice, no.”
* * *
Dinner was a somber affair, though the lamb was amazing. Who’d’ve thought that mint could be paired with red meat, as well as chocolate? Somewhat to my surprise, Rans and Nigellus maintained a wary truce during the meal rather than continuing to argue about where I should be hidden away for safekeeping.
I really, really didn’t like the feelings that idea provoked in me. Maybe some girls aspired to being the damsel of the story. I didn’t. Yet here I was, powerless to protect myself—or anyone else, for that matter. And I hated it.
I still hated it hours later, when I flopped facedown onto the comfortable bed in one of Nigellus’ guest bedrooms, sated and buzzing with Rans’ sexual energy. It didn’t help that I apparently had a kink for angry sex... though we’d at least managed not to break anything or make enough noise to wake the dead this time.
“Do you have to be so damned good at that?” I said into the pillow.
With difficulty, I scooted around until I was on my side, facing my bed partner. For his part, Rans looked like he’d been flattened by a very enjoyable bus.
A pleasure bus.
Or... something.
I sighed and dug my fingers into my eye sockets, trying to get my brain to reboot.
“All those centuries of practice ought to be good for something,” Rans told the ceiling.
“Man-whore,” I muttered.
“Says the succubus,” he shot back.
Touché. Maybe if I fucked him again, I could shut down his capacity for witty comebacks? But... no. Bad girl. No more fucking while we still had things to discuss. Important things.
I exhaled slowly, and he peeled open an eyelid at the sound.
“You’re going to try to have a serious conversation with me while I’m battling a post-coital coma, aren’t you?” he asked.
Rather than answer, I shoved my wrist toward his face. His answering sigh had nothing to do with a need for oxygen, but he took it and slid his fangs into the delicate skin without argument. Knowing it wouldn’t project the no-nonsense air I was going for, I tried not to moan wantonly or rub my thighs together as delicious heat spread through my veins. I was... mostly successful.
He finished with a decadent lick across my pulse point, holding his lips over my flesh until the two tiny punctures knitted together beneath the power of vampire saliva.
“All right. Go on, then,” he said, still sounding tired.
I drew in a breath, marshalling my arguments. “I have to check for myself that Dad’s safe, and that they’re looking after him, Rans. You didn’t see him on Dhuinne. It was like... he was still there, but whatever he’d seen—whatever they’d done to him—had forced him to retreat so far into himself that I don’t know if he can ever get back. What if he never recovers?”
He pulled me closer, until I was pillowed against his chest with his arm wrapped around my shoulders. For a moment, I didn’t even realize how badly I was trembling. I still didn’t want to be the damsel in this story, damn it. I didn’t want to need him like this.
But I did need him right now. Desperately. I burrowed my face against his pale skin.
“The Fae tortured you.” His words were low, but even.
I wasn’t sure if they were meant as an answer to what I’d said, or if we were having two conversations entirely. It didn’t matter, though, because I had no intention of reliving what had happened to me at Caspian’s hands.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said quickly. “I’m fine now. You gave me vampire blood and sex, and... I’m fine.”
“Mmm. You know what I hate most about being tortured?” he asked. His tone was oddly conversational, and he continued without waiting for me to answer. “I suppose there are two things, really. There’s the
