Until the Sun Falls From the Sky

Chapter Eight The Feast

I sat in the Porsche as Lucien drove us to wherever the hell we were going. Ever his new, obedient concubine, I hadn’t asked and he hadn’t shared.

It was taking a lot out of me not to turn and claw out his eyes or throw open my door and toss myself bodily from the car.

The reason for this was not only because my Why I Hate Lucien Vault was so full.

That morning, he came fully dressed from the bathroom. This was luckily after I had plenty of time to dry the tears from my face and pretend to be sleeping. Still, even though he at least should have pretended to believe I was sleeping after he was such a big, fat, vampire jerk, he’d kissed the nape of my exposed neck softly before he left (the bastard).

I then spent the whole day mentally moving everything to a far, far, far bigger vault.

It was also because, ten minutes into our drive, Lucien’s hand had come to my leg. He’d slowly slid the gorgeous material aside exposing my thigh then, when he wasn’t shifting, he stroked the skin on the inside gently, leisurely, enticingly and, worst of all, constantly.

It was driving me mad.

It was driving me mad because it felt so fucking good.

What was worse was that wherever the hell we were going was a long, long way from the house Lucien provided for me.

Which meant my torture seemed to last an eternity.

During that eternity, I decided I’d never forgive him.

I’d never, ever forgive him for forcing my body to betray me again and again thus making me hate myself more than I hated him.

We were deep in the bowels of the city (and “bowels” was an aptly descriptive word), when he turned into an alley.

I didn’t normally hang in alleys but if I were to choose one this one would be near the bottom of the list.

Lucien slowed to a stop and all of a sudden from out of nowhere a man jumped toward the car.

I couldn’t control my surprised gasp.

Lucien’s hand flexed on the inside of my thigh and he murmured, “It’s all right, pet.”

I forced myself to turn and nod at him as if I trusted him with my very life even though I did not. His latest maneuver of driving me down a dank alley was proof positive why I shouldn’t.

My door was flung open and a hand was shoved through.

I shrank from it as I heard a stranger say, “Milady.”

“Take his hand, Leah,” Lucien ordered and I didn’t want to, I really didn’t want to, but I did.

The stranger helped me out of the car. He was shorter than me, wiry to the point of being gaunt and I guessed he was younger than me by at least a decade.

He was paying me no attention even as he cautiously steered me clear of the door before he slammed it to.

His eyes were hungry on Lucien who had alighted out the other side. Very hungry. Creepy hungry.

How incredibly weird.

“Wats,” Lucien said before he casually tossed the keys to his absurdly expensive sports car to a man who resembled a tramp who had just had a clean at the shelter where he’d been given ill-fitting clothes and a not so good haircut.

“Master,” the man panted upon catching the keys, his eyes glued to Lucien and I felt a sick feeling crawl through the pit of my stomach.

Faster than a flash Lucien was at my side, his fingers firm at my elbow, drawing me away from the stranger. The man’s eyes flickered to me before moving devotedly back to Lucien.

“Like they’re all saying, she’s beautiful, Master,” he breathed, leaning into Lucien but holding himself back, quite obviously wary, excited, petrified all at the same time.

I looked up to Lucien to see he was regarding the man with barely concealed revulsion.

“Take care of the car, Wats,” Lucien ordered. Wats nodded, still panting while he backed away, slightly bowing like a mad scientist’s deformed lackey in a bad horror movie.

Lucien moved me toward a door and I followed.

I wanted to ask about Wats but I didn’t. I wanted to run screaming into the night but I didn’t.

Crazily, I also wanted to throw myself in Lucien’s arms and beg him to fuck me against the wall in the alley.

I most certainly didn’t do that.

The door opened before we arrived, a similar character to Wats but rounder, older, with a thick beard and a mess of long, tangled hair was holding the door wide.

“Master,” he whispered reverently, his eyes dropping as if he was too lowly a creature to gaze upon the magnificence of Lucien and my stomach twisted nauseatingly.

“Breed,” Lucien murmured his greeting not even glancing the man’s way, leading me by him and into a dark hall that almost immediately led to stairs going down.

The door closed behind us and I barely controlled my desire to jump or cry out. We started descending the stairs side-by-side and Lucien still hadn’t taken his hand from my arm.

“We get to The Feast, pet, you aren’t outside touching distance from me unless I specifically allow it. Am I understood?”

Oh my God.

He was taking me to A Feast. I wasn’t ready for A Feast, I was pretty sure.

“You’re understood,” I mumbled regardless of my newfound terror, making an attempt to instill in my tone the reverence Breed used, thinking this would annoy him greatly.

Apparently, it worked. His head turned sharply to the side and his fingers dug into the flesh around my elbow painfully.

When I looked up to him, forcing my face into what I hoped was innocence mixed with eagerness (Wats and Breed had given me a great idea), I saw his eyes narrow and his mouth grow tight.

He, and thus I, remained silent as we descended the first staircase. And the second. And the third.

At the end of the fourth, Lucien guided me into my first Feast.

I saw immediately there was a reason Wats and Breed weren’t down here. The place was a crush of beautiful people. Not thin. Not gaunt. Not heavy. Not ill-kept.

Perfect.

I didn’t know where the vampires ended and the mortals began.

And all of them were dressed impeccably. The men in tuxedos or well-cut suits, the women in evening gowns. There was no one there that looked hopeful and desperate to be chosen. No overabundance of jewels and finery. The people here were too cool, too elegant, too polished to exhibit themselves in a way that would cry for attention.

The people were the only thing about the place that was elegant.

It looked like it was made out of cement, all of it, including the bar that ran along the length of one side. The shelves at the back were glass however, covered in bottles of liquor and different shaped glasses, backlit with red lights as was the rest of the place, all of it illuminated by very dim, red lights.

The music was loud. Not rock ‘n’ roll but slow, throbbing and seductive.

As unassuming as it was, the room seemed alive as a hum of conversation ran low under the music. People were standing and talking or moving gracefully between the tightly packed bodies.

There was what amounted to a dance floor but the dancers weren’t exactly dancing. I found my attention riveted to them as I watched the bodies move, pressed tight, swaying against each other suggestively, hands moving, reaching, touching. Faces tucked into necks, lips and, even from my distance I saw a few glistening tongues gliding along jaws, cheekbones, temples, shoulders, other lips. It didn’t seem there were couples but like the group was one, a whole, anyone who joined it would be pulled into what amounted to mass foreplay.

No wonder Edwina, who thought of her girls as good girls, didn’t want them to come here.

I couldn’t believe Lucien brought me here.

Not that I had any problem with this kind of thing, it just wasn’t my scene.

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him if this was also part of my punishment when he dropped my arm, caught my hand in his and he drove forward, propelling us through the bodies.

His grip was sure and strong as he pulled me through.

I saw people turn to him and nod acknowledgement. A few mouthed greetings.

I also saw people studying me, faces impassive, eyes scanning, too sophisticated to be overt but still betraying their curiosity.

Lucien stopped at the bar and, with a tug on my hand, yanked me through the final throng. In a tiny patch of free space, he curled his arm, whirling me so my back was plastered to his front, his arm tight around my waist, his hand still in mine and he didn’t let me go.

“What are you drinking tonight, pet?” he asked, his mouth bent to my ear and it pissed me off his deep voice sounding against my skin made me shiver.

I twisted my head and his came up to give it room to move.

I got up on tiptoes and sought his ear where I answered, “What do you want me to drink?”

Reflexively his arm tightened at my waist as his head shot up and his eyes scanned my face in the red light.

Then he looked away, clearly angry and jerked his chin at the bartender.

It was then I decided maybe I was laying it on a bit thick.

He looked back down at me, dipping his face close, his forehead touching mine, his mouth a breath away.

“I like you best when you’re drunk on vodka,” he declared. His words invoking a memory that made my stomach pitch in a way that wasn’t sickening but it hurt all the same.

I didn’t know what came over me the night before.

That wasn’t entirely true. I did.

I was drunk and my inhibitions were swept away.

They said you act most honestly when you’re drunk which gave me something else to spend my day fretting and getting angry at myself about. And last night, for the first time, I enjoyed my time with him before the bloodletting not to mention the bloodletting itself, which was, I couldn’t deny it, unbelievable.

By the time I’d drunk my last martini, I’d listened to both Edwina and Stephanie talking about what a great man he was, how generous he was with his concubines when they were with him and after he released them. Apparently, he not only took care of them, he still saw most of them, even the ones who were now old and frail. It didn’t hurt that the evidence of his colossal generosity was scattered around me, the clothes, the house, the housekeeper.

Sometime during the fashion parade, I’d forgotten my Why I Hate Lucien Vault and instead only remembered the good parts about him. The way a smile tugged at his mouth. The way his eyes went hooded when he knew I was watching him and I liked what I saw. The way he thought my worst traits were amusing. The way he could sometimes be gentle and patient. The way he kissed.

Good parts he showed upon arriving home, cementing in my inebriated mind that I’d been wrong about him.

Until he proved me right, that was.

His face pulled away, wrenching me from my thoughts.

I watched him glance again to the bar and order, “Two martinis, vodka, olives.”

After this, Lucien was silent and motionless until our drinks arrived. Once they did he passed a bill to the bartender. I took my drink and he repositioned us. Lucien with mostly his side but also his back to the bar. Me turned to the room, my back still tight to his front, my body snugly, possessively, even protectively held in the curve of his arm.

His mouth came back to my ear and, apropos of nothing, he murmured, “Breed and Wats are hangers.”

I hadn’t asked but I was curious to know. I turned my head to face him and when I did I saw his expression was guarded and watchful.

Yes, I’d taken it too far.

Damn.

While doing my hair for the night (Edwina wanted to do it but I put my foot down this time), I’d come up with my plan.

He wanted to instruct me?

Well, I was going to teach him a few lessons too.

But I’d gotten carried away.

I determined to rectify that.

“Hangers?” I asked.

He nodded.

“What does that mean?” I went on.

He looked to the room. It was a gesture I was meant to follow which I did and when I was facing the room his mouth came back to my ear. “They want to be down here.”

I stayed facing forward, something I sensed he wanted me to do and asked, “Have they ever been down here?”

“Never, and they never will,” he answered. “But they don’t give up. Obsessed with vampires and our culture, especially The Feasts. Obsessed in an unhealthy way. They’ve made themselves servants, unpaid unless someone gives them a gratuity.”

I felt badly for Breed and Wats, to want something so badly, to be so close but never to have what you want.

“How do they know about vampires?” I queried since I thought no one but those in the life did.

“They sense us,” Lucien answered. “I’ve no idea how. Very few mortals do. And those who do always become hangers.”

I found this interesting.

“Do people tip them?” I asked.

“Rarely.”

“Why?”

“They’re filthy, ill-bred, unkempt. Most vampires have the capacity to procure the finer things in life and they do, without fail. They don’t have patience for reminders that there might be something less.” I felt my body stiffen as he continued, “And they’re hangers, Leah. Zealots. They make people uncomfortable, vampires but especially the mortals. They’re not only uninvited, they aren’t wanted.”

I looked across the room, taking in the beautiful people who could afford the finer things in life who wouldn’t tolerate the not so beautiful people who had next to nothing.

Then I remembered Lucien tossing his keys to Wats and Wats’s fanatical toadying.

“Do you tip them?” I whispered, thinking he might not hear me, my voice was so low and forgetting he was a vampire, so of course he’d hear me.

“Always,” Lucien answered and I twisted my neck to look at him.

“Really?” I breathed, not knowing why his answer, which was the right answer, meant so much to me.

His eyes roamed my face and I watched the guard go down as they gentled.

“Really, my pet. They wouldn’t eat if it wasn’t for Cosmo and me.”

Without my permission, my body relaxed into his and I faced forward again.

His arm grew tighter around my waist as his mouth went back to my ear. “It doesn’t make us terribly popular with our kind, however.”

“Screw ‘em,” I muttered before I could stop myself and I felt his body shake with laughter as I heard his throat roar with it.

Automatically, my entire being tuned itself to his laughter. Something I hadn’t heard since yesterday morning. Something that seemed to feed me, not like chocolate or some other forbidden treat, but like essential nourishment.

I felt my throat close with fear at the very thought.

In all the time I was with him, a vampire who drank human blood, who was vastly stronger than me (hell, than anyone I knew), who hurt me and humbled me and played my body against me, I’d never felt more fear than at that moment.

He felt it or sensed it, I knew this when his mouth at my ear called questioningly, “Leah?”

I noticed it then. Something else. Something that had been playing at the edge of my consciousness since we arrived.

Actually, two things.

The first wasn’t so much real as it was an undercurrent.

The eyes. The ears. The senses. The attention. Surreptitiously people were watching us, listening to us, probably, as some of them were vampires, hearing our words, smelling my perfume mingled with his woodsy cologne.

I wasn’t the sole curiosity, being new to this crowd.

It was also Lucien. In fact, it seemed to be mostly Lucien.

It was like we were movie stars…

No.

It was like he was a wildly famous movie star, I was his arm candy and we’d gone out to a regular club amongst the common people.

The second thing was what I’d felt at The Selection. The weird drugged feeling. The feeling Stephanie explained was him tracking me, marking me.

“Are you marking me?” I whispered.

His arm at my waist slid up, his hand stopping at the side of my breast, his thumb stroking the skin over my dress there.

I felt his head move, his mouth no longer at my ear but his lips were against my neck.

“Yes,” he answered.

I forgot our audience, who were now getting a show, turned slightly to him and his head came up.

I got close to his face and asked, “What is that?”

He answered without delay. “I’ve tuned myself to you.”

I didn’t know what that meant.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“You know I can hear your heart?” he asked in return.

I nodded.

He hesitated before he went on, “You know I can control your mind?”

I swallowed before I nodded again and asked, “Are you reading my mind?”

“I can’t read your mind unless you’re speaking to me with it.”

Wow. That was a relief.

“So what are you doing?”

“I’ve adjusted you to me and me to you. At the same time I’ve attuned my senses to you, so every breath you take, every slight movement, I know it almost before you do it.”

I didn’t get it but whatever it was, it was freaking me out!

“What does that mean?”

“It means our hearts are beating in tandem. It means I’m anticipating your movements. It says to the vampires in this room who can hear it and feel it, that you’re mine.”

“Don’t they already know that?”

“Yes.”

“Then isn’t that overkill?”

For some reason his face got hard before he replied, “No.”

“Don’t you think you holding me pretty much sends the message?”

“Holding you is a message I’m sending to the mortals.”

I was surprised at that answer. “What do they care?”

“I don’t give a fuck if they care. I care. But it says I’m not here to feed. I’m not here to play. I’m not here to fuck. I’m here to be with you.”

Oh my God.

What did that mean?

I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to know.

And why did my heart skip a beat when he said that?

I didn’t even answer myself.

Instead I asked something far, far more stupid and definitely more dangerous. “Do you do this with all your concubines?”

Then I got the answer to my very stupid, very, very dangerous question.

“I’ve never done it with another concubine.”

I felt my mouth drop open. I knew I was gaping at him and I knew I had an audience. I was just too shocked to care.

Finally, I squeaked, “Why me?”

“You’re Leah.”

He felt this was an answer. I didn’t feel the same but I decided not to push it because I sensed innately that I wouldn’t want to know the answer to that either.

Even though I really wanted to know the answer.

My eyes skittered around the room and came back to him. “Is anyone else doing it?”

“No.”

“There are no other vampires here with their concubines?”

“Yes, there are.”

“But they aren’t doing it?”

“No, Leah.”

“Why not?”

“Because they can’t.”

I felt the martini glass slipping through my fingers but I didn’t notice he caught it by its stem before it even cleared my hand. It also didn’t register that he placed it and his on the bar and he turned me full-frontal into his arms.

I tipped my head back to look at him, put my hands to his chest and stared.

Then I asked, “Why can’t anyone else do it?”

“Very few vampires have the capacity to mesmerize. Those that do don’t have the control I have. None of them, or none that I know, have anywhere near the potency of my ability.”

Oh my God!

“This is crazy,” I whispered.

“You’re correct, in a way. What I can do is very unusual.”

“I’ll say!” I cried.

He grinned at my outburst. I ignored his grin.

“Is that why everyone is staring at you like you’re a movie star?” I blurted, his head cocked and he examined me inquisitively for a long moment.

Finally he asked, “You noticed that?”

“It’s hard to miss.”

He leaned back against the bar and pulled me with him so I was on my toes, my body flattened against his. His hand came up and twisted in my hair like he did when we were alone, not like we were the focus of hundreds of eyes and mammoth amounts of vampire extra sensory perception.

Then he spoke. “It’s part of it.”

“What’s the other part?”

His hand twisted deeper into my hair and his mouth came to mine. “We’ll leave that for later, shall we?”

I wanted to say no, we shall not.

But far more agreeable, acquiescent, hopefully annoying Leah wouldn’t have demanded an explanation.

And anyway, I didn’t get a chance.

He kissed me.

He did this too in the same way he’d do it when we were alone.

In other words, it was a deep, open-mouthed, tongues tangling, make me breathe heavily, fiery shot right between the legs kiss.

Further, there was something different about it, better, more intense, almost overpowering but in a really good way. I knew intuitively it was because he’d marked me. I knew it was because our bodies were attuned. I didn’t know how and I didn’t understand what that meant, I just knew it affected me physically in a way that shook me to my soul.

When he lifted his head, I found I was hanging on, beyond my toes, straight to my tiptoes. My front was pressed deep to his, the fingers of one hand curled on his shoulder, the other wrapped insistently around the back of his neck.

“I fucking love the way you kiss,” he growled again like we weren’t in a jam-packed, vibrating, vampire club. The almost feral rumble of his growl slid through me, making my toes curl.

That’s when I felt it, the buzz, the undercurrent that was focused on us had shifted, intensified, become rapt. I felt eyes on us now and I knew they weren’t furtive.

The heat hit my face just as the danger permeated my consciousness.

“Something’s wrong,” I breathed.

His face took on that inquisitive look again as he studied me then he replied, “Yes.”

“What is it?”

His eyes lifted, moving across the room.

I registered impatience, frustration then stony resignation in his expression before he answered, “It’s time for me to be good, pet.”

This made no sense whatsoever but before I could ask another question, he’d moved us again to our original positions, his hand with my glass coming in front of me.

I took it, lifted it to my lips and sucked back a healthy sip mostly because I needed it.

I should have taken a larger sip because his mouth came back to my ear and he asked, “Do you want to dance?”

My eyes shot to the writhing dance floor and my legs wobbled.

There it was. To be Obedient Leah, I was going to have to do something I really didn’t want to do.

“If you want to.” I tried to sound respectful and subservient like his wish was my command but I wasn’t sure I accomplished this feat.

My fears were proved correct when I felt his body move with his chuckle at my back.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Leah.”

We didn’t?

Boy, that was a first.

I stared at the undulating bodies on the dance floor, trying and failing to imagine Lucien’s powerful frame among them and gulped before asking, “Um, do, you, er, dance?”

“Not publicly, no. However, privately, yes.”

I twisted my neck to look at him. “Privately?”

He grinned. “Drink up, pet, and I’ll show you The Feast.”

I felt my brows knit. “I thought we were at The Feast.”

His fingers wrapped around my wrist and lifted my glass to my lips. “Drink,” he ordered.

I drank and he took my glass, put it next to his on the bar and then captured my hand.

Again, he moved us through the crowd, his hand secure in mine, anchoring me to him as he pushed through. The bodies seemed to close in this time, the eyes no longer averted, the curiosity now explicit.

Lucien either ignored it or didn’t notice it (likely the first). He led me to a back wall where there was an open doorway that led to a shadowed hall. What looked like an overdeveloped bouncer was standing just outside the doorway.

Without hesitation or even glancing at the bouncer, Lucien guided me in.

The hall was long and snaking, turning this way and that, not with corners but with curves. There were no doors which I thought was way weird. It was shadowed, creepy and strangely threatening and if I wasn’t with Lucien there was no way I’d have been there. The music and the hum slowly died as we moved forward and followed the snake.

Finally, with the club just a soft, nearly indistinct buzz behind us, we turned an actual corner.

And I was confronted with A Feast.

My first instinct was to look away.

But it was like a car crash and I couldn’t, no matter how much I wanted to.

It was different here, like night and day. The walls weren’t cement but painted a deep, rich red. The floor was covered in thick pile carpets and pillows. Some of pillows huge, the size of double beds. Some of them smaller. All of them covered in velvet in different rich shades, plum, scarlet, sapphire, ruby, forest green, wine and blood red. There were enormous mirrors on the wall framed in heavily carved, dark wood reflecting the activity on the pillows, against the walls, on the floor.

Feeding and lots of it.

On a double-bed-sized pillow was a woman so stunning she looked like a model, her alabaster skin exposed in a low-cut black dress. Three vampires were attached to her. One at her neck, one at her ankle and one whose mouth was at her cleavage suckling at the side of her breast.

My gaze floated, horrified at the raw, brutal sensuality of it. It was everywhere. I couldn’t escape it.

I tore my eyes free, trying to find a safe place but caught an image in a mirror, a vampire nearly as big as Lucien had a tiny woman pinned to the wall. Her head was lolling on her shoulder, her arms limp. He was holding her to his mouth with his hands under her armpits, her feet clean off the floor, legs dangling. Her face was a picture of ecstasy as blood dribbled down her neck, escaping his mouth.

With nowhere to put my eyes, I turned into Lucien and shoved my face in his massive chest. My hands lifting, fingers curling into his lapels, I pulled the fabric to my cheeks so no vision could penetrate even accidentally.

His arms came around me, a hand drifting up my naked spine, under my hair to rest warm on my neck. I felt his body bow so his mouth could be at the top of my head and my face and torso arched into his to keep the contact.

His voice was low when he asked quietly, “You don’t think it’s beautiful?”

Oh my God.

He thought this was beautiful?

A thought occurred to me and, panicked, my head snapped back and his jerked up to avoid a collision.

“Don’t feed from me here,” I blurted out my plea.

I felt his body jolt then saw his eyes narrow before he asked, “Pardon?”

“Please. I’ll do anything you say. Just don’t feed from me here.”

“Leah –”

I shook his lapels roughly and pressed closer, going up on my toes, so much in a state I didn’t measure my words. “Promise me, Lucien. What happened last night is something special, something that should be between us, not reflected in a fucking mirror for anyone to see.”

At my words, his face gentled, his fingers came to my hairline at the side of my head and slid in, stopping, curling and holding me there before he whispered, “Sweetheart –”

I was too rocked by what I just witnessed, knowing how it felt, seeing what was likely my ecstasy of last night on that woman’s face, I didn’t let his actions register. Or his tone. Or the endearment he’d used last night and this morning which I thought, regardless of the outcome of both events, was achingly sweet.

It was too humiliating by half. Or it would be if he did it to me.

“Please,” I begged on a frantic whisper.

“I won’t feed from you here,” he murmured and with his agreement my relief was so great, my body collapsed into his. My arms went tight around him and I pressed the side of my face to his chest.

He bent again, his words stirring the hair on top of my head. “Do you want me to take you away?”

I nodded, my cheek sliding against his chest and his hand, still in my hair at the other side of my head, tensed reassuringly then slid away.

He took my hand and we were away, leaving the scene behind us, quickly snaking back through the hall.

I found my heart was beating wildly. Without my panic overcoming my being I felt it. In fact it was beating so hard I fancied I heard it.

Then I realized what I’d done and a new panic surged through me.

The panic was so strong I yanked at his hand, planted my feet and stopped.

Lucien stopped with me and looked back at me. “Leah –”

I cut him off yet again, saying, “I don’t want you to think I’m a miss priss.”

He didn’t respond. He just stared at me.

I continued, taking a step closer, tipping my head back to look at him. “It was beautiful. Those things always are. But they’re also raw. That, particularly, was raw. And revealing. And I don’t want anyone to see me that way.”

“Leah –” he started but I kept on talking.

“It’s private and it’s okay if they,” I looked behind me, throwing my arm toward the hallway we’d walked through for emphasis before I turned back to him, “want to give and share and… whatever… but, if you do it in front of others, you give it away and it’s not just yours anymore. And I’m yours, you said so yourself, and I don’t want anyone to have me, not even a little piece of me, not anyone, just you.”

I was so panicked, desperate to give him my explanation, not wanting him to think I was a prude, or worse, to offend him by casting aspersions on his culture, I didn’t even realize what I was saying.

And furthermore, I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did.

But it did.

And Lucien took it a certain way.

I knew this because one second I was standing with my hand in his.

The next second I was against the wall, his body was pressed to mine, his hand in my hair yanking my head back in an arc that was painful not only at my neck but in my hair, and his mouth was on mine.

This wasn’t like the kisses we’d shared before. This one was demanding, bruising, possessive, branding and undeniably savage.

And, it might make me a freak, but I loved every, fucking second of it.

His mouth tore from mine and before I could even take a breath, he asked, “You’re mine?”

I tried to salvage something, anything, “I didn’t mean –”

He cut me off with a growl. “You’re mine.”

Now what had I gotten myself into?

“Lucien –”

He had an arm around my waist and it coiled so tight, forcing me so deep against his body, it cut off my breath.

“All. Fucking. Mine,” he whispered fiercely.

I felt my legs go weak and I knew it was not only fear at his ferocious proclamation but also an unhinged desire that I did not want to feel.

“Lucien, I can’t breathe,” I wheezed in all truthfulness but I’d lost his attention.

His head shot to the side and his mouth got tight right before his hold dropped away. I nearly collapsed but his hand seized mine again and he started striding swiftly back toward the club. Not long after I saw a couple coming our way down the hall and I knew Lucien heard their approach.

As they got closer, I noted it was a man and a woman. They were both so gorgeous I had no idea which was the vampire or if they both were (or weren’t).

“Lucien,” the man called from several feet away.

“Jordan,” Lucien replied.

It was clear Lucien didn’t feel like conversing.

It was just as clear Jordan did for he stopped, halting the striking redheaded woman at his side.

Her gaze flickered nervously over Lucien right before she gave me the once-over and, to my shock, right in front of me, the haughty bitch let her lip curl.

I returned the favor but without the lip curl.

Instead, when Lucien stopped, I moved into him. That alone was going to make my point but Lucien went one better.

His arm slid around my shoulders, brushing my hair with it so it all fell to the front where he mindlessly grabbed a tendril and started twisting it on his finger. Even in the dim light, I saw her eyes focus on Lucien’s hand and her face went pale.

I just stopped myself from giving her a “so there” grin.

I looked up at Lucien and saw his eyes were on Jordan. I looked at Jordan and saw Jordan’s eyes were on me.

“So this is Leah,” Jordan noted.

What?

How did he know me?

“It is,” Lucien agreed.

Jordan’s eyes gave me a once-over too. When they did, the air in the hall went thick and the animosity rolling off Lucien was the cause of it.

The redhead took a step back, my body involuntarily braced and Jordan’s gaze swung to Lucien.

“Easy, Lucien,” Jordan said in a low, conciliatory voice.

“Don’t tell me easy, Jordan,” Lucien returned in a low, anything but conciliatory voice.

“You’re amongst friends,” Jordan noted and I might have been wrong but it seemed there was deeper meaning to his words than the one that seemed obvious to me.

“That might be put to the test,” Lucien retorted.

“I’ll pass or I’ll burn,” Jordan replied.

They locked eyes and the redhead and I were powerless to do anything but look on and hope they didn’t tear each other limb from limb.

Jordan broke the macho vampire staring contest and he looked again at me. I didn’t think this was a good idea but I couldn’t tell him that.

“I can see she’s worth it,” he muttered, his eyes going back to Lucien even as his words made the redhead’s face twist into a pout that I wish I could say wasn’t pretty but it made her look damnably cute as a button.

What I wanted to know, but didn’t ask, was what I was worth.

It was like they were talking code!

Lucien didn’t respond to Jordan. Instead he looked at the redhead.

“Cecile,” he murmured.

“Lucien,” she whispered in a breathy voice.

“Now, Lucien, you released her, remember?” Jordan said and his tone was lighthearted but his words felt like a kick to my gut. The redhead looked like she felt the same and this look was not cute as a button at all. It was anguished.

She recovered before I did, damn the woman.

“I remember.” She spoke up.

Jordan turned to me. “He always gets the best ones. Luckily, sometimes the rest of us can pick up the scraps.”

Everyone tensed then.

Me in an all of a sudden feeling of camaraderie for my female brethren.

Lucien because he could be a jerk but I suspected he was a gentleman.

Cecile because his insult wasn’t veiled, not in the slightest.

“Perhaps you should be on your way,” Lucien suggested from between clenched teeth.

Jordan, clearly a new kind of vampire to me, the demented kind, grinned in the face of certain peril (namely Lucien). “Perhaps I should.” His eyes came again to me. “Leah, it was a pleasure.”

I didn’t know what to do so I simply lifted my chin. This made his grin widen to a smile, he nodded to Lucien and he took Cecile’s arm and moved to pass us.

Lucien moved too. Keeping me to his side with his arm around my shoulders, he shifted us around and his hand shot out and wrapped around Cecile’s upper arm.

Jordan and Cecile stopped.

“Cecile’s going home,” Lucien declared and I felt my mouth drop open as Jordan’s eyes narrowed on Lucien’s hand then on Lucien.

We were almost home free and now foiled by Lucien who was also obviously of the demented vampire sort.

“I beg your pardon?” Jordan asked Lucien.

“It’s okay, Lucien,” Cecile whispered.

“Don’t do this,” Lucien clipped to Cecile.

“It’s okay,” she repeated.

Lucien dropped his hand but he didn’t admit defeat. “Your family won’t agree.”

I watched as her face paled again.

“I’m not sure this is your business,” Jordan butted in, coming closer to the threesome that included Lucien, Cecile and me.

“I’ve selected three of her line, not including her, it’s my business,” Lucien returned.

“You released her just over a week ago,” Jordan snapped. “You had your fill, you’re out.”

My eyes turned to Cecile. This was Lucien’s last concubine.

I didn’t want to meet any of Lucien’s concubines but definitely not the gorgeous, willowy redhead that was his last concubine.

Why did my life suck so much?

Why?

However at that moment I suspected Cecile’s life sucked more which made my heart go out to her, regardless of the earlier lip curl.

Lucien ignored Jordan and kept focus on Cecile. “You know what you lose if you walk down that hall.”

“Lucien –” she started.

He cut her off. “I’ll take it from you.”

Her eyes fell to the floor and she whispered, “I know.”

“Go home,” Lucien ordered.

Her eyes lifted and they were pleading when she repeated, “Lucien.”

“Go home.”

Her gaze flitted to me then back to Lucien and she pulled her arm free of Jordan.

“I miss it,” she whispered.

“You’ll find someone to give it back to you but not here,” Lucien replied. “Go home.”

“I don’t believe this shit,” Jordan hissed.

Lucien’s eyes cut to Jordan. “Janette’s at the feeding. If I’m remembering correctly, she’s your taste.”

“I’ve had her,” Jordan returned.

“Have her again,” Lucien clipped back.

Another macho vampire staring contest ensued and this one was far, far, far more dangerous and definitely scarier than the first.

“Um…” I butted in proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was indeed deranged as all eyes swung to me and all six of them (including Lucien’s) were incredulous. “Can I just say,” my gaze went to Cecile, I swallowed and sallied forth. “You’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Change can suck. Trust me, I know. But, honest to God, you’ll find someone the minute you start looking. All you’ll have to do is snap your fingers. Sure, he won’t be able to move at the speed of light and he won’t feed on human blood but there are always problems in a relationship. Am I right?”

For a second there was complete and total silence and I thought maybe I might have stepped over a line I should never, ever, ever, ever have crossed.

I really should have paid attention in Vampire Studies. I was seeing the error of my ways now.

Then I was curled forcefully into Lucien’s body, his hand in my hair shoving my face in his chest, a chest that was moving, rocking deeply, weirdly, until I figured it out. And I figured it out right before he let out a shout of amused laughter.

I relaxed into him and peeked over my shoulder at Cecile and Jordan.

Cecile had lost her haughty disdain and was watching me with a look that was astonished at the same time it was sad and confused.

Jordan was watching me too, a grin playing on his lips and also, to my shock, he looked amused.

Cecile turned to Jordan and asked quietly, “Will you be angry if I go home?”

Jordan sighed. “It’ll be a loss, dearest, but by all means, scurry home and save your reputation.”

Her look became grateful. It swung to Lucien then even to me before she turned and swanned down the hall.

My eyes moved to Jordan when he spoke and I realized he was speaking to me.

“I hope to see you at another Feast. The next time, heading in the other direction.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Lucien remarked dryly.

Jordan didn’t take his eyes from me when he asked, “She didn’t fancy it?”

“Not even a little bit,” Lucien answered.

“Shame,” Jordan muttered. I shivered, Lucien’s arm tightened and Jordan lifted a hand and then he was gone.

Just like that.

Whoosh.

One second there, the next second he disappeared.

Lucien uncurled me from his body and walked me down the hall. This time he didn’t take my hand but kept his arm around my shoulders.

At the top of the stairs when Breed opened the door for us, Lucien slipped him a bill. I tried to see what it was but didn’t succeed.

Wats was standing sentry by the car right where we left it.

“Everything’s fine, Master, no one even looked at it,” he panted, bowing and holding the keys out to Lucien who held his hand up and Wats dropped the keys in.

Lucien held the door for me and Wats scampered out of the way for him to do so.

After Lucien closed my door, I spied the one hundred dollar bill Lucien slid into Wats’s waiting hand. I also saw the shiver of excitement that shook Wats’s body and I had the feeling it had nothing to do with the fact that Lucien just made him the highest paid car watcher in history but because Lucien had almost, but not quite, touched him.

We were well away, Lucien’s hand back on my thigh after he’d pulled the material away, but this time no stroking, just proprietary resting.

After a while, I couldn’t help myself, I requested, “May I ask a question?”

“Of course,” Lucien replied instantly.

I pulled in a breath and before I could lose my courage, I asked, “You said to Cecile you’d take it away from her. What would you take away?”

Again he answered without hesitation. “Her house, her car, her money, everything I give her to keep her. Everything I’ll keep giving her until she dies. If she falls, which, you should know Leah, any concubine does if they attend A Feast after they’re released, I’m within my rights to cease her keeping.”

“You’d do that?” I whispered.

“In a second,” he answered. “My concubines, current or past, don’t participate in Feasts.”

I was confused. “But you took me to A Feast.”

His hand squeezed my thigh. “To see, to watch, to experience, to be with me amongst my own, not to participate.”

My head turned to look at him. “You were never going to feed?”

He glanced at me briefly then back to the road before he stated implacably, “Never.”

This caused me to feel an extreme sense of relief.

Then I felt an extreme sense of fear that I felt so relieved.

Then I felt the extreme desire to cover his hand with mine.

Then I mentally kicked myself.

Shortly after, the sleek, high-performance sports car eating the miles serenely beneath me, I fell asleep.