Tempt (The Kresova Vampire Harems: Aurora Book 2) Page 7

  She moans like the bitch in heat she is, and I’m almost convinced she’ll straddle him right there, try and climb him like a tree. But she stops. Maybe the game’s not as entertaining when she has preparations for three other vampire courts to plan. Or maybe she isn’t getting the rise out of me she hopes.

  Good.

  I won’t give that bitch the fucking pleasure.

  I just fucking won’t.

  “Well, I suppose Carver and I will catch up soon enough. There’s so much to be done, and I don’t want to stray too far, mon assassin, but for now, let’s stick on business.

  Carver bows low and I notice the way his pants have tented, the ways she’s tormented him to erection in front of the court and humiliated him for all to see. How many times has she done that to him before? How long was he her Lord of Pleasure, and the man she humiliated for her own ends?

  One day, and I’m not sure how, but one day I’ll help Abe pull her spine from her body if it’s the last thing I do, and beat her with it. Especially because of what she’s done to Carver.

  “My queen, we’re honored to be here.”

  She turns her feet to me and hums to herself. “Girl, face me.”

  I swallow and hope that I don’t do anything dumb. My big mouth is probably already legendary among the Kresova and it’s impossible for me to keep from blurting things I shouldn’t when I’m pissed off. And the number one thing that makes me see fucking red is Queen Morana.

  “My queen,” I say, feeling like something slimy has slid down my stomach as I speak.

  “Yes, exactly. That’s who I am to you, and you must never forget it.”

  “I haven’t so far.” I ignore the sharp glance from Carver and bite my lip. I couldn’t help that one.

  She nods and takes a seat back in her throne. “I cannot wait to show our newest Kresova to the assembled courts for the centennial. You’re adequately attractive, of course. That reflects well on me even if you were an accident.”

  “Thank you,” I say, even while in my head I’m screaming a torrent of curse words that would make a damn sailor blush.

  “Of all the mistakes that rogue group made in the new world, you’re one of the only five I’ve enjoyed this much.”

  Carver’s eyebrow shoots up. “You found the others?”

  If my heart weren’t already dead, it would have stopped by now. Gee thanks for the compliment, whore. Did she find a Dria before we could? Did she find and kill one of the rest of us? Or maybe there are other girls out there like me who don’t even know what they are.

  Morana shrugs languidly. “A few male vampires who seemed strong enough, who had enough stamina…” She draws out that word in a way that makes it sound like a filthy word in and of itself. “…to please me. They’ll be introduced as well. Still, I must admit that Aurora is the light of our new crop. She’s quite amusing.”

  It takes everything I have not to bunch my hand into a fist at my side. “Thank you.”

  “And I hope now that the rogues seemed to have stopped siring fledglings that our problems in New Orleans and beyond are over.”

  “Huh?” I blurt.

  She laughs, feigning amusement but there’s a coldness in her wide eyes as she regards me. I’m the insect she needs to squash, and she’s not about to let me forget it.

  “You had problems in New Orleans. I heard about that dreadful attack.” She lets her gaze linger over Carver. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that nothing horrible came of it. I’ve got Charles and some of my closest court members investigating it.”

  Oh, I just bet she did…

  “Thank you, my queen, but I’m sure I can find out who attacked us without wasting court resources.” Carver dips his head low. “It would be my honor to do this for you.”

  Morana laughs and then rises again, moving toward us to cup Carver’s manhood. The embarrassment is plain in his face, in the defeated set of his shoulders but, if anything, it only makes Morana grip him more tightly. “You don’t need to offer that, mon assassin. You’re my truest pleasure. If someone has come for your blood, well, that’s an act of war against me, and I will never stand for it.” She eyes the assorted court members gathered around us in the throne room. “Any show of force against me and mine will be met with the most drawn out, painful death imaginable. Is that understood?” Her cold gaze focuses solely on me on that last part. “My children are mine, and no one fucks with my property. Is that understood?”

  A chorus of sycophantic adoration rings out across the chamber.

  If I were still human, I’d be ralphing at how disgusting all of this is.

  Finally, she releases Carver. “Now, I have others of the court to plan with and so many last-minute things to approve of before the unveiling tomorrow night. Please, have a good time mingling with the family. After all, we’re all one, happy group, aren’t we?”

  She smiles but it looks wrong on her, a gesture she’s never made in earnest.

  The crowd again murmurs its reassurances, sucking up like the whipped stooges they all are. For now, I follow the older vampires lead. I have to stay alive to stop her, and if I have to humiliate myself tonight to do it, it’s a small sacrifice.

  Once Carver’s released, we edge our way to the far corner of the room. Charles starts to drift over to us but an angry glare from Carver sends him scurrying away like the rat he is. Relaxing, I wind my arm through Carver’s and lean on him. I take in his scent and revel in his musk. I’m starving, and I must feed tonight. I’ve gone too long already with all the travel and chaos. Soon, we can be back at Versailles, and I can lap the blood fresh from my lover.

  A man I don’t know sidles up next to us, and I welcome the distraction. I don’t know what to make of him. Like most vampires or supernatural creatures I’ve met, he’s large. I don’t know if there’s a rule against making weaklings and short dudes otherworldly but, aside from Charles, almost all of Morana’s court are as strong and broad as various types of Olympic athletes. Maybe some differences in overall shape, but no question about the pure, masculine energy flowing through them. It’s comforting to know that Carver could take Hugo. Hugo’s never threatened me, but there’s something about him. I’m not scared. After all, I’m an effing vampire too and can kick some ass of my own. (CHECK THIS, she shouldn’t know Hugo yet. )

  But there’s something…

  I can’t put my finger on it.

  He nods toward me and snorts toward Carver. “Marceau, I see that centuries may pass but some things never change.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He laughs, long and loud. “Once the queen’s whore, Carvell, always her whore.”

  My nostrils flare, and I stride up next to him until I’m practically on top of him. “Don’t ever say that.”

  The other vampire sighs. “I thought you’d do more when you stopped being her main assassin, Marceau. You certainly lectured about duty and morality and keeping up the laws of vampire kind. It disappoints me to see you back in Paris, and all that dissolving in an instant, like a cobweb in a rain storm.”

  Carver jaw is clenched so tight that I’m amazed her can eventually open his mouth to speak. “People do change.”

  “Perhaps, but Vampires do not,” The vampire replies.

  “I haven’t left nearly the carnage you have, Hugo. Don’t even pretend otherwise.”

  “We all have our skeletons in our closets,” he concedes even as his fangs descend.

  “Boys, boys,” I chide. “You can show me whose fangs are bigger some other time. Hugo, you probably didn’t come up to us to chat about the weather or ask us how our flight was.” I stick my hand out to shake his. “I’m Aurora.”

  “Hugo.” He takes my hand in his and brings it to his lips. His tongue darting out to lick the back of it. I just barely refrain from wiping it on my dress in disgust.

  “Fang measuring, chérie?” Carver asks.

  “Or anything else,” I snap. I’m already on edge being this close to
Morana. The last thing I need is to keep two huge vamp guys from tearing into each other. Or worse, starting a riot or something. “Is there something you needed to say, Hugo?”

  Hugo narrows his eyes. “I don’t necessarily know if Marceau is in the level.”

  “It’s ‘on the level,’” I correct. “Trust me, whatever he knows, I know and vice versa.”

  The vampire before me laughs. “Oh Carver, you have this fledgling fooled about so much about you. It’ll be delicious when all the truth comes pouring out.” Leaning lower, Hugo whispers in my ear. “I have some of the info you’re looking for. Not here, but tomorrow.”

  He pulls away from me and nods toward some vampires dressed more like something out of The Three Musketeers than contemporary tuxes. “I think I need to go.”

  Carver bares his fangs, his velvety voice distorted as he talks. “You need never to have come.”

  “Marceau,” Hugo practically growls. Then he bows low to me, “Aurora. The pleasure was all mine.”

  I lead Carver to another corner by the elbow and hope my touch is soothing him. Everything in me has to be so tightly controlled in the court, in the middle of this potential catastrophe. Tonight, I’m just not sure I can make sure he’s reined in, too.

  Chapter 10

  After a long evening navigating intrigue that would make Cersei Lannister tremble, we were able to survive and make our way home to Carver’s castle at Versailles.

  Home. I’ve only been in France for a little over a day. I haven’t spent much time in his manor, but it’s home. Anywhere that Carver and I can be together is the place my heart belongs, the hearth I can cling to. Carver was quiet on the way home, and I let him have that silence. Morana had humiliated him, and Hugo had dug in his barbs as well. For someone as proud and strong as Carver, it would take time to work his way through those insults.

  However, while I get that Carver needs some space, there’s only so much patience I can show tonight. I’m starving, and I need to feed. But it’s more than that. Carver needs to be reminded of who he is now, of who he is to me. He’s not Morana’s anymore, and he’s not just the Lord of Pleasure. I know when I first started to understand his old role in the court that I mocked him for being the queen’s whore too. But he’s not that man anymore. He’s not her whore; he’s my champion.

  Even though Carver makes a mad dash through the estate the second the limo driver pulls to a stop, I don’t let him escape. He pours on the speed and loses me at first. The labyrinthine hallways bob and weave endlessly and, if I were human, he’d have lost me for sure. I’m not, though, not anymore, and I have needs only he can fill. Opening up my senses, I focus my nose and find him, that spicy, enticing scent that’s purely Carver. Only Carver. Running as fast as I can, I find myself out on a balcony not too far from the west wing where Reina and Row were staying. His hands are planted on the balcony’s railing and he’s staring ferociously up at the stars as if they can offer the answers to the secrets of the universe.

  “Ma belle, I know I promised you fun in the middle of these tedious court dealings, but I cannot tonight.”

  “You knew I was here?”

  “I always know. I could feel you before I even got to the United States that first time. I was sent for you, but my blood and my body would have dragged me there regardless. You called to me.”

  My hand grazes over his cheek, the roughness of his stubble teasing my palm. “Then, let me calm you now. You’re upset, I’m hungry, and we’re both stressed. Carver, love, we need each other.”

  He swallows hard and his Adam’s apple bobs with the motion. Lust flashes to life within me and my core is already wet and ready with need. That’s the power he has over me, the draw I can never resist. That I’d never want to ignore.

  “I can’t.”

  “If this is about that bitch Morana or Hugo…”

  “Hugo may have information that could help us. I despise him, but I don’t cut off my sources out of spite. Too much is at stake.”

  “Then about Morana---”

  “This is actually about Harlow.”

  I blink, confused as fuck. If anyone has a past with Harlow, then it’s Lucian. While they’re clearly on good terms too, Carver’s not exactly close to her. “I don’t understand.”

  Carver pulls his phone from his tuxedo pants pocket and flips to a message. “I received it in the limo on the way home. That’s what I was mulling over when I was so silent.”

  If that’s all he wants to admit to, I’ll let him. I get that any news from a prophetess can be scary as hell, but there’s more bothering him. We’ll come back to that later, to everything that Morana has done to him, to all she’s taken from him. He slides the phone into my palm and I skim it. My heart lurches into my throat, and I have to be reading it wrong.

  Carvell, you must leave Paris, leave EUROPE, as soon as you can. Something dark is coming---rising even as I type this---to torment you. Get out while you still can, H.

  “I don’t…this can’t be,” I say. Air won’t come into my lungs. I don’t need it to live anymore, but I need something to help me speak. That hasn’t changed. Gulping anything into my lungs takes so much effort, almost as if I’ve forgotten how to do it. “She just saw this?”

  Carver nods and pulls the phone back. “That’s all she saw. I already probed her further down the text chain. Chérie, I’ve been the assassin for the Kresova queen for centuries, or I was before I stepped back. There’s always torment and hardship. I’m not leaving you alone with the court unguarded, and I’m not abandoning our search for the Drias or for Abehartach. It matters too much.”

  Reaching up, I force him to look at me. The pain swimming in those arctic eyes cuts through me like a blade. “If I lose you, then nothing else matters. We can’t unite all the Drias and stop this madness without my harem intact. If Harlow says danger is coming, you have to go.”

  “She says torment. It could be an emotional test. It’s true that she can catch a glimpse of the future, but she doesn’t know every detail.”

  “You trusted her enough to bring me to her.”

  “Yes, but I’m not leaving you alone in Morana’s backyard. You won’t survive it. She’ll try something treacherous when she has the chance, and I’m not leaving.”

  “We’ll get Lucian here, or at least let me call Rowland and Reina back here. Row can have my back.” Changing tactics, I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my face to his back. “I’m not letting you get hurt for me. I’m not worth that. Fuck, I’d never ask for that.”

  Finally, Carver turns around to face me. Sweeping me into his arms, he draws me so close that my lips are inches from his. Every instinct within me screams to kiss him, that everything can be solved by making love. But that’s not correct, not this time. Some things have to be said with words.

  “Chérie,” he says, his voice as smooth as hot fudge and as delicious. “You don’t have to ask. It’s what I want to give. You’re my queen---my real queen---and I love you.”

  “I love you too, Carver. I couldn’t live without you. The mission matters and I matter, but if I lose you, then what’s the fucking point?”

  This time he does kiss me. His tongue caressing my own, his breath hot and tender in my mouth. I can taste the gin and vermouth he had at the court, the hint of blood from him having fed while he was out. My stomach churns and growls. My fangs descend despite everything and a slight silver film colors my eyes. I know I’ve changed, become more vampiric before him. God, I’m hungry. I want him---body, souls, and blood---but I can’t let him kill himself for me.

  I’d never survive his loss either.

  Carver pulls back, and his eyes bore into mine, an icy blue so pure I’m sure they can see through my souls. “Destiny drew me to you because I love you and because I’m strong enough to protect you.”

  “I can protect myself.”

  “You’re brave and strong, but you’re still a fledgling, and you don’t have the strength to take on a fraction of the o
lder vampires in the court, to navigate an alliance with Lavinia and the Daks. I have to be here.”

  I sigh in his embrace. “But the torment.”

  He grips me more tightly. “Ma belle, we’ll face this all together. The biggest torment on earth would be forcing myself away from you. Wherever you go, I go.”

  “Then we both need to deal with whatever games Morana wants to play and get the effing hell out of Dodge as fast as we can.”

  “What is this ‘Dodge?’” he asks, quirking his head at me.

  Shaking my head, I giggle. “That’s the risk in dating a super old French dude. It’s an expression. It means leaving a shitty place.”

  “You Americans and your Americanisms.” He smiles, then drops it quickly. “You are right, though. I never want to spend more time around her than I have to. It’s the best way to keep one’s head in court.”

  “But there’s one you’re wrong about.”

  “Is there?”

  “That first night we met on the roof, you said that I was looking for a fuck. I mean, I was because I was so hyped up with the change and everything that came with it. When it was some guy in a bar, I was looking to fuck. With you…”

  “The Lord of Pleasure,” he supplies, the bitterness clear in his voice.

  My lips tease his, taste him, and then I trail kisses over the side of his jaw and the five o’clock shadow there. Looking up into gorgeous crystal eyes, I offer him my deepest truth. “That’s not who you are anymore, and that’s not all you ever were.”

  “I assure you, my reputation as a whore even in my human youth was legendary. I was the best at a quick fuck.”

  “But you were wrong about me…about us.”

  Deep lines furrow on his forehead between his brows. “How so, chérie?”

  “I wanted to make love to you in that moment, even on the roof. Whatever we do together is about us, and it’s about love. It always has been.” My body shakes and my vision swims.