Lord of the Vampires (Royal House of Shadows #1)(41)
Author: Gena Showalter

“That makes sense, but I wonder how you crossed over.”

She gulped. “I…I…”

He reached up to cup her cheek. “Don’t fear, Jane. We will figure this out. You won’t leave. I won’t let you.”

“There’s something I should tell you. About me. My job. You might change your mind about me.” She traced the tip of her finger along his sternum. “I said I wasn’t a coward and that means full disclosure, even about this. The things I did, horrible things, to learn about your—”

“I told you before, Jane, that your job—” A pang exploded through his head, silencing him, reminding him of what had happened after he’d fought the ogres here in this very spot. The same spot he’d first drunk from Jane. Pain, then opening his eyes in a new location.

He grunted. What was…? Another pang, this one rattling his brain against his skull.

The cage holding his memories and abilities was crumbling, bit by bit.

“What’s wrong?” Jane eased to her elbow and smoothed his hair from his brow, her expression soft and luminous with concern. “Are you sick?”

Her emotions were in turmoil, yet she cast aside her own concerns to nurture him. No wonder he’d fallen for her so quickly and so easily. “Drinking your blood empowers me as never before,” he confessed, “but as more of my memories and abilities escape, I experience a…wee little pinch of sensation.”

Even as he spoke, one of those “wee little pinches” migrated from his head to his chest, and he hissed a breath. That one had been stronger than any of the others.

“Oh, Nicolai. Now I know why you were reluctant to drink from me. I’m so sorry I made you.”

“I’m not. And you didn’t make me, Jane. I wanted to. Badly. Besides, that isn’t why. Want you healthy.”

A sound of frustration. “Now you’re doing what you said you wouldn’t, and weaving pretty words to make me happy.”

Another pang, another grunt.

“What can I do? Besides never feed you again?”

“Stay with me. And you will feed me again.” Every day for eternity. “This will pass.”

“I’ll stay,” she whispered. “Don’t worry. And, Nicolai, we’ve never talked about my job before.”

“We haven’t? You researched…experimented…” What kind and on who were answered inside his mind, but he was having trouble reaching the information.

The color drained from her face. “That’s right. And you still like me?”

“Jane…”

“Yes, of course. We’ll discuss it when you’re better.” A pause. Then a whispered, “Could we have talked in my visions? Could I have forgotten conversations? Could whatever magic was used on you bleed into me?” She was talking to herself, trying to reason things out.

“Yes,” he replied, anyway. “There’s a chance.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll be quiet. You rest.”

Trusting her, he closed his eyes, breathed slowly, deeply, and simply let the memories come. The first to hit him was of a pretty maid quietly entering his bedroom. Hinges squeaked as his gaze sought her. He didn’t know her name, only that he’d smiled at her earlier that day, and she’d taken that smile for the invitation it was. He was lying on his mattress of plush goose feathers, naked, waiting. She stripped as she approached him.

Just before she reached him, the door opened and closed again. He looked. Another maid. The three of them were going to play. Good. He hadn’t looked forward to a night with only one, a single conquest too easy. Too…boring. He needed to try something new.

His mind shied away from that particular memory.

Once, he might have been looking for more than one partner at a time. Once, he might have wanted to try anything and everything. And that one, he still wanted. With Jane. He wanted to do everything with her, but only with her. Everything they did was a new experience. Exciting, and most of all, soul shattering.

That wasn’t going to change. She affected him too deeply, too intensely. And she hadn’t had much pleasure in her life, he didn’t think. Every new touch from him had left her gasping, writhing, her expression one of wonder and need.

He wanted her to wear that expression forever. Would see to it, make it a personal mission of his.

And what she could do with her mouth…that was magic.

Darkness suddenly fell over his mind, reality becoming clear. He felt Jane’s soft fingers, still smoothing over his brow. Her warm, sweet breath trekked over his cheeks. She had kept her promise. She was staying put.

He couldn’t lose her, he thought. There had to be a way to keep her. Forever.

The book, Jane, her dreams of this world. His spell to bring her here. He focused on those things, hoping to spur the memories in that direction. Shifted glamor, the illusion of someone else’s face masking her own, he knew that much. Also an incantation in the words he’d written? Yes…yes… He’d murmured a spell as he’d written in the book. He’d wanted Jane to be standing beside him—and then she was.

A memory played.

Don’t do this to me. He heard her voice so clearly. I will find a way to help you.

She had spoken to him before their first meeting. Their first remembered meeting.

I must. I need you. Until your body joins your mind, you are useless to me. His reply. Cold, harsh.

But to take my memory, she’d said.

He had taken her recollection of their conversations?

Their voices faded, and his father’s image filled his head. An important memory, but he needed to know about Jane right now. She was the most pressing. The book. Jane. The spell—spells—he’d used.

His father was speaking to him, but Nicolai couldn’t hear the words. The book. Jane. The spells he’d used. Come on. The book. Jane. The spells he’d used. Gradually, the image shifted. The towering form of his father shrunk. Black hair grew, curling, lightening. Harsh features became soft, delicate. Jane’s.

This was his past with Jane, the memory resurfacing. More than a whisper of conversation this time, more than a glimpse.

And there she was, his beautiful Jane, pacing in front of him. They were in his cell. He wore his loincloth and bruises. He lay on his pallet, watching her. From the moment she’d first appeared, untouchable, like a phantom, yet smelling of something wild and primal, he had wanted her.

Honey-colored hair streamed down her back, bouncing with every agitated step she took. She wore a long shirt that bagged on her, and he wished he could present her with silks and velvets.