Blood War (Page 52)

"I used to dream about us. About you putting your hands on me," Winkler’s smile was gentle. "Come back to the palace with me. We’ll make the bed bounce and then you can read all that boring crap."

"Rubbing it in because you don’t have to read boring crap anymore?" I asked.

"Absolutely. All I have to do is bite heads off spawn. You have no idea how nasty those things taste."

"You poor thing. Should I order room service so you can eat before we bounce? Just to get the spawn taste out of your mouth?"

"I think I can stave off hunger until the bed has been bounced from one end of your suite to the other."

"You know my palace is filled with vampires. Their hearing is very good. All of them will know exactly what’s going on."

"Is Gavin at the palace?"

"Probably. In the office he shares with Tony."

"Good." Winkler gave me his best, wolfish grin.

"That’s just mean," I slapped his arm.

"Nope. Just getting back at the stuffy vamp, that’s all." Winkler folded us to my suite.

* * *

"We will fill your coffers if you allow us to establish our temples on your world."

"But your religion has been outlawed by the Alliance." Tamaritha, Queen of Twylec sat upon her jeweled throne, watching the one who stood before her. He claimed to be a simple priest of Solar Red. She had her doubts—she wasn’t a fool. Nevertheless, her world was in financial ruin—the crown had demanded from and taxed the population to excess. She’d occupied the throne for four years, and those four years had been fraught with disasters and loans come due from other worlds.

She’d borrowed from others, just to pay the old debts. Now the new ones were asking for payment and she had nothing to give. Crops had been bad, newer technology could be acquired elsewhere and disease had killed off herds and a large portion of the population, as well. Twylec was not on anyone’s list to visit, nowadays. Except for Solar Red priests.

Her cousin, Satris, had already made a deal with those devils. He’d been held in the dungeons of Le-Ath Veronis for plotting to murder their Queen. Only Tamaritha’s protests and requests for diplomatic immunity had gotten him away from there and returned to her in one piece. The two friends he’d conspired with had been left behind—they weren’t related to the crown. Satris had railed at length that he’d lost two friends and cursed the Queen of Le-Ath Veronis while he did it. He’d also cursed the vampire who’d agreed to kill the Queen for a portion of the reward money. Cursed him for not dying, as the others had.

Tamaritha had grown tired of his irrationality and hushed him after a while. She should have left him on Le-Ath Veronis, she decided, and asked her healer to be sent in for the headache she’d gotten. Satris was being kept away from the throne room and Council meetings, too—he’d developed a terrible cough her physicians couldn’t cure. Nowadays, listening to her cousin’s coughing and whining annoyed her greatly.

"How much will you pay to establish your temples here under a different name?" Tamaritha asked, coming back to the priest before her.

"Ah, now we begin to see reason," the priest gloated.

* * *

"Here is the agenda for the Conclave," Grant laid the handheld computer before me.

"Lovely," I muttered. I was supposed to go through and review all the petitions, et cetera, so I could cast a vote. The Alliance had five hundred eighty-six members, so we were going to meet in one big meeting hall, I suppose. Everybody would have bodyguards and personal assistants with them, so you could multiply that number by at least six. There were three hundred sixteen items on the agenda.

"We’re supposed to get through all this in a week?" I asked in disbelief. The General Alliance Council, comprised of the twenty Charter Members of the Alliance, reviewed petitions to join and things of that nature, but the laws governing all the Alliance had to be debated and voted on by the monarchs, presidents, despots, autocrats or whoever seemed to be in charge at the moment. That meant I had to go.

"At least half of it is electronic vote, with no debate. Those are laws that are already in place and only need approval to remain in place," Grant pointed out.

"Oh. Well, I guess I better read through this, huh?"

"Yeah. Get crackin’, Queenie pants," Grant grinned.

"Did you call me Queenie pants?" I lifted an eyebrow at Grant in surprise. Some of his shyness had gone away. Truthfully, I was happy to see it go.

"It’s more respectful than itty-bitty pants," he pointed out. Well, somebody had overheard my twins, then.

"Can I go?" Grant changed the subject. "To the Conclave, I mean?"

"I was planning on taking you and Heathe." I didn’t add that Davan would have gone, too—if he were still with us. I was allowed to take up to nine people with me. I’d have to take Grant or Heathe—possibly both; I needed them to keep up with appointments and take notes. That presented a problem. We’d informed the Alliance (through Thurlow), that meetings during the day wouldn’t be a problem. Let them make of that what they would. Grant and Heathe needed to have that ability, too. Grant was in my study; Heathe had gone to run an errand. Just as well, I could only do one at a time.

"Grant, when did you eat last?" I asked, turning the small computer in my hands.

"This morning. Why?"

"Can you bite, without, well, you know."

"Without what?" Grant wasn’t getting this.

"She means without giving the climax." Thurlow folded in. "I can do this for you, lady."

"I’d prefer to do it," I muttered. "I know you did Rigo."

"I did. You need to take him with you," Thurlow informed me. Grant was now staring at both of us, not sure what was going on.

"Grant, if I give you blood, you’ll be able to walk in daylight like some of the others," I told him. Grant had a light in his eyes and he was smiling, now.

"Can we do it now?" He was practically bouncing with joy.

"I have to give formal permission, first," I said.

"And you must be gentle," Thurlow added. Grant frowned at him.

"As if I wouldn’t," he huffed.

"Come here," I motioned for him to stand beside my desk as I stood up. "Now. My blood is a gift to you, Grant," I said. "You will take no harm from it. There are no bindings or conditions, it is freely given." I pulled my collar aside, so he’d have a clear space to deliver the bite.

"I will be gentle," Grant said, grasping my neck in his hands and pulling me against him. He pressed his lips to my neck, delivering a careful kiss, and then I felt his fangs pierce my skin. I must have drawn in a breath, because Thurlow was there beside me.