A Stone-Kissed Sea
Page 48
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Seduce you?” He didn’t touch her. Instead, he let the amnis flow from his feet, into the rock, and spread over her legs. He knew when she felt it, the warm trickle of heat that crawled across those delicate, tempting ankles, up to her knees, caressing her thighs until it reached her—
He sputtered back when the slap of water hit his cheek.
“Stop it,” she ordered.
Lucien was too shocked to do anything but laugh. The sound carried over the water, drifting on the wind that whipped over the lake.
“I like you,” he said.
“Then don’t try to manipulate me.”
“Yene konjo,” he said, “that wasn’t manipulation. That was teasing.”
“So you say.”
“That was also very impressive,” he said. “Just a few days ago, you could barely splash me.”
“I don’t know how I did it.” She lifted her regal chin. “Instinct, I suppose. Don’t ask me to do it again.”
Lucien had to distract himself, or he’d lose any semblance of self-control. “Talk to me about your problem,” he said, starting to move through the tai chi forms again. “Think aloud. Sometimes it’s better that way.”
She hesitated but followed his motions. “I’m not accustomed to collaboration.”
“You weren’t accustomed to drinking blood either, but you’re taking to it like a native.”
“I am a native,” she said, looking around the broad sweep of black water. “Kind of.”
“But not native to immortal life. You’re doing very well though. Gedeyon mentioned it.”
She murmured something and fixed her eyes over his shoulder to stare at the horizon. “It’s the chemotherapy sequence. I’m trying to predict immortal reactions to mortal medications. I can’t predict it with any surety.”
“No surety here. Experiments. Tell me what you’re worried about.”
As Makeda processed the problem aloud, Lucien offered ideas that she picked through like a finicky cat. None of them was quite the right solution, but as she took in more and more information, he noticed her gaze grow less present. She was focusing inward, skipping around a mind that now worked twice as fast as her old one. With time, she grew still, frozen in the White Crane posture, but Lucien could see her mind racing.
He paced around her on the damp rock, watching as she worked through the thoughts dancing in her mind. Every now and then, she’d blurt out a question and he’d answer it, sometimes asking one of his own. Sometimes she would answer. Sometimes she ignored him.
“Makeda.” Lucien could see the beginning of dawn creep behind the mountains. “We need to take shelter.”
“No.”
“We have to.”
Her eyes flew open. “I haven’t fed.”
Damn. She hadn’t. He’d been fascinated by the workings of her mind and completely forgotten she needed to feed her physical body. She’d wake in the evening with her instincts roiling if he couldn’t get her back to shore fast enough.
“Don’t argue. I’m still faster.” He grabbed her around the waist and dove into the lake, cutting through the water and holding on to her by the hand. He could feel her lagging. Could feel the tug of daylight beginning to pull at her.
“Makeda?” He picked her up and carried her when they reached the dock. “Wake up.”
“Can’t.” She sounded drugged. “Not… optimum development… potential loss of…”
Her head fell against his shoulder and she was out. She’d fallen asleep worried about the potential detriment to her cognitive development, if he had to guess. Not worried she’d attack someone or wake starving. Lucien tried not to smile.
She would be hungry and pissed off in the evening, but hopefully she wouldn’t forget what she’d been working on. That would probably anger her more than anything.
She was soaking wet when he laid her on the bed. It was too damp and cold for her to be comfortable resting with wet clothes against her skin. Trying not to look at her as anything more than an unconscious patient, Lucien disrobed Makeda and pulled one of her traditional cotton dresses over her head. Then he tucked her into bed and secured the tukul before he rested beside her.
Lucien was ready when she woke.
He’d woken an hour before her and called for a quart of fresh blood to be delivered. Where Gedeyon was getting the blood, Lucien didn’t ask. He knew Gedeyon and Hirut provided for enough humans on the island to meet their own needs, but they might have to go to the mainland for fresh blood. His brother was well aware of the Elixir threat, so whatever source he had, Lucien knew it would be safe.
Her fingers twitched and brushed against his skin. Lucien rolled closer and Makeda turned to him instinctively. He saw her take a deep breath, and her fangs grew in her mouth. “Makeda.”
Another deep breath. Her eyes still closed, she rolled into him and buried her face in his neck.
Lucien’s body reacted immediately. She sighed and licked out against his skin.
He wanted her bite. By God, he wanted it badly.
Lucien took a deep breath. “Makeda, wake up.”
He didn’t want her to wake up scared or shocked. She’d be more dangerous. He put a hand on her cheek and brushed his thumb over her skin, his fingers teasing her curls.
“Yene konjo, you need to drink.”
Her teeth scraped over his pulse, and every instinct in Lucien screamed at him to bend his neck and press her mouth to his skin so she could bite.
“Don’t what? Seduce you?” He didn’t touch her. Instead, he let the amnis flow from his feet, into the rock, and spread over her legs. He knew when she felt it, the warm trickle of heat that crawled across those delicate, tempting ankles, up to her knees, caressing her thighs until it reached her—
He sputtered back when the slap of water hit his cheek.
“Stop it,” she ordered.
Lucien was too shocked to do anything but laugh. The sound carried over the water, drifting on the wind that whipped over the lake.
“I like you,” he said.
“Then don’t try to manipulate me.”
“Yene konjo,” he said, “that wasn’t manipulation. That was teasing.”
“So you say.”
“That was also very impressive,” he said. “Just a few days ago, you could barely splash me.”
“I don’t know how I did it.” She lifted her regal chin. “Instinct, I suppose. Don’t ask me to do it again.”
Lucien had to distract himself, or he’d lose any semblance of self-control. “Talk to me about your problem,” he said, starting to move through the tai chi forms again. “Think aloud. Sometimes it’s better that way.”
She hesitated but followed his motions. “I’m not accustomed to collaboration.”
“You weren’t accustomed to drinking blood either, but you’re taking to it like a native.”
“I am a native,” she said, looking around the broad sweep of black water. “Kind of.”
“But not native to immortal life. You’re doing very well though. Gedeyon mentioned it.”
She murmured something and fixed her eyes over his shoulder to stare at the horizon. “It’s the chemotherapy sequence. I’m trying to predict immortal reactions to mortal medications. I can’t predict it with any surety.”
“No surety here. Experiments. Tell me what you’re worried about.”
As Makeda processed the problem aloud, Lucien offered ideas that she picked through like a finicky cat. None of them was quite the right solution, but as she took in more and more information, he noticed her gaze grow less present. She was focusing inward, skipping around a mind that now worked twice as fast as her old one. With time, she grew still, frozen in the White Crane posture, but Lucien could see her mind racing.
He paced around her on the damp rock, watching as she worked through the thoughts dancing in her mind. Every now and then, she’d blurt out a question and he’d answer it, sometimes asking one of his own. Sometimes she would answer. Sometimes she ignored him.
“Makeda.” Lucien could see the beginning of dawn creep behind the mountains. “We need to take shelter.”
“No.”
“We have to.”
Her eyes flew open. “I haven’t fed.”
Damn. She hadn’t. He’d been fascinated by the workings of her mind and completely forgotten she needed to feed her physical body. She’d wake in the evening with her instincts roiling if he couldn’t get her back to shore fast enough.
“Don’t argue. I’m still faster.” He grabbed her around the waist and dove into the lake, cutting through the water and holding on to her by the hand. He could feel her lagging. Could feel the tug of daylight beginning to pull at her.
“Makeda?” He picked her up and carried her when they reached the dock. “Wake up.”
“Can’t.” She sounded drugged. “Not… optimum development… potential loss of…”
Her head fell against his shoulder and she was out. She’d fallen asleep worried about the potential detriment to her cognitive development, if he had to guess. Not worried she’d attack someone or wake starving. Lucien tried not to smile.
She would be hungry and pissed off in the evening, but hopefully she wouldn’t forget what she’d been working on. That would probably anger her more than anything.
She was soaking wet when he laid her on the bed. It was too damp and cold for her to be comfortable resting with wet clothes against her skin. Trying not to look at her as anything more than an unconscious patient, Lucien disrobed Makeda and pulled one of her traditional cotton dresses over her head. Then he tucked her into bed and secured the tukul before he rested beside her.
Lucien was ready when she woke.
He’d woken an hour before her and called for a quart of fresh blood to be delivered. Where Gedeyon was getting the blood, Lucien didn’t ask. He knew Gedeyon and Hirut provided for enough humans on the island to meet their own needs, but they might have to go to the mainland for fresh blood. His brother was well aware of the Elixir threat, so whatever source he had, Lucien knew it would be safe.
Her fingers twitched and brushed against his skin. Lucien rolled closer and Makeda turned to him instinctively. He saw her take a deep breath, and her fangs grew in her mouth. “Makeda.”
Another deep breath. Her eyes still closed, she rolled into him and buried her face in his neck.
Lucien’s body reacted immediately. She sighed and licked out against his skin.
He wanted her bite. By God, he wanted it badly.
Lucien took a deep breath. “Makeda, wake up.”
He didn’t want her to wake up scared or shocked. She’d be more dangerous. He put a hand on her cheek and brushed his thumb over her skin, his fingers teasing her curls.
“Yene konjo, you need to drink.”
Her teeth scraped over his pulse, and every instinct in Lucien screamed at him to bend his neck and press her mouth to his skin so she could bite.
