A Vampire's Claim

Page 43

Now, as he held Danny, felt the grip of fingers he suspected she didn’t realize were clutching him hard enough to bruise, he had an odd thought. Would a vampire know if she was falling in love with a human? Would she recognize it that way, even call it that? And was that somewhere he even wanted to go in his mind? Of course, he was the daft bugger going out to play fox to a pack of vampire younglings so she didn’t have to bow to the likes of Lord Charles Ruskin. Maybe he should be asking himself a similar question.
Too late, he remembered she could drift through his mind like window shopping in Perth, but apparently, she wasn’t at the moment, for he was sure the thought would have brought a mortified reaction. In her world, falling in love with a human was likely the equivalent of him proposing marriage to a cow. A smile tugged at his lips. Actually, in this case, she’d probably get the better deal with a bovine than him.
Though you’re equipped about the same.
He winced, but also couldn’t help the grin. “You love it, darling, and you know it. And I’ll be back to bother you, so don’t think you’re already rid of me. The cook makes marvelous pastries, I’ve heard. A yeast bread so light it floats. Hotcakes, too.”
“Just like a man. You’ll survive for the sake of your stomach.”
“Well, you never know what the afterlife might have to offer. Might be sandy mutton stew and moldy damper. Don’t expect the devil’s got his skillet out, flipping hotcakes in anticipation of my arrival.” Lifting her head, she looked up at him. He wondered if those clear blue eyes had ever filled with tears. If she’d ever let them.
“Once dawn comes,” he said, “I’ll be off. You’ll watch after my swag?”
At her puzzled look, he explained, “Lord Charles set out the rules of the game while showing me his mob. I go out without any supplies, except a knife and one skin of water. Apparently, he doesn’t expect me to survive long enough to need more than that.”
“You shouldn’t have negotiated rules in my absence. Neither should he. I can get that changed. That’s stacking things unfairly on his side.”
“I wouldn’t have taken the pack anyway.” He shook his head. “In this case it would slow me down. Don’t worry, love.” He let her hair slide down over one hand, watching the waterfall of it. “I can handle myself out there. Why don’t you and I make a little side bet on this?”
“That’s not really a bet.” She managed a skeptical look. “If one of us bets you make it and the other one bets you don’t, then the one who bets against wins nothing.”
“Except the smug satisfaction of being right.” Before she could cuff him for that, he pursed his lips, made sure the image in his mind was clear and vibrant. “How about this as an incentive? Something even better than hotcakes.” Exasperation crossed her features, taking away the sadness and worry, pleasing him. “You have a lot of gall, bushman.”
“I’m doing you a pretty big favor. After saving you in the desert, besides. Not that I’d bring any of that up to have my way.” Her blue eyes softened on him in a way he liked, and her chuckle, though genuine, was strained. “Fine, then. But sure as I agree to it, you’ll survive just to see if I’ll live up to my side of the bargain.”
“You bet your arse.” He grinned wickedly. “Literally.” Leaning down then, he feathered his lips over her cheek even as his hands eased down from her waist, curved over buttocks, squeezed enough to make her sidle closer in to him. Oh, yeah, she was responsive there. It was enough to make him hard again, their recent coupling notwithstanding. “I have some fantasies stored up.
Not only about taking you there. I like to put a sheila over my knee and spank her good, get her all pretty and red before I do it.
Use my hand. Sometimes I think about a belt.”
Tina had never been into it that rough. The occasional smack for playfulness, but he was careful enough about restraining his baser urges so she hadn’t been subjected to the needier, rougher side of it. Dealing with his unnaturally sized organ was more than enough to ask of any woman. But he saw the light flush in Danny’s cheeks, the parted lips and considering light in her eye. It made him swear under his breath. God, he wished it was three days from now already. And that he was sure he’d survive. But it would be a hell of a fantasy to die with, all said and done.
“You come back to me, my arse is yours for the taking. Once.” She gave him another exasperated look. “Food and sex. That’s the value you place on your life.”
“Not sex, love.” Nipping her nose, he fought the surge of emotions the return of her teasing brought to him. “Sex with you. You being willing to give over to me, even the one time.” As her eyes became more serious, he shook his head. “No, don’t. I do understand things. About vampires, humans. But for one time at least, it will be just you and me. Give me that, and you’ve given me more than heaven can offer. I won’t be lying down and giving up.”
“Okay,” she said at last, quietly. “Come back to me, Dev. I would miss you.”
“If I don’t”—he curled a mental hand around the pleasure of those words, and held them to consider later—“you take care how you handle Ruskin. You’ve got intelligence, love, but your lust for his blood almost took you into foolishness last night during that fencing match. Don’t bother to deny it. Plan it out as carefully as you did with Ian. More, because now Ruskin knows how devious you can be. And get yourself some backup if you can.”
She gave him a simple nod, not a mildly indignant comment about her ability to do her own strategizing. That alone told him she was still too worried. “When I get back, I will have that spanking,” he added, wanting the spark back in her eye. “You gave me the third mark without my say-so. Everyone will agree there needs to be some penalty for that.” A flash of fire in the blue, another toss of that lovely hair, and her hands went to her hips, raising her breasts. God, she was a gorgeous thing. “You can spank me if you can hold me down, bushman. For that, you better bring backup.” 14
DANNY was in the blackness of her room, missing the first rays of the sun stabbing over the horizon. She knew Charles would have his men out, ensuring Dev left with nothing but that meager amount of water.
She’d had people in her employ devoted enough to be third-marked servants. Some had even asked for it, in some subtle or not-so-subtle ways. Dev hadn’t asked, and even before she’d marked him, he’d been acting as one.
She’d always been curious about other vampires and their third-marked servants, but she hadn’t investigated it too closely. She didn’t have family or friends in the vampire world she trusted enough to say some of the things she’d said so easily to Dev in the past few days. Up until now, she’d picked up snippets about that aspect of a third-marked servant, but never anything like this, which would have made her interested in having it for herself far sooner.
Now she wondered, because of the way she’d left it with Dev this morning, right before dawn. She’d heard his thoughts, been shocked by his intuitive understanding of her, even better than she seemed consciously to know herself. She considered herself happy, well adjusted, but she was also consummately shielded. Not unexpected for a vampire, but maybe even more than most her age. Perhaps that had been her mother’s doing. She stifled a snort at the attempt to apply academic psychology to her family dynamics. Those three or four times during her life she’d chosen to attend a university had been educational. Far better times than this moment, for certain.
She couldn’t stand it anymore. Throwing on her purple velvet dressing gown and tying the sash, she moved swiftly out of the back bedroom, into the front rooms, to the study. It had a heavily curtained window that provided a view of the west side of the station, with the additional protection of the porch overhang. Fortunately the house was quiet. Ruskin appeared to be in bed, all his stockmen out of the house.
Daring a slit in the curtain, standing well clear of the possibility of sunlight, she saw through the crack that there were some stockmen milling about the yard, but no sign of Dev. No, there he was. She could see him, already striding about a quarter mile from the fence line. He wasn’t even glancing back, no more concerned than if he’d finished his beer at Elle’s and was heading back into the Outback. She saw the men scowling about it. One of them had taken up a rifle, apparently with the thought of scudding a few bullets at his heels to give Dev something to be anxious about, but one of his mates wisely put his hand on the barrel, made him lower it. Charles didn’t like his sport tampered with, and if Dev was wounded, there’d be hell to pay. Even knowing that, she found her fist clenched on the fabric, murderous thoughts churning through her head until the muzzle was lowered.
There was nothing she could do to help him. Except touch him with her mind, which, if done at the incorrect time, could distract him fatally. But she could be inside his mind without his knowledge, stay with his thoughts. Returning to her bedroom, locking the door securely, she lay down, closed her eyes. Nothing would happen until nightfall, and she could find him then. A third mark was good for hundreds of miles, though not thousands. Unless his new mark had given him black wings to fly, in truth, he should still be in range then.
Dev was rather surprised the stockmen didn’t take a potshot at him. They were certainly armed to the teeth, as if they expected him to put up a mighty resistance. No wonder they were a bit out of sorts when he thanked them for the water and headed out the front gate.
He circled around and headed up into the hills, but first he pushed his luck, staying within range of their guns and their attention as he squatted over a mudflat, studying the patterns left by the feet of lizards and rabbits, even a few emu. He checked out the landscape, seeing where there might be dry water channels that could help conceal a man as he headed back in toward the homestead. If he survived the next two days, Lord Charles had made sure the final challenge would be the most difficult. If they couldn’t catch him out in the bush, all they had to do was line up at that fence and wait to shoot him, since he had to walk across the open ground to the gate.