Settings

A Vampire's Claim

Page 60

   



“My vigilance is mostly for attacks by other vampires,” she answered, “but dissolute vampires also tend to breed vampire hunters.
Which is another reason vampires like Ruskin are a problem. A vampire who takes his maximum kill, or engages in atrocities with children like he does, tends to create family members who find us out in their search for vengeance. But my father wasn’t like Ruskin. He was set up by his enemies.”
“Your family seems to attract an awful lot of trouble.” Dev squatted beside her, ran his hand down her back.
“We’re the only major landholders in Australia,” she said vaguely. “The rest have property, but nothing like ours. And my family is well established, old. You know how it is, Dev. There are always some who feel they can take what they haven’t earned just because they haven’t been as fortunate, or made decisions as wisely. Or fate hasn’t blessed them with the same luck. That sort of thing.”
When she finally lifted her face, he was struck by her classic beauty and reserve. As well as why her explanation seemed lacking to him. He rose with her, closing his hand on her arm before she could start walking again.
“It’s you,” he said. “You’re the draw of it. It’s this crazy mating courtship you were talking about. That’s why you left forty years ago, as well. To take you out of the equation, let your mother live in peace for the remainder of her life, because it was the only thing you could think of to help her. But you’ve suspected, ever since you killed him, that Ian may have driven her to her death specifically because it would bring you back.”
“Dev, don’t.” But he saw the truth of it flash through her eyes, the guilt and useless anger. He shook his head, took her other arm.
“You’re the prize. You’re young, and the property and title pass to you. Not to mention, I don’t give a damn what Ruskin says, he and every one of them know you’re extraordinary, independent. You have integrity and power both. You should be the Region Master. He knows that. So he wants you gone, or under his thumb. You’re Oz’s princess, love. That’s what it is.”
“I don’t want that. I’ve never wanted it.” She pulled away from him. “My father told me the same thing after he killed Sean. There are five thousand of us in the bloody world, Dev. You’d think we could spread out far enough not to bother one another, but no, we have to act like a bunch of rats packed inside a damn barrel, squirming and biting to get to the top of that stupid heap. It’s suffocating, and I won’t bear it.”
“Some things aren’t a choice.” He caught up with her as she muttered an oath and started striding off in the sand. It would have been amusing, for she swore pretty crook, and her frustrated stomp in bare feet through sand was as waddling as a human. Except, with the truth of it staring in his face, he wasn’t feeling amused at all. When he pulled her around by her arm, he met her killer look and hiss.
“Knowing all this, you set out across the desert with two guides and three men? And now you’re planning to run a station with a handful of stockmen and a bunch of maids? You need an army, love.”
As well as a servant, linked to her mind, who would protect her during daylight, could telegraph information to her through her mind. Now he understood the look that passed between Ian and Ruskin that night when she’d brushed off the idea of having a third-mark servant. She was denying herself one of the most potent weapons a vampire could have. And she would still be without one, if she hadn’t decided it was the only way she could try to save his life. Because he sure as hell wouldn’t have tolerated her being branded or flogged, unless he was a corpse.
“I don’t have a full servant,” she retorted. “I’ve neither asked for that commitment from you, nor have you offered it, for that matter. And I’m not in as much danger as you think.” Jerking free, she leveled a glare on him. “The Council particularly protects the born vampires.”
“You forget I was there, love. Ruskin is right. Seems to me, they might get worked up about your death, but only after it happens.
They’re not near protective enough, not if I was the only thing that kept you from being barbecued out in the desert.”
“Why, Dev, I didn’t realize you had a clucky side. Are you mothering me?”
“No,” he snapped. “If I were your father, I’d put you over my knee and blister you for being so careless of your own life.” She stopped and turned. Blinked at him with those luminous blue eyes. “Well, that makes me think some rather incestuous thoughts . . . Dad.”
When he lunged at her, she was ready for him, slipping past with an infuriating peal of laughter, dancing away and around him as he did his best to catch hold of her. Then he grasped the stockwhip coiled on his hip and snapped it out. It not only caught her in mid-spin, but the end popped high on her arse. He might not move fast as a vampire, but he was learning a lot about using the element of surprise.
“Ouch!” she yelped, but then he’d brought her in to him, loosing the whip with another deft twist of his wrist so it fell down along the outside of her leg. When he clamped a hand on the abused area, she sucked in a hissing breath, but her reaction wasn’t anger.
Seeing it, he muttered an oath, but she was done playing or fighting. Curling her hands in his shirt, she yanked him down for the kiss, roughly enough she ripped the fabric as she pressed herself against his chest.
You’re avoiding the issue.
It’s not your place. Shut up and kiss me back.
With a frustrated snarl, he did, though he squeezed her buttock hard, conveying his annoyance with her. When at last she drew back, he gave her a stern look. “You’ve made it my place, my lady, if you remember. Without giving me any say in it.” He’d managed to get his own thoughts turned in a different direction as well, unfortunately. With the whip wound around his knuckles, holding her cinched to him, it was under her buttocks, taut enough to lift them and send a shiver through her. She could throw him off with barely any effort, but she wasn’t, was she?
“Let go of me,” she said softly. “Right now. Or I will make you very sorry.” He cocked his head, lifting a brow. “What will you do? Beat the shit out of me, shoot me? Tear my heart out of my chest and play with it, take every drop of blood? You’ve made all that happen or done it yourself, my lady. I’m still here.”
“Yes, you are.” Abruptly she sighed. “Okay. Let go. I’ll tell you some things.”
“I’m happy to hear them like this.”
A slight smile pulled at her mouth. “I’m sure, but it’s rather hard . . .” Rolling her eyes at his look, she struck his shoulder, none too gently. “Don’t be obvious. Difficult to think. You know vampire appetites well enough by now. As long as you shove that great thing against me, all I’ll be able to think about is taking you down on the sand and raping you. Wouldn’t the matrons strolling about with their kiddies just love that?”
He loosened the whip, recoiled it. “I’m sorry, my lady. But you do act like a spoiled brat sometimes. No offense.”
“Why would that offend me, coming from a man less than a quarter of my age?” She bared her teeth in a smile. Then at his expectant look, she gave an exaggerated petulant sigh that made his lips twist, even as she moved up onto the dry sand and sat down. She bent her legs before her, smoothing the skirt as he dropped down next to her, resting on an elbow and hip.
“You’re naive, to boot,” he continued.
“And how did you come to that conclusion?”
“Well, you offered me the job of station manager based on one night with my cock.” She gave him a severe look. “That’s offensive enough I might withdraw the offer. And have the blood squeezed out of your heart again. I had my men ask about you thoroughly, bushman, before I left that note. I was informed by anyone who knew you at Elle’s that you were no sundowner, the type who drifts about, doing as little work as possible and scrounging up free handouts. Instead, they were told you knew the bush better than most, could live off of it for months at a time. When you needed a bit of quid, you were a better than fair ringer. In fact, one man even informed me you’re a bonza shearer. A gun shearer, he called you. Which, if I remember correctly amid all my spoiled self-absorption, means you’d be good to have around on a sheep station.” She lifted a brow as his jaw flexed. “Not as dumb as I look, am I? And from our one night together, I did manage to accumulate a few sound impressions. Like that you’re the sort a woman can trust at her back. Plus, you say very little, but you see a great deal.
That’s tremendously useful to me. So stop being cranky, Dad, and I’ll tell you a few things about vampires you don’t know.” He gave her a gimlet look, but inclined his head. “I’m all ears.”
“Actually, from my perspective, there’s a different organ that holds that distinction.”
“Now who’s being obvious?” He tugged a lock of her hair. “I’m listening, love. The more I know about you, the better chance I actually have to guard your back.”
She inclined her head, giving him that, then directed her gaze out to the water, the sliver of moonlight creating a jagged silver track on it toward shore that reflected in her eyes. “Vampires are attracted to weakness and fear, like all predators are to wounded animals. Being overly cautious is a similar type of beacon to them. I won’t live my life like that. I don’t want to be part of all these politics, but if I have to be, it’s going to be on my terms, damn it.” When he would have responded, she shook her head. “Dev, I know you haven’t been thinking it, but I want to make sure you know I didn’t make you my third-mark servant to save myself the inconvenience and vulnerability of being marked by Ruskin. He was boxing me in a corner that day, testing me. I just about failed that test, when he threatened outright to kill you. But if I had let him mark me to spare you, a human, I would be admitting I valued my freedom over your life, which . . .”