The human ran a hand up the muscles of his back. He looked to his master for permission because that was what was expected. Arcuro nodded and gestured to the unoccupied couch.
“She did not know who I was at first.” Jared took a seat and pulled the woman into his lap. He intended for her to face Arcuro. Instead, she straddled him, her lips parted, her breaths excited, her lust scent permeating the air. “She is rebelling against her father.”
“Does she speak of him?” Arcuro asked.
“Occasionally.” The woman moved against him. He watched her face because it was an excuse not to watch Arcuro as the vampire stood and approached.
“Anything interesting?”
“He is overprotective.” The woman tilted her head and leaned closer, the soft skin of her neck inches from his mouth. But Jared could only focus on his master’s proximity, the call of his ancient blood.
“Lehr has transferred a large sum of money from an offshore account,” Arcuro said. “I want to know why.”
He must be cold, he must be detached, though neither would prevent what was coming, his descent into hell.
“Nora handles his finances,” Arcuro continued. “You will fuck the information out of her before the full moon rises, and then you will reject her. You will humiliate her. I want her so debased that she will not breathe a word of your relationship to her pack. Do you understand?”
“It is not a relationship.” He gripped the woman’s hips a little too hard. She stiffened, but he did not relax his hold.
Arcuro traced her jaw with a finger. “I’ve never tasted a naturally born shifter. They are treasured. Protected. If Lehr discovers you’re fucking her, he will petition for your head, but if she’s as much a princess as she seems, it won’t be difficult to shut her up.”
“I know how to devastate her,” Jared said, his hope and his soul disintegrating together. “It will be done.”
“Good.” Arcuro sat beside him on the couch and studied the woman on Jared’s lap. “You have not turned anyone in years.”
“I have not felt the need.”
“It’s not healthy, letting your clan grow stagnant. She would be a lovely addition.”
“Yes,” he said.
“You have not drunk from me in some time.”
Jared’s body flushed hard with need, and he turned his head to look at his master. Arcuro placed a hand on the woman’s back, urging her to move. She did, circling her hips. Jared knew what his master wanted—pleasure-spiked blood—but when the woman reached for his belt, he stilled her hands. “Nora will smell her on me.”
Arcuro sighed. “I guess we can’t have that. Pity.” His hand darted out, grabbing the collar of Jared’s shirt and ripping it open. His fangs pierced his neck an instant later, and Jared’s body jerked. He could not prevent the surge of bloodlust. The woman moaned at the sudden release of pheromones into the air, the gratified shuddering of his master’s aura, the mind-stuttering need permeating Jared’s. The woman ground against him while his master sucked and licked. Jared was his oldest scion, his blood the most Aged Arcuro could easily acquire.
Jared managed to hang on to his discipline for an entire minute. He would have been killed long ago if he had not had the self-control to keep himself from his master’s blood.
The woman kissed him. Jared almost bit and tore her lip. He refrained, letting her tongue delve into his mouth. Soon. Arcuro would end this hunger soon.
Another eternity passed before his master lifted his lips from Jared’s neck. He placed a wet, bloody kiss on the woman’s cheek, then guided her mouth to Jared’s still open wound.
“You are so very fortunate to drink from him. To be turned by him.” Arcuro petted the human’s hair. “Take your fill. He will take from you, and then we will gorge ourselves and celebrate.”
Arcuro returned to his seat on the opposite couch, and Jared gritted his teeth. He needed his master’s blood. Craved it. But he forced himself to sit there while the human who was not Nora sucked at his neck. Arcuro was in a cruel mood. He would not let Jared drink from him until Jared dropped to his knees and groveled.
21
Nora’s new town house was two thousand square feet of her own personal, private territory. It looked exactly like every other home on the street with an identical backyard, front door, and two-level floor plan. The windows weren’t thick enough to block the sounds of the city, which she much preferred to the chirping of crickets and hoots of owls. She could even walk to an upscale shopping center, to get groceries, or to relax at one of the two bars that were a twenty-minute stroll away.
Maybe Blake was right. Maybe she could be content here. Jared could stay without worry of a pack mate dropping by.
Outside, a car door shut. She let her mental shields crack enough to sense who it was, and by the time she opened her front door, Blake had reached her tiny porch, carrying a box.
“I didn’t ask for help.” She eased to the right in the hope that the wind might carry hers and Jared’s scents away.
“You’re welcome,” Blake said.
