And I knew why. I knew what tricks Darius played. How many times he’d written and rewritten what memories this female possessed, how many times he’d altered her and coerced the ugliest parts of her psyche to come forth.
And even those parts were beautiful.
She was a creature of his twisted design, as selfish and proud and cruel as he could make her. But even he could only push so far. In the wreckage of his mental machinations, under all of it, Jade was still Jade.
My Jade.
Who for the first time in almost a century, I got to have for the night. To have, not to guard. Mine until sunrise. All because I understood the games and she did not.
“You may feed from me.” I straightened, imperious and imposing as those wet eyes measured my stature. “Or I can summon another.”
Without thinking, without understanding the true reason why she picked cruelty, why she chose exactly as I knew she would, Jade named, “The fresh-changed male from the hall. I want him.”
What she wanted, deep down, was to irritate me. Because no matter what her father stripped from her memories, she knew. Somewhere in that mess, she knew she was mine, and desired a display of my regard.
Spying from the shadows, I’d seen the way she’d salivated for the male. And yes, I was envious—black blood boiling jealousy I’d never expose. Not where the Devil might see.
Here minds must be kept blank. Here one never lied.
After all, the truth could conceal far more than any subterfuge. Jade was too free with her feelings, those fleeting childlike things.
Even that I loved about her.
My blind little mistress still had her panties caught around her thighs, I could almost see a sliver of her beautiful cunt. I certainly could smell it.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Her whip-like snap, her embarrassment and anger… even after all her lovers, she was still so innocent.
“You’re beautiful, Jade.” Especially when she blushed.
Finding her outrage and pulling it about the sad, frightened, and cracked parts of herself, she filled weakness with rage. Glue settled into a damaged spirit, my princess lashing out. “I hate you.”
“That can’t be helped.”
She hated when my voice remained even in the face of her anger. Hated it. But what was I supposed to do, quote sonnets to her? Sing? I was forbidden from courting her. I was forbidden from wooing her.
Darius knew.
He’d seen it when I’d first set eyes on the infant, and he’d laughed. A pealing, cackle of evil mirth I could still hear echo between my ears. The honor of guarding his offspring, the demotion from favored assassin, assured I’d know torment every waking hour. Forced to watch her fall in love, forced to see her fucked by multitudes. Forced to watch her father use her in the most horrendous of ways.
I had made mistakes over the last century, and she had paid for them. But I am also the only reason she still breathed.
My aching cock had been in her for two minutes, forty-seven seconds. I could have come on that first thrust… but it would have only made her sad.
My starving cock had been in her after a century of longing, and it had been done to punish us both.
I wouldn’t fail her again, but I was also not giving up my night of her company. “Come now, Jade.” Helping her stand, I dared much. Lace in my fingers, I pulled up her panties, my features perfectly controlled.
Hers… were not.
Batting my hands away, she pulled down her skirt and put as much distance between us as she could. Straight to a side table bearing a decanter of her favorite wine she went—difficult to acquire wine I had procured for her and ordered to be available in her rooms. It was difficult to acquire because I had bought every last bottle I could find the very night I’d first seen her try it. Three cellars in this city were packed with cases of the rare vintage, doled out by me for her without her knowledge.
Red fluid hit her tongue, that moment of recognition, the flicker of appreciation when the flavor profile worked its magic. It calmed her, just enough.
These little things. These small moments I gave her…
“Repair your appearance before Lawrence arrives. Should you let him live, you don’t want there to be talk.”
Exasperated, she kept her back to me yet snarled over her shoulder. “I’m not going to kill him.”
That remained to be seen.
She fed like the demon who’d bred her. Not always, and the lad had a greater chance of survival considering she’d already had a taste of me. But when she starved, as she was wont to do, she was as messy as a freshly-turned babe.
Pride, alluring and adorable, Jade reeked of it as she smoothed her hair. Silver handled brush I had obtained from a long-dead Russian noble in her hand, ran through jet locks. All that raven glory was caught up again, tied back, beautiful, vulnerable throat on display. Almost every trinket in this room, every last treasure, an unknown gift from me.