Okay, they really need to hurry this shit up, I thought. Because I wasn’t going to—
“And now I find myself faced with a dilemma,” the consul said quickly. “On the one hand, I have a creature whom I have been assured is the equivalent of a first-level master, who was sired by a trusted counselor, and who has useful connections to our allies among the fey. On the other, I have a number of first-level masters who did nothing while she fought and bled and almost died for us. And between them,”—she made an elegant gesture with a long brown hand—“I have the last Senate seat.”
I’d heard the phrase “You could have heard a pin drop” many times. But I’d never really understood what it meant. Until now.
The entire room, which must have held a couple thousand, at the least, went suddenly, deathly quiet. And nobody does quiet like a vampire. Not a breath was exhaled, except for my labored ones. Not a piece of clothing rustled, except for the almost inaudible swish, swish of my hem brushing the floor as I swayed slightly from side to side. Not a foot scraped the ground, except for my heels, as I f
ought to stay upright.
And to figure out what was going on, because clearly now, I was hallucinat—
“After careful consideration of the fact that we are at war, and that, in wartime, loyalty, ability and courage are more to be prized than all other factors—”
And that was as far as she got. The room erupted furiously, and the wash of sound and thought hit me like a fist, causing my already tenuous grip on the upright position to wobble. I saw Louis-Cesare rise from his chair, saw Mircea lean forward. But nobody knew how to grab attention like the consul, who cut through the bedlam with just seven words.
“Come and take your seat, Lady Dorina.”
And okay, I thought. That’s it. If I was going to hallucinate, I might as well do it on my damned face.
So I did.
I woke to darkness puddling in the corners of a high ceiling, a low-banked fire chasing shadows along the wall, and a naked vampire in my bed.
One of these things is not like the others, I thought vaguely, and swam slowly back to consciousness.
I was naked, too—of course—but for once, I didn’t mind. I did kind of mind the weird, fuzzy, strung-out feeling I was having, though. So I just lay there for a few minutes, too groggy to do much more than stare at the elaborate molding on the ceiling.
After a while, it got a little better, and I rolled over and watched the vampire instead. He was more interesting—a lot more, I decided, as the firelight danced over fascinating hills and valleys, hard muscle and soft creases, and picked out fiery glints in the dark mass of his hair. And in the brilliant blue eyes that slowly opened to blink at me.
An arm reached out and tugged me over, and I went grinning, sprawling on top of him bonelessly. And pleased to discover that, yes indeedy, he wasn’t wearing anything except a satiny comforter. Of course, that was kind of a problem, too, because silken sheets and satin bedding and sleek vampire turn out to be kind of slippery. I started to slide off the other side, but hands came up to grip my waist. I smiled sloppily at their owner.
He smiled back for a second, a brief, sardonic twist of his lips, until I decided to sit up. And then the smile faded, replaced with something else as his eyes slid down my body. That glance was warmer than the fireplace heat on my back, although I guess my body didn’t think so, judging by the way certain things perked right up.
He closed his eyes in what looked like pain.
I bent over him. “Howdy,” I said, feeling friendly.
Those sapphire eyes fluttered open again. No man should have lashes that long, I thought, or a bottom lip that tempting. It was just wrong. It deserved to be punished, to be bitten…really…hard.…
I finally noticed that it wasn’t getting any closer, despite my best efforts. Maybe because his hands had come up from my waist to my biceps, holding me in place. I tried pushing against them, which did no good at all. And for some reason I found that just really sexy.
Of course, that pretty much applied to everything right now.
“Dory.” He swallowed as I writhed around on top of him, sending his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously. I had a sudden strong urge to bite it, too.
“Hmm?”
“We can’t.”
“Can’t what?” I was still watching that little bump, I don’t know why. His pecs were works of art, the washboard stomach rising and falling gently under my ass was completely lickable, and then there were those lips. They were supermodel lips, Renaissance angel lips, and I fully intended to get around to them. But right now, they weren’t what I wanted.
“I’m going to bite you,” I warned him, and felt him groan.
“Do that again,” I said because it had resonated in interesting places.
“We can’t,” he repeated instead.
I suddenly realized what he was talking about, and laughed. “Wanna bet?” I challenged, and wiggled back a few inches.