The Red Lily (Vampire Blood #2)(12)

       
         
       
        





Chapter Four

They sat on opposite sides of the small fire, neither having spoken for nearly thirty minutes. Sienna finished her meal of bread and cheese and brushed the crumbs from her skirt while she watched him. Nikolai busied himself sharpening one of the many knives he kept hidden in sheaths on his person. This dagger seemed to be his favorite-twelve inches long, two inches wide, and serrated on one side with wickedly sharp teeth. It was a beast of a blade. She marveled at the deft move of his muscular forearms and skilled hands working the knife against the whetstone.

Duchess had settled beside her on her belly, chin resting on her paws. Her mate, Luca, rested outside their circle, but Sienna saw his eyes glowing in the dark, blinking lazily. And she heard the brothers, Kai and Hugo, crisscrossing in the woods here and there. The four had been waiting for her when she stepped back into the Silvane Forest, as if they knew she would be leaving them for a while.

The thought of leaving the wood for longer than a few hours struck a cold fear through her body. As if parting from this place would be like losing a limb. And yet, Arabelle needed her. The Black Lily needed her. She couldn't allow her own fears to guide her in this matter. Her destiny lay beyond the safe haven of her home.

"Tonight will be your first speech in front of potential recruits," said Nikolai, still stroking the blade of his knife along the whetstone in a steady rhythm. "Have you considered what you will say?"

"Aye," she said, wrapping the bread loaf in paper and stuffing it into her bag. She glanced at him, wondering when he had fed last. Vampires needed to feed on average once a week, so she was told. Her gaze slid to his lips, wondering what his bite would feel like. She wondered what his elixir would feel like as well.

"Is it true that every vampire's elixir has a different effect on the bleeder?"

He stopped sliding his knife across the stone, his sharp gaze capturing her. The tension in his posture put her on alert, like the lamb catching the scent of the wolf on the wind.

"And why are you curious about such a thing?" he finally asked.

She shrugged and turned her attention to Duchess in an attempt at nonchalance, stroking a hand over her broad brow. The she-wolf blinked her golden eyes open, then closed them again. "No reason really. It was just something that Sergeant Volkov said. About his elixir being different."

"I know what Volkov said. I heard him." His voice was clipped and harsh.

"You were very far away. The sergeant didn't hear you hiding there. I'm surprised you could hear-"

"The older the vampire, the stronger he is, the more potent his power." He held her with his electric blue gaze. "In every possible way." 

The rough timbre of his voice made her stomach flip-flop. She returned her attention to him across the fire. "And how old are you, if I may ask?"

"You may," he replied with a tilted smile. "I am one hundred twenty-four."

The idea of being in the presence of a being over a hundred years older than her quickened her pulse. She had no idea. Compared to a human man, he looked no older than thirty. Though there was something about his eyes that spoke of intelligence and wisdom, the kind one acquired from long years of experience.

Gaze narrowing, he spoke in a low rumble. "Are you asking me about the elixir because you're curious what Volkov's would be like?"

She wondered what she said to make him so angry. "No! That man was detestable."

"More than that. His name means ‘wolf' and my guess is it suits him rather well."

Duchess let out a huff, raising her head. "Wolves are lovely creatures," Sienna protested with a soft pat behind Duchess's ear.

"Not all of them." He leaned forward, the flames flickering on his grave features. "Some are vicious, cruel, and bloodthirsty." He glanced at Duchess. "Excepting your hart wolves, of course." He pocketed the whetstone in his satchel and sheathed the knife in a harness that crossed his chest over his shirt. "So, if you think the man ‘detestable,' why ask about his elixir?" He pulled on his long coat, which covered the harness.

"You don't listen very well, lieutenant. I asked about vampire elixir, not Volkov." She shoved her canteen in her own small sack and stood, readying to go.

"Yes, it's true," he said with a sidelong glance. "Every elixir has a unique effect on the bleeder. Some experience euphoria or ecstasy, others numbness, or even fear."