The Vampire Queen's Servant(23)

The original works of art in the room mocked her with their realism, their value, as she spouted nonsense she was sure Thomas had gone over with him a hundred times.

"I'll provide you an allowance to do whatever you need to serve my household, and you'll let me know whenever more needs to be transferred into that account. I check the books once a week. You'll be given a salary for your own needs, of course."

He nodded. "Do you want me to help you bathe, my lady?"

She blinked. She'd fired words at him intended to point out his inferior status and he'd rebounded with something that reminded her of the intimacy she could require from him. That he offered freely and so temptingly.

"No," she snapped. "Go to the kitchen. Do as I've asked."

Pivoting on her heel, she strode to the bath and closed the door, turning the key in the lock with a decisive, unmistakable click.

Because the first mark told her where he was, she knew he stood in the same spot several minutes before leaving to do her bidding. When she turned her gaze to the tub, her forehead still pressed against the cool wood of the door, she saw steam rising from it. It brought her the scent of lavender and rose petals, telling her he'd sprinkled oils for both in the water. He'd also placed a vase of flowers on the foot of the tub, artfully strewing a handful of the mixed petals down along the damp side of the porcelain. It created a pale pink and lavender-colored path that made her dizzy, much like the Van Gogh. In the rising steam she could imagine herself dancing with Jacob, twined around him, immersed in him.

Thomas, who the hell is this human?



* * *





Chapter Fifteen





"Why would vampires want food? Or care about it at all?" Jacob asked.

The butcher-block kitchen table had more space than the center island, but Jacob discovered Bran tended to get bored and plant his huge front paws on the table's surface, dragging everything on it to the floor. He wondered if Lyssa had ever had the same urge he had, to tie the animal's ears in a painful knot. Or ended up as he had, in a wrestling match with Bran for one of the cookbooks, laughing at them both. It turned out the island was more comfortable for Jacob's long legs anyway, and easier to circle and examine the various items he'd spread out over the counter.

Catering catalogs, cookbooks, several legal pads and pens. When she'd joined him about an hour ago, he'd seen her glance over the three proposed menus he'd already laid out, including appetizers, salad, soup, main course, dessert, and wine selections. He'd made notes in the margins on other household issues. The dogs' schedule, where the switchboxes were, flashlights, a list of things he hadn't found he might have to get at the hardware store. He hadn't let her curt dismissal rattle him, hadn't spent his time sulking. He hoped that had impressed her. Or maybe annoyed her just a little bit. He couldn't tell, but it cheered him to imagine either one.

"Vampires like food," she responded. "We can't digest it in great quantities, but we love the taste, the aroma. The main purpose of having a five-course meal is to delight them with different flavors and scents."

"So why don't we choose a mixture of flavors they haven't experienced before, together with things they have, so they can enjoy the new and familiar together? Like fresh brownies, with a side of raspberry cream sauce. A salad made out of fresh produce from local farmers. Nothing smells as good as a garden tomato that's never seen the inside of a refrigerator." He made a notation. In the corner of his eye, he noted she appeared fascinated by the way he held a pen. He was left-handed, so he had an awkward scribble barely legible to himself. "Will there be any politics to deal with?" he asked.

"Are we both breathing?"

Jacob glanced up in time to see a look of amusement cross her face. It helped ease the ball of apprehension he was carrying in his gut, anticipating that any moment she was going to do something else to test his limits. The way he felt around her was worse than it had been with his high school history teacher who'd loved surprise pop quizzes. In the microcosm of totalitarianism that could only exist in a classroom, to fail on even one of the tests would be 25 percent of the student's grade for the semester. A passing grade on the test was simply discarded, proof he was paying attention. He was finding some definite correlations between Lyssa and Mr. Winstead.

He'd had mixed feelings about the way she'd shut the door in his face. Thomas had helped her far more with her morning toilette than she'd allowed him to do this morning. Her dismissal rankled, but on the other hand, he was realizing how difficult it was to maintain self-control around a woman who kept him in a near constant state of wanting. She looked at him one moment with naked desire glittering in her eyes, her body trembling at his briefest touch. A blink later, she shoved him away, shut him out. Now here she was in a pair of tailored brown slacks and a soft cream sweater he supposed she thought of as simple and demure. Still, he longed to close his hands over the band of the sweater on her hips, pet the curve of her breasts. She'd pulled her dark, fine hair back with a barrette so it lay on her shoulder blades. Spun silk he'd had the pleasure of touching, so just looking at it made his fingers itch.

"The purpose of the dinner is to mark a new vampire for my Region. Thomas explained the structure of our holdings, I assume?"

He had. The vampire world was divided into Regions, groupings of territories won through battle or influence during the formation of the current vampire society, before the Council had been appointed. The heads of those Regions were known as Master vampires. A vampire who accumulated enough wealth and influence might be awarded an overlord title and a territory inside a Region by the Council, preferably with the consent of the Region Master. Vampires lacking the power or experience to be an overlord applied to reside in a territory. The overlord then put them in charge of different business interests. In return the vampires gave the overlord a percentage for his protection and backing. The overlords served the Region Master.

Jacob remembered asking Thomas if it was similar to racketeering. He'd earned an affectionate smack with the book the monk was reading, Thomas knowing when his student was yanking his chain. Understanding the class-conscious formality of vampire society, Jacob thought it made perfect sense they'd chosen a feudal structure.

She was the southern Master. The southern states were hers, everything from Virginia to Texas.

At Jacob's nod, Lyssa continued. "Brian Morris, my guest of honor, is a scientist. He's a born vampire who's petitioned his Regional Master, who also happens to be his natural father, to immigrate to the States to continue his research. The facility is in my Alabama territory. The overlord of that territory is actually a couple, Lady Tara and Lord Richard. They'll be invited to the dinner to witness the marking and accept responsibility for his protection."

"What would have happened if he'd moved out of his territory without permission?"

She paged through one of the cookbooks, stopping on a lasagna dish. As she followed the lines of text with the unpolished finger, it reminded him he owed her a manicure.

"Well, since he's the Region Master's son, it would have been handled a bit differently. However, in a normal case, you either serve a vampire or you're a loner, and vampires don't tolerate a loner. The point of the system we have is to ensure protection, prosperity, secrecy and a support network for our activities. Any vampire in a territory may appeal a decision to the Region Master if they feel they're being treated unfairly by the overlord. There are different management styles," she acknowledged with a tilt of her head. "Some are more brutal than others. If a vampire can't find resolution, he or she might seek refuge in another Region, but if that Master isn't willing to offer asylum, the vampire would be considered rogue. Welcome in no territory, his original Master or overlord would quickly catch up to him. The most common punishment is interring him in a sealed container as punishment or warning to others."

"But you said you don't need air."

She nodded. "A vampire can live that way for eternity, with great suffering. Most vampires have strengths of value, so the Master or overlord would likely only prolong the lesson a month or two."

"Have you…" Jacob swallowed, wondering if he really wanted an answer to the question.

When she met his gaze, he noticed she'd chosen tiny gold hoop earrings and small diamond studs for her ears. With their healing abilities, vampires pierced their ears anew each time they chose to wear them. Other than his knowledge of that fact, to all appearances she could have been standing at the head of a board meeting, discussing a change in stock prices. "How would it make you feel about me? If those who have displeased me are screaming hopelessly underground for a release that will only come at my pleasure?"

Jacob sat back, crossed his arms. "You've never done it, my lady. Thomas would never have served you if you had such cruelty."

"A lot can happen between two people on a journey through life together." Her dark eyes dwelled on his face, intent and unwavering. "By the end, there were many things Thomas did without thought he wouldn't have considered before we met. In my world, it's a delicate balance, fear and respect, obedience and free will. No vampire respects compassion if he interprets it as weakness. If you find the right balance, you'll command the loyalty of those in your territory. If you're too brutal, you push them into hatred. That is not my way."