She laid her hands against his chest, angling her head so he could have easier access to the vulnerable line of her throat.
This was Caine. And she trusted him without question.
“I’m not sure what that means,” she breathed.
He went rigid at her unspoken gesture of capitulation, his fingers biting into the curve of her hip before he was abruptly jerking away, a flush staining his cheeks.
“Neither do I, and I intend to keep it that way,” he muttered, turning to head across the gaudy carpet of the casino.
“Caine?” She hurried after him, unsure what she’d done wrong. “What is it?”
“Dinner.” His step never slowed as he grimly headed for the nearby buffet.
“You’re hungry?”
“Christ, you have no freaking idea.”
Gaius’s lair in the Louisiana wetlands
The Immortal Ones were the stuff of legends.
Centuries ago a clan of vampires had chosen to leave the world behind. Using Nefri’s powerful medallion, they’d traveled through the Veil to another dimension where they were secluded from the weaknesses that plagued the less civilized.
Beyond the Veil there was no hunger, no lust, no need for sleep.
Instead, they devoted their nights to studying among the endless libraries or cultivating the gardens that managed to grow despite the lack of sunlight. And their days to meditation.
But it was the rumors that they retained the old powers lost to the vampires of this world that made them feared.
Most of the gossip was exaggerated, but there were still some forgotten talents that could be mastered.
Which, of course, was precisely why Gaius had petitioned to travel through the Veil after the death of his mate. Although most had assumed that he’d been seeking the peace to be found on the other side.
As if meditation and flowers could ease the brutal loss of his beloved Dara.
Stupid bastards.
Forced to stand and watch his mate being burned at the stake by a rival vampire clan, Gaius would have walked straight into the sun if it hadn’t been for the Dark Lord.
Even as Dara had burned, the powerful deity had appeared as a misty shadow at his side, whispering promises of Dara’s return from the grave, all for the small price of Gaius’s soul.
It was a trade-off that Gaius had made without a second thought. The return of his mate? Hell yes, he’d sell his soul a dozen times over. And it was a decision he hadn’t regretted, despite the long years of seclusion beyond the Veil.
Obeying his new lord, he’d avoided attracting attention while learning the skill of shape-shifting and eventually using the medallion he’d found hidden beneath one of the fountains to mist-walk. It was the latter skill that had allowed him to escape undetected from the Veil to return to the world he’d left behind so many years ago.
Briefly disoriented by his abrupt journey, Gaius leaned against the nearest cypress tree and struggled to regain his balance.
He felt . . .
Yeah. That was it.
He felt all the things that were forgotten on the other side.
The weight of his slender body covered by a simple robe. The summer breeze that stirred the dark strands of his hair, which he wore short and slicked from his face. Startled, he lifted a hand to touch the chilled skin of his cheek before trailing down the strong thrust of his nose, which bore the proud stamp of his days as a Roman general. Most creatures would find him handsome, he vaguely recalled, although his dark eyes remained as bleak and lifeless as the day he’d watched Dara die.
And then he was struck by less desirable sensations.
With a frown his fingers shifted to the fangs that suddenly throbbed at the distant scent of human blood.