Blood Price - By Tanya Huff Page 0,39

I was born of two mortal parents."

He had never seen her in daylight. He had never seen her eat or drink. She possessed strength far beyond her sex or size. But she received the sacraments and she filled his nights with glory. "Born," his voice had almost returned to normal, "when?"

"Thirteen twenty-seven, the year that Edward the Third came to the throne. Your grandfather's grandfather had not yet been conceived."

It wasn't hard to think of her as an ageless beauty, forever unchanging down through the centuries. From there, it wasn't hard to believe the rest.

Vampire.

She saw the acceptance on his face and spread her arms wide. The loose robe she wore dropped to the floor and she allowed him to look away now that she was sure he would not. "Will you banish me?" she asked softly, casting the net of her beauty over him. "Will you give me to the pyre? Or will you have the strength to love me and be loved in return?"

The firelight threw her shadow against the tapestries on the wall. Angel or demon, Henry didn't really care. He was hers and if that damned his soul to hell so be it.

He opened his arms in answer.

As she buried herself in his embrace, he pressed his lips against the scented ebony of her hair and whispered, "Why have you never fed from me?"

"But I have. I do."

He frowned. "I've never borne your mark upon my throat... "

"Throats are too public." He could feel her smile against his chest. "And your throat is not the only part of your body I have put my mouth against."

Even as he reddened, she slid down to prove her point and somehow, knowing that she fed as she pleasured him lifted him to such heights that he thought he could not bear the ecstasy. Hell would be worth it.

"This was your idea, wasn't it?" The Duke of Norfolk inclined his head. His eyes were sunk in shadow and the deep lines that bracketed his mouth had not been there a month before. "Yes," he admitted heavily, "but it is for your own good, Henry."

"My own good?" Henry gave a bitter bark of laughter. "For your good more like. It does move you that much closer to the throne." He saw the older man wince and was glad. He didn't really believe Norfolk used him to get closer to the throne; the duke had proven his friendship any number of times, but Henry had just come from a painful interview with his father and he wanted to lash out.

"You will wed Mary, Norfolk's daughter, before the end of this month. You will spend Christmas with the Court and then you will retire to your estates at Richmond and you will never go to Sheriffhuton again.

Norfolk sighed and laid a weary hand on Henry's shoulder. His own interview with the young duke's father had been anything but pleasant. "What he does not know, he suspects; I offered this as your only way out."

Henry shook the hand free. Never to go to Sheriffhuton again. Never to see her again. Never to hear her laugh or feel her touch. Never to touch her in return. He clenched his teeth on the howl that threatened to break free. "You don't understand," he growled out instead, and strode off down the corridor before the tears he could feel building shamed him.

"Christina!" He ran forward, threw himself to his knees, and buried his head in her lap. For a time, the world became the touch of her hands and the sound of her voice. When at last he had the strength to pull away, it was only far enough to see her face. "What are you doing here? Father and Norfolk, at least, suspect and if they find you... "

She stroked cool fingers across his brow. "They won't find me. I have a safe haven for the daylight hours and we will not have so many nights together that they will discover us." She paused and cupped his cheek in her palm. "I am going away, but I could not leave without saying good-bye."

"Going away?" Henry repeated stupidly.

She nodded, her unbound hair falling forward. "It has become too dangerous for me in England."

"But where... "

"France, I think. For now."

He caught up her hands in both of his. "Take me with you. I cannot live without you."

A wry smile curved her lips. "You cannot exactly live with me," she reminded him.

"Live, die, unlive, undie." He leapt to his