But we were talking—about some things. About us. But there was one conversation we continued not to have. One topic that was till off limits.
Jonathan.
Not that I hadn’t tried. But nothing made Louis-Cesare close down faster, or clam up more completely. Maybe because he was the only creature in living memory that had made my husband feel weak. Powerless. Afraid.
A first-level master rarely experienced those emotions. He’d not only left behind human weakness, but had also forgotten what it was like to be a lower-level vampire, ordered about by the god-like beings on top of the heap. And that was truer for Louis-Cesare than for most, as even among first-level vamps, he was unusually strong.
He had been a dueling champion for the European consul, Anthony, for centuries, helping to support that crumbling wreck of a court. Because as lax as Anthony was, he was far better of a ruler than some who might have replaced him. And at the same time that Louis-Cesare was almost singlehandedly propping up a failing consul, he was also keeping another first-level master in thrall.
That was right: Louis-Cesare had kept one of the most powerful vampires on the planet under his control, bending him to his will in order to save the life of a woman he despised. But he had felt responsible for her, and he was honorable to a fault. So, he had expended a huge amount of power to make sure that she was safe.
Yet Jonathan had found a way to bring that same man to his knees, over and over and over again. Draining him of power and thereby of life, and in doing so, forcing Louis-Cesare’s family to have to scramble to find enough energy to support their master, feeding him everything they had through the blood bond to sustain him. Only to have most of it go to his tormentor.
Jonathan hadn’t merely victimized Louis-Cesare; he’d held the whole damned clan for ransom. It was a master vampire’s worst nightmare, that he would not be able to protect his family. So, yes, he did know what I was feeling.
The tension had slowly leaked out of him while we stood there, until he was leaning back against me. I put my arms around him from behind, dragging the fur along with them so that it covered us both. With his regal bearing, long, loose hair and fur draped form, he could have been a king from another time, or a Viking warrior lost on a raid and washed up on Egyptian shores.
But I’d seen plenty of beautiful bodies through the years; I’d seen far fewer beautiful souls.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
One of those large, yet elegant hands covered mine. “You mean everything to me,” he said hoarsely. “Everything. Promise me—”
“I promise,” I murmured, my cheek flat against the warmth of his back. “I won’t do anything tonight.”
I felt a little more tension melt out of his spine. “I swear to you, if they live, I will find those who hurt you. And wreak a bloody vengeance on our enemies.”
Our enemies, I thought, a little startled. But, from a vampire perspective, they were, weren’t they? Louis-Cesare and I were married, meaning that my rag tag crew also belonged to him now. And anyone who hurt one of his . . .
I smiled against his back. “I know.”
He turned and swept me up in a kiss, so sudden that it took my breath away, although it probably would have done that anyway. Louis-Cesare knew how to kiss, but tonight . . . tonight there was something fierce in the way he gripped me, his fingers digging into the skin of my back and upper thigh. Something possessive in the way he picked me up and carried me back to the bed. Something savage in the way his lips plundered mine, and yet also shook slightly against my skin.
I was part of his family, and he’d almost lost me, I realized. He was trying to comfort me, while feeling the same way that I did. He wanted to go after them, too, the ones who had hurt me, wanted it desperately. But he would put that need on hold to make sure that I was all right.
Tears wet my cheeks, and I couldn’t tell if they were his or mine. If anyone ever asks why I married him, I thought. This, this is what I’ll tell them.
Chapter Five
Dory, Cairo
Louis-Cesare was usually a tender lover, but not tonight. That was all right; I didn’t want