Taken by a Vampire (Vampire Queen) - By Joey W. Hill Page 0,87

please him. But only to please him?

“It’s what I am,” she whispered. “What I want.”

“What?” She would never know the effort it took him to sound impassive, but Niall finally picked up on it. He saw the shift to understanding in the man’s eyes. A good thing, because otherwise he’d have to put the Scot on the ground to keep Niall from pummeling him. Which would definitely detract from what Evan was trying to accomplish.

“I’ve always . . . I just wanted to serve a vampire . . . one who . . . one who . . . would value me.”

“Value you. For your origami skills? Your trained sexual skills? The way you keep your hair nice and shiny?”

She swallowed, got paler. “I didn’t . . . I was taught certain things, but Stephen wanted a virgin. I learned by watching, doing, emulating. He . . .”

She didn’t say it, but Evan saw it in her mind. He let Niall have the information as well, saw his lips tighten with helpless anger. Stephen had taken her virginity with careless indifference. Fucked her, pulled out, made sure of the blood, then told her to clean herself up and come down for dinner while he went to handle a phone call. A sixteen-year-old girl who’d never even been kissed. She’d been a small ball on the bed for a few moments, passing her fingers over that bloody patch. She’d thought it would matter more to him. But then the shift had happened, the training kicked in, locked into place. Her feelings weren’t important. They’d never be important, and that was okay. Humans were inferior to vampires, yet also vital. Service was what was important.

Though he didn’t show it on his face, Evan shared Niall’s murderous thoughts toward Stephen. It also made him gentle his tone. Somewhat.

“But you felt empty. Why did you feel empty, Alanna?”

Niall picked up his cue now, keeping his voice low, neutral. “Why did that book you read today make you feel different?”

She flushed. She’d probably think Niall had made that connection from Evan’s mind, but he hadn’t. It was one of the ways Niall had taken him by surprise, in the beginning. The Scot might act dense as a pile of bricks, but he was a deep well, fed by a whole network of underground water sources.

“I thought . . .” She was still struggling, and Evan saw Niall fighting the desire to reach out to her. But she needed the mental thrashing room. “I wanted so much to serve a vampire, and I thought . . . Please . . . let me go back to the house. I’ll work on the slides.”

“You’ll stay here and answer my questions,” Evan said. “My will is everything, right?”

Anguish gripped her expression, so sharp and painful it was as if she’d been skewered by knives. “Please, I’m begging you. Don’t.”

“You expected to be valued, but you expected more than that, from your own feelings. There’s another word you’re seeking, Alanna.”

She was so pale. Her fingers were trembling, her whole body.

Evan . . .

“Tell me.” He spoke sharply. The answer was there, but she was under siege, a hurricane happening in her head, her soul.

“Please don’t make me say it. It’s wrong to say it.”

“You thought if you served him with everything you are, you’d love him. And he’d at least care about you. But he didn’t do anything worth loving, and he never cared for you.”

“If that was what I thought, it was wrong, and selfish. The point of serving is serving, giving your Master everything he needs. Your needs and wants are unimportant. It’s not wrong to love your Master, but that love should never expect anything in return. That’s why I failed. Why I betrayed Stephen. I did it because I thought he owed me something. And that’s unforgivable.”

“Your twin’s death had no significance in the face of your Master’s every whim. You couldn’t accept that, and that’s why you failed.”

“Yes.” But the word came out like a serrated blade from her flesh.

She still had no color in her face. The shaking was past her ability to control it. Niall had left them, disappearing into the cabin. She continued to stand there, her hands at her sides, her carriage erect and open. Accessible. She was so cold, her nipples stabbed through the T-shirt, and the skirt clung to her like a second skin. Her straight stance put all that on full display. Even when her emotions were