of contact with a man for so very long. It would have only caused complications in her life. It seemed her abstinence had come back to haunt her with a vengeance.
She had been prepared for violence. For a battle. For blood drinkers. She had, like an idiot, not been prepared for the warfare they might wage on her in other ways. She had fallen to the incubus. He had ravished her body, and she remembered begging for more.
Am I truly so depraved?
Something smelled divine. Something warm, wonderful, and sweet was calling her away from her troubled thoughts. She snuggled closer to it instinctively, wanting to find shelter from her guilt. Whatever was beneath her let out a hum of appreciation, and she froze.
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
9
The sound of his voice ran up Bella’s spine like fingers. Sultry and smooth. She jumped up, tripped, staggered, and fell onto something far less welcoming and hard.
Wild-eyed, she looked around to try to understand what had happened. She was lying on a cold stone floor; that much she figured out rather immediately. It was quite alarming due to another fact—she was entirely naked!
Something was twisted around her ankles. It was a blanket made of the pelt of some dead animal. She snatched it up quickly and covered herself.
“Funny creatures, you mortals are. Modesty before safety? How does that make any sense at all?” A voice chuckled. “Especially after what we’ve already done. And done again. And done some more.”
Finding the source, she was without words. He—the incubus Mordecai—was spread out on a bed. She must have fallen from it. The idea of having been sleeping so blissfully in his arms made her cheeks burst into flame.
She blushed also because he too was completely nude. She had robbed him of what had been covering them both. He was on full display. Full display.
She looked away sheepishly.
He laughed. “You take your eyes off your enemy? Why? Is the sight of how much I desire you so troubling that you would rather be vulnerable to attack?” She heard him shift, and she saw out of the corner of her eye that he was lying down fully on the bed, sprawled out like some great cat. “I am not going to hurt you. I promised you that, and I meant it. I don’t lie as a point of pride.”
“You’re an incubus. You feed on—on—” she stammered uselessly. She couldn’t even say it.
“On lust? On fucking? Yes. I do. Do you feel drained? Do you feel out of sorts? Do you even feel sore?”
No. She didn’t feel any of those things. And seeing as she now could distinctly remember him entering a part of her body that no man should have any natural inclination to enter, she moaned in dismay and curled up into a ball, burying her head in her hands.
“And, trust me, you should be sore after what we’ve done.”
She remembered begging for it. He was controlling me! But why did it feel as though he had only pushed her down that hill? Just the memory of what he had done made her shiver—and it was not in disgust. She wanted to hide from it all to avoid it.
“Don’t make that face. I know that face. It’s regret. I would love to take it away from you, but I won’t. I can’t without making you more upset later.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not influencing you right now. I won’t. Not ever again.” Mordecai rolled over onto his stomach, and only then did she find the bravery to look up at him. He was sitting with his arms folded and his chin on his wrists. He was smiling at her dreamily. “I’ve freed you from my influence.”
“But…why? I don’t understand. I’m your enemy.”
“No, you’re not. You’re anything but my enemy, sweetheart.”
“You serve the vampire.”
Mordecai shrugged. “He isn’t your enemy either. You made him that way, not him.”
“I don’t understand…”
“He gave you three the chance to stop all this. All you had to do was give up the young mortal empath, and all those lives would be spared. It was your zealous hatred that caused this. It could’ve been avoided.”
“I…it was Alfonzo’s choice, not mine.”
“You’re his servant, then?”
“No!”
“Mmhm.”
“Does Dracula never command you to do anything you disagree with?”
“Oh, all the time. And I voice my concern. And I am his servant. You’re proving my point.”
“No. I’m not Alfonzo’s servant. I’m not his slave, or his—his anything. He’s our leader.”
“But you do everything he says. And when we gave you the chance