Taken by a Vampire (Vampire Queen) - By Joey W. Hill Page 0,10

InhServ knife, both required to stay sharp. The InhServ discipline protocols would serve that purpose. Punishment, deprivation, reflection.

She’d already packed her scourge, else she would have beaten herself bloody, but there were other ways to remind herself. Rising, she found the small bag of uncooked rice she’d left in the nightstand. Putting a towel on the floor, she spread the rice over it and then knelt. It dug into her knees, her calves. She had an hour before Niall was scheduled to come get her. The pain would drive away anything but what was required of her.

Niall paused briefly on the Inherited Servants’ corridor. The small rooms reminded him of monk’s cells, each one with the bare minimum in furnishings, no pictures on the walls. It was a wholly different servant culture he knew little about, for all his three centuries as a vampire’s servant. Evan didn’t really run in the highbrow circles that included InhServs.

He did know they were an elite guard within the servant ranks, with a severe code when one of them fell short. Kind of overkill, to his way of thinking, given that most vampires were swift to hand out punishment when their servants erred. It further pissed him off to learn from the housekeeping staff that the rest of the InhServs had shunned her since her betrayal of Stephen. Even so, it was still unexpected to see the red S sign on her door. Painted in blood, a scent he recognized right off.

He remembered her writhing in pain, her eyes locked on nightmares no one else could see. Stephen had inflicted the torment on her to protect his worthless hide. Evan had taught him well enough to keep such thoughts to himself among other vampires, but it didn’t mean he’d take leave of his own code of right and wrong.

When he knocked, she called out to enter in a cultured voice, all soft and fine. He expected she had a bonny singing voice. She rose from the straight-backed chair where she’d been waiting for him behind one suitcase. The room was otherwise sterile, the bed made military-drum tight, the closet door open, showing it empty. She had her long, dark red hair clipped back, the strands falling all the way to her waist in a wealth of curls. He knew she had eyes dark and expressive as a deer’s, though of course they were lowered right now, the automatic deference she showed to everyone. She had the delicate fragility of a Fae sprite in her face, her willowy, beautiful body enhanced by the travel clothes of tailored brown skirt and formfitting buttercream sweater. The pair of heeled boots that came to just below her knee suited the chill Berlin weather.

He hadn’t seen her since they’d helped Lord Brian in his infirmary, so it was something to see her all put together like this, not sweating and out of her head, screaming and afraid. Brian said she’d stayed alive because she’d been commanded to do so. But Niall remembered the way her lips had curled back, revealing the rage inside the fear. Even if she wasn’t aware of it, there might be more to it than that.

Catching the scent of blood again, he narrowed his eyes. Before he zeroed in on the trash can, she explained, anticipating his question. “A punishment exercise. It broke the skin, but no worse than shaving cuts. You needn’t worry about the car seats.”

Oh, well, aye, that was my main concern. He held back the caustic response, remembering Evan’s admonition. Don’t mock her training. Inherited Servants are very different from servants that come to a vampire from . . . more random methods.

Evan had changed the subject then, because the memories associated with Niall’s “random” fate as his servant weren’t all pleasant, such that they both tended to leave that subject alone. More convenient for all concerned.

Get her here, and we’ll worry about the rest. That had been Evan’s primary directive. Time to get on with it, then.

She picked up the suitcase, but it was heavy for her, a reminder that the blocker gave her a human woman’s strength, not a third mark’s. In a world of fanged predators, it was a serious handicap. Humans connected with the vampire world were marked, not just to protect the secrets of that world, but to prevent a vampire’s mild flash of temper from breaking his servant’s neck.

“I’ll get that.”

“I’ll carry it.”

“Nae while I’m here.” When he closed his hand over hers, she stiffened