Taken by a Vampire (Vampire Queen) - By Joey W. Hill Page 0,109

and guitar notes of “Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor, Niall gave it a disgusted look, hit the button to take it to the next selection, a more general rock tune. “Wiseass vampire. Oh, Evan wants ye to choose things for your daily two-hour deal. Skateboarding, macramé, beading, cookbooks, whatever.”

“I think you added the last one,” she said. “You want me to cook more.”

“Aye. Your cooking is far better than mine. Evan agrees.”

She smiled. “Do we have time to buy groceries? No offense to Henry, but there are things I can get in a city that he might not have.”

“We have time for that,” Niall decided. He shot her a teasing glance. “So what else are ye going to get? More romance stories?”

“Maybe a good spy thriller,” she said evenly.

“Pity,” he said. “I liked how the romance stirred ye up.” Reaching over, he stroked her hair away from her brow, passing his fingers through the ponytail she’d done so hastily. She leaned into the touch, quietly thrilled with such affection. When he took his hand away to adjust the music volume, she studied him. He had one knee comfortably propped against the driver’s door, an attractive look in his jeans, a button-down shirt loose over them, casual clothes that accentuated a body and presence that would catch any woman’s eye.

“So do you think about it?”

“What?” He changed lanes, moving smoothly around a slower car.

“When you . . . You’re three hundred years old.”

He cocked a brow. “You’re terrible at small talk, lass. ‘So, lad, have ye been thinking about your impending death?’”

She was torn between a smile at the exaggeration of his accent and her chagrin at the truth of it. “If you don’t want to talk about it—”

“Hmmph. Doesnae matter much, does it? It can happen anytime after the three-hundred-year line. Somewhere between one to three years for most, but some have lived tae see three-ten.” He shrugged. “Not much different from any other day with a vampire. It’s not the safest way to live your life, aye? Especially with Evan. He gets through other vampires’ territories on his charm and Lord Uthe’s sponsor letter, but plenty places are less respectful of that. He also takes plenty of risks for his camera shots. He’ll be barbecued one day, trying to get in that one extra moment, and that’ll be the end of me, right alongside him.”

“I’ve never known a vampire like him,” she admitted. “Or a servant like you. Who was he, before he was turned? If it’s not inappropriate to ask.”

“Not inappropriate to me.” He flashed teeth at her. “We’re all servants here, ma’am. He was an artist then as well. Showed a remarkable aptitude for it even as a wee lad, a child prodigy. He’s a Sephardic Jew, born in Italy. His da was a merchant and would ha’ had no patience for it, except Evan was bedridden most his life. They called it a wasting disease back then, nothing the doctors could do with it. The family business fell to the second son, because they didnae expect Evan to live. It went into remission for a few years, giving him a chance to travel about, but it came back with a vengeance by the time he turned twenty. He was dying when Lord Uthe discovered him. He’d stumbled on a few pictures Evan had sold, and tracked him down. When he found out Evan was near the end, he offered him immortality.”

She’d heard the various stories of made vampires, but she’d never heard anything as remarkable as that. She thought of how Evan could be so patient, remain so still. How he saw miracles in the most minute details. It was easy to imagine that skill being cultivated by an invalid child whose only changing landscape would have been through a bedroom window.

The Council was required to approve all turnings, but four hundred years ago, they hadn’t been in existence. Lord Uthe had acted on his own desires, which she found intriguing. The formidable right-hand member of the Council was an austere born vampire who’d served as a Knight Templar, a remarkable thing itself.

“I never realized Lord Uthe was a patron of the arts.”

Niall gave her a wry look. “He told Evan he wanted to see what a truly gifted artist would do with immortality. Ye know vampires are eternally curious about things like that, like little gods. He wanted to know whether mortality, the sense of the finite, gives an artist his talent, or if