Taken by a Vampire (Vampire Queen) - By Joey W. Hill Page 0,11

like a startled deer, dropping the case on his foot.

“My apologies,” she said stiffly. “I’m not accustomed to another servant touching me when a vampire isn’t present to order it.”

“No worries, lass. My foot’s hard as my heid. Almost.” Giving her flushed cheeks a casual scrutiny, he thought there was more to her startled reaction than that. “Is that a forbidden thing, then?”

“Yes. Incidental brushes of contact can lead to other things, given how attuned servants are to the carnal appetites of their Masters and Mistresses. A Master or Mistress requires that all desire be centered or channeled through their orders, not the feelings or desires of the servant. It’s important for the servant to keep their focus at all times on their Master or Mistress.”

Niall blinked. “That’s a mouthful, lass. So you’re saying ye dinnae trust yourself to touch me.”

When her gaze snapped up, he gave her a charming smile, in spite of her haunted look that twisted his heart. “There you are. Lass, I dinnae know a thing about Inherited Servants. My run-o’-the-mill servant skills are shabby enough. But you’ve no need to worry about my manners. They’re rough, but I wouldnae force myself on an unwilling woman. You’re safe with me.”

She shook her head. “I’m not afraid of that. InhServs follow a strict code of conduct. It’s necessary for us to maintain the quality of our service. There’s no reason you should know about it, and I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I really can carry my case.”

“Why would a lady want to do that when she has a big clumsy bear like myself tae do it? I have to be useful somehow. Let’s get out o’ this damp hellhole.”

Her brows lifted, but she nodded. When he gestured to the door, she hesitated. Niall realized she wasn’t used to preceding anyone out a door.

“Go on,” he encouraged. “I want to keep you in sight. Otherwise, I might thump ye with this wee case. Plus,” he added, “a man enjoys watching the way a lass walks.”

She pressed her lips together. Evan had thought it would be easier for Niall to bring her home alone, give her time to talk servant-

to-servant. Niall was starting to think she’d be more at ease with the vampire, where every word was a gospel command, a safe structure.

“Has your Master sent any instructions for me?” she asked, underscoring it.

“To follow my direction as if it’s his own. If I tell ye to eat a triple-scoop chocolate fudge sundae and take a good long nap on the flight, that’s what you better have. He gets pretty worked up if we dinnae follow his instructions.”

He thought he saw something in the doe brown eyes—a flash of impatience or temper—but then it was replaced with resignation. A numbness he didn’t like. “Whatever your Master wills, I will follow. I am here to serve. You do not have to expend any effort toward my well-being.”

Surely the lass knew he was teasing her? Or had she thought he was mocking her?

Setting down the case, Niall saw her brief flash of alarm when he didn’t react as he was sure she’d hoped, taking the lead, getting her to the plane, no more conversation required. Instead, he moved to the trash can. Poking around, he saw the rice wrapped in a cloth. As she’d said, the cuts had been minor, the cloth marked with only a few drops of blood. “How’d they get blood for their sign?”

When she didn’t respond, he lifted his head, fixed his gaze on her. “You’ll want to answer me, lass,” he said.

Those lashes swept down, telling him she knew a command when she heard it. But it took her another second to get it out. “The first night I was back from the infirmary, they came in at dawn, cut my arm, made me draw the S. It is expected in such a situation.”

When he crossed the room and clasped her wrist, he could feel her fighting not to move. He pushed up the sweater sleeve and suppressed an oath. Had they used a bloody rusty steak knife? The jagged cut had been made over another mark, a fleur-de-lis enclosed in a circle of Latin script he couldn’t make out because of the wound. At some point the tattoo must have been infused with her Master’s blood to make it permanent, kept fresh with periodic re-inking. Evan did it to Niall’s own tattoos every so often; otherwise Niall’s third mark would re-knit skin, mar the