Taken by a Vampire (Vampire Queen) - By Joey W. Hill Page 0,162

what could save their lives now.

Master, the men are thinking of confronting the vampire. I will stall him, but they must be dissuaded or they will come to harm.

Alanna, no. Stay with Tyler and Brendan. That’s a command.

Please protect them, Master. I know I will be all right.

18

SHE slipped away into the darkness, hoping Tyler and Brendan would assume she’d gone to find Evan. She had to walk carefully in the stilettos toward the forest edge. She wished she could remove them, but even without the locks on them, she knew it was better to remain in the full trappings of a submissive. When the feeling was too strong to be anything else but close proximity to the vampire, she made a formal curtsy that became a full kneel.

“Sir, are you here to speak to my Master?”

She waited, head bowed. Even though she heard nothing, she knew when he was there, standing before her. His hiking shoes were crusted with marsh mud. Did he live in one of the secluded cabins out in the marshlands, taking his blood from boating tourists?

Alanna.

Evan’s tense voice in her head was welcome, even as she registered his vast displeasure with her decision.

“Who is your Master, fair one?”

The voice was even and reasonable, but she wasn’t fooled. She kept her eyes lowered, her posture open in all ways. “Evan Miller, sir. He travels throughout all territories freely with the sponsorship of Lord Uthe of the Vampire Council.”

“That does not excuse him from coming to the overlord for a token marking before traveling through his territory. I don’t scent Lord Richard’s marking on him.”

“Yes, sir. Lord Richard was appointed by Lady Lyssa. Lady Lyssa has sanctioned my Master’s travel as well.”

A hand with long, sharp nails closed over her throat, lifting her to her feet. Raising her gaze, she saw the vampire holding her had snarled dark hair and a red bloodlust coloring his eyes. He was hunting, had not yet fed. That meant he had no servant. That, combined with his remote location and rough, feral appearance, told her he was a Traditionalist. Her blood ran cold.

The Trads were a more radical splinter of the vampire world, though there was a certain romanticized regard for them, like the human view of pirates or Jesse James. Many vampires, while enjoying the comforts the human world provided, respected the Trads’ purity of intent, their commitment to viewing humans only as prey, no more willing to live in their world than humans were to dwell in a field of cows.

Considering they were a sect of the vampire world who kept human kills only to the level that would escape Council attention, she’d been correct to draw him away from the humans. Killing Brendan or Tyler would be no more to him than snapping off a branch. If called to task for it by Council, he would assert he was protecting the secret of vampire existence from the unmarked human world. Easy to substantiate, since he made no attempt to disguise what he was.

“Why does your Master insult me, sending a servant to explain his presence? He needs a reminder that powerful friends do not excuse him from courtesy to his superiors.”

“I can assure you, sir, my Master meant you no insult. He has to excuse himself from the humans’ presence without causing curiosity. He was protecting your privacy. He says”—she kept her voice steady while telling the lie—“you may sate your hunger upon me, to appease any unintended offense. You may do with me as you wish.”

“That is true, regardless of his will.” His grip eased, though he didn’t release her. Stroking a long-nailed hand over her breast, he sniffed her throat. His breath smelled of stale blood, for Trads shunned what they considered human hygiene. She thought of Niall making out a grocery list that first day, patiently explaining to Evan that “Henry’s out of Aquafresh. You’ll have tae put on your big-boy knickers and make do with Colgate.”

The comfort of the memory vanished as the vampire’s touch dropped. His jagged nail caught the edge of the thong, dipped beneath to scrape her clit roughly. When she stole a quick glance at him from beneath her lashes, he was emotionless. It sent a chill up her spine.

“You are lovely. Quite . . . cultured. Why are you with a Master below your station, InhServ?”

Damn it, he’d recognized the InhServ tattoo. “I serve at the Council’s choosing, sir. Rank is unimportant. Only service matters.”

“I’ve no patience for a