Taken by a Vampire (Vampire Queen) - By Joey W. Hill Page 0,224

put it together so quickly. A muse can be male, Master.

Should Niall agree, Evan would have two muses, and they would carry him through eternity. As long as they could put up with him. He suppressed the smile, but it didn’t dispel the tension he concealed.

“There’s something else about Niall that suggests his suitability,” he added. “He’s a sexual Dominant. He submits to me, but in those we’ve shared, it quickly rises to the top. Alanna responded to it almost immediately.”

“Explaining why she slipped and called both of you Master?”

The queen missed nothing, God’s truth. Next she’d ask if he’d catered to the notion, cultivated it in his servant, and that would be a can of worms. He’d defuse it by hinting at the truth. “Yes. I expect so. Being a submissive has never been a good fit for Niall. Because of that, as well as my travels, my art, we’ve had an unexpected relationship as vampire and servant. He has been of course in a position of service to me, but I’ve always suspected, in that particular regard, we are cut from the same cloth.”

“Very well. We will have you step outside while we discuss and come to our decision on both matters. But should we agree on all counts, I feel it would be appropriate for both of you to third-mark Alanna, to protect and facilitate her service. Do you disagree?”

“Not at all,” Evan said. He would welcome it. He was certain Alanna would as well. She was intuitive that way.

He’d rendered Niall speechless. Probably realizing that reaction wasn’t an automatic assent, Alanna bit back any congratulatory exclamation. She was watching the Scot’s face as carefully as Evan.

“Three hundred years ago, I refused to let you slip from my fingers,” Evan continued steadily. “And now Alanna needs us both . . .”

Niall’s gaze flickered, recognizing the manipulative tactic. But a vampire was a vampire. “I need you both,” Evan admitted. “But that said, it is fully your choice, Niall. Neither Alanna nor I will try to force your decision. You must come to this yourself. But there’s more to it. We would both mark you, Alanna. You would have two Masters.”

“I think you both already are,” she said simply.

“I need to think.” Niall rose.

Though he’d expected that, Evan bit back a feeling of disappointment. Instead he rose as well. “It’s not an easy decision.”

“Aye.” Niall nodded toward Alanna. “But don’t wait on me. Go ahead and mark her as soon as we reach that seventy-two-hour mark, so she can regain her strength.”

“No.”

They both looked toward Alanna. “No,” she repeated. “It feels like I should wait until the decision is made, whether yes or no. And the one choice a servant has is to be marked, right?”

Evan sat back down and grasped her wrist, drawing her attention to the pulse which was still far too thready. “Alanna, you’re very weak. The audience with the Council posed an unacceptable danger to you. Your body is human right now, and very fragile. To ensure it stays on this side of the curtain, you must be marked as soon as possible.”

When her lips tightened with uncharacteristic stubbornness, he sharpened his tone. “You’re not being fair to Niall. You’ll hasten his decision, and it’s not a decision to be made without thought. Whatever he chooses, we will respect it, and care for him as we always have. Whatever happens . . . we will bear it. As two or three, but it will be borne.”

It didn’t matter that the idea stabbed through his chest like one of Niall’s wooden stakes. He made himself look toward Niall as he said the next words. “When Niall came into my service, the choice I gave him was not a choice at all, not to a man of honor. I won’t do that to him again.”

Niall stared at him, his tawny eyes suddenly full of a great many reactions. Alanna relented, reaching for the Scot’s hand. “I’m sorry, Niall,” she whispered. “I know he’s right. But I’ve never been allowed to want, and I didn’t realize how . . . overwhelming it can be.”

Niall’s expression flickered with pain. Stepping close enough to press her head against his abdomen, he dropped a kiss on her smooth skull. “Muirnín . . .” He drifted off helplessly, but then he knelt, caught her chin, held it in thumb and forefinger, gazing at her sternly. “If ye see us both as your Master, he’ll mark you the moment the clock ticks