Taken by a Vampire (Vampire Queen) - By Joey W. Hill Page 0,6

Lyssa uttering Lord Daegan’s name in her presence was a prime example. Only the Council members and their servants—and of course Lord Stephen had been on the Council—knew Daegan was the Council assassin, dispatching vampires who broke the laws of their volatile world. She’d been in his presence rarely herself, but he exuded exactly what he was. The top predator in a world of predators, perhaps only surpassed by Lady Lyssa herself, and Alanna wouldn’t be putting money on the winner of that combat.

In short, Alanna knew as much about vampire politics and etiquette as the queen. But it was a moot point. When Stephen was apprehended, he would be executed. As soon as a vampire died, blocker or no, his fully marked servant died with him.

Was the burden of dealing with her, putting him in Stephen’s path, a punishment for Evan? A debt he owed to the Council?

“Niall will arrive Friday to escort you to him. Until you receive any further direction from the Council, you serve Evan as a servant should. Obey him as you would obey me, in all things.”

“Yes, my lady.” The command of any vampire was law, as long as that command didn’t conflict with orders from the servant’s Master or Mistress. Even their will could be overridden if the command was issued by a higher-ranking vampire, though the servant could expect punishment for it by her vampire later. Stephen had done so severely, once or twice, when she’d obeyed the directive of a Council member who outranked him. He hadn’t expected her to disobey the Council member, any more than she’d been surprised to endure his ire and abused ego over it. Being the outlet for his anger was part of her responsibilities.

Pushing away any tension she had over serving a vampire again, she accepted her charge. She was to treat Evan as her Master, even though he would withhold the vital third mark that would bind her irrevocably to him, and she would be bait for Stephen, her true Master. It made her tired and sad.

If a servant was allowed preferences—and she wasn’t—she would have preferred death.

2

THERE wouldn’t be much to pack. Stephen’s household items had been seized by the Council, and most of the items she’d brought to the castle before everything transpired were gone, stolen while she was in the infirmary. However, upon her return from the meeting with Lady Lyssa, she found everything else had been taken. Apparently, the small corps of InhServ in permanent residence with the Council were sending one last message. Since it would be three days before Niall came for her, and she didn’t want her new Master’s representative to find her unprepared, she quietly approached the household staff, offering to help out with their duties in exchange for a couple of changes of clothes and basic toiletries. Hairbrush, toothbrush, makeup. Feminine products, since her health had improved enough for her monthly courses to resume.

Within a few hours of that discussion, a knock at her door revealed Jacob. Glancing at the sign that had been tacked there by the InhServs, his mouth tightened, his blue eyes getting cold, making it clear his Mistress wasn’t the only one with a dangerous side. When he reached for it, she lifted a hand.

“Please don’t. It’s better to leave it.”

After a close study of her expression, he nodded. Stepping inside the room, he put down an armload of packages and store bags. “These contain the items you requested from the staff.”

She couldn’t have been more mortified if Lady Lyssa herself had delivered them. “I didn’t—”

“No, you didn’t. But you should have.” He touched her face, drawing her gaze up to him. “If you need anything further like this, Alanna, you’ll come to me or Victor and let us know. Don’t let me find out otherwise.”

Victor, Belizar’s servant, had run the castle before Lyssa took the Council head’s position by force. In that interesting way servants had, Victor and Jacob had overlooked their vampires’ differences and worked together to keep things running efficiently.

“I didn’t intend to cause you any additional work. If there’s anything I can do . . .”

“You won’t be helping the household staff.” Picking up her hand, he examined the thinness of her wrists. “If you need something to keep you occupied, I’ll give you desk work. There’s plenty of correspondence. God knows, both Victor and I hate doing it.”

Jacob had been the only one to touch her since . . . Evan and Niall. She didn’t want