Taken by a Vampire (Vampire Queen) - By Joey W. Hill Page 0,89

you keep your hair nice and shiny . . .

She slapped it down, raked her hair back and fastened it with a clip. She’d let it dry snarled, if her hair being shiny meant nothing to him. Coming back into the main room, she saw a napkin on the floor. She recalled Evan had brushed it off the table when he went toward the door.

As she leaned down to pick it up, Niall came in. When he’d helped her out of the creek, he’d been braced on the bank, so now he tracked mud over the braided mat.

“Leave it,” he said. “He can pick it up.” The edge to Niall’s voice suggested he and Evan had disagreed over what had just happened. From any other vampire–servant pairing, she’d say that was beyond the realm of possibility, but not for them.

Training. That was the only anchor she had left. The one they seemed determine to pull up.

“It’s our job to pick it up.”

“Why? He knocked it off.”

She wasn’t having this ridiculous argument. She knew her duty, even if Niall chose to ignore his. As her fingers brushed the cloth, Niall put his muddy boot square in the middle of it, where she couldn’t tug it free.

“Leave it.”

His order gave her that odd shiver, but something else came to the forefront as well. She’d been thrown in a creek, had failed to kiss her Master as he desired. He asked for skills she didn’t have and ignored the ones she did, ones that could be used for his benefit. Of course, out here in the middle of nowhere, with no political standing, no power at all, he didn’t even want or value her training. He wanted her to “do for herself” when he didn’t need her. As long as she was under his wardship, hours and hours of horrifying free time were going to be stretching before her.

This was not who she was.

“I will not leave it.” She snapped up straight, faced Niall with a set jaw. “Just because you delight in being lazy and pretending you’re your Master’s equal, doesn’t mean I’m going to throw away years of Council training to suit your whims. I am an InhServ. I am completely at the mercy of our Master, and grateful for any chance to be of service.”

She decided to ignore the fact that she’d run from Evan’s demands. She couldn’t seem to stop her mouth, or the emotions boiling up inside her. “I will not emulate your blatant disrespect, even if he accepts such an unnatural egalitarian relationship with you.”

With that, she gave him a shove to get him off that napkin. He didn’t move of course, but his brows lifted nearly to his hairline. Then the corner of his mouth tugged up, and he took a step back. Snatching up the napkin, she saw him grin. It made her even angrier. Turning away, she intended to put the napkin in the trash, but instead Niall caught her about the waist, hauled her back against him. She snarled at him, astonishing herself by calling him some highly uncomplimentary names.

Niall’s chuckle against her ear was sensual and dangerous. “You’re asking for another spanking, lass. A much harder one.”

If he tried, she swore she’d take a pound of his flesh in trade.

Under those conditions, I might enjoy watching you get spanked.

Why doesn’t Niall deserve a spanking?

Evan’s laughter confused her. Somehow she’d pleased him. It made her angry, because everything in her responded to that approbation, even as she felt like she was being teased.

“Easy, lass.” Niall kept a firm hold on her, stroking her hair off her neck, knuckles tracing her still damp temple and cheek. Then he put his warm lips against her throat.

Her nails dug into the hand holding her waist, not gently, but he scored her with his teeth, a sharp bite that made her whimper. His other hand tangled in her hair, held her immobile as he took his time with it, suckling beads of water from her skin, nuzzling her beneath her ear.

She was in no-man’s-land. Though still riding a storm of emotions, she realized she’d just behaved horribly, said unforgivable things. Yet Evan was pleased with her, and Niall was kissing her as if he’d just discovered a woman’s flesh. She couldn’t resist pressing her head against his shoulder, tilting it away to give him better access, her nails now biting into his hand for a different reason. Her body above and below his arm were cold, needy.

She