Taken by a Vampire (Vampire Queen) - By Joey W. Hill Page 0,97

and he did so without taking his eyes off the trees on the other side of the glade. When he extended a hand, she put the basket down, came to him. Niall was stretched out on the grass to their left, his head propped on a rock. It had to be uncomfortable, but from the even rise and fall of his chest, he was asleep.

Closing his hand on hers, Evan moved her in front of him. He had his hips propped on one of those jutting rock clusters, so he could bring her back between his thighs. Sliding an arm around her waist, he brushed her ear with his lips.

Keep your gaze on the trees before you. It will take a while, but when you see something, tell me.

She nodded. The moment he touched her, everything in her became still, tranquil. Earlier, he’d taken her to a near-painful state of arousal with one kiss, but he could do this as well. She was comfortable in his arms, and she’d never applied that word to a vampire. When he was like this, he was relaxed, at all levels. It was a pervasive, unwavering calm, a dense energy like being near a warm fire, both attractive and unexpectedly vibrant, something that made her fingers curl over his on her waist. In response, he stroked her skin between the shirt and her jeans, inhaled her hair, nuzzled it with his lips. Enjoyed her as he watched and waited for her to see the world through his eyes.

She’d found it. A gray fox, sitting in the tree, studying them. She detected the gleam of his gaze, a stray bit of moonlight catching his silver pelt.

They climb trees quite well. But they’re used to hikers up here. We’re not why he’s in a tree.

Studying the animal, she watched to see who else he was monitoring. She found the young mountain lion in another tree, closer to the creek. His tail gave him away, the thick rope of it twitching, hanging down from his branch. At last deciding they weren’t close enough to be a threat, the cat leaped down, padding toward the creek. As he bent to drink from one of those shallow waterfalls, the spray made him lay back his ears and close his eyes.

Anticipating Evan, she adjusted so he could move to his camera. The mountain lion lifted his head, but then, after satisfying himself they weren’t a threat, he returned to drinking.

Alanna leaned against the rock, watching. She was entranced by the animal, but even more, she was entranced by Evan. He was on one knee, the tripod lowered to get the angle he desired. His shirt stretched over his shoulders, his short hair curving over the collar, tempting touch. His mouth was set in concentration, yet his eyes . . . there was magic happening in those eyes. He was seeing some form of ever-changing perfection, something he could capture. No, capture was the wrong word. He was seeking something to honor, as if his work was a praise to the gods.

When she’d sorted through his slides, her wonder at their diversity had slowed her task. Though he seemed focused on wildlife and landscapes in the mountains, he didn’t limit himself to one subject matter. She’d found city scenes, people, animals, experimental uses of light that turned everything into streaks and surreal impressions, like looking at an alternative world, layered over this one.

He combined subject matter in a disturbing way. She’d used a small, battery-operated projector to examine the slides on a larger scale, and found one of Niall, asleep in a field like this. However, the field had been overlaid with another picture, lifeless bodies, broken and bloody, the aftermath of a battle. The overlay had been arranged so the bodies cut a wide, noticeable circle around Niall, underscoring the contrast of his peaceful sleep with their not-so-peaceful death, a permanent sleep.

The mountain lion moved off. Evan straightened. When he began making notes on the tattered pad he propped on his thigh, she returned to her picnic basket. She brought it to Niall, but he didn’t stir, so she retrieved her book and sat on the grass next to him. It was a good position to watch Evan, and she wondered if Niall had chosen it for that reason. No matter their occasional friction, there was an obvious, unbreakable tether between them.

Even in sleep, no one would mistake Niall for anything but what he was, a powerful man, sure of