Belatedly aware they were moving through a long hallway lined with heavy tapestries, she gave his back another punch.
“Put me down, you barbarian.”
“Berserker,” he snapped.
“Is that supposed to be better?” she ground out, wiggling in an effort to dislodge his hand that was causing tiny sparks of pleasure to race through her body. “I told you to put me down.”
Her wiggles were futile, but thankfully they’d reached a closed door and he was forced to release her butt to shove it open.
“My lair, my rules.”
They entered what appeared to be a large room with a woven carpet in shades of silver and violet.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I’m not your damned servant.” He crossed the floor, abruptly dropping her on a massive four-poster bed with a feather mattress. “So long as you’re beneath my roof you’ll treat me with respect.”
“Respect is earned, not commanded.”
“Actually I just did.” He planted his fists on his hips, using his powers to ignite the logs that were neatly stacked in the stone fireplace. “And you’d better pay attention.”
“Or?”
“Or I’ll return you to the caves and you can rot down there for all I care.”
Fallon glared into the forcefully handsome face, catching a glimpse of snowy white fangs. Sensibly she knew she should be afraid of him.
He was a lethal predator who had her completely at his mercy.
But she wasn’t afraid.
She was angry and frustrated and terrifyingly aware of the hard, male body barely concealed beneath the thin robe.
“I really dislike you,” she muttered, trying to tug the robe down her legs.
“The feeling is mutual.”
“I . . .” Fallon forgot what she was going to say as she belatedly noticed her surroundings. “Oh.”
Cyn was instantly wary. “Now what?”
She forgot her urge to slap his arrogant face as she slowly scanned the pale ash furniture that filled the room.
Beyond the canopied bed, there was a chest set beneath a large stained-glass window that was composed in shades of indigo and saffron and crimson with threads of gold. The arched masterpiece not only provided beauty, but filtered out any potential sunlight. Near the fireplace was a rocking chair that matched the large armoire near the door. And nearer the bed was a delicate washstand.
There was a definite medieval vibe, but it was the exquisite craftsmanship that captured Fallon’s attention.
With a soft sigh she shoved herself to her knees, reaching to skim her fingers over the delicate pattern that had been carved into the wooden posts of the bed.
Row after row of tiny flowers and woodland creatures flowed from the top of the post to the bottom, each one charmingly different in design. And the carvings were echoed on every piece of furniture, giving the room an ethereal beauty that tugged at her heart.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, feeling as if she were surrounded by a woodland glade despite the fact that the sun would never be allowed to stray beyond the window. “Really, really beautiful.”
Cyn made a strangled sound, as if pushed to the very edge.
“Bloody hell, you could drive a saint to drink,” he roared.
Ignoring the completely unfair accusation, she continued to stroke her fingers over the glossy wood.
“Where did you find the furnishings?”
“I made them.”
She sent him a startled glance. “You?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
Fallon frowned at the hint of defensiveness in his tone. Was he embarrassed to reveal his artistic talent?
“This is fey in design.”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “I was taken in by fairies while I was a foundling. Mika trained me to carve.”
Fallon couldn’t deny a stab of curiosity.
She’d watched this world enough to know it was extremely unusual for any demon to foster another species, let alone a fairy taking in a savage vampire.
It would be like a human adopting a full-grown lion.
But she wasn’t about to probe. Not when Cyn was already treating her as if she were some unwelcomed intruder who’d invaded his lair.
Like black mold.
“He must have been a master craftsman,” she instead murmured.
“Careful, princess. That was perilously close to a compliment,” he mocked.
Okay. That was it.
Turning her head, she stabbed him with a furious glare.
“Do you always have to be an ass?”
He abruptly grimaced, then without warning, he reached out to cup her cheek with his hand.
“No,” he said, his thumb brushing her lower lip.
Fallon stilled, sensing the electric tension that sizzled between them.
“Cyn?”
His lips twisted at the sudden uncertainty in her voice.
“We’re stuck together. At least for now,” he said, his gaze lowering to her mouth. Almost as if he was imagining how it would taste beneath his own. “We need a truce.”
Fallon shivered, the image of him tumbling her back onto the mattress and covering her with his hard body searing through her mind.
It was raw and primal and scary as hell.
You’re playing with fire, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. And you’re the one who’s going to get burned.
She covertly inched back on the mattress. He carried with him a force field that threatened to suck her in.
“It should be simple enough.” She managed to sound almost indifferent. Good for her.
His gaze remained locked on her lips. “Do you think so?”
“This is obviously a large lair. There’s truly no need to spend any time in each other’s company.”
Something that looked like . . . hurt . . . flared through his eyes before he abruptly dropped his hand and stepped back.
“Right,” he muttered, turning to head toward the door. “A perfect solution.”
“Wait.” Feeling ridiculously guilty, Fallon scrambled off the bed, her feet barely touching the floor as the door was being slammed shut.
With a shake of her head, she flopped back on the mattress, wondering why men had to be so . . . so impossible.
Cyn didn’t know why he was so pissed as he left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Hell, he should be pleased the aggravating little fairy wanted to stay out of his way. This was his home. The place he indulged in his favorite vices.
The last thing he wanted was an intrusive, nagging, obscenely tempting . . .
He muttered a curse, storming toward a wide staircase to make his way to his private chambers that were built belowground. The entire castle was wrapped in spells of illusion as well as thick magic that prevented any stray trespassers. There were also heavy stained-glass windows that shielded the interior from the sun.
But old habits were hard to break. Especially for a vampire who was as old as Cyn.
Entering the cavernous room that was filled with ebony furniture and lush gold and black tapestries, Cyn crossed to the desk that was surrounded by floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Yanking open the top drawer, he pulled out a cell phone that was always kept charged and sent a text to his top lieutenant, using an encrypted code that warned her to meet him in his lair without alerting anyone as to where she was going.
Then, with long strides he entered the fully modern bathroom and stripped off the ridiculous robe, still bristling with a baffling sense of annoyance. Then, stepping into the shower he turned on the water, shivering beneath the icy blast.
Okay. He was attracted to Fallon. Maybe even more than just attracted. Despite her prudish nature and irritating arrogance, she was the most stunningly beautiful woman he’d ever seen. What man wouldn’t be fantasizing about having her spread across his bed?
Or on a fur rug in front of a blazing fire.
Or in a moonlit mead
ow with a thousand stars spread above them.
Or...
He cursed again, scrubbing himself clean and stepping out of the shower.
He’d just pulled on a pair of faded jeans and a loose cable-knit sweater when there was the sound of approaching footsteps. Returning to the outer chamber, Cyn watched the female vampire stroll through the doorway.
A small smile curved his lips.
Lise looked like a china doll. A tiny body that was currently covered by tight black leggings and a long, flowing shirt. Straight black hair that was chopped just above her shoulders, pale, delicate features, and startling blue eyes that could disarm the most suspicious predator.
But the second she stepped into the room, any assumption that she was a dainty, submissive creature was blown all to hell.
Even with ten feet between them, Cyn could feel the unnerving pulse of her power beat against him.
That power combined with her brilliant intelligence would have made her a formidable clan chief, but Lise had refused to enter the battles of Durotriges. She claimed that her off-the-charts IQ prevented her from doing something so stupid as to become the leader of a bunch of barely civilized demons with authority issues. Cyn suspected her decision had more to do with a mysterious male from her past than any fear of commitment to a clan.
He never pressed for details. He wasn’t about to lose the best lieutenant he’d ever had.
Halting in the center of the Turkish carpet that covered the stone floor, Lise allowed her gaze to take a slow survey of his large form.
It wasn’t sexual. It was a well-trained warrior judging whether or not Cyn’s return was some sort of trick that would put the clan at risk.
When she was at last convinced he wasn’t an illusion, or shape-shifter who’d assumed the identity of her clan chief, and that his mind didn’t appear to be compromised, she took another step forward, an almost smile touching her lips.
“So. You live.”
He flicked a brow upward. “Don’t get all choked up.”
She shrugged. “I knew you would return.”
“I doubt the rest of the clan shared your confidence,” he said, abruptly realizing his mind was only partially on his companion while the majority of his attention was focused on the startling acute sense of Fallon two floors above him. Bloody hell, had the female cast some fey spell on him? With a grim effort, he tried to slam the door on his unwelcome connection to the princess. “Did you have any challenges?” he demanded.
Lise’s smile widened, giving a glimpse of her sharp fangs. “Oddly enough most of the clan think that I’m—”
“Scary as hell?” he completed in dry tones.
“Intimidating,” she corrected. “Where have you been?”
“Fairyland.”
There was a startled silence before Lise narrowed her gaze. “Is that a joke?”
“Actually it’s a long story.” He gave a shake of his head. He didn’t want to discuss the fact he’d been magically transported out of the Chatri palace and caught in some dimensional limbo for weeks. He was still weirded out by the whole thing. “For now all you need to know is that no one can realize that I have returned.”
A rare hint of surprise touched Lise’s usually inscrutable face.
“Is there a particular reason why?”
“A request by an Oracle.”
Lise grimaced. “A wise vampire tries to avoid the attention of the Commission.”
No shit. Unfortunately Cyn hadn’t been given an option.
“Too late,” he muttered. “I’m just hoping to survive the next few days.”
“What can I do to help?”
And that was what made Lise the perfect second-in-command.
No unnecessary dramatics. No annoying questions he obviously didn’t want to answer. Just a request to know how she could assist.
“I will need you to continue with my clan duties.”
“No problem.” She studied his carefully guarded expression, clearly sensing that he was hiding something from her. “Anything else?”
“I’ll need food.”
Lise nodded. “I’ll bring fresh blood tomorrow night.”
“And fairy food,” he commanded.
A startled blink. “Fairy food?”
Cyn ignored her response. “Nectar and the usual berries and nuts. And female clothing.” He waved a hand toward his companion. “Slender like you, but a few inches taller.”
Lise nodded, accustomed to Cyn’s habit of filling his home with unexpected guests.
“Just one fairy?”
Once again he realized that he’d unconsciously reached out with his senses to lock on Fallon, a low hum of awareness vibrating through his body.
Bloody hell.
“Trust me, that’s one more than I wanted to bring,” he muttered.
Lise’s power whipped through the room, forming a coating of ice on the overhead chandelier, at the edge of frustration in Cyn’s tone.
“Do you want me to get rid of her?”
“No.” His power rose to match Lise’s, an unspoken warning that his guest was not to be harmed. “She’s here at the command of the Oracle.”
Lise ratcheted down her rare ability to create ice as a weapon, studying Cyn as if he’d given away more than he intended.
“The mystery deepens,” she murmured, her nose abruptly flaring as she tilted back her head to test the air. “What is that smell?” She shivered. “Delicious.”
Cyn had already caught the unmistakable scent of champagne, his blood heating with a dangerous anticipation.
Damn.
“My unwelcome houseguest,” he muttered, glancing toward the bank of security monitors that were discreetly attached to the wall in a shallow alcove above the desk.
Lise moved to stand at his side, her brows lifting at the sight of the female Chatri who was floating with elegant grace down the sweeping staircase.
“Unwelcome? She’s beautiful.”
Cyn snapped his teeth together.
No, not beautiful. Fallon was exquisite.
A walking work of art.
A lethal temptation that threatened to drive him over the edge.
“And a pain in the ass,” he rasped, turning toward Lise as she gave a low chuckle. “What?”
“The best always are.”
“The best what?”
She sent him a cryptic smile. “I’ll leave you to figure that out.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll return later with the food and clothes.”
With a mocking wave, Lise moved toward a hidden side door. The tunnel would take her directly to the small village that was built on a bluff overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.
Cyn gave a shake of his head, walking across the floor and out of his private chambers. He might not be the smartest vampire, but he had enough brains to know that he didn’t want his personal space saturated with the intoxicating scent of the bewitching princess.
She had already managed to become a nagging constant in his brain when he was awake, she wasn’t going to become a part of his dreams.
Not until she was soft and willing beneath him.
His long strides had him up the stairs and standing in the foyer that was paneled in a polished mahogany with an open beam ceiling and a massive stone fireplace. Absently he used his powers to light a fire beneath the neatly stacked logs. As a vampire he was immune to the distinct chill in the air, but he suspected that Fallon would be far more vulnerable to the temperature. The Chatri palace had been almost tropical during his brief visit.
He would have to remember to keep the lair warm.
Taking another step forward, Cyn watched as Fallon halted her descent down the stairs, her impatient expression being replaced by an annoying wariness as she caught sight of him.
“There you are, vampire.”
A growl rumbled in his chest at her haughty tone. Why the hell had he bothered with the fire? The Ice Princess deserved to freeze.
“I have a name.
Use it,” he said, his fists planted on his hips.
“I don’t take orders from you.”
“And what about basic manners? Weren’t you taught civilized behavior in fairyland?”
She held herself stiffly, her gaze trained on his face, as if forcibly preventing herself from checking out his body.
“You’re right. I was being rude . . . Cyn.”
Ah. His bad temper abruptly melted away.
Fallon, the fey princess, might not want to admit she was attracted to a savage vampire, but there was no mistaking the slight dilation of her eyes and the blush that tinted her cheeks.
He strolled forward, leaning against the carved post at the end of the stairs, eye to eye with Fallon as she stood on the bottom step.
“What do you want?”
“I need . . .” Her eyes abruptly widened, the emerald flecks in her eyes sparking with outrage. “Do you have a woman here?”
Cyn fought the urge to smile. “Jealous, princess?”
“Of course not.” Her voice was just a tad too forceful. “I’m merely concerned considering that Siljar ordered us to keep our presence here a secret. You could have at least waited a few hours before breaking the rules.”
“I’m a vampire with needs.” He trailed a finger over her hand that was clutching the banister, relishing her tiny tremor before she was yanking away from his light caress. “So unless you’re willing to fulfill them—”
“That’s disgusting.”
“Why?” he demanded. “You just made your list of demands, didn’t you? You have needs that you want sated.”
Her lips thinned. “I have to eat.”
His hand moved to grasp a golden curl, sliding the silken strands between her fingers. “As do I.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, but she didn’t try to pull away, not even when his fingers moved to trace the faint blue vein running down the length of her neck.
“You were feeding?”
“Why do you care?”
“I . . .” Her chin tilted. “I don’t.”
He leaned forward, absorbing the intoxicating scent of champagne laced with an unmistakable hint of arousal.
“Liar.”
Chapter Four
Fallon told herself not to react to the annoying vampire as he joined her on the step, his hands landing on the banister so she was effectively trapped.