Page 9 of A Stone-Kissed Sea

She could feel him in the room when she woke.

  “Yene konjo, you may hate me, but I will not let you die.”

  Makeda was assaulted by her senses, bruised by the rush of input to her system. The sheet over her naked body was too heavy. The low light from the lamp was too bright. When she inhaled, she tasted everything.

  Including the warm blood near her face.

  She turned her head and sliced her teeth into the bag of warm blood. She ignored the oily taste of the plastic and focused on the salty-sweet liquid sliding down her throat. Within a minute, the worst of her thirst was quenched. She flipped over and pressed up, her muscles coiled and ready as she rested on her hands and knees, wholly aware of the creature who’d been watching her as she woke.

  “You.” Her voice sounded strange to her ears. “You did this.”

  “I didn’t sire you,” Lucien said, pushing away from the wall.

  “You. Did. This.”

  Makeda took in his appearance in a second. Exhausted eyes. Firm lips. Body tensed and ready.

  He nodded. “I did this.”

  Despite her fury, a raw wave of sensual hunger swept her body as she looked at him. Her mind was in chaos, even as her body readied itself and pheromones scented the air. Lucien’s mouth fell open as he drew in a breath. Makeda could see fangs dropping past his lips. See his erection harden beneath the civilized trousers.

  “Makeda—”

  “Why?”

  He paused. To her newly woken senses, his response felt like hours.

  “Because I need you.”

  She sprang at him, jumping off the exam table where they had placed her. She rose before him, her thigh brushing the steel of his erection while her hand closed around his throat.

  Lucien did not blink. Not when she tightened her hand. Not when her fangs cut her lip.

  His eyes locked on the bead of blood at her mouth, and Makeda heard his heart beat once.

  “Makeda,” he whispered.

  Her other hand shot up to grip his hair at the nape. She pulled. Hard. His head didn’t even move. He stood, body like stone, as she stared until he was forced to meet her eyes.

  Cold eyes. Cold skin.

  Just like hers was now.

  Rage and desire flipped like a coin in the air. She grew damp between her legs. Her nails dug into his skin at the neck and she bent her head, her fangs aching as she licked out to taste him. Sweat. Skin. Blood.

  Male.

  He grabbed her hair and yanked her face up. She crawled up his body, locking her legs around his waist as his other hand gripped her thigh. If she were human, he would have broken her.

  A low growl came from Lucien’s throat when he bared his fangs. He took a deep breath and delicately traced the tip of a fang along her lower lip where it bled. His tongue flicked out. Eyes locked with hers, he licked at the blood dripping down her chin.

  A sound between a snarl and a moan came from her throat. The hunger filled her mind. It made her ache. She wanted him to bite her. Fill her. Drink her blood as she drank his. Her hand tightened on his throat.

  “We can’t,” Lucien said, even as his tongue reached her lip. He didn’t stop. He bit her lower lip with his dull front teeth, then slid his tongue along her fangs. “Makeda, we can’t.”

  She yanked his hair harder. “I hate you.”

  “I know.”

  “But I don’t care.” She released her hand from his neck and sank her teeth into the skin above his carotid.

  Lucien roared and pressed her head to his neck for three heartbeats before he wrenched her away, his flesh tearing beneath her teeth. He flipped them around and pushed Makeda against the wall, his hips cradled between her thighs as he thrust against her. She felt the rasp of cloth against her labia. The press of his erection. He froze, her hair gripped in his hand. He pressed his forehead to hers and growled.

  “Stop.”

  Instinct made her submit. His body was rock hard against hers, and she could feel his dominance battle against her own. She felt his amnis as she never had in life, a warm press of influence against her skin. It made her want to scream. It made her want to purr.

  “Stop,” Lucien said again, tugging on her hair. “Take a breath.”

  “I don’t need to breathe.”

  “Breathe anyway.”

  Very deliberately, Makeda slid one leg down until she could touch the floor. She breathed. The rise and fall of her chest let her pause. Think.

  She was naked, but she felt no embarrassment or shame. She felt… free. Her body was inhumanly strong. It was responsive. She felt the pull and stretch of her muscles with a new level of awareness.

  She said, “Release me.”

  Lucien released her thigh but not her hair. She slid the other leg down, her toes teasing the back of his thigh, his knee, before she righted herself. She took another deep breath, but all she smelled was Lucien’s rampant need. One instinct battled the other. His need to control. His need to give in.

  She’d done this to him.

  Her lip curled up, and she felt the pressure behind her fangs ease. “Let go of my hair.”

  “Are you in control?”

  “Are you?”

  He let go of her and took a step back. She saw him carefully wipe any emotion from his face as he moved away from her. Within seconds, his careful mask was back in place.

  “Who did it?” she asked.

  “Baojia.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you: I need you. You called me tonight. Said you made a breakthrough. It may be the only chance we have at curing this disease. Did you think I was going to let you just die?”

  So calculating. So cold. Her desires had never mattered. Apparently they weren’t even considered.

  She asked, “Why not change me yourself?”

  He paused.

  “Well?”

  “I don’t have any children,” he said. “I don’t want the obligation or the responsibility.”

  Makeda’s lip curled. “So now I’m Baojia’s child?”

  “As of right now, you’re no one’s child. He turned you to fulfill a deal we’ve had in place for years. We would each turn one human of the other’s choosing. No argument. No obligation. You are not under Baojia’s aegis unless you want to be. You are not under Katya’s because I won’t allow it.”

  I won’t allow it. A rising sense of panic shot through her. “So where do I belong?”

  Lucien looked at her long and hard. “Though Baojia cannot demand your loyalty as per our arrangement, he has offered his own. You may choose my aegis or Baojia’s. Those are your options.”

  Bitterness soured her mouth. “What if I don’t want to belong to either of you?”

  “Those are your options, Makeda. Baojia or me. You know enough about the way our world works to know you must belong to someone.” He took another step back. “So choose.”

  Before she could respond, Lucien walked out the door, closed it, and Makeda heard him turn the key in the lock.

  Saba

  Sevastopol, Black Sea

  Saba waited across from the young fire vampire, Kato at her side. The man was one of her blood, his sire of her direct line, but his element had manifested in fire. She didn’t know him. Didn’t know what to think of him except that when he’d been required to kill his own daughter to protect their race, he had done so.

  “Do you distrust me?” Oleg asked. “To bring a water vampire to our meeting?”

  Saba cocked her head. “That would imply I had some fear of you, child. I do not.”

  “No?”

  Without another word, Saba held her hand out, palm up, on the table between them. Oleg looked at her hand for a long time. He frowned, deep lines forming between his eyebrows, then he reached out and put his hand in hers.

  Saba closed her fingers over Oleg’s warm palm and gripped it. Hard. “No,” she said. “I do not.”

  “I had no desire to hold your hand,” he said. “I do not like to touch others.”

  She
could hear his heart. “And yet you did.”

  A flicker of fear in his eyes. He was a wise one to be scared of her. For though some thought of Saba as a grandmother and others as a benevolent and wise spirit, Saba was of the earth.

  And the earth could be a cruel mother.

  Oleg asked, “Who are you?”

  “Who have you heard that I am?”

  “The oldest of us. The oldest of all of us.”

  “You may be correct.” Saba didn’t release Oleg’s hand. “I do know your blood comes from the earth. From one of my line. So, Oleg Sokolov, you are mine, whether you want to be or not.”

  The vampire’s eyes flared. He didn’t like that news.

  “What do you know of the Elixir?”

  “I know that I wish I’d never listened to my mate. She’s dead now, with good reason.”

  Interesting. Had he killed his own mate for involving him in Elixir? That was… very interesting.

  “Do you have any dealings in it?”

  “Do I look like a madman?” He shook his head. “You know I am not lying. Anyone in my organization who was involved in that filth is dead. Dead by my hand. Those who had my blood and those who did not. And I have paid the price for my foolishness many times over. Ask anyone.” He waved a hand around the tavern. “Oleg’s ships cannot pass without paying half their profit in tariff to the Greek.”

  “Because you killed his lover?”

  Oleg’s eyes flared, and his heat permeated the booth. “Because I will not be played the fool. Especially not by those seeking to spy on me within my own house. Anyone taken in by that madman has been put to death.”

  “Where did the madness lie?” Saba asked. “Was it Laskaris? Or your daughter?”

  “I do not deny the madness sprang from my blood, but those who dismiss the Greek as lazy or only opportunistic do so at their peril. Zara was no criminal mastermind, though she was evil. Now she is dead, and the Elixir still flows through the Bosphorus. That is all I know.”

  “I am glad,” Saba said, “you did not put your own sentiment over the greater good of our race.”

  “You’re speaking of Zara?” Oleg shrugged. “She was nothing to me.”

  “She was your blood.”

  “She was nothing.”

  Saba smiled. If the fire vampire wanted to deny his connection to the malicious troublemaker, it was no business of hers. The job had been done, and Oleg had been the one to do it. She approved.

  “There may come a time when you must put the good of our race over sentiment again.”

  Oleg said, “I am a self-interested man. I do not believe in a greater good, a higher power, or a master plan for our world.”

  “Then you do not know me.”

  A smile touched the corner of Oleg’s mouth. Just a hint of one. “And I thought I was the most arrogant thing at the table.”

  Kato spoke for the first time. “It’s not arrogance.”

  Oleg opened his mouth, then closed it. He nodded at Saba and pulled his hand away from her grip.

  “Is there anything else you need of me, Baba?”

  She smiled at the title. Perhaps Oleg might win her affection after all. “Not now. But perhaps soon.”

  He bowed, lifted his head, and said, “You are the oldest and wisest of our people. I am at your service should you have need of me.”

  Oleg walked from the room, and the scent of burned spruce left with him. It wasn’t an unpleasant scent, nor was he an unpleasant man no matter what he chose to think of himself.

  Kato picked up her hand. “He’s an interesting one.”

  “He is.”

  “Did you notice the human?”

  “He paid her no notice,” Saba said. “None at all.”

  “His lack of notice was noticeable,” Kato said.

  Saba smiled and leaned against his shoulder. “You’re such a gossip, Kato.”

  “It’s hard not to be when you’ve been hearing everything secondhand for centuries.”

  “Come.” She rose and pulled him up with her. “I have an appointment with an old friend.”

  “Should I be jealous?”

  “For this? Definitely not.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Lucien leaned against the cold concrete of the hallway, listening to Baojia and Makeda’s conversation in her room. Everything was quiet. Muted. The blood they’d quickly acquired was the only sustenance she’d taken other than a little rice. Baojia had put her in one of the secure rooms belonging to the Elixir patients after he’d made sure to shield it from daylight. It was comfortable and guarded.

  Ruben eyed him with disapproval but said nothing.

  If Baojia or Makeda knew he was listening in, they didn’t give any indication of it. He cared nothing for their privacy; his interest was in Makeda.

  A week after her transformation and she had still not decided. Or if she had, she’d given no indication of it. She’d spent the first four days swinging between rage and weeping. On the fifth day, she’d allowed Baojia into her room during the night, and his presence had settled her. Her emotions were predictably unpredictable according to her sire, who had overseen the newly transformed under Ernesto Alvarez in Los Angeles. Lucien could understand why his friend would have that duty. Baojia’s quiet, steady strength would put a violently unstable new vampire at ease.

  Now she was finally speaking, and Lucien didn’t care if he was being rude.

  He had to know.

  “You’re going to have to decide soon,” Baojia said. “I don’t want to pressure you, but indecision leads to instability. Katya accepted Lucien’s and my reasoning for changing you without her approval—accidents cannot be predicted, and your life needed to be preserved—but she needs to know what your intentions are.”

  A long pause. “I’d like to speak with my parents.”

  “Katya has already informed your parents of the situation.”

  Another pause. “I see.”

  Lucien regretted that. Makeda should have been the one to decide how and when to tell her parents about her new life, but the Abel family was not under his aegis. He had no authority in the matter.

  Unless she chose him.

  The possessive need for her surprised him. Yet if she chose Baojia, he could not stop her.

  Choose me.

  “Makeda,” Baojia began, “while I do not want to influence your decision unduly, I do feel an obligation to you. You are a child of my blood. I have no claim over your loyalty per my agreement with Lucien, but whether you choose my aegis or his, I want you to know I will always consider you my child. You are part of my family. Natalie and I are in complete agreement. No matter what you decide, I want you to know that.”

  Lucien could smell her tears.

  “However much we care for you,” he continued, “I do want to explain some things.”

  “What?”

  “Lucien…” Baojia took a deep breath. “Lucien is very well-connected.”

  “I was guessing that by how he speaks to Katya.”

  “He is not under her aegis. He’s a child of the elders, which means he is very, very powerful.”

  “You’re saying his aegis would be the better choice,” Makeda said. “But my family—”

  “Your parents are under Katya’s aegis. As long as your father works for her, he will remain so, along with your immediate family.”

  “And if I choose your aegis, I’ll remain with Katya too.”

  “In a sense. But that’s not the only thing to consider.”

  Lucien often forgot about Baojia’s political savvy. Those at the top of the food chain didn’t have to think as strategically as those in the middle. Baojia, being a young vampire who had broken from his sire’s aegis, was much more adept at power plays and strategy for the simple reason that he had to be. He was still a relatively small fish in a very big pond.

  Baojia said, “I serve Katya’s organization as a choice. She has no blood tie to me. Should you choose my aegis and I leave hers for whatever r
eason, your loyalty would follow me.”

  Makeda let out a frustrated breath. “This is so complicated.”

  “Politics is an unavoidable part of your life now. I’m trying to explain what could simplify that.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Lucien.”

  A long pause. “Lucien hates me.”

  Lucien shook his head and rolled his eyes at her declaration. His feelings for Makeda were so far from hate, he had trouble sorting them in his own mind.

  Baojia said, “Lucien does not hate you.”

  “Then he really, really doesn’t like me.”

  “Whether that’s true or not doesn’t really matter,” Baojia said. “Stop thinking in decades and start thinking in centuries. Lucien has offered you his aegis. As far as I know, only two or three people in the world are under it. Do you understand what that means?”

  “Not really.”

  “It means he’s both very powerful and very independent. Vampire loyalty goes both ways. Favors go both ways. If someone owes you loyalty, you also owe them protection. If someone answers to you, they also depend on you. I come from a long and complicated line of water vampires whose blood eventually traces back to a single water vampire in the Mediterranean. One of the ancients so old he no longer remembers human life. Your blood is of that line. Any children you sire in the future will be another branch of a complicated and layered tree.”

  Loyalties in the immortal world intertwined over centuries. Lucien thought about the many humans who owed his mother allegiance. Some human clans had been serving her and her children for centuries. When you added in her immortal children and their offspring, it became even more overwhelming. He’d never be able to prove it, but Lucien suspected every vampire in the world could eventually trace their blood line back to Saba.

  She was the immortal Eve. The source of vampire life, not that she could remember how it all came to be.

  Baojia was still explaining things. “There are some advantages to a large family tree like mine. It provides many connections in our world.”

  “I don’t want politics, Baojia. I’m a scientist. All I’ve ever wanted was to do my research.” He heard her choke. “Care for my family. I can’t even see them anymore, can I?”