Edwina stayed busy at the huge, stainless steel, restaurant quality stove and offered, “It’s no bother. I’ll make whatever you like.”

  Finally I turned to Lucien, “What would you like me to eat, darling?”

  Lucien’s gaze locked with mine but he didn’t speak. I tried to keep my face attentive and expectant like his decision on my morning meal was the reason for my being.

  Finally he enquired, “Do you like poached eggs?”

  “Do you want me to like poached eggs?” I returned on a breathy exhale.

  “I want you to tell me if you like poached eggs,” he retorted.

  We had a short staring contest but his black eyes were too much for me and I turned away.

  “I like poached eggs,” I replied demurely.

  Lucien looked at Edwina. “She’ll have poached eggs.”

  Edwina’s gaze was drifting back and forth between Lucien and me. Then she bit her lip (and I could swear it was to hide a smile) and turned back to the stove.

  Lucien took a sip of his coffee. I watched him under my lashes as I took a sip from mine.

  “The grocery list is on the counter, dear, right in front of you.” Edwina was saying. “I have Saturday and Sunday afternoons off as well as all day Monday. So anything you want to cook or have in the house, write it down. I’m going to the store after breakfast.”

  I was wondering if they sold gallon jugs of gasoline at the grocery store (or flame throwers) when Lucien walked to the sink, poured out his coffee and walked to the coffeemaker.

  I just stopped myself from grinning.

  Edwina stared at him in horror, a stainless steel spoon any television chef would give one of their kidneys for held aloft. “Is it too weak?”

  Lucien poured himself another cup. “It’s fine. But Leah has a heavy hand with the sugar.”

  “Oh dear, I didn’t do it right?” I chirped, sounding devastated, like someone ran over the beloved cat that I’d had since childhood.

  Lucien turned to me. “Do you remember what your behavior bought you when you disobeyed me?”

  Oh I remembered all right.

  Boy did I remember.

  I clenched my teeth and nodded my head once.

  “You could get more of that before breakfast,” Lucien went on. “Would you like that?”

  Lucien turning me on to the point my body screamed for release and then leaving me wanting?

  No. I didn’t want that.

  I shook my head.

  He calmly took a sip of his coffee.

  Edwina thankfully pretended she hadn’t heard a thing.

  I pulled the grocery list to me and started to read it.

  All of a sudden I felt Lucien behind me, the heat from his chest against my back as he leaned over me.

  I detested a lot of things about him. His recent behavior was one shining example. When he went all nearly breaking the sound barrier vampire was another.

  “Tonight, I want you to make your fried chicken for me,” he ordered. My mind cleared of the latest Humiliating Lucien Encounter and I twisted my neck to look up at him, dumbfounded.

  “What?”

  His eyes caught mine. “Your fried chicken.”

  My fried chicken?

  I did, of course, make great fried chicken. The best. It was one of my only real talents.

  But how the hell would he know that?

  A weird chill ran up my spine.

  “How do you know about my fried chicken?” I whispered.

  His chin motioned to the pad of paper on the table and he didn’t answer my question.

  Instead he commanded, “Put the ingredients down.”

  “How do you –?”

  “Just write down the ingredients, Leah.”

  I gaped at him.

  Then I considered my recipe, which required at least overnight marinating of the chicken in my famous buttermilk marinade.

  It wouldn’t be near as good without time to marinade.

  “I can’t,” I told him.

  His eyes narrowed.

  “No, really, I can’t. It’s the marinade. It needs at least…” I looked at the clock on the microwave, it was nearly ten, “eight hours of marinading!” My voice was rising dramatically but what could I say? I had a fried chicken reputation to keep up. Every woman knew how important that was. “And even that isn’t optimal. Anything less just isn’t worth it. I don’t even have eight hours!”

  He grinned, I caught it close up and my heart skipped.

  But he was relentless. “Put the ingredients down.”

  “Lucien!”

  “You can make it for me tomorrow night.”

  Oh. Right.

  Tomorrow night would give me plenty of time. I could do that.

  I wrote the ingredients down.

  Edwina served up poached eggs on toast with crisp fried bacon. Lucien had three eggs. I had only two. I wanted to ask for another egg (or two), seeing as I was still on course to gain as much weight as possible to turn Lucien off my “beautiful body” but I felt I’d tried his patience enough for one morning.

  He sat beside me and we ate while Edwina tidied the kitchen and I wrote stuff down on the grocery list. I omitted the flame thrower. When the laptop in the bedroom had broadband, something I discovered the day before it didn’t, I’d see if I could order one online.

  Edwina whisked the plates out from under us when we were done, rinsed them, put them in the dishwasher and did a rub down of all the countertops while Lucien and I sipped at our final drops of coffee.

  It was weird having a housekeeper.

  It was even weirder living in a rambling mansion in the middle of nowhere.

  In my ex-life I lived in a two bedroom condo in the city and although I didn’t do too badly career-wise, I didn’t have a housekeeper. I had been a Media Specialist, a field in which I’d never get a job again considering I gave them two whole days notice. Though I didn’t have to worry about that since Lucien would be taking care of me for the rest of my natural born life, something else that sucked.

  My condo was excellently situated. I could walk anywhere to get anything I needed. Bars, takeaway pizza, movie theaters, grocery stores. My condo had enough room not to feel like I lived in a cave but not too much where it would take all weekend to clean or I could accumulate too much stuff which I had a habit of doing.

  Luckily, although Edwina was a bit strange, I liked her and her living with me made the big house seem less monstrous.

  Still, I missed my little place. I’d lived there for ten years. I’d made every inch of it mine.

  I liked it.

  On that thought, I heard the backdoor close heralding Edwina’s departure (further heralded by her calling out “good-bye”), and I came back to the room.

  “Time for your lesson, pet.”

  I looked at Lucien in time for him to take my hand. He pulled me off the stool and walked me to the comfy seating area. With me standing in front of him, he sat on the big, fluffy couch then grabbed my hips, pulling me off my feet. He fell to the side, twisted to his back with me on top, partially falling off his side, my back to the back of the couch.

  Why we needed to be lying pressed together on the couch for my lesson, I didn’t know.

  Obedient Leah also didn’t ask even though she wanted to.

  I just looked at him expectantly like whatever wisdom he was about to share would soothe my savaged soul.

  His eyes roamed my face.

  Then he whispered, “You’re adorable.”

  Not that again. I was trying to be annoying. It just wasn’t working.

  “My lesson?” I prompted.

  He smiled.

  My heart skipped another beat.

  His smile grew arrogant.

  With effort I contained my frustrated growl.

  He burst out laughing, his arms closed around me and he hugged me close.

  “Are we going to hug or are you going to teach me vampire knowledge?” I asked, trying not to sound as annoye
d as I was.

  “We’re going to do both,” he replied, his arms loosening but not letting go.

  Whatever.

  I lifted my head again and looked at him. His eyes caught mine.

  “Feeding,” he started and my ears perked up because I was interested in spite of myself. “Do you remember the other night when I kissed you and your mouth tingled?”

  I nodded.

  “That was the anesthesia,” he explained. “It releases when my body prepares to feed. If I’d kissed you harder, longer, more frequently, your mouth would have gone numb.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. He was a good kisser and if my mouth was numb I’d miss all the fun.

  He kept talking. “Also, when my body prepares to feed, the healing properties in my saliva release. They permeate your skin when I prepare it for the wound and they infiltrate the wound while I’m feeding so it’s healing even as I feed.”

  As with all things vampire, this made sense so I nodded again.

  Lucien continued, “Those healing properties stay in your bloodstream. They help your blood regenerate. Even after your first bloodletting, they were working. No mortal could have lost that much blood without a transfusion but after a couple of days rest, you were back to normal. The longer I feed, the more healing agents are released into your bloodstream, the quicker you recover. In a week, I can feed once a day. In two, I can feed more than once a day. In three weeks, I can feed whenever I like.”

  This also made sense.

  However, I was stuck on the idea of him feeding whenever he liked.

  “How much do you need to feed?” I asked.

  “The same as anyone. Three times a day.”

  I felt my eyes grow wide and my lips part. Through my shock, I also saw his gaze scan my face and for some reason his face gentled when he caught sight of my expression.

  “Food, the food you eat, gives me nourishment,” he went on to explain. “Just as it does for you, and my body needs it, just as yours does. However, the nutrients in mortal’s food aren’t near enough to sustain my body’s energy, to keep it functioning. Therefore, I need something more.”

  “But you’re feeding every other day,” I whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you saying that, right now, you’re fasting for more than a day?”

  “Yes.”

  Oh my God!

  I’d tried fasting when I was on some crazy diet years ago. I couldn’t last until dinner. I couldn’t imagine going for more than a day!

  “Are you hungry?” I asked.

  “Not as much as when I fasted for a week but yes, I am.”

  I couldn’t believe this. “I don’t understand. Why would the rules do this to vampires when they change concubines?”

  “The rules only state I can’t feed between the release of one and the initiation of another. Once you’re initiated, I’m free to attend Feasts.”

  I felt my stomach twist at the idea of Lucien going to A Feast. Feeding on some random mortal. Touching her. Making her feel what he made me feel. Giving her what he gave me (before he took it away).

  But last night at The Feast, he didn’t feed.

  I swallowed hard before asking, “Are you going to Feasts, um, in between –?”

  “Normally, I would, however, with you I haven’t.”

  “Why?”

  His arms gave me a squeeze. “If you taste the finest wine, Leah, you want another glass and if it takes a while to get it you’re content to wait. You don’t switch to lemonade no matter how sweet that lemonade might be or how thirsty you may get.”

  It was the weirdest compliment I’d ever been given.

  It was also, somehow, the most profound.

  I really didn’t know how to respond so I said, “Oh.”

  His hand slid up my back and started to play with my hair. “There’s more.”

  I tilted my head to the side, trying not to dislodge his hand from my hair. I knew I shouldn’t like him playing with my hair but I did.

  He went on, “As time passes and the healing properties stay in your bloodstream, they do other things to you as well.”

  I felt my body tense. “Like what?”

  “It takes a while, years, but they’ll start regenerating your body, your organs, your skin, your hair, everything. They help you fight off infection. They help any injury you should sustain to heal swiftly. They even ward off disease. It’s more but, to put it simply, in essence, you’ll be aging backward.”

  At his words, I gasped. Finally, a bonus for being a concubine!

  “You’re joking,” I breathed but I hoped he wasn’t.

  “No. For it to happen, a vampire has to keep his concubine for some time and feed regularly. It takes at least a year before this process begins, sometimes two or even three.” His eyes locked on mine and he asked, “Didn’t you ever wonder why your mother and aunts look so much younger than they really are?”

  I just thought it was the strict skincare regime they forced on my sister and me and all the cousins. I had no idea it was vampire saliva regeneration.

  How weird.

  How cool!

  He must have read my face because he chuckled. “I see you like that.”

  I couldn’t hide my exuberant response. “What’s not to like?”

  His chuckle stopped but his handsome grin stayed in place as his hand twisted possessively in my hair.

  “Nothing. There’s absolutely nothing not to like,” he murmured.

  I didn’t know for certain what he was referring to but I felt it essential to stay on target. I was liking this lesson, liking it a lot.

  “How much age will I lose?”

  “That depends on how long our Arrangement lasts, how much I feed. It’s important to note the healing heals. It doesn’t start a regression to childhood. It doesn’t undo growth or mental capacity. You’ll lose years of cell and organ aging, maybe more. But you’ll always be an adult.”

  This was getting better and better. I didn’t exactly want to go back to my teen years. They sucked enough the first time.

  He slid out from under me and to his side so we were face-to-face. I caught his expression and it had grown serious.

  “Before The Revolution,” he paused and asked, “Did you at least learn about The Revolution before you were expelled?”

  I had. The Vampire Revolution was where this concubine business, and the rules and laws that governed vampires, all started, which was pretty much where the Vampire Studies syllabus started.

  In a nutshell, in 1665 the vampires revolted in a bloody, yearlong (and then some) battle which was almost fully contained in London. History knew it as The Great Plague which was a story Parliament, King Charles II and The Vampire Dominion agreed would be spread. It was, instead, vampires fighting their own, an offshoot vampire sect who had allied themselves with mortals. I was fuzzy on the details of why the vampires revolted but they did and it wasn’t a pretty scene.

  The offshoot sect won.

  The Great Fire of London didn’t herald the end of the plague. It was an enormous vampire execution that got out of hand and burned down a lot of London. It also heralded the official end of The Vampire Revolution and the beginning of the Terms of Agreement between Immortal and Mortal.

  “Yes,” I answered Lucien’s question.

  He pulled me closer and his voice dipped lower. “Before The Revolution, it wasn’t unusual for vampires to take mortal mates.”

  This was shocking news as another thing I’d caught in the moments I paid attention in class was that vampires mated, as in pledged their troth, with vampires, period, dot, the end. Not mortals. Never.

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How did that work, considering vampires are immortal? I mean, it would stink to be forever young and your partner…” I trailed off and my eyes grew wide.

  He noticed my dawning comprehension and pulled me even closer. “That’s right, Leah. Back then it wasn’t unusual for vampire
s to keep their mortal mates alive for centuries. The healing is strong and, if constant, meant a vastly elongated life for the mortal, even going so far as making a mortal immortal should it have continued indefinitely. If feeding ceased, it would take years before the properties were fully expunged from the mortal’s system, they wouldn’t age for some time. Once they did, their normal aging process would begin again as usual.”

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, overwhelmed by this stunning news.

  Lucien ignored my reaction and kept with his lesson. “After The Revolution, The Immortal and Mortal Agreement prohibited inter-cultural unions. All vampires who had them where ordered to release their mortal mates.”

  I stared at him in renewed, now horrified, astonishment.

  I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t imagine being with someone, maybe for centuries, and all of a sudden being forced to part.

  Something about this made tears sting my eyes. “That’s terrible.”

  “It was,” he murmured, his tone stating eloquently that he agreed. “It also didn’t go over very well. All of them refused. Thus began The Hunt, which is an ugly piece of our history they don’t teach you in class.”

  I didn’t think I wanted to know.

  Lucien told me anyway. “All vampires and their mortal mates were hunted. Every last one. When caught, they were tortured until they denounced the relationship. If they didn’t, which was most often the case, they were executed.”

  I couldn’t process this. It was too hideous.

  “Both of them?” I breathed.

  He shook his head but answered, “Sometimes, yes. Sometimes it was just the vampire, other times, it was the mortal.”

  The tears in my eyes clogged my throat and I forced them down in a painful swallow.

  Lucien continued, “It has served for centuries as a powerful lesson to any vampire who might wish to cross that line.”

  As it would!

  “I don’t like this lesson,” I whispered.

  “It isn’t a nice lesson, pet,” he agreed.

  “I don’t understand why they did that!” I returned hotly. “Why would they do that?”

  “Survival of the species, both mine and yours. We can’t survive without you. And a vampire and mortal cannot procreate. Further, at the time, vampires hunted for their food. Mortals were prey, literally, and vampires were feared greatly. For millennia, vampires lived underground, not out in the open, many mortals didn’t even believe in us. We were considered unreal monsters, too vile to allow the fragile mortal mind to believe existed. It was in a time where many fed without stopping, leaving their victims dead, so there was a great deal to fear. We were largely nocturnal. We were entirely predators and most were highly content with this life.”