Samantha nodded and turned away from the door. The sensation of leaving the conservatory, however, felt like fingers drifting off her arms slowly and reluctantly. For whatever reason, she didn’t want to leave.

When he showed her to her guest suite, she was bowled over by the sheer size of the space. He moved into the room and turned the light on for her, though he winced a little as he looked away.

She could have put two of her bedrooms in this one room and the bed itself had to be king-sized.

She released a deep sigh. For all the weirdness of the night, the one thing she felt right now, besides a sudden overwhelming fatigue, was that she felt safe. “Thank you, Ethan. You didn’t have to do any of this for me.”

He settled her bag on the upholstered bench at the foot of the bed. But he looked so surprised, with his brows high on his forehead and his lips parted, that she said, “What?”

“Of course I did. You’re my guest. But I think I know what you mean.” He sighed. “And I’m grateful you came with me, when you didn’t have to.”

“Oh, yes, I did. Ry is one sick nutcake.”

At that he laughed, showing his beautiful smile and all those big white teeth of his. He was a gorgeous man, prettier than he ought to be, and he smelled wonderful, those rich hillside grasses again.

“Well, at least we agree on that.” He held her gaze tight to his and there it was all over again, a need for him so profound it was like having the wind knocked out of her, but she held steady.

“Yeah, we agree on that.”

She stood near the foot of the bed unable to move and her brain had stopped functioning because she really couldn’t think of anything else to say.

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He seemed to understand. He looked away from her and cleared his throat. “Can I get you anything?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you. I think all I need right now is some sleep.”

“I’m sure you do.”

He moved past her, heading to the door. He gestured to a long bank of floor-to-ceiling drapes patterned in a soft gray swirl. “The conservatory is right there. Feel free to open the sliding door if you want.” He smiled again, softer this time. “Maybe the ‘singing’ will sweeten your dreams.”

“Thanks, I might just do that.”

He nodded. “Anything, Samantha. Really. Just ask.” Through the open doorway, he glanced down the hall. “My rooms are the double door at the end of the hall. Shout. I’ll hear you.”

She dipped her chin a few times.

“Okay,” he murmured, slapping the doorframe twice. He then closed the door and she heard his muffled footsteps as he headed back the way they’d come. No doubt he had more realm business to tend to.

She put a hand to her chest, however, aware of her laboring heart. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I know. But try to calm down. He’s just a man. I mean a vampire.” Then she laughed, because it was all so strange, and horrible, yet wonderful at the same time.

She hadn’t expected an adventure when she left for the prave earlier that evening, but it looked like she’d gotten one.

*** *** ***

Ethan rubbed his forehead as he moved back down the first set of stairs then headed into his office. He glanced at some notes he’d made that afternoon about realm details he needed to deal with, especially issues with some of the towns and cities. But now was not the time.

Instead, he called Finn.

“How we doin’ out there?”

“Quiet. Very quiet.”

Ethan could hear the concern in Finn’s voice. Invictus activity made the night hard, but the lack of it wore on all the Guardsmen’s nerves. A lull never meant good things, usually a serious gearing up for something big.

“Well, shit.”

“Ethan, you don’t think Ry would join forces with those bastards, do you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never really known him, just his rage because the Sidhe Council voted him out and me in.”

“You’re the better man and don’t you forget it. There isn’t a vampire on the force who won’t cheer that’s he’s gone. You can count on that. Should have been done a couple of decades ago.”

“I never felt right about stepping in. This was his realm.”

“I’m not going to waste time arguing with you on that score again. You’re the vampire for this job.”

Ethan sat in his leather chair and released a heavy sigh. “Yet I can’t seem to get the better of the enemy that we’ve battled all these years, these decades. We dispatch hundreds of wraith-pairs every year and bury twice as many realm-folk. Does that make me the better leader?”

“It was worse under Ry. And he’d been running three illegal gambling joints as well.”

“Small comfort.”

“So how’s your woman?”

“Not my woman, Finn, and if you want to keep your front teeth and a pair of fangs, you’ll keep your trap shut.”

Finn chuckled. “Just giving you grief.”

“Hey, thanks for showing up tonight.”

“Within a half hour of leaving you, I’d gotten word that Ry had abandoned his northern patrol.”

“Well, I was glad to have witnesses for giving Ry the boot.”

“It was a pretty sight, but how are those precious knuckles of yours?”

Ethan looked at his hands. He was already healed up, despite his blood-starvation. “Content.”

Finn cleared his throat. “Just one suggestion, though.”

“What’s that?”

“Call a donor. You were looking pale when I left.”

“You my mama now?”

“You know I’m right.”

Ethan did know, but the thought of bringing in one of his doneuses with Samantha in his house felt like a kind of betrayal he couldn’t easily explain. “Call me if you need me.”

“Yes, mastyr.”

After ending the call, Ethan sat for a good long while in his office. He took stock of his condition and he didn’t like what he saw, what he felt.

Earlier, Samantha had said he was trembling. At the time, he thought her presence had brought on the strange sensation. But the truth bit deeper. His blood-starvation, always at a difficult level, had sunk to critical and the earlier donor had barely scratched the surface of his need. Sure, his mastyr status kept him in this chronic, undernourished state, but usually a feed would keep him stable for twelve, sometimes eighteen hours.

He lifted his hand off the arm of the chair.




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