Blood Deep (35 page)

Two strides took father and son to a slab of stone that lay like an altar, at the edge of the circle. Miranda followed behind them, taking calming breaths. The boy did not protest as Zayan laid him gently on the stone. He just lay limply. She sensed Lukos had come to stand at her other side. Her senses were heightened; she knew his scent, but also, she just instinctively felt he was there.

As she bent to her knees on the left side of the boy, she smiled down into the child’s blank eyes. Lukos followed, behind her. His warmth whispered against her through their loose clothing. Slowly, Zayan dropped to his knees on the opposite side of the stone. She saw his hands shake slightly. It deeply touched her heart to see Zayan, who had been a battle-hardened general and a man who had known the worst betrayal, openly reveal so much loving concern for his child.

Zayan looked up and met her gaze. “Remember, Miranda. If there is danger to you, you are to stop.”

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The tremble of his hand—she realized, with a glimpse into Zayan’s thoughts—it had been for her. She held out her hand so it hovered a few inches above the boy. “Put both your hands on mine now.”

“Is there anything we should say? Any incantations?” Beneath the soft glow of the moonlight, Lukos wore the most serious expression she had seen him reveal. He had not looked so grim even when they had fought the red power.

She shook her head. “I simply touch and it happens. In all cases, I have truly wanted the child—or the person—to live.

Think of that. Think of a deep desire to bring the boy to life.”

“His name was Marc,” Zayan murmured, and he gently rested his hand atop hers. Lukos put his on last, so his hand covered Zayan’s but the tips of his fingers touched her skin.

“Marc, then.” She swallowed hard. What would it be like for Marc to open his eyes two thousand years after he last shut them?
Do not think of that,
she warned herself.
Think of joy.

Think of how he will have the chance to run again, and play,
and know his father’s embrace.

She touched her hand to Marc’s chest, over his heart.

There was no warmth this time. Her skin began to glow instead, all along her arm, in a soft, pulsating shimmer of gold.

She could see it through the white robe. The golden glow increased at their joined hands. Zayan’s grip tightened. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know. It is different—” She quickly added, “But it does not feel bad.” Instead, she felt a lightening at her heart. It was as though she was experiencing every joyous moment of her life at once.

Beneath her hand, Marc’s heart took on a strong and steady beat. She saw the twitch of this arms and legs. His eyes shut abruptly, and when the lids flickered open again, life gleamed in the deep brown eyes. The vibrant glow of life—of a soul.

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It was done, and it had not been hard at all—

Suddenly, the gold shimmer drained away down her arm. It sucked between their hands, drawing a shock of cold air behind it. The light vanished into Marc’s chest. Miranda gasped as an icy sensation gripped her everywhere.

Her fingers went numb, as did her toes. She felt as though they had become instantly brittle with the cold. She could not even shiver, she felt too frozen to even move.

“Stop it,” Lukos cried. “Take you hand away.”

But Marc had not tried to move. She could see the light in his eyes slowly extinguishing. They were losing him . . .

Zayan clutched her hand and tried to pull it up. But her power gave her the strength to fight him. “No,” she gasped. “Let me try.

I think this is a test. This is what Elizabeth meant. It takes the conviction of love to do this.”

Lukos growled in fury, but he pushed his hand down, which forced Zayan’s on top of hers and splayed her palm tightly on Marc’s chest.

Marc’s eyes opened again. Shock and surprise and fear touched his face. Then his gaze settled on Zayan, and Miranda felt a feeling of safety rush over him. He knew his father, and he knew, with Zayan, he was safe.

Miranda eased her hand up. This time, Lukos released his hand, then Zayan let hers go. Now freed, Marc struggled to sit, but before he could, Zayan lifted him into a great hug.

The cold was slowly abating. Miranda stood, shakily, and held out her hand to the small girl. Lukos held her shoulders, but Miranda whispered, “No, I am all right. Bring Zayan’s daughter to me.” Obediently, he went and carried the small girl to the stone altar. Tears were leaking down Marc’s cheeks, as Zayan stroked his hair, and he looked ashamed of them.

Until he saw the tears in his father’s eyes. And these he stared at in honest surprise.

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Zayan shook his head. “It is not the measure of a man to battle his emotions. It is a man’s strength to give his devotion to those he loves, to
reveal
his feelings and not to hide them, and to earn the reward of love.”

At the boy’s confusion, Zayan lovingly ruffled his hair, then set him down. The child cuddled against Zayan’s legs. He spoke, but Miranda could not understand the words. He was speaking a language from two thousand years ago. Zayan answered him in gentle tones. The boy stepped back.

Lukos planted a kiss on top of Zayan’s daughter’s glossy brown curls and arranged her on the stone. “She reminds me of Ara,” he said, as though an explanation was needed for that emotional touch. “She does not look like my sister, but she is . . .

I sense she is very much the same.”

“Lina,” Zayan whispered. “That is her name.”

Miranda lifted her hand, and at once the men joined her, again placing their hands over hers. Knowing what to expect took Miranda’s fear away as she felt the rush of joy, then the sudden onslaught of cold.

As Lina awoke, her face crumpled up and she began to cry.

Shock and fear, Miranda supposed, but as she moved to comfort the girl, dizziness struck her. Her strength drained away.

She slumped back, and Lukos held her. Her legs felt as though filled with feathers—with no substance or strength. She had to gasp for breath.

“Are you—” Lukos began.

“I’m fine,” she managed to speak, and her heart was slowing to a steady beat.

Zayan lifted both his children, settling his son on his right hip and his daughter on his left. Then he bent to her. Seeing such joy in his dark, silvery eyes, Miranda smiled. “Perhaps this is why we shared dreams,” she whispered. “I was meant to find you, so I could give you this.”

“You were meant to find me, because I was meant to love BLOOD DEEP / 291

you, Miranda. I’ve existed for two thousand years. Now, with you, I finally understand what it is to live.”

Before she could protest, Lukos stood and scooped her up.

He carried her in his arms.

“We have to get to shelter,” Lukos said abruptly to Zayan.

“Miranda’s cold and weak. And I don’t trust the vampire queens.

There may be a catch to this. A trick.”

She shook her head. “No, I think the trick was to have faith.

I think we’ve—we’ve done it.”

But she saw the disbelief in Lukos’s eyes. He did not believe she was safe yet.

Out of the corner of her eye, Miranda saw Zayan’s children falling into sleep, perhaps the ordeal had exhausted them too.

His son had clasped his hands to his father’s shoulder and rested his head there as his eyes shut.

His daughter had laid her head to Zayan’s chest. For a sizzling moment, her gaze held his mirror-like eyes.
I love you,
Miranda,
he murmured in her thoughts.
The children are sleeping. Once they are safely tucked into beds, I intend to show you
how explosive a love that will last forever can be.

Not alone,
Lukos added.
I intend to show you, too, my love.

“Not the nursery. I want them to share my bed tonight. I need to have them close to me.” Zayan laid his sleeping son on the enormous bed in the chamber of their borrowed manor house. Miranda stroked a stray curl from his daughter’s cheek, then drew up the crisp, white sheets and the heavily embroidered counterpane. Marc and Lina were dwarfed in the bed, but they looked adorably cozy.

Maids, easily controlled by the vampires, had fed the children treats, had found them nightclothes that had been long tucked away, had bathed the children with soap and warm water, and then had vanished upstairs to the attics.

Miranda took a deep breath. As far as she could tell, none of 292 /
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the servants had been harmed in any way. There were no bite marks to be seen on anyone’s neck. So what were Lukos and Zayan doing to feed?

Lukos spoke suddenly in her mind.
We can control our feeding because we have existed for so long. And I learned to subdue
the urge during my imprisonment. We can survive on little
blood and quickly heal the human’s wound.

She realized that like Bastien and Yannick, Jonathon and Drake, these men could be merciful to mortals. They only had to want to be.

Zayan kissed his children on their smooth, soft-as-silk foreheads, and Miranda slipped into Lukos’s bedchamber. He was sprawled on the bed, naked. And erect—his cock stood straight, arcing along his belly. His black hair fanned out around him.
I
want you, Miranda. One last time.

His words stopped her on the threshold, her hand on the door frame.
What do you mean?
The cold sensation of using her power to the extreme had faded away, but a new frostiness swept over her at his ominous words. Do you mean the prophesy?

Come, strip off your robe, and I’ll tell you.

Lukos watched as Miranda let the white silken robe puddle at her feet. She possessed a beauty that would make any mortal man believe in goddesses. The way she stood, her knees together to enhance the rounded curves of her hips, and the graceful lines of her legs—legs, he thought, that delectably went from a plump, taut rump all the way to the floor. Her naked breasts bobbed as she walked toward him. Peaked by her pink, hard nipples, they almost mesmerized him with their seductive, enticing wobble. They were so sweetly sensual, he wanted to gobble them whole.

This was all he could have with her. One more night.

He managed a smile for her.
Tonight, I’d love another peak
at your fantasies, angel. What would you want me to do?

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Even after all they’d been through, she still blushed for him.

She rested her knee on the mattress, clutched the bedpost, and turned a fetching shade of pink.

Do you want to be tied up?
He was teasing her. Savoring her for this one night.
Or would you like to have me bound again,
for your pleasure?

“No, freedom tonight,” she whispered. “No ropes or magical chains. Though I do have a rather illicit fantasy about highwaymen—”

“Highwaymen? Capturing you and ravaging you?” Zayan stood in the doorway, behind Miranda.

She gave a smile that glittered like sunlight on water. “Hmm, I suppose I have already lived that fantasy.” Melodic and filled with naughty amusement, her voice made Lukos’s cock bob and his ballocks tighten. “I’ve done rather a lot of scandalous things with both of you. I’ve even watched the two of you pleasure each other—”

Zayan flashed a grin. “I think the thought of it—the memory—is arousing her.”

“I have to agree.” The luscious smell of her juices came readily to Lukos’s heightened senses. “Perhaps you would like to watch again, angel.”

It would signify a truce between he and Zayan—a sign he believed Zayan’s claim that he had not taken Ara for Lucifer.

The vampire queens had told him that originally. After the power that he had unleashed with Zayan and Miranda, Lukos believed he knew why. The queens had fed him lies to make him and Zayan enemies, to ensure he and Zayan did not combine their power. He suspected that together they could destroy the queens. The vampire queens were accustomed to being at the top of the hierarchy of the vampire world. Only gods, goddesses, and Lucifer held greater power than the queens.

Which made him worry about what could happen to Miranda. She had incredible power, and she was joining in a three294 /
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some with two strong demons. The queens would not be happy with that. Had Elizabeth suggested they work together to defeat the
Pravus
and resurrect Zayan’s childrens as tests of their combined power?

Right now, he imagined Elizabeth, Eve, and the other queens were afraid. He suspected those witches would want to see Miranda destroyed—

“Do you not want to pleasure her, wolf?”

Zayan was prowling toward the bed, his hand wrapped around his thick shaft. Lukos had to admit he possessed a handsome cock. Not as appealing as Lukos’s long, straight rod, which was a magnificent twelve inches in length, but he could understand why Miranda’s heart raced when she looked upon it.

“Yes,” he growled in return.

“I want to be sucked,” Zayan rasped. He got onto the bed from the opposite side to their delightful angel, who licked her lips as she watched, her hand wrapped around the post and her knee resting on the bed.

“As do I. I expect it would please her to watch us suck each other at once.”

Miranda’s eyes grew wide. “Ooh, yes.”

Lukos had to laugh. Her response was so ingenuous. And his cock bobbed again as another surge of blood went into it.

God, he’d never been so hard. His fluid leaked out, and he swept it away with a rough brush of his hand. Even the smack of his palm against the straining head felt damnably good.

Zayan straddled him, so he was looking up at a pair of heavy bollocks and a long, swaying member. Their audience—Miranda—gave a gasp of delight. Lukos drank in Zayan’s scent—

vampires had a rich, clean smell, an enticingly sexual aroma. A smell that made him want to suck fiercely at Zayan’s cock.

The sudden grip of Zayan’s hot mouth around his own rigid prick made him groan in agony. Hades, it was good. The brush of fangs, the tease of firm lips, the incredible suction . . .

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