MIDNIGHT CONQUEST: Book 1 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles (13 page)

He rubbed his cheek, remembering the sting, and chuckled. Like it or not, this woman intoxicated him. The scent of roses and the sweet fragrance of her blood mingled and teased both the Hunger and his desires, a powerful—even fatal—combination which Broderick needed to secure.

He pushed aside his desire for the moment. The mystery of how she managed to manifest in the flesh was a pressing matter. Having a dream had its own questions. Vamsyrians didn’t dream—or so Rasheed and thirty years of silence during his sleep told him. And they were unlike any mortal dreams he remembered. As was the characteristic of mortal dreams, these reflected daily experiences and were fleeting. It was one thing to have a rekindled memory—she did spend a lot of time with Amice on their last stay in Stewart Glen—but to see her grown into adulthood and the dream match the reality…that was something different. This dream bordered on prophetic and was closer to waking feelings and sensations. Broderick didn’t like it.

Nor did he like her surprising connection to Angus Campbell. Broderick couldn’t put a time and place on the incident, but his experience with memories told him the encounter was recent. Angus spared Davina and did not wipe the memory from her mind, though the fogginess of the initial images made Broderick wonder if Angus had done some alterations.

“Leaving mental bread crumbs, Angus?” he mused under his breath.

He would need to feed from her. Then he would have full access to everything about her and her possible involvement with Angus, if she held anything deeper than just that encounter…such as her part in what Broderick knew to be a trap. Just as Broderick would have the information of her life in feeding from her, Angus was sure to have the same information. Which meant Angus learned Broderick had been through these parts once before, and now Broderick was sure who the lair belonged to. The time had come for his revenge. Broderick was ready.

But he had to tread with caution. Broderick wanted the advantage over his enemy, not to get sucked into his trap.

He nodded and gulped from his tankard. Pursuing Davina would be a dangerous challenge indeed, and Broderick never stepped down from a challenge. Davina would be a delight to explore while Broderick let Angus think he’d fallen for the bait. And the sooner he explored her, the better.

* * * * *

Davina pulled her knees to her chest and rubbed her palm in the flickering light of the bedside candle. Sleep would be fleeting this night, so Davina waited for Rosselyn to bring the chamomile tea she promised. The softly glowing embers in the hearth provided no illumination in the room at this distance, but did their job at keeping the cold outside at bay. Staring at her palm in the candlelight, she reflected on the powerful man who held her hand with his fiery touch. She could still smell the spicy oil upon her skin, stirring the memories of his penetrating emerald eyes and roguish smile. Her face flushed at the possibility he’d read her mind when she pictured herself beneath his body, in a wanton display of pleasure. Considering the other intimate things this stranger told her, that embarrassing probability loomed over her and her cheeks grew hot.

A subtle stirring of the curtains at the outside landing of her chamber drew Davina’s eyes for just a moment, distracting her thoughts. A small gust of wind through the cracks in the double doors, no doubt. Hugging her covers closer around her body against the invading draft, she turned her palm into the light once more, as he had, and traced the lines he traced with his finger. How could he read the marks on her hand? The creases and scrawls slashing over the surface of her skin made no sense at all, and they blurred as she continued to stare at them through her building tears. She covered her eyes and fought to keep control over her emotions.
He doesn’t remember me!

Broderick stood on the landing outside. He hoped she was asleep, giving him the opportunity to feed from her and delve into her dreams for information. No such luck—she was awake. Not impossible, but would require more manipulation. Davina’s thoughts drifted into the air like mist, where he could only catch a word or two, or some distant feelings of regret and sadness. Broderick stole into her chamber, moving unseen into the shadows, to get closer.

He doesn’t remember me!
her mind said.

Aye, by being this close, he could hear her thoughts much better.

Perhaps he didn’t have to feed. Taking advantage of this situation, she wouldn’t be guarding the musings of her mind, thinking she was alone in her own chamber. He would catch her off guard and confirm his suspicions. If that didn’t work, he would feed.

From the concealing shadow of the tall armoire just inside the doorway, Broderick observed Davina. She shook her head as she stared into her palm. Broderick closed his eyes to catch the images of her imagination. Without actually touching her, those only came in flashes, like lightning illuminating an object in the darkness. He saw a version of himself in her mind, first standing as she came into the fortune-telling tent, then surprise on his face, which transformed into recognition and relief. In these unfolding flashes of her fantasy, he held Davina in his arms, showering her face with kisses, professing how much he had missed her and how he would never let her go.

Bitter laughter whispered out of Davina’s mouth.
Of course he doesn’t remember me. Nine years have passed—nine long years of him traveling the lands, meeting countless people, reading an endless amount of fortunes. He must have read the palms of a thousand young, love-struck girls like me. What makes me any different? Fool! How I wish he never came back. At least I would still have my fantasies in one piece!

Broderick felt a measure of frustration and embarrassment emanate from Davina as she relived their recent meeting in the tent. Davina’s view of the lustful and teasing encounter did not sit well with Broderick. Through the flashes of her memories and emotions, he saw himself as an aggressive rogue, taking liberties with her, acting like a hungry animal, pouncing on her at the first opportunity, treating her like some common wench, and then laughing at her. He had been so wrapped up in his initial shock of seeing her manifest in the flesh, in his own physical response to her, and then, more dramatically, the visions of Angus in her memories. How Broderick appeared to her was the furthest thought from his mind at that time. And here he stood, sneaking into her private bedchamber, embodying the animal she perceived him to be. Pushing down his rising shame, he reminded himself why he stood in the shadows of her room—to get information. These matters were trivial in comparison to preventing Angus from gaining the upper hand. He would bide until she settled into a peaceful sleep and do has he originally intended.

Davina punched her pillow before settling down under the covers. “Bastard Gypsy!”

An uncontrollable chuckle fluttered from his mouth. She sat up in bed, clutching her bedspread to her throat.
Damn, now I have to come out.
He sighed. “My word,” he said, surprised at the deep resonance of his voice echoing through her chamber. “I’m flattered I haunt you so, milady.”

“Like an unwanted specter!” she hissed.

Broderick stepped out of the shadows and into the dim candlelight, bowed before her and stood, crossing his arms over his chest in a stance he hoped appeared casual. Her eyes roamed over his body, leaving a trail of heat in its wake, and Broderick’s lips parted with an intake of breath. The mixture of desire and fear in her eyes stirred Broderick’s loins, and he adjusted his sporran, grateful it covered his groin.

With that candlelight glowing in his eyes, Lucifer himself would envy the Gypsy’s form,
Davina marveled.
Only the Dark Lord would come forth in the most pleasing form to seduce and entice me into giving away my very soul.

The corner of Broderick’s mouth turned up in amusement at how she perceived him. Davina was both afraid and enticed by him, so he would have to do what he could to quell the fear and heighten the seduction. A delightful shiver ran through his body and he sauntered over to her bed. A combination of panic and titillation radiated from Davina, and she brought her legs under her, assuming the position to leap at any moment. He stopped at the head post of her bed and leaned against it, keeping his arms crossed. The wooden structure groaned from his weight, but did nothing else.

“Get out,” she said, not at all convincing.

He raised an eyebrow and let his eyes roam down her form, his smile widening. He stood just out of reach, so close to her body, clad only in her thin night dress—like the one she wore in his dream—the scent of roses and her blood teasing his desire, the heat of her body caressing his skin over the distance. She hugged her blankets closer in defense and shrank back from his intense gaze. Broderick chuckled, an almost evil sound he regretted hearing.

“Get out of my bedchamber,” she said, sounding a little more determined.

“I offer a sincere apology at my brutal behavior earlier. I hoped you and I could continue our conversation in the privacy of a more peaceful setting.” He glanced around the room. “‘Tis a lovely bedchamber.” He sat on her bedside.

The desire pulsing from her body betrayed her wide-eyed astonishment. “Just who in hell do you think—”

“
Tsk, tsk
, milady,” he scolded. “What foul language coming from such a tempting mouth.” Broderick admired her lips, full and slightly parted with surprise, and the heat increased between his legs. “Let us forego the charade. ‘Tis obvious you desire me.” He sent a wave of peaceful influence toward her and saw her visibly relax by a small margin. As he learned in the tent, the change must be gradual for her not to resist the seduction.

Davina scooted away from him, trying to take her bedcovers with her, but unable to pull them from under his demanding weight. She huffed and frowned. “You are arrogant to think I want anything to do with you.” Davina deeply inhaled through her nose. Her mouth dropped open. “‘Tis drunk you are!”

Fear filled her eyes and the peace he’d sent her vanished. He concentrated on sending another wave, which she responded to, much to his relief.

Another flutter of laughter rumbled from his chest. “Hardly drunk, but I have been drinking.” He trailed his fingertip down the length of her arm, giving himself the opportunity to touch her, thereby increasing his immortal influence. She shivered and more of the fear melted away. “You forget, the mystic gifts I possess tell me otherwise. I can sense your desire, milady.”

As he closed in, Davina threw a pillow at his face and pushed away. Yet within an instant, Broderick had her back on the bed, pressed beneath his thigh and arm. She struggled to break free, but gained no purchase against him. As he positioned his body over her, he nuzzled her hair away from her ear with his nose and breathed in her scent and warmth, sending more waves of peace and adding to his influence, currents of desire.

A retaliating flood of fear pulsed from her, and a menacing face of some unknown man flashed, before her mind closed like a trap. “Oh, dear God,” she whispered. “Please, harm me not.”

Broderick eased down beside her, his leg and arm still holding her to the bed, and stared at her face, her eyes closed tight. She imitated a child trying to wish away a nightmare, reminding him of the freckle-faced lass of his dream. The peaceful seduction he tried to wrap around her faltered under the fear she experienced. His eyebrows knit together and he touched her face. His palm resting against the warmth of her cheek, he brushed his thumb over her full, trembling bottom lip. She shrank from his touch and Broderick felt a stab of regret in his heart. He pulled his leg and arm from her. “Who has taught you to fear such contact?”

Davina pushed out of his embrace and fetched her robe from the settee. Donning the garment for protection, she faced him across the room, her pose regal and defensive. “Are you so audacious and absurd to think I would leap at the opportunity to bed you, after you stole into my private chambers uninvited?” Her voice trembled, and Broderick could feel her efforts at maintaining a strong façade. “You, sir, are not welcome here. Remove yourself at once.” She gave him a final nod to secure her position on the matter.

Broderick rose from the bed, not at all pleased with this outcome. His muscles tensed as he stalked toward her across the room, ready to do what he hoped he didn’t have to. Davina gawked at the ethereal presence he emulated. She stood mesmerized by his actions until he stopped in front of her, his body so close he could feel her warmth. When she stepped back to avoid him, his hands grasped her shoulders, keeping her in place. His gaze locked with hers, he tried one last time to delve into her mind for what he wanted. Nothing. Blackness. A void.

He would have to feed from her.

Closing his eyes, he sent waves of influence, charming her senses. He caressed his lips against her cheek and drew her into his breath. The scent of this woman—a mixture of her blood, her womanly essence and the rose oil she wore—made him drunk with desire. He kissed his mouth over her skin to touch the tip of his tongue against the sweet shell of her ear. The pulsing of her heart, strong and rapid, matched the panting of her breath and pounded against his senses. She moaned and pressed her palms to his chest. The notion of tasting the nectar running through her veins ignited the Hunger and the familiar pain shot across his gums as his fangs extended and his mouth watered.