Kristen Painter - Forbidden Blood

Dominic arranged a few things on his bench, trying to focus on something else. “I will deal with that when it happens.”

On something else. “I will deal with that when it happens.”

He stopped moving when her hand alighted on his arm. Her burnt-sugar scent rolled over him, making his body tighten and his gums ache. She tipped her head toward him. “You’re putting yourself in danger for me.”

The softness of her voice combined with the warmth of her touch and his growing hunger made it impossible for him to think.

“Si. No. I mean…” He pulled away from her, his face shifting from human to vampire. “You have me at a disadvantage.”

“Because I ruined your dinner. Should I get Catarina?”

“No.” He turned abruptly.

Marissa made a derogatory sound. “You need blood. That’s her job. If she’s not doing it, you can return her to her house and pick another.”

“I didn’t buy her blood rights. I inherited them.” He was glad for the distraction. “Her former patron was one of my clients.”

“One that you killed?”

“One I assisted in ending his life. He included her blood rights as part of our contract.” He sighed, remembering the transaction.

He’d thought it such a good idea at the time. “Things were fine between us at first, but when she realized that I was not going to dote on her like her previous patron, showering her with gifts and taking her on every trip, she soured toward me.”

Marissa pursed her mouth. “You don’t venture out much, I take it?”

“No more than I need to. And now that my reputation has grown, I go out very little. I prefer my clients come to me. Saves me time.”

She lifted her hands and looked around. “You prefer this space to the ballrooms of the nobility?”

He raised his head. “I do. Does that make me boring?”

She smirked. “Maybe. But I don’t care for them much myself, either.” She nodded at the array of tools before him. “Do you want me to leave you alone now?”

“No. I need you here, at least for a little while.” He tapped one of the syringes. “I need a sample of your blood.” He cleared the notebooks off the top of a nearby stool and pulled it closer to the bench. “Please, sit.”

She did, rolling back the sleeve of her white tunic and exposing her arm. The overhead lighting set her signum on fire.

He stared, transfixed. “Forgive me. I’ve never seen signum this closely before. They are beautiful, aren’t they?” He cradled her arm in his hands, turning her slightly to see the marks better and savoring the heat spilling off her delicate flesh. Every inch of her was a revelation. “Is there meaning behind them?”

“You ask questions I cannot answer.” She leaned closer, enough that her warmth radiated over him. “Would you tell me how to make your potions?”

He looked up from the gilding and met her elfin gaze directly.

Was there anything he wouldn’t tell her if she asked the right questions? Each moment with her drew him deeper under her spell “Which one would you like to learn first?”

She smiled slightly. “I still cannot answer you.” She rolled her arm in his hands, exposing her naked wrist.

Not a single signum marked the skin there, leaving the pale expanse as it had been the day she was born. He stroked his finger over the spot and instantly felt as though he’d touched a part of her he had no right to. “This is…”

She finished what he could not. “Where Arnaud bites me.

Yes.”

Unfounded jealousy sprang up in Dominic. He had no license to such feelings and yet they swelled within him like wind filing a sail.

“Does that bother you?” she asked. “Thinking of Arnaud doing that to me?”

More than he cared to admit. Not that he would. He broke contact and picked up a syringe. “It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. That is his business with you and certainly none of mine.”

“Then why did your eyes go silver?” She fiddled with a nearby pestle and mortar, rolling the pestle back and forth. “A vampire’s eyes turn when they feel emotion. I’ve never known one who could control it.”

This was not a conversation that would do either of them any good. He held up a length of rubber tubing. “I need your blood.”

She stretched out her arm, watching him so intently he wanted to ask her to stop. Instead, he tied off her arm and waited for the veins to rise. It didn’t take long. He took up the syringe. “You’ll feel a pinch.”

“I’ve felt worse.”

He slid the needle in. Blood spilled into the syringe’s chamber, unctuous and deep red. The imagined taste of it caused his fangs to punch through his gums. He had to feed soon or he was going to lose control around her. He stuck a bit of cotton wool on the site and slid the needle out.

“I barely felt that. You’re very gentle.” She bent her arm, keeping the cotton in place. “What now?”

His brain was so muddled by her blood scent he didn’t know if she was deliberately provoking him or not. He chose not to look at her. “Now I see how your blood reacts with one of my existing potions. If all goes well, I’ll inject you with it.”

“And then?”

“Then we see if it works.”

She slipped off the stool and stood very close to him. “How will you know?”

Slightly frustrated by all her questions, he growled softly. “If your blood makes me impervious to sunlight.”

She stared at him, completely unfazed by his snarling. An easy, wicked smile bent her mouth. “So tomorrow morning, then?”

“Yes.” What was she playing at? Confound it, he felt like he was missing something.

“I’ll see you then. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Smile “I’ll see you then. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Smile still firmly in place, she turned and left.

The moment the door shut behind her, the laboratory stopped closing in around him, but the air remained redolent with her. He collapsed onto the stool and let his lids drop. Breathing wasn’t necessary to know the sweetness of her scent or imagine how she would taste.

His lids shot open. How she would taste. Is that why she’d been coy and smiling? Tomorrow, when he tested the serum on her, did she expect him to bite her?

Mamma mia, she must. In fact, she’d acted like she was looking forward to it.

Marissa smiled all the way back to her room. Dominic may not have come up with a plan, but she had. And it didn’t involve becoming Arnaud’s personal UV protection. Not since she’d met Dominic. He was everything Arnaud was not, including a gentleman, a word she’d never used in conjunction with a vampire before.

She discarded the cotton wool and lay back on the bed. If Dominic didn’t like her plan, he had only himself to blame for giving her an ounce of hope, a glimmer of what could be.

Somehow, she would escape Arnaud’s clutches and persuade Dominic to help her.

She just had to make him fall in love with her first. Or at least desire her deeply enough that he would come to her aid. She told herself she wasn’t using him, even though she knew that was a lie. Or part of a lie. Dominic would use her, too, for blood or for…other pleasures if that’s what it took.

But she had a child to think of. A child who didn’t even know Marissa existed. A daughter who at this very moment might be under the fangs of her own patron. If Marissa did nothing else with her life, she would find a way to rescue her daughter from the comarré life. If only her son had lived…but perhaps he was the lucky one.

It was her heart’s desire to see her daughter set free, and the only reason she’d not run from Arnaud. The break had to be clean. She couldn’t build a safe place for her daughter if she was being hunted. Because Arnaud would hunt her down, of that she was sure. No one crossed him without paying.