Susan Krinard - Nightmaster

“You were just with him, weren’t you?” Trinity asked, feigning naive curiosity. “Was he different than usual?”

Ares’s Favorite almost permitted a scowl to twist her full red lips, but she covered her anger quickly. “He was...very energetic, shall we say,” she said. “Hot-blooded, to use a human expression.”

“I always heard Nightsiders were insatiable,” Trinity said, swallowing nervously for effect.

“Ares is a good lover. Very considerate for an Opir. Enjoy it while you can.”

Elizabeth had said nearly the same thing earlier, but somehow Trinity didn’t think that Cassandra meant it in quite the same way.

“You mean he’ll get tired of me?” she asked.

“It depends on what he wants you for. I’ve been his Favorite for three years.” She smiled unpleasantly. “I don’t expect that to change anytime soon.”

“Then why are you worried about me?”

“Worried?” Cassandra stroked her long, graceful neck, running her perfectly manicured nails over a set of small red marks that had almost healed. “Did I give you that impression?”

Trinity knew she’d made a mistake in resorting to sarcasm. “No,” she said. “Not at all.”

“I’m sure things will settle down again very soon,” Cassandra said, favoring Trinity with another false smile, “and once Ares is done with you, you’ll be given some task in the Household that will make you content, like everyone else here.”

“I hope so,” Trinity said. She gazed up at Cassandra like a lost puppy. “Maybe you could show me around when you’re not busy.”

Cassandra yawned behind her hand. “I’d love to help you, Trinity, but I’m on call twenty-four hours a day. I doubt I’ll have the energy.”

In spite of herself, Trinity felt a little sorry for the woman. She suspected that Cassandra’s sense of self came entirely from being the Favorite of Ares’s Household.

But pity couldn’t distract Trinity from her mission, and she quickly brushed it aside. “I understand,” she mumbled, looking down at the floor.

Cassandra placed a slender hand on Trinity’s shoulder. “Just give yourself a little time to adjust, and don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Thank you,” Trinity said, laying her hand on top of Cassandra’s. “I think I won’t find it quite as difficult now.”

“I’m glad my little visit was of some help to you.” Cassandra glided to the door and turned around again. “Just remember, Trinity...it’s very important to remember your place. It won’t be so easy if you make enemies of your fellow servants.”

“Yes,” Trinity said. “Elizabeth said—”

“Cassandra.”

The voice was unmistakably Ares’s, and he was standing somewhere very close to the door. Cassandra started, and her confident attitude changed to one of uncertainty and fear.

Not of Ares, Trinity was sure. It was the fear that came from being caught doing something forbidden.

“Why are you here?” Ares asked, still out of Trinity’s sight.

“I only came to welcome the new serf, my lord,” Cassandra said, moving from the doorway.

“She was to rest,” Ares said, a trace of anger in his voice. “Go to your room.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Trinity heard Cassandra’s soft footsteps retreating, and then Ares was filling the doorframe, a dark silhouette with eyes that seemed to pin Trinity to the spot. He wore a long, deep blue tunic, and his hair was loose around his broad shoulders.

He entered the room and strode to her side. “Are you well now?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, averting her gaze. “Much better. Thank you, my lord.”

He took her chin in his hand and drew her head up. “What is this new humility? It doesn’t suit you.”

Trinity shivered at the touch of his hand, the nearness of his body, the clear evidence that he was very much aroused. He’d just been “served” by Cassandra, but it was obvious that he was far from satisfied.

His desire still seemed at odds with his normally cool, controlled demeanor, but she’d seen just how much he could change from one moment to the next.

“Should I resist you, my lord?” she said, meeting his gaze. “Is that what you want me to do?”

He released her chin and stepped back. “When you have bathed and receive proper attire,” he said, “you will join me in my apartments. I shall see if you are worth the trouble it took to win you.”

Chapter 5

Trinity struggled to contain her sudden rush of desire, the moist heat between her thighs, the pounding of her heart.

She kept her face averted, praying Ares couldn’t detect her inner thoughts. It seemed impossible that she should welcome his touch, especially because such feelings on her part went well beyond the scope of her mission.

Still, she couldn’t keep pretending these feelings didn’t exist. Fighting them would only expend energy she couldn’t afford to waste.

And she needed him to trust her, to talk with her, to allow her freedom in the Household. When she “surrendered” to Ares, her attraction would seem all the more genuine. She’d be able to concentrate on the work that was of the utmost importance.

She met his gaze. “I will be honored to serve you in any way, my lord,” she said.

“Will you? Even after what I did to you?”

He meant the kiss, she thought. As if he still felt badly about it. Even guilty.

Surely that wasn’t possible.

“What must I do to prove myself?” she asked.

With a sharp, almost clumsy motion, he turned away. “Have you eaten?”

“I was told a tray would be brought here for me.”

“And clothing?”

“The same.”

“Then I will leave you.” He walked out the door with a single, smoldering glance over his shoulder.

Trinity’s mouth was dry, and her breath seemed to burn in her lungs. She quickly found the shower and removed her shift, intensely aware of her body, even more so than when Palemon had forced her to strip. Her breasts were tender, her nipples hard, her legs trembling.

She turned on the water, adjusting it to the coldest setting. But as soon as she began to lather her body with the sweet-smelling liquid in the dispenser, her imagination began to kick into overdrive. She felt hands caressing her breasts, teasing her nipples, working the soap into her stomach and lower regions. She felt the hand slip between her thighs, sliding into her natural wetness.

Ares’s hands. And his lips grazing her neck. His teeth...

Trinity half stumbled out of the shower and snatched at the towel hanging from a rack set into the wall. She rubbed herself furiously, removing every last drop of moisture from her body. Then she dragged on her shift and sat on the bed, closing her eyes and focusing on regaining her equilibrium.

When a young serf knocked on her door to deliver a tray of fresh, fragrant food, Trinity ate it as if she had an appetite. Soon afterward, Abbie arrived with a gown: a simple, floor-length, amethyst silk slit to the thigh and cut low in the neckline, though not as low as Cassandra’s. Trinity allowed the tailor to help her put it on. There were no undergarments to mar the clean lines of the gown or disturb the liquid caress of the silk gliding over her skin.

Elizabeth arrived just as Abbie was leaving. The two women exchanged a few brief words in the hall, and then the older woman came into the room. She looked Trinity over with obvious appreciation.

“I don’t know what to say,” she said. “Abbie has outdone herself this time....” She hesitated. “Are you all right, Trinity?”

“I’m fine,” she said with a look of carefully constructed tranquility. “I’m ready.”

Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m afraid we really haven’t been of much help to you,” she said slowly. “But I want to make sure you aren’t afraid of Ares. When I was quite a bit younger, I belonged to another Bloodmaster. It was not a pleasant experience. When I had grown too old to interest him, he offered me for open Claiming.” She released a breath. “It’s usually reserved for cast-off serfs, and most are only valuable for increasing the number of an Opir’s staff, and his or her prestige.”