Handsome Bastard

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Handsome Bastard ISBN # 1-4199-0773-5 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Handsome Bastard Copyright© 2006 Kate Hill. Edited by Briana St. James. Cover art by Syneca. Electronic book Publication: November 2006 This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Content Advisory: S – ENSUOUS E – ROTIC X - TREME Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme). The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been rated E–rotic. S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination. E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. E-rated titles might contain material that some readers find objectionable—in other words, almost anything goes, sexually. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry in terms of both sexual language and descriptiveness in these works of literature. X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Stories designated with the letter X tend to contain difficult or controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

ANCIENT BLOOD:

HANDSOME BASTARD

Kate Hill

Kate Hill

Prologue Leotine glanced at the corpse positioned on the stone slab, its eyelids weighted down by coins, and felt nothing but disgust for the creature responsible for the woman’s death. As a member of the sacred society We Who Serve Humanity, she had overcome any tendencies toward squeamishness years ago. “This is the fiftieth of our soldiers who has died by his hand. For centuries we have hunted Cyprian Augustus and he has slipped through our fingers like smoke from Vulcan’s fire. We thought Aurelia would have taken him but he somehow used his enchantments to muddle her thoughts and sway her loyalties.” Julius, leader of her faction, stared at Leotine as he spoke. The uncharacteristically desperate look in his eyes should have made her nervous but didn’t. She found that men in general were given to overreacting, especially when blood-drinkers were involved. The corpse, nearly as white as the slab on which it rested, bore no marks on the face or neck. Strange for one supposedly killed by a blood-drinker. Leotine lifted the sheet covering the dead woman’s torso and noted the gaping wound above her heart. “He changed her then staked her?” Julius shook his head and sighed. “No. That act of mercy was performed by us, but he did kill her. Turned her into something vile. Took her mortal life so we were forced to destroy the creature inhabiting her body. Leotine.” He stepped closer and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, his frenzied gaze fixed on her. “You are our last hope. We have sent powerful, experienced men as well as women seductive enough to lure a temple priest away from his god, but Cyprian Augustus has slaughtered them all or turned them into his kind, so we were forced to hunt and kill our own. No one has ever swayed you. Your parents gave you to us early to be certain your heart would belong

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solely to the cause they knew meant life or death for all humanity. Yours will be the hand to strike down our most elusive enemy, if you accept the duty.” “We have served for as long as they have existed and will continue to serve until they are extinct,” Leotine replied, using the words of their society’s primary law. Though she remained outwardly calm, inside she boiled with fury and also eagerness to take the creature responsible for the deaths of her fellow warriors. “Be cautious. His charms are—” “Nothing to me. I have seduced fiends and sent them back to Pluto with my blade through their black hearts. I swear to you and to humanity that Cyprian Augustus will be no different. He is mine.”

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Chapter One The body sprawled in the road leading to his villa brought Cyprian Augustus and his servant to a stop. In spite of the pouring rain, his superior sense of smell caught the scent of fresh blood combined with a distinctly feminine aroma that roused Cyprian’s interest. “Shall I see who it is?” Sextus asked his master. Before replying, Cyprian glanced around, enveloped by the icy feeling that usually preceded disaster. Finally he nodded and dismounted. Sextus did the same and followed him to the body. Both men knelt. Covered in a layer of mud and a wet, bloodstained tunic so thin it scarcely concealed her every lush curve, the woman remained unconscious as Cyprian touched a hand to her neck. A pulse beat steadily against his fingers and when he concentrated hard enough he could hear her heartbeat beyond the noise of the storm. One of her eyes was blackened and her cheek badly bruised. Her nose and lips oozed blood, as did several shallow cuts on her arms and legs. Chestnut hair clung to her shoulders, neck and face. Cyprian brushed a tendril from the corner of her mouth. He noted that in spite of the beating she’d endured, she was quite lovely. “How do you suppose she got here?” Sextus asked. “No definite ideas.” “Well, how about giving me an indefinite one if you think you know something?” Anyone unfamiliar with their past would find Sextus’ manner of speaking to his master shocking. Their relationship extended far beyond that of master and servant and had endured long past any mortal’s comprehension.

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Cyprian’s mouth twitched downward. He had suspicions about this beaten woman in slaves’ garb who had the delicate beauty and well-fed look of a lady of leisure. Of course, he knew from experience how many beautiful slaves filled the wealthy households of Rome, but it was simply a feeling that told him to use caution. Such feelings had kept him alive for centuries, while others of his kind succumbed to death by mortal hands. “Do you intend to leave her?” Sextus asked. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time Cyprian had committed a cold act, yet when he did he invariably had a good reason. Then use your reason, he told himself. Stop looking at her pretty face and those luscious, magnificent, potentially deadly curves. “If we leave her here she’ll most likely die,” Sextus said. “Either from those wounds or from exposure or from someone running over her in the middle of the road. So if you intend to leave her to such a fate, at least let me have a taste—” “Stop it.” Cyprian raised his eyes to the heavens then shook his head. “Pitiful excuse for a blood-drinker that you are. Can’t you tell her injuries aren’t remotely life threatening? It’s warm enough out here for her to survive and who else but you or me would be traveling this road at this time of night?” “Apparently someone was. How else did she get here?” With a low growl, Cyprian tugged the woman into his arms and stood. He carried her to Sextus’ horse and placed her over the saddle. “Why does she get my horse?” Curling his lip, Cyprian glanced at Sextus over his shoulder. “The question should be, why do I keep you around? Guide the horse. When we arrive home, bring warm water and bandages to my cubiculum.” “Ah,” Sextus smiled, revealing the tips of his tiny fangs, “that’s more like the Cyprian I know. Bring her right to bed.” “It’s usually a good place to begin getting the truth out of a woman.”

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“I know several husbands and lovers who might not agree with you.” “That’s because they’re stupid.” Cyprian mounted his horse and kicked it toward his villa. Yes, women spoke lies in the bedroom, but their bodies and expressions were quite another matter. Gaze into a female’s eyes just before her moment of crisis and a man could see through to her very soul. Of course, Cyprian was more gifted than most when it came to sensing lies in both men and women. As a rule, blood-drinkers possessed keen mind control but even among his own kind Cyprian was known as a master of thoughts. He sifted through thoughts like grains of sand on a beach, easily pulling out perfectly shaped shells and either handling them with the utmost delicacy or crushing them to powder. Mortals and immortals, women in particular, found him almost impossible to resist. Even in his mortal life, his mind powers had cried out to the blood-drinker who changed him, allowing him the means to grow beyond his unfortunate beginnings. Approaching his spacious villa, he couldn’t help smiling when he thought what an unbelievable existence he now had. It was quite a change from when he’d been nothing more than the bastard son of an Etruscan soldier and a Roman farm girl. Over the centuries, many had tried to take this powerful life from him. Jealous blood-drinkers. Mortal hunters. Many of the latter he’d easily lured into his world. Some still remained loyally in his service. They had learned he wasn’t the monster they thought him to be. The ones who refused to cooperate, however, had met the beast they feared. He’d crushed them without a blink and would continue to do so for eternity if necessary. At the villa, a boy slave took their horses. While Sextus went to carry out his master’s orders, Cyprian carried the still unconscious woman to his cubiculum and placed her on the bed. He could have taken her elsewhere and summoned a female slave to look after her, but his curiosity got the better of him, as did that uneasy feeling he could not ignore. He peeled off her soaked garment, careful not to touch her in the manner he longed to. 8

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Regardless of who she was or what her motives, she was still unconscious. Rape in any form had never appealed to Cyprian. Though his carnal tastes ran toward the rough, he liked his partners wet, willing and begging for his cock and fangs. Moments later Sextus arrived with warm water, cloths, herbal ointment and bandages. Cyprian dipped a cloth into the water and began cleaning blood from her face. She jerked awake, her heartbeat quickening, and stared at him with large blue eyes. “Who are you? Where am I?” she demanded. “We’re asking the questions here,” Sextus stated. “Since it was my master’s land you chose to collapse upon.” “I didn’t choose anything,” the woman snapped, glancing from Sextus to Cyprian. Suddenly aware of her nudity, she reached for the blankets, though she didn’t appear nearly as embarrassed as he would have expected. That told him quite a lot. “My former master is a cruel man. He no longer wanted me, so he had me beaten and tossed into the road. I walked as long as I could then I must have lost consciousness.” Cyprian said nothing, merely continued staring at her, sensing the lies that fell so easily from her pretty lips. “Most likely a runaway,” Sextus said. “We should throw her back on the street where we found her. Or try to find her master.” “You don’t believe me?” “Silence, woman. Isn’t it enough that my master soils his hands tending a slave like yourself without insulting him further with your sharp tongue?” Cyprian raised his hand to the servant but kept his gaze fixed on the woman as he said, “Leave us, Sextus. Tell Flavia to bring food and wine. And a spare tunic.” He could just about feel the servant bristling with annoyance before he left them alone.

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“Now,” Cyprian continued, again moistening the cloth in water, “you will tell me more about your unfortunate circumstances.”

Leotine’s heart pounded as she stared at Cyprian Augustus, so enraptured by his catlike green eyes and voice as deep and rich as the finest wine that she nearly forgot she’d been sent to kill him. It had been her idea to come to him under this guise. As with all her assignments, she had carefully studied her victim. Though Cyprian had at first seemed to harbor no weaknesses, Leotine had eventually found one. Women. Plump, innocent-looking women in particular. Fortunately Leotine possessed both attributes. Not to say that Cyprian was a fool for such women. The man hadn’t a foolish bone in his body. He simply lusted after such women. Lust could lead to love. Love to trust and trust to death. Convince him of her love and loyalty and he would be hers. The first step was to seem as vulnerable as possible. What better way than to appear as a beaten woman on the side of the road? Julius had agreed to her plan and assisted her in the preparations. Far too willingly for Leotine’s taste. The filthy swine had actually seemed to enjoy beating her, even taken her by surprise with his ferocity. Furious, she’d struck back only to be knocked unconscious by one of his slaves. For the first time, she began to wonder about whether or not her duty was worth the sacrifices she’d made. Cyprian placed a hand to her cheek and began washing blood from her face. She tried to turn away but he held her gently yet firmly as he blotted her lips. “Why are you doing this?” she asked softly. “I told you I’m a slave.” “At the moment you’re my guest,” he said in those low yet incredibly masculine tones that sent an unfamiliar feeling of warmth through her entire body. She had looked at paintings of him made by members of her faction who had seen him. Once or twice she had even looked upon him from a distance when he traveled to

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the city. She had been careful not to move closely enough for him to bother focusing on her by sight or scent. It had been important for their initial meeting to be by her plan. Though she had heard rumors of his stunning good looks, she hadn’t expected him to be like this. His face, with its chiseled bone structure and green eyes that seemed to remain in an alluring half-closed position, like a man thoroughly engaged in making love, nearly stole her breath. He was taller than most men too, with a lean yet muscular build apparent even beneath his tunic. In all her years of tracking and killing blood-drinkers, she had never been attracted to one. Until now. “Who was your master?” he asked. “Julius Titus,” she replied. “And your name?” “Leotine.” Cyprian nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. She studied him carefully as he continued cleaning her face then moved to her arm, which he washed and bandaged. His warm, tender touch lulled her and she found herself wondering how a man like this had earned such a horrible reputation. She mentally scolded herself. This false charm was how he had managed to survive, luring men and women into his deadly embrace. “Shouldn’t a slave be doing this?” she asked, keeping her voice soft and innocent. He had moved to the end of the bed and raised the blanket. Taking her leg in one hand, he used his other to clean a cut on her thigh. Leotine drew a sharp breath, her pulse racing. His hands on her leg felt shockingly good and she found herself wondering how it would feel if he touched her not to heal, but to please.

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She imagined those large yet slender hands stroking her calves. Her breathing deepened when she thought about how his slender lips would feel kissing her inner thighs or his tongue tracing the shape of her knee. Beneath the blanket her nipples stiffened, provoking thoughts of Cyprian Augustus drawing one of the plump buds into his mouth and sucking. A quiver of passion rippled through her and the delicate flesh between her legs ached with need. Cyprian’s gaze met hers and his lips curved upward in the slightest smile. His finely shaped nostrils flared a bit, most likely detecting the aroma of her lust. No man or animal could differentiate between scents like a blood-drinker. A hint of fear combined with embarrassment took her by surprise. Not only was she accustomed to doing whatever necessary to fulfill her duty to We Who Serve Humanity, but she should be pleased he sensed her passion. After all, seducing him was her first step toward destroying him. A female slave arrived with the food, wine and clothing Cyprian had ordered. She simply placed the items on a stool and left. “Are you hungry?” he asked. Leotine nodded. She was actually quite hungry. And thirsty. Her body ached from Julius’ beating. The strange feelings this man evoked confused her in a way she couldn’t think about. Not if she intended to kill him. A hunter’s first rule of survival was not to feel for the prey. Hesitate for a moment and the battle was lost. He finished tending her injuries then offered her the tunic. “Clothe yourself,” he stated. “Then eat, drink and sleep. We will talk more after you’ve rested.” Leotine nodded. “Thank you. I—I don’t even know your name.” Another smile flirted with his sensual lips before he said, “Cyprian Augustus.” “Thank you, Master.” She bowed her head. “You have been most kind. Most—”

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He turned and left while she was still talking.

***** Sextus awaited Cyprian outside the door. The servant began to speak, but Cyprian raised a hand to silence him. They walked to the atrium where Sextus said in just above a whisper, “I don’t like her and I don’t like how you’re acting. We have no idea who this woman is. It’s not time to indulge in one of your lewd affairs—” “She’s hunting me,” Cyprian stated, causing Sextus to pause, his eyes wide. “If she is, then why bother healing her? Kill her now and be done with it.” “You have never learned the art of subtlety.” Cyprian sighed, folding his arms across his chest. “And you pride yourself in cheating death. Even our kind can die you know. Why must you always try to convert these stake-driving pigs? Is it arrogance? Pride? I know you too well to think it’s mercy.” He shrugged. “Call it a hobby.” “Then take up something less dangerous, like fighting lions in the coliseum.” Cyprian chuckled. “I’m serious, Cyprian. Why not confront this woman now?” “Because I want to see how far she’ll go with this act.” “She’ll go far enough to drive a stake through your heart, if you let her.” “You think so?” Cyprian walked to the pool just below the hole in the center of the atrium ceiling. He watched raindrops pelt the water while his thoughts drifted to Leotine. Not only was she beautiful but in spite of her soft, feminine appearance he saw strength in her eyes. The woman was made of steel and he liked that. She was willing to suffer for her beliefs. Unfortunately she believed in the wrong things. Like most hunters, she thought all blood-drinkers should die for the crimes of a few. If he could

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make her understand her folly, help her see the truth, a woman like Leotine would make an incomparable ally, perhaps even a worthy companion. “Cyprian, please.” Sextus approached and grasped his arm tightly. Their gazes locked, genuine worry gleaming in his friend’s eyes. “Don’t do this. One of these days your luck will run out.” “It’s not luck that has saved me all these years. It’s skill. Now excuse me, Sextus. I have a seduction to plan.”

***** When Leotine awoke, she heard nothing except the wind rushing through the trees outside and the sound of her own breathing, but she sensed she was not alone. Her body tense and ready to fend off a potential attack, she strained to see in the darkness. Unarmed, she had little chance of surviving against Cyprian or one of his kind, yet she had been trained practically since birth to fight them to the death. “Good evening, Leotine.” Cyprian’s hushed voice, so deep and delicious, made her feel as if she was sinking into a warm pool of lust. She turned toward the sound of his voice only to be surprised when a dim light shone through the door across the room. She hadn’t heard him move. His tall silhouette passed into the hallway and he returned carrying a lantern. Light from the flames danced on his face and half-bare chest draped in an old-fashioned toga. Such a garment hadn’t been in fashion for years in Rome, yet in it Cyprian looked handsome beyond words. The way the material draped his broad shoulder and left his powerful arms exposed sent her pulse racing out of control. A mat of dark hair covered his wide chest. The urge to run her fingers over it almost overcame her. As if sensing her desire, he approached, placed the lantern on a stool and sat on the edge of the bed. A pleasant, herbal scent clung to him. His catlike eyes fixed on hers, the lantern light flickering in their green depths. “Feeling better?” he asked.

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“Yes. Thank you. I…what do you plan to do with me?” He looked thoughtful then ever so gently brushed the back of her hand with his fingertips. Instinctively she drew away, though at the same time she longed for him to keep touching her. By the gods, she wanted more than his mere touch. She wanted him to fuck her. She wanted that sleek, masculine body atop her and his cock to fill her while she clung to him in mindless ecstasy. What was wrong with her? She’d never felt this way about anyone. A harsh life of training to kill demons had taught her that lovemaking wasn’t something to be savored, but a weapon used to serve her faction. Those who carried the secrets of We Who Serve Humanity weren’t allowed a normal life of marriage, lovers and children who could grow up untainted by the duty of their forefathers. It seemed Cyprian Augustus was more powerful than she’d realized. Somehow he had infiltrated her thoughts, though Leotine was one of the few mortals with a firm grasp of mind control. “Please,” she continued, thrusting aside her carnal fantasies and steeling herself to continue the charade until his beautiful, demonic eyes closed forever. “What will you do with me?” “That depends on you. You may go or you may stay.” “As a slave?” “As a very personal slave.” Leotine’s mouth went dry and her heart fluttered. Other than her annoying lust for him, this was going well. Too well. Was this some sort of trap? Though he seemed kind, historical records of his life said otherwise. He was cunning, this blood-drinker, so she must remain cautious. “Personal?” she asked, keeping her expression guileless. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

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“I think you do.” He ran his hand up her arm, his fingertips stroking in a featherlight but oh-so-stimulating manner. His fingers curved around her elbow and his thumb traced tender circles over her inner arm, his touch soothing yet arousing. Little ripples of pleasure darted through her. “Still let me explain. I have slaves who run my stables, Leotine. Slaves who cook and wash and tend the gardens. I have slaves who make wine and others who do the marketing. Then I have slaves who see to my more important needs.” “What could be more important than…” Her voice faded as he leaned closer until his lips almost touched hers. Those bewitching eyes blinked slowly, seductively. She felt the heat of his body. All she had to do was raise her hand the slightest bit to touch him. “There are. Believe me.” “I would think a man like you wouldn’t need slaves to fulfill such duties. You could have a wife, lovers.” “Hassles. You will find me to be a generous master, Leotine.” “If I refuse, what will you do? Beat me as my last master did? Perhaps return me to him so he can finish what he started?” “Courageous words from a woman in your position.” Leotine lowered her gaze, concentrating on keeping her breathing slow and steady. It had been stupid to bait him in any way. She was supposed to play the part of a meek, abused slave faced with scratching out a living on the streets of Rome. “I admire bravery in women and men alike,” he continued. “And I will grant you a reply to your rather imprudent question. I will not beat you nor will I return you to Julius Titus. You will be free to go. However, I will point out that staying is to your benefit. My personal slaves are treated very, very well.” He edged even closer. Certain he was going to kiss her, Leotine lowered her eyelids halfway, her nipples hard and aching for his touch.

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To her surprise, he straightened. Her eyes flew completely open and she stared at him, her lips parted, while he watched her with an irritating smirk. “What shall it be, Leotine? The streets of Rome or my bed, which you seem to find so comfortable already?” “I’ll take your bed,” she replied, her voice just above a whisper. He nodded, his broad chest expanding as he drew a deep breath and released it slowly. “Are you well enough to begin your duties immediately or do you require more time to recover after your ordeal?” Immediately. Have his big, warm body possess hers immediately. Have his sensual lips and wet tongue devour her nipples immediately. “I’m a bit sore, but not in any place that should hinder us,” she replied, gazing at him through her lashes. “I will be gentle with you until the bruises fade. Then we can explore other forms of pleasure.” “Other forms? You enjoy…pain, Master?” “Not pain. Pleasure to the extreme, shall we say. You will learn. And don’t fear, Leotine. I have no interest in forcing a woman, slave or not, into anything from which she gains no pleasure.” He ran a fingertip over her lower lip, then traced her neck and collarbone. “When a woman’s heart pounds, nipples ache and cunt is slick with lustful heat, that is when I want her. Her pleasure becomes mine. Her very essence is mine. Then, if she is loyal, if she proves worthy of my affection, I will make it possible for us to devour each other.” “Devour?” Oh gods, was he talking about the blood sharing? Openly referring to it? Perhaps this had been a bad idea after all. What if he forcibly made her a blood-drinker? According to his history, he had never done such a thing but only changed those completely devoted to him. Still her faction didn’t know everything about him.

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“All in good time, Leotine,” he said. “For now I will send a slave to see to your needs while I engage in daily exercise. When I’m finished I will summon you to the bath where your duties will begin.” “Yes, Master.” Leotine watched him go, relishing the play of muscles in his back and arms before he disappeared from view. The thought of making love with him already had her wet and trembling. It was strange, but for the first time she would gain pleasure from a creature she was sworn to kill.

***** Though years of practicing to conceal her emotions allowed Leotine to maintain a calm appearance, excitement coiled tightly inside her on her way to Cyprian’s private bath. Within moments she would be making love with the most sensual man she had ever known. But he’s not a man. He’s a monster. The young female slave who had guided her to the bath paused and pointed to an archway. “Through there.” The woman rested a gentle hand on Leotine’s arm. “Don’t be afraid. He is a kind master to those who please him.” “And those who don’t?” Leotine asked quietly. The slave’s lips parted as she drew a long breath, glanced away and returned to the kitchen where she worked. A shiver rippled down Leotine’s spine. Just as she thought. He wasn’t nearly as harmless as he would like her to believe. But what Roman man was? Many ruled their households with violence and Cyprian had double the capacity for cruelty. He was both a man and a blood-drinker.

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Bound by duty and lured by drives of her body that she loathed admitting to, Leotine stepped into the bath. Her gaze fixed on Cyprian, she nearly forgot to breathe and her nipples tightened with uncontrolled desire. Naked, he stood by the pool, his back to her. Beautifully developed muscles rippled beneath flesh gleaming with sweat. His firm yet well-rounded bottom made her ache to touch it and squeeze the taut spheres. He glanced over his shoulder at her and blinked slowly, almost lazily in spite of the lust glistening in his eyes. Across the room, Sextus cleared his throat. Leotine glanced in his direction. She had noticed him from the corner of her eye when she’d entered but had been far more interested in Cyprian Augustus’ perfect body. The slave, also naked and sweat-drenched, carried two swords they had obviously been practicing with. “I will leave you now,” Sextus stated, placing the swords aside only to cover himself with a toga. The servant went to pick up the weapons, but Cyprian said, “You may leave mine.” Sextus nodded and strode out of the room. Once they were alone, Leotine walked to the sword and ran her fingertip over its handle. “Did you ask him to leave it so you could perhaps use it on me?” Cyprian approached with long, slow strides, staring at her with those predatory eyes. “Of course not. Why would I do that? I have another sword, one of flesh, on which I intend to impale you. Painlessly, of course.” “Yet no less deadly?” she murmured. He tilted his head slightly to one side, studying her. Leotine resisted the urge to wrap her hand around the sword and attempt to destroy him then and there, before he could twist her emotions any further, yet that would be foolish. The chances of her taking him by surprise and fending him off were

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next to impossible. To ensure his demise, she must first earn his trust. Not only that, why had he asked the slave to leave his weapon behind? Why was he giving her a chance to use it on him? Did he suspect she wasn’t what she claimed to be? Was he baiting her? There were far too many unanswered questions for her to risk acting on impulse. Not with a man like Cyprian Augustus. “It’s time for you to fulfill your duty,” he stated, his hand closing over hers around the sword. “What?” Leotine glanced into his eyes, momentarily startled. He did know what she’d come to… A smile flirting with his lips, he slowly guided her hand away from the sword and tugged her to where a lovely engraved container of oil and a strigil rested beside the bath. Relief washed over her. He merely wanted her to clean and massage him. Once again staring at his powerful, naked body, she swallowed hard. Merely clean and massage. What had she been thinking? There was no way she could endure touching him without surrendering to at least some of the emotions battling inside her.

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Chapter Two Cyprian sat on a thick towel spread on the floor and Leotine knelt beside him. After uncovering the container, she dipped her fingers inside then rubbed the oil between her hands, warming it before she spread it over his broad shoulders. By the gods, it was the most arousing experience of her life. His flesh was very warm from his exercise, the muscles beneath hard and sculpted as marble. She ran her hands down his back and over his ribs, relishing the sensations. He bore several scars, probably sustained during his mortal life. Cyprian extended one long arm and she covered it with oil, running her fingertips along the alluring vein that ran down his thick biceps. She took his hand and stroked every inch of it, tracing the shape of each long, slender finger. His hands were absolutely beautiful. Sensitive yet strong. Those hands could bring crushing pain or unsurpassed pleasure. She longed to feel the latter. Leotine moved to his other arm, her heart pounding with anticipation as she refrained from working on his chest until she could scarcely wait to touch it. Taking more oil, she considered the best way to reach the front of his torso. Before she could decide for herself, Cyprian grasped her by the waist and hauled her atop him. She straddled him. His legs stretched out in front of him as he leaned back on his elbows, supporting himself while she oiled his chest. The tip of her tongue moistened her lips and she drew a steadying breath. She ran both hands over the broad expanse of his chest and curled her fingers in the dark hair before again caressing with her palms. Pausing a moment, she felt his heart beating slow and steady. Powerful. A blooddrinker’s heart, yet unquestionably alive. As she and her faction had learned long ago, these were not creatures resurrected from the dead, but a living, breathing race. Yet they were not of the mortal world. Tainted by evil, they weren’t fit to exist among men.

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They were killers who sucked the blood of her people. Like any decent mortal, the idea of blood sharing had always sickened her. Yet here and now with Cyprian, the thought of nourishing him with her blood increased her desire. This was wrong. His gaze flickered toward hers, once again reminding her of the part she must play. But was it still a part? Her body’s reaction to him was not forced, but instead beyond her control. She ached for him, the delicate flesh between her legs desperate for his touch. She was wet for him. So ready. His cock, thick and aroused, pressed between her legs. Resisting the urge to rock against it, she continued working on his torso. Her hands swept his chest, her thumbs swirling over his nipples before she spread the oil over his flat stomach. She moved to his feet and oiled him from ankle to hip. Breathing deeply, her body trembling slightly with need, she gazed at his cock. It was thick and had grown so long that part of the shaft and the bulbous head protruded past the foreskin. She longed to stroke it, learn its contours, roll her tongue over it and taste the first droplets of his essence. Finally through oiling him, she reached for the strigil and clasped it tightly to still her shaking hands. She began scraping away oil and sweat from his flesh. Never had she imagined enjoying such a revolting duty, but everything about Cyprian, from his scent to the feel of his skin, excited her beyond her darkest dreams. When she’d finished, she wiped her hands on a towel and stared as he stood and walked to a low table across the room. He lay on his stomach, his head turned in her direction, and gazed at her, summoning her with a look alone. At that moment, Leotine realized she had allowed him to control her completely. She had been sent to seduce him but he, with his beautiful demon eyes and sinful body, had been manipulating her instead.

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Regaining control of herself, she called upon a lifetime of training and decided to take charge of the situation. She stood and approached using her most seductive walk while keeping an expression of wide-eyed innocence. “Am I pleasing you, Master?” she asked softly. “Yes. Apparently Julius Titus trained you well in the art of seduction, for I have never had a slave cleanse me with such enthusiasm.” “Enthusiasm?” Leotine gritted her teeth. Was that comment meant to goad her? Why should it? This was, after all, what she wanted. To pose as his slave. His eyes flickered in her direction and though he didn’t smile, she sensed his amusement. “Come. Finish,” he ordered. Oh she intended to finish and with any luck wipe that smug expression off his handsome face. Starting at the base of his spine, Leotine massaged every inch of his back, alternating strong kneading motions with feathery strokes. Touching him aroused her so much that by the time she’d finished she was fighting the need to leap on him. Cyprian’s breathing was frustratingly slow and measured. His eyes had even drifted shut in total relaxation. She glanced at the sword across the room. If he had fallen asleep, she could possibly kill him now. No. It was too soon and that would be too easy. Once she had gained his trust and that of his slaves, she could attempt to take his life with a greater chance of success. She could steal a blade from the kitchen, perhaps even have access to poison. Though poison only rendered his kind unconscious, it would make killing him that much simpler. Her hands swept across his broad shoulders then she used her thumbs to caress the back of his neck. The thought of killing this beautiful man, plunging a blade through his chest or burning him alive, suddenly made her sick.

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With a grunt of pleasure, he turned onto his back, grasped her hands and tugged her atop him. Again Leotine straddled him, their gazes locked. This time he deftly removed her tunic and flung it aside. Leotine quivered from head to toe, nearly overwhelmed by the sensation of her bare legs clasping his sides, her clit pressed against his swollen cock. His gaze followed his hands as they swept over her hips and up her ribs to cup her breasts. Leotine’s heart thrummed mercilessly. His touch was firm yet gentle and so marvelously warm. He kneaded her breasts and rolled his thumbs over the taut nipples, making them tighten even more. Tiny bumps of pleasure rose on their dark pink areolas. A low, animal growl rumbled in his chest before he grasped her waist and hauled her up his body. She was forced to brace a hand on either side of his head to keep her balance. The position gave his mouth complete access to her breasts. Capturing one nipple between his lips, he laved it with his tongue. Leotine gasped with pleasure, little tremors of desire coursing through her. When he sucked hard on the stimulated, berry-shaped nub, she moaned, enflamed by passion. While he sucked and licked her nipple, his hands caressed her stomach, sides and back. He reached between their bodies and dipped first one, then two fingers inside her, exploring where she was so hot and wet. “Oh,” she cried. “Oh please, Master, please.” “Please?” he said between licks and sucks, a teasing edge to his voice that had become husky with desire. “Please keep touching me.” Leotine gasped and writhed, no longer certain she was simply going along with this charade out of duty. In truth she wanted him to make love with her, give her the release her body strove for so desperately.

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He withdrew his fingers that were now slick with her essence and began rubbing her clit. Leotine thought she might die from the pleasure. Groaning, she lowered her forearms to the table, allowing him to take as much of her breast as he could fit into his mouth. His hand moved from her clit and he grasped her waist while she pressed her soft mound against his cock and rocked her hips in an attempt to reach the elusive plateau of absolute fulfillment. Just when she thought she would burst with pleasure, he pushed her back so her buttocks rested on his thighs. She caught herself on her hands to avoid tumbling over backward. “Stop trying to control our pleasure,” he said, a wild glint in his eyes. “But—” “As enthusiastic as you are, I have far more skill in the ways of lust and you will obey me, not only because I am your master but because you want to experience pleasure such as you’ve never known.” “And you can provide it?” A slow smile spread across his lips. He eased his legs out from under her and leaned closer, his arms on either side of her thighs and his lips hovering over hers. He spoke in a husky whisper, far more influential than a shout, “I am lust itself, Leotine. You are now the slave of lust. Do you understand?” She swallowed hard, her emotions twisted into a braid of anger, fear and unsurpassed desire. “Do you understand?” he continued, his tone sinister yet compelling. “Yes,” she replied. “Yes, Master.” Why did calling him master give her such a thrill, as did the idea of being completely possessed by him? “Now,” he stretched out on his back again so she was forced to straddle him or leave the table, “you will take my cock in your hand, Leotine, and follow my instructions.”

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She nodded, her heart beating out of control. Excitement rolled through her like stormy waves. Sitting back on his thighs, she did as he ordered and curled her hand around his erection. “Stroke it with long sweeps, using the foreskin to tease the head. Yes. Like that.” He settled back more comfortably, folding his arms behind his head. Leotine glanced at the well-defined muscles and also the sensual pattern of hair dusting his underarms. Then she again met his gaze. “That’s right, my beauty, look in my eyes. See what you’re doing to me.” For several moments she stroked him in that manner, seeing his green eyes darken with passion. He blinked very slowly, as if it had become a struggle to keep his eyes open against the pleasure. “Now, Leotine, push down the skin and use your mouth on me.” Not wanting to appear overly eager, Leotine moved slowly and allowed him to savor every touch. His legs spread wider so she could settle between them. Her arms slipped beneath his thighs and her lips hovered over the base of his cock, her breath fanning it gently. “Explore it with your tongue. Learn my shape, my taste,” he said. Using the tip of her tongue, she ran it up and down his shaft then followed the pattern with longer strokes. She licked and laved, outlining each vein and every inch of velvety skin. Then she focused her full attention on the head. She ran her lips over it and used the tip of her tongue to caress the eye. Taking it between her lips, she sucked with the same vigor he’d used on her nipple. All the while he kept remarkable control over himself. She felt his body tense, but he never thrust against her or forced her closer. Probably because he had no need to. Leotine so enjoyed stimulating him in this way that she didn’t hesitate in drawing him so deeply into her mouth that his cock head brushed the back of her throat. She sucked, laved and teased until he finally grasped a handful of her hair and gently tugged her away. 26

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“That’s enough,” he said, slightly breathless. When she looked into his eyes she was suddenly reminded of his true nature. They had taken on an inhuman gleam, and through his parted lips she saw the glistening tips of his fangs. Though small and scarcely noticeable to the untrained eye, his fangs both frightened and aroused her. Her fascination with blood-drinkers’ fangs had been a secret she’d kept carefully hidden from We Who Serve Humanity. Admitting such a thing was considered a crime among her people and called for severe punishment. “You’re looking at my eyes,” he said. “I will explain about them at a later time, but now I want you to mount me. You will place my cock inside you and ride.” Panting slightly with desire, Leotine obeyed. She straddled him again, grasped his cock and guided it to her slick passage. “Slowly,” he said. “Very slowly.” Inch by marvelous inch, she lowered herself onto him. While she let him fill her, Cyprian gently pinched and rolled her nipples, his touch one of pleasure-pain. By the time he was fully buried inside her, Leotine hovered on the brink of climax, her entire body taut and straining. “Ride,” he stated, “but do not come.” “I…don’t think I can.” “It is my command.” “But—” “Do it.” Offering her his hands to clasp as she rocked upon him, he stared at her through half-closed eyes. Leotine fought to hold his gaze, wanting to surrender to the urge to close her eyes tightly. She moved upon him, trembling from head to toe as she struggled against the need to increase her speed and push to fulfillment.

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“Stop,” he commanded. She did as he said, shaking from head to toe, every muscle straining. Her eyes closed and neck arched back. Gasping, she struggled to maintain control over her lustdriven body. “Please, Cyprian, please!” “Come, Leotine. Come to me now.” With a sob of pleasure, she rode him hard. Her pulse raced and every part of her throbbed, especially her cunt. It clamped hard around his cock, the sensations so intense they bordered on pain. Just before the last waves struck, Leotine felt him come. His hips thrust upward and a passionate cry escaped his throat. She collapsed against him in a semi-swoon, her lips pressed against the side of his neck, her legs entwined with his. After several moments, he sat up, lifting her. Leotine slipped her arms around his neck, gazing at him in wonder as he carried her to the bath and stepped in. She’d never imagined being with a man like this. Her life had been one of duty and though she had been trained in the art of seduction, she had never realized that a man might find joy in pleasing a woman, particularly a slave. Cyprian seemed to relish her lust. Strange that the only man to ever treat her with this kind of tenderness wasn’t a man at all, but a creature she would eventually be forced to kill. All her life she had been taught to use lovemaking as a weapon. Until meeting Cyprian, the word lovemaking itself had been a terrible contradiction, for never had she lain with a man and felt the semblance of love. He held her gaze then covered her mouth with a kiss that was both possessive and gentle. His lips felt firm yet soft and slightly moist. They moved against hers before he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Hers met it stroke for stroke, savoring his warmth and taste. He explored her completely while allowing her to do the same. Their tongues lapped and traced every soft curve, every smooth surface of tooth. Curious beyond

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measure, she carefully touched her tongue to the tip of one fang. She gasped at the sharpness. Oddly, she felt no pain, though she tasted a hint of blood. Cyprian reacted similarly to when she’d sucked his cock. His body tensed and he growled deep in his throat. He held her tighter and his kiss became more aggressive. Something in the back of her mind told her she should pull back and not tempt a blood-drinker in this way, but she didn’t want to move. He released her, allowing her to slide down his body until she stood in the warm water, her mouth still locked against his. Leotine entangled her fingers in his short, damp hair and relished its thickness. This time she raked her tongue across both fangs. He thrust his hips against her, his steely cock trapped between their bodies. Then he abruptly pushed her away. Panting, his eyes blazing, he held her gaze. “You flirt with danger, Leotine.” She didn’t reply, merely smiled innocently and waded farther into the water. They spent the next few moments washing, then with a suddenness that made her gasp, Cyprian once again swept her into his arms and left the pool. He placed her on the towel that was still spread on the ground and stretched out atop her, bearing his weight on his forearms. He kissed her, plunging his tongue into her mouth. Leotine clung to him, her eyes closed. Instinctively she slid her feet up and down his calves then wrapped her legs around him. She fully expected him to shift his cock into her and satisfy their reawakened hunger, but he surprised her by breaking the kiss and edging down her body. Stretching out on his side, he lifted her legs over his shoulders and pressed his face against her soft mound. Leotine gasped. Heat, both from desire and embarrassment, rose in her face. For all the times she had pleasured men with her lips and tongue, none had ever reciprocated. Cyprian ran his tongue over her clit. His lips tugged on the tender flesh before he began licking in a gentle, steady rhythm that soon had her head tossing and body

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tensing with impending climax. It was as if he knew exactly what she wanted. Perhaps he was reading her mind. She had long ago forgotten to conceal her thoughts from him, mostly because she hadn’t once felt him attempt to pry into her mind. Maybe he had been there from the first, which was why she felt such confusion regarding him. “Oh,” she cried, clutching his head closer, every muscle in her body tense and her heart pounding. The sensations were indescribable. So great was the pleasure that she wondered if she could survive much more. He left her clit only to plunge his tongue deep inside her. It swirled and explored before returning to her engorged nub and pushing her over the edge. “Yes, oh, Cyprian. Gods!” She moaned, thrashed and panted while he continued licking and sucking until she lay completely drained. Trembling, her breathing ragged, she let her thoughts go blank in the aftermath of primitive yet unsurpassed pleasure.

Cyprian sat back on his heels and watched Leotine, who lay in a semiconscious state, a slight smile on her lips. Just one night and he’d already learned so much about her. She was undoubtedly a hunter, but not typical by any means. This woman was too curious about his kind to be fighting against them. The way she’d fearlessly given him a taste of her blood had proved that. Of course he doubted she was ready to accept a full-fledged bite, but given time he could convince her. She piqued his curiosity in many ways. What made a woman whose natural instinct was to like blood-drinkers enter the vocation of hunting them? Had one of his kind harmed her in some way? Perhaps murdered someone she loved? Maybe she was among those raised since birth to fight for the despicable group We Who Serve Humanity. They thought they were so cunning, hiding from the world and seeking to drive his kind to extinction. True, most blood-drinkers didn’t know about them, but Cyprian did. He would wager his fangs that his knowledge of their existence was their main reason 30

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for tracking him so relentlessly. He had become a challenge to them, but little did they know they were playing his game and Cyprian never lost.

***** The following evening, Leotine awoke in Cyprian’s bed, surprised she hadn’t been moved to the slaves’ quarters. She wasn’t accustomed to men who treated their slaves, even those they took to bed, as anything more than property. This quirk of his made him far more dangerous than she’d anticipated. It was harder to kill someone likeable, even if he was a blood-drinker. Think about all the people he has destroyed, such as hunters who wanted nothing more than to protect mankind from evil. Leotine left the bed, ignoring the soreness in her body caused by Julius’ beating, and drew a deep, cleansing breath. Regardless of how handsome and tempting Cyprian was, she could not forget her duty. Evil in itself was alluring. If it wasn’t, no one would have difficulty being good. In spite of her youth and innocent appearance, Leotine’s training and experience had hardened her. Other women might soften when faced with Cyprian’s charms, but she would not. After washing in a basin of water, she combed the tangles from her hair, dressed in her tunic and left the room. She glanced toward the garden and inhaled the scent of flowers carried on the mild evening breeze. Though she would love to explore the garden, she assumed she would be expected to carry out household duties of some sort. Best to find another slave to guide her. She walked to the atrium where several servants passed her by. An older, black-haired woman who carried herself with an air of authority approached.

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“Good evening,” the woman said. “I’m Ursula. You must be Leotine. The master told us about you and if you have any questions or needs, please let me know. How are you feeling? Those are some terrible cuts and bruises from your accident.” Leotine smiled slightly. “I’m much better, thank you. What are my duties? I would like to attend to them directly.” “The master left orders that you are to do whatever you please.” Leotine raised an eyebrow. “But I—” “He is usually a kind master but doesn’t take well to being disobeyed. His instructions are simple and clear. You are to take orders directly from him. When your services are not required, you may spend your time doing what you wish. Don’t look so startled.” Ursula rested a gentle hand on Leotine’s shoulder. “The master’s ways are often unusual, but once you grow accustomed to his habits, I’m sure you’ll enjoy living here.” “Yes. I’m sure,” Leotine said softly and offered her most demure smile. Ursula disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Leotine with many thoughts to ponder. It seemed Cyprian wanted her only as a love slave after all. After familiarizing herself with the rooms off the atrium, Leotine walked to the garden. With the light of the full moon as well as several torches lit beside a rectangular pool, she was able to see easily. It was a beautiful garden filled with trees, flowers and lovely statues. One in particular caught her interest. The exquisite man formed of white marble was a perfect replica of Cyprian Augustus, from the wavy hair on his head to his well-shaped toes. Even the details of the beautiful marble cock and balls were unmistakable. Leotine’s pulse quickened as she imagined making love with Cyprian. She’d never enjoyed a man so much in her life. Instinctively she took a step closer to the statue, then paused and glanced around the garden to make sure she was alone. Seeing no one, she

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approached the statue and gazed at its chiseled face. Her fingertips outlined the welldefined stomach muscles then hovered over the bulbous cock head. “Good evening.” Leotine jumped and drew a sharp breath. She spun on her heel and felt heat rise in her face when her gaze met Cyprian’s. He stood on the colonnade and though he wasn’t smiling, she sensed his amusement. Again he wore the toga. He looked gorgeous enough to weaken her knees. She longed to run her hands over his powerful chest, feel the soft curling hair over solid muscles. Though she kept her duty in the back of her mind, she allowed her womanly urges to overtake her, knowing it would enhance her performance. After all, she was his slave to do with as he pleased. By the lustful expression burning beneath the calm surface of his eyes, he intended to have her again soon. “Good evening.” Leotine lowered her gaze in the manner of a proper slave. “Is there anything you require?” “Just the pleasure of your company.” He cupped her chin in his hand and tenderly ran his thumb over her bruised cheek. “I trust you’re feeling better?” “Yes.” “But you still need time to heal. So delicate.” He bent and brushed his lips across her cheek. Good. Let the bastard think her a weak, innocent mortal. His lips moved to her temple then her mouth. Leotine’s eyes closed and her lips parted beneath his. She resisted the urge to moan softly when his tongue slipped between her lips and explored with gentle, yet demanding strokes. Resting her hands on his lean waist, she stood on tiptoe to better reach him. Gods, everything about the man excited her to a fever pitch and almost made her forget he was a beast that needed to be killed.

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With the utmost tenderness, he trailed his fingers over the sides of her breasts then cupped her buttocks. His tongue thrust deeper into her mouth while at the same time he kneaded her fleshy bottom. Leotine ran her palms up his back and gripped his shoulders. Her fingers stroked and clutched the muscles. He was so hard. Utterly virile and oozing more appeal than a room full of the emperor’s finest gladiators. When the kiss broke, Leotine gazed at him breathlessly. Cyprian’s eyes blazed with passion, but before she could fully discern the reddish tinge of vampiric desire, he brushed past her and faced the statue. It was strange, seeing Cyprian in the flesh so close to Cyprian in white marble. He glanced back at her and extended his hand, palm up. She slid hers into it. Cyprian’s long fingers closed over her hand and his warmth seeped into her. Why was he playing this game? What could he possibly gain from this mock courting of a slave? He tucked her hand against his arm and walked with her through the garden. “Who made the sculpture of you?” she asked when he seemed to have no intention of breaking the silence. “A gifted artist I knew long ago.” She wondered exactly how long. It could have been centuries. “Tell me about yourself, Leotine.” Glancing at him, she said, “I have told you everything.” “I mean about your family. By your excellent speech I guess you were born in this vicinity, yet there is something foreign about you.” “My mother was from Britannia. She was taken into slavery.” “I see.” How can he see, she thought bitterly. What does a creature like him know of slavery and hardship? 34

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“Do you know who your father is?” “Yes,” Leotine said more sharply than she should have. She continued scarcely above a whisper, “He was also a slave in Julius Titus’ house.” “You needn’t fear speaking freely to me, Leotine. I knew Titus himself couldn’t possibly be your father, for he surely couldn’t spawn such perfection. Not even if your mother was a beauty.” “My mother is very beautiful,” Leotine admitted. With brilliant auburn hair and pale blue eyes, her mother encompassed all the loveliness of Britannia. Unfortunately she was as cruel as she was lovely. Sharp-tongued and free with physical punishment, she had prepared Leotine well for the rigorous training with We Who Serve Humanity. For several moments they walked quietly through the garden, then Leotine began, “Do you—” Cyprian glanced at her. “Please go on.” “I was wondering about your family. Do they live nearby?” How would the blood-drinker answer her question? What sort of lie would he spin? “My parents are long dead. I have no wife and few friends. You might wonder about the closeness between me and my servants. I’ve found most of them to be more loyal than acquaintances of my own class. Those who reside in this villa are my family, my children.” His reply surprised her. Though vague, it was mostly honest. By children, she knew he meant his unnatural offspring—other blood-drinkers. “In time, you and I may come to share such closeness.” He used his thumb to gently stroke her hand. “This is your home now, Leotine, and it is my wish for you to be happy here.” She replied in a way she hoped would please him. “Thank you. My wish is to make you happy, Master.”

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His gaze again flickered in her direction and a slight smile touched his lips. What made her uneasy was that it didn’t reach his eyes. The green orbs seemed to stab her soul, destroying lies and prodding for the truth she swore to keep hidden until the day she pierced his evil heart. “Have you eaten yet tonight?” he asked. When Leotine shook her head, he continued, “I will leave you to go to the kitchen, then. It’s time for my nightly exercise. I will see you afterward for my bath and later we will eat supper together.” Leotine’s interest sparked at the mention of his nightly exercise. Mostly likely it included swordplay and other forms of fighting. Seeing his skill level and learning his techniques could prove useful. The better she knew her enemy, the better her chances of destroying him completely. “May I watch you?” she asked. He raised an eyebrow. “Surely you can think of better ways to spend your time than watching me exercise?” “What better way than to look upon male beauty at its most savage?” she said in a soft voice and stared at him with wide eyes. With a deep chuckle, he wrapped an arm snugly around her waist and bent so that he practically spoke against her lips. “Later tonight, all my savage male beauty shall be yours alone to do with as you please. Until then I require privacy.” Before she could reply, he covered her mouth in another intoxicating kiss that left her slightly breathless. When he finally stepped away, her entire body still tingled from his touch. Hard nipples pressed against her tunic and the pleasurable ache between her legs made her long for him to appease it. She could scarcely wait for his thick cock to fill her, for his slender fingers to tease her breasts and stroke the taut pink nub between her legs until she burst with passion. This time his smile was genuine. His broad chest expanded as he drew a long breath and released it slowly, his melting gaze fixed on hers. “Soon, beautiful Leotine,” he said. “You must learn patience.” 36

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If only he knew the extent of her patience, that she was willing to live as his slave for the gods knew how long before fulfilling the duty she had been sent to carry out. Without another word, he left her alone in the garden. For several moments Leotine walked around, admiring the plants, trees and flowers. She would have to make a point to visit the garden by day sometime. Though lovely in the moonlight, she didn’t doubt it would be splendid beneath the brilliance of the sun. She loved gardens. Long ago, during her intense training as a hunter, her only moments of true escape were spent in Julius Titus’ garden. Alone amidst the flowers and statues, she could pretend she was not a hunter, but an average woman. One who could do honest work, enjoy simple pleasures, just live without fear of the evil she knew existed. Live without her sole motive being the destruction of other creatures. Yes, blood-drinkers had to die, but sometimes she wondered if all that killing, even of those who deserved it, hadn’t ruined her as well. A normal woman could bed a man like Cyprian and enjoy it completely. She wouldn’t have to bear the guilt of knowing she would eventually kill a man who had given her such pleasure. But he is not a man. He is a monster. Evil. Destructive. His handsome looks and veneer of kindness only exist to sway you from what you know to be true. Leotine knelt by a statue of a rabbit and rested her hand upon its cool head. She closed her eyes and thought about her vows and her duty. She thrust aside her doubts about the manipulative, blood-drinking bastard Cyprian Augustus. We have served for as long as they have existed and will continue to serve until they are extinct. Until he is dead. Dead by her hand. His intoxicating green eyes forever closed.

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Chapter Three Several hours later, Cyprian placed his sword aside and wiped his forearm across his perspiring brow. Nearby, Sextus took two towels from a basket beside a large clay pot. He used one to blot his face and handed the other to Cyprian. They had been practicing swordplay and wrestling, just as they did almost every night. Keeping sharp both in mind and body meant life or death to blood-drinkers, particularly Cyprian. It seemed the hunters would never rest until they destroyed him. They didn’t like losing and he had thwarted their efforts for ages. There had been sneaky attacks as well as blatant ones. Now they had sent the beautiful Leotine to seduce him into giving up his immortality. When were they going to learn that he was better at the game than they were? Actually, he should thank them for sending Leotine. He had been bored of late and she was the perfect remedy. Refreshed by the exercise, Cyprian looked forward to more pleasant exertions with the curvy huntress. “You’re still keeping the woman here and giving her the run of the villa?” Sextus asked. Scrubbing the towel over his sweat-beaded arms and chest, Cyprian replied, “Nothing has changed.” Nothing had changed, except his heightened interest Leotine. Earlier that evening, when she’d asked to watch him exercise, he knew her main interest hadn’t been in admiring his male beauty at its most savage, as she’d put it. She wished to observe her enemy to learn as much as possible about Cyprian. What better way than to watch him fight? If properly trained, even a mere human might defeat a blood-drinker. Cyprian didn’t doubt Leotine had been taught as much about blood-drinkers as any human could learn. 38

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He smiled slightly. Yes, this beauty challenged him in a way he found most stimulating, both in body and mind. “Is there anything you want before I leave, beside more good advice regarding this new slave of yours?” Sextus asked. “I do not want more advice. However, please ask Ursula to come here.” “Good. It makes sense to have her pleasure you instead of—” Cyprian glanced at Sextus sharply. “I have great tolerance for you, my friend, but I’m reaching the end of it.” With a sigh, Sextus raised his eyes to the heavens. “I’m going. Exercise has made me hungry. I need something sweet and red, preferably from a curvaceous source willing to indulge cock and fang.” “Then go see to your needs rather than talk about them,” Cyprian growled. Sextus quickly donned his tunic and sandals then left the room, sword in hand. Moments later, Ursula stepped in. Her gaze swept Cyprian’s nude body and he didn’t miss the flicker of desire in her eyes. Over the years he had bedded her on occasion. Her enthusiasm never failed to please him, even when her skill did not. However, since Leotine’s arrival, no other woman caught his interest. He had no desire to sate his lust on anyone but the sultry hunter. “You wish to see me, Master?” “How has Leotine spent her time tonight?” “She had a meal in the kitchen then asked if she could be of help around the villa. She was very interested in making herself useful, so I allowed her to assist some of the female slaves in their duties.” Cyprian nodded. “I see. You may go now and send Leotine to me.” Ursula left to carry out Cyprian’s order.

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Just knowing that Leotine was on her way, that her lush body would soon be his again, made his cock swell. Cursing his own eagerness, he finally regained his selfcontrol. Leotine entered quietly. Her arousing feminine scent wafted on the air. Her thick chestnut hair was piled atop her head and she gazed at him with a particularly innocent expression in her large blue eyes. Cyprian resisted the urge to smile and his belly tightened with desire. He discarded the towel and stood, legs braced apart and arms folded across his chest. “Undress.” The tip of her tongue moistened her lips and she removed first her sandals then her tunic. The heady aroma of her increasing desire combined with her lustful expression aroused him nearly as much as the generous curves now exposed to his hungry gaze. He could scarcely wait to bury his cock inside her hot, wet sheath. Standing naked across the room, she reminded him of a breathing statue, though far more beautiful than any in his garden. “Come closer,” he ordered. Leotine approached, and when she stood within arm’s length, he unfastened her thick chestnut hair from atop her head. He ran his fingers through the soft tendrils, relishing the sensation. Everything about this woman, from her delicate scent to the strength in her eyes aroused him. Unlike most blood-drinkers faced with a hunter out to kill him, he had no desire to break her. It would be so much more gratifying to win her over. Turn her against her own kind and make her his. “I gave you the freedom to spend your hours away from me as you pleased, yet I hear you have chosen to work,” he said. “You have been more generous with me than any master could be but I want to earn my keep.” “You most certainly will.” He held her gaze while at the same time wrapping her hair around his hand until his fist pressed gently against the back of her head. Her large 40

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eyes stared into his. By the gods, they were beautiful, as blue as peacock feathers and intense enough to swallow his heart, if he let it happen. He’d survived so long because he’d learned to acknowledge human emotion but not allow it to control him. There were two kinds of blood-drinkers most dangerous to themselves—those who tried to deny that part of them would always be human and those who rebelled against what they considered the “curse” of blood drinking. To live as a blood-drinker, one must accept his connection to both races. Though he allowed himself to give and take pleasure with Leotine, he knew better than to surrender his heart to any woman, especially a hunter. He could be kind, yet must remain loyal only to himself, lest he be destroyed. “I intend for you to serve me well, Leotine, but you will have no complaint with me as your master. No more abandonment on the muddy streets. No more bruises.” He brushed gentle kisses across her cheek and eyelids. Her lashes fluttered, tickling his lips. When he released her, she continued staring at him as if entranced. Her creamy breasts, the nipples like ripe berries, rose and fell with each excited breath. The urge to suckle the taut buds and knead the smooth flesh surrounding them almost overtook him. Instead he turned and took another towel from the basket. He spread it on the floor and sat atop it then beckoned her with a crook of his finger. Without hesitation, Leotine set to work with the oil and strigil, cleaning him from neck to foot. When she’d finished, Cyprian washed quickly in the bath. Usually he enjoyed taking his time while bathing, but not tonight. He wanted to be alone in his chamber with Leotine, to feel her writhing beneath him, her heart throbbing in a rhythm coveted by blood-drinkers. When he stepped out of the water, Leotine waited with a towel in hand, her blue eyes filled with desire. He stood while she ran the towel over his shoulders and back. As she dried his chest, his sensitive hearing detected her quickening heartbeat.

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Regardless of her orders to kill him, this woman lusted after him. Cyprian raised his hands above his head and she scrubbed the towel over his armpits. She continued drying him, gently toweling his cock and balls then briskly rubbing the towel over his buttocks and down his legs. No sooner had she blotted his ankles than he jerked the towel from her hand and guided her to her feet. He wrapped the towel around her middle and swept her into his arms. “Enough waiting,” he said, unable to keep the roughness from his voice. By the gods, he ached for her so badly his cock was ready to burst. Still he reminded himself that she had not completely healed. It was wise to handle her with gentleness, at least for a few more days. Then he would see how receptive she was to harder play. Unaffected by his nudity, Cyprian walked through the house to his bedroom where he kicked the door closed before placing Leotine on the bed. He unwrapped the towel from her body as if opening a much anticipated gift. He stroked her soft flesh, lingering over her breasts. Unable to resist any longer, he bent and took a plump nipple between his lips. He sucked and rolled his tongue over it. Leotine gasped and panted with pleasure. She clutched Cyprian’s head closer and arched her back. The pounding of her heart nearly made him chuckle with satisfaction. She moaned her disapproval when he released her nipple but she needn’t have worried. All he’d wanted was to move to her other breast. He teased that nipple with equal enthusiasm. While he licked and sucked, he eased a hand between her legs and dipped his fingers into her damp pussy. “Oh please,” she cried as he slid the tip of a wet finger over her engorged nub. Nothing felt better than rubbing a lust-ridden woman until she shook with need. Nothing except filling her with his cock. Soon. Very soon. He continued stroking her, moving his fingertip in tantalizing circles over her tender nub. Lost in passion, she ran her hands through his hair and over his shoulders while thrusting against his teasing hand.

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Blood pounded through her body, stirring Cyprian’s bestial hunger. He recalled the previous night when she’d scraped her tongue against his fang and given him a taste of her delicious blood. Eventually he would have a deeper drink of her, but not tonight. A few more strokes of his finger and he knew she was ready. He covered her body with his and filled her with a long, slow thrust. By the time he reached his hilt, she came hard. Her wet pussy squeezed his cock in a heart-pounding rhythm. While she shook and writhed, Cyprian pumped into her. In spite of his desire, he didn’t forget her injuries and made an effort to be careful with her. She, on the other hand, didn’t seem at all concerned with gentleness. Her fingers tightened almost painfully in his hair and her legs locked around him as he drove her toward a second climax. “Oh yes. Oh please,” she moaned. Just before she came a second time, Cyprian covered her mouth in a fierce kiss. He absorbed her cry of fulfillment, then tore his lips from hers and came, his body straining and heartbeat echoing in his ears. He recovered far more quickly than she did and left the bed. After washing his hands in a basin of water, he looked at the meal he’d ordered to have waiting for him after exercise. Fruit, bread, cheese and wine. Though he had wealth enough to eat exotic food, Cyprian’s taste remained simple. He didn’t care to indulge in the types and quantity of food consumed by many wealthy Romans. Perhaps his taste in food as well as his lenient attitude toward his slaves had to do with his upbringing. No matter how his conditions had changed over the centuries, part of him would always be a farm boy. “What were you thinking of just now?” Leotine asked softly. He turned to find her watching him through sleepy eyes, her lush body completely relaxed upon the bed. “Nothing of importance.” “It’s just that you looked…sad almost.” Again her perceptiveness impressed him. Though he hadn’t actually been sad, memories of the past sometimes made him uneasy. In spite of how much time had 43

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passed, occasionally in a flash of intense memories, he’d feel as if he was the same fatherless child with little chance of becoming anything more than what he was. Even with a blood-drinker’s power, Cyprian had fought hard to achieve his position in society. Few remained who knew his humble beginnings. Sextus was among them. “Master?” Leotine sat up, an almost concerned expression in her eyes. “I was thinking of…nothing. It was a time long past. What would you like to eat? You must be hungry.” Her eyes sparkled. “You can rouse a woman’s appetite.” She rose from the bed and joined him in looking over the selection of food. Finally she chose grapes and cheese. Gazing at him, she said, “Come back to bed.” He took the wine and followed her to the bed. Leotine knelt beside him. Lowering her gaze, she plucked a grape then glanced back at him and held it to his lips. He took the sweet fruit from her fingertips. While he chewed, he watched her bite a grape in half and longed to feel her lips, teeth and tongue on his cock. “What do you enjoy?” he asked. “Excuse me?” “What makes you happy? Dancing? Long walks? Good food?” An endearing little smile spread across her lips. He realized it was so charming because it was absolutely genuine. “All those things are nice. I love spending time in the garden. Slaves don’t have the chance to enjoy gardens very often.” “Here you can. The garden is at your disposal any time you like.” Leotine sighed and glanced down at the grape rolling between her fingertips. “Why are you like this?” He knew exactly what she meant. Such displays of kindness from master to slave were rare. She wouldn’t be the first in his household to question his actions or his motives. Yet once he won a person over, few betrayed his loyalty. Cyprian prided

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himself in being a lenient master, but disobedience and disloyalty met with punishments as terrible as his indulgences were good. “I believe happy slaves serve better. Unless I’m given reason to punish him or her, I see no reason to mistreat any member of my household, be it man or beast.” “Few share your opinion,” she whispered, still toying with the grape. “Others are free to run their households as they see fit. This is mine. Now are you going to eat that grape or keep it for posterity?” She grinned and popped the purple fruit between her plump lips. An odd twinge darted through his chest. In spite of himself, he found her adorable. I hope to the gods that I win you over, Leotine, and you don’t become deserving of my wrath after all.

***** For days, Leotine continued the same pleasant routine. Cyprian told her he wanted her at ease in her new surroundings and completely recovered from the beating she’d suffered at Julius’ hands. Rather than live with the slaves, she was given a cubiculum close to his and allowed the freedom of the villa. Each night after he completed his exercises, he would summon her to the bath. She would oil and massage him, then they would make love and share a meal together. Afterward he went off to attend business, leaving her to spend her time however she desired. Later he would send for her again for more lovemaking. In spite of his vigor, he remained a gentle lover, at times almost frustratingly so, especially when he hinted at the sort of carnal plans in store after she’d fully recovered. Instead of his gentle though pleasurable touches, she longed for him to possess her like a beast. Claim her utterly. Her darkest, most fearful desire was for him to bite her, sink his fangs into her flesh while thrusting his steely cock into her cunt. That particular passion shamed and terrified her. She was born to We Who Serve Humanity. Her thoughts about this blood-drinker were filthy and despicable. Punishable by death from

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her kind, yet the longer she remained in Cyprian Augustus’ household, the more she began to question the values of her strict upbringing. When not occupied with Cyprian, she made a point to get to know the other slaves, particularly those in the kitchen. She had arrived with no weapons and when the time came to destroy Cyprian she would at least need access to a knife. More likely than not she would have no trouble finding a weapon. There always seemed to be one of his personal collection readily available, either a sword or a dagger. It was as if the fates were there, constantly reminding her of her duty. At one time, it would have been so simple to kill him. Lately she’d become frustratingly squeamish whenever she thought about plunging a blade through his heart. The same heart she would so often feel beating strong and steady against her face as she lay in the comfort of his arms. It troubled her how much she had come to enjoy being with him, both as a lover and a companion. When they talked over dinner, he listened to her with interest. The expression in his eyes ranged from amusement to raw lust to tenderness. Often she needed to remind herself that if she wasn’t careful, he could beat her at her own game. What had happened to the heartless bitch who was so respected within her faction’s ranks?

***** The following night, rather than call her to the bath, Cyprian asked her to come directly to his cubiculum. She found him already washed, lying naked atop the bed. As usual, one of his many swords rested against the wall. If the cunning beast ever fell asleep with her beside him, closed those beautiful eyes so she wouldn’t have to look into them when she struck, she could seize the opportunity to attack. At first she had thought a buildup of trust would be the best route to take, but lately she had started to believe that the faster she left his villa, the better. “Good evening, Leotine,” he said, glancing at her lazily, though his eyes had already taken on the inhuman glow she knew meant arousal. Not that she needed his

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eyes to tell her that. That state of his cock revealed it. His erection saluted her from its dark nest of wiry curls, a glimpse of the pleasure-filled night to come. “Good evening, Master.” He gestured with his hand for her to approach, his long fingers beckoning her with slow curling and straightening motions. Somehow he managed to make even that subtle movement arousing. She strolled to the bed in a leisurely fashion that gave her enough time to discard her clothes on the way so when she reached him she was naked. Sliding atop him, she pressed her knees and thighs to his lean sides and trailed her fingertips over his chest and collarbone. Cyprian studied her carefully. He ran his hands over her arms and legs then caressed her face. His fingertip traced her cheek where one of the cuts Julius had given her had faded to an almost imperceptible scar. “You’ve healed well. Do you feel as if you’ve adequately regained your strength?” “Yes, Master.” Her heart thrummed with anticipation. Perhaps now he would venture into the sort of lovemaking he’d been teasing her with. “Good. Tonight we’ll try something different. He reached to the floor then raised his hand. Manacles dangled from it. “Have you ever been bound, Leotine?” “As punishment?” He shook his head while grasping her hand gently in his, using his thumb to stroke her palm. “Not as punishment, but for pleasure.” “No, Master.” He snapped a manacle around first one of her wrists, then the other. Drawing a sharp breath, she stared at her bound hands. If he tied her, he could do just about anything to her. Maybe this was a form of punishment after all—one from the gods for her doubts about destroying a monster. Knowing how easily his kind smelled fear, she tried to keep control of herself. Too late.

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“A little fear is a good thing,” he said, standing and using the chain between her manacles to drag her to her feet. He tugged her across the room to where a small pike protruded from the wall. “It can keep one safe from impending danger, yet also enhance arousal through anticipation. You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you, Leotine? Wanting to be completely overpowered by someone who cares about your pleasure.” “You can’t care about me. I’m a slave.” He chuckled. “You don’t believe that. I’ve made it plain that I do not mistreat my slaves and have granted you more freedom than any other man would. And I can sense lies, Leotine. But you already knew that, didn’t you?” “What do you mean?” “Silence.” “I don’t understand—” His mouth covered hers in a rough kiss. His tongue thrust between her lips while one hand squeezed her left breast and his other cupped her soft mound, massaging lightly. After licking her bottom lip, he broke the kiss only to trail his tongue along the side of her neck. She stiffened, every muscle in her body taut as a bowstring when she felt his fangs press against her flesh. Gods, he was going to bite her, perhaps kill her. Even worse, make her one of his kind. Instead he closed his lips and kissed her from throat to breast. “You’ve been here long enough to know I can feel for my slaves,” he said quietly. A soft moan escaped her throat when he took her nipple between his lips and sucked. He licked and teased until the delicate bud was so sensitive that his touch was almost painful, then he moved to the other nipple. “Oh, Master,” she panted, her hands twisting in the bonds, her body arching closer to his.

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He dropped to his knees and rained kisses over her belly. The tip of his tongue swirled around her navel. Positioning himself so his mouth hovered over her clit and his breath stimulated her, he said, “Oh, Cyprian.” “What?” she panted. “When we make love, you don’t call me Master.” “I don’t?” He held her gaze, the expression in his eyes making her feel as if she was melting through the floor. “You never noticed?” “No. I meant no disrespect,” she breathed, squirming as he began licking her clit in the exact place and rhythm that drove her to near madness. During their time together, he had learned her body as well as she had learned his. He was the only man in the world who knew how to make her scream in ecstasy. During a moment’s pause in licking, he slipped one hand behind her. He used his fingertip to gently press against her sphincter while two fingers of his other hand slid into her passion-drenched cunt. “I like you to call me by name when I possess you,” he said. “If I didn’t, you would have been reprimanded long before now. Say my name, Leotine.” “Cyprian!” she cried, nearly insane with pleasure as he licked her clit while continuing to stimulate her cunt and sphincter with his hands. There was a slight pinch on her tender flesh then a tremendous burst of pleasure that flung her into another orgasm before she’d completely recovered from the first. This one lasted so long that she thought her heart would stop from sheer excitement. Finally he drew back, leaving her sagging against the wall, her body misted with sweat. Somewhere in the carnal haze she became aware of his ragged breathing, a sign of arousal that usually only preceded his climax. She opened her eyes enough to see him standing in front of her, a droplet of blood on his lower lip. His hand curled around his cock and pumped slowly. The muscles of his broad chest contracted as he sought to control his pleasure. 49

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The bastard had bitten her! Worst of all, she hadn’t cared. She’d enjoyed it. Wanted it. This had to end soon or else she would lose her soul to Cyprian Augustus.

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Chapter Four Cyprian released Leotine from the manacles. She leaned weakly against him, still trembling in the aftermath of intense pleasure. He lifted her over his shoulder so her head dangled down his back. “Umm,” she purred, running her hands over his taut buttocks, relishing the sensation of smooth flesh over hard muscles. Caressing her backside and legs, he strode to the bed and dropped her on it. Leotine uttered a sleepy sound and curled up against the pillow. “Giving up so soon, my pretty slave?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. “We’ve only just started.” He grasped the blanket and tore four strips from it. “Did you enjoy being restrained?” “Yes,” she murmured, surprised it was the truth. “Yes,” he repeated. “I knew you would. Though your body is bound, your spirit is free to experience your darkest desires without question or self-blame.” As he spoke he used the strips of blanket to bind her wrists and ankles to the bed so she lay completely exposed to him. Starting with one of her hands, he covered her entire body with kisses, leaving only her nipples and clit untouched. By the time he reached her feet, she was thoroughly aroused again. Her nipples ached for his touch and she longed to feel his tongue in that hot, throbbing place between her legs. Even better, she wanted him to claim her with long, hard thrusts of his cock. “Oh, Cyprian,” she breathed, straining against her bonds. “What?” “Touch me. Keep touching me. Please.” 51

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He loomed above her on his hands and knees, low growls rumbling in his chest. His teeth tugged at one of her nipples then the other before he lapped them with his tongue. He took one of the sensitive buds between his lips and sucked so hard that she cried out in pleasure-pain. “Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted, lost in sensation. He moved to her other nipple and sucked even harder. Leotine’s back arched and her fists tightened. Though she longed to hold him, she did feel freer than ever, helpless to his desires, yet at the same time powerful. By the look on his face and the hardness of his cock that continually brushed various parts of her body, she knew he was aroused. He positioned himself over her face, grasped his cock and pushed the head against her lips. She welcomed it, using her tongue to lave the crown and suck it until he groaned with delight. Finally he pulled away and sat back on his heels. His eyes gleamed with passion and he breathed quickly through parted lips. “Cyprian, take me. Oh gods, fill me with your cock.” He chuckled and stroked his shaft a few times. “Not yet.” “Yes. Now. Please!” If he didn’t take her soon, she’d come without any direct stimulation where she most wanted it. Long wet strokes of his tongue swept between her breasts and down her belly. When he licked her clit, her heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst through her chest. He licked just enough to bring her to the edge of fulfillment then paused, placed a hand on her lower belly and rubbed gently. That tender motion incited her desire even more. Again he lapped her swollen, sensitive flesh, teasing her clit relentlessly. He pulled away before she came, covered her body with his and thrust into her so swiftly she nearly lost her breath. “Oh! Yes. Oh, Cyprian.” Her voice took on an animalistic tone that shocked her, though he seemed to relish it. 52

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Covering her mouth in a fierce kiss, he thrust fast and hard. This powerful claiming of her body aroused her past the point of sanity. She became a writhing, throbbing demon of pure lust. He tore his mouth from hers and she shouted, “Cyprian.” “Yes, Leotine. Call my name. Tell me what you want.” “Fast. Hard. Oh yes. Oh gods. Oh!” With a primal shriek, she came, her body aflame and her heart throbbing mercilessly. He continued pounding into her, driving her toward another climax. He reached up with one hand then the other and broke her bonds. Leotine wrapped her arms around him and came longer and harder than she imagined possible. Somewhere in the midst of her passion she felt him join her in ecstasy.

***** Leotine awoke not even fully aware of having drifted to sleep. She must have collapsed sometime during the extended lovemaking session that would have challenged the stamina of a champion gladiator. Her entire body ached from overindulgence in carnal pleasures and she’d loved every moment. That terrified her. Since arriving at this villa, she no longer knew herself. If she didn’t leave soon, she would be completely lost to Cyprian. He lay beside her. By the sound of his breathing and the perfectly relaxed expression on his handsome face, he was deeply asleep. Her pulse skipped. This was the moment she’d been waiting for. He had finally trusted her enough to leave himself vulnerable to attack. A glance across the room revealed the sword still leaning against the wall. She left the bed, careful not to wake him, and crossed the room on shaky legs. Frustration and anger flooded her. She had never been weak like this before. Cyprian should be just 53

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another kill, or rather one she wanted more than any other. To destroy him would earn her great respect within the ranks of We Who Serve Humanity. Fixing her thoughts on duty, she grasped the sword and lifted it, noting it was small enough for her to handle easily. It was as if the sword was meant for her to use. She glanced across the room, half expecting to find him staring at her, yet he remained asleep on his back. She returned to the bed and gazed at his face that had become so comfortably familiar and his body that had given her such pleasure. Now, Leotine, or else you will never have the nerve again. Careful to keep her breathing under control, she straddled him, her weight balanced on her knees, careful not to touch him. Using both hands she raised the sword above her head, point down so she could easily drive it through his chest. At that moment, Cyprian opened his eyes. She drew a sharp breath and froze. “What’s wrong, hunter? You’ve taken the weapon I left for you as bait, but you hesitate to use it, puppet of Julius Titus?” he asked in a soft yet deadly voice. Leotine’s shock must have been apparent because he said, “Oh yes, I know all about Julius Titus’ connection to We Who Serve Humanity.” “How long have you known?” she asked, surprised by the steadiness of her voice. Why wasn’t he making a motion to disarm her? He could now. Probably quite easily. “About Titus? Years. About you? I suspected the moment I saw you.” “Then why—” “Why didn’t I kill you? Because unlike your kind, I prefer to kill in defense only.” His gaze held hers with such intensity, she felt as if he was flogging her soul. “You have a duty to carry out, do you not? You came here to seduce and kill me.” His voice, so deceptively soft, caressed the words, making them sound like love poetry instead of accusations.

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Leotine swallowed and gripped the sword harder, feeling lightheaded. She had destroyed countless blood-drinkers without compunction, but faced with this particular beast, the strength drained from her body. The sword suddenly felt too heavy. Her hands trembling, she forced herself to raise the blade higher for a death blow. Cyprian remained still, as if he intended to allow her to kill him. “You can do this, Leotine? Having made love with me, shared my food and my home. Having given me your blood, you can now kill me?” “I vowed to hunt until your kind is wiped from the earth.” “Why?” “You’re not human.” “And that is enough to justify driving a sword through my chest?” “How many mortals have you killed or converted, Cyprian? You have caused the downfall of at least fifty of my fellow hunters. For that you must die.” “In my own defense, I must point out that I didn’t look for your hunters. They sought me out. Came to my homes, my places of business with the intent to kill me for no better reason than the one you just gave. Because I’m different.” “Don’t make yourself out to be innocent in this.” “No man or woman is completely innocent. And in case you and your kind have chosen to forget, I didn’t kill all those hunters. Most of them willingly came to me once they realized the truth. It was hunters who killed their own kind. Staked, burned and mutilated my children, so to speak. The way I see it, my beauty, I have more right than you to seek vengeance.” “Converting our kind is how you seek vengeance.” That familiar smirk touched his lips. “Such a clever girl. Courageous as well to walk into my lair with the hope of killing me. One question remains, Leotine. Can you do it?” Though his gaze remained unflinching upon her, she felt him tense as she drove the sword downward—and stopped just before piercing his chest.

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His hand closed over hers on the sword and tears sprang into her eyes. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t.” She relinquished her hold on the weapon and he placed it aside then pulled her near, his arms wrapped securely around her. Leotine closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was surprisingly quick. Apparently their confrontation had placed as much strain on him as it had on her. Despite her decision not to kill him, their problems had just begun. “I knew from the moment we met you’d be mine, Leotine,” he said, burying his hand in her hair and tilting her face toward his. His kiss was both tender and possessive. Her eyes closed, Leotine savored his taste, scent and feel, knowing it would be the last time. Cyprian broke their kiss only to trail his lips across her cheek and jaw line to her neck where he licked, tickling and teasing her flesh. “We’ll belong to each other forever, Leotine. As I knew we would from the first.” At the touch of his fangs against her throat, she pulled back. “No,” she stated, struggling against his unbreakable hold. “Cyprian, don’t.” He loosened his grip, though he refused to let her go. His brow furrowed. “You love me, Leotine. Whether you’re willing to admit it or not, you do. That’s why you can’t kill me.” “Just because I can’t kill you doesn’t mean I will become like you. It goes against everything I’ve ever believed.” “This is hardly the time to stand on principle.” “It is exactly the time.” She held his gaze steadily, for once not allowing herself to melt when faced with his beautiful green eyes. Though she admitted her feelings for him and knew she could never bring herself to destroy him, she was still loyal to her faction. “Why did you become a hunter, Leotine?”

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“I was born into We Who Serve Humanity.” He nodded, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I suspected as much. You might have been raised to think you know everything about my kind, but now you must realize you’re wrong.” “You’ve never given me reason to hate you, Cyprian, unless you count this entire seduction. This is punishment for my arrogance. I believed I could defeat you when all others have lost. You’ve won again, Cyprian Augustus. I failed in killing you and I will not become like you.” Frustration gleamed in his eyes. “This is madness, Leotine. I can force you.” “But you won’t because you know I would return to my faction so they could put me out of my misery.” “Misery? Do I look miserable to you? Is the life I offer you one of toil and pain such as you’ve endured while serving your precious faction?” This time Leotine smiled and placed a hand to his cheek. “Maybe I didn’t fail so utterly. You do care for me, don’t you?” “Will my answer influence your decision?” “No.” “Then you will have no answer.” He stood abruptly, sending her tumbling backward. Naked, he stalked the room like some antagonized beast, his eyes flashing. “You realize what this means?” he snapped. “I have shown mercy to hunters by allowing them to join me in immortality.” “And those who didn’t, you’ve killed. I know. You think I didn’t study everything about you before coming here?” “Damn you, Leotine.” He glared. One moment he was standing across the room, the next he pinned her to the bed. Holding her wrists on either side of her head, he drew his lips back over his fangs.

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“Please don’t,” she said quietly, her heart pounding. Though her body cried out for his bite, her soul was not prepared. “If you feel anything for me at all you’ll kill me rather than make me something I’ve despised all my life.” Slowly he closed his mouth. His jaw taut and eyes gleaming with anger, lust and regret, he shook his head. “I’m prepared to die,” she said. “I’d rather you live,” he whispered against her lips and kissed her, his tongue stroking hers aggressively, yet with each warm, wet thrust she felt the depth of his affection for her. Finally the kiss broke, leaving her with a feeling of utter sadness. How could she endure the rest of her life without ever feeling his kiss again? His lips brushed her temple and he murmured, “Damn you, beautiful bitch.” He rolled off her and stood, his arms folded across his chest. “Cyprian—” “Go, Leotine. You may take a horse from my stable. Don’t bother returning it.” “You’ll let me leave?” “Get out,” he snarled, turning on her like a rabid animal, his eyes gleaming and fangs exposed. “Or I might change my mind.” She opened her mouth and drew a sharp breath, wanting to say something but unsure of which words to choose. A bestial growl from him changed her mind. She reached for her tunic and pulled it on as she hurried out of the room.

***** Shortly after Leotine left, Sextus entered Cyprian’s chamber. “You let her go,” the servant said. “Yes,” Cyprian replied from where he lay on the bed, naked and staring at the ceiling. “You’ve never done that before.”

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“No. I haven’t. You were right, my friend. My arrogance has destroyed me after all.” Sextus approached, his brow furrowed. “Cyprian?” “Leotine said I had won our battle of wills but she was wrong.” “I don’t understand.” “I know that for the remainder of my life, no matter how long it might be, not a night will pass that I won’t want her beside me.” “Eventually you will forget her.” With a savage growl Cyprian rose from the bed. His hand clamped around Sextus’ throat and he pinned him to the wall. “Never! You and I have lived our lives as gluttons, using our power to take everything we want. But we’ve never loved. Don’t you ever long for something more? I don’t mean wealth or power. Or even blood. It’s something I can’t…” Cyprian sighed and released Sextus. “I’m sorry, my friend. The fault lies with me.” Rubbing his neck, Sextus glared at Cyprian with a combination of anger and sympathy. “I loved once. Long ago and it was an incomparable feeling, but I was mortal. So was she. It didn’t last forever. After she died, I missed her greatly. Sometimes I miss her still, yet I wonder, could our love have survived centuries? It is different among blood-drinkers.” Cyprian walked slowly across the room. Through the open door he could see rain falling into the pool in the atrium, heard it pelt against the rooftop. It had been raining on the night he’d found Leotine, or rather on the night she’d come to him with plans to kill him. They had been such fools. In their attempt to outsmart one another, they had fallen in love. Cyprian knew he must flee Rome, at least for a time. As soon as she reported back to her superiors that he was still alive, they’d send others for him. This time there would probably be no deception. They wouldn’t assign one crafty female but might send several warriors armed with weapons meant to destroy a blood-drinker. Those 59

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particular hunters valued their secrecy. They didn’t like making obvious attacks that drew much attention but would do so if driven to it. Yes, he and Sextus must leave Rome tonight, as would his blood-drinker servants. The mortals would be safe enough to leave behind and continue with the villa’s upkeep. Many of their families had served him for centuries and had cared for his property during his many journeys abroad. He could escape, but what of Leotine? Hunters by nature were cruel and unforgiving. What would they do with a failure? Worse than a failure, one of their kind who had fall in love with a blood-drinker. To them nothing was worse. Leotine would no doubt be punished. How severely, Cyprian couldn’t begin to guess. Perhaps they would put her to death now that she had turned traitor in their eyes. “Cyprian, you know we cannot stay here,” Sextus said. “Others will come for you. For us.” “Prepare to leave tonight. Inform the rest of our household that everyone is to follow the usual procedure.” Sextus headed for the door. He paused before stepping out and glanced at Cyprian over his shoulder. “For what it’s worth, at least she returned your feelings. Had she not been poisoned by We Who Serve Humanity, she might have stayed with you. Then you would have had the chance to see if your love could last.” “I believe they will kill her, Sextus.” “That is likely.” Cyprian nodded. “Continue with your duties. We haven’t much time.”

***** Leotine stood in the atrium of Julius Titus’ home, doing her best to keep her anger in check. Rather than look at the man, lest she surrender to the urge to do him physical harm, she fixed her gaze on one of the painted walls.

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The faction leader spoke sharply. “We cannot excuse this, Leotine. It’s bad enough you failed to kill Cyprian Augustus, but you also left him with the knowledge that we’re hunting him.” “He knew about us long before I came.” “But not when or where we intended to strike. Now he’ll be more watchful than ever. We’ll be lucky if he stays in Rome long enough for your replacement to succeed where you failed.” “You sent someone else already?” She had returned just hours ago and during that time Julius had only left her briefly. Apparently he had used that moment to assign another warrior to Cyprian. “As soon as you told me he still lives. Not that it matters. It’s a two-day journey to his villa. He is probably gone by now. We’ll have to seek him out all over again. This is beyond inconvenient. How could you have been so incompetent? I’m sorely disappointed in you.” Leotine couldn’t care less what Julius thought. She hoped Cyprian had fled. The thought of him dying shook her to the core. Why had she been such a fool, returning to Julius and the cold world of hunters when she could have spent her life with Cyprian? “Wait here, Leotine,” Julius ordered and left the atrium. Sighing, she paced the room. As soon as Julius dismissed her, she would return to Cyprian. If she traveled night and day while changing horses frequently, there was a chance she could reach his villa before the hunter Julius had sent. She turned sharply as four armed guards stepped inside and advanced on her. “What are you doing?” she demanded. The first man reached for her and she knocked his hand aside. The others drew their weapons, but her training kicked in—training no average Roman woman would have been allowed. We Who Serve Humanity had taught her.

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Now she turned those lessons against them. She dodged the guards’ thrusting blades and grasping hands. Her fierce kick struck the nearest man’s groin. When he bent in pain, she rammed her elbow into the base of his skull. Two more men grasped her arms and she fought like a fury until the last guard pressed the tip of his sword to her throat. Panting, she stood still, glaring at Julius who watched the spectacle from the doorway. “We can’t have you running back to the beast, can we?” he said, striding toward her. He shook his head and cupped her chin in his hand. Leotine instinctively jerked away and he continued, “It’s a pity we spent years on your training, preparing you for the likes of Cyprian Augustus. He won again. What is it about him? Is it his mind powers? Or does he have a golden cock? Tell me, Leotine. Help me understand why you chose him over us?” “I’m finished telling you every detail of my life,” she snapped. “That privilege is only reserved for him now, isn’t it?” Julius sighed. “With the proper handling, you might be salvaged. We will hold you until we decide exactly what to do with you. Know this, Leotine, if Cyprian Augustus has left Rome I don’t know if I’ll be able to protect you against severe punishment. There will be a meeting and—” “Spare me the details. I know every aspect of our society better than anyone.” “That attitude has led to your downfall. Hold her hard,” Julius ordered and the guards tightened their grips, their gloved hands digging painfully into her arms and legs. Julius stepped closer and stuck her across the face. Leotine spat a mouthful of blood at him, spraying the front of his crisp white tunic, and said, “Just as I suspected, Julius. Violence excites you. It’s the only thing left that can excite you. You are an impotent, pathetic excuse for a man who hunts and kills to replace emotions like love and lust.”

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His face contorted with rage that only reinforced her suspicions regarding him. “You don’t know anything about me.” “I know everything about you, Julius, because I was just like you.” “You are nothing like me. I am loyal.” “No. You’re just a twisted little man who has attempted to use the faction to gain respect.” “You’re a traitor, Leotine. None of your insults toward me will change that. I will see you have much time to ponder your errors.” Julius’ lip curled and he motioned for the guards to take her away.

***** For days Leotine remained locked in a tiny windowless cell with no light and just enough food and water to keep her alive. Julius had only spoken to her once to tell her Cyprian’s villa had been nearly deserted. He and most of his slaves were nowhere to be found. The ones left behind were mortals and knew nothing of their master’s whereabouts. Because Cyprian had escaped, she would be brought before the faction elders for her punishment to be determined. Hungry, cold and alone, she considered her life. All she’d known was deceit and violence. She’d been taught to hate a race she never really knew. The short time she’d spent with Cyprian had been more fulfilling than the years she’d dedicated to We Who Serve Humanity. The name itself now evoked questions. Did they really serve humanity by segregating it from a people who were in many ways superior to it? At the very least blood-drinkers like Cyprian were willing to live in peace, providing they were left alone. The sound of a bolt sliding on her door caught her attention and she turned toward the glow of a lantern. She squinted at the light after so many days in darkness. “Leotine?” That hushed voice sent her heart beating out of control. 63

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“Cyprian?” She stepped toward him. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, her beloved came into view. He wore a dark tunic and cloak, a bloodied sword at his hip. Sweat misted his rather pale face and she noted lines of tension around his mouth. “Come quickly,” he said, extending his hand. Without hesitation she slipped hers into it, scarcely believing he was here. He guided her through the atrium toward the garden. Several of Julius’ guards sprawled on the floor. Three lay in pools of blood. The rest had broken necks. In the garden, Julius, his dead face twisted in horror, floated in the fishpond. A coach driven by one of Cyprian’s servants waited outside the house. Sextus leaned out the back, sword in hand, his glowing eyes sweeping the area. “Get in,” Cyprian ordered, pushing her into the coach and climbing in behind her. The coach rolled forward. Turning to Cyprian, Leotine asked, “Why did you come for me?” In reply, he pulled her into his arms. She tightened her embrace and he grunted in pain. Wincing, he pressed a hand to his chest. Instantly she pulled back and was horrified to see that his dark tunic was damp with blood. “Gods, you’re hurt!” “It’s nothing. One of Julius Titus’ slaves got lucky flinging a dagger while I was distracted by the guards.” With Julius’ home so heavily protected by hunters, it surprised Leotine that Cyprian had succeeded in freeing her. It seemed he lived up to his reputation as one of the most dangerous blood-drinkers ever known. Sextus cut away Cyprian’s bloody tunic and inspected the wound located frighteningly close to his heart. “Lie down,” Leotine ordered. He collapsed backward, his breathing shallow. “I’ve had worse.” 64

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“And every time I’m the one stuck putting you back together,” Sextus snapped, quickly mixing herbs and water in a mug. “I told you not to flirt with danger.” Cyprian cast Leotine a sidelong glance and said, “I can think of nothing better to flirt with. Danger is irresistible, you see.” “Just be quiet until we tend that wound,” Leotine ordered, smoothing hair from his damp forehead. “Make him drink this.” Sextus handed Leotine the mug which she held to Cyprian’s lips. He drank deeply then leaned back while Sextus began cleaning the wound. “You could have been killed,” Leotine said. “So could you.” He grunted. “Sextus, you’re causing more harm than good. That’s flesh and blood, you heavy-handed oaf.” “Silence,” the servant snapped. “If this injury was the slightest bit over to the side you’d be dead.” “What did you come here for?” Leotine repeated her earlier question, relieved to see that his bleeding had already stopped, thanks to his blood-drinker physique. “We’re on our way to the Far East and I thought you might like to come.” Leotine’s heart fluttered with joy. “Well?” he asked. “I will come.” “There is a condition.” “Yes?” She guessed, even hoped, what it might be. “I want you to marry me.” “You think this is the place to propose such a thing?” Sextus demanded. “Silence, Sextus,” Cyprian and Leotine said in unison. “Yes,” she said. “I’ll marry you. Are there any more conditions?”

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“No. Only a question. Will you consider becoming like me, a blood-drinker? I know you might need time to think about it. I dislike being patient, yet I can be. And if you choose not to, I will cherish you for the length of your mortal life, Leotine.” Excitement, tremendous affection and a hint of fear filled her, making her tingle from head to toe. Not fear of Cyprian but of taking the final step toward severing all ties with We Who Serve Humanity. “Yes,” she said. “I will become like you.” In spite of the pain from his wound, he smiled and lifted his hand to her face. “That’s the best I can do,” Sextus said, wiping his bloody hands on a scrap of cloth. “Rest until tomorrow and you should recover completely. I’ll see to the rest of our escape plans.” The servant glanced at Leotine. “Give him some of your blood and he’ll heal faster.” Cyprian motioned for Leotine to come closer. He blinked slowly, his expression sleepy from herbs and blood loss. She lay alongside him, overcome with tenderness for his uncharacteristically vulnerable state. No words could express her gratitude for him freeing her in more ways than simply releasing her from Julius’ clutches. As if sensing their need for privacy, Sextus called for the driver to stop and joined him in the front of the coach. Once they began moving again, Leotine covered Cyprian’s face with kisses. “I’ve answered all your questions, Cyprian Augustus, but I once asked one of you and you refused to answer. I would like a reply now.” “I remember the question,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. “The answer is yes, Leotine. I care for you. In fact, I love you. It was only after you left that I realized how much and that I needed to try once more to convince you that we belong together.” She smiled and brushed his mouth with a kiss. “Good thing you did.” “You please me, Leotine. You please me greatly.”

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“And you please me.” “I fully intend to as soon as I’m recovered.” “I’ll hold you to that.” She placed her neck over his lips. His fangs pierced her flesh but there was no pain. While he drank, she closed her eyes and caressed his hair, truly happy for the first time in her life.

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Epilogue It had been almost a century since Cyprian and Leotine had visited Rome. Fifty years after they’d initially fled to the Far East, they returned because both wished for their first child, Cypria, to be born on Roman soil. Children created by traditional means were rare among blood-drinkers, so the couple considered themselves blessed when just twenty years after, they had a son, Marcus. Now, a hundred years later, they were thrilled to know they would soon be grandparents. Cypria and her senator husband were about to welcome the next generation into their line. Cypria and her husband Antony had taken up residence in Cyprian’s old villa. For decades there had been no sign of We Who Serve Humanity in Rome, but it wasn’t unusual for them to appear and fade as mysteriously as the blood-drinkers they hunted. “It will be so nice to spend time in the place where we first fell in love.” Leotine smiled and tightened her arms around Cyprian from where she sat in back of him on his horse. “Yes, and I look forward to meeting our grandson.” “It might be a granddaughter.” He grunted and she playfully slapped him on the shoulder. Upon approaching the well-kept white and red buildings, Leotine felt a wave of old memories, some bad but most good. She never would have thought on that night so long ago when Julius Titus had left her beaten, her heart filled with hatred for all blooddrinkers, that she would fall in love with one. No sooner had they dismounted than Antony hurried to greet them. “Perfect timing,” Antony said. “The child was born last night. Come meet him.”

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“Him.” Cyprian smirked, glancing at Leotine. “I told you.” Cypria met them in the atrium, a squirming bundle in her arms. She smiled. “Mother. Father. I’m so glad you’re finally here.” She accepted kisses from both parents, then placed the bundle in Leotine’s arms and said, “Meet Vincentius.” “Cyprian, look. He has your nose.” “Lucky boy.” Cyprian winked. “Let us hope he doesn’t inherit your overdeveloped sense of self-importance,” Leotine teased, running a fingertip down the infant’s plump cheek. She passed the child to Cyprian. Gazing into his grandson’s face, Cyprian’s smile momentarily faded. An icy sensation he hadn’t felt in years crept down his spine. He ignored it, certain it was only a result of normal concerns every blood-drinker experienced when faced with such a vulnerable new member of his line. Then he realized what bothered him. This child’s thoughts were open to his. The mind powers possessed by most blood-drinkers were already present. That was rare in one so young. “Are you all right?” Leotine asked, placing a hand on Cyprian’s arm. Vincentius uttered a soft sound and Cyprian smiled, the icy sensation fading as if it had never been. “Yes. Everything is well.” Once the baby was returned to his mother, Cyprian and Leotine followed a slave to their cubiculum. “Rather like old times?” Leotine grinned, slipping her arms around Cyprian’s neck. “Rather.” He opened the traveling pouch on his waist and removed manacles. “It has been a long journey and I need some exercise to unwind.” “Umm,” she purred, cupping the bulge in the front of his tunic, “I’m sure we can find something vigorous enough to satisfy you.”

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“You know with our kind vigor increases with age.” “So I’ve heard but yet to see,” she teased. “Then let me show you.” He swept her into his arms and tossed her onto the bed. Without preamble he raised her tunic, lifted her legs over his head and began licking her in a manner that never failed to drive her into a frenzy. “Cyprian, oh gods!” She panted, entwining her fingers in his hair. Tell me you love me, his spirit voice spoke in her head, a method of communication used often by blood-drinkers and also by some gifted mortals. Cyprian and Leotine had avoided that particular intimacy during their first deceitful days together. Now they indulged in it freely. I love you, Cyprian Augustus. I love you with all my heart. Leotine gasped when his tongue found the spot where she most loved to be touched. My heart is yours, Leotine. That was the only possession she would ever want or need.

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About the Author Kate Hill is a thirty-something vegetarian New Englander who likes heroes with a touch of something wicked and wild. Her short fiction and poetry have appeared in publications both on and off the Internet. When she’s not working on her books, Kate enjoys reading, working out, and researching vampires and Viking history.

Kate welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Also by Kate Hill Ancient Blood: Cryptic Trysts Ancient Blood: Darkness Therein Ancient Blood: Deep Red Ancient Blood: God of the Grim Ancient Blood: Immaculate Ancient Blood: In Black Ancient Blood: Infernal Ancient Blood: Revenge of the Court Jester Ancient Blood: The Blood Doctor Ancient Blood: The Holiday Stalking By Honor Bound anthology Forever Midnight anthology Horsemen 1: Dream Stallion Horsemen 2: Captive Stallion Horsemen 3: Highland Stallion Knights of the Ruby Order 1: Torn Knights of the Ruby Order 2: Crag Knights of the Ruby Order 3: Lock Knights of the Ruby Order 4: Mica Midnight Desires Moonlust Privateer

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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