Bound by the Vampire Queen (Vampire Queen #8)

Lyssa's hands closed on his forearms, and she pressed her face into his neck. He could tel she was listening to his heart, that reassurance of life, and he laid his head down on hers as she spoke against his flesh. “They hunted us for decades after that. She couldn't risk any show of love for my father, even simple bedtime stories about his people. She was the one who taught me to hide any evidence of my Fae blood. It was to appease both races, and that saved my life. When they eventual y stopped trying to murder us, the Council believed it was because their spies confirmed I wasn't demonstrating any Fae capabilities. I wasn't growing up as a stark example of a mutation between species.”

She drew a breath. “It seems odd that it was so long ago, yet I can stil feel the pain of that. Maybe all this has sharpened the edge of it again. Soon after the attempts stopped for good, my mother chose to meet the sun. I think the ultimate cause was grief.

The loss of my father, the strain of protecting me, of having to be on her guard constantly. There was no one in her life she could ever trust, not truly. My father had the largest part of her heart, and his loss was a sorrow that always haunted her.

“For years I was viciously angry at how the Fae had treated her, though rational y I knew it was the Fae leadership of that time, not the entirety of the race.” She gave a smal , bitter half chuckle. “I was trained to be rational, no matter the emotions I felt.

She taught me that, too. However, my refusal to learn anything about the Fae, continuing long into my maturity, was my one smal rebel ion, and of course a foolish one, since it's best to know all one can about friends or enemies. Quite often during a thousand years, they swap sides.”

She shrugged. “Time passes, and when I might have learned more, I was busy with other things with my own people. So that's why I don't know many stories.”

“But she did tel you something, because you started growing roses.”

“Yes. I'd see her sitting in her bedroom next to the rose he gave her, fingers whispering over the petals.

It wasn't until later I learned his fate, and then I realized she was imagining it was him, her fingers touching the rose bush he'd become. One night, her loneliness and sadness must have overcome her, because she came to me in my bed. When she was wrapped around me, her mouth against my ear so no one else could possibly hear, she whispered that I should never doubt how very much my father had loved me.”

He loved us more than his own life, his own happiness. And that is a very great love indeed.

She tilted her head back. “So I am no longer an angry child, Sir Vagabond. Tel me what I need to know. Tel me the things you think are more fact than stories.”

Jacob lifted a shoulder. “Fae lore is so varied, my lady. There are commonalities among regions, of course. It's said the original Fae were like gods, with great powers. They worshipped the Goddess Danu, and were cal ed the Tuatha de Danaan. Their king had an array of magical weapons that made him undefeatable. A spear and bow no enemy could survive, a cauldron that gave limitless amounts of food to a moving army. A harp that, when played, could drive a person to suicidal despair or euphoric happiness.”

Jacob shifted her deeper into the vee between his thighs, his hands spanning her waist, stroking her hips. “As man and Fae drew apart, those Fae disappeared into the earth. Others say that the remaining Fae diminished in size, becoming smal er and smal er. Like the little mother and her baby. They rode on grasshopper or squirrel mounts. I think it's far more likely that they've always existed in a variety of shapes and sizes. At one time, almost any otherworldly creature was considered part of the Fae. Hobgoblins, giants, trol s, gnomes . . .”

“For a man who doesn't trust the Fae, you know a lot about them,” she teased, caressing his jaw.

“It's the reason I don't trust them,” he pointed out.

“Just imagine the stories I heard about vampires.” She smiled at that. “Yet, you came looking for me.”

“Well, Gideon did say I was the pretty brother, not the smart one.”

“Only a smart-mouthed one.” She tugged his hair, but settled down comfortably enough, stroking his knee. The sun was going to rise soon. She surveyed their surroundings careful y, gauging whether any of the sun beams could penetrate their position. He wasn't deep underground, but the forest was ancient and dense. He should be fine as long as the sun here fol owed a predictable east to west track. She felt his reluctance to close his eyes and leave her on guard duty.

“Sleep, Jacob,” she said firmly. “It's no different than when we were in the mountains. One watches while the other sleeps, so we each get some rest.”

“In which case, you sleep first, my lady. I'l need more sleep as the day moves toward noon. You sleep now, and I'l sleep from noon to dusk.” Despite her concern for him, it made sense. Plus the blood seemed to have restored him. Adjusting to slip her arms fully around him, she pil owed her cheek on his chest again. She sighed as he banded his arm more securely around her back, fingers stroking her hair along her spine. Then she started humming.

Jacob recognized one of the lul abies he used to lul Kane to sleep. Being young vampires, both he and his son had to go to sleep right before dawn, something she sometimes teased him about.

However, it was one of the best times of day, for often he would cradle Kane in his arms as they lay in their wide bed. The babe would play with fingers and toes, his own and his father's, and sometimes Jacob let the little fangs pierce him at the wrist or throat, a smal sip of his father's blood. While he held him, he'd hum the songs, rock him, eventual y shift him ful onto his chest so his heartbeat could help the child fal asleep.

Enjoying the feel of him there, Jacob would drift off that way as well , his arm tucked around him. He'd awake briefly when Lyssa came to put the babe into his crib. As she did, she'd press a maternal kiss to each of their brows. Sometimes he'd lift his head to meet her mouth for a far more suggestive mating, trying to coax her into the bed with him for a while.

However, other times he let it be what it was, enjoying that tranquility.

Now he held her tighter, rocked her a little, because the hummed lul aby put them in the same place, reaching out to Kane with the shared memory of their evening ritual. It also helped soothe her, though he could tel from her mind she was already calm. Exceptional y so, but he knew this side of her, as he knew the matching side in himself. Calm and steady might not mean prepared, because it was difficult to prepare for the unknown, but it was the best way to meet it.

As her voice drifted off, he took up the song.

Looking up, he saw a smal group of Fae about the size of the irritated mother, as well as another handful of insect Fae, had lighted on a branch above them, listening. These insect Fae were like crickets, bearing fiddles. Delightful y, they began to accompany his lul aby in chirping notes. Thinking of the music he'd heard when they crossed the portal, Jacob recal ed the Fae loved few things as much as music and dancing. Higher up, he saw other eyes.

Birds here and there, roosting for the night. A long limbed mocha-skinned Fae who might be some form of goblin, clad in little more than a loincloth.

He'd stretched out on a branch, the curves of his body molded to it like it was a hammock. He appeared to be listening to the lul aby as well , his lips split back from yel ow sharp teeth in a disconcerting yet sleepy grin. Just above him, Jacob caught the quick movement of a squirrel, fluffing her tail and curling it around her nest of three squirrel pups.

Having so recently touched the dryad, Jacob also sensed the spirit of the tree tuning in to their energy, to all the life resting within and upon it. Remembering the young female's face, the tears that rol ed down her cheeks, he wished her well , hoping no more il befel her. He also wished they knew her name.

The dryad's situation, Lyssa's story about her mother, and the stories he knew were laced with as much danger as delightful enchantment. This wasn't Disney, no matter what it felt like. They wouldn't be coming to the queen's court to sing “Kumbaya” together.

Still, he'd learned never to waste the pleasure of holding his sleeping lady in his arms. Singing to her, knowing she trusted him enough to lose herself in dreams—that was enough for this moment.

When he woke her at noon, he noted the debilitating lethargy he typical y experienced from the sun at its peak was absent. The Fae world might have a more energizing impact on him than expected, an uplifting thought.

Mindful of his need to stay sharp, he made himself shut his eyes and fal into a restorative slumber while the sun made its afternoon sojourn. Despite his faith in Lyssa's capabilities, his instincts didn't sleep.

Which was why just past dusk, he surged up out of the shelter, pushing Lyssa away from the blade swinging toward them. Ducking the arc of the sword, he hit its wielder mid-body, rol ing them away from his lady. Unfortunately, before he could scramble off their attacker, he was pul ed off and flipped over, a boot planted in his chest. It held him against the fal en Fae, as another blade pointed at his throat.

He blinked up at a man with wide shoulders, and the unmistakable demeanor of a veteran soldier.

While Jacob expected all high-court Fae to be specimens of physical perfection, like vampires, this one had a wide, jagged scar down the side of his face. A breath closer and it would have taken his eye. The Fae had steady steel gray eyes, a rugged, lined countenance. Silver strands shot through the long dark hair parted over the pointed ears. The tunic over his silver mail bore a white dragon on a blue field.

“Noric was intending to swat you awake with the flat of the blade, vampire, not cut you in half. But good reflexes for a parasite. Noric, you should have anticipated.”

Shoving the blade away, Jacob rol ed to his feet.

“Where I come from, a simple good evening and a cup of coffee to wake me would have sufficed.” Lyssa stood with regal dignity at the opening to their shelter, studying the new arrivals with her usual inscrutable expression. Now the male addressed her as if Jacob had not spoken at all.

“I am Cayden, captain of the Queen's Guard. We are here to escort you to Her Majesty the Lady Rhoswen's court.”