Bound by the Vampire Queen (Vampire Queen #8)

That you are no longer a true vampire, according to their narrow standards. It matters not how powerful a Fae you are. Even if you could blow every one of their limited minds out of their skul s, they would not accept you.”

“I think you underestimate the nature of the Council's narrow-mindedness, even with your adept spies,” Lyssa responded. “Power is irresistible currency, regardless of its form. I will take my chances with them before I will submit to a consort of your choosing. I have chosen my consort, and will never choose another, not in your world or mine.”

“A vampire.” When Rhoswen's tone dripped with scorn, Lyssa responded with a harsh note of laughter.

“You style yourself so different from the vampires, Your Majesty, but in truth you share the same prejudices. Not too long ago, my world came apart and I faced my death. It was then I learned something very important, something I shal never forget, no matter what role I have to play in any intrigue concocted by you or the vampire world. When it comes to Jacob, I don't give a damn what any of you think.”

Though emotion swel ed in his chest as her declaration echoed off the wal s, Jacob could tel things were taking a bad turn once more. It would be back to a physical contest of will s in no time. Queen Rhoswen vacil ated so quickly between cold anger, outright violence and indifferent flippancy, it was impossible to form a stable impression of her at this point.

Cayden was another matter. Jacob had been keeping his attention on the male. His body language wasn't merely responding to Jacob's passive threat, but to his queen's words, telegraphing the direction her moods might go.

Jacob cleared his throat, drawing the male's gaze.

Unfortunately, since it was silent again, the sound shifted everyone's attention to them. Regrettable, but he was committed now. Dropping the point of the blade, Jacob wiped the blood on it on his jeans' leg, then extended the weapon, pommel first, to the guard captain. When Cayden took it, giving him a measured glance, Jacob offered a nod and a gesture, advance warning of his intention to move back to the side of his lady. Once there, he dropped to one knee, bowing his head. “My lady . . . Your Majesty . . . may I have leave to speak?” If I say no, will it matter?

Far more than if she denies me. He gave her a sense of what he intended in a flash of words and images. It surprised her, but she gave him tacit agreement in a spare nod.

“Speak, vampire,” the Fae queen agreed. “If I tire of your voice, I will silence you.”

Fair enough. Thanks to the considerable healing powers he'd inherited from Lyssa, his nose had already mended, the hole in his gut closed, but they were sore as hell . And damn it all, he'd need more of her blood to fortify him soon. But for now, he was holding.

“Your Majesty, my ancestors were from Hibernia, the wintry, green land. Ireland. You asked if my lady understood the Fae, knew their history. There is a story I beg your leave to share.” Averting his gaze, he dipped his head, a deferential motion, one well -

practiced from his time on the Faire circuit. It was one that intrigued the female visitors, old and young alike. He was not intending flirtation, but he was an experienced storytel er, and he wasn't opposed to using his ful arsenal to intrigue the Fae queen.

Particularly if it avoided another life or death situation.

“A long time ago, when there was more congress between our two worlds, a human prince met up with a Fae one. By accident, the human prince kil ed a stag meant for the Fae prince. As recompense, the Fae prince said that they would change places for a year. He would appear as the human prince in the prince's world, and the human prince would appear as the Fae one in the Fae world. The human prince was an honorable man, and so he agreed. The term was for a year and a day.

“While the human prince was not yet married, the Fae prince had a wife, a woman of great beauty, in spirit and physical form. She would be nigh irresistible to any man, as one would expect of Fae royalty.”

A cold smile touched Rhoswen's lips, recognizing the charm. A similar flash of wry humor came from his Mistress, with a slight edge. Don't tell your story too well, Sir Vagabond.

He pressed on, noting that Keldwyn was also listening. “Each night, when the human prince came to the Fae princess, he would lie in their bed and hold her, but he would not claim her, even though the Fae prince had not denied him this. During the course of that year, the Fae princess of course grew very sad, thinking her husband's affections had left her. But after the year and a day was over, the two males traded places again.

“The human prince was surprised to find that the Fae prince had been a wise and generous ruler, and left his kingdom even more prosperous, taking no advantage of anything but the adventure of living as a human being. When the Fae prince came to his wife, and saw her great sadness, he revealed to her what had transpired. She told him how the human prince had honored her husband, and said that the Fae prince had indeed found a great and true friend.

They remained so for many years after that, until of course time took its tol and the human prince passed from his mortal coil.”

“A pretty tale, one I've heard,” Rhoswen said at length. “But what is your purpose in tel ing it, vampire?”

“I value this story for two reasons. First, it underscores the honor and loyalty a man owes a lady.” Jacob bowed toward both women. “It also reminds me of ancient times, when the Fae and human worlds were not so separate, and not always at odds.”

Rhoswen looked down her straight nose at him.

“The problem with ancient times is that memory romanticizes and fabricates. In truth, most of the stories were bard's tales enhanced by drink and wishful, naive hearts. Whereas acts of human and vampire betrayal are shameful history documented among our kind.”

Jacob spread out his hands in a conciliatory motion. It brushed his fingertips over the cloak on his lady's body, and he had to resist the desire to touch the bare knee just beneath its cover, making that precious contact. “Perhaps, Your Majesty, all of us have learned to judge our respective species by the actions of a few. As my lady pointed out, this appears to be the nature not only of humans and vampires, but Fae as well. I offer the humble opinion that it's a weakness we all should overcome. If the Fae queen is the first to overcome it, that would underscore her superior wisdom, would it not?” Keldwyn cleared his throat. Cayden shifted, and Jacob made a concerted effort not to look toward him, going on faith that he wasn't about to be skewered again. Rhoswen glanced at Lyssa. “I'm beginning to understand why you keep him around.”

“He has his uses,” Lyssa responded.

“I can see that.” In a graceful move, the queen was back on her feet and moving from her throne. With a wave of her hand, the magical barrier dissipated, like the sudden absence of crackling static from a highly charged electric fence. Cayden made a brief note of protest in his throat, but Rhoswen flicked her gaze over him and he fel silent. Jacob picked up another clue from it, however. Cayden was concerned that Rhoswen was underestimating Lyssa's abilities, and stil felt that way. Since he'd just seen Lyssa's abilities first hand, and of course he would know his queen's, that meant that the two were more closely matched than Rhoswen was revealing.

Well done, Sir Vagabond. As you said, the key to the queen is the consort. Or in this case, the captain. Mind that lesson yourself, with your poker face.

It was a wry joke, because she knew his expressions were far too transparent. As the queen strode up to him, Lyssa shifted in her direction, but Rhoswen merely laid her palm on the side of his face. Putting pressure on it, she made him avert his head so she could study his profile. It all owed him to rest his gaze on his lady, but Lyssa's attention was on Rhoswen, a female bird of prey eyeing an interloper to her nest.

Rhoswen's fingers were as cold as they appeared, and now that he saw them up close, he realized she had long black nails that didn't appear to be painted. Impressions of frost on them looked like tiny snowflakes. As she drew him to his feet, the frost became snow in truth, dusting his skin, creating gooseflesh. She was even more stunningly beautiful at this proximity, her silken hair inviting touch as it swung forward, brushing the knuckles of the hands he had at his sides. If he glanced down, he would be gazing ful on that marvelous expanse of breasts, possibly getting a view of the nipples the corset barely contained. Out of a healthy sense of self-preservation, he kept his gaze on his lady.

If you truly cared about your well-being, you would hide such thoughts from your Mistress, despite your promise not to conceal things from me.

Perhaps I care more about honoring your claim on my mind than my own well-being. It's not my fault she has an incredible rack.

He'd been deliberately crude to defuse some of the tension he felt from his lady, and he succeeded, winning a flash of amusement from her. Then Rhoswen began to speak.

“There is another tradition, one that human and Fae courts shared in those ancient medieval times. It is one the Unseelie Court has retained.” Rhoswen put her hand on Jacob's pectoral, those wicked nails whispering over the cotton of his T-shirt. “You are my subject, Lyssa. If I desire to lie with your consort, I have that right. I will take him to my bed tonight, and determine what it is about him that holds your loyalty so deeply.”

“Vampires are not your equals, no more than beasts to you, but they're all right to fuck.” Lyssa's response was as dry as brittle bones.

Rhoswen laughed, though her nails bit into Jacob's skin. “Nice attempt. You're very convincing.

But I'm not stupid.”

“You are if you go down this road.”

Rhoswen pivoted to face her. Ice crystals formed on Jacob's skin, even as Cayden's sword pressed into his lower back again, warning him against trying anything while Rhoswen's back was turned to him.

Rhoswen moved toe-to-toe with Lyssa. She was a few inches tal er than his lady, making her lift her chin to hold the queen's gaze, though that didn't seem to discomfit her as Rhoswen might have hoped.

However the Fae queen's voice was treacherously reasonable. “Is your line in the sand so important to you that you'd risk him? Cayden has wooden knives as well , and many guards at his disposal. Though I admit I have even more difficulty understanding this territorial reaction than I do the fact you chose a vampire for your consort, you have to pay the price for exposing your weakness for him to me. A queen of worth should know better.” Her eyes flashed as she gave back the insult. “After all, my using his body is little different than what he would experience at one of your vampire orgies.”