“Will you allow me to help her until we stand before the Council?”
Antaeus tilted his head in consideration. “If you’ll agree not to attempt to escape, I’ll allow it. You know I won’t kill her before she’s been tried. But you...I do not have to be so kind to you.”
He expected nothing less from the executioner. Bast replied, “Leave her alone, and I’ll go before the Council with you.”
This conversation eased his fear somewhat. If Antaeus forced Alice to undergo transition without assistance, or if he’d decided on helping her sexual needs himself, Bast didn’t think he’d have the strength to stop himself from attacking him outright. Alice was his mate in every way. Before, he thought he’d be willing to do just about anything for her. Now, he’d walk through flames knowing that death waited him on the other side, without so much as blinking.
“You realize that no matter what the Council decrees for you, it won’t end well for her?” Antaeus asked with a low voice.
Bast couldn’t bring himself to verbally respond. He nodded.
When the Council was faced with the evidence of a newly created vampire, one made without their sanction, she would be sentenced to death. Antaeus, or some other executioner, would be ordered to extinguish her life painlessly, but immediately after a decision had been made and she’d fully transitioned.
For that reason, Antaeus should have also made him promise not to attempt a break-out for Alice. Because he would get her away from this mess. That was a promise.
As if beckoned, she came out of the bathroom, a cloud of heat and steam surrounding her. The bite mark on her neck glowed brighter than the rest of her pink skin, and from the sight alone Bast could have taken her again if not for their audience. As it was, she moved timidly, not sparing a glance in Antaeus’s direction. Her attention went to the floor of the room, where her discarded clothing lay, a tale of their own. When she picked up something purple, Bast grunted out a noise. “Just the shirt. I need you to stay available to me, okay?” Her scrubbed flesh burned brighter as a blush spread across her cheeks and melted down her neck. He smiled, trying to lighten the somber atmosphere. “What? Don’t tell me that you don’t have a bit of exhibitionist in you.”
She returned a grudging smile. “You’re such a man. Sorry, but threesomes aren’t my thing.”
“That’s what you say now.”
Her eyes shot to Antaeus and back. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You’ve had a threesome before?”
“I’m almost four hundred. There’s lots of things I’ve done before.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Alice slipped the shirt on, letting it fall over the towel wrapped around her frame. “I don’t think I even want to know. And now that you have me, I don’t care how old you get to be, I doubt there will be any more threesomes in your future. Feel me?”
Antaeus chuckled. “You two are well matched.”
Pride swelled in Bast. They were, weren’t they? God, how he wanted to spend more time with her. He wanted to show her many things. Take her places she’d only dreamed. To do that, surviving meant everything. For them both. Somehow, he’d have to find a way to convince the Council that he wasn’t a threat and neither was she. He’d give them his vast fortune if necessary. While most had been inherited, a lot had been earned. And if he’d done it once, he could do it again.
Alice grimaced, bending at the waist as if pain ricocheted through her. Bast lunged for her, holding her against him as another swell of heat rushed through her. The sweet cinnamon smell bloomed in the small room, announcing another trial of transition brightening into existence.
Over her head, he caught Antaeus’s attention. With his eyes, he motioned to the bathroom, and Antaeus gave a reluctant, but curt nod. Without waiting for another prompt of approval, Bast pressed his body against hers as they shuffled together toward the private space. She was trembling by the time he closed the door.
“I promise today’s the worst of it. Promise,” he reassured as his mouth skimmed across hers.
She gritted her teeth. “Can’t be worse than what you went through, right?” Beads of sweat popped up on her brow. “I can handle it. But how do we escape—”