Vampire Instinct (Vampire Queen #7)
Page 62She rose then, went to a squat next to the girl. This time, her mind was fully attuned to Mal’s. They didn’t have to have a conscious conversation. She felt his acceptance of her course of action, because he was reading it as she moved forward, just as she read his reassurance that he was ready if something went amiss.
Going to a crouch next to Nerida, she held out the beaded strip. The beads were a blue background, with brown and yellow cat’s eyes worked along it in a pattern, and the tanned leather had been cut into a fringe strip at the end. She’d originally imagined him wearing such a thing in his hair with feathers, but of course, she’d made it so he could affix it to the knife holster he wore at his belt if he preferred, or even tie it on as a bracelet, weaving together the fringe so it didn’t become a deadly distraction for the cats. Kohana had pointed out that hazard, noting if one of the leopards took a playful swipe at it, they could lay open his arm like a fish’s gullet.
“I know Lord Ruskin and his vampires did awful things to you,” Elisa said, watching the attention in that solemn brown eye. “They played games, tricked you by being nice and then, when you came close, they hurt you. Which was even more unkind, because they could hurt you whenever they wished, right? They didn’t have to fool you to do it. The only reason they did that was because they were horrible, soulless monsters who should be roasting in hell now, if there is a hell for such vileness. But sometimes rather than hell, I think it’s better to just imagine them as dust, nothingness, no soul to roast. They just don’t exist anymore.” She spread out her fingers, as if shaking dust away from them, and the girl’s eyes followed the motion.
Miah had intended to follow her to Nerida’s side, but Mal had kept her in place with a look and a gesture, so Elisa glanced her way now, with a kind nod.
“The very fact you and Miah wanted to dress my hair says you’re learning. Learning to hope, learning that this place is different. We’re different. I’ve never tricked you, have I? I’ve never told you something that wasn’t true. You’re vampires and you can pick up my emotions as well as Mr. Malachi or any of his wild creatures. So now I want you to think, because you are a clever, clever girl. Mr. Malachi has not harmed any of you, or threatened to harm you, except when he thought you were going to harm me or someone on his staff, right? He’s protecting them; that’s all.
“So come sit up,” she said in a firm, no-nonsense Mrs. Rupert voice. “Let’s do your hair and Miah’s, now that she’s brushed mine so pretty. We’d do Mr. Malachi’s for him, but men don’t like that kind of fussing.”
She tossed a smile in Mal’s direction. His eyes glinted at her in that way that made her knees feel a little weak. “We’ll talk Kohana into it, because he has really long hair. I can try out my gift in his hair and then make Mr. Malachi another he doesn’t know about. After all, Kohana needs a Christmas gift, too.”
She’d placed a hand on Nerida’s arm as she spoke, curling her hand around the thin limb. It was the first time she’d ever tried touching the girl, and she did it calmly, rewarded when Nerida didn’t recoil. She did feel a frisson of warning from Mal, but it was simply a caution, not a prohibition, so she exerted gentle force, rubbing her until the girl sat up, glancing under those long lashes toward Mal and then toward that beaded strip. Reaching out with tiny fingers, she took it from Elisa’s fingers with precise caution.
“Just wait until we get closer to Christmas.” Elisa kept the exultance from her voice with effort. “We’ll make popcorn strings for the cats in the habitats. We’ll use very thin strips of leather or even intestines for that”—she made a face—“because of course we can’t use actual string, but I think it will still be fun . . .”
Elisa found Miah at her elbow now, reaching forward to touch the decoration. A clanking of pots from the kitchen area drew her gaze to Kohana in the open pass-through. He’d arrived from the chicken coop with his eggs and was preparing to cook. Nerida met Miah’s gaze. Elisa drew in a surprised breath as the two scampered gracefully toward the kitchen, the beaded strips and brush in tow.
Elisa saw Kohana indeed was not perturbed, though he sent her a pained look as Nerida clambered onto the counter and combed through his hair with her fingers, while Miah pushed over a chair to get him to sit, since neither girl could come close to reaching his great height. Miah fingered the eggs, lifting one to her nose to smell, and Kohana chided her in his gruff way to put those down, because those were for the hands, and maybe he’d show her all the ways they cooked them up.
Long fingers circled Elisa’s wrist. She looked away from the scene to have Mal tug her into a tumble on his lap, a sudden movement that briefly caught the girls’ attention; then they went back to Kohana. “It was a nice Christmas gift,” Mal told her. “Thank you.”
“I’ll make you another. Unless you’d prefer Kohana have it because it’s a girlish fancy you don’t think you can wear in front of the others. But he told me Lakota warriors sometimes wore such things.”
“Warriors?”
She nodded. “You’re a warrior. You fight for the cats, even these fledglings. You fight to be who you are.”
“And what’s that?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly, dropping her head back to meet his gaze, then sliding her attention to his throat, because sometimes she was overwhelmed by the intensity in his eyes. She wondered if it was that problem as much as vampire etiquette that often kept servants from meeting a vampire’s gaze. “But I think you’re figuring it out yourself.”
After nearly seven days of unrelenting lust, she was surprised she didn’t feel his normal reaction when she was firmly seated on his groin. It discomfited her somewhat until those sensual lips curved again. “Hussy,” he murmured. “Think I’m tired of you already?”
Flustered, she tried to push herself off his lap, but found herself held fast as he made an incoherent noise, a command to be still. Remember, we keep sexual vibes low around the fledglings. They’ve had too many bad memories associated with that, for one thing. For another, they have an abundance of those hormones. Because of their abnormal ages and physical makeup, it manifests itself in violent and destructive ways when roused.
I don’t expect you to know everything, Elisa. That’s my job. While her snort was automatic, it made his eyes spark with affection at her impertinence. I’ll be sure and prove that to you later; never fear.
Fortunately, the radio crackled then, pulling his attention away, since Elisa was concerned she might start emanating some of those inappropriate vibes in response to that heavy-lidded look he gave her.
While no message came through on the radio, Mal’s attention turned inward in that way he did when he was listening to a message from one of the staff. He helped her to her feet. “I need to take the girls back to the enclosure.”
“Is there a problem?”
“Nothing to worry about.” The girls had attended him instantly upon rising, and he gestured to them. “C’mon, you two. I have to go back to work. I’ll bring you back another day; never fear. You did very well.”
It was short, dry praise, but coming from him, it was significant. Nerida and Miah immediately obeyed him and, while Elisa saw wariness, she didn’t see blatant fear as the two girls clasped hands and walked to the doorway. Mal pointed them toward the Jeep.
“Why don’t I go with you? I can stay at the enclosure with them while you go take care of whatever the problem is.”
“Not this time.” He nodded toward Kohana, an unspoken message. Following him out as far as the porch, she noted he didn’t have the girls get in the cage in which they’d been brought. He instead gestured them into the Jeep seats. The amazement and then delight on their faces was a wonder to see, something that distracted her until the Jeep pulled out. Nerida looked back at her, raised a small hand, and Elisa waved back, feeling her heart strings tie in the usual knots of hope and worry. For once, though, hope for the girls’ future outweighed the worry.
After the Jeep was out of sight, she turned on her heel and moved to the kitchen. They’d worked the beaded strip around a braided strand of Kohana’s hair, and it actually looked quite handsome there, though the man gave her a much abused look about it.
He’d had a retort for the first comment, but instead he pressed his lips together.
“It’s about the fledglings, isn’t it?” She slid around the counter. “If he didn’t tell you not to tell me, then you’re not defying any rules.”
“With Mal, there’s no difference between an implied command and an actual one, and you know that.” However, he sighed, gave her a shrewd look. “He’s pretty agitated tonight. Chayton thought Mal might want to come down and check on him.”
Jeremiah had been withdrawn and temperamental since Leonidas. The worry came back, but she tamped down the overwhelming urge to follow Mal. She had to trust him. “All right. I’ll talk to him about it when he returns. Do you need help gathering more eggs?”
“No, but I could use some meat from the smokehouse. Bring me a few of those sides of ham.” Giving her a speculative look, he added, “It’s handy, having you all strong and mighty these days.”
“Lets you be more lazy, more like.” Though of course just the opposite was true. The staff had a variety of unspoken strategies to ensure the man sat down on occasion without sacrificing his pride. If he overdid things, his stump could get to hurting, as well as his back and other leg. A second-mark’s healing ability couldn’t solve everything. Chumani had made it clear things had changed between them yesterday with her newest strategy—sitting down on his lap before he could get up to start clearing the table. She’d hooked an arm around his neck while continuing to chat with Tokala, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And of course, seeing them together, it was. There’d been a lot of grins exchanged, and Kohana’s face had gotten red for a moment, but then it was as if it had always been that way.