Taken by a Vampire
Page 8
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Though she’d been oblivious to their attentions, his friends had been intrigued by her looks, much as Niall was. Adam had been protective of her, and not only because he was her brother. A female or male Inherited Servant came to the in-house training program an untouched virgin, never even romantically kissed. She expected that had presented more difficulties for Adam than it had for her, but he’d never complained about it.
Once the private plane landed at the airport in Asheville, North Carolina, Niall guided her to a battered Range Rover and took the wheel. As they drove through town, a postcard blue-green mountain range as its backdrop, she saw it was not a large city at all, not compared to Berlin. In short order, they were off the main highway and winding up smaller roads, headed deeper into the mountains. Despite the fall season, the sun was warm, so he kept the windows down. She wrapped her hair into a twist on the back of her head to keep it out of her eyes, and inhaled the scent of trees, water, mountains and sunshine. The rolling landscape and increasing solitude were a very different experience from the past few weeks, one she didn’t mind at all.
He’d said little after the kiss incident. She didn’t sense he was closed to conversation, just waiting for her to initiate it if she desired. Her main question, how best to serve his Master, had received such a hard-to-interpret reply, she wasn’t sure where to go from there. She’d have to figure it out as she went, which might not be a bad thing, having her mind occupied by that instead of when the life would be choked from her, her heart seizing in her chest because Stephen’s had been staked.
She tried not to dwell on such a thing, because of the fear it could incite. Not of death, but of that afterlife reunion with Stephen. Her temples pounded, a warning of the headache that could come if she thought of him too much, even with the blocker. Lord Brian had explained Stephen’s invasion into her mind had caused such trauma to her body that it would protect her if she turned her thoughts toward him. She was glad to have a sanctioned excuse not to think of her Master.
“Do you like music?”
She turned her head, holding back the few shorter wisps of hair that had escaped the bun and were dancing in the breeze. “If you’d like to play some, I don’t object.”
“Not what I asked, muirnín.” His direct look reminded her of what he’d said in her room. How he’d said it. You’ll want to answer me. Before she could stop herself, she’d shifted her gaze downward, as she might when a vampire addressed her.
“I . . . I haven’t thought about it.”
A slight tap of the chin, a reminder, and she lifted her attention to him. “Better.” He smiled, but that intent look kept her attention. “You mean you don’t listen to music for your own enjoyment?”
“I listen to whatever my Master wishes to play. I’m trained to dance in a variety of styles for his pleasure. I can also sing.”
“Okay.” He pushed the player between them. “Scroll through and find something that strikes your fancy. One song.”
She picked up the device, studied the list of songs. “Are these your favorites?”
“Playlists I’ve put together, aye.”
“All right, then.” She chose the shuffle option and hit play, so that the player chose the first song. He gave her a look, but he didn’t say anything further. The song was country bluegrass, a male band that filled the vehicle with music that fit their surroundings well. With the windows down, she adjusted the volume upward. When she did that, she won a grin. It made her feel a little better, though she couldn’t explain why. Reaching across the seat, he squeezed her hand briefly, then returned to driving, humming the song while she gazed at him, mystified both by the touch and the situation.
Each road they turned up became rougher, steeper, until they were bumping along on what seemed little more than a deer path. The trees closed in on either side, such that Niall raised her window, the leafy branches passing along the glass rather than slapping her during their passage. Just when she was certain he was going to have to produce an axe to get them any farther, they emerged into a small clearing. To one side was a log cabin built into the side of the hill, a necessary anchor given that the front yard had only enough level ground for a grouping of Adirondack chairs and a picnic table before it began to slope down dramatically, drawing the gaze in that direction.
Niall backed the vehicle into a spot obviously carved out for it next to the cabin, which gave Alanna the opportunity to stare at that overwhelming view. The slope was dotted with yellow wildflowers with black centers that danced at the touch of the wind. The hill disappeared into a forested gorge, enough daylight left that the sunlight gleamed on the golds, yellows, rust reds and countless greens, an artist’s mixed palette, forming the foreground for the mountain range behind, dark green hills giving way to blue-green ones. Beyond that, layers of hazy blue rocky formations rose into the sky, wisps of white clouds draped over them like silken spider webs. It was a view that kept the mind engaged and the tongue silent.
When she realized Niall had cut the engine, she looked toward him.
“Evan calls this the Atheist Test. Says if you look at the view and don’t believe in a higher power, no other miracle will change your mind.”
Not knowing what to say to that, she simply nodded and then forced herself to evaluate her surroundings more practically. Another vehicle, a sturdy SUV that looked like it had been decommissioned from the military, was parked on the other side of the cabin. There was a well, but now that Niall had opened his door, holding it there with a braced foot, she could also hear the rush of water, possibly a stream beyond the cusp of the hill on the west side of the property. Lifting her gaze to the steep grade above the cabin, she saw several cameras on tripods. They were loosely protected by a plastic tent, the flap tied back from the picture-taking end. Niall scowled.
“Idiot,” he muttered. He exited the vehicle, his size making it rock. Before she realized his intent, he was at her door, opening it for her. She wasn’t used to that, nor how he offered a hand so she could more easily step down from the Range Rover’s greater height.
“You’re lucky it didn’t rain today,” he muttered. “That plastic wouldn’t have held against a stiff breeze. You’d have fried your arse, getting out here to rescue the equipment.”
Because she’d spent most of her life around servants, she knew when one was speaking to his Master internally, though it was the first time she’d heard one be that rude. She waited, hand still clasped in his because he’d not yet let go. She didn’t take it as an impropriety, given that his mind was obviously engaged, so she had the opportunity to observe his fingers were strong and warm, his palm rough. She wanted to run her touch over it, feel the grooved lines. She quelled the inappropriate response.
“He said it didnae smell like rain today.” Niall snorted, giving Alanna an eye roll. “Aye, ye remember Seattle?” Dropping her hand, he circled around back, retrieving her suitcase. “Come on, he’s inside.”
She eyed the size of the cabin. “Where does he protect himself from the sun?”
“The back bedroom is inside the hill itself, but during daylight, that’s only adequate for early morning or just after sunset. The root cellar is below the house and accessible through the kitchen. It’s been modernized enough that there’s indoor plumbing, and electricity comes from a generator, but for the most part it’s a pioneer experience. The place is a couple hundred years old.”
“This is your . . . home?”
“A step down for you, princess?”
His narrowed look flustered her. “No. I didn’t mean it like that at all. I apologize. I’m accustomed to vampires who require more of their accommodations.”
“Aye, he’s not one of those. That’s all he requires.” Niall nodded toward the view. “As long as he can see the next great wonder, he could sleep in a hole in the ground. As for me, I just need a guid meal, so he keeps me fed. We all have our priorities.”
She followed him to the door, her cheeks pink at the idea he’d thought she was complaining. She didn’t know how to rectify such an unprecedented assumption.
“We’ve been here a couple o’ weeks,” he continued. “No telling when Evan’ll move on, but that should make it bloody hard for Stephen to sneak up on us. If he resorts to spy work, he won’t get very far. Evan willnae use cell phones, and these auld trucks don’t have GPS chips.”
“But I thought they want . . . him to find me.” She stumbled over the pronoun. After referring to him as “my lord” for so long, she had trouble calling him merely Stephen. She also couldn’t call him Master. Though technically he still was, she couldn’t make herself do it, no matter how much it underscored her failure as a servant. “My purpose is to be bait.”
Niall stopped, such that she almost bumped into him. When he turned, that stern set of his lips was back, giving her the impression she’d offended him somehow.
“I’m sorry,” she said, though she questioned why she was apologizing to a servant.
“So you should be, muirnín. Ye have value beyond bait, and you should remember that. Making it more difficult for Stephen to find you provides more opportunities to flush him out. A man on a long treasure hunt makes more mistakes than one on a short one.”
The logic was sound, but the first part had her confused. What value?
After feeling nothing for so long, it was odd to feel unsettled, uncertain. Serving a vampire who lived inside a mountain with a big Scot who was entirely unpredictable in his behavior was like finding herself on Mars. That quick hand squeeze in the Rover came back to her, and she had an unprecedented urge to take his hand again, as she had taken Adam’s when they first came to the InhServ program together. She’d been the one to drive them toward the goal, but at that momentous transition, Adam had made her feel protected, his hand sure and strong on hers.
When Niall gestured her forward, she squashed the moment of weakness, squaring her shoulders. She was taught to be prepared for anything. She was about to meet her new Master, and no matter how temporary that was, she would serve him as if she would do so for the rest of her life. Which, in this case, was likely true.