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  Domitia bound me to her with her blood, with chains, and with words that mindfucked a child into submission. It wasn’t until last night that I finally shook off the last vestiges of that bondage. Now, I’m bound to Zahara. But this time, I’ve cuffed myself.

  I will gladly spend the rest of my life giving Zahara pleasure, fulfilling her every need and desire. Including giving her the child she desires.

  It’s a trudge to get out of the bed. There’s likely a half hour of sunlight left outside. Inside my closet, I feel for the first garment on a hanger. I poke the correct body parts through the appropriate holes, and go in search of my woman.

  Her scent trail leads me to the back of the house. A few rays of sunlight shine in from the glass doors that lead out to the vineyard. I step my way around those shards of death until I am on one side of the window.

  Zahara sits in a cluster of vines. Her legs are folded beneath her. In her hands, she holds a diseased vine. Marechal is beside her. Scientific instruments are all around them.

  I can hear what they’re saying thanks to my supernatural hearing. But they’re speaking in the unintelligible language of science, so their words go over my head. I don’t bother to catch any of the discussion. I simply let the tone of Zahara’s voice wash over me.

  Even her voice is like honey as it enters my ears—which makes sense, since her kisses are like nectar. Between her thighs it tastes like the sweetest of wines. Her blood would shame the ambrosia of the gods.

  The need to have her in my arms, her thighs wrapped around my neck, around my waist, is so powerful that I take a step towards the door. I hiss as the light shoves me back into the shadows.

  “Just a few more minutes, and then we can go to them.”

  I don’t turn at the sound of Gaius’s voice. I sense him behind me, and am sure his gaze is on Marechal.

  “Crazy what love does,” Gaius continues. “It fills you with such want that it makes you forget your weaknesses.”

  “Have you learned any more about how Dom fathered a child?”

  Gaius’s pause lets me know that he has.

  “Tell me,” I demand.

  “I don’t know the answer. But I know where we can find Dom.”

  “Let’s go,” I say, eager to learn how to give Zahara the one thing I never thought I could.

  “In a minute.”

  Gaius reaches for the door and pulls it open. The sun has set, thus lifting the barrier between the two of us and the women we treasure. Gaius is on Marechal in less than a breath. Both she and Zahara yelp at his sudden appearance.

  Marechal giggles as Gaius brings her up into his arms for a deep and bruising kiss. Zahara blinks at the two of them. Then, as though only just sensing my presence, she turns to me.

  I’m not certain what to do. Should I race to her? Bring her into my arms, and kiss her? That’s what I want to do. But I’m uncertain if I should.

  Hadrian made Cari a vampire and bound her to him in our ways. Gaius plans to do the same with Marechal, in time. I know that Zahara is mine, but I don’t know how panther shifters mate. Wolves bite. I’ve already bitten her. That should stake my claim.

  The thoughts flee my mind as a bundle of flesh is flung into my arms. Zahara removes all my doubts as she wraps her legs and arms around me and presses her mouth against mine.

  “You’re awake,” she says against my lips.

  “I would never sleep if I could touch you all day.” I lick at her bottom lip, then graze the top one with my fang, marveling that I have the right to do so.

  ”Let’s go back to your room so you can touch me all night.”

  She is beautiful in the blood-red of the moonlight. That’s when I note the color of the night. It’s the night of the lunar eclipse. The moon is in the shadow of the sun. Some of the sun’s light passes through the satellite, but the dilution isn’t enough to burn a vampire.

  “There’s something I must do first,” I tell her.

  Zahara’s grin turns down into a frown. “Are we back to you turning down sex again?”

  I press a kiss to her frown. “I won’t be long.”

  “You forget that you’re my captive,” she says as she tightens her arms and legs around me. “You’re supposed to do as you’re told.”

  I grip her ass in my hands. My cock is ready to follow her command. To let her know that her request was heard, I press her core up against the evidence. Her gaze immediately goes hooded.

  “I promise I won’t be long,” I repeat. “Then I’ll let you boss me around.”

  ”You’ll let—”

  I capture her lips in another kiss. When she gasps, I invade her mouth. My tongue tangles with hers as though in a duel. If we had more time, I’d let her win. I’d let her have a taste of the control she thinks she wants. But I need to make this quick, and get the answers I need to give her what she truly wants: a child.

  So, I suck at her tongue until she mewls. When she gives, I score the tip of her tongue with a fang. I pull at the droplet of her blood that pools there. It’s only an appetizer. I’ll be back for the main course as soon as possible.

  When I set Zahara down, she wobbles. She clings to me, and I can see stars in her dazed eyes. I hold her until she regains her balance.

  “Fine,” she says clearing her throat. “You can go. But don’t be long.”

  “As you command,” I say, stealing another taste of her before I head off with Gaius.

  I plan to follow that last order. I plan to learn how to give her the child she wants. Then she’ll have everything she asked for. And it will be me who gave it to her, and not some fool prophecy.

  Chapter 22

  Virius

  I press my fingers to my lips. The pressure of my fingertip causes a dam at the center of my bottom lip. On either side the blood backs up, waiting impatiently to rush into the divot.

  Slipping my tongue beneath my finger, I lick at the skin there. I can still taste her on my lips. She’s at the corners of my mouth as well. She is under my tongue. Her honey fills my throat.

  Zahara is all around me. She is inside me. She is my entire world now. And I will give her everything she has ever dreamed of.

  “We’re here.”

  Gaius puts the car in park outside a club in downtown Tucson. The place doesn’t share the same upscale class that clings to the velvet ropes of Club Toxic. But its dark decor still beckons those who seek the nightlife.

  Inside, the layout is that of an actual club and not a BDSM cover. A bar sits in one corner. Tables and chairs dot the walls. The focal point of the room is the stage where musical instruments lie in wait for their masters.

  A woman is on the stage. She runs her hands over each instrument. She doesn’t strum chords or strike keys, but there is a hum coming from the stage, as though the music is eager to get out of her.

  “Mama, listen.”

  Clanging and thumps ring out from the stage as a child bangs and thrashes the drum set. Surprisingly, the raucous is rhythmic and systematic. The child’s playing sounds like what could be called music.

  “You got it, baby. Rock on, Luci.” The woman bobs her head in time to the music. Maternal pride is stretched wide on her face as she smiles at the kid.

  “We’re closed,” says a male voice that carries as much bass as the drum set. “Show starts at ten.”

  “We’re not here for the show,” says Gaius, his trademark smile in place. “My brother and I are here to talk to you.”

  This must be Dom, I think, though I frown as I look at the man. He doesn’t smell like a vampire. Not exactly. He doesn’t entirely smell human, though I can scent the blood rushing through him. I hear it pumping through his heart.

  The harsh breath of air he pushes through his teeth seems like a loss of more than his temper. Dom inhales, as though he needs the breath to make words come out of his frowning mouth. “Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”

  “What are you?” I say.

  Dom turns his gaze on me. He might not be a f
ull vampire anymore, but he is still a dangerous male. “I’m the man who’s about to throw you out of here on your ass if you don’t get your fangs away from my family.”

  I glance back at the stage. The beating of the drums has gone silent. The woman stands in front of the child. Her hands are balled into fists as though she will tear through us if we take a step towards them.

  “He’s yours?” I say, looking at the kid holding the drumsticks. “How did you do that?”

  “If you’re looking for the Sex Ed class,” says the child’s mother, “go across town to the middle school.”

  “Mama, what’s sex ed?” says the kid.

  Both parents wince at the inquiry.

  “Kate, take him to the back, will you?” says Dom.

  Kate wrinkles her features behind Dom’s back. She digs in her heels as though she’s reluctant to leave him alone with two vampires who could easily tear her and her child apart for a light meal.

  “Now.” Dom doesn’t raise his voice. He also doesn’t put any extra bass in the command. But it is unmistakably a command.

  Instead of bristling at the order, a slight shiver shimmies across Kate’s shoulders. It’s the universal language of a submissive lowering her head to her Dominant’s will.

  “Come on, Luci. Daddy’s got company to deal with.”

  Kate and Luci walk off the stage and head to the back. My gaze trails them. My heart pounds hard in my chest as I watch them go. That could be Zahara in a few years. I just need to find out how Dom did it.

  “I need a child,” I say.

  Dom growls, sounding more like a lion than a man who is no longer a vampire.

  “Not your child. I need a spawn of my own loins.”

  I point to my crotch area. Dom does not look down. He doesn’t take his eyes off me. His body remains between me and Gaius, and the path his family took.

  The protective instinct fascinates me. I never knew my father. Every man I came in contact with wanted to either use his fists or his cock to hurt me—every man other than Gaius and Hadrian.

  Dom looks like he’d use his fist to rip my cock off and shove it down my throat if I dared take a step towards his mate or his child. A fire starts in my gut that tells me that I would do the same if anyone dared harm Zahara and her child.

  No, our child.

  I have never truly given any thought to having a child. Not even when I was human. I would never want to produce a living being who was born into bondage like I was.

  Zahara thinks our child will be born with a job to do: to break a curse. But that would only be a belief. I’ve already given my land, my money, and my heart to Zahara. Our child would be born free to do whatever they wanted.

  Born free. Made with love. That is something I’d like to create.

  “How?” I ask Dom.

  His gaze rakes over me. His stance doesn’t relax, but his lips start moving. “It’s a bloody business.”

  I shrug. My life has been nothing but blood and pain.

  “I was drained by a vampire called Roxanna,” Dom goes on. “She wanted to make me her minion, to do her bidding without a thought. She almost did.”

  “She must have known our sire, Domitia,” says Gaius. “We were nothing but her pets when she wanted to play. Her executioners when she was hungry and bored. We broke free of her, but not without loss.”

  “Same here,” says Dom.

  “But you are no longer a vampire,” I say. “You smell mortal.”

  “I am,” says Dom. “Mostly.”

  “How?” I ask.

  “Kate,” he says simply. “I was near death after Roxanna drained me. Kate told me to connect with the spiritual sun. She insisted that my true essence would remain, that it was stronger than Roxanna’s will. Kate was right. When I came out of it, my mortality was restored. So, I age.”

  Dom lifts his hand to indicate the gray streaks in his hair.

  “What mortality I gained gave me just enough to create a new life and live out my days alongside my love.”

  “Is that all?” I ask.

  I had expected a gauntlet filled with quests and challenges, and lots of blood and pain. But it appears that the way to regain my mortality is the same way I lost it: be drained of blood. But instead of being fed the blood of a vampire, I need to cling to a soul I’m not sure I have. That will be the tricky part.

  “Is that all!” Gaius turns to me, his face contorted in anger and disbelief. “That’s enough. It sounds like you could die.”

  If that’s the cost to give Zahara what she wants, I will pay it. If I can make a new life that is born free, that is the legacy I want to leave to this world. It would make all the misery and pain of my long life worth it.

  Chapter 23

  Zahara

  “Now that you’re rich, what’s the first thing you’re going to buy?” asks Carignan Durand.

  Cari, Marechal, and I sit in the formal dining room. A spread of gourmet food is displayed across the table. Cari sips blood from a glass chalice. Marechal slices into frog legs in a buttery sauce then washes the reptilian fare down with a glass of wine whose cost would feed a small village.

  I hold a silver spoon in my hand as I chew on Boeuf Bourguignon, which is rich people speak for beef stew. It has all the hallmarks of hilachas, a Guatemalan beef stew with tomatillo sauce. Except the tomatoes taste like spring in the fall time. The onions kick back. The spices hit my nose as if I’m pulling them straight from the ground.

  Yeah, there really is a difference between how the wealthy and the rest of us live. And it’s being proven here at the dinner table. But I still don’t feel like I’m rich. I’m still wearing a borrowed dress, no shoes, and no underwear.

  “It’s not like she needs anything,” says Marechal, sliding a small bit of meat into her mouth and then setting her fork and knife down as though she’s done.

  I’m not judging, because I’ve eaten frogs before. But it was while I was in panther form. The creatures couldn’t even be called an appetizer, they were so small. I have no idea how she’s had enough. I’m on my second bowl of bourguignon, and eyeing the pot for a third helping.

  “True,” says Cari, licking the blood from her upper lip. “She now owns this house, the land. I think Viri has a couple of cars in the garage. He’ll likely have a personal shopper deliver a full wardrobe in the morning. Hadrian did that the first night we spent together.”

  “I don’t need any of that,” I say, finally able to get a word in edgewise with the Durand sisters. For the last hour, they’ve been talking around me as though I wasn’t even there. But I probably have some fault in that. I worked for the Durands for years and was used to holding my tongue when my bosses spoke. But now I’m the boss.

  “What do you want to do?” Cari sets her glass down. “Travel?”

  I inhale as I think about it. The idea of traveling to places beyond the southern border of North America is an intriguing one. But it isn’t an immediate need. And it isn’t one I could have fulfilled any time soon.

  There is still the nagging noose of the prophecy wrapped tight around my belly. I press my hand there now. The beef is going down well, but my stomach grumbles. It wants to be full, but not with life. It wants to be full with something else entirely.

  “I want to go to school.”

  There is silence after I speak the words. I shut my mouth, wishing I could take them back. I have never said them out loud before. But now, they’re out there. I cringe as I wait for the laughter to fill the ornate dining area.

  “That’s so cool,” says Cari. “I was thinking of going back to school, too.”

  “Where have you applied?” asks Marechal. “The University of Arizona is an excellent school.”

  “I was going to get a history degree,” says Cari. “Specializing in the Dark Ages and the Renaissance, so that I can learn more about my husband’s past.”

  “We have a relationship with the University of Phoenix,” says Marechal. “We donated a garden. So, if you need a r
ecommendation…”

  I look between the two women. There is no mirth on their faces. There is no frown of disapproval. No reminder of the duty I’m destined to fulfill. There’s only acceptance.

  Oh, to be a rich white woman who thinks the world will simply bend its will to meet her needs.

  But I’m not a rich white woman.

  I’m a rich indigenous woman who now has the means to bend the world to her needs. Or had I forgotten?

  The land of my ancestors has been returned to me. The vineyard will yield fruit in a year’s time. The man who was meant to be the father of my child wants to spend the rest of his life with me.

  I kinda have it all. There’s nothing stopping me from going to college if that’s what I want. There’s nothing forcing me to have a child right now if that’s not what I want.

  I look out the window at the dark night. The moon has begun its process of moving in front of the sun. It’s already casting a warm glow, heralding the commencement of a prophecy that has already been fulfilled.

  Destiny always finds you? But I got here ahead of it. I’ve already passed the test and turned it in before the time was up. Shouldn’t that get me extra credit? Shouldn’t it at least get me out of the final exam?

  “Let me know where you decide to go,” says Cari. “Then I’ll apply there too. We can be coeds together. But it’ll have to be after I get my fangs under control.”

  Cari touches her index finger to one of her incisors. The sharp point pricks the flesh of her fingertip. A dot of blood escapes, which she promptly sucks away.

  “I’m doing really well,” she says with a grin. “I haven’t bitten you, and your blood smells absolutely divine.”

  Cari inhales, her nostrils flaring. Her eyelids close and her long lashes touch down against her high cheekbones. She lets out a moan that sounds like a purr.

  Before I can go on the defensive, Virius appears in the doorway. Cari clears her throat and throws back the last of the blood in her wine glass. But I’ve already forgotten about the baby vampire.