Claimed by Shadow

“They usually cringe at the idea of feeding from magic users, too afraid of retaliation from the mages," he said contemptuously. "I will have to remember to thank our host." Panic flooded my system with adrenaline, but there was nowhere to go. I pulled backwards, even knowing it was a wasted effort, and he smiled. "Now, let us see if you taste as good as you smell.”

A warm hand descended on my shoulder, and his smile faded. "This one is taken, Dmitri.”

I didn't need to turn around to know who had spoken. The rich tones were unmistakable, as was the pleasure that danced down my arm, slicing through the pain, reducing it to a low throb. A flash of anger passed over Dmitri's face. "Then you should have kept her with you, Basarab. You know the rules.”

A claret-colored cloak fell around me, so deeply red that it was almost black. "Perhaps you did not hear me," Mircea said pleasantly. "So close to that appalling orchestra, it is not surprising.”

"I don't smell her on you," Dmitri said with open suspicion.

"Our host asked to see me shortly after I arrived. I did not think he would appreciate my bringing an extra pair of ears." The joviality had fallen from Mircea's voice.

Dmitri didn't seem to hear the warning. His eyes had fixed on the rapid pulse in my neck and he sneered, showing elongated canines. "She will not live to speak of anything she overhears." His grip tightened, his fingers pressing into my flesh hard enough to bruise. The split in my arm widened, spilling a rush of blood over my skin.

"That is for me to decide." Mircea's voice was soft but deadly cold. His arm encircled my waist, drawing me back against his body. His other hand caught Dmitri's wrist. White-faced, the vamp swallowed, his hand spasming in Mircea's grip. Power sparked between them, washing the air around us in a burning mist that felt like it would eat into my skin if I stayed there long enough.

I stood in the curve of Mircea's arm, all my strength needed just to keep my knees from buckling. Mircea's power spiked, setting a warm rush of energy dancing along my body. But Dmitri didn't seem to find the sensation so pleasant. He flinched noticeably, but stubbornly hung on, his grip so tight that my hand went numb. The two vampires stared at each other for a long minute, then Dmitri abruptly stepped back, gripping his arm and panting, eyes murderous.

Mircea took hold of my wounded arm, pulling it straight, baring my blood-streaked skin. He dipped his head, his eyes fixed on the other vamp as his tongue flicked out, sliding along my arm in determined, challenging strokes. I watched him lick the blood from me in a daze, unable to look away from the sight of that proud head bowed over my wrist, mesmerized by the warm wetness of the tongue smoothing over me. Mircea raised his head after a moment and I stared at my arm in disbelief. Where there should have been wounds, there was only pale, unblemished skin.

Mircea's eyes never left Dmitri. "If you wish to contest this further, I am at your service.”

Dmitri's mouth worked for a moment, but his eyes slid away. "I would not affront our host by violating his hospitality," he said stiffly. He stepped back, anger in every line of his body. "But your abuse of the rules will be remembered, Mircea!”

As soon as he stalked off, the red haze around us dissipated like fog in sunlight. The adrenaline that had kept me on my feet abruptly left, leaving me cold and shaking, and if it hadn't been for Mircea's arm, I'd have hit the floor again. Some nearby guests, who had been watching with obvious anticipation, turned away in disappointment.

Mircea slowly pulled me backwards, into the shadows lining the wall. Nearby, a couple of vamps, a statuesque brunette and a blond, were feeding on a young woman. The female vamp was seated in a chair along the wall, the girl's body draped across her lap as she drank from her jugular. The young woman's head had fallen back, loose tendrils of blond hair tumbling around her shoulders, contrasting with the deep rose of the brunette's gown. The male vamp knelt in front of them, his long, sapphire robe spilling around him like a waterfall. Predictably, he went for another target.

He pulled the plum-colored, silky tunic the girl wore loose from the jeweled clasps at her shoulders, letting it slide through his hands slowly. The shimmering folds skimmed down her body to puddle around her hips. She moaned softly, whether in distress or encouragement, I couldn't tell. He stroked her sides and stomach soothingly for a moment, then moved a fingertip to trace the plump blue veins on her breast. Her hand crept up until it lay on his shoulder, a timid gesture of embrace.

He cradled one pale globe tenderly, his thumb brushing across the nipple in a light caress. The girl trembled visibly at his touch, but she leaned into it as his head followed his hand. She jerked violently a moment later as sharp fangs bit deep into her white flesh.

The female vamp's mouth drew the girl backwards, arching her body in a perfect bow, then the male vamp pulled her back toward him with hands and lips and teeth. Each movement flowed smoothly into the next, building a hypnotic rhythm. Her young body was soon shuddering helplessly under the dual suction. Her breath came in short gasps as she was rocked between sensations until she was begging incoherently for more.

I swallowed. The European vamps obviously didn't follow the Senate's approved method of drawing blood molecules through the skin or air. Maybe it was the era, or maybe they just played by different rules. Tony's vamps had fed publicly enough times that I thought I'd grown blasé about it, but theirs had been a far more basic act, without the sensual overtones. Given the choice, I thought I preferred their crude brutality. I'd rather know death was coming, see it as the enemy it was, than welcome it like a lover.

The male vamp had slipped a hand under the spill of plum fabric, and within seconds the girl was crying out in pleasure. But he wasn't looking at her; his eyes were locked on the brunette's, their shared gaze hot enough to burn. Feeding was an intimate act for vampires, and they never shared a body lightly. The girl appeared oblivious, or maybe she was just past caring. Her hips thrust up, accompanied by a groan loud enough to win a few amused looks from bystanders.

Shocked slightly out of my daze, I looked away. I wondered whether the girl realized that she was merely a conduit for other people's passion. I wondered whether she'd go to her death smiling, or if draining the refreshments dry was considered bad taste. Most of all, I wondered whether that was how Mircea saw me. Just a conduit-in my case, to power.

Warm lips found my neck. "The only humans here tonight are entertainment and food," he murmured, a husky whisper in the dark. "Which are you?”

His breath feathering over my nape and shoulders was enough to speed my pulse, to make my body tighten. He breathed deeply of my scent and I trembled, caught between fear and desire. The geis didn't care that this wasn't the Mircea I knew, that this was a master vampire who had no reason to protect me. It didn't understand that he was interested only in satisfying his curiosity over what had occurred at the theatre. It didn't care that he might be hungry.

"I'm here to warn you. You're in danger." It sounded lame even to my ears, but there was so much I couldn't tell him that it was almost the only thing left.

"Yes, I know. Dmitri is watching. And he does not release prey easily. We will have to be convincing, will we not?”

I saw the flash of heat in his eyes a second before a hand slid behind my head and a hot mouth descended onto mine. I'd expected passion, but not the rush of overwhelming relief that filled me and spilled over into a strange and quiet joy. It felt like I'd been holding my breath for too long and was finally allowed to breathe. My hands curled reflexively where they lay against his chest, and for a long moment I was motionless, letting myself be kissed. Then my hand moved off his shoulder and down the side of his torso to the warm, sleek swell of Mircea's hip. It wasn't meant to be a caress, but somehow it turned into one. A broad palm circled my waist, a warm tongue slipped between my lips, and the geis really woke up.