Bane looked past Myla’s shoulder to assess Vera, his body pressed tightly against Myla’s back. “How do you know she’s the right strigoi? She doesn’t seem that important to me.”
Myla stared at Vera's mouth, knowing that she could be compelled if she looked into her eyes. “She was his mistress, so he must feel something for her. There’s the human, but he’d never be careless enough to attach himself to someone so feeble. No, the strigoi is the right one.”
Vera only glared at her.
Bane’s hand twisted Myla’s body so she was facing him and away from Vera’s dark gaze, and he smiled brightly. "Then we’ll begin to poison her, as discussed.”
She shifted, uncertain, but he lowered his hand, sliding a finger down the front of her dress.
He couldn’t help himself; violence always made him hard.
“But first, let me show you a thing or two about how I work.” He pulled her to him so that she could feel his hardness. “You’re too pretty to let the strigoi ruin a little fun.”
Her breath escaped her as his hand yanked off buttons and slid down her dress, then clasped her breast. She closed her eyes as she took in the sensations running through her body as he played with her nipples.
“You think—” She gasped as his other hand yanked her skirt to the side. “You think I’m pretty?”
“Of course.” He nibbled on her ear as he moved to rip down the front of her dress. “We’ll get our revenge on the strigoi, but who says we can’t amuse ourselves in the process?”
“What about Tina? I thought she was your mate.” Her voice came out deep and breathy.
Bane shrugged. “I’ve only known her for a few weeks. We weren’t together long. Besides, I warned her that the strigoi was dangerous. She took her chances and paid the price.”
He ripped the last of her dress open, tossing it to the side, and Myla leaned into him.
“That’s it.” He steered Myla towards the mattress on the floor. “Let me teach you a thing or two, and then we’ll have some fun with the strigoi.”
1
Adelade
The dirt was soft and wet, and there was a strange, tingling sensation on my fingers as I dug, hunched down in the garden with Detrand by my side.
I wasn’t exactly sure what kind of magic the strigoi held, but it was most certainly prevalent in the garden where there was always a temperate weather, and the plants grew no matter the season outside the manor.
Detrand was a presence over me, hovering as always, watching me as I pulled the carrots from their roots and put them in the basket at my side.
My feelings were a mixture of both his and my emotions which I was still struggling to separate, but right now they were a contented thrill. Detrand was still training me and so I was slowly but surely becoming a better fighter. Lula, Elena, and I were becoming closer, and I had a place that was slowly growing into a home for me.
And then there was Detrand. I’d never have imagined my life could ever become like this, with passion and vitality that he brought into my world. Not only for him, but for life in general.
I was genuinely happy, and I think Detrand was, as well.
"Tell me," I said, tilting my head as I made my way down the row of vegetables, "what was your life like before you were turned?”
I didn't need to look up at Detrand to know the churning emotions inside him.
"As you know, I was married to Elena. We had two beautiful and innocent children.”
I nodded my head, my chest tightening with jealousy every time I thought of it. I tried not to, as Elena was very kind to me, and Detrand showed no interest in her. But still, they had a bond that I could never have with him: a time of before, with children, something I definitely could never have with him. The strigoi couldn’t produce children.
"Adelade." Detrand's low voice a rumble that made a shiver crawl down my spine, and he bent to squat next to me.
I didn't look at him, even though I knew he could feel my emotions, I didn’t want to reveal it on my face.
But he gently touched my chin, tilting it upwards, forcing me to look at him. "Just as your life with your parents was happy before you met me, so was my life with Elena. It was a good time in my life but the day that I became a strigoi, all that changed. Even before I met you, Elena and I weren't together. In fact, she'd been with Agosto for almost all our time as a strigoi."
"Was that strange?" I felt his response before he answered it, and put my hand on his knee to comfort him, stroking it with my thumb.
"Yes," he said, his voice strangled. "It was very strange. We all loved each other, but in different ways."
“And were you jealous of them?"
He glanced away. "At first, but then I got used to it. Over time, it wasn't the feeling of wishing things could be the same again between Elena and me, as it had in the past, but more that I was alone. Agosto was a good friend and he kept me company, but the strigoi have a great sexual appetite, and I was always on the hunt, searching to sate it." He finally looked back at me now. “I hope you never know that emotion, Adelade. Always longing, always searching for someone who could continually sate it, but never finding that special person."
His gaze burned into me, and my chest burned with the warmth of it. I could feel his buzzing contentment now, and knew that he hadn’t fucked anyone since we’d come to know each other, even though technically we hadn’t gone all the way yet.
My voice was husky when I responded. "Is that why you left England?"
He nodded. "Yes, after so long, and never feeling that I would ever grow to have what your parents had, not with the connection between Agosto and Elena and I, I left."
"I'm glad you returned."
He didn't answer me, but I didn't need to hear his words to know that he was glad as well. In fact, he was so happy to have met me, that it made my bones ache with the strength of his emotions. It was a heady, powerful feeling to know that the master of the manor, the most powerful strigoi in the city, was mesmerized by the very sight of me, fascinated and enchanted with my very presence.
It made me feel powerful in a way I’d never felt before, and I was continually drunk off it.
I leaned in to him, my hands pressing into his knees to steady myself as I kissed him.
He made a satisfied moan, soft but so full of passion that he clasped my jaw, tugging me into his chest as he deepened the kiss.
The stark, swirling desire inside me made me breathless, turning my insides out, and I clutched his shirt, needing to keep myself balanced or I would tip over with the powerful sensations coursing through me.
His mouth leisurely took mine, his thumb brushing over my jaw like he treasured my very skin.
Our kisses grew deeper, stronger, as we were unable to pull away from each other, and he sat down, pulling me to straddle his lap as the intensity between us grew. His hands roamed my face, caressing the skin of my cheeks, then my eyes, my nose, then slid down my neck. His thumb pressed there, clasping it softly as if he could hold my very breath in his hand.
My own arms slid around him, clutching him tighter to me, my mouth needing to devour his, trapping his arm between our two bodies pressed tightly together.