“He didn’t say anything, Lucien. Not anything,” Leah defended hurriedly and he opened his eyes to glare at her. “He just said he was immortal but he wasn’t a vampire. He didn’t tell me what he was. He didn’t tell me what other immortals there were. He said if he said anything it would mean his death. Earlier I was just guessing.”
“I’ll wager, my pet, he didn’t tell you that if anyone found out you knew then you’d face certain death.”
She pulled in a sharp breath.
“Yes,” Lucien clipped. “So no one is in on this secret. No one. I’ll have a word with Edwina and I’ll have several with Avery.”
Her hand came to his neck, fingers curling there and he could feel the slight tremor.
“Please don’t be angry with him. He was trying to be kind,” Leah whispered.
“Putting your life in danger is far from kind,” Lucien returned, his anger not abating, the nightmare too fresh as was this new danger.
Pain slashed through her face before she went on, her voice gentle, “Maybe he’s tired of hiding, Lucien. Maybe he felt he was among friends. Maybe he knew I’d accept him. Maybe he trusted me. That isn’t something to be angry about. That’s an honor he bestowed on me.”
“Letting me break you one day doesn’t make you friend and protector of all immortals the next, Leah.” His tone was sharp and derisive because her words had no effect.
He was still angry.
And troubled.
The Council was considering his request. They owed him and he had friends on The Council, friends who he had no doubt would become allies if things didn’t go his way. Therefore friends who would do all in their considerable power to make things go his way. No one wanted war.
Those who were not friends, those who wished to defy change because they feared it or because they hated him were using Rafe’s behavior as grounds to deny Lucien’s request.
Rafe had not yet taken Lana as a lover but he’d told Lucien he wanted to and he was now spending the night with her, this being the reason why The Council finally called him in. Rafe had not joined with her because he feared for her safety.
Lucien approved of Rafe’s intentions and when speaking to him encouraged them.
As he would encourage any vampire who wished to bloody well behave like a f**king vampire.
If this was known, this would not sway The Council in his favor, even his friends might demur. Allowing Lucien a boon was one thing, allowing rampant and widespread change to centuries of tradition was another.
However, if it was known that Leah held the knowledge that other cultures existed, he’d not get his request granted for she’d be executed.
No, she’d be hunted then she’d be executed.
They had enough to worry about, most of it she didn’t even know, they didn’t f**king need this.
He caught her flinch at his mocking words. It wounded him but he ignored it. He’d make it up to her and she’d forgive him. At that moment he had to make her understand.
“That wasn’t nice,” she whispered.
“No, it wasn’t. I wasn’t trying to be nice, pet. I was trying to get it through that thick, stubborn head of yours that this is serious.”
Her eyes flashed. “I may be stubborn, Lucien…” she hesitated, looking strangely but also hilariously confused for a second then repeated, “Lucien Whatever-your-last-name-is, but I’m not stupid. I think I get it. Certain death is a pretty big motivator to keep a secret.”
When she stopped speaking, she glared at him. He returned her glare. He felt her discomfort well before he was ready to back down.
Finally and waspishly she demanded to know, “What is your last name anyway?”
Lucien relaxed, partially because he believed she understood his concern, mostly because she was amusing.
“Vampires don’t have last names.”
Her anger dissipated, her eyes grew wide and she replied, “So, you’re like Cher? Madonna? You’re just Lucien?”
“Cher and Madonna were born with surnames, they simply don’t use them. But I am ‘just Lucien’.”
Her eyes slid to his shoulder and she mumbled, “How weird.”
Gently, Lucien reminded her, “It’s far from weird.”
Her gaze shot back to his, it went soft and her body became pliant underneath him.
“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” she whispered, each word clearly heartfelt.
Christ, she was sweet.
Twenty years of watching her and hearing of her, he’d had a good idea of what he’d get when he finally had her.
At that moment, he realized he’d had no idea.
And this added blessing settled warmly in his gut.
His weight eased into her soft body and she automatically accommodated it.
He touched his lips to hers and rested their foreheads together. “I know you didn’t, sweetling.”
Her hand slid up to rest on his chest before she asked softly, “Are you going to stop being Scary Lucien now?”
“I’m never Scary Lucien,” he replied and she gave him a look so disbelieving it was comical.
Therefore he shoved his face in her neck and burst out laughing.
He rolled them yet again, positioning her against his side partially on top and she raised her head to look at him as his laughter died down to a chuckle. He lifted his hand to touch her eyebrow with a finger and he smoothed it across the arched line. With his movement, as he’d intended, her face gentled and his finger drifted down her cheek where he touched her lips with his middle three fingertips.
“You never have to be scared of me, sweetheart,” he told her quietly but firmly as his hand dropped away.
She surprised him by asking, “What about when your anger fills the room like a physical thing?”
He wound his arms around her and gathered her closer. “If that happens, Leah, then it happens. There are times when I’ll get angry but no matter how angry I get, you never have anything to fear.”
Regardless of his words and the feeling behind them she persevered. “What about when your body goes all funny?”
He blinked slowly before repeating, “My body goes all funny?”
“Yeah, it gets stiff, the muscles all tense, stand out. I can’t explain it, but –”
Lucien was appalled. “I’ve done that to you?”
She studied him, her look wary then she nodded before saying, “Just now and when, um… that time Katrina came over.”
“Christ,” he muttered, stunned and disgusted with himself. He hadn’t even felt it.