Lips pressing together hotly, warm breath rushing, mingling. His tongue tracing the seam of her mouth, thrusting inside on her wordless gasp of pleasure. She felt his fingers caressing her cheek, sliding into the hair at her temple, then around to her sensitive nape.
He lifted her to him, deeper into the kiss that was melting her, breaking down all her resistance.
No.
Oh, God. No, no, no.
Can't do this. Cannot feel this.
Renata tore herself away from the erotic torture of his mouth, turning her head aside. She was shaking, emotions spiked to a dangerous level. She risked so much here, with him now. Too much.
Mother Mary, but she had to extinguish this flame he'd lit within her. It was molten, deadly so. She had to snuff it out fast. Warm fingers touched her chin, guided her gaze back to the source of her distress. "Are you all right?"
She extracted her hands from his loose, one-fisted grasp above her head and shoved at him, incapable of speech.
He moved off at once. He took her hand and helped her up to her feet, assistance she didn't want but was too stricken to refuse. She stood there, unable to look at him, trying to collect herself.
Praying like hell she hadn't just signed her own death warrant.
"Renata?"
When she finally found her voice, it leaked out of her, quiet and cold with desperation. "Come near me again," she said, "and I swear I will kill you."
Chapter Seven
Alexei had been kept waiting more than ten minutes outside his father's private chambers, his request for an audience given no more consideration than any one of Yakut's other servant guards. The lack of respect - the flagrant disregard - no longer stung Lex as it had at one time. He'd moved past that useless bitterness ages ago, in favor of more productive things.
Oh, in the deepest pit of Lex's belly he still burned to know that his father - his only living kin - could think so little of him, but the heat of constant, blatant rejection had at some point become less painful. It was simply how things were. And Lex was stronger for it, in fact. He was his father's equal in ways the hard old bastard could never imagine, let alone stoop to acknowledge. But Lex knew his own capabilities. He knew his own strengths. He knew without any doubt that he could be so much more than what he was now, and he yearned for the opportunity to prove it. To himself and, yes, to the son of a bitch who fathered him as well.
The snick of the metal latch as the door finally opened brought Lex's pacing feet to a halt. "About fucking time," he snarled at the guard who stepped aside to let him enter.
The room was dim, lit only by the glow of the logs that burned in the massive stone fireplace on the opposite wall. The lodge was wired for electricity, but it was seldom used - no real need for lights when Sergei Yakut and the rest of the Breed had preternaturally acute vision, especially in the dark.
The Breed's other senses were also keenly sharp, but Lex suspected that even a human would be hard-pressed to miss the combined odors of blood and sex that mingled with the tang of woodsmoke.
"My apologies for the interruption," Lex murmured as his father came out of an adjacent room.
Yakut was naked, his cock still partially erect, its ruddy length bobbing obscenely with his each swaggering stride. Revolted by the sight, Lex blinked, started to look away. He quickly thought better of it, refusing to give in to a weak impulse that was sure to be counted against him. Instead he watched his father enter the room, the old vampire's eyes glowing like amber coals set deep into his skull, pupils reduced to narrow vertical slits at their center. His fangs were huge in his mouth, points fully extended and sharp as blades.
A sheen of sweat coated Yakut's body, every inch of him livid with color from the pulsing hues of his dermaglyphs, the unique Breed skin markings that spread from the Gen One's throat to his ankles. Fresh blood - unmistakably human, yet weak- scented enough to indicate a Minion source - smeared across his torso and flanks.
Lex wasn't surprised by the evidence of his father's recent activity, nor by the fact that the trio of muffled voices in the other room were those of his current stock of human mind slaves. Creating and keeping Minions, something only the most powerful, purest bloodlines of the race were capable of doing, had long been an illegal practice among polite Breed society. However, that was among the least of Sergei Yakut's offenses. He made his own rules, dispensed his own justice, and here, in this remote place, he made it clear to all that he was king. Even Lex could appreciate that kind of freedom and power. Hell, he could practically taste it.
Yakut aimed a dismissive glance at him from across the wide space of the room. "I look at you, and I see the dead standing before me."
Lex frowned. "Sir?"
"If not for the warrior's restraint and my intervention tonight, you would be lying beside Urien on that warehouse roof back in the city, both of your corpses awaiting sunrise." Contempt edged every syllable. Yakut picked up an iron tool from hearthside and stabbed at the logs on the grate. "I spared your life tonight, Alexei. What more do you expect I owe you this evening?"
Lex bristled at the reminder of his earlier humiliation, but he knew anger wouldn't serve him well, particularly not when he was facing his father. He gave a deferential bow of his head, finding it a damned hard struggle to keep the edge out of his voice. "I am your faithful servant, Father. You owe me nothing whatsoever. And I ask nothing of you but the honor of your continued trust and confidence in me."
Yakut grunted. "Spoken more like a politician than a soldier. I have no need for politicians in my ranks, Alexei."
"I am a soldier," Lex replied quickly, raising his head and watching as his father continued to jab the iron poker into the fire. The logs broke apart, sparks shooting upward, crackling in the long, deadly silence that fell over the room. "I am a soldier," Lex stated again. "I want to serve you as best I can, Father."
A scoff now, but Yakut swiveled his shaggy head to regard Lex from over his shoulder. "You give me words, boy. I put neither trust nor confidence in words. Lately I can't see that you've offered me anything more."
"How do you expect me to be effective if you don't keep me better informed?" When those amber-hued eyes with their slivered pupils narrowed sharply on him, Lex hurried to add "I ran into the warrior on the grounds. He told me about the recent Gen One killings. He said the Order had contacted you personally to warn you of the potential danger. I should have been made aware of that, Father. As the captain of your guard, I deserve to be informed - "