Page 140 of Vampire's Choice

Font Size:

Page 140 of Vampire's Choice

As she moved into the corridor, one of the house staff was coming their way. She addressed Garron. “Lady Kaela has a return call from Mr. Shalimar, regarding the insurance on her waterfront businesses,” she said.

“I’ll take it.” Kaela passed Ruth with a courteous nod, and strode down the corridor, heels clicking, head up, the silk of her dress rippling across her narrow back. Garron’s gaze followed her. He didn’t look at Ruth, either to keep himself from shooting a look on her that would be entirely inappropriate from a servant, or because he was communicating so intently with Kaela he had no room to spare for the pretense of doing otherwise.

Ruth didn’t care about that. She just had to go.

I’ll find you, Merc told her. Go where you need to go. I need to speak to Garron first.

As Ruth went up the stairs and took the direction opposite from Kaela’s, Merc didn’t want to let her go, but her mind was blasting her need for space. He would give her that for a few minutes, just as he suspected Garron would for Lady Kaela.

Though the man’s tension suggested how difficult that decision was, the one thing they’d proven in this sealed chamber was how much self-discipline Kaela and her servant/Master had to exercise, to maintain a successful façade for the true dynamic of their relationship.

Garron gave him a rigid nod. His gesture to Merc, to come back into the protected room, might as well have been the thrust of a middle finger. However, he didn’t say anything until he secured the door, so they couldn’t be heard by anyone else, unless Kaela chose to listen in on their mind link. Garron wouldn’t be able to keep her out, but if Garron truly was her Master, perhaps they’d agreed she’d only do that when he permitted it.

When Garron turned toward him, Merc faced a human male who’d served as a warrior, who had a Dominant personality, and whose submissive had been hurt. A woman he loved enough to give her what most men like him wouldn’t consider possible to ask of themselves.

“I want to punch you in the face. If you punch me back, I know I’ll land somewhere on the eastern coast, but if you have a fair bone in your body, you owe me that one. You knew. You wouldn’t leave it alone.”

“She had a great desire to reveal it,” Merc said. “She knew about Ruth. So did you. I merely brought the game to an end.”

“It’s not a game. Ruth has your protection. You could stand against ten vampires and come out the winner. I’m Kaela’s emotional armor, keeping her balanced, giving her a way to submit. But I can’t protect her physically worth shit and we both know it.”

Garron stopped and steadied himself. “She accepts it. I have to live with it. It’s a crappy way to live, but there are worse ones.”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you committed to be her servant,” Merc observed.

The male looked like he really would hit Merc. Instead he went for a different blow. “Okay. Tomorrow, someone bigger and more powerful than you—I’m sure there’s someone out there that qualifies, because there always is—tells you to walk away from Ruth for her physical wellbeing, leaving her needs unmet, and all alone with that shit in her head. What’s your response?”

Merc’s jaw tightened. “I’m from a more powerful race, and there’s no prohibition against our bond, in her world or mine. I can protect her, unlike you. I’m not trying to be unkind. I’m merely pointing out what you did yourself.”

Garron’s expression went to stone. “You don’t know Kaela’s heart. What she wants and needs. I’m her Master, and there are two sides to that coin. Actually, probably limitless sides, but the point is, the more I learned about her heart, her soul, and her incredibly intelligent mind, I knew I would never deny her what she wants and needs. No true Master can. Not one who loves his submissive down to that level of the soul.”

The words effectively turned a mirror on himself, on his still new and uncharted feelings for Ruth. When Merc said nothing, Garron made a grim, satisfied nod and moved toward the door.

When he reached it, before he deactivated the security, Garron paused. “Everyone dies. Living is something most of us spend our lives struggling with, how to do it the best way we can,” he said. “Maybe we get it right, maybe we fuck it up, but there are things we know we did right. However Kaela and I end up in this fucked-up vampire world that can’t see beyond its narrow view and prejudices, we’re both sure of that.”

Merc knew the words weren’t directed only toward him. Garron’s gaze flickered as if he’d received some kind of acknowledgement, but sadness and pain came with it. The urgency with which he started to plug in the security code said their conversation was at an end. His lady needed him.

Merc put his hand on the door before he could open it. Garron shot him a warning and impatient look, but Merc held up a hand.

“She’s lonely. Ruth. She’s fearless, but she longs for another like herself. I forced the matter into the open so she could make that connection. I didn’t consider Kaela, the pacing, as I perhaps should have. I also didn’t anticipate Ruth’s reaction to a human servant being your lady’s Master.”

“Neither did Kaela.” Garron’s expression eased a fraction and he sighed. “In fairness, the whole dinner setup was for her to take the opportunity if the optimal opening came. But your opening was not optimal.”

“Perhaps we should have coordinated before dinner, since we both knew our ladies’ hearts.”

“Yeah, maybe. But I don’t know you. And my loyalty is to her.”

“Understood.” Merc met the man’s gaze. “Is she going to be all right?”

“She’s always all right. She’s the strongest, smartest woman I know. But every time she’s hurt, I feel the wound here.” Garron tapped a fist against his chest. He paused, and while the set of his jaw showed his anger with Ruth, his question showed his understanding of where her head might be at. “And yours?”

“Ruth’s reaction was honest, but she’ll be upset with herself. She wouldn’t willingly hurt someone she respects.”

“Submissives are pretty universal in how they handle thinking they fucked up, or actually fucking up. They need their Masters to help them deal with it.”

“Will your lady allow you to do that?”

“If she doesn’t put my head through a wall. She does have a temper.”




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books