Page 70 of Vampire's Choice
“You threaten me with my knife again, I’ll knock you out of this tree,” she told him.
“You can try. I’m not worried about the fall.” His lip curled. “Wasn’t that also in the song? We don’t worry about the fall… ‘because of the cowboy in us all?’”
Lady Yvette leaned against the pillar outside her yurt. Small metal squares covered the wood. Each one represented a troupe member. When they were fully accepted as part of the Circus family, he or she could add their seal to the post, telling Gundar what they wanted on it. He was as accomplished with metal engraving as he was crafting weapons.
When it was put in place, she wove its energy with the others, pulling that member even deeper into the bonds of the Circus.
Only one long-term resident had never gone through that ritual. He didn’t see himself as part of them. Many of the Circus members didn’t see him that way, either. Though it had been some time since Merc had fully broken the parameters that allowed him to be here, Yvette had never issued the invitation. An essential ingredient had always been missing. For both of them.
Trust.
As she absorbed the camp activity, she confirmed all was well. A usually pleasurable task, drinking in the emotions. Excitement, flirting, friendship. The good kind of weariness. Effort and concentration, as someone practiced their Circus skills. Sexual pleasure, mostly explored inside the RVs, since they weren’t inside a portal space. Amiable competition at card games, or companionship over meals.
Her scan paused over the silhouette of the pine tree grove at the far end of their encampment. Eavesdropping wasn’t part of this, unless it was warranted. It was the energy that came to her that held her focus.
She opened her mind to share what she was experiencing with Gundar. He stood by her side, “listening,” arms crossed over his chest. She touched his shoulder, his neck, tracing the artery with a sharp nail. Felt the pump of reaction.
He didn’t move, though he was ready for her command. If she wanted blood and his body, he would go into the yurt and wait by her bed. When she bid him do so, he would get up onto it and prop his back upon the pillows, his boots courteously left on the floor.
She would lie in the curve of his strong arm—those who thought length mattered in the estimation of that were incorrect—put her mouth to his throat and sink in. Her Dom servant liked her to give him pain, not be gentle. Unlike Charlie, whom she treated like an egg when she drew blood from the slim healer.
People’s differences held their secrets. Yvette’s attention turned toward Maddock. The sorcerer sat on a chair he’d brought out of Yvette’s yurt, to enjoy the night air. He’d remained quiet while she did her status check, but he had a distraction. Charlie knelt at his feet, leaning against his leg. His hand was in her hair, his thumb teasing the bra strap on her shoulder, bared by the scooped neckline of her dress.
Some of Yvette’s second marks, like Dollar, were marked merely for operational needs, to provide the close communication Yvette required. Charlie and Gundar were different. She fed from them, and they shared her bed when she had that desire. Both carried a symbol of that more intimate commitment, a ruby that reflected the red hues in the Circus logo. Charlie, wore it on a necklace that nestled between her collar bones, whereas Gundar wore it worked into the metalcraft of his belt buckle.
When Maddock was here, Charlie was his. Volatile negotiations over the years had worked that out between them. Yvette still reserved the right to revoke his privileges when he was an idiot. Well, specifically related to his behavior toward Charlie, since Maddock was generally an idiot. Even if he was an outstanding sorcerer and a friend.
“It’s like a courtship between two wild animals,” Maddock said. His gaze was trained in the same direction as hers. “The male bringing the female prizes while displaying plumage. In this case, stealing my cake and showing off those panty-dropping wings. Should have spelled the food to zap his fingers.”
“I can make more,” Charlie assured him, propping her chin on his knee, amusement in her voice. “I think it’s sweet.”
“Yeah. Merc being sweet. That trips my freak-o-meter right off the charts.”
“Ruth is a different experience for Merc,” Yvette noted thoughtfully. “Though she has no physical advantages over him, she’s not afraid of him, like most females are, unless he uses his compulsion abilities to draw them in.”
“You’re not afraid of him,” Maddock pointed out.
“I’m a Dominant.”
Maddock’s expression flickered with surprise, but before he could ask the question, an annoyed male voice intervened.
“I thought I made it clear that Merc playing with my sister isn’t a good idea.”
Adan strode around the curve of Yvette’s yurt. He’d been working on a minor glitch to the protection spell for the Big Top. Maddock could have fixed it, too, but Adan was Yvette’s backup for problems Maddock might not be available to resolve. She liked giving both males the opportunity to stay familiar with Circus magic.
“You knew he was close enough to hear,” Maddock observed.
“It’s best we have this out.” Yvette gave Adan an impatient look. “You told me your opinion. I didn’t say I was going to act on it. You could see what was happening at the sparring match. It’s not just him playing with her. She’s playing with him.”
“But we understand your concern,” Charlie put in before the two vampires—one a sorceress and one a Light Guardian—could get snappish and put body parts and inanimate objects at risk. “My lady is letting things take their natural course, but keeping an eye on things for the same reason it concerns you. To make sure he doesn’t harm her.”
Maddock gestured the tense Adan to another chair he’d brought out. “You know your sister better than any of us. You know she’s tough.”
“Yeah, but not always tough enough. When we were growing up, she let me take the lead, but she was right there at my side, ready to provide back up with a ferocity that rabid badgers wish they had. If someone tries to corner her, no matter how strong they are, she’ll fight.” His jaw flexed. “She won’t win. She’ll get bloody. And even if she knows her opponent can kill her, she won’t back down.”
“It makes you afraid for her, even as you wouldn’t want her to be any other way,” Maddock said.
“Letting fear rule you destroys everything you hope for yourself,” Adan said. “So, yeah. Doesn’t mean I want to throw her in the path of danger.”