influence.
“This isn’t a house; it’s a hotel,” she’d commented about the place Mencheres initially picked out, and the former pharaoh acquiesced to living somewhere smaller without a single word of protest.
“See?” I’d whispered to Bones, nudging him with a grin. “He never argues with her. Isn’t that sweet?”
A snort preceded his response. “Keep dreaming, pet.”
Bones put the Ducati in park just as the front door opened and Gorgon, a Nordic version of Alfred to Mencheres’s Batman, came out. I took off my helmet, pulling out my iPod earphones at the same time—hey, I hadn’t needed to pay attention to traffic as a passenger—only to have something aside from Norah Jones’s latest CD assail my ears.
Gorgon’s features were perfectly composed, as if there wasn’t a symphony of moans and groans coming from one of the upper rooms of the house behind him.
“ Bones, Cat. Mencheres is regrettably detained at the moment, but please, come in.”
It was only my new vampiric control that allowed me to keep a straight face, but Bones just laughed.
“He clearly hasn’t gotten his bedroom soundproofed yet, so we’re quite aware he’s not regretting his ‘detainment’ in the least.”
A crashing sound followed by an extended feminine squeal made me look up at the house in bewilderment. What was he doing to her?
Gorgon blinked even as Bones’s chuckle grew wicked. “I don’t know, but I’ll be sure to ask him later.”
Oops. Must’ve said that out loud. I cleared my throat, once again fighting to appear nonchalant, despite what all of us could still hear in graphic detail.
“Um, what lovely gardens in the back,” I stammered. “I don’t think we got a chance to check them out the last time we were here, Bones.”
“We’ll be back in round an hour,” he told Gorgon, raising his voice so more than the blond vampire could hear him. From the continued noises upstairs, I doubted Mencheres got the message, but I didn’t stay around long enough to find out. I walked into the field behind the house, popping my iPod speakers back into my ears. With my pace and a few clicks of the volume, soon I could hear nothing but Norah crooning on about young blood and ghosts going home. Much better than listening to Bones’s co-ruler and his girlfriend getting their freak on.
Bones caught up to me in a few long strides, not saying a word, though his twitching lips spoke volumes about how my discomfort amused him. Nothing embarrassed him, of course. Working as a gigolo for London’s wealthy, bored wives had killed any shame in him long before becoming a vampire killed his humanity. This wasn’t the first time I’d overheard people having sex, having preternatural hearing since I was a child. But this was Mencheres , the solemn, somewhat scary vampire whose extensive powers unnerved me ever since I’d first met him. So it was another shade of weird entirely, hearing him hoot and holler like, well, a normal person.
“At least he’ll be in a good mood when we finally speak to him,” I told Bones without taking my earpieces out.
He pulled me to him in response, his mouth covering mine before I could even formulate a word. A long, hungry kiss seemed to ignite flares along my nerve endings as his tongue caressed mine with deep strokes and tantalizing flicks. Lust filled my senses from my connection to him and my own response, a double punch to my emotions that made me arch against him despite my surprise.
“We’ll be in a good mood, too,” he murmured after taking the earphones out, then began to undo my jeans while his mouth burned a sensual trail down my neck.
My head fell back even as I sputtered out a protest. “You can’t be serious. Someone could see.”
The house was only about a hundred yards away from where we stood. Sure, it was dark out and the grass around us was high, but not that high! Anyone undead
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham