She pressed her mouth over the now closed wound to muffle her cries, he doing the same with his face pressed between the pillow and her hair, his body drawn into a bow over her trembling one, arms and legs intertwined in a way he never wanted to untangle. When he turned his head, he saw Gideon had rolled over, his eyes half-open though still full of drowsiness. It made Jacob wonder if his brother was truly awake or would think the moment was just a dream when he woke later. Then Gideon reached out, stroked a hand of gruff affection over his head, grunted and turned away again. He'd have pulled the covers off them if Jacob hadn't grabbed hold and tugged at the key moment, keeping the blankets equally distributed. "He used to do that all the time when we shared a bed at my aunt and uncle's, " Jacob muttered with a fraternal look of disgust at his brother's wide back. One night, to tease him, I wrapped up in the cov- ers like a burrito before he got into bed. He had to dump me on the floor to unroll me. "It wasn't easy for the two of you. " Surprised, he raised his head to look down into her face, illumi- nated by candles she'd had him light earlier. "No, it wasn't. But it could have been a lot worse. Our aunt and uncle were good to us, even though they had three other kids. That was okay. " His gaze drifted back to Gideon. "We had each other. Always. " A shadow crossed his mind, a familiar specter, one he'd always wrestled with, but now . . . The woman beneath him had lived for centuries. While there were many times he rebelled against her sense of superiority, he couldn't help but wonder at her thoughts. You did what you had to do. You weren't helping him by staying with him any longer. As I said, there comes a time when a person has to find his way out of the quagmire of his own nightmares. You've made it clear you'll be there to grab hold when he finally reaches up out of it. Be easy on that. Nevertheless, he laid a hand on Gideon's back, pressing his palm there as if he could convey the sentiment through touch, brand it on Gideon's heart like a map home.
It's there, Jacob. It's there. "You don't give up, okay?" Jacob whispered to his brother's sleep- ing form. "I need you to be somewhere in the world, you dumb, he- roic son of a bitch. Find a woman of your own. Laura would like that. And as much as I love you, I'm not too fond of sharing mine. " He ignored Lyssa's laughter in his mind and rolled over, keeping her in his arms so he could hold her close under his chin as he suc- cumbed to sleep again.
Chapter Seven
Snever view you as an equal. Watch your back. Serious " HE'LL plans in the works. Guard your lady well. " That was the note on the nightstand in an uneven scrawl when Jacob woke. His body hurt all over, and his brother was gone. Reaching out with his mind, he found his lady had left her shields down enough to let him locate her, asleep in her underground bed- chamber. She'd gotten so she always went there when dawn came, rarely using the upper chamber anymore. It was about ten in the morning. She'd also left him a note, on the opposite side of the bed. "I made sure your brother took some breakfast with him. He thanked me for my hospitality and said if I ever hurt you he'd stake me out in the sunlight and happily watch me burn. I kissed him good- bye until his toes curled and he couldn't walk without embarrassing himself. Maybe we should invite him to join us for Christmas. " Christ on a pogo stick. He laid his head back on the pillow and groaned. This day was not going to go well.
As if the gods were laughing at him, when she woke, she was in quite a mood. She made him oil every curve of her body to moisturize her skin. As a result, he had to handle every part of her intimately, without sexual intent.
He was thorough, making damn sure when he finished she was as aroused as he was. But rather than sate their desire, she announced she wanted to work in her rose garden. She donned the dress she used for gardening and with smug amusement, commanded him to change into a pair of jeans. He was going to help her transplant rosebushes. She didn't let him wear a shirt. Or any underwear. When her gaze lingered on his chest, he saw in her mind the image of her mouth covering his nipple where she'd given him the second mark. To bite him anew, to feel that rush of energy from his pain and plea- sure both. Pulling the zipper up was an excruciating, cautious exercise. Insatiable. That was a word for vampire appetites. So insatiable that even when they were sated, they made sure the object of their lust would be primed and ready for them. His lady liked building sexual energy until it was explosive. Because she'd taught him it was worth the wait, he curbed the desire to try and leap on her like a dog. As he slid into his shabby loafers to join her, a smile passed through her eyes. She gave a soft "whuff " that made him chuckle and Bran's ears prick. Once they got to the garden and started working on the rose- bushes, fortunately the lust settled to a slow simmer, a more quiet intimacy descending. Lyssa trimmed while he dug the holes for transplanting. Though Jacob unearthed the delicate plants under her supervi- sion, Lyssa knew he hardly needed it. He courteously followed her lead as she put the bushes in almost the same arrangement she knew he would have chosen. She'd turned on music in the solar and opened the outside speak- ers so the soft, sultry tones of Jerri Adams floated through the air, singing about what her heart was telling her. The moon was high up in the sky now, a white, glowing pearl. In the corner of her eye, she saw Jacob light a couple of the tiki torches to add to their illumina- tion as she examined the leaves of the rosebushes, checking for blem- ishes or parasites. He didn't initiate conversation. He teased her in ways she unexpectedly enjoyed, gave her conversation when she needed to hear another voice, companionable silence when she didn't.
There were people who could pick up when a person didn't want to talk, but just ignored it, their inner need to express themselves overriding whatever else was happening. He wasn't one of them. He was precognitive, but that kind of sensitivity came from intu-ition. Just like now. When she noted his gaze sliding over her breasts, down to her abdomen, the thought that went through his mind took her by surprise. But he kept on with what he was doing, giving her the option of ignoring it if she chose. Perhaps because of his proximity to her, the way she felt about him, maybe even Thomas's damn nonsensical ideas about past lives, shadows rose in her subconscious. She blocked them. Not only did she not want Jacob privy to those memories, she didn't want to visit them either. "I suspect I'm barren, Jacob, " she said abruptly. "I've been alive all these centuries and I've lain with both vampires and humans. Very few vampire females are fertile. That's why born vampires are considered aristocracy. If they're conceived by two vampires, the rarest form of all, they're treasured. " "How are you considered, my lady?" He lifted his head. "Being of a vampire mother and your father a Fey lord?" She trimmed off several leaves on one of the bushes and discov- ered a hybrid bloom, an unexpected combination of crimson and white. Funny, when all the others on the same branch were red. Full bloodred. "I'm unique among the vampires, so I suppose they don't know what to consider me. Since my mother was not only royalty, but one of the rare children spawned of two vampires, I'm treated as full- blooded aristocracy. They simply choose to ignore my Fey blood, as long as it's evident only in ways that don't disturb their comfort zone. " At his curious look, she raised a shoulder. "My exceptional longevity, even for a vampire. Some discreet evidence of powers I have that they don't. No one knows about my ability to transform to a winged Fey form, Jacob. Only you. Not even Rex or Thomas knew. "