"I'm done with this. Begone from me tonight. Don't forget about the rug. " It was the wrong moment for a dismissal. The thoughts in his mind came at her like depth charges exploding in an ocean of black- ness. Lyssa almost flinched, but she faced the fireplace, ignoring him. Perhaps her timing was off, but he was expected to obey. That was all. She would have made concessions for his feelings after the terrible events of the night, but the defiance she felt rolling off him raised her own hackles. "Why can't you just learn to obey?" "Because a human servant isn't a trained monkey, " he snapped. "And because you keep wanting to draw a line between us you know doesn't belong there. " He'd stomped forward, back into her space, his blue eyes blazing, hands clenched. She had no concerns he would try to hurt her. That wasn't what the fury pumping off of him was about, but it had the ability to strike her just the same. Drawing herself up, she pivoted to square off with him fully, forcing a look of disdain on her face and securely locking her mind from him. "Jacob, even if we were the same species, pedophilia doesn't even cover our age difference. " "Don't give me that, " he said. "What about someone like Lord Brian? There's not much difference between us, about three or four decades. " "I do view Brian as a child, still a fledgling. " He rolled his eyes. "I'm a grown man and you're a grown woman. If Thomas's crazy theory is right, my soul is older than you because I was an adult guard when you were still in diapers. " She glared at him. "That's ridiculous, and it's not relevant. I de- mand your absolute obedience to my will, even when it conflicts with your bullheaded, outmoded ideas of chivalry. Thomas let it guide his actions, just once, and he ended up dead. " "It was his fault, then. For loving you too much? Just as it's my fault that girl is dead? It couldn't be because you vampires are totally fucked up. It's our fault for being idiot humans. " "No. " It burst out as a shout, startling her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd shouted. Often she'd felt impotent fury at Rex's actions, but it had to be controlled.
She let this loose, let it fill her, the whole useless mess that had been this evening. "It was my fault. For letting him believe he had the right to love me that much. For enjoy- ing his friendship too much, for forgetting that you can only serve us. It doesn't matter what I wish or want. You cannot be one of us. " "Who would want that?" While Jacob knew it was a mistake, Irish temper was Irish temper, and it didn't often respond to his reins any better than he did to hers. "Cold, ruthless, soulless crea- tures who think they're so bloody fucking superior to us, when they can't even get along without adopting rigid territory rules as if they live in medieval Europe. Who are no better than any species that thinks it has the right to brutalize other ones because they can't fight you. Who consider us nothing . . . " The girl's dying gaze flashed through his mind. "Nothing, " he repeated. "You consider me noth- ing, my lady. " A muscle twitched in her delicate jaw. He knew he should stop. Instead, he plowed onward. "But there are times when it all slips away, doesn't it? Then you're just like any of the rest of us that live and breathe . . . Need. Then I'm something to you, far more than you want me to be. Keep your mind closed like a bloody fucking trap all you want; I know it. I've felt it when you touch me, watch me when you don't think I know you're watching. And that cunt of yours that gets so wet for me doesn't mind stooping to take in the cock of a dumb animal, does it?" The strike was fast, snapping his head back as she took him across the face with her knuckles, cutting him with the rings she wore. But it wasn't about strength. She could have punched him through two walls, but she chose the act of female contempt in- stead. "I won't be spoken to like that. " Lyssa bared her fangs. Blood was trickling from his lip. Despite her rage, she found she had to fight to keep her voice steady and push away the overwhelming desire to slam him to the carpet, tear into the wound and force him to under- stand just what a vampire's nature would stoop to doing. "Get out of my sight. Don't seek me until I bid you come to me. " "Gladly. After all, you don't need me around until you need your hair combed or your ass wiped.
Things most of us inferior humans learn to do for ourselves before we reach kindergarten. " Snarling, he turned on his heel, leaving the room. The kitchen door at the back of the house slammed hard enough to vibrate the walls. She stood there, the fire crackling behind her, absorbing the an- ger in the room. It was as if the flames were swallowing the air as well, for now she was short of breath, her violent reaction draining away and leaving only the emotional pain she knew it had masked. She'd used it as a weapon, and her feelings for him had almost turned it against herself, with dire consequences for them both. The truth was he'd scared her to death. Each time she thought of him shooting Carnal, she experienced the terror anew, when she'd thought she wouldn't intercept in time. She also remembered her dark pleasure at the way he'd hurt Carnal. That second of entirely personal and vengeful satisfaction could have cost Jacob his life. The thought brought another disturbing, if far more distant, memory to her mind. Jun, her samurai guard, who had watched over her during her sleeping hours in the opulent nursery she had below- ground. Sometimes, she'd been able to coax him into taking his long dark hair out of its knot so she could press her face into it. Pretend- ing she was behind a curtain, she'd hide from him until he flipped it away and revealed a ferocious warrior's face that made her giggle. He played a flute to help her sleep, rocking her on his thighs, letting her hold on to his hair and sway, as if in the cradle of a solid oak's branches. The disturbing part came later, when his face was a mask of fe- rocity in truth, teeth bared, muscles bunched and running with sweat and blood as he took a spear through his abdomen and yet kept fighting. Holding on to the shaft, he'd cut down its bearer and snapped the end against a wall, pulling it free and charging forward, roaring at her maidservant to take her and run, run . . . Lyssa shuddered, pulling herself back to the present. When Ja- cob stood facing her just now, she'd smelled the soap on his hands from washing off the soil of Melinda's grave, scrubbing it from be- neath his nails. His eyes were sick with what he'd just done, and she'd wanted to comfort him. She'd made him bury her alone, just as she'd made Thomas die alone, and both of them had done nothing but serve her with complete loyalty.