Chapter Seven

He hated it when she didn`t fight. And this time her self-abandonment nearly had driven him over the edge.

Savoring the last drop of her precious life-force on his lips he turned to look at her beautiful body that lay sprawled like an offering on the stone bench.

She barely breathed. Her skin as white as the silken nightgown he had ordered her to wear.

He couldn`t afford to lose her. Not now! Now, that he was so close to finally take his revenge.

She may have forced him to swear not to kill her or hurt her beloved, but that did not include not using them as he pleased.

In return she had promised to sustain him with her blood. Blood that carried the purest form of magic he had ever experienced.

An eternity ago people had feared him for the power he wielded, but compared to hers this had been only prestidigitation.

Their magical pact had been sealed with blood so that breaking it would be the downfall for the both of them.

This time it had been close. And a part of him suspected that she was tempting him on purpose.

Looking back at his reflection in the mirror, he couldn`t blame her.

Love was forever lost to a creature like him!

Closing his eyes he murmured the spell of disguise.

As he opened them again they had switched to an amber color with tiny golden spots sparkling in their depths. A nice contrast to the jet-black hair, that reached the collar of his tailored Armani suit.

His perfectly sculptured lips curled into a smile as he reached in his pocket for his mobile.

He only had a few hours. Hitting the speed-dial he went into battle.

„Shit! Shit! Shit!"

Lilian Rosenberg was having a hard time keeping her Porsche 911 on the street with the heel of her Prada boot being stuck in the floor mat underneath the gas. The fact, that she was driving nearly 40 miles over limit didn`t really bother her, but there were definitely too many humans crawling along the three lanes of the Mittlere Ring. Acting on instincts she navigated her baby in a neck breaking slalom through the traffic ahead.

The moment she had opened her eyes, her guts had told her that this would be a night where trouble was just waiting for a place to happen. Her Jewish nose rarely was mistaken and only a few minutes later her fears were confirmed by the shrill sound of "Here comes the king" coming from her mobile. She didn`t bother to answer the call. Nor was she expected to.

His majesty didn`t like to talk, but he estimated a prompt appearance. Prompt in the kind of why-did-you-bother-to-dress way!

And she would definitely be late!

At least she had finally managed to free her boot and get the car back on track.

Desperate situations sometimes take desperate measures! she told herself while switching through her phone book. Why did she never put his number on speed-dial?

Because this will only happen over your dead body! her heart reminded her.

He answered at the first ring.

"Did you finally squeeze your nice little butt in one of your skintight leathers?" His voice was dripping with innuendo.

Count before you speak! she reminded herself.

She managed a three.

"My butt is so none of your business anymore, Martin!"

Her fingers tried to strangle the steering wheel.

"If you want me to put in a good word for you Sweatheart, you should perhaps reconsider that thought."

There was this slight purr in his voice, a part of her remembered all too well.

"That would be the day when hell freezes!" she purred back, switching from anger to cynicism.

"Well, how convenient that devil`s brother has already made up an excuse for you."

"You did!?" Now he got her from cynicism to surprise. "Why?"

"Because it`s something about Eric Northman. And that`s definitely your business!"

The line went dead.

This was not only trouble waiting for a place to happen - this was a disaster already on the loose!

Eric Northman was the only man she detested even more than Martin Kramer. But unfortunately he was also her maker!

Braced against the walls of the small shower cabin, Eric simply enjoyed the hot water pouring over his head and shoulders. By now only red marks were left from his wounds, but he still didn`t fully trust his legs.

Six months!

Even if he would rub the second half of her shower gel over his body, he would still feel dirty.

He had to find out the Who? and the Why?, but first he had to find a way to get out of this shower without embarrassing her. There was no way he would ever put on his old trousers again!

Reluctantly he switched off the water and opened the door of the shower cabin. To his surprise there was a stack of fresh blue towels on a stool right next to him.

He smiled, imagining that she had come back while he was showering to give him even more comfort than she already had.

It hadn`t been easy for her to support his weight all the way upstairs to the first floor. And he didn`t have the power to take it all on his own.

Toweling himself off, he remembered her laughter, the warmth of her body, her smell and the taste of her blood.

Her blood! It had tasted different.

She might have fed him with a blood pack, but it had been the small amount she had given him the night before that had restored him so quickly.

Another question added to his long list. It was time to get some answers!

Wrapping the towel around his hips he stepped out into her bedroom.

"Nice to see, that you kept my present", Martin said while Lilian passed him by. She had nearly driven him over while sliding the Porsche into a halt on the slip road of House Montgelas.

"I might have a bad taste in men, but not in cars", she shot back, heading towards the entrance.

He couldn`t take his amber eyes from her butt. Her hips might have a typical female kick, but the rest of her posture more than clearly signaled "Don`t piss me off! I`m running out of places to hide to bodies!"

Well, she hadn`t been named a Sheriff for nothing. And for a long time she had been the only one in Munich.

"Talking about men...when was the last time you saw this Northman?" He asked, after catching up with her in the entrance hall.

"That is an answer I would be interested in, too", a voice thundered from the staircase.

Turning to face the king of Bavaria, Lilian reluctantly bowed. A part of her would never accept his reign. Officially he might have brought down the murderer of her former sovereign, but his election had been a close run. Some of the vampires in her area still believed, that he himself had ordered the killing.

Besides that, there was still a private account to be settled between them.

Patience, she calmed herself. This was neither the right time nor the right place!

"About six months ago," she answered, keeping her gaze downcast.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched Martin wince ever so slightly.

Within the split of a second she found herself nose to nose with the counterpart of the man next to her.

Like his twin-brother, the king was the epitome of male beauty. The only difference was the brightness of their amber eyes. Right now a pair of them stared accusingly down at her.

"This just made you my prime suspect, darling", Maximilian`s deep baritone whispered. His voice deadly serious.

Eric couldn`t believe his sight.

Neatly presented on her bed lay a pair of brand-new black jeans and an obviously expensive black shirt.

She even remembered his taste!

Shame washed over him, as his fingers stroke over the soft fabric.

The night she had entered Fangtasia, the club had been overcrowded with fangbangers. If he wouldn`t have felt her wiccan blood, he would never have given her a second look.

So far for his knowledge in human nature!

It was definitely time for a second, he thought while dressing. Especially as we are on par now!

Cassandra felt him coming long before she heard his naked feet on the stairs.

Her emotions had sent her on a rollercoaster-ride over the last few hours. But the last 30 minutes had been the worst part. Her mind had teased her with pictures of water running over broad shoulders, lean features and a tight butt.

After actually touching him, her hormones still somersaulted. On their way upstairs she more than once had to carry his chest to keep him from falling. Although his skin had felt like frozen fire, his lean muscles had an addictive quality.

You`re so not gonna fall for a vampire!

To seal this promise, she picked the bottle of Glen Livet, one of the few things she had managed to unpack until now.

"Thanks again."

The bottle went flying.

But before she even had the time to turn, Eric had already flashed himself to her side, keeping the bottle from hitting the floor.

He smelled like an ocean breeze and while he rose from his crouch, Cassandra wondered how many women already had drowned in the blue depths of his eyes.

She had picked up the right sizes. The shirt was tight enough to not only guess the eight-pack and the jeans sat low on his hips, scoring the fact that there was nothing underneath.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pouring her a drink.

If I could just shut down that hormonal overflow you cause, I might be – one day! was the answer her mind wanted to scream.

"Yeah, sorry." She voiced out loud, drowning the double shot he had handed her.

His fingers followed his eyes as they touched the still messed bandage around her left hand.

"You should take care of this, unless you want to risk an infection."

Cassandra could hardly breathe. She so wished it would be the whiskey that burned inside her stomach. But there was no way to deny, that his fingers were the bigger threat for suffocation.

Frozen by fascination she watched his long fingers first peel off the tiny hooks and then carefully unwrap her stitched hand.

"I would gladly offer you my blood to speed the healing." His eyes carried a deep sorrow, as they went to her scarred neck.

Temptation on the loose!

But there is always a price to pay! she reminded herself, covering her neck with her free hand.

The spell was broken. She freed her cut hand and turned to the sink.

"I appreciate your offer…", she said, going for the still open bottle. "But I think some good old alcohol should be enough."

What a waste!

Following her unvoiced plea, Eric stepped back.

"I`m sorry, but I lack the routine in being in someone's debt. And when it comes to you, it`ll probably take an eternity to pay it back."

Gone were airiness, laughter and sexual tension. He seemed to be back to business.

"I don`t expect anything from you, Eric. I mostly freed you for my own sake. A vampire in the cellar is not very helpful when you try to start your life all over."

Cassandra turned to face him. Her jaw set due to the sting in her hand.

"Talking about starting one`s life all over - you probably want to call someone. Phone is right around the corner. Just try to keep it short. I can`t afford long distance calls."

Head held high she passed him by. She needed some fresh air!

The moment she stepped out into the garden, there were already tears in her eyes.

Nervous breakdown...Hysteria...mental disease...?

She would diagnose all three of them.

But worst was the longing!

She longed for a normal life, a family, someone who cared for her, loved her. Her craving had come to a point where she didn`t even care to sate it in the arms of a vampire. The very one that had destroyed her life!

As the first tears fell to the grass, she felt a strong arm closing around her waist.

"You..." she started, trying to free herself. The arm turned into a steel band, while a hand went for her throat.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw fangs flashing.

"No!" she screamed, noticing that it was not Eric.