cleared his throat. “I’m suggesting that she sleep in the cel ar. Alone.”
“I’m not as needy as you seem to think, and I have more control than that. Why did you real y come?”
“What if I stayed with her? I have no affection for those serving the SCU, especial y after what you put me through for the past several decades. I’ll guard her.”
For al Atreides’s denying he cared anything for SCU personnel, Daemon wondered if his brother had more interest in the woman than he was letting on, which could prove disastrous. “I wouldn’t wish to sacrifice you. Return home to your blood bonds.
Keep your ears tuned in case someone mentions something that wil aid us. Also, she’s a telepath. If we need to share something private, channel your telepathic communication directly to me.”
“She’s a telepath? Dammit, Daemon, now you real y can’t stay with her.”
Daemon wasn’t used to his brother’s interference, and he wouldn’t tolerate it from him or anyone else. “She hasn’t any control over me. Go, and remain alert.”
Atreides hesitated, then reluctantly bowed his head and left.
Daemon ensured al of his safeguards were in place, the spel s that would keep any vampire from entering his home who’d been invited in before. Though normal y his brother and others could pop in anytime they liked when his house wasn’t safeguarded, it would be rude to do so. Everyone asked permission to cross the threshold into a vampire’s abode, unless the one who gained entrance did so with malicious intent.
When Daemon walked into the bedroom, he sensed Tezra’s light breathing, her slower pulse. Asleep. Thank God . In a flash, he removed his clothes, having no intention of remaining clothed when he normal y didn’t sleep that way. The bed was his after al , and he hadn’t wanted her in it in the first place. If she didn’t like it, she could return to the cel ar.
“Hmmm, yes,” she murmured in her mind.
He stared at the brunette, her long hair draped over her damnable skin-tight turtleneck, but she appeared sound asleep.
“Yes, yes,” she said again.
He raised his brows. She talked telepathical y in her sleep? Taking a deep breath, he slid under the covers on his side of the bed, though technical y both sides were his.
“Tell me, what are you thinking?” he asked, slipping into her thoughts.
She lay very stil , and her mind seemed to shut down. Her subtle jasmine fragrance lingered in his sheets. He took a deep breath, his blood stirring. Her heart rate had increased, and she whimpered, clutching at the pil ow beneath her cheek. She shook her head back and forth slowly as if her reflexes were dul ed. A sob escaped her lips.
Reaching out, he ran his fingers over her hair, the strands soft beneath his fingertips. He meant only to calm her. Touching her cheek, he found tears. He pul ed his hand away as if she’d burned him. She was only having a nightmare. It would go away, but if he began to have feelings for her, his nightmares would only begin.
“Katie…Katie, oh no, dear God, Katie . ” She spoke the words breathlessly in her mind, hesitant, frightened.
Was it some jumbled, made-up nightmare, or a past recol ection? She wept more, and he fisted his hands. If he returned her to the cel ar, he could sleep. No, he couldn’t. He’d stil hear her thoughts.
“Oh dear God, oh dear God . ” She bit her lip until he smel ed blood.
Dear God was right. The pulsing, burning need to taste her blood fil ed him with a sense of urgency.
What now, dammit? He could lick her wound, memorize the taste of her blood for al eternity and stop the bleeding, or he could agonize over the smel of it, listen to her rapid pulse, and try to keep his canines under control.
“Mom, Dad, oh, what have I done?” she cried.
As much as he didn’t want to care, or know anything about her, he couldn’t help himself. He never ignored someone who was in pain.
He leaned over and touched his tongue to her lip, licking
“I’m not as needy as you seem to think, and I have more control than that. Why did you real y come?”
“What if I stayed with her? I have no affection for those serving the SCU, especial y after what you put me through for the past several decades. I’ll guard her.”
For al Atreides’s denying he cared anything for SCU personnel, Daemon wondered if his brother had more interest in the woman than he was letting on, which could prove disastrous. “I wouldn’t wish to sacrifice you. Return home to your blood bonds.
Keep your ears tuned in case someone mentions something that wil aid us. Also, she’s a telepath. If we need to share something private, channel your telepathic communication directly to me.”
“She’s a telepath? Dammit, Daemon, now you real y can’t stay with her.”
Daemon wasn’t used to his brother’s interference, and he wouldn’t tolerate it from him or anyone else. “She hasn’t any control over me. Go, and remain alert.”
Atreides hesitated, then reluctantly bowed his head and left.
Daemon ensured al of his safeguards were in place, the spel s that would keep any vampire from entering his home who’d been invited in before. Though normal y his brother and others could pop in anytime they liked when his house wasn’t safeguarded, it would be rude to do so. Everyone asked permission to cross the threshold into a vampire’s abode, unless the one who gained entrance did so with malicious intent.
When Daemon walked into the bedroom, he sensed Tezra’s light breathing, her slower pulse. Asleep. Thank God . In a flash, he removed his clothes, having no intention of remaining clothed when he normal y didn’t sleep that way. The bed was his after al , and he hadn’t wanted her in it in the first place. If she didn’t like it, she could return to the cel ar.
“Hmmm, yes,” she murmured in her mind.
He stared at the brunette, her long hair draped over her damnable skin-tight turtleneck, but she appeared sound asleep.
“Yes, yes,” she said again.
He raised his brows. She talked telepathical y in her sleep? Taking a deep breath, he slid under the covers on his side of the bed, though technical y both sides were his.
“Tell me, what are you thinking?” he asked, slipping into her thoughts.
She lay very stil , and her mind seemed to shut down. Her subtle jasmine fragrance lingered in his sheets. He took a deep breath, his blood stirring. Her heart rate had increased, and she whimpered, clutching at the pil ow beneath her cheek. She shook her head back and forth slowly as if her reflexes were dul ed. A sob escaped her lips.
Reaching out, he ran his fingers over her hair, the strands soft beneath his fingertips. He meant only to calm her. Touching her cheek, he found tears. He pul ed his hand away as if she’d burned him. She was only having a nightmare. It would go away, but if he began to have feelings for her, his nightmares would only begin.
“Katie…Katie, oh no, dear God, Katie . ” She spoke the words breathlessly in her mind, hesitant, frightened.
Was it some jumbled, made-up nightmare, or a past recol ection? She wept more, and he fisted his hands. If he returned her to the cel ar, he could sleep. No, he couldn’t. He’d stil hear her thoughts.
“Oh dear God, oh dear God . ” She bit her lip until he smel ed blood.
Dear God was right. The pulsing, burning need to taste her blood fil ed him with a sense of urgency.
What now, dammit? He could lick her wound, memorize the taste of her blood for al eternity and stop the bleeding, or he could agonize over the smel of it, listen to her rapid pulse, and try to keep his canines under control.
“Mom, Dad, oh, what have I done?” she cried.
As much as he didn’t want to care, or know anything about her, he couldn’t help himself. He never ignored someone who was in pain.
He leaned over and touched his tongue to her lip, licking
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