Read The Vampire Narcise for Free Online Page B

stronger in her belly.
    “He must take care of his investment, no?” Cale replied. His voice was light, but she saw a flash of anger in his eyes and tightness at the corner of his mouth.
    Her throat had gone dry and she found it difficult to swallow. Was it possible he understood? “My brother certainly doesn’t wish any serious injury on me,” she said, keeping her voice steady. It was a true statement, though barely so.
    Cale hadn’t released her gaze, and she found herself trapped in it, looking at the blue and black flecks in his rich brown eyes. “I was prepared to intervene that night,” he said, his voice a low rumble.
    Narcise felt the bottom of her belly drop. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think at first; her lips had formed a silent O. She clamped them closed as she tore her eyes from him.
    “Monsieur Cale,” was all that she managed to say, even as her heart pounded and an odd fluttering rushed through her. “That would have been foolish.”
    All pretense that she hadn’t remembered him was now gone in the face of astonishment and gratitude. He would have intervened? He would have helped her?
    What would Cezar have done?
    Suddenly she felt warm and shaky, breathless—and foolish,for the light-headedness was sudden and unexpected. The air had turned so thick, lush with the sweet-peppery smoke, and the deep, dark allure of fresh blood. Her fangs were trying to thrust free, her hands trembling. Before she quite realized what was happening, she felt his fingers close around her wrist, and another strong arm sliding around her waist.
    “Some air, mademoiselle,” he said, leading her away. “It has become too close in here. And you have not fed.”
    “No,” she protested, determination penetrating the haze. Cezar wouldn’t permit such a thing. She dug her heels in, despite the pressure on her arm, despite her need to escape the dangers of this place.
    “When is the last time you fed?” Cale demanded, his mouth too close to her ear. Warmth flushed through her; his scent enveloped her along with the heat of his body.
    The world swirled a bit, glazed with red heat, then as she blinked and steadied herself, she focused. “I will feed in the morning,” she told him. “When we return.” If Cezar permits.
    That was his way of enforcing her good behavior on social events such as this. He didn’t starve her; that would be foolish. But he withheld just enough, just long enough, that she was in need. And pliable. And she knew better than to partake without his permission.
    The air had cleared a bit and Narcise realized that, despite her efforts to the contrary, Cale had managed to guide her out of the close, warm chamber. Nervousness seized her, and she yanked out of his grip. “Please,” she said, forcing her voice to be sharp and strong instead of desperate. “I must return. Cezar will be searching for me.”
    Cale was looking at her searchingly, his eyes still too close, his mouth near enough that if she turned her head, the pouf of her hair would brush against it. He’d caught up her handin his, drawing her toward him. “Very well,” he replied. “But you must feed. I can see the need in your eyes.”
    Somehow, the rumble of his voice, the low dip of the syllables, was so intimate that a little pang twisted inside her. There was compassion there, compassion and admiration…and anger.
    He made no move to stop her when she tugged free of his grip, noticing for the first time that they were in a dim corridor. A door behind her was ajar, and beyond she could see into the chamber they’d just vacated.
    Heart in her throat, she peered into the hazy, golden room, her fingers on the edge of the door. Even through the filtering smoke, she could see the chair in which Cezar sat, its back facing her, his head barely rising above it. He couldn’t see her from that position, thank Fates, and Narcise noticed the other two figures settled in front of him.
    He did indeed seem to be well-occupied.
    Her