Read Online Prince of Twilight by MAGGIE SHAYNE - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: MAGGIE SHAYNE
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Heâd felt her there. Why she hadnât come into full control, he didnât know. It might be that she was too weak after somuch time. Or it might be that she was waiting, listening, trying to learn the same things he was. Who had the ring and how to obtain it.
He could visit her as often as he liked. He could make love to them both, Tempest and Elisabeta, if only in dreams.
Was it wrong to visit Tempestâs body this way? Probably. But it wasnât against her willâhe knew her will, could sense it in her mind. But the will to make love to a vampire in her dreams might not be the same as it would be in her waking state.
Did he give a damn if what he was doing was right or not? Gods knew heâd done worse things in the centuries heâd been alive. And if this was the only way he could have her, so be it.
He knew he would returnânight after night if he could manage it. He was like an addict craving a drug, and having found a font of it, endless and undefended, he couldnât do less than take his fill.
Especially being fully aware just how little time remained. Four days. Four short nights until the Red Star of Destiny eclipsed Venus. And then they would both die.
Beyond the physical pleasure he would give, and eventually receive, as wellâyes, why the hell not? Beyond those things, he would be able to keep himself fully apprised of Tempestâs progress and her interactions with the Athena group.
He returned to the bedroom, leaned over her and whispered in her ear, âRemember me only as a dream, Tempest. Remember and know you will dream of me again. From now on, beautiful Tempest, your nights, and your will, belong to me.â
âDonât go,â she whispered. âDonât leave me again.â
He leaned closer, pressed his mouth to hers, kissed her softly, deeply, and wished for more. And more. He had to leave. He had to find a victim, feed on hot, rich blood, before his will failed him and he took hers instead.
That would make him vulnerable to her. It would strengthen the already powerful bond and create a weakness in him. One that might make him falter in the things he needed to do.
And he could not falter. He had to move forward with his plan or all would be lost.
4
S tormy felt warm all over. She rolled onto her side to hug her pillow to her with a deep contented sigh and felt a smile tug at her lips. And then she came fully awake and the smile died. The sigh died. The warmth turned to a chill that shivered from her toes to her throat, where it caught and lodged.
Vlad had been there.
She sat up in the bed, scanning the darkness of the room around her. The balcony doors were closed, their curtains still, blocking out the night beyond them. She saw no one lurking in the shadows. The luminous red eyes of the digital clock beside the bed read 4:15. There were no other eyes glowing at her from the corners. She reached out, groping for the lamp just to be sure, found the switch after a couple of false starts, and turned it on.
Light flooded the bedroom. She saw no one. Butshe felt them: eyes on her, watching her. The sensation was so real, she spun around to look behind her, but no one was there. Even so, it felt as if someone was standing right behind her, breathing down her neck.
Shivering, hugging herself, she moved across the room to the French doors of the balcony and tested them. Locked. Swallowing the dryness in her throat, she went to the closet and closed her hand around the cool brass doorknob. She stiffened her spine and jerked it open.
But no one was lurking inside. Sighing in relief, she turned and moved to the bathroom, reaching in first to flip on the light, then scanning the room. Sheâd left the shower curtain open, but she glanced behind it anyway.
Nothing.
She left the bathroom light on when she retreated to the bedroom, though it was a stupid, childish thing to do. Dropping to her knees beside the bed, she gripped a handful of
He could visit her as often as he liked. He could make love to them both, Tempest and Elisabeta, if only in dreams.
Was it wrong to visit Tempestâs body this way? Probably. But it wasnât against her willâhe knew her will, could sense it in her mind. But the will to make love to a vampire in her dreams might not be the same as it would be in her waking state.
Did he give a damn if what he was doing was right or not? Gods knew heâd done worse things in the centuries heâd been alive. And if this was the only way he could have her, so be it.
He knew he would returnânight after night if he could manage it. He was like an addict craving a drug, and having found a font of it, endless and undefended, he couldnât do less than take his fill.
Especially being fully aware just how little time remained. Four days. Four short nights until the Red Star of Destiny eclipsed Venus. And then they would both die.
Beyond the physical pleasure he would give, and eventually receive, as wellâyes, why the hell not? Beyond those things, he would be able to keep himself fully apprised of Tempestâs progress and her interactions with the Athena group.
He returned to the bedroom, leaned over her and whispered in her ear, âRemember me only as a dream, Tempest. Remember and know you will dream of me again. From now on, beautiful Tempest, your nights, and your will, belong to me.â
âDonât go,â she whispered. âDonât leave me again.â
He leaned closer, pressed his mouth to hers, kissed her softly, deeply, and wished for more. And more. He had to leave. He had to find a victim, feed on hot, rich blood, before his will failed him and he took hers instead.
That would make him vulnerable to her. It would strengthen the already powerful bond and create a weakness in him. One that might make him falter in the things he needed to do.
And he could not falter. He had to move forward with his plan or all would be lost.
4
S tormy felt warm all over. She rolled onto her side to hug her pillow to her with a deep contented sigh and felt a smile tug at her lips. And then she came fully awake and the smile died. The sigh died. The warmth turned to a chill that shivered from her toes to her throat, where it caught and lodged.
Vlad had been there.
She sat up in the bed, scanning the darkness of the room around her. The balcony doors were closed, their curtains still, blocking out the night beyond them. She saw no one lurking in the shadows. The luminous red eyes of the digital clock beside the bed read 4:15. There were no other eyes glowing at her from the corners. She reached out, groping for the lamp just to be sure, found the switch after a couple of false starts, and turned it on.
Light flooded the bedroom. She saw no one. Butshe felt them: eyes on her, watching her. The sensation was so real, she spun around to look behind her, but no one was there. Even so, it felt as if someone was standing right behind her, breathing down her neck.
Shivering, hugging herself, she moved across the room to the French doors of the balcony and tested them. Locked. Swallowing the dryness in her throat, she went to the closet and closed her hand around the cool brass doorknob. She stiffened her spine and jerked it open.
But no one was lurking inside. Sighing in relief, she turned and moved to the bathroom, reaching in first to flip on the light, then scanning the room. Sheâd left the shower curtain open, but she glanced behind it anyway.
Nothing.
She left the bathroom light on when she retreated to the bedroom, though it was a stupid, childish thing to do. Dropping to her knees beside the bed, she gripped a handful of
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