Death's Mistress (Dorina Basarab, #2)(139)

I closed my eyes for what felt like a brief moment after he left, and when I opened them again it was dark. Moonlight poured through the window onto the bed, tracing LouisCesare’s face with a slender outline of silver. “I guess Claire was right,” I murmured. “I must have been tired.”

“With cause,” he said softly.

“You didn’t have to stay.”

He brushed sweaty hair out of my eyes. “I have left you twice, and each time, you were almost killed.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t leave, then.”

He let his fingers, soft and featherlight, trail over the skin of my face. “I’m not going anywhere. But you need to sleep.”

“Un-uh. You don’t get off that easy.” I didn’t feel like getting up, so I bunched a fist in his pretty blue shirt and pulled him down beside me. His chest made a good pillow, I decided; my eyes were already trying to slip closed.

I forced them back open, because there were a couple of things I wanted to know. I decided to get the big one out of the way first. “Was Christine really your mistress?”

“For a brief time, before the Change. But afterwards . . . even had I been inclined to continue our affair, she hated vampires. She would never have been involved with one of us.”

“Then why tell people that?”

“She required constant supervision and it was not a task I could trust to another. Had she managed to get away, any deaths she caused would have been my fault. I had to keep her constantly with me, and I had to have a believable reason for doing so.”

“So you let everyone think you were just too smitten to let her out of your sight?”

“Essentially. But it backfired when Alejandro decided that kidnapping my beloved mistress would be a perfect way to force me to deal with Tomas.”

“That’s why you were so crazy to get her back. You knew how dangerous she could be.”

“I had no idea how dangerous she could be,” he said drily. “She kept her abilities very well hidden. I was more concerned with the possibility that she would give herself away. Christine was quite lucid much of the time, but at others . . .”

“I saw.” That image of her playing in Anthony’s mutilated chest would stay with me a while. She’d seemed so . . . happy.

“But at Alejandro’s court, eccentricity is the order of the day. Apparently no one noticed. And Alejandro kept her closely confined; he knew that I would be looking for any way to steal her back.”

“But Elyas wasn’t so careful.”

“No. Alejandro transferred Christine to him once he discovered that Tomas was missing, fearing that his threat to kill her might lead me to desperate measures. Elyas agreed to take her, but it seems that his only concession to security was to tell the doorman not to allow her egress! She appeared timid and powerless to him—not someone to worry about. Not someone to fear.”

“Which is one reason she was able to kill so easily. Everyone else thought the same.”

“Fortunately she appears to have concluded that killing single vampires would do little good in her quest to eradicate the breed. And it might lead to her discovery and execution before she could put a larger plan in place. At least, Marlowe can find no reports of mysterious deaths, either here or near Elyas’s estate. We do not know what occurred at Alejandro’s, but I assume it was the same.”

“She was saving it up for one big blowout.”

“It would seem so.”

I rolled over so I could see his face. “Okay, end of the easy questions. What were you doing in my head?”

“Mind speak is part of your legacy, from your vampire half. I assume the wine you have been drinking allowed it to manifest.”

Fey wine—a curse and a blessing, I thought. And then my eyes narrowed. “But how did you know that? I haven’t been mind speaking to you, or to anyone.”

He looked away, and his tongue swept over his lips again. “There may have been a few instances when I picked up . . . thoughts.”

“Thoughts?”

“Feelings, mostly.”

“Good feelings?”

His eyes flicked back to mine, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. “Very good.”

Considering the kind of things I’d been picking up from him, I decided to let it drop. For the moment. “All right. But why tell me all that crap about you and Christine? You let me believe that you two were going to pick up where you left off.”

“How could I do otherwise? You have spent a lifetime killing revenants. How could I tell you that I was harboring one?”

“You were afraid I’d kill her?”

“That, yes. But there was also your reaction. I knew you would be shocked, disgusted, horrified—everything I saw on your face in the tunnels. I did not want you to think less of me and I knew . . .”

“Knew what?”

“That there was no chance for us!” His face was serious, passionate. It made me want to thump him.

“Why? Because Marlowe disapproves and the Senate won’t like it? Personally I think that’s kind of a bonus.”’

He looked at me in disbelief. “I stole from you. I lied to you about Christine. I left you with a madwoman—”

“Twice.”

“You have every right to wish to never see me again!”