Chapter 4
Toucher
CLAIRE
Iheld my breath, waiting for him to strike like I was about to jump into the frigid, white-capped rapids of the Starfall River.
But instead of feeling his incisors on my neck, I felt like I was floating—drifting in a current, and the only person I wanted to listen to was him.
The wailing of the violins disappeared along with the low conversation of the crowd.
I swallowed a curse. The wretched vampire was in my head again. Without moving my lips, I asked him, “What are you doing?”
Silence.
“Well?” I prompted him.
“Your fear is inhibiting my ability to transform.” Each word sounded like it cost him something. “I need you to relax—to want this—or it won’t work.”
How was I supposed to relax while in such a compromising position? On stage? In front of hundreds of people? Much less want him to bite me.
“I can’t relax. It’s not possible.”
He growled in frustration, and the sound vibrated against my ear, sending unexpected little bolts of pleasure down my spine. “You have to make everything difficult. Don’t you?” he gritted through his teeth. Even his voice in my head sounded exasperated.
“I’m not trying to make things difficult, Your Grace, but this whole thing is unnatural. The people. Your brothers. I’ve never been around so many strangers in my life.”
Why had I given him that truth? I needed to be more careful with my words. Much more careful. The less he knew about me, the better.
There was a pause, and then he said, “Fine. Let’s try something else.”
“Fine.”
I had no idea what I just agreed to. What else could he do to get me to relax?
Bastien expelled a deep breath against my neck, causing a wave of tingling pleasure to roll down my spine.
I had to hold back a gasp. Slowly, he moved his lips to my earlobe, then breathed again.
The smooth line of his mouth grazed the shell of my ear.
I shivered in his arms. Never before had I felt such things.
I hated this man. Was terrified of his bite.
But by Diana, something inside me wanted him this close.
If only to feel his breath against me once again.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I asked.
He hummed against my skin. “Trying to appeal to another one of your instincts.”
Another instinct? Did he mean…?
Oh. Oh.
Before this moment, I’d never so much as spoken to a man outside my family, let alone had one press his lips against my neck.
I’d had crushes on boys from afar, but that’s all they ever were.
I was no good in a marriage alliance with a neighboring coven, despite my mother’s status.
I was told she would never force me on a man of worth because I couldn’t defend myself or my children from dark witchery.
Which meant I rarely left Prideaux Hill because I was too much of a burden to protect when we traveled.
I was often alone, content with tending the ravens and the garden, because I accepted my fate a long time ago.
I was destined to be a spinster. Untouched and undesired by anyone.
But the Duke’s mere breath had awakened something deep inside me I hadn’t known was there.
A desire to be desired. He sighed against my skin again, this time adding a small satisfied sound. My breath stumbled.
“Much better. Your fear is dissipating. Now, if it’s okay, I want to try one more thing.” His words were slow and soft in my head, and I swallowed hard as another hot pulse of heat rolled through me.
I hated myself for letting him make me feel this way, but I needed to seal our pact with a first bite, as much as the act revolted me. This was how I became a spy, proving to my family that I could be useful, even if I didn’t have magick. I had to want him to bite me.
Everyone was watching. Waiting. Wondering what was going on. “Okay. Fine,” I said begrudgingly. “Do whatever you think will help.”
His lips ghosted down my neck like a lover’s might, and I pretended he was someone else.
Someone with a heartbeat. Someone warm and sweet.
When his cold tongue licked a slow trail up my throat, from my collarbone to the choker, my body turned to dough.
Despite the people all around, I’d never felt anything so satisfying.
“Good, very good,” he purred. “Now tell me to bite you.”
“Do it. Bite me.”
His lips closed around my skin, sucking gently, before I felt the pressure of teeth.
My hand flew to the back of his neck, fisting sections of his hair as the bite deepened.
I arched into him. His grip around my waist was like steel.
Yes, there was pain, but there was also…
pleasure. Waves of it rolled through me, starting low in my core and traveling up to my belly button in slow, warm strokes.
However, the tug of desire couldn’t stop me from imagining what he was doing.
Swallowing my blood.
As soon as I remembered that red stain on his lips, the stage spun.
I struggled against the lightheadedness.
I wasn’t strong enough to fight back against my phobia.
A cold sweat broke across my brow, and my grip on his hair loosened.
Wishing I was stronger, I looked toward the crowd, searching for my sister, needing to see Seraphina’s face.
She would tell Mama I’d done what I’d set out to do.
They couldn’t say I was good for nothing. Not anymore.
The last thing I remembered before blackness squeezed out my vision was a blur of lilac hair and the sound of my name.
When I awoke, I was being carried down a set of stairs.
A hand was fitted under my knees, another held a silk cloth against my neck.
My head resting against a chest. Tilting back, I realized Bastien was the one carrying me.
Everything came back in a rush. The dais.
The people. His body against mine. His breath.
His tongue. Shame heated my cheeks. I’d let a vampire lick my neck. Diana, help me.
“Put me down,” I managed to say.
“Gladly,” he answered. “This is the second time you’ve bled on my shirt.”
As if the wealthy vampire was worried about one shirt.
Irritation and shame made me bolder than usual when I snipped back, “Don’t say that word.
” I didn’t want him to inadvertently make me pass out again.
Now that I was in his service, I needed to be a sponge, soaking up every bit of information on the vampire.
“What word?”
I gritted my teeth. “Bled.”
The vampire reached the base of the stairs and turned a corner that led into a long hallway lit with wrought-iron candelabras. The flickering light sent shadows across the art on the walls.
“Why not?”
“Because it makes me sick.”
I tore the silk cloth from his grip and held it against my neck. Temper smarting. Shame twisting like a snake in my gut.
“What do you mean it makes you sick?”
His question was like hitting an old bruise.
I’d explained this to many family members over the years, including the midwives who asked me to help in the birthing beds, the healers who asked me to remove arrows or set wounds, and the huntresses who demanded I skin hares.
I couldn’t do any of it without passing out, humiliated time and time again for being useless in every way imaginable.
“I can’t explain it, but every time I hear that word, I get dizzy.”
Bastien stopped in front of a door and kicked it open. I let out a gasp as he strode inside and kicked it closed. The door hung loose on broken hinges.
Inside, the room was dark, save for the light coming in through the crack in the door.
He lay me down on a velvet settee before striking a match, lighting a candle, and setting it on the small table beside me.
Shadows flickered to life between us. I swallowed hard as he studied my neck.
Then he wrestled the silk cloth from my grip and held firm pressure against his bite mark.
“And what happens if you see it?” he asked. “Do you swoon?”
“Sometimes,” I answered. I noticed a smear of red still staining his chin, and fresh sweat broke out on my forehead.
“You understand this position entails talking about and seeing the very thing that makes you ill?”
I hugged my knees to my chest, putting more space between us. “Does it? I thought I was applying to be your royal dog walker.”
He let out a chuckle that held no humor as he stood and reached for a pitcher sitting on a sideboard. He poured a measure of water into a glass and then offered it to me. “I can’t wait to enjoy a year’s worth of your so-called humor in my castle.”
I took the glass, holding it to my lips. “Are you always this cheerful, or is it just with me?”
I drank deeply despite the pain in my throat. The vampire watched me as I did. He held his answer until the glass was empty.
“What you see is what you get. If you want to back out now, I’ll understand.”
Oh no. He wasn’t getting rid of me that easily.
“I’m not backing out.”
“Of course you aren’t.” He refilled my glass, then glared at me until I took another sip, tracking the movement with his head canted to one side. “Consent is essential to this process, and if the feedings make you ill…”
“I need this job, just like you need me. I can handle it.”
Bastien leaned down so that our noses were mere inches apart. Fear crowded into my senses, but I pushed it back. I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me. “I do not need you. Make no mistake.”
I held his gaze, not giving an inch. He was lying. He did need me. We’d sealed our pact, and now he had no choice but to keep me. He might not like me or trust me, nor I him, but we needed each other. Just for very different reasons.
“Claire!” someone screamed off in the distance.
I sat up straight, my attention turning to the door. No one knew my name except Sera. The muffled sounds of struggle had me on my feet despite the lingering nausea.
“Get your hands off me!” Grunts. “Claire!” the voice screamed again. “Claire! Where are you?”