Taming the Madam

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Taming the Madam ISBN 9781419915277 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Taming the Madam Copyright © 2008 Anna J. Evans Edited by Briana St. James. Photography and cover art by Les Byerley. Electronic book Publication September 2008 With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

TAMING THE MADAM

Anna J. Evans

Anna J. Evans

Glossary Aphrodisian: A vampire who is a descendant of Aphrodite. They subsist off of humans’ sexual energy instead of blood. Sex with an Aphroditian is addictive. Aresian: A vampire who is a descendant of Ares. These are the strongest of the clans, second only to the “parent” godkin—Zeusians, Hadesians and Poseidonites. Athenian: A vampire who is a descendant of Athena. The most violent of the godkin, these vampires don’t hesitate to take what they want by whatever means necessary. Blood Price Tattoo: Athenian vampires have been known to take unprotected Heliosian vampires as slaves (those who do not have a nest). Because Helosian vampires often lack the strength to overpower Athenians (unless they release the power of plague, which rots them as well as their victims), they must earn their freedom by one hundred years or more of slavery. At the conclusion of their service, they are given a tattoo that shows they have won their freedom and cannot be enslaved again by another Athenian. Godkin: The offspring of the Greek gods; also known as vampires. Hadesian: A vampire who is a descendant of Hades. These vampires have the ability to visit death upon any they touch if they so wish to. They can also become invisible for a brief time, but it requires a tremendous amount of energy to do so. These are the most darkly seductive of the god-kin. Heliosian: A vampire who is a descendant of the sun god Helios. These vampires can go out into the harshest of sunlight, though it does tend to give them a more aged appearance than other vampires. They have the ability to mesmerize with music/song. They may also visit a plague upon others by touching them, though they then become victims themselves.

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Hephaestian: A vampire who is a descendant of Hephaestus. These are the craftsmen of the godkin, creating deadly weaponry as well as exquisite jewelry. They are just as comfortable using the weapons they create. Nest: A tribe/group/clan of vampires

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Prologue The Greek gods were not known for their restraint. They lived large and loud and fucked like bunnies every chance they got. It didn’t matter if it was a human woman, a Muse, a Nymph or a goddess. If she was female, they sent their sticks and berries into the bush. And goddesses were just as randy. There were consequences. Their children—known as godkin—had the same hedonistic appetites as their Olympian parents. And with each succeeding generation, something else became apparent. The descendants of the gods had a price to pay for their immortality—they had to feed on the blood or energy—or both—of other living creatures in order to sustain their own lives. The gods, as gods are wont to do, didn’t concern themselves with these insignificant problems, though from time to time they have popped in to cause mischief for their offspring—godly entertainment, if you will. Other than that, they’ve kept to themselves, eating, drinking and being oh-so-very merry in all sorts of ways. But their descendants—those immortal beings now known as vampires—continue on, some good, some bad, but all… Deliciously naughty.

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Chapter One What were the others going to think? How could she ever show her face to her sisters once they knew what she’d done? There now, you’ll be able to breathe easier. The last strings holding her corset together slipped through their guides. Whalebone and lace fell forward into his hands. The truth comes more easily with a nice, deep breath. She shuddered, her nipples tightening to aching points for reasons that had nothing to do with the chill air, and everything to do with the dark eyes of the man in front of her. Heat pooled in her belly and she fought to keep her breath from growing fast and shallow, from allowing her body to give him any other sign that being his captive drove her mad with lust. Simply mad. Now tell me, what were you looking for? Just hold on, Amelia, she told herself. Don’t tell him anything. He’ll tire of this game and no one will have to know you were so easily caught, so easily tamed. Oh but, gods, they would know. There was no doubt of it. His possession of her— body and soul—would be readily apparent to any sister who took the time to give her a hard look. They would all know that she’d been mastered, and what’s worse…they would know she’d loved every minute of it. Hadn’t they already suspected her weakness? Wasn’t that why she was here in the first place? Tell me, sweet. His large, warm hands were on her again, smoothing up her ribs, stopping just short of her breasts. Her nipples beaded even further, to the point of pain, and the tension spiraling low in her belly grew so fierce she actually whimpered.

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She. Amelia Bouchette. New head of the Sisterhood of the American Frontier, whimpered. She’d never work west of the Mississippi again. Hell, she’d be lucky if she could slink back to Europe, back to that diseased little Paris bordello she’d fled nearly seventy years ago. She’d be ruined, completely and utterly and— Stop hiding from me. Lift your face. Let me see your eyes. Amelia moaned as she obeyed, no longer sure if she were awake or asleep. Every time she met his dark, nearly black gaze, she was immediately beside herself, outside herself, adrift on the promise of pleasure etched on the hard planes of his face. But the drunken, lost feeling was more than worth it. For every time she acquiesced to his commands, he gave her just a bit more of what the weak, twisted part of her soul ached for. Their eyes met and held and her breath slowed to a dead stop. The world spun dizzyingly around her as he deliberately reached out to where she stood—strapped to his wall, arms above her head, legs spread, as completely at his mercy as any man in the grip of a Siren’s song. This time he rewarded her obedience by tugging at the ribbon at the top of her chemise. Breath whooshed into her lungs again as the fabric loosened, and the heated swells of her breasts tumbled out, now bare to the cool air. If he looked down, he’d be able to see how she ached for him. Her nipples stung with the need to be touched. Her body hummed with desire and just the thought that he might brush one of those long, elegant fingers across her puckered, aching flesh was enough to make her tremble and another desperate sound escape her throat. But he didn’t look down, once again giving no sign that her desire was even apparent, let alone of interest. Gods. Damn. Him. He was a bastard and she was going to do more than ruin his business as planned. She was going to wreck his life, reduce him to a quivering, quaking wreck of a man, bring him as low as he’d brought her…as soon as she managed to free herself from his spell. 8

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It had to be some sort of spell. She’d never told anyone how she secretly dreamed of abandoning control, of being as swept away, as powerless as the countless men she’d seduced through the years. There’s no way he could have known, no way— “Mon dieu!” she cried out as he dropped one hand to her breast and flicked a calloused thumb across her tip. The electricity of that one simple touch rocketed through her body with profound effect. Her nipples were at once harder, tighter, screaming for more of anything he would give her. Her belly trembled and the muscles in her thighs clenched, struggling to squeeze together despite the fact that her legs had been secured to the wall a good two feet apart. But surely she could overpower a little iron if it meant it would ease the terrible aching between her legs with the friction of thigh upon thigh. She needed at least that small satisfaction or she would run mad. Her sex was already in a desperate state. Creamy heat flowed down her thighs and the swollen lips of her cunny were plumped and ripe for a man in a way she hadn’t been in more years than she could remember. If only he would touch her there. If only he would lift up her underskirts and slide one—no, two—of those long, thick fingers into her primed channel. She would do anything for him then, absolutely anything. She would lay down her life and— “Who are you? What have you done to me?” She squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to regain control. A better question would be who you are, sweet. She hated—and loved—the way he called her “sweet”, as if she were nothing more than a tasty treat he would enjoy at his leisure. “Amelia,” she whispered, her voice raspy from thirst. She had no idea how long she’d been hanging on the wall, but it had been long enough that the whiskey and tonic she’d had downstairs at his tavern was long gone. She was desperately thirsty, almost as desperate as she was for Jacob Forester’s touch. “Amelia Bouchette. I manage the Maison des Filles.” That much I know. Why don’t you think of a better way to answer my question? 9

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He turned his back on her then, stalking slowly back across the room, treating her to a view of the long, silky black hair he wore tied in a queue at the base of his neck and wide shoulders that tapered down to the most delicious bottom she’d ever seen on a man. She could imagine her hands smoothing over those firm, hard swells, her nails digging into his buttocks as he— Amelia squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out all carnal thoughts. She had to concentrate, to figure a way out of this pickle she’d found herself. She opened her eyes again, determined to look anywhere but at Monsieur Forester’s ass. The room was apparently his office, judging by the large wooden desk in the corner and the grouping of chairs arranged by the fire nearby. But no office she’d ever seen concealed a secret bondage system behind a tapestry on the wall—not even her grandmother’s, and Myrenea was nothing if not…exotic in her tastes. Of course, her grandmother’s palace had been designed thousands of years ago, most likely before the invention of cuffs made of cold metal. But not before the invention of slave and Master. No, that game was as old as the Earth itself, and the Sirens had been playing it nearly that long. In a world where women were often victims, powerless to change their fates, the Sirens were a race unto themselves, Mistresses of seduction who ruled men via the shaft between their legs. There had never been a submissive Siren. The very idea was as ludicrous as an ice-cold sun or a gold nugget too large. That’s it, Amelia. You must remember who you are before you betray your legacy, your basic nature even. Amelia pulled herself up to her full height, struggling to look as dignified as possible while strung up like a side of meat. “I don’t know what you are talking about. I simply came in for a drink. Women are allowed at your establishment, if I am not—” “Don’t lie to me, Amelia.” Every muscle in his body was tense as he came to a stop in front of the roaring fire. And what a body it was, well over six feet tall and possessed of broad shoulders and hard, sculpted muscles that were obvious even before he’d

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taken off his suit coat. She’d fantasized about seeing him naked, spread out on her white silk sheets, from the second their eyes had met across the crowded tavern. Sacre bleu, he was surely more man than even her sisters could handle. Those dark eyes, that handsome face, the body a Greek god would kill for—any one of them would have been enough to make her blood burn, even if he hadn’t also been possessed of that certain je ne sais quoi that had always been her secret weakness. In a world of bullies and frauds, there were very few men who were true Masters. But Jacob Forester was the genuine article. Every movement, every step he took, every word he spoke, even the way he played the piano downstairs told her he was the type of man who had come to control his destiny the hard way—through work, suffering and the stern refusal to succumb to weakness. He was as hard and unyielding as the metal that encircled her wrists and ankles and would surely control her just as firmly. Jacob was a man who would be willing and able to command a woman’s complete submission to his will, to his pleasure, to her pleasure—even if that woman weren’t a woman at all. God, she’d waited so long for a man like that. Why did he have to be this man, the one person in the entire town of Virginia City, Montana, who she needed to be rid of as quickly as possible? “Amelia?” His voice was soft, yet still held a subtle threat that should have made her tremble in fear, but instead made her flesh tingle with wicked anticipation. “I’m not lying. I swear to you.” Her voice was an invitation to punish her any way he deemed fit and there seemed to be nothing she could do to control it. She was being betrayed by her own dark fantasies. After all these years of denying her desires, of putting aside her hunger in order to rise through the ranks of the Siren sisterhood, the temptation was proving too much. “That was the first time I’ve spoken aloud.” He turned back to nail her with another of his soul- and cunny-melting looks.

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“I— I don’t understand,” Amelia stammered, even as her heart began to race. She’d given herself away! And so stupidly. How could she have neglected to realize that those soft, full lips hadn’t actually been moving during their earlier communication? More importantly, how in the world had he spoken directly to her mind? “Neither do I,” he said, stalking slowly back toward her until he was close enough for her to feel his heat warming the front of her body, smell his lightly brandy-scented breath on her lips. “Unless…” Unless what? The thought reached out to him from the front of her mind as she sought to see if this communication could run both ways. Unless we’ve met before. He moved even closer, his nose brushing against hers, his mouth less than an inch from her parted lips. No, you I would most certainly remember. She couldn’t resist a second longer. She let her tongue reach out and flick across the seam of his mouth. His breath hissed out in a sound that betrayed his desire, but Amelia hardly had time to bask in the satisfaction of being wanted before his mouth was on hers, hard and fast. Gods yes. She opened to the thrust of his tongue, accepting his bruising kiss, meeting his ferocity with a fierceness of her own. Their lips, teeth and tongues waged an erotic battle she couldn’t care less if she won, as long as he kept tasting her with that brutal thoroughness that took her breath away. You are sweeter than I had imagined. He followed the thought with a nip at her bottom lip, making her moan. His lips moved to her cheek, his teeth dragging slowly across her jaw before his tongue traced a trail of fire down the sensitive column of her neck. Amelia arched toward him as much as her restraints would allow, the feel of the metal cutting into her sensitive flesh adding to her pleasure in a way she didn’t question. She enjoyed a bit of pain, always had. The only thing better than the stinging of her wrists would be— “Yes!” she cried as the teeth teasing at her neck bit down with enough force to send a shockwave of pain and pleasure shooting straight to her sex. Liquid heat gushed 12

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between her legs, just as something else hot and wet gushed from the wound at her throat. Oh gods no! Her mind realized the truth of what he’d done a second too late. Which is it, Amelia? Yes or no? he asked, though he didn’t cease his gentle sucking at her neck for a moment. A vampire. Dear gods, she’d allowed herself to be chained to a vampire’s wall and his fangs to be sunk deep in her flesh. She thought she’d escaped this kind of danger when she’d fled Europe, put distance between her and the warring sects of bloodthirsty fiends who had made the lives of other supernatural creatures even more difficult with their constant bickering. What’s worse, she had no clue to which godkin sect Jacob Forester might belong. If he were one of the more warlike and territorial tribes, he would think nothing of eliminating his competition by draining her blood dry. Tell me more about those warlike tribes. What do you know of them? Blast! He would be able to read all of her thoughts now that he’d supped upon her essence, not simply those ideas she deliberately intended. She had forgotten that, just as she was quickly forgetting to care. How could she be bothered by something as trivial as her death or the privacy of her mind when his lips and teeth played at her throat, transporting her to the brink of an ecstasy she’d never dreamt possible? He was close enough now that her bare breasts pressed against the starched linen of his shirt. As she squirmed against him, delicious frissons of sensation pulsed from her sensitized tips to her throbbing sex. His strong hands squeezed the fullness at her hips, slowly bunching up the fabric of her skirts until one burning hand found the inside of her thigh. He groaned and shuddered lightly against her as his fingers trailed through the liquid evidence of her body’s hunger. He slid his fingers up and down, up and down, getting closer and closer to those few inches between her legs that had become the focus of her world. 13

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Please, gods, let him touch me there and I will take whatever death you have planned. He groaned again, as if he had heard her prayer—which she supposed he had—and closed the distance to her cunny. Amelia’s head fell back, pressing her neck even closer to the fangs still buried there as his fingers played through her slick and swollen folds. He teased and tormented her flesh, coaxing even more cream from her body before one finger dipped into the well of her heat. By Helios, Amelia, is this all for me? He shoved two fingers into her and fucked her deliciously for a few brutal strokes before withdrawing his hand. I asked you, is that— Yes! You and no other, please… Please? Please what, sweet? Please fuck you with my fingers? Yes, oh gods yes, yes. Amelia arched even more powerfully forward and she felt the skin at her wrists tear, but she didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered as long as he would touch her again. With his fingers, his mouth or with the cock she had felt pulsing—long and hard—against her thigh when he’d brushed against her. Not yet, sweet. I may very well have you, but not yet. His thumb smoothed slowly, deliberately down over her button and stilled there. Then, with a firm pressure, he began to circle the nub, again and again, around and around, sending the tension pulsing within her soaring to levels she’d never known. Soon she was shaking with the intensity of the release building deep down in her very core. “Jacob, please.” She somehow managed to choke out the words, though the bruised flesh at her neck howled in protest. “Please what?” His voice was thick with desire as he slid his teeth from her throat— as if he’d sensed her discomfort and actually cared—and moved his mouth farther down her body. Amelia lost the ability to form or understand language as he sucked one turgid nipple into his mouth, hard and tight, pulling her swollen flesh firmly inside his wet heat before flicking his tongue rapidly over the bud he had captured. She thought she screamed then—at least she heard a woman’s scream echoing off the thick wooden 14

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walls—but she couldn’t say for sure. She was too near the brink to be aware of what sounds were pouring from her parted lips. One of his hands had joined his mouth at her breasts and was pinching her other tip even as his tongue continued its assault of her erotically charged skin. His thumb pressed just a little more firmly against her button and two fingers slid back inside her weeping channel. Amelia bucked into him with an abandon she’d never known. She was so close, so blindingly close, almost, almost— Remember this, sweet. Remember, and when I come to you again, you will have your reward if you please me. And then he pulled away from her—his hands, his mouth, his heat and those furiously pumping fingers that had carried her up, up to dizzying heights of desire. Only to leave her hanging there, twisting in the cold wind as he abandoned her. “Damn you! Bastard!” Amelia sobbed the words at Jacob’s retreating back as hot tears of frustration began to pour down her cheeks. “Isn’t it a little late for that, sweet? If your thoughts tell me true, you know exactly what I am. You already count me among the damned, do you not?” He paused at the door and turned back to survey her with a calm, cool look that hit her like a blow to her heart. Only the tented front of his pants consoled her the slightest bit. He wasn’t as unaffected as he seemed, he couldn’t be, not with an erection fit to burst from the closures of his trousers. “Blood has that effect upon me,” he said, bringing one large hand down to caress himself through his clothes. The sight of his hand on that long, swollen shaft made her tremble with another fierce wave of longing. She wanted that to be her hand on him, her fingers pulling at the fastenings that concealed his hot length from her eyes, from her mouth. “Please me, Amelia, and I will see to your pleasure and my own,” he said, once again reading her thoughts with an accuracy that made bitter tears of shame flow down

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her cheeks. “Displease me and there will be more of the same for you, hours and hours of frustrated desire until you lose your mind there against the wall.” “Va te faire foutre,” Amelia ground out through clenched teeth. “I just might have to do that,” he said with a rakish smile that she felt smooth along her skin like one of his earlier caresses. He ran his hand up and down his engorged cock again in a manner that left no doubt the man understood French. Or perhaps it was simply the tone of her voice that told him exactly what he could do with himself if he thought he was man enough to make her lose her wits merely from denied satisfaction. “The next time I see you, I’ll want the names of those who sent you.” “No one sent me, you fool. I came of my own free will and I will be leaving under it as well,” Amelia said, anger helping banish some of the maddening ache for his touch. “Set me free this instant or I will see to it—” “Do not threaten me, Amelia.” His voice silenced her immediately, despite his low, easy tone. “We both know you are not what you seem and that your business here tonight was far from innocent.” “You name your tavern The Wicked and then fault a woman for her lack of innocence?” A bitter smile twisted on her lips, but his face was once again hard and impassive. “I see the irony of that is lost on you, sir.” “On the contrary, Miss Bouchette, I am greatly appreciative of the irony in our present situation. You came to bully what you assumed was the new, mortal competition in town. Instead, you end this meeting as a butterfly pinned to my wall.” He smiled then, but it wasn’t a warm thing, not by any stretch of Amelia’s vivid imagination. “I will give you some time to think on that, sweet.” And then he was gone, simply there one second and vanished the next. “Damnation,” Amelia swore, letting her head fall back to hit the wall behind her. He was right. This hadn’t ended at all the way she’d planned. “The way they’d planned,” she corrected herself with a grimace.

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Her sisters at the Maison des Filles were the real instigators behind her venture here tonight. They’d demanded she do something about Jacob Forester or they would do something about her. Amelia had only won her place as manager of the supernatural cat house a few months ago, and could lose it just as quickly. Then she’d be forced to return to manipulating men as she’d done for more years than she wanted to remember. She’d been slow to move up the ranks in the sisterhood and a terrible disappointment to her mother and grandmother—both revered Mistresses of their ancient power. If she was demoted for what her sisters deemed a lack of leadership ability, Amelia knew she would never live down the shame, though it was hardly her fault that Virginia City was luring just as many brothel and tavern owners as miners. The Maison had managed to hold its own for the past year through a combination of lovely women and supernatural encouragement. There wasn’t another brothel in town that could boast so many beauties. Sure, the ladies at the Maison did more singing and dancing than servicing, but most men didn’t seem to mind. But since The Wicked opened two weeks’ past, not a Siren in the Maison had been pulling in half her usual payload, even those willing to take their customers up to their rooms for song and dance of a more intimate variety. For some reason, instead of bringing their shiny nuggets to Amelia and her sisters to celebrate their fortune in a pair of soft, willing feminine arms, their usual customers had chosen to plunk down their fortunes to hear Jacob Forester play the piano. The piano. It completely baffled her. Yes, there were courtesans in his employ who Amelia had seen guiding a few men upstairs, but on the whole, the entire lot of sweaty, filthy men had been rooted to their barstools. The entire tavern was riveted to the music created by Jacob Forester’s magic fingers. She’d been shocked at the phenomenon to say the least—gold diggers were usually not known for their keen appreciation of music and the fine arts—but soon she’d been lost to the spell as well.

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In fact, she couldn’t remember exactly how she’d come to leave her own stool and wander up the steps to Jacob’s office. It was as if she’d been hypnotized by the— “Of course!” Amelia thumped her head back into the wall a few more times, punishment for being such a complete fool. Vampires had mesmerizing powers—at least some of them did. For the first time, Amelia wished she’d paid closer attention to her grandmother’s tales of the Greek gods and goddesses and their accursed godkin offspring. Then she might be able to discern which tribe this Jacob belonged to, and maybe even gain a clue to his possible weaknesses. That man—vampire or no—has no weaknesses. Amelia shivered and closed her eyes against the thought. Everyone had a weakness, even men like Jacob. Maybe especially men like Jacob. Something had made him hard, fierce and suspicious. Defenses like his were not inborn. Just as her longing for submission was not inborn. It was bred, from years of acting against her basic nature, from using her power to overcome men’s wills with her sexuality until she had little respect for her clients and even less for herself. She wanted more than forced seductions, she wanted… “He would have me cooperative,” she muttered aloud, the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind. She would give Jacob the names of her sisters if he insisted on naming names. Why not? It wouldn’t put them in danger. She was the one who had agreed to come and to do her best to shut down The Wicked. She would confess all to him and offer herself freely, his to punish as he would see fit. With any luck, his punishment would not only fit her crime—that of intending to use her powers of seduction to rid Virginia City of his presence—but also her fantasies. By daybreak, she might finally know for certain if Mastering was what she truly craved. Surely not even her sisters could fault her for allowing such liberties in order to save their lovely necks. Vampires, no matter which tribe, were gifted with superior 18

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powers to the Sirens. They would be lucky to escape with their lives, let alone be allowed to continue practicing their arts in the booming gold town. If she could somehow manage both… Amelia had always believed there was power in willingly abandoning control. Tonight, she would put her theory to the test. If she were right, she would finally live her most secret, treasured fantasy. If she were wrong…well, there were worse ways to die than the ecstasy of the vampire’s kiss.

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Chapter Two “Father Helios, give me strength,” Jacob muttered to himself as he adjusted the rock-hard length that had made it difficult to walk for a few moments after closing the door to his private rooms. No woman had ever affected him as she had, the fiery little French miss with her dark brown eyes and honey hair. Her mouth was too wide, her lips almost too plush and the curves gracing her petite frame luscious to the point of being lewd. She wasn’t the austere beauty he typically preferred by any means. But she took his breath away, made something deep within him twist with fierce longing. And that was simply from looking at her, seeing her dark eyes flash as she fought the force of his mind within hers. Once he actually gave in to the urge to touch her, to feel the flick of her sharp little tongue against his own… Stop. You must stop before you barge back into that room and ruin what little progress you’ve made. He hadn’t intended for the interrogation to take the path it had. He’d chained her to the wall with the silver restraints simply because many supernatural creatures had difficulty breaking the particular metal. With no idea exactly what she was, he thought it best to err on the side of caution. Neither had he intended to begin removing her clothing, but the look in her eyes, the speeding of her breath, left no doubt how exciting she found it to be at his mercy. Being bound made the already beautiful Amelia transform into a dark goddess of carnal desire. He’d been helpless to resist the unspoken invitation in her eyes, her flushed skin, her tightly beaded nipples and slick wet— Jacob gritted his teeth against his thoughts and strode to the landing overlooking the tavern floor, motioning for Spencer to come to him. The younger vampire 20

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immediately laid down the glass he was shining and slipped out from behind the bar. He had seen Jacob disappear with Amelia and was curious, or Jacob had no doubt his protégé would be much less hasty in answering his summons. Despite the fact that Jacob was as feared a vampire as any of the Heliosian godkin, Spencer seemed to instinctively realize Jacob was all bark and no bite. Well…usually no bite. He’d certainly bitten tonight and loved every minute of it. He’d only intended to steal a quick taste of the woman’s blood, to make certain she wasn’t one of those who had purchased him for her twisted pleasure during his time as an indentured servant. Her ability to hear his thoughts in her mind made him suspicious. Usually only those whose blood he’d drunk would have that ability. His own inability to remember all of those dark days in St. Louis had taught him it was better to be safe than sorry. But once he’d felt her sweet essence flowing down his throat, thickening his cock to the point of pain, he hadn’t been able to stop until well after a mere “tasting”, long after he’d been certain he’d never known the flavor of her before. “What’s happening? Is she a spy? Should I call the—” “No, I don’t think so. The situation is under control for now,” Jacob said, motioning for the other man to lower his voice. The mortals downstairs wouldn’t be able to hear them, but he wasn’t sure about Amelia. Whatever she was, she wasn’t vampire, but there were other supernatural races with hearing nearly as keen. “But I want to close down the bar. Take a turn at the piano and encourage them all to leave.” “Truly?” Spencer looked suitably surprised. Jacob hadn’t let him at an instrument since they arrived in Virginia City, at least not when there were mortals around. The younger vampire had a Heliosian vampire’s natural skill with instruments, but he couldn’t always be trusted to keep his hypnotism at a respectable level. A guitarplaying incident around a campfire several months ago that ended with twenty-five female members of their wagon train skinny-dipping in a nearby swimming hole had made Jacob cautious. 21

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They didn’t need to draw that kind of attention from anyone, mortals or other vampires. Jacob had won his freedom from servitude the old-fashioned way, through hard work, suffering and the accumulation of power until he could claim his own blood price, but Spencer was a runaway. Jacob had met him purely through chance on his last night in St. Louis. He hadn’t been able to resist helping the young man. If someone had done the same for Jacob, he might not have wasted nearly a hundred years as a slave to an Athenian vampire. Heliosian vampires without the protection of a nest or the blood price tattoo that signified they’d won the right to be feared as individuals weren’t any safer in the wilds of America than they had been in Europe. That much was clear by how quickly word had spread of Jacob’s tavern and the dozens of lone, frightened Heliosians who had come to work as barkeeps, cooks, cleaners and courtesans at The Wicked. They craved Jacob’s protection and he was willing to give it. He knew the frustration of being one of them. It was their legacy as the children of the god Helios to be gifted with talents either too whimsical to be taken seriously or too dangerous to ever be used. They could play songs that bent the wills of man but were helpless against their own vampire brethren unless they unleashed the power of plague, a gift that rotted the sender as surely as it damned those caught in its path. Only after years and years of self-discipline and control was Jacob able to accumulate the kind of strength of will that made all men—human or supernatural— give him a wide berth. He was master of his own destiny now and he would be damned if he’d let anyone interfere with the life he and the other Heliosians were building here in Virginia City. Even a woman who aroused a kind of pure, masculine curiosity in him that he hadn’t felt in years. “Are you sure?” Spencer asked, interrupting his thoughts on the sorry fate of what most vampires considered the “weakest” of their species.

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“I’m sure.” What mischief could the kid get up to with a room full of dirty miners? On second thought… “But make sure you send them straight home without urging them to leave their gold behind. Don’t get creative.” “Jacob, if the situation is under control, there’s no reason to shut down. The men are digging deep into their pockets tonight and—” Spencer sucked in a breath and shot Jacob a bright smile in response to the stormy glare that warned tonight wasn’t the night to question him. “Right, I’ll have them out of here in no time. What then, boss?” “You may take the rest of the evening off. Go out, entertain yourself.” Jacob spun to walk away but turned back almost immediately. “But stay away from the Maison des Filles until I figure out exactly what or who we’re dealing with.” “No problem. Easy to stay away tonight. You’ve got the prettiest of them locked away.” Spencer laughed easily to himself as only a vampire not yet out of their first fifty years could dream of doing and turned to make his way down to the piano. Jacob crushed out a flare of temper at the younger Heliosian’s words. Amelia was pretty and she was a courtesan. There was no reason for Spencer to think twice of giving his opinion of her charms or for Jacob himself to feel so fiercely territorial. Miss Bouchette was not his claim, at least not for more than one night. “And one night will have to be enough,” Jacob whispered to himself. The last thing he needed was to be sucked into those liquid eyes that made him ache to take her to his bed and never set her free. He already had a dozen young Heliosian vampires counting on him for protection. They had strength in numbers, but that might not be enough to keep them safe if another vampire sect decided Virginia City should be their territory. Whatever Amelia Bouchette truly was, and whether or not she had come here at the urging of his enemies, he couldn’t afford to make himself vulnerable by forming that type of relationship. And they would have that kind of relationship, he had no doubt. Every look, every sound, every response of her aroused body told him Amelia was as desperate for the kind of bond they could share as he was. It had been so long since 23

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he had been in a place where he could guarantee the safety of a woman in his life, let alone one who ached to let down every wall between them and put herself entirely into his keeping. A part of him screamed at him to take her up on the unspoken offer beneath her bold refusals to answer his questions. Her mouth had told him to go fuck himself. But her eyes had begged him to fuck her, to take her, to claim her, to break through her defenses for the bliss it would give them both when she experienced complete surrender to her passion. Jacob groaned as his cockstand returned with a vengeance. This line of thinking was ridiculous. Even if she were an innocent—which she most certainly was not—he couldn’t offer a woman like Amelia protection any more now than he could twenty years ago. Any day, spies from St. Louis could come to check on the infamous Jacob Forester’s progress and learn he was the one who had helped smuggle the Master’s newest slave out of the city. Only two Heliosian vampires had ever won their blood price tattoo from Ethan Handel, Master of St. Louis. The first had mysteriously disappeared mere days after gaining her freedom and Jacob wasn’t naïve enough to think he’d be allowed to begin anew without interference. Master Handel didn’t enjoy losing those he considered his own. He enjoyed having his “possessions” stolen even less. No matter that Spencer had run of his own free will, Jacob knew how the situation would play out if he were found harboring a fugitive. He’d be forced to confront the Master in battle—a battle he would most likely lose against the much older, more powerful Athenian Vampire. He should be preparing for that battle—for it would come eventually—not contemplating taking on the erotic tutelage of the tempting Amelia. He would head down to the bar, have a drink to wash the intoxicating taste of the vixen from his throat and give her a good hour or two to stew there on the wall. Then and only then would— Spencer chose that moment to begin a popular love song on the piano. Something about “Rosebud and her pinkest cheeks” if the high, sweet voice that chimed in a few

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bars into the melody was correct. It was a ridiculous tune, but that voice…that voice was pure aural ecstasy and more than enough to make him change direction. He turned back toward his office, to where Amelia and her pink lips and pale, pink rosebud nipples were waiting for him. He still had no clue what exactly he was going to do with her, but was unable to resist the urge to see her again. He was as helpless as any human caught in the snare of a Heliosian melody, as any sailor summoned by a Siren’s song.

***** The song was one of her favorites and Amelia found comfort in singing. It was her greatest gift and her birthright as a Siren, no matter that she came from the landwalking lineage. Her sisters of the sea claimed to have superior voices, but to Amelia they were merely…louder. After all, you needed a hardy set of lungs to summon sailors from a great distance. She sang because it was second nature, because it was what she did when she felt lonely or lost or scared. She never expected her song to summon Jacob back to her presence, especially not with that particular look in his eye. “You have a lovely voice,” he said, his own voice strained with what she could only guess was desire. The bulge in his pants certainly hadn’t deflated in the ten or fifteen minutes he’d been gone. “Thank you.” She sang the words along with the melody, testing a new theory. “Now come to me and set me free.” “Is that an order?” he asked, walking slowly toward her with definite heat in his eyes. “Yes, so it be. Now set me free.” Amelia poured every last bit of her power into the new words she sang, willing him to obey her command, wondering why she hadn’t thought to use her power before. Because you thought him out of your reach, beyond your control.

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It was true, she’d assumed no one who could overpower her so easily could be overpowered himself. If he could be taken by a Siren’s song, then he wasn’t the man she’d hoped him to be and not half the vampire either. Her grandmother had warned of the dangers of the cursed race of half-god and half-goddess children, but Myrenea was known to be superstitious. Perhaps the vampires weren’t as powerful as she claimed, though their bite was certainly as addictive as she’d warned. Amelia’s neck still ached from Jacob’s last nibble, but she was already dying to have her flesh pierced by him again, almost as much as her cunny ached to be pierced by something else. Maybe she would go ahead and indulge that need, at least, even if he wasn’t as strong of will as she’d hoped. “Are you hurting?” he asked, close enough now to reach out and touch the torn flesh at her wrists. She wasn’t, but she nodded anyway, continuing to hum along to the tune playing on the piano downstairs as her mind willed him to free her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I promise I’ll heal those wounds and any others I’ve inflicted.” He ran a gentle finger down over the bite mark on her neck, making her shiver. “Simply tell me who sent you and what you intended to accomplish here tonight.” “Set me free, set me free,” she crooned, leaning forward to whisper-sing the words against his tempting lips, secretly delighting in the fact that he wasn’t caving instantly as so many mortal men did in the face of her supernatural persuasion. “I don’t think you really enjoy giving orders, do you, Amelia?” His hands played at her hips now, smoothing over the curves to claim large handfuls of her bottom. Her sex once again throbbed with that deep, insistent aching that demanded she do absolutely anything it took to get her and Jacob Forester naked and horizontal. Or vertical could work as well if he’d free her ankles… “I may not enjoy it, but it is one of my gifts. Now set me free, Jacob. Set me free.” Amelia funneled every last bit of her power into the words she sang, until her head 26

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ached from the strain. If he could resist her now, then he was more man, vampire, what have you, than any she’d met before. “You are a Siren then.” He smiled and pressed an oddly affectionate little kiss on the tip of her nose as his hands pulled at her skirts. “I’d just been thinking a voice like yours could summon men from the sea.” “So are you going to let me go?” Amelia asked, breathless, as his hand smoothed over her newly bared rump, and down to play at the crevice that led between the swells of her ass. “Not a chance of it, sweet. Not until you tell me what I need to know.” His fingers glided smoothly over the puckered, swollen flesh of her anus and on to tease at where she was wetter, hotter than she’d ever been in her life. “Do I need to employ a bit more persuasion?” he asked, tormenting her with a feather-soft circling of desperate flesh at her opening. “Or are you ready to tell me—” “I’ll tell you everything, anything,” Amelia said, unable to keep the smile from her face as she closed the distance between their mouths and stole another of his kisses. Jacob was the real thing, the man she’d been waiting for. Her heart thumped unsteadily in her chest as he returned her kiss. There was a smile on his face as well, judging from the way their teeth pressed together through their lips and a rumble of laughter hummed into her, making her tingle. He seemed pleased. She knew she’d never been this strangely…happy while kissing a man, but Amelia did her best not to analyze either of their feelings too closely. He was glad to have his answers and she was thrilled to anticipate a fantasy fulfilled, nothing more. She couldn’t be developing feelings for a vampire who had taken her prisoner and all but threatened her death. That would be insane, far beyond foolish. No matter what her sisters, mother and grandmother might think, she wasn’t a fool. She didn’t enjoy dominating, using and abusing mortal men. That didn’t mean she wasn’t possessed of a brain.

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She had a very fine brain, thank you very much…a brain that was…quickly turning to absolute mush as Jacob slid a finger into her cunny and coaxed even more cream from her eager body to coat his wickedly skillful hand.

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Chapter Three Amelia swore to him that she had never even met another vampire, let alone been enlisted by one to spy on Jacob and the other Heliosians. She’d come to him at the urging of her sister Sirens and intended to use her powers to convince him to leave town. She was nearly one hundred years old, the daughter of Nicolette and the granddaughter of Myrenea. She’d been born outside Paris, and once she’d become a woman and come into her Siren power, was indentured for service with a bordello owner in Paris whom Jacob gathered hadn’t treated her well. As soon as she was able to amass the funds, she’d immigrated to America where she’d worked first in Boston, then Virginia Territory. She had followed the gold rush west, where she’d hoped it would be easier to rise to Mistress of her own Siren coterie. She had just achieved that goal a few months before Jacob came to town. The success of The Wicked was now threatening her position and she would rather be damned than go back to being a lower sister, in charge of seducing the men assigned to her by her Mistress. Therefore, she was willing to do whatever he asked of her, absolutely whatever it took, to ensure that they came to a mutually beneficial agreement. She wanted to guarantee her sisters’ safety and the chance to continue their business. In exchange, she was willing to offer her body, her skills, her talents and her loyalty into his service in whatever ways he would deem useful. Amelia Nicolette Bouchette became a veritable font of information, giving him everything he asked for and more. Jacob not only believed she was telling the truth, but he had developed a bit of a soft spot in his heart for the woman by the time he’d freed her wrists and ankles and carried her to his bed in the adjoining chamber. How could he not sympathize with a soul who had a story so similar to his own?

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Better question, how could he resist the temptation to demand her performance in his bedroom in exchange for sharing business with the Maison des Filles? It would be uncomplicated, unemotional and he wouldn’t owe her anything but customers—and, of course, the pleasure he would bestow on any lover. It was the perfect arrangement. So why did he feel like a cad as he stripped away her skirts and chemise, baring her delectable body to his gaze? “Gods yes.” She moaned and writhed on the bed beside him as he pulled her wrists to his mouth and trailed his tongue gently over the torn flesh. She’d truly hurt herself earlier by fighting her bonds and it made him feel even worse to see her delicate skin savaged by the silver manacles. He would make sure all signs of their earlier interlude were gone before he let himself think about what further mischief they might engage in this night. “I never knew a kiss at my wrist could feel that good.” She sighed, heat and wonder in her eyes as he showed her the newly mended skin. “Or that a tongue could be so useful.” “I assure you, sweet, my tongue can be put to better uses than that.” Jacob pulled her nude body close to his still fully clothed one and bent to trail his tongue across the wound on her neck before venturing lower with his kisses. A kiss on the delicate bone near her shoulder, a kiss on the swell of each perfect breast, another on her softly rounded stomach where the rapid beating of her heart made her flesh pulse lightly beneath his lips. “Spread your legs for me, Amelia.” She did so with a moan, her hands fisted in his silk sheets, revealing the prettiest little quim he’d ever seen. Pink swollen folds glistened with the evidence of her hunger and honey-colored curls framed her button, already straining eagerly toward him at the top of her sex. So much for being a good boy. There was no hope of that now. He wouldn’t be able to behave himself with the tempting Amelia. He would have to settle with behaving badly…with utmost enthusiasm. 30

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“Jacob!” She called his name with the same fervor the faithful called “halleluiah” at a tent revival as he forced her knees even farther apart and lowered his head between her thighs. He brought his mouth close to her mound, inhaling the sweet, salty scent of her passion, warming her with his breath but not moving in to taste her heat. Instead, he petted her thighs, reached up to roll her beaded nipples lightly between his fingers, traced the seam where her leg became something more delectable, touching her everywhere but where he knew she ached for him. “Please, oh please,” she finally murmured, lifting her hips, trying to close the distance between them. “Lie still for me, sweet, don’t move unless I command it. Can you do that?” Amelia looked down at him, meeting his gaze across the beautiful expanse of her body, and nodded. The solemn look on her face, combined with the spark in her eyes, made another fierce rush of desire surge into Jacob’s already throbbing cock. He’d guessed correctly. She longed to abandon control as much as he longed to take her into his. After nearly a hundred years of forced abstinence from this kind of lovemaking, he prayed he still remembered how to deliver that kind of pleasure. His ability to master his own behavior had grown by leaps and bounds during his years of servitude, but it had been so long since he’d indulged his own desires. Amelia was already tempting him to skip the preliminaries and drive his aching shaft deep into that sweet place between her thighs. Did he still have what it took to deny himself that easy satisfaction, to take the time to torment them both with the elaborate dance of power given and received? “I can do whatever you want, Jacob. Whatever you command.” Her voice shook a bit, but she dropped her hips back to the bed and spread her legs just a bit wider. “Did I tell you to spread wider for me, sweet?”

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“No sir,” she said, the switch from his given name to a more submissive moniker not lost on Jacob—or his aching groin. “Next time there will be a punishment. Do you understand?” Jacob hid his grin at the flash of excitement in her dark eyes by planting a gentle kiss on her thigh. His Amelia definitely enjoyed a little pain with her pleasure. Her response to his bite—sans the mind control that would have taken away the initial sting of pain—had told him that much. He wondered how long it would be until she misbehaved on purpose? Just to see what kind of “punishment” he might inflict? He decided to spare her the frustration. “The punishment will be a real punishment, Amelia, not something you would normally enjoy.” “How do you know what I normally enjoy, sir?” she asked, her slightly sassy tone giving way to a gasp of pleasure as he lifted her knee and delivered a sharp, stinging swat to one of her adorable ass cheeks. “I think I have a fairly good idea.” He smoothed his hand over the red mark he had made. The woman had an ass that begged to be spanked and bitten and kissed. An ass that…he had to stop thinking about if he was going to keep his control. “I think you do too…sir.” She added the last with a small blush, as if she were still uncertain what she was doing. “You can call me sir or you can call me Jacob, whatever feels right, sweet.” Jacob sat back on his heels and began to work the button on his shirt, not missing the way her dark eyes grew darker as he revealed his bare chest. “I’ll never do anything to hurt you. Anytime you wish to stop, just say the word. But make sure you mean it, because once we’ve stopped, we’re done…at least for the evening.” “I don’t want to stop,” Amelia said, visibly fighting to keep from reaching for him to pull him down to her. “You have to know how much I want you, I can’t stop thinking about—” “I’m not reading your thoughts. You’re not a spy. You deserve the privacy of your mind.” He shed his shirt and lowered himself back between her legs, not missing the 32

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assessing look she gave him. Amelia seemed to be reconsidering her opinion of him as a complete scoundrel. Can’t have that. He placed his hands firmly on her soft thighs and finally gave in to the temptation to lick the sweet cunt laid so temptingly bare for him. She moaned as he swiped a trail up from her slick opening to her button, but didn’t arch her hips. He tested her with another swirl against her exposed bud. He teased a trail through the swollen petals of her sex and back to the source of her creamy heat, dipping his tongue inside again and again until the addictive taste tempted him to moan right along with her. “You are perfect,” he murmured against her sex, taking a break from fucking her with his tongue to run his lips softly over her swollen bud. “I think you deserve a reward. I’m going to make you come, Amelia, but there’s a catch.” “Isn’t there always?” Her words were light, but her voice was strained. He looked up to see her delicate features twisted with the force of her control, her eyes squeezing shut. Her nipples jutted proudly into the air atop breasts flushed red with her desire and a light shudder worked its way through her body seemingly against her will. She’d needed this, needed it so badly, and he was going to make sure he delivered to the best of his ability. “You don’t come until I tell you to come. That’s the first. Do you understand?” She nodded. “The second is, you look at me while I’m pleasuring you, meet my eyes when I look at you, hide nothing from me, even when you climax.” She opened her eyes slowly, looking down at him with a mix of excitement and foreboding that made him ache to kiss her. Instead, he flicked his tongue once more across her button, pleased to see her gasp but keep her eyes glued firmly to his. “Third, you don’t make a sound until I give you permission to come.” Her eyes grew a little wider, but she nodded. The last commandment would be the hardest for her to honor, he knew that much even from their brief acquaintance. Amelia 33

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loved to talk, to sing, to gasp and moan, to make audible every feeling within her and he loved that about her, but— Enjoyed that about her. He didn’t love anything or anyone. He’d learned not to risk that kind of feeling a long, long time ago, even before he’d become a slave with no say as to whose bed he would go to or how long he would stay there. Jacob turned his attention back to the beautiful cunt in front of him, determined not to take a trip down memory lane. The paths there led to nothing but darkness, and why dwell in shadows when he could bask in the light of a gorgeous woman’s pleasure? “Good, very good.” He held her gaze as he kissed her thighs, first one and then the other, and then lifted her knees and opened her even wider, spreading her until every inch was bared to his gaze, then set about his work in earnest. He traced every inch of her sex with the lightest pressure, coaxing more slick heat from her cunny, keeping his eyes on hers until the intimacy of the act was too much even for him to bear. If he looked into that sweet face for much longer, he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from rising to kiss her lips, treating her to a taste of her own passion as he thrust into her to the hilt. Thanks to Helios he’d had the sense to keep his pants on. If not, even breaking eye contact wouldn’t have aided him in resisting temptation. If the hot, aching skin of his shaft were rubbing against the silk sheets with no barrier between it and the delicious quim he feasted on, he would have been lost. “So beautiful.” The words escaped his lips without warning as he turned his full attention to the paradise between her legs. His Amelia was decadent in her passion, more responsive even when forced into silence and stillness than any lover he’d known. The delicate folds that surrounded her entry pulsed lightly, gleaming with the strength of her desire. The bud of her sex was plump and ripe and grew dark rose as he teased across it with his tongue, nipped it softly with his teeth. Her breath came fast and the tension in her muscles told how hard she fought to obey his commands, but she didn’t move a muscle, even when he pulled her legs over 34

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his shoulders and gripped her ass in his hands. Jacob lifted her hips off the bed until the angle of her body gave his tongue unimpeded access. He thrust deep inside her wet heat, lapping the cream from her with a moan. She tasted of everything forbidden, an intoxicating mix of honey and spice that made him dig his fingers deep into the soft flesh of her hips. “Gods, Amelia.” He moved his tongue from her channel to her button, kissing her softly before he parted his lips and suckled the bud into his mouth. Her body shivered involuntarily under his hands and a single sob wrenched from her throat, telling him how close she was to the edge. “Don’t come yet, sweet. Not yet. Wait, just a few moments.” He gasped the words against her thighs as he thrust two fingers into her tight passage. Her inner walls gripped him with a power that made him groan as he imagined the bliss of feeling that same fiercely clinging velvet around his cock. He lost some of his own control then and fucked her with his fingers with a rhythm he knew was too hard, too fast, too exactly what his lover needed to shatter apart. But he couldn’t seem to help himself, any more than he could help demanding for her to hold on, to resist finding her pleasure as he flicked his tongue rapidly around and around her bud. Her breath panted in and out of her lips and her body shook and trembled against her will, but she didn’t make a sound or a voluntary movement. Her control was incredible. Even when Jacob raised his eyes to hers, she was still gazing directly into his face, despite the fact that her brow was furrowed and her features fraught. Her expression told him just how much it was costing her to withstand his erotic torture, to hold her body back from the pleasure so easily within its grasp. The beauty of her trust, her willingness to let him command her so completely during a first encounter was humbling enough to draw a sobbing sound from his own chest. And to give her the command he knew she was waiting for. “Come for me, sweet. Come on my mouth. Let me taste you—”

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She gasped as she came, her body clamping down on the fingers he still thrust within her as her hands fisted the sheets. Her eyelashes fluttered and he knew she fought the temptation to close her eyes as the waves of pleasure coursed through her, but she did not give in. Amelia kept her eyes open, meeting his own, revealing herself completely to him, taking him on the journey of bliss right along with her. Tears rolled from her eyes as Jacob softly withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, lapping up the sweet essence that was Amelia. As the pulsing of her walls began to abate, he sped the thrusts of his tongue, hoping to take her over the edge again, but was interrupted by a soft hand on his head. “Please,” she said, her eyes telling him so much more than any words ever could. Her fingers trembled as she pulled the fastening from his hair and ran her fingers through the newly freed length, the tender touch making Jacob’s heart squeeze inside his chest. He surged up to meet her lips with an abandoned sound, only realizing that tears dampened his own face when a droplet hit her cheek a second before he claimed her mouth. Amelia parted her lips and his tongue swept inside, one part of him abandoning himself to her kiss even as another sent up the alarm. You were weeping between the woman’s legs! Dear gods, man, you can’t let this go any further. She’s too much, too exactly what you crave, too— “Jacob,” she whispered into his mouth as her hands pulled at the fastenings of his pants. “Please, can I have you inside me? I’m dying to feel you.” He groaned against her mouth, torn between pulling her hand away and helping her rid him of the last barrier between them with utmost haste. She wanted this, there was no doubt in his mind. This wasn’t simply part of their barter—sex in exchange for sharing business with the Maison des Filles. She was as consumed by the passion that had flared between them as he was. Wasn’t she?

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Even if that was so, and not simply what his mind—and cock—wished to believe, was that a desirable state of affairs? They were so perfectly compatible, combustible, everything he’d thought he’d never find in a lover. How could he let her go? How could he settle for anything less than everything, all of her, even if sending her away was the only way to ensure her safety? It would already be hard, but if he gave in to the temptation to fuck her until they came apart in each others’ arms, there would be no turning back. “Wait,” Jacob breathed, pulling away from her with difficulty. “No, please, Jacob. Come back.” She reached for him, shamelessly spreading her legs, the strength of her desire etched clearly on her face. “I don’t require this.” His voice was tight and he forced his eyes away from where she lay before him. He couldn’t look at her or he’d never be able to do what had to be done. “I will not accept you in my bed as part of the bargain between us. Simply swear your loyalty to my cause. Vow you and your sisters will lend what help you can when I call for your aid and you may leave.” “What? You mean you don’t…” Her words trailed off into silence as he rose from the bed and shrugged his shirt on, hands trembling slightly as he worked the buttons. He had to get her out of here and at least give himself release in his own hand or he was going to lose his resolve. He’d never ached to bed a woman as he ached for Amelia. His frustrated cock practically howled as he turned his back on her, a fierce angry tattoo thrumming through the organ, making him wince. “Do I have your word?” he asked, his tone hard and impatient as he glared at her over his shoulder. “I have already sworn as much and my word is as good as any man’s,” she said, anger creeping into her voice as she moved to sit, curling her legs beneath her. Good, they should get angry and stay angry. Better to be suspicious and distrustful of one another than risk falling into that place where they’d been a few moments past, that realm of complete trust, complete vulnerability that had rocked him to the core. 37

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“Very well. Dress yourself and leave me. The Wicked is closed for the night. I’m sure your sisters’ business will be brisk. They’ll need you to aid them in bedding the—” “I do not bed the men who frequent the Maison. Neither do most of my sisters. As Mistress of the coterie, I do not require my subordinates take any man to their private room unless they wish it. We may not be as powerful as your kind, but a Siren need not make her way by spreading her legs.” “No?” Jacob turned and gave her nude body as impersonal a survey as possible with his emotions still so close to the surface. He wasn’t sure if it would be enough to get his point across in the brutal fashion he hoped, but it was the best he could do. “Bastard!” she hissed, tears shining in her eyes as she scrambled from the bed and gathered her underthings from the floor. Apparently she’d read his feigned disdain for how eagerly she’d bartered her body with crystal clarity. Jacob crossed the room to the basin and splashed water on his face, pretending that hurting her didn’t make him feel wretched. All he wanted to do was treasure her, make love to her, show her how humbled and grateful he was for the way she’d bared herself to him body and soul. “Indeed, I am a bastard,” he said instead. “My mother was a whore in an Athenian bordello. Some wealthy mortal man bought her for a night. I was the result.” “And now you give others like her a place to sell themselves. How wonderful, Jacob. You must feel you have truly made something of yourself.” She was dressed in her skirt and chemise, and turned to stomp into the office where the rest of her clothes still littered the floor. It was a good thing she did. She missed the shocked expression he turned in her direction. She was wrong. He was nothing like the Athenian bastards who had used his mother and eventually himself, hundreds of years later. He didn’t demand the women who worked for him pay him a percentage of their earnings or tell them who to pleasure or how much to charge. He simply gave them a place to stay, a venue to earn 38

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money from mortals where they would be safe from other vampires who would seek to force them into service. But couldn’t you do more? Couldn’t you be better than those who came before you? Jacob followed Amelia into his office in time to see her throwing her dress on without bothering with the corset still unlaced on the floor. Her waist was small enough that the garment still fit, though it was tighter, hugging her curves in a way that made him ache to smooth his hands up and down her body. “I do no harm here. I provide a safe haven for those who have come to me for protection,” he said, unsure who he was trying to convince as he watched her lace up her black boots. “You understand nothing of our world, of what it’s like to be at the bottom of a hierarchy that dates back to the gods themselves.” “I was at the bottom for years, but I never stopped looking forward. And when I became the Mistress of the Maison des Filles, I made sure I did not repeat the sins of those who were once above me.” “If you knew what sins I’d seen, you wouldn’t dare to speak a word against me,” Jacob said, angrier than he could remember being in a very long time. She paused after her boots were laced and stared at him, her eyes meeting his hard glare until he was actually tempted to look away. He, Jacob Forrester, who hadn’t backed down from a battle of wills in more years than he could remember. Finally, she spoke, “There is great strength in you, but there is also great weakness. If I’d known how much, this night would have proceeded very differently.” Her tone and the cold look in those once-trusting eyes were too much for him to take and still hold his tongue. “Perhaps you’re right, but trust me, Amelia—” “I did trust you.” Her soft voice broke as she fetched her reticule from a chair near the fire. “I have enemies, Amelia,” Jacob said, close to confessing everything to her if it would banish the regret he heard in her tone, “powerful enemies who will stop at nothing—” 39

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“We all have enemies, Jacob. Sometimes even those closest to us wish us harm.” “Harm is one thing, forcing a dozen vampires depending on me for protection into service with no pay for a hundred years or more is quite another. I stand to lose my life, but the others will most certainly lose their freedom. I can’t afford distractions.” “Distractions are the only things that make a Siren’s long life bearable. I can’t imagine facing an eternity without them,” she said, looking at him with something akin to pity. “I know you have much to lose. But when fear controls your life, Jacob, you have already lost.” She turned and walked to the door and out of his life without a backward glance. Jacob stared after her for more minutes than he wanted to admit, wondering if he’d ever heard truer words spoken and how, at nearly two hundred years of age, he could still have so very much to learn. A better question would be—how do you plan to use that knowledge? “No, a better question would be, how can I ever hope to win her again when I have proven myself so very unworthy?” Jacob’s voice broke the silence like a single lonely note as he plucked Amelia’s discarded corset from the floor and brought it to his lips, inhaling the scent of what he might never have again.

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Chapter Four The dusty streets were dark and quiet, a state of affairs odd enough to make Amelia hasten her steps along the boardwalk toward the Maison des Filles. It was nearly two in the morning, but the lateness of the hour had never mattered to the miners before. In fact, this was usually the time of night when the drunken carousing hit its peak, when pistols were drawn and whiskey motivated duels fought in the middle of the very street she now walked. But tonight, not a sound, not a single liquored-up miner or whore-sated fur trapper in sight. Not that she would have been able to see much without her enhanced preternatural vision. It was black as her grandmother’s oubliette in Virginia City tonight. The lamps along the main street were out and the windows of the stores and taverns she passed dark and shuttered. Even the moon and the stars themselves seemed to have received a message not to shine. Thick clouds blanketed the sky and the sharp tang of a coming snow filled the air. It was a night for wicked things to roam free, for evil omens to be fulfilled. A night when even immortals such as herself should not walk abroad for fear of being torn to pieces by the garoul. But perhaps this new country wasn’t as densely populated by wolfmen as her native France. Surely she had already faced the most dangerous—and heartless— creature she would see tonight. What were the chances of having an encounter with a cruel coward of a vampire and a werewolf on the same evening? Not good at all, said her rational mind. “Toucher du bois,” Amelia whispered, letting her knuckles rap along the wooden railing as she stepped down from the boardwalk. 41

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Knocking on wood had no real magic as far as she knew, but it made her feel a little better all the same. At least brave enough to hurry across the darkened street, taking the shortcut to the Sirens’ bordello. Still, she didn’t bother to watch her step, to try to avoid the horse and cattle dung that always lay thick on the road. She couldn’t spare the time to protect her skirts. No matter. Even if she were to remain clean, she would have to change immediately upon arriving at the Maison. Her relatively modest clothes were not appropriate work attire, not to mention they reeked of his intoxicating scent. Jacob Forester, damn him. And damn herself for wanting to believe he was all she had imagined. That he was the strong, capable yet tender man he had seemed when he had ravaged her petite fleur with his talented mouth, when his eyes had grown wet afterward, as if he was as moved by the passion they had shared as she herself. She was certain he had felt it. The inexplicable connection, the deep knowing that they were two halves of the same whole, no matter how brief their acquaintance. Never in her long life had she known such freedom, such marrow-deep contentment and joy as in Jacob’s arms. In those moments when he had commanded the pleasure of her body and the control of her very soul, she had dared to dream of a future with the man beyond any business arrangements. No matter the risks an intimate relationship with a vampire held for a creature such as herself. Siren women did not dare leave their coteries. They depended upon each other and no one else. Not the feckless males of their kind, not mortal men and certainly not some wretched vampire, the most feared and reviled of the immortals still walking the earth. She had been taught that the godkin were abominations, impure creatures with a capacity for cruelty unsurpassed even by the garoul she had learned to fear as a little girl. Her grandmother had warned that a wolfman might tear her to shreds, but a vampire would steal her soul, turn her to a thing so wretched she would wish for death. But death would not come easily. 42

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A Siren turned to the darkness gained great power—all the gifts of her vampire mate without the curses that so often accompanied those gifts for the godkin themselves—but that power came with a price. She would be bound to her lover for eternity, never able to be too long from his side for fear of transforming into a feral thing, a creature with an insatiable thirst for blood that knew no moral bounds. If parted from her mate, she would become a ravening beast, a murderer of innocents and children, destined to terrorize mortal creatures until a killer strong enough to destroy her hunted her down and ended her wretched life. Amelia shuddered at the thought and knew she should be glad Jacob had revealed the coldness of his heart so early in their brief acquaintance. Otherwise, the temptation of his arms, his kiss, his strong, sure hands might have been too great to resist. He had awoken something within her, a craving she had never known in her long life. Never before had she been so filled with the desire to lose herself in another, to abandon herself to love as completely as a mortal man lost himself in a Siren’s song. “Amour, the curse of all womankind,” Amelia muttered as she darted down the darkened passage between the smithy and the Mercantile, repeating the words her grandmother had drilled into her head in the years before her indenturing to her first coterie. Love had been the ruin of many a mortal and immortal woman through the chronicles of time. Her own mother had perished from that disease of the soul, wasting away to nothingness when Amelia’s father left her, as all Siren men eventually left their mates. It was not in the nature of the males of their kind to be faithful to one woman for too terribly long. Nicolette had known that as well as any other Siren, but still she allowed her heart to fuse to Amelia’s father’s with such a power that the organ ceased to function properly when abandoned by its other half. Myrenea had told her it was Nicolette’s refusal to sing, to exercise her Siren power, that led to her demise, but Amelia knew better. Though only five years old at the time,

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she could still recall the way her mother had clutched her fist to her heart as she wept for Papa, as if the aching in her chest was too much to be borne. The memory cut through her as sharply as the northern wind through the weave of her shawl, strengthening her resolve. She would not allow herself to meet such an end, no matter how she longed to turn back to The Wicked and force Jacob to see what a horrible mistake he had made, throwing away the chance at something thousands would kill for. Love was simply too dangerous a beast to be played with lightly. She would have to master her own desires, to put away the longing Jacob Forester had awakened and then satisfied so completely. It had been beautiful, abandoning control to her lover, but that abandon was the first step toward ruin. Abandon all too easily led to passion, passion to attachment, and from attachment it was but a brief slide down a slippery slope, straight into love. Words spoken in fear, Amelia. “Fear can be a useful emotion,” she whispered to herself. “It is what keeps the rabbit safe from the fox, the child from fire that will burn tiny fingers.” But when fear controls your life, you have already lost. Weren’t those your very words to the vampire mere moments ago? Damnation. The voice of reason was truly a difficult companion. “Better the vampire’s voice in my head,” she cursed aloud as she emerged from the alley and the Maison des Filles came into view. If it is a vampire’s voice you crave, my lady, I can most certainly oblige. Amelia gasped in surprise, pressing her fingers to her temples as if that might offer some protection from the sudden mental invasion. The voice she had just heard was oily, wicked, slithering through her mind like an unwanted caress. Whomever that voice belonged to, it was not anyone she wanted to meet here on the darkened street. It was time to seek the protection of her sisters, to find safety in numbers. Without pausing to second-guess the impulse, Amelia pulled up her skirts and ran toward the lights of the Maison, the only lights still burning on the oddly dark and silent streets. 44

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Looking back at the moment, Amelia realized that fact should have given her pause, should have warned her she was not running away from danger, but toward. But then it was always easier to see where one has taken a misstep after the fact, when it is too late to alter course, to steer clear of the road leading into the dragon’s den.

***** The utter blackness of the night would have alerted Jacob to Handel’s presence, even if the aura of the man hadn’t been oozing, thick and wicked, through the streets of Virginia City. Ethan Handel could draw down the night, curve it around himself until he disappeared within its dark embrace. Thusly concealed, he had walked the streets of civilizations both old and new, preying on the defenseless mortals sunk deep in their sleep by his magic, taking what he needed to build his empire. The Master of St. Louis was a pestilence set loose upon the mortal and immortal worlds, a creature with an overabundance of power and an utter lack of morality. Jacob sensed Amelia thought all vampires the lowest form of being, but if she knew what a wretched waste of— “Amelia.” Her name burst from his lips, the word as much a prayer as any sound he had ever uttered. He could suddenly feel her pain, knew her fear as if it were his own for a brief moment before the link between them was severed. Handel had found her. It was the only explanation for the abrupt loss of contact. The Master of St. Louis could manipulate the energy of the mind, alter the thoughts of mortals and erect an impenetrable shield around the minds of the immortal. Ethan must have been shielding Amelia’s thoughts from him, but deliberately allowed the barrier to falter so that Jacob might know his woman suffered. And Handel would think her his woman. The other vampire would sense Jacob had recently fed on the beauty, no matter that he had done his best to heal her wounds. The

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thready beating of her pulse and the scent of Jacob’s touch would have remained to betray him, making Handel assume Amelia a thing of value. Ethan was not the sort to equate blood taking with love or even affection, but he knew the blood of a Siren was a more potent fuel than the essence of a mortal. At the very least, Master Handel would assume Amelia was a prized source of power, at the most, a lover or friend. Either would be enough to convince Handel she would be a useful bargaining chip if he wished to bargain. Or her death a fitting punishment if he had come to teach a lesson to others who might disobey his laws. A Siren’s death would not be as easily accomplished as a mortal’s, but Handel would find a way to wring the last breath from Amelia’s body, making her suffer terribly before the end finally came. “No,” Jacob swore aloud before rushing back through the doors of The Wicked. Several of the other Heliosian vampires had left the tavern for the evening, but a good share remained, hopefully enough to make a difference. The Heliosians would not outnumber the Athenians Handel had no doubt brought west with him from St. Louis, but there might at least be a sufficient show of power to convince Handel to come to terms. Even if it came down to offering his own life for the safety of Amelia and the other Heliosians, Jacob knew he would be satisfied with the bargain. Compared to the alternative—the slaughter or enslavement of all those who had depended on him and the death of a woman he cared for more than was reasonable— his own death would be a small price to pay. Most likely too small a price. Master Handel was as greedy as he was heartless, never the sort to accept a fair payment when extortion was an option. “Then I will have to make certain it is not an option,” Jacob said before sending out the mental call to all the Heliosians still within The Wicked’s walls. He could have extended the telepathic summons to cover the entire city, drawing home those who had wandered, but didn’t wish to play his hand too soon. 46

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Better if Handel didn’t suspect he wouldn’t be showing up alone to reclaim Amelia, better to surprise the Athenian with the revelation that Jacob and his people would not quietly bow to the Master’s wishes. The Heliosian faction would meet this invasion into their territory with a show of force, as would any other godkin tribe. Jacob Forester’s Heliosians would no longer cower in the face of those who would bully them into submission or worse, not even if he must pay a price more dear than death. Jacob had only once in his life met a Heliosian who had engaged the power of plague. The man’s skin had been rife with rot, crawling with maggots, and his mind as decayed as his flesh. The putrid stench of the wretch had haunted the younger Jacob for months, making him certain he would never dare use the black power he had inherited as part of his Heliosian birthright. Now, however…he might have no other choice. He would do whatever it took to protect his people and to free Amelia. It was his cowardice that had led to her capture, now he must take whatever risks necessary to ensure her safety. Even if that meant he would never hold her in his arms again. Jacob knew the thought shouldn’t cut him as deeply as it did. He’d only known the woman a few hours, not nearly long enough for any true feelings to develop between them. But somehow, knowing that truth didn’t serve to lessen the ache in his chest, that clenching pain that seemed to be coming from somewhere in the vicinity of his heart.

***** “He will not come for me. There is nothing between us, as I have told you—” Amelia broke off in a cry of pain as the wretched vampire threw his power into her mind. Master Handel, as he called himself, was most certainly a different breed of vampire than Jacob, though if judged with a certain detachment, just as stunning. Handel’s eyes were as blue as Jacob’s were dark, his hair spun gold that hung in waves

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around his shoulders in contrast to Jacob’s straight, silky black locks. But the real differences between the men were not so superficial. Whereas Jacob commanded respect, Handel inspired fear. Whereas Jacob radiated control, Handel’s power sizzled with recklessness and rage. The Master of St. Louis’ energy was neither soft nor seductive, but as sharp as the blade she kept stashed in her boot and twice as deadly. Each time he penetrated her thoughts, an explosion of pain followed, until Amelia was sure her brain bled inside her skull. She would gladly see him dead even if she had not sworn her aid to Jacob’s cause. He was a monster, a heartless creature whose death would be an act of service to the world. And Amelia found she was very eager to serve. In fact, if vampires were susceptible to the Siren song, she would gladly sing the man before her straight into the fire burning in the hearth. “Please, monsieur, please show mercy.” Collette, the newest member of the Virginia City coterie, threw herself at the wicked man’s feet in supplication. “We knew nothing of these vampires. We have not given them aid.” Collette’s arms were tied behind her back, but she had not been secured to a chair as had most of the other Sirens. Her nearly childlike size had likely made the invading vampires dismiss her as a potential threat, a grave mistake on their part. Collette’s song not only had the power to seduce the most stubborn of minds, but a note held at the top of her range could shatter glass…as well as the tiny organs necessary for hearing. If she could get close enough to the leader of this band of villains, she would be able to make him bleed from his ears, and hopefully provide the distraction needed for the rest of the sisters to escape. “She is correct,” Amelia gasped, forcing herself to speak despite the pain still vibrating through her mind. “This very night I did my best to rid our city of the man.” “Our business suffers greatly, monsieur.” Collette inched closer to Handel, tilting tear-filled blue eyes up to his. “We would be only too glad to see Jacob Forester sent to hell.” 48

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Amelia tamped down the flash of despair caused by Collette’s words. She was fairly certain Master Handel couldn’t read her thoughts, but it was better to err on the side of caution. She would not allow herself to think on the bargain she had made with Jacob or of how devastating she would find his death. Her first duty was to her sisters. She must find a way to free them from the invaders’ clutches before she could turn her attention to warning Jacob of his enemy’s arrival. And warn him she must, because they had entered into a bargain, not because of any feelings she had for the man. And most certainly not because the thought of seeing Jacob torn apart by the tyrant in front of her made her blood run cold and her heart ache miserably in her chest. “Is that so?” Handel asked, smiling down at Collette with vague interest. “Then why has your Mistress allowed the man to feed at her throat?” To her credit, Collette did not allow the words to throw her, despite the muffled gasps of surprise sounding from several of the sisters. “Perhaps he attacked her, Master. C’est une petit femme, et—” “Yes, she is a tiny woman, but Forester is not the sort to prey on the weak. He is much too noble for that,” Handel said, somehow managing to make “noble” sound like the worst of insults. “So I must surmise your Mistress willingly offered him her blood, a foolish decision that makes you dear ladies my enemies.” He paused, transferring the utter coldness of his gaze to rest fully upon Amelia before he spoke again. “And you, Mistress, a necessary sacrifice.” “No, please, do not—” Collette tried to stand but was knocked back to the floor, presumably by a mental blow from Handel since no hand was raised against her. “Forester will serve as a lesson to all who would defy Athenian law,” Handel growled, a feral light in his eye that left no doubt to his madness. “He and those he helped escape shall be put to death as well as any foolish enough—”

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Amelia didn’t wait for the monster to finish his speech. If she was to die, she would prefer it to be before she was forced to listen to this pompous ass deliver his soliloquy of terror and revenge. “Chanter, Collette!” Collette leapt from the floor, flinging her arms around Handel’s neck as she sang out a note higher than Amelia had ever heard from the girl, even in the days when the younger Frenchwoman had been in training in the torture chamber of Myrenea’s castle. Handel’s cry of agony was echoed by the other vampires in the room as the other Sirens joined Collette, setting up a truly piercing wail. Amelia took advantage of the distraction of her captors to rock back and forth, tipping her chair over on its side. “Sacre Dieu,” she cursed as the full force of her weight struck the hard wooden floor. It felt as if something in her shoulder had shattered, but thankfully so had the front legs on her chair. She didn’t waste a moment indulging the injury as she kicked away the ropes at her feet and rolled onto her stomach, doing her best to gather her legs beneath her. If she could just get to her feet and find her way to the secret door behind the bar. Even with the chair still on her back, there was a chance she could escape, could warn Jacob and— “We’ve not done with you yet.” The strangled voice belonged to one of the smaller men in Handel’s party, but any hope of overpowering her captor faded as his strong hands closed around her shoulders. He hauled her onto her back, pinning her aching arms beneath her before clamping his hands back around his ears. The brute was obviously in pain, but not so great a distress as to allow his Master’s prize to escape. Still, Amelia would not submit without a proper fight. She opened her mouth to sing but had barely sounded a note before Jacob’s thoughts entered her mind.

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Chapter Five She’d felt him for a moment just after Handel had bound her, but only the shortest awareness, nothing like this. This time, Jacob’s voice soothed her, promising he would do whatever it took to ensure the safety of herself and her sisters, even if it meant his own death. In that flash of connection, Amelia felt his regret for the way things had ended earlier in the evening and a deeper, aching sadness that they would never have a chance to mend the rift between them. He had known this battle would come and that it might mean his life, but he had not thought he would so fiercely long to stay among the living, never guessed he would meet the woman meant to be his mate only hours before going to judgment before the Fates. You’ve taken my heart, sweet. Call me a madman, but it is the truth. If you are mad, it is a catching insanity, it seems. Amelia felt tears prick at her eyes as she looked around the room, searching for Jacob’s location. He must be nearby. If not, she would not be able to hear him so clearly, even after he had taken her blood. Then…you could have loved me, given this cowardly fool another chance? The sadness in his voice cut through her chest, but not with the pain of regret. No, it was the bright sting of hope that filled her lungs, fueling the note that burst from her lips. They might still claim victory over the invading vampires and another chance for themselves. If Jacob’s tribe owned a dangerous power, their mating would enable her to wield it against their enemies. Perhaps that extra show of force would be enough to— No, the power of the Heliosians is to woo with song, much like the Siren. The other gift bestowed upon the descendants of Helios is too horrible to be employed. The effects upon the user of the gift are— 51

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But I am neither human nor vampire. I am Siren. Our kind gains the gifts of a vampire mate without negative effect. At least not the negative effects of the vampires themselves, Amelia added to herself. Being bound for all eternity to a man who might or might not decide his love for her was a passing fancy was certainly an undesirable— Never. I have never had a fancy, passing or otherwise. Jacob’s voice vibrated along every nerve ending, caressing her with the surety of his words. I will always wish you to be by my side, in my bed— Bound to your wall when the occasion calls for it? She could see him now. Up in the rafters of the Maison, he and several of his followers picked their way along the exposed beams like large, graceful cats. Amelia… She felt his shudder of desire as if it were her own. You truly are all I could wish for in a mate. Then come claim me. She let out another long note, letting Jacob know she and the others would do their best to keep the Master and his men writhing in pain. But you must find your way to me. Quickly! And be sure to have something crimson to smear across my lips. Amelia, are you certain? I swear to you, nothing would give me greater— I have never been more certain of anything in my life. Now hurry, man. If we are to accomplish the deed, we must be swift. Handel had finally succeeded in thrusting Collette from his neck and was stumbling toward Amelia, as if he sensed the connection between her and Jacob. Amelia took another deep breath and once again let her song join the cacophony of her sisters, praying that Jacob would reach her before his former Master. By the look in Handel’s eyes, he was not feeling merciful or inclined to encourage the course of true love. Especially a love that would give Amelia the power to rot the wicked creature’s flesh from his bones. The mental image Jacob had sent her of the Heliosians’ second power, the touch of the plague, was truly horrific. The visions of putrification and pestilence would have 52

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likely made her retch at any other time. But at the moment, looking into the wicked blue eyes of Master Handel as he fought his way toward her, the knowledge she would soon be able to rot the flesh from his bones made her smile. And when Jacob and the Heliosians leapt from the ceiling, their war cries echoing through the Maison de Filles, she actually laughed. Master Handel looked so terribly surprised. Imagine what he would look like when he was sent to face the Fates, his wicked flesh rotted from his bones…

***** Jacob allowed Spencer to engage Handel, not only because it was imperative that Jacob reach Amelia but because the younger vamp would hear of nothing else. He knew his flight from St. Louis had given Handel the excuse he needed to invade the new Heliosian territory and was willing to give his life fighting the man, even if he only gained the other Heliosians a few extra minutes of freedom from Handel’s mental attacks. The Siren song had succeeded in distracting Handel and his men. But one by one the women were losing the ability to sing, no doubt due to Handel’s invasions into their minds. The man had the power to render a human deaf and dumb for the rest of their sorry lives with his incursions into their thoughts. Hopefully the Sirens, as immortals, would have the ability to withstand more damage or regenerate themselves, but Jacob couldn’t be certain. He had to get to where Amelia lay, had to— Jacob! Behind you! Jacob found the panic in his future mate’s mental cry exhilarating. She truly cared for him, was possessed by the same madness that had made him ache to tear apart with his bare hands any who would harm her. Jacob! Behind— I hear you, sweet. Jacob bent low to the ground as he reeled about, slashing at the knees of the Athenian behind him with his Bowie knife.

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The other vampire howled in pain and fell to the wooden planks. Red gushed onto the floor as the blow he would have delivered to Jacob’s head went wild. The Athenians always attacked above the shoulders, most likely due to their preoccupation with their mind powers. They never took the time to learn to fight effectively, so certain of their ability to ravage the thoughts of their victims. Unfortunately for them, Jacob was no longer a victim, the power he had amassed in order to earn his blood price tattoo ensuring his immunity to all but the strongest of Athena’s descendants. Fascinating, my love, but there is hardly time for musing on the battle skills of the enemy. Hurry, Handel has been delayed by your young one, but soon— Shall you be this exacting when we are mated? Jacob asked with a smile as he lifted his wrist to his mouth and tore a place in the flesh with his teeth. Only when you are in need of a firm hand, my love. She had called him “her love”, not once, but twice! Never had he dreamed those words would give him such profound pleasure or that the thought of committing himself to one woman for the rest of his long life such peace. Then I shall do my best to keep my head about me. He knelt beside her and pressed his wrist to her full lips. As she began to suckle his blood, he caught and held her gaze, wishing they had more time, that they could have savored this moment. He had certainly never imagined he would change his life mate whilst in the middle of a barroom brawl. He was far from a romantic, but there had certainly been silk sheets and candlelight involved in his passing fancies of this moment. And there was no doubt he would have preferred to be buried deep in Amelia’s sweet quim as she tasted his essence for the first time, to feel her inner walls milking his cock of seed as she— Mon dieu, how can you manage it? she asked, her eyes wide as she pulled away from his wrist, blood painting her lips crimson.

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Manage what, sweet? Jacob said, smoothing a hand through her honey hair as he helped her roll to one side and began working at the bonds that tied her hands to the broken chair. Make me ache with lust while our people are still in such danger? Jacob’s cock twitched in his breeches in celebration of Amelia’s words. If her transformation began quickly and the Athenians were convinced to leave before she called down the power of the plague, they could conceivably be in bed together, sating their lust, within the hour. An excellent idea, my— Jacob! Handel has—Amelia’s voice in his head broke off as a cry of agony burst from her lips. Jacob had time to observe the furious knit of her brow and the tears rolling from behind her closed eyes before hands closed on his shoulders and hauled him backward. “There will be no transformation. The woman will be dead before her blood can turn,” Handel growled, his voice rough and thick. Blood ran from his ears and a wound at his chest, but neither seemed to be sapping his power. Or his speed. Before Jacob could regain his feet, Handel had turned back to Amelia, lifted his leg and crushed his foot down upon her chest. Amelia’s hands, which Jacob had just managed to free before he was pulled away, flew to Handel’s boot, but could do no more than clutch feebly at his heel. The change hadn’t yet begun and a Siren possessed strength only slightly superior to that of the average human woman. Amelia simply didn’t have the power to keep Handel’s weight from descending upon her chest, from squeezing the life from her heart. “No!” Jacob screamed as he launched himself at Handel, ignoring the mental attack the Athenian flung at him as they rolled to the floor. The two men tumbled onto the wooden planks, but not before Jacob saw the dark red blood flowing from Amelia’s mouth and her deep brown eyes wide and sightless in her lovely face. His beloved was dead, her life stolen as easily as an insect’s beneath Handel’s boot. 55

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Now it is your turn, Forester. Handel poured the full strength of his mind into Jacob’s, damaging the delicate tissue inside his skull, making his vision run red as veins burst behind his eyes. The pain was unlike anything he had felt before, as if he were being carved apart like a goose at Christmas, but Jacob somehow found the strength and focus to raise his knife. Handel might very well kill him, but Jacob would not be going to his judgment alone. He would take Handel alongside him, pull him down to the blackest depths of Hades for daring to kill an innocent, a woman with a soul as lovely as her physical form, the woman Jacob had failed so miserably it made the core of his being cry out in agony. For Amelia! He screamed her name in his mind, again and again, as he plunged the knife down into Handel’s chest. The Athenian fought him, wild and fierce, but Jacob paid no attention to the dizziness in his head or the weakening of his muscles as Handel’s power destroyed portions of his mind necessary for the functioning of his body. He thought only of avenging Amelia, the mate he had lost all too soon after having found her, the only woman who had ever called him “her love” and somehow made him believe it. My love. Jacob swore he heard her spirit whispering those sweet words through his mind one last time as the red behind his eyes bled to black and he was sucked down into the depths of something more sinister than sleep.

***** Amelia’s mind crept toward wakefulness with a caution that was unlike her. Usually she was up and about her room within seconds of rousing from sleep, eager to begin the day. Or the night, as was more often the case. A Siren coterie saw more business in the evening hours, when men’s minds were more easily turned to wine, women and song.

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She and her sisters often slept until the sun began to set, though they were not forced to haunt the night like many other immortal creatures. Such as the garoul or the godkin…the vampires…The thought made her shiver and a part of her crave the oblivion of sleep. But it was too late for any further respite from reality. The events of the night before came rushing back with a cruel vengeance. The Athenian vampires’ invasion of Virginia City, Handel’s threats, Jacob and the way he had tried to claim her as his own, only for their mating to fail as Handel stomped her life from her body while she lay helpless on the floor. Then…the blackness, the feeling of floating, lost in the ether until…his voice, Jacob’s spirit calling to her…summoning her back to the physical realm, back to fight for their love and their people. And then the rest of it, things too terrible for her to want to remember. Somehow, as she had awoken on the ground, her own blood hot and wet on her chest, she’d known exactly what to do, how to summon the unholy power that had taken the lives of Handel and a great number of his men. The sounds of their screaming still rung in her ears and the sight of flesh crawling with worms and disease played behind her closed eyes, a drama of such grotesqueness her lids flew open on a gasp. Dear gods, she had never been so relieved to see the peach and brown fabric of her canopy, to smell the lilac sachette she placed in her drawers to combat the smell of Virginia City’s dusty streets. “She awakes,” came a soft voice from beside her. His voice, she knew at once, though he still sounded weak. “How are you, love?” She rolled over under the sheets, finding the warmth of Jacob’s body, running her hands along his bare skin. Even that simple contact was enough to make her chest tighten and tears sting at the backs of her eyes. She’d come so close to losing him, so close to never knowing what it was like to share her bed, her heart, her life with this man who had touched her in ways that were hardly rational. 57

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“The heart is not rational.” He sucked in a breath as her hand played down over the hard, flat plane of his stomach. “Or so I have heard tell.” “Heard tell? Then you have not experienced this phenomenon firsthand?” “You know I have, sweet. By Helios, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” He brushed one hand across her cheek as the other arm wrapped around her waist. “You have no idea how grateful I am to look into your eyes this morning.” “Afternoon by the fall of the light. We’ve slept the day away…though I suppose that is a necessity for the godkin?” It was astounding how little she knew about Jacob, his kind in general and his tribe in particular. But then it was equally astounding how little she cared. She knew she loved him with all her heart, the rest would come in time. “The children of Helios are spared that particular curse. We may venture out in the brightest of the sun’s rays.” Jacob pulled her even closer. “Though we often prefer to walk the darkness. Night can be so much more…interesting than the day.” “I agree,” she said, sighing as Jacob’s hand stole to her breast, cupping her flesh as though it was the greatest of all treasures, “though I will admit I am pleased you will be able to accompany me out into the light. I do enjoy a picnic when the weather is fine.” “I will accompany you everywhere, dear lady.” His thumb brushed across her nipple, sending desire surging through her body. “By the end of the week, there will be no doubt you belong to me and I to you.” Amelia smiled and snuggled closer, pressing kisses to Jacob’s shoulder as he continued toying idly with her breast until he made her squirm. Determined to return the favor, Amelia let her fingers venture lower. Even after the healing powers of the Heliosian vampires had restored them the night before, they had been too exhausted for anything other than a quick sponge bath and a stumble into bed. But perhaps now… She laughed softly as she found his hard length with her hand. Yes, definitely now. “Ten minutes past if I were able to turn back time,” Jacob whispered against her lips before he crushed them with his own. His tongue found entrance to her mouth even as he rolled on top of her, blanketing her with his heat, covering her with the hard 58

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contours of his body. His large hands found her wrists, encircling the delicate bones as he pressed her arms to the pillows above her. Instantly, the feeling of profound safety she had felt the first time he had taken her to his bed consumed her. The feel of his strength restraining her, holding her captive, liberated some long-caged part of her soul just as his command of her body, his demand that she bend her will to his, made her dizzy with passion. And it was not only his seemingly instinctive knowledge of what her body craved in the bedroom that humbled her. She had been delighted to find that instinct extended beyond the walls of the boudoir, that her mate respected her position as Mistress of her coterie and a woman with her own mind. Amelia knew she would never be treated as a possession or an object, no matter how completely she gave herself over to the Mastering she craved at Jacob’s hands. His love for her was too great a thing for him to cheapen it in such a fashion. “You see deep down to the truth of me. I knew it the moment you walked out of my office, having so rightly named me a coward.” Jacob mumbled the words at her throat as he kissed and bit, teasing her with the feel of his teeth raking gently across her flesh. “We are a perfect fit, sweet.” “Yes, we are.” Amelia’s sigh turned to a moan of pleasure as Jacob’s mouth moved lower, capturing her tightening nipples in his wet heat. First one and then the other fell prey to his tongue, his teeth, even as the hands at her wrists worked a bit of magic with the bunting at the head of her bed. Oh dear… A tug or two revealed there would be no freeing herself from the expert knots Jacob had tied. She was, once again, his captive. As Jacob smiled wickedly and kissed the tip of her nose, Amelia knew there was no place on earth she’d rather be.

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Chapter Six Jacob turned his attention back to his Amelia’s beautiful breasts, those lovely swells tipped by swirls of peach that turned rosy beneath his touch. He circled first one and then the other with featherlight flicks of his tongue, teasing her tightened tips until she moaned and arched her back, seeking to intensify their contact. She tugged at her bonds and writhed beneath him, clearly craving a rougher hand than he wished to give her…just yet. But this time Jacob didn’t chastise her or command she lie still, he simply moved his mouth away, waiting until she forced her body to the bed before he resumed his attentions. Once she was settled back on the silken sheets, he scattered even softer kisses at the hollow of her throat, over the swells of each breast, deliberately avoiding the erotically sensitized flesh of her nipples until she moaned. “You seek to torture me then?” Her breath came faster and the fire in her eyes left no doubt she was finding their interlude far from torturous, but Jacob knew when to play along. Concealing his smile with another kiss upon the quivering flesh of her stomach, Jacob brought his hands to capture her breasts. “Perhaps. If torture is what you crave, sweet.” She gasped as he caught each of her nipples in his fingers, squeezing and pinching, ravaging the sensitive skin with his hands even as his mouth continued to make sweet, soft love to her navel, the curve of her belly, the knobs of each of her hip bones. He had never thought the bones of the hip particularly sensual, but licking and nibbling at Amelia’s made him mad with desire. Everything about her, from the curls on her head to the arch at the bottom of her tiny foot, set him aflame, arousing a need so fierce his cock ached terribly with the force 60

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of it. It was a kind of torture, indeed, but one he relished enduring as greatly as inflicting. “Gods, please,” Amelia cried out, her thighs churning beneath him as he rolled her nipples between tight fingers with more and more pressure, until the sweet sting of pain had his love near the edge. Linking to her mind, Jacob could feel how close she was to finding her pleasure, how each nerve in her body sizzled, how the bud between her legs throbbed. She would require only the slightest touch, the barest brush of a finger across that nub to send her shattering apart, hot cream rushing from the swollen petals of her quim. Not yet, sweet. Not yet. Jacob pulled in a shaking breath, forcing his hands away from her breasts. A part of him wanted nothing more than to keep tugging and pulling and twisting until Amelia climaxed, then drop his mouth between her legs and lap the slick heat from her sex. But the purist within him demanded he delay her pleasure, postpone her satisfaction for the greater bliss it would give her in a few moments’ time. Yes, Jacob, my love. She stilled beneath him, though her breath still panted swiftly in and out of her parted lips, causing her breasts to rise and fall in a way that enchanted him. He could attend simply to that one part of his beautiful girl for hours, but Jacob knew it was time to transfer his torment. “Onto your belly, sweet.” His own breath was far from controlled as Jacob guided Amelia onto her stomach, twisting the bunting he had used for her bonds until she was settled comfortably. He found one of the pillows they had flung from the bed during the night and placed it beneath her hips, lifting her ass into the air until she was completely exposed to him. Then he settled himself back on the bed between her spread legs and simply…looked at her, taking in the treasure he had found. Amelia’s pink cunt glistened with her excitement, each fold swollen and spread apart from the others, giving him a clear view of her entrance. Gods, how he ached to be inside her, to be 61

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fisted in that slick velvet, gripping her full hips in his hands as he claimed his mate with all the passion he felt in his heart. His cock twitched fitfully against the sheets, protesting his sloth as Jacob brought his hands to cup Amelia’s buttocks and his fingers spread her nether lips even wider. No matter how he burned to take her, to fuck his woman until the memory of every other man was banished from her mind and body, it wasn’t something he wanted to rush. This first time between them was something to savor, to draw out in the way he hadn’t been able to prolong their mate claiming. “Jacob, please, I feel so…oh…gods.” Amelia’s words became a gasp and then a series of tiny moans as Jacob fucked her with his fingers, then his thumb, his tongue teasing the bud beneath until her channel tightened in prelude to release. He played her as if they had been lovers for years, until Amelia forgot to worry that he had arranged her body in such a lewd fashion. Who cared that all her most secret places were on display when Jacob was between her legs? Gods, each touch was more perfect than the last, until Amelia felt the tension building in her womb reach the critical point. She was going to come, shatter on his mouth, her spirit spiraling out of her body the way it had the first time they— “No! You wicked man.” Amelia moaned as Jacob pulled his mouth and skilled hands away just before she tumbled off the edge. “Fil de bast!” “So I am not merely a bastard, but a packsaddle son? One conceived without the dignity of a bed. Such language, Amelia.” Then the bastard had the gall to laugh at her, his hot breath puffing across where her sex lay, aching, slick and frustrated, only inches from his mouth. A part of Amelia was enraged that he tormented her so, but the greater part of her was…absolutely delighted. After all, what fun would it be if he gave her the pleasure she craved too easily, if he didn’t demand her obedience first? Or perhaps even punish her disobedience. Hadn’t she been fully intending to climax before her Master gave her 62

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express leave? Was that the proper behavior for a woman such as herself when in bed with a man such as her new husband? A brief image of her fantasy “punishment” flitted through her head, making her blush. “The thoughts of a masochist,” she muttered under her breath. The thoughts of a true submissive, the desires of my perfect mate. Jacob’s voice in her mind was a sexual act in itself, a sweet invasion that laid her even more bare than his command of her body. Do you think you should be punished? Was your intention to find your pleasure without your Master’s permission? I think…it is for you to decide. Amelia shuddered as Jacob’s palms smoothed softly across her ass. But I did intend to come, I most certainly— “Oh!” she cried out as his hand descended sharply on her ass, the crack of flesh on flesh filling the room. Again and again he spanked her, tormenting first one cheek and then the other until she began to sob softly into her pillow. Though it wasn’t pain that drove her to tears. The sting of Jacob’s hand was immediate and sharp, but not enough to cause her to weep. No, it was the slow burn of the disciplined flesh and the greater fire it inspired between her legs that drove her to the edge of madness. Her cunny ached as it had never ached before, her center weeping tears of its own down her thighs as blood rushed to her pelvis, plumping her clit, making her channel contract around its own emptiness. “Please, Jacob!” Amelia cried out, sending Jacob a mental vision of what she must have from him, what she had to feel in the next few moments or surely perish of frustrated desire. “Gods, Amelia…you will be my undoing.” Jacob’s hands ceased their punishment and came to grip her hips, fingers digging into her flesh with a strength that hurt the perfect little bit. Yes! The blunt head of his cock was suddenly at her opening, nudging into the slick heat, forcing its way through the tight entrance to her body. Amelia fisted her hands in 63

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the bunting that bound her, dizzy from the rush of emotion and excitement. Jacob was nearly there, nearly buried deep inside her, where she so desperately needed him to be. Then he would fuck her, ram all of that long, thick need into her cunny, again and again until they both shattered apart. She could hardly wait, was so aflutter that it took several moments for her to realize that…he wasn’t moving any deeper. “Jacob, oh please…please, fuck your cunny.” “Is it mine?” he asked, nearly as breathless as she herself. At least he was not unaffected, that was a comfort. Though the fact that he was as wild to take her as she was to be taken, yet still had the discipline to control himself, was not at all soothing. No, it only drove her to a more frantic place, until she struggled to buck back against him, to force Jacob’s cock into her pulsing center. “Still yourself.” “Please, Jacob—” “Now, Amelia, or I will leave you alone in this bed to learn a true lesson. And it will not be one as pleasurable as we both found the last.” The firm note in his voice made her certain he would do just as he threatened. With much effort, she forced her body still and her mouth closed. For some reason, it was not as easy to submit to him as it had been their first time together. It was as if a part of her fought the urge, wanting to remind her how he had failed her at the end of that interlude, been so cruel when all she wanted was— “I was only trying to protect you, to be unkind enough to force you away from me and the danger in my life. But no matter my motive, it would be understandable if it took time to rebuild your trust in me, sweet.” Jacob’s words were as soft as the kisses he pressed first to her shoulder, then her neck, then her lips as she turned toward him, craving another taste of this addictive man. He suckled her tongue deep inside his mouth, until the root ached in the most pleasurable way. I would not blame you for it.

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It is only the cowardly part of myself, Jacob. Amelia sent the thought to him as she nibbled at his bottom lip, knowing it was the truth the second the words left her mind. She didn’t truly doubt Jacob, not with the part of her heart that was wise enough to know better. It is the foolish part that fears what we have done, that worries you will come to regret— What we have done is the only thing that could have saved our people. He pulled away, taking a breath as he opened his eyes, staring deeply into her. “And the only thing that could have saved my own wretched life. I was but half a man before I met you, Amelia. My only regret is that I betrayed your trust once. But I swear to you, on my own life, on the lives of my people, that I will never do so again.” There were tears in her eyes again as she arched her hips, taking his cock just the slightest bit farther into her body. I believe you. That easily? Nothing is ever so easy with the female of the species. There was humor in his tone, but Amelia sensed the concern beneath it, the fear that he might never have the trust he so desperately craved. “You must remember, sir, I am not of your species.” Amelia tossed her hair over her shoulders, turning as much as her bonds allowed to peek over her shoulder. Her heart leapt and her quim gushed anew as she saw him, her lover, her mate, poised behind her, his hands at her hips, his body prepared to penetrate her, to make her his own. The sight was so inspiring, she couldn’t help but sing her next words. “Now fuck me, Sir. Take what is yours.” By Helios… And then he was taking her. His hips surged forward, his cock shoving so deep inside her Amelia wasn’t sure she would be able to take all of him. But take him she did, again and again, the head of his arousal slamming against the end of her channel, bruising her, giving her just the hint of pain that made her pleasure the most complete she had ever known. His engorged sac made contact with her bud at the end of each thrust, once again making her dizzy with excitement as Jacob opened

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his mind to her, letting her feel how the sensation affected him, how the bliss of being in her body was more than he had dreamed possible. That the love he felt for her was more than he’d dreamed possible. It was that last thought that sent her soaring to the breaking point, so close to release that her muscles trembled uncontrollably. Gods, Jacob! Can I— Yes, gods, yes! Come for me, Amelia. Jacob’s rhythm increased, until he was battering her, fucking her so fiercely Amelia gasped at the end of each thrust. Gasped and then screamed out her satisfaction, her cries echoing through the room as her inner walls gripped Jacob, grasping at his cock as if her quim would never let it go. Waves of pleasure so intense they were nearly painful swept through her, head to toe and back again. Fierce clutches of bliss radiated from her center to every part of her body until it seemed her fingertips were coming, the flesh of her lips achieving orgasm. The release kept coming and coming, in seemingly unending spirals of pure pleasure. Her cunny dripped liquid down her thighs and her nub throbbed with what it tried to protest was abuse, but still Amelia came, her body helpless to withstand the demands of Jacob’s cock inside her, his fingers between her legs or the thumb he gently pressed into her ass. Amelia sucked in a breath as his thumb penetrated her with the same relentless speed and depth as his cock ravaged her puss, but didn’t think to protest the new invasion. Her body was Jacob’s to do with as he wished, every inch of it, every hidden, secret place his to explore. He was her Master in this realm, the only one in control once they were behind closed doors. The realization thrilled her soul so profoundly, her cunny began to spasm once again. But this time, the double fullness of her quim and her ass made the sensations even more intense, so much so that Amelia feared for a moment she might actually break into pieces as a result of so much pleasure. I will never break you, sweet. My sweet, beautiful Amelia.

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I know it, my love. Amelia knew she had more to express, but she was soon transported to a place beyond words, where only the pleasure Jacob gave her remained, punctuated by the feel of his skin against hers, his hands trailing over her body. Jacob took her to the pinnacle three, four, five times, until finally his pounding rhythm faltered. Amelia! He called her name again with his mind, even as his mouth let out a sound that was half shout, half growl and all satisfied male. His hips jerked forward one last time and then he was spilling his seed within her, the hot streams coating her insides, completing her pleasure in a way no man’s satisfaction had ever done. In the past, she had been happy to satisfy her lovers, but never felt their pleasure was so intrinsic to her own, that she would weep if the man spending himself inside her didn’t feel his soul wrung from his body in the same way as her own. “I will hear no talk of other men,” Jacob panted, his breath hot on her shoulder. He had collapsed on top of her, allowing his full weight to press her into the feather mattress in a way she found indescribably delightful. “I wasn’t talking, I was thinking.” Amelia smiled and turned to press a soft kiss to Jacob’s cheek. “Sassing me already, are we?” He claimed her lips, his tongue delving into her mouth with slow, sultry strokes as he worked her wrists free of her bonds. “Remember, dearest, just because I am too spent to discipline you now doesn’t mean I won’t remember your need for punishment later.” “Of course, Master Jacob.” Amelia sighed with contentment, rolling over so that she might wrap her arms around her mate’s neck and pull him down for another kiss. I understand, but have a feeling I will require quite a bit of discipline. He smiled against her lips. I had the same thought as well, wife. I think we should adjourn to my chambers tonight to begin as soon as possible.

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The images he sent to her mind, of tiny metal clamps that he would attach to her nipples, of the special bench he would tie her to for her next spanking, made Amelia dizzy yet again. This time with anticipation. “Let us arise and dress and make our way there now,” she said, shoving at his chest and succeeding in reaching the edge of the bed before he pulled her back to the mattress. “Get back here, woman. We have business to attend to before pleasure.” They wrestled for a moment or two, Amelia struggling halfheartedly as Jacob fought to pin her down. “We must speak to our people, make certain they understand the terms of our alliance and—” “There is time for a quick trip to The Wicked first.” Amelia giggled as Jacob succeeded in rolling her beneath him and pinning her wrists to the pillows above her once more. “By Helios, you will need more training than I first supposed.” The glint in his dark eyes left no doubt how much he would enjoy said training. “Perhaps you are right and we should get started right away.” “Yes…right away.” Amelia sighed as Jacob nudged her thighs apart and worked his newly recovered cock between her legs. As he slid home, filling her to perfection, she was once again encompassed by that feeling of safety, peace and something else too wondrous to be called merely love. Though love is a good place to begin. He kissed her as he spoke the words, then began to move slowly, deeply, rolling into her body with a tenderness that broke her heart and mended it all at once. They made love this time, slow and sweet, until they found their pleasure together. Amelia’s cries as she climaxed became a tune that filled the small room, a promise that her Siren song was now for one man alone. For Jacob, for eternity.

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About the Author Anna J. Evans came back to her true love of writing fiction after working Off-offoff-Broadway and in a few Hollywood C-movies. She quit the biz to become a stay at home Mom-Writer and she’s loving every minute of it! Anna lives in Arkansas with her Air Force husband, her real-life romantic hero, their three kids and all the stories still making their way from her imagination to the page. Anna has been awarded multiple Recommended Reads for her paranormal and fantasy erotic adventures, but her favorite feedback always comes from fans. So feel free to

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