Flesh And Blood: House of Comarre: Book Two (House of Comarre 2) Painter, Kristen (historical books to read txt) 📖

them had cared for her when she’d been injured. Both of them had joined her in battle and fought beside her. Protected her. And both of them had kissed her.

She bent her head and rested it on the glass. Her breath fogged the pane as she exhaled.

For a woman who had known only order, chastity, and servitude for the last one hundred fifteen years, having these two men in her life was a great deal to take in.

Almost too much.

She sighed, raised her head, and startled. A dark, familiar form leaned against the balcony railing. Her robe lay discarded across the bed, but she opened the door anyway, bracing herself for more complaints about Creek.

Mal’s jaw tensed as his gaze traveled from the thin straps of her white silk nightgown to the tips of her clear polished toes.

‘Can I help you?’ She crossed her arms, hiding her breasts as his gaze returned to her face.

‘I see the resting is going well.’ Mal punctuated his question with a half smile. ‘Tired of being in bed or haven’t you been there yet?’

She gave him a little smile in return. This was the Mal she liked most. ‘I rested on the couch, but Velimai has taken to mothering me. I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I came up here. If she knew I wasn’t in bed … ’

‘She’s right. Bed is exactly where you need to be.’ The silver in his eyes added layers of meaning to his words.

She laughed to cover the surge of heat that must be coloring her skin and tried to make light of what he’d said. ‘Did I just hear you side with the wysper? Suddenly up is down and black is white.’

He shook his head, grinning. His teeth gleamed feral and hungry. She swallowed and her hand strayed to her throat. ‘Go ahead, make fun. I can take it. I have broad shoulders.’

Yes, he did. Among other things. Holy mother, that smile might be her undoing. Just the sight of his fangs revved her heart. Which he undoubtedly heard. ‘Why can’t we be this way with each other all the time?’

He went still. The smile vanished and his eyes focused on the balcony’s tile flooring. ‘You realize you’re asking that of someone who hasn’t had substantial human contact in over fifty years. Before that, well, we both know how my contact with humans ended up. I’ve never been a people person. Even when I was human.’

She sensed they were approaching rare ground. She had to tread carefully or the conversation would be over before it started. ‘Is it that hard? To connect with people?’

‘It is when your idea of connecting means sucking the life out of them. I’m never going to be normal. Even by vampire standards. Whatever that means.’ He pushed off the balcony and walked toward her. ‘I just came to check on you before I leave. I had an idea.’ He shoved his hand through his hair and turned away, inches from the invisible barrier her lack of invitation put between them. ‘On second thought, never mind. I should go.’

Dawn was an hour away. He had time. ‘Tell me the idea.’

He stayed facing away long enough that she assumed he wasn’t going to share. At last he turned back. ‘I know you’re hurting. Nothos poison isn’t something to mess around with. If you gave me some of your blood and I kissed you, it would give you a little extra healing power. It would help.’

A delicious shiver went through her. She refused to acknowledge what that meant, because she certainly couldn’t deny how it made her feel. Nor could she deny how much she wanted what he was proposing. She struggled to keep those emotions off her face. ‘Yes, it would.’

‘Just a little blood,’ he qualified. ‘I know you don’t have much to spare after what you must have lost from the injury.’

She gave him a little smirk. ‘I’m comarré. Blood production isn’t something I have trouble with. I’ll be right back.’

Leaving the door open, she slipped into the bedroom, put on her robe, then went through to the sitting room and took a glass from the morning kitchen. When she returned, Mal was back against the rail.

She walked out into the night air and eased onto the all-weather couch, mindful of her injury. The balmy air almost made her thin robe too warm, but somehow two layers of silk seemed better than one between her and the vampire who switched gravity off every time he touched her. She put the glass on the coffee table and held her wrist over the goblet’s mouth. Mal turned away and planted his hands on the carved marble railing.

‘I don’t mind,’ she said softly. She almost wanted him to watch.

‘I do.’

She nodded, knowing he couldn’t see her. She flicked the blade out of her ring and pierced her vein. The pain was brief. As the first trickle of blood filled the glass, Mal groaned. The scent must be overwhelming. Or maybe it was the knowledge that he was about to partake of her blood.

At the sound of stone cracking, he yanked his hands off the railing and crossed his arms over his chest. It would be a lie to say her power over him didn’t hold a certain appeal, but that seemed such a base emotion, she didn’t want to own it.

Glass filled, she pressed her thumb to the small wound and held her wrist up. ‘I’m done.’

Mal flashed to her side a second later, eyes silver, face fully vampire, fangs extended. There was no cajoling to get him to drink, no arguing on his part. Without delay, he lifted the glass and drained it, then set it down and settled back against the cushions as the blood visibly worked its power through him.

His eyes closed, but his mouth hung open like he was panting. Soon, he was, his chest rising and falling as his lungs expanded. His muscles tightened, and he shuddered, jaw clenched with what