 
Handmaid

Raven Corinn Carluk

RCC Tales

Las Vegas MMXII

Smashwords Edition

Books by Raven Corinn Carluk

All Hallows Blood

Saint Valentine's Clash

Midsummer's Unveiling

Deadlands

stories with bite o,.,o

stories with fang o,.,o

Visit her at

Raven.YouAreAnnoying.Us

RavenCorinnCarluk.Blogspot.Com

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person,

please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to

Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2012 by Raven Corinn Carluk

All rights reserved

Designed by Raven Corinn Carluk

Contents

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

Author's Note

Chapter 1

Tayla brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face, rocking with the creaking carriage, eyes skimming the badly typeset page before her. The lowering sun peeped through the glass of the window, deepening the shadows clinging to the corners of the enclosed space.

She sighed, having reread the same passage three times without remembering it. She let the book fall from her hands, and it slid from her lap and to the floor. Tayla's legs were stretched across to the other bench, where her traveling companion sat humming to herself, embroidering a border along the younger woman's new cloak. Sighing again, Tayla slumped to her side, letting her head rest against the vibrating wall of the carriage.

Her companion quirked one eyebrow, keeping her eyes on her needlework, and smiled softly. "Is this new novel so very boring?" Her voice was softly accented, and it barely rose above the churning noise of the wheels.

Tayla traced the outline of a flower embroidered on the upholstery beneath her face, and she pouted delicately. "It is not that the novel is very boring; it is that I cannot concentrate upon it. Every page reminds me of where this carriage bears us." Tayla glanced at her companion with light green eyes, and her voice dropped near to a whisper. "I do not want to be married, Meghan."

The older woman set her embroidery aside and looked full at Tayla, her green eyes darker than a shadowed forest. She was in her mid-twenties, with the mark of her rough childhood lingering at the corners of her eyes. Her strawberry blond hair was braided tightly, draped over one plump shoulder. A smile graced Meghan's mouth as she spoke again.

"And are these the words of your novel? Has some poor back alley writer convinced you that you should remain single, that you should avoid your duties?"

Tayla frowned and sat up, tossing her long mahogany hair back over her shoulder. She glanced at her manicured nails, then spoke with a low and petulant voice. "These words have no influence over my thoughts, Meghan. You should know that I am not so easily swayed. And yet their declarations of love and passion remind me of how very old the king we are going to is. What love and passion can there be with someone older than my own father? What warmth will I feel in his bed?

"Instead, I would like to choose my own husband. I would like to be able to find someone who will make me happy, who will keep me company throughout the rest of my life. Is that so very much to ask for?"

Meghan looked out the window with a bemused expression. Tayla followed her gaze outside, watching the forested countryside pass by them, the setting sun gilding the trees' crowns. A moment of sadness crossed the girl's heart, and she bit her lip, digging her nails into her palms. The entirety of her young life had been troubled with moments of depression, and she refused to give into it during this conversation.

The older woman's eyes were hard when she looked back. "You are a princess, my lady. It is not for you to choose your husband. You are a representative of King Handern's power, and that means you must follow your duty before your heart.

"I have served you since you were barely four years old, and never once have I seen you shirk your duties. You have never before railed against what your father has commanded you to do. Of his four daughters, you are the best behaved. Just because you are the youngest does not mean that you are of no political importance to the king.

"Seeing as your father cannot let you choose your own betrothed, he must weigh the needs of the kingdom against your heart. All of your other sisters have fine husbands, kings of the surrounding countryside, and they have brought much power to the throne. Even if he relented, and did not use the marriage to consolidate his hold on the northern mountains, he would still have to find you an appropriate match. He would never allow some low born man to have your hand, and he would not want some loafer living off his coffers. So he must constantly be on the lookout for a proper man."

Meghan smiled slightly, lessening the sting of her words. "Besides, even if he did something as old fashioned as hold a tourney for your hand, it is no guarantee that you would find love. It is not always the most handsome or the most intelligent who wins."

A single tear slid down Tayla's cheek as the princess glared out the window. She knew everything her handmaid said was true. She knew with her mind that her father must be ever vigilant for his kingdom, but her heart could not accept that. "What is the point of dreaming of love coming to claim me, if it is never meant to be?" Her voice quavered with suppressed emotions, and the princess's eyes began to sting with unshed tears.

Meghan changed seats, gathering Tayla into her arms with a gentle sigh. The young woman settled into the grasp, continuing to stifle the tears, burying herself against Meghan's ample bosom. Her nails were cutting crescents into her palms, near to drawing blood, and yet the pain did not stop the sadness. As she let Meghan's warmth soak into her, Tayla began wringing her hands nervously, soothing the deep marks.

The handmaid stroked her ward's arm, rocking them gently, kissing the top of her head. "Tayla, my beloved princess, it cannot possibly be that bad. Dreams are simply that. They are made up of wist and moonlight, and all manners of untouchable things. They may try to show us what our hearts are feeling, but they cannot show us the truth. Forget these dreams, my lady, for they will only cause you hurt."

They rode in silence for several minutes, tears sliding slowly from behind Tayla's closed eyes. _I have had these dreams for years, ever since I can recall. Always so lost and alone, always the same handsome devil to take me away, to take me home. Even when the scenery is different, it all comes back to someone taking me away._

Three days we have been in this carriage, stopping at all these various inns. I cannot deny I have enjoyed the adventure of it all. So many different sights and peoples and flavors. I wish that I could stay like this for a while longer, that I did not have to end by the side of an elderly king.

"Why is it that Father did not send us as a regular envoy? Why must we travel in secret?"

Meghan hugged Tayla closer, twining a long curl of the young woman's hair through her fingers. "When King Tolsen interred his wife, he made it very clear that he was seeking another woman to sire his heirs. Immediately every woman at his court would have been vying for his favor, flaunting themselves before him. Your father wants to make your arrival as quiet as possible so those women, and their supporters, do not have time to sabotage you, do not have any means with which to stop you from being presented to King Tolsen."

"But why do we hide as caravan owners?" Tayla sat up, turning her back to the wall of the carriage, bringing her booted feet onto the seat with her, wrapping her arms around her knees. _If I continue to develop anymore, I will soon have too much breast to bring my knees under my chin. I suppose it is time for me to be married, considering I am no longer a child._

Meghan turned as well, her body longer than Tayla's by several inches, her hips wide and plump, her breasts heavy and full. The handmaid was a visibly healthy woman, her body lush in all the right places, her cheeks flushed with life, her dark green eyes constantly alight with a hidden laughter. She was protective of Tayla, and had done her best to keep the princess out of trouble and away from the darker intrigues of the court.

Lacing her fingers around a single drawn-up knee, the handmaid leaned her head back against the paneled wall, the dying light a dark gold against her skin. "Caravan trains have some of the best private guards available in this region. If your father sent a regiment of his own guards, they would be noticed immediately. It would be entirely too obvious who we were, even in disguises. This way we can travel discreetly, and the guards around us will become _part_ of our disguise. They will help us blend in, and they will get us safely into King Tolsen's lands. We will have high class accommodations without drawing attention to ourselves, we will be surrounded by men paid to die to protect us, and no one will question us if we keep to ourselves. Short of being able to magic ourselves straight into his throne room, this is the best way for us to travel."

The princess frowned slightly. "I almost wish we were to be stopped by the other court ladies."

Meghan narrowed her eyes as she looked at her ward. "Is it really so repugnant to you?"

Her voice quavered again as she looked away from the piercing gaze of her handmaid. "I do not want to marry some old man. I do not want to have to lay with his sagging skin, or bear him more children."

Meghan chuckled slightly. "You could always marry his infant son, I suppose. Then you would only have to wait until he was at his majority to consummate the marriage."

Tayla sighed softly. _Why is it that I know none of these kings, none of these lands around me, if I am to be used as a political pawn. Would it not be better that I was knowledgeable, able to advise my king of ongoings, to support him, to be able to negotiate in his name? Then again, Father keeps Mother out of everything he does._ "If he has an heir, why does he need more? Why does such an old man not already have a dozen heirs? Should he not have grandheirs at this point?"

The wheels clattered over a stretch of rocks, preventing further speech for a moment. Meghan tugged at a wrinkle in her skirt while the darkness cast by the sunset began to consume them. "Tolsen was a warrior in his youth. His kingdom, like your father's, was made of contested lands until he laid claim to them. He fought off those who would divide his land, who would take his throne, and those who would refuse to submit to the laws he established. He had no time to raise a family. His first wife was a delicate young noble woman, and she could not survive the birth. Which is why we are traveling to him, to be one of the many young princesses trying to join his throne."

"Why him?" Tayla asked, her voice a near petulant whine. She swallowed hard, and forced her voice to a normal tone. "What is so important about his kingdom?"

"Well, just as your father's power controls all the passes out of the northern mountains, creating a single path of trade, so too does King Tolsen control the sea ports along this coastline. So savage is the western coast that only the very foolhardy try to land anywhere outside of Tolsen's capital. If your father could get a claim on both the overland routes and the sea routes, the money would be endless. It would take no time at all for your father to have an empire."

Tayla sighed, laying her cheek upon her knee, staring at the last streaks of sunlight upon the autumn sky, a wall of clouds catching the rays and flaming with reds and golds. "And how is my father to lay claim to the port if Tolsen rules? Would it not be better to have me marry the son then?"

Meghan moved closer, and laid a soft kiss on the hands of the princess. "Worry not about these things, my princess. The most important thing is for us to arrive there and have Tolsen choose you. Once you have his eye, then the betrothal contracts can begin. Your father and King Tolsen will work out all those important details. Just concentrate on being your very charming best." Laying another kiss on Tayla's fingers, Meghan moved back across the carriage, bundling up her needlework.

Tayla turned her gaze from the window, burying her face in her skirts. Tears burnt hot beneath her lids again, and she bit the inside of her lip to keep them from falling. _It is not fair. No one thinks of me as anything but a game piece. They all think I am some little bit of precious gem they can trade for whatever they want. Meghan encourages me to accept it. My father sends me off without even asking if I want to be a child bride. My mother cannot even say goodbye to me, so caught up is she in her little distractions. Is there no one in this world who cares about me for me?_

Tayla sat up, drawing a deep breath, forcing her spine straight, and quelling her emotions. _No, that is not fair. I cannot blame others for my destiny. I was born a princess, and there are certain things a princess must do. First and foremost is a duty to my father and his kingdom. It is my duty to make him proud, to bring glory to his power. Moping and stomping my feet and crying like a spoiled little baby is not the way a princess acts._

She looked out the window, the sun winking at her as it sank behind the hills and forests. Tayla took a trembling breath, her exhalation pushing out all her bad feelings. She forced away memories of her lifelong recurring dreams, and focused only upon doing her father proud.

The driver's voice cut through her thoughts, causing her to jump as it echoed through the brass tube in the corner of the small cabin. "If ye missus look out yer windows, ye can see th' hostel. Looks like most of th' oth'r drivers already be here. Hoping we haven't missed dinner."

Meghan ran a hand over her hair in the dark, sitting up straight on the bench, her eyes glittering in the dusk. Tayla ran a hand through her own hair, straighten her curls, admiring the weight of her tresses settling down her back. Her stomach roiled, and she swallowed hard, heart suddenly in her throat. _We are joining with the other caravans. Six days of travel west will bring us to King Tolsen's palace._ The young woman bit her lip. _Six days until I have to do my duty and win a betrothal._

Tayla's heart stumbled, as if a hand were clasping around it. She felt trapped, felt the inexorable tug of destiny, and she wanted to run away. She wanted to flee, to hide back under her covers.

Meghan's voice broke her free from her reaction. "Do you remember what we agreed upon before we set out?"

Tayla nodded slowly. "We are sisters from the northern kingdom of Lerne, scouting out a new possible route for our father's caravans. He normally sells ebony and semi-precious gems, but has recently purchased the rights to several textile groups, thus has a surplus of goods to move. If anyone asks, he is looking for other ways across the mountains, while we work on the more established routes."

"Very good," Meghan said, closing the clasp on her silk valise, her embroidery safely returned. It was already too dark to see anymore within the carriage's compartment, but the sky was still lit with the dying colors of the day. Tayla could see torches and fires through the glass as they approached the permanent caravan camp. "And if anyone asks about your name being the same as the princess?"

"It is a common enough name north of the mountains, and that is the truth. Nothing unusual about a young woman named Tayla."

The carriage came to a jolting halt, and Tayla heard voices approaching. Her stomach roiled with nervousness again, and her hands were trembling. Meghan reached out for her, and the princess more felt than saw the handmaid smiling. "There are times it is a good thing your father is so protective of you girls. Keeps your looks from being so publicly known." Without a further word, Meghan swung open the carriage door to the crowd gathered by their side. Tayla could do nothing but follow her "sister" out of safety and into her destiny.

Stepping down from the carriage was similar to stepping from shadow into a blistering hot day. Torches flared in the evening breeze, and even by the carriage she was amazed by the heat they cast. A great bonfire roared in front of the long wooden buildings, its bright glow making shadows dance around the rough courtyard. Porters bustled around, bearing loads, packing wagons, shifting goods. Horses whickered from behind the buildings, and the carriage horses responded. Tayla stepped close to Meghan, pressing herself against the handmaid's back, her heart attempting to strangle her.

"Greetings!" a cheerful voice exclaimed. Tayla saw an elderly man stepping forth from the crowd, several inches shorter than herself, his head gleaming in the firelight. His eyes were in shadows, but his smile was wide and bright, his fingers worn with age as he extended his hand in greeting. Meghan was familiar with the trader custom, and grasped his hand in response, introducing herself and the princess.

"Ah, yes, the Reit sisters. We received your letter yesterday, and already got you a cabin set aside. It's always good to get new blood coming in, bringing in new money. Can't say as I've ever dealt with anyone from Lerne, though I have heard of it. Cold place. How's this weather treating you girls?"

Tayla stumbled along with Meghan, having shaken the man's hand, and clung to the handmaid, fighting the urge to hide. She tried not to stare at the men and women around her, even as eyes fell heavy upon her from the buildings and wagons. She heard the old man mention dinner, and he was guiding them into the longest building of the complex.

The trio stopped in the entrance, giving Tayla a moment to catch her breath. They stood in a lamp lit room, a wooden table running the length. Smaller lamps burned beside plain settings, wooden chairs awaiting the guests who stood mingling. The walls were adorned with landscape paintings, stained by years of soot from the lamps and torches. The plank floor was scuffed from countless boots, and stained with unknown fluids.

The people were a mixed crowd; rough men with well-worn clothing chatting amicably with people of clearly noble standing. Tayla shivered, shyness causing a fine sweat to break out along her back. Meghan squeezed her hand reassuringly, continuing to chat with their guide. Tayla focused on the moment at hand, ignoring the majority of traders present.

"I am Master Elmer. I'm the one who first started all this caravan business. Made it a lot easier once we all started teaming together, instead of trying to cut each other's throats." Tayla nodded slightly in acknowledgment, watching as a small group of traders came forward, all smiling and extending their hands. Tayla bit down on the inside of her lip, stifling the queasy pain of her shyness. She nodded and mumbled greetings at each of the caravan owners, storing their names away in the back of her head, too numb to recall them immediately.

"And this is our other newest owner, Baron Rikter Thatus." Elmer's voice droned in her ears as Tayla fell into the blackest eyes she had ever seen.

Chapter 2

She felt Meghan shivering beside her, the older woman's pale hand lingering a moment on the well-manicured fingers of the tall man standing before them. His eyes were on Tayla the entire moment, his angular lips caressing Meghan's name as he turned to clasp the princess's hand.

Her nerves almost burst as the world seemed to stop. Baron Thatus stepped closer, their body heat mingling, his hand almost painfully tight. His eyes were a perfect almond shape, his lashes long and thick. He smiled slightly, raised her hand to his lips, pressed his silken lips to her knuckles, and the princess distantly felt her knees begin to buckle.

"Greetings, Tayla Reit. It's my pleasure to meet you." He held her gaze over their hands, and Tayla flushed, unable to break his hold upon her. Her fingers trembled in his grasp, and his smile deepened as he slowly let go.

Drawing her breath, feeling people pressed around them, she forced herself to speak. "And greetings to you, Baron Thatus." Tayla smiled, giving a slight curtsy, finally able to pull pale green eyes from his gaze.

"You can call me Rikter," he purred, letting his hand drop, but staying touchably close. Meghan said something to Elmer, and Tayla's entire body lurched as she moved toward the table. Chewing on her lip, she glanced back at the baron. His onyx eyes glittered at her, but he spoke directly to another seeming noble as they moved around the table.

Elmer assigned them all seats, and Tayla's thoughts whirled as she sat. _He is unreal. He cannot possibly be real._ She shuddered as she lifted her napkin, settling it across her lap. Her dreams flashed before her eyes, chilling her heart, as years of fear marched through her veins. Biting her lip, Tayla looked for the intimidating baron.

Her entire body went numb again as her eyes met Rikter's once more. The fear almost overrode the attraction, reminding her of nightmares that had brought her screaming from sleep. It would take no effort for his face to turn to snarls, for the straight eyebrows to meet, for the fine mouth to distend with anger. Swallowing hard, Tayla turned to Meghan, Rikter's gaze heavy upon her still.

Meghan was already deep in conversation with Elmer and a tall dark skinned woman seated across from him. Servants began moving, setting plates before them. Rich smells wafted from the food, reminding Tayla that lunch had been hours before. Keeping her head down, the princess began eating.

Between bites, she looked up to meet the baron's gaze. The meal soon turned to lead in her stomach, weighing her down, and she could not find the words to converse with anyone around her. Even with his eyes boring into her, Rikter talked easily to those around him, drawing all attention to himself. The princess felt relief that his skills kept her from having to make conversation.

Why must he stare at me? Why must his eyes frighten me like this? Why does no one else notice this eeriness around him? How will I ever get these eyes out of my gaze? Can I survive six more days with him? Would Meghan ever forgive me if I avoided everyone altogether?

The meal drug out forever, Tayla poking at her food, but too wound up to enjoy it anymore. Rikter never once attempted to speak to her, but he neither did he take his eyes off her. She felt the weight of his stare, and tried once to draw Meghan's attention to him, but Elmer had the handmaid deep in the details of the spice trade. When dinner ended, everyone rose, shaking hands again, breaking off into groups. Rising from the table, Tayla stepped away, her vision dimming momentarily. She was tired, and the wine she had drunk was having its affect upon her. She heard Meghan say her name, but was already dashing for the door.

She brushed against a servant coming in and forced her way past, stumbling down the single step to the packed dirt courtyard. The chill autumn air hit her like a slap, pausing her flight. The princess looked around at the unfamiliar buildings, wishing she'd paid attention to Elmer's words when he pointed out their rooms. She turned, face flushed, hearing the distant rumble of thunder, watching the exiting groups of caravan leaders, and waited for Meghan.

The handmaid closed the distance between them swiftly as she left the dining hall. Her face was tense as she grasped Tayla's hand and pulled her between two of the wooden buildings. "And what exactly do you think you are doing? You made quite a scene storming out like that."

Tayla wiped at the tears standing in her eyes, her throat painfully tight. "I apologize, Meghan. I think I had too much wine, and I am so very tired, and I just cannot think right now." Tayla stumbled, and the handmaid stopped, wrapped her arms around the girl's shoulders.

"Do not cry, my dear. I will take you back to our rooms, and we can spend all day tomorrow relaxing. Master Elmer told me that we are awaiting one last caravan, and we will leave the day after. So there will be no travel for you, and you can calm these poor nerves of yours." Meghan leaned back, tipping Tayla's chin up in the dim torch light. "Does that sound like a good thing?"

Tayla nodded slightly, sniffling, fighting back her tears. "I would like a day to rest."

Meghan started walking once more, taking the girl towards a dimly lit cabin. The exterior was rough wood, the torches dancing across the grained surface, and a lamp blinked at them through the smoky glass. The door was unlocked, opening with a weary groan at Meghan's touch. Their traveling chests sat against one wall, Meghan's valise on one of the neatly made beds. A mirror cast a warped reflection back at them, and Tayla was almost stunned by the pale visage staring back at her. Even the distortion of the poorly glazed surface did not hide the large eyes, the upturned nose, and the full mouth she had carried all her life. The princess stepped out of Meghan's embrace, closing the distance to the mirror, staring deep into the grass colored eyes of her reflection.

Sometimes I understand why people stare at me. My great aunt told me I look just like my grandmother, that she was hailed as the greatest beauty in the north. Her looks did not pass to my father, but have come to me. And my looks are going to be my doom.

Meghan was speaking as she dug through one of the chests, and Tayla realized she had not heard it. She turned her head; dizziness threatened her equilibrium, and she placed a hand on the wall. "What did you say?" she mumbled, frowning as darkness blurred the edges of her vision.

Meghan smiled as she approached, nightclothes draped over one fleshy arm, and she reached to the ribbon holding her braid. "You must have drunk much more wine than you are used to. I have never seen you with such a startled and lost look upon your face."

Tayla took a deep breath, straightening herself, licking her lips. "I am not drunk, if that is what you are implying. It is simply another moment of being overwhelmed by everything today. I should feel better in the morning."

Meghan made her way to the window, looking out into the night. "I am glad you are not drunk. I should feel disappointed if you were not able to at least spend a little time conversing with Baron Thatus."

Tayla's face drained of blood. Her entire world drained of color, and her knees grew weak. Unable to speak, she let herself collapse to the edge of the nearby bed. After a pause, she was finally able to force the words out. "What do you mean, converse with Baron Thatus?"

Meghan was walking towards the door, skirts swishing around her ankles, a mischievous smile playing across her lips. "The baron stopped me as I was following you out, and he asked if he might share a bottle of old wine he has in his cabin. I could not turn down a noble, and invited him to join us here." Before Tayla could protest, Meghan was opening the door and cheerfully greeting the dark and eerie baron. He took one step inside, wine bottle and glasses in one hand, and smiled winsomely at the women.

Tayla's eyes seemed to grow larger as she stared at the man in their doorway. He had removed his coat, and was now wearing only a vest and baggy silk shirt, which outlined his angular chest. He raised Meghan's hand to his lips, taking a long moment to kiss it while his hair, free of its former bonds, spread halfway down his back and cascaded over his shoulders in softly curling waves.

Handing Meghan the bottle but keeping the glasses, he walked towards the table with eyes locked on Tayla. Her heart pounded forcefully against her chest, causing her to tremble. _Surely he can hear my pulse. How can those eyes bore so deeply into my soul?_ At Meghan's request, the princess managed to gain her feet, offer her hand to Rikter as he moved beyond the table, and smile as he took her proffered fingers.

His mouth was once more electric against her flesh, and Tayla could not restrain the soft gasp from leaving her lips. The baron smiled, tracing her fingertips with his own as he let her go, sending shivers up her spine. "I hope you're not feeling any ill effects from dinner," he said softly, his accent at once sultry and exotic, rubbing like cat's fur along her senses. "You seemed rather disturbed as you left."

_Because you were scaring me!_ she thought, letting her gaze fall away from his. "No ill effects. Just very tired from travel, and very much needing to rest."

Baron Thatus turned towards Meghan, and Tayla heard the concern in his voice. "Should we perhaps postpone this little fete for tomorrow night? I should have realized that you two need to rest. I sometimes forget how long the roads are in these regions."

Tayla raised her head to second his idea, to tell him that it would be a good idea to postpone, but was given pause by the look on Meghan's face. It was clear the older woman was lost in the man's gaze; her lips were parted slightly, flushed with color, and her eyes sparkled in the lamplight. At that moment, Tayla knew she would be unable to drive Rikter away.

"It is all right, dear baron. We ladies of the north are quite hardy, and a little travel is good for us." She smiled alluringly, and Tayla settled herself back on the bed, fighting to keep the frown from her face. She watched Meghan press against Rikter as she moved to the table, opening the bottle of wine. "So, Baron Thatus, what vintage have you have brought us?"

Her arms crossed tightly beneath her breasts, Tayla couldn't miss the interplay between the two adults. Quick little touches, flashed smiles, locked gazes, they moved around each other in a dance Tayla had seen between adults before. They spoke in hushed words, seemed only to see the other.

And yet after they had each sipped from the green wine, Rikter turned towards her, his look intent. He brought her a glass, leaving Meghan to brush out her blond hair, and offered it to the princess.

"Would the young lady care to taste a flavor of my homeland?"

His voice burrowed into her ears, wrapped itself around her, and she couldn't resist the pull of his presence. Caution left her, and she rose, taking the glass from him, ignoring the shiver across her nerves when their skin met. Locking his onyx eyes with her green ones, she drank quickly from the glass, keeping her eyes wide as she tipped the glass back to drain the spice flavored alcohol.

The baron stared at her with a startled expression, his eyebrows drawing together across a faintly crooked nose. "I didn't know ladies in the north were such strong drinkers."

Alcohol burned into her gut, hot and spreading, setting a tremble through her heart, numbing every nerve it touched. Her head throbbed in instant response, her vision wavering as she kept her eyes defiantly upon Rikter. _I will fear you no more. You cannot frighten me. You are not my dream phantom. You are simply a man._

"I am not normally a drinker, Baron Thatus," she said, her voice slurring across her tongue. The woman frowned, hearing the world from a distance. Tayla held the empty glass out to the baron, and it seemed a long time before she actually moved. Rikter's fingers burned across her wrist as he took her shaking limb, drawing the glass from her grasp. Meghan was suddenly beside them, her hair a gleaming halo around her round face, the bottle in her hands, her cheeks already flushed with intoxication.

"Then perhaps I should warn you, this wine is quite potent. It has been known to evoke visions in those who drink too much of it."

Meghan cheerfully poured another glass, her eyes locked upon Rikter. Tayla felt stranded: her senses numbed yet tingling; her close friend gone completely to the alcohol; only the soul-dark eyes of a stranger to guide her. She watched him lift the glass to his mouth, watched the muscles in his neck work as he took a drink of the green fluid, watched as he licked his fine lips with a dark tongue. The princess barely saw her handmaid greedily finish another glass, so intent was she upon watching the baron before her.

"What kind of visions?" she whispered, darkness dancing along her periphery. The shadows pulsed in time with her heart as Rikter allowed Meghan to pour him another glass. He smiled as he raised the drink to his mouth, lips brushing at the rim, and Tayla shivered, imagining those lips ready to brush along her skin. The princess attempted to step back, and her calves hit the edge of the bed. She started to fall, the room spinning violently around her, then strong arms wrapped themselves around her, stilling the movement.

Tayla moaned softly in terror as she looked straight into Baron Thatus's eyes, pressed against his chest, tasted the wine on his breath. She pushed against him, seeing something vile stir in the depths of his inky eyes, and wanted to be far away from him. The moment dragged out, the princess helpless in his arms. Hunger filled the air, tightening her throat, eliciting another moan.

Rikter brushed a strand of hair from her face, his voice soft as a kitten's meow, meant for her ears alone. "You should be more careful, young one. It would be a shame if you hurt yourself." He took a half step back, drawing her with him, his arm secure around her slender waist. Tayla was trapped, was unable to resist him, and continued to stare up into his deep eyes. She heard Meghan turning down her bed, and failed to make her limbs move.

He looked once more down at her, licking his lips gracefully, his eyes searing to the depths of her being, and all fear left her for a brief instant. It seemed more protective than restraining to have his muscled arms around her. The intensity of his gaze became curiosity rather than hunting. The princess allowed herself to relax, her head bowing forward, and she sighed with relief.

The darkness that had been hiding at the edges of her vision finished its approach, dousing the light of consciousness.

She stumbles along the uneven path, her silk slippers snagging on every twig and stone in her way. Her knees are already bleeding from a dozen falls, and her palms still sting from the last collision with the ground. Low hanging branches reach greedily for her curled hair, having already claimed the ribbons she started the day with.

She's lost, beyond anything familiar, staring around at looming trunks, the arching branches forming a ceiling far above her head. Darkness clings to every surface, threating to swallow the little girl as she sniffles in fear. There is no breeze, and yet the leaves rustle with malevolence, drawing her attention from the path before her, waiting for another hidden root to grab at her tiny ankles.

Moonlight dances in slender rays between the leaves, causing the shadows to grow deeper instead of casting them away. She scurries between each slender beam of silver, hearing the echoing steps of something rustling through the undergrowth. Her heart races, trying to climb through her throat, and her palms grow slick with her sweat. Tears are blurring her vision, setting the moonlight to dancing, smearing the surrounding forest into a wall of dark. Somewhere an owl calls, warning all souls, and she wishes she could fly away with it, rise above the forest.

Ahead on the path she sees a great wall of brightness, the sign of a clearing. At last, an escape from the trees! Clutching tight to her stuffed rabbit toy, she runs towards the light, maintaining her balance for the first time, ignoring the pain of the snags and scratches, keeping her wide eyes locked ahead, and finally bursts out into the brightness.

Standing in the middle of the clearing is a darkness deeper than the shadows of the forest. She stops, the trees looming at her back, the figure looming over her. Biting her lip, she looks up, and eyes glitter at her from far above. Never has she felt this small before, even amongst the ancient trees. Ducking her head with shyness, she clutches tighter to her rabbit, gazing intently back up at the shadow and its eerie eyes. It's as if the entire night sky is contained in those two orbs, and she wants to soar through them and into freedom.

The figure loses height, grows wider, resolves itself into a man. She can see the curious frown on his face, his eyes still endlessly deep. She bites her lips harder, smelling a storm approaching, the rain heavy upon the air. A milk white hand appears from the shadow, caressing her tangled hair, protective and loving. "Would you like to come home with me?" asks a voice, warm and welcoming. She nods her tiny head, smiling at him, feeling the fear of the forest recede. He wraps his arms around her, and she laughs softly, feeling at home at last.

Tayla woke with a gasp, her mouth thick with a sour taste, her skin slick with sweat. She stretched in the unfamiliar bed, her body tingling, her nerves warm and jittering. Rolling her eyes open, she glanced around, looking for Meghan.

The lamp was out, but torches still burned outside, casting a faint orange glow through the curtains over the window. She sighed, her body aching, a tightness burning deep inside her, and Tayla stared around disoriented for a moment. Her eyes would not focus properly in the dim light, and all she saw was a blur of pale flesh in the other bed.

A suppressed moan brought her eyes into sharp focus, and the young woman bit her lip, embarrassment filling her. Meghan's back arched as she ground herself onto Rikter's lap, her wrists captured behind her back by one of his large hands. Her hair looked almost dark in the shadows as her head fell back, the baron's mouth moving against her skin. Again the handmaid moaned, her buttocks flexing as she rode her lover slowly.

Tayla buried herself into her pillow, trying to draw back, unable to look away from the coupling. Her heart stumbled in her chest, her skin crawling as unfamiliar sensations wormed through her nerves. Her voice suddenly echoed with Meghan's, and she felt soft lips searing along her collarbone. She was filled with heat, pressure building low in her gut, and her thighs trembled with movements she wasn't making. The princess tried to close her eyes, tried to banish the feelings, but she wanted to feel the baron's skin slick against her own.

Meghan suddenly fell forward, her head resting upon Rikter's shoulder, and Tayla gasped as her gaze met his. She was falling into the blackness in his face, her mouth gone dry, and she was immediately cut off from every nerve-searing sensation. The princess reeled, her mind spun, and she nodded as Rikter mouthed a command to her. "Go back to sleep." It was easy to obey, and her eyelids fell heavily over her vision. Meghan's soft sobbing followed her back into darkness.

Chapter 3

The princess stirred, blankets tangled around her limbs, and she opened her eyes slowly. Meghan stood near the table, dishing steaming food onto two plates. Tayla smelled fresh bread and hot bacon, along with something sweet. She stretched again, groaning with the effort, and rolled to her side.

Meghan looked over from the corner of her eye, her hair loose around her shoulders, the red standing out strong in the morning light. "Did you sleep well, my princess?" she asked, pouring fresh milk from a ceramic pitcher. The curtains were drawn back, and light came through bubbled glass. Tayla frowned at the quality of light, and looked past to the sky. Gray clouds hung low overhead, roiling with building strength.

Tayla sat up, nodding, tugging at the seams of her shift, trying to remember when she had removed her clothes. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, the wooden floor smooth beneath her delicate feet. Meghan sat at the table, no formality between the two women, lifting the first bite of bacon to her mouth.

"I slept well enough," the girl said as she shuffled to the table. Her head ached, and her mouth felt like it was lined with something vile. She drank deep from the milk, attempting to wash the flavor away. "I dreamt again."

Meghan took a bite of buttered toast, smiling as she savored the flavor. "You have always had rather peculiar dreams. Anything that stood out in this one?"

Tayla chewed on a tiny bit of bacon, the grease making her queasy. "I do not entirely recall them. That wine was quite strong. Other than the normal darkness, it seems that Rikter was holding me, and then there was someone in bed with you. But I cannot think of anything else."

Meghan's fork scraped across the plate, causing Tayla to look sharply up. She saw the blush deepening across her friend's cheeks, and blushed in response. "So that part was not a dream," she whispered, smiling softly at Meghan's discomfort.

The handmaid straightened up, taking a deep drink. "No, that was not a dream. Baron Rikter and I were...well, we were enjoying each other's company."

Tayla frowned, tearing a hunk of bread for herself, resisting the urge to vomit. "In all the times I have known you to enjoy someone's company, I have never seen you get so easily embarrassed about it. Even that time I walked in on you with that young guard captain-"

"That was an entirely different situation," Meghan burst in. "He had been courting me for a while, and we finally decided to be together. Baron Rikter was something so impulsive. And I think a lot of it may have had to do with that wine." The handmaid smiled, turning to gaze out the window. "Although, I have tried to make it more. He has invited himself over for lunch, and I agreed. He is an amazing man. Almost like something from a dream."

Tayla's heart froze, and she paused, hand halfway to her mouth. _Why would she choose those words? I have not told her about my fears, about Rikter's eyes on me last night. Dare I tell her? Should I have told her before he came over last night?_

Meghan did not seem to notice the girl's reaction, and continued to stare out the window. She toyed with her food, her face wistful. Tayla set her bread back on the plate, wiping her hands on a linen napkin. Her appetite fled far away as she watched her friend act like a lovestruck girl, and she rose from the table. She stumbled back towards her bed, and began her morning rituals, hoping a change of clothes and quick bath would refresh her.

She undressed swiftly, banishing thoughts of her dreams and the night before. The princess focused on little things, like slipping out of her shift or pulling her hair over her shoulder. Tayla's mind began to clear, and her mood began to brighten. Glancing toward the window, she wished the day would follow suit.

When Tayla was down to her underwear, Meghan rose with a playful sigh. She went to the stove in the corner and lifted the kettle that simmered there. "How about a nice warm bath before we start our day?"

Tayla nodded, a small smile upon her lips, and waited for the water to be poured. Meghan went about her duties swiftly, and she was gentle as she wiped a warm cloth along Tayla's neck. Droplets of water ran down her skin, one coursing between her young breasts, and a wave of remembered sensation raced up her body. Meghan's steadying hand on her shoulder only fueled the reaction, and Tayla gasped.

Her handmaid stopped, drawing the cloth away. "Are you hurt, my lady?"

Tayla bit her lip, clenched her fists, and shook slightly. Tears threatened, and she kept them at bay by sheer willpower. _I will not allow this to bother me. It was a reaction to the wine, nothing more. I was only imaging what it felt like to be in his arms._ Yet still she felt ghostly hands grasping her wrists.

Meghan turned the girl, staring down into light green eyes. "Are you all right?" Her voice was a breathy whisper, her blond brows drawn together as she frowned at her mistress.

Tayla nodded finally, and unclenched her hands. Her nerves tingled as the remembered touches finally faded. Her entire body shook, and it took several deep breaths before she could speak. "Just recalling...the dream, it seems like. But I cannot put all of it together." She tried to smile as she looked up at her handmaid, and a single tear slipped down her cheek. Meghan wiped it away, smiling reassuringly. "And I was thinking about dinner last night. I never got a chance to tell you, but..."

The princess's words trailed off as she looked deep into the forest colored eyes of her friend. Far in their depths was the giddiness Meghan had expressed earlier. Even waiting upon Tayla did not stem her desire for the baron, and the princess knew it would be near impossible to sway the older woman's opinion. Her heart shook, and she wanted to flee. Depression stirred through her soul, and Tayla felt utterly alone. She had no desire to rush to King Tolsen's court, yet neither did she desire to linger with the man who frightened her so.

"What is it? What did you want to tell me?" Meghan's voice was gentle, the familiar comfort beckoning the princess to confide in her. Tayla hesitated still, and the handmaid resumed her task, the cloth refreshing against soft skin.

"I wanted to tell you that I noticed Baron Thatus watching us during dinner. I was almost worried that he recognized us."

Meghan smiled, her eyes dancing at the mention of the man's name. Her touch was like a feather along the princess's nerves, and again sensations stirred through the girl. She turned, drawing her hair over one shoulder, squeezing her eyes tight to cut off the vision of Meghan's fawning expression. The handmaid spoke distractedly as she washed Tayla's back.

"Your father's plan is quite clever. No one should suspect you are a princess, especially now that we are outside his kingdom. I have never noticed Rikter in court, so I doubt that he knows who you are. You are safe my princess. We shall be fine."

Tayla remained quiet as Meghan helped her dress, forcing her thoughts away from the baron. Meghan was preparing herself for lunch with the baron when Tayla excused herself for a walk. She kept her arms wrapped around herself as she strolled away from the camp, her brooding thoughts darker than the clouds overhead.

All my life, I have believed my father thought me special. All my life, I believed that I was meant for something more. Why else would I have the dreams I have? Always being rescued, always fleeing from something dark, always running towards the light. Why is life not that simple?

"I hadn't expected to find you outside your cabin. I would have thought you were still asleep."

Rikter's voice cut through her melancholy, starting her heart to quaking. She turned, facing the man, and felt her breath catch in her throat. Even with heavy clouds dancing in front of the sun, the baron had the hood of his cloak up, his long hair curling forward across his chest. His eyes were deep wells, and Tayla could not escape them as she stared up at him. She blanched, and her thoughts circled uselessly within her mind.

The baron bowed at the waist, the edge of his cloak cutting off his face from her view. With his gaze broken, she was able to concentrate again, and felt the embarrassment of her reaction. As Baron Thatus rose from his bow, she clasped her hands in front of her, dipping in a half curtsy. She kept her head ducked slightly, the breeze running fingers through her dark hair. "I rose early today, Baron," she replied softly.

He took a step closer, almost too close, and Tayla stiffened, looking up. A gentle smile graced his lips, and there was nothing to fear in his face. Warmth suffused the girl, and she remembered how safe she felt in her dreams when her rescuer would save her. His smile deepened as he raised his hand to push away a stray lock of hair, and the princess felt her depression washing away.

"I should apologize to you for last night, young Miss Reit. It was not my intention to get you drunk like that." He bowed his head, holding forth his hand, and Tayla could not deny the pull of his presence. She lifted her hand, laying it in his, and allowed him to raise it for a kiss. The skin of his lips was soft and warm, silken across her knuckles, his eyes warm and welcoming as he held her gaze.

"Your apology is accepted. Although, the fault is not yours alone," she said, unwilling to pull her hand back from his. "I know my limits, and I should have stopped myself." Her mouth went dry, and part of her wanted him to wrap her in his long cloak, protect her from the slight chill in the air.

Her let go of her hand slowly, his eyes keeping her in place, and tipped his head slightly. Several breaths passed in silence, and finally he spoke, his accent thicker this morning than the previous night. The princess felt comfortable at that moment, safe near him, fear hidden in the night.

How could he have frightened me so much last night? It must have been the melancholy from the ride, some trick of exhaustion. These eyes are merely dark and knowledgeable. There are no depthless pits waiting to consume my soul. He is not here to hurt me.

He is simply so different from the nobles of my own kingdom. Of course he is different, his looks unusual to me. Had I met him in my father's brightly lit court, I most likely would have been just as surprised by his presence.

It does not help that there is something familiar about him. His very presence reminds me of dreamscapes. Perhaps it is that he is so remarkably beautiful, almost ethereal. It is all too easy to believe he is from a dream, especially the easy way his face lights up when he smiles. I have never before seen a man with such long lashes, such silken hair, such cheekbones. The ladies at court would follow him like cats after cream.

The space of heartbeats had passed, yet it seemed to stretch on eternally. Rikter finally spoke, reaching up to push the hood of his cloak back as the clouds thickened. "So what is it you do for your father, young Miss Reit?"

Tayla's voice caught in her throat, and she wrung her hands before her, caught off guard. Meghan had gone over their cover story, but neither had thought they should need so many details. Tayla was familiar with the basics, but she had expected to rely on Meghan to speak to questioners. And here she was, away from Meghan, stranded with only a curious baron for company.

She ducked her head shyly, hands wringing more furiously as she stumbled across possible answers. Twice she opened her mouth, but the words refused to leave her throat, and her cheeks began to flame with chagrin.

The baron made a small sound, reaching towards the princess. She looked up, startled, heart racing in her chest, as his fingers gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. His skin was like ice against hers, and it caused her nerves to ache. His face was unreadable, his brows arching slowly as he smiled at her discomfort. "I wasn't exactly sure last night, but it seems like you're the quiet one. I was hoping maybe you were just tired." He traced her jaw with one finger tip, and Tayla backed up a step, vision swimming as heat poured through her veins. "Are you the shy one? Is that your secret?"

Shy, so very shy. Always so painfully shy. Always hiding in my room, hating every moment of large gatherings. As long as I can remember, I have been so awkward amongst strangers. Even now, I cannot control it.

She looked up at him, vision clearing as the moment of panic faded, and he was waiting patiently for her to speak. _If you knew my real secret, I would be in trouble._ Her voice quavered as she spoke, low and quiet. "Shyness is what has kept me out of my father's doings. And now...now he thinks it time for me to see the world."

Rikter whispered his next words as he stepped closer, the hem of his cloak dancing across her toes. "And what does the young Miss Tayla want?"

Heat burned in his voice, reaching out to the princess. His eyes smoldered, and she gasped as she fell into them. Tayla was close enough to taste his breath, to bathe in the musky scent that was the essence of his masculinity. She clasped her hands before her, clenching them so tightly together the bones ached. She bit her lip, not caring how she looked, needing that touch of pain to keep herself from surrendering to this man. Tayla would not have cared if he had clasped her in that moment, ravaging her body, so intent was the heat in his gaze.

The princess forced herself to speak, using her words as a shield against the man. "I want freedom." As the words slipped across her tongue, she could taste the truth of them. She wanted the freedom to simply be herself, even if it meant no longer being a princess.

She felt him moving before she saw it, his hand rising to her face. Her green eyes darted down, and she watched his hand, wondering at how large his fingers were. She closed her eyes, sighing softly as his fingers brushed her cheek, and then she felt them in her hair. There was the slightest movement, and then his hand was withdrawing.

The princess opened her eyes with a frown, and saw him holding a leaf, his head tipped as he gazed down at her. "Freedom isn't always what one hopes it is," he said softly, voice barely louder than the rising wind. "There is very little safety in freedom. And there is almost always someone seeking to take it away."

Tayla frowned at him, the raw emotion in his voice giving her pause. "You speak from experience?"

Pain lanced across his face, a momentary break of his handsome visage, and sympathy stirred in response. Then a familiar voice called out, breaking the moment. "I am ever so glad you two are talking." Meghan appeared beside them, maroon cloak hanging from her shoulders, the wind pulling jealously through her hair. Rikter's onyx eyes remained on Tayla, even as he greeted the handmaid.

Tayla blushed as Meghan threw her arms around Rikter's neck, offering her mouth to him. The princess looked away, breaking his gaze, and yet she felt his eyes upon her still. Curiosity stirred her, and she glanced back up, watching as he kissed Meghan on the cheek. His eyes were heavy upon the princess, even as he embraced Meghan, their bodies melding together.

Why does he stare at me so? Why do I feel as if he wants me in his arms, and not Meghan? Meghan has always been so appealing to men. Fleshy, I heard one call her. She is so tall and elegant when she wants to be. Beside her, I feel I am still a child.

Tayla bowed slightly, excusing herself, then turned and walked as swiftly away as she could. Heat flared in her cheeks, and her back cringed. The princess knew Baron Thatus's eyes were upon her still, and she wrung her hands before her once more, heavily confused.

How can he stare at me like that, with his lover in his arms? Does he truly prefer me to Meghan? Then why bed her? Or is he like the guardsmen I have heard the maids speaking of, moving from one conquest to another, always hungry for the next woman?

Tayla found herself back in the cabin quickly, a cold lunch spread on the table. She leaned against a chair, holding herself up as she trembled, and she met her green gaze in the cheap mirror. She ran her hand over her wind tangled hair, and then down the front of her dress. The princess could see the signs of blooming womanhood, aware that she should have begun fleshing out at least a year ago. At sixteen, her older sister had been better developed than Tayla was now, at eighteen.

What man would want me for my body? I may have my grandmother's face and eyes, but I have the stableboy's body. Men do not crave an undeveloped woman. It is my power they want. And it is my father's power that will make King Tolsen want me.

Stifling a sob, Tayla threw herself to her bed. She curled up beneath the blankets, wrapping herself tight, and tried to hide from the world. The sky outside darkened further, making the world seem like dusk already, and Tayla felt it matched her brooding soul. She cried silently, burying her face in the pillow, and finally slept.

Alone she stands in the clearing, the wind whispering through the trees in the distance. Mist lies low along the ground, dancing in the breeze, clammy as it crawls around her ankles. She wraps her arms around herself, wishing she had her cloak with her. Clouds scud across the sky, chasing after the waning moon. She fears the darkness, fears being enclosed forever.

Footsteps crunch on dried grass, and she turns towards the sound. The wind grows silent suddenly, almost in respect of the figure striding towards her. She trembles, entranced by the glowing darkness of the wolf that stares at her. She feels his hunger, feels his ache for her, and she can do nothing to avoid it.

The wolf brushes against her, his fur warm and soft, thick and inviting. She lets one hand down, running chilled fingers through his coat, and the wolf pauses. He stands against her, his sides moving slowly with each breath, and she can feel his pulse beneath her touch. She strokes and pets him, now running both hands through his fur, touching his ears, his shoulders, his warm nose, his mouth.

His tongue laps at her hand, and she laughs, the slick muscle tickling her nerves. The wolf startles at the sound, and dances away, ears back as he snarls. She does not fear him, even as saliva drips from his fangs. She reaches for him once more, stepping closer, and he lunges. She falls to the ground beneath his massive weight, his fangs ripping at her neck, her blood splashing across his muzzle.

The clouds finally catch the moon, and darkness encloses all as he laps at her flesh.

Chapter 4

She sighed, arms wrapped tightly around her chest, and opened her eyes. Sleep had eluded her for most of the afternoon, leaving her more weary than she had started. Meghan seemed impervious to the dreariness of the afternoon, humming softly to herself as she embroidered on Tayla's cloak again. The princess rolled her head to the side, staring out the rain covered window of the carriage.

They had left early in the morning, the sun barely kissing the sky beneath a blanket of cloud, and had been riding at a steady pace ever since. The princess had slept fitfully the previous day, and it showed in her attitude. Snappy since they rose, Tayla was grateful not to have seen the baron. Meghan cheerfully informed her he was going to be close by, and that he would check in on them occasionally.

Then it had started raining, and grayness had swallowed their carriage. She could see nothing but curtains of silvery rain, and couldn't hear the horses over the drumming on the roof. Part of her felt sorry for anyone caught in the rain, and another part of her was glad the baron had not sought shelter with them.

Tayla bit her lip, fingering the lacings along the side of her dress. _He did not come after dinner last night. I felt too sick and weary to have been good company. It is a wonder that Meghan allowed me to beg off going to dinner with the caravan owners. I am sure she made a good showing for the both of us. And then I am sure she made a good showing in his bed._

The princess looked away from the window, tears leaping suddenly to her eyes. _That is not fair. Meghan is allowed her pleasures, allowed to share herself as she wants. It must simply be jealousy talking, making me feel so bitter about her liaisons with Baron Thatus. If I could have the freedom she has, I should not feel so lonely._

Tayla looked at her handmaid, and saw the faintest bruise at the base of her neck. The princess blushed slightly, knowing it for a love mark. Meghan glanced up, having felt the weight of the girl's gaze, and smiled broadly. "So my princess is feeling rested?"

She shook her head slightly, leaning heavily against the wall of the carriage. "I feel so very worn out, like I have not slept for days."

Meghan sighed with a frown, packing away the needlework once more. "This has not been an easy trip for you. I do hope you have not been taken by some night fever."

Tayla looked out the window, realizing they were coming to a stop. "No worse a night fever than I have always had," she said softly, peering into thickening darkness. "The night comes so swiftly during these storms," she said distractedly. "It just swallows everything in its path."

The carriage rocked to a stop, and the girl saw the faintest sputters of torches. They were at camp, and she now heard voices around them. Meghan frowned, and slowly opened the door. Rain misted in, and the breeze carried a chill with it, setting the princess to shivering.

Meghan gasped in startlement as Baron Thatus appeared in the doorway, water streaming down his face, pouring off of an oilskin cloak. He smiled at her surprise, and offered her his hand. "My sweet sisters, I thought I would extend my hospitality to you. I had some of my men follow Elmer forward, and they have already set up my tent. I know you don't have the spare men to have done that, so would you care to wait in my tent until yours is ready?" He blinked, drops of raining beating his cheeks, his hair soaked through. Tayla wondered why he didn't wear the hood up on his cloak, staring at his glistening flesh.

The handmaid answered quickly, grabbing her valise. "It would be our honor to share your hospitality. It also gladdens my heart to be met by someone so considerate." She took his hand, and allowed herself to be pulled from the carriage. Tayla bit her lip as her friend disembarked into darkness, and paused. She heard horses whinnying tiredly, caravan owners chatting, porters calling orders, and the drumming on the roof seemed to increase.

Rikter stood in the doorway still, turning to face the princess. He smiled lopsidedly, seeming to enjoy the feel of the downpour. He reached towards her, and Tayla watched as water dripped from his pale skin. "If you're worried about getting wet, young miss, I've got another of these cloaks waiting here for you. My man is already taking your sister to the tent. Please, let's get you some place warm."

She trembled, thinking about walking with the baron, about being so close to him. He waited patiently, hand held out, and his smile deepened. "Come to me, shy one. I won't hurt you."

His words stung her, making her realize what a silly child she was being. The princess moved forward, taking his hand, allowing him to pull her from the carriage. Only a few spatters of rain managed to hit her before one of the baron's servants draped a heavy cloak over her. Her world was instantly narrowed to Rikter's hand and the tunneled view under the hood. Rain drummed against the oiled cloth, each drop pelting her shoulders, and was suddenly grateful for everything.

Baron Thatus pulled her closer, clasping her hand still, yet did not allow his wet clothes to touch her. She looked up, and he was smiling gently at her. "Do you see? It's not my intention to hurt you." She blushed, his eyes haunting in the darkness. Tayla could not resist his look, and felt her lips part. Fear brushed against her mind, fear of falling prey to him, and she didn't understand. There was no hunger in his eyes, nothing suspicious about his face. He looked completely innocent at that moment, and Tayla could not understand why her heart suddenly raced with panic.

He frowned momentarily, then began leading her the short distance to his tent. It was made of high quality material, and the princess saw shadows within, cast from lamps hung on the posts. Stepping with him through the tent flap, she felt a wave of warmth from a brazier glowing nearby.

Meghan was already seated, a towel around her shoulders, strawberry blond hair merely damp from her walk in the rain. Tayla stepped out of the borrowed cloak, and went to sit beside her handmaid, hunger gurgling in her stomach. She turned her leaf green eyes towards the baron, watching him drop his cloak in a puddle to the floor.

"Dinner will unfortunately be a while," he said, fingers going to the buttons on his vest. "Seems the cook was having some issues getting his fire relit. So we shall have to entertain ourselves for a time."

Meghan cleared her throat as the baron took the sodden vest off. He dropped the cloth from pale fingers, and bowed, his cheeks blushing slightly. "Many pardons, Miss Reit. I had not thought to stand on propriety. I presumed upon our intimacy." He lifted his head, still bowing, his wet hair hanging in strands around high cheekbones. "If you do not mind, I would be but a moment putting on something dry."

Tayla felt her friend trembling slightly, and knew she was lost in the man's eyes. Tayla clasped her hands in her lap, and bowed her head, biting her lip. _Is it for my sake that she reminds him not to simply disrobe in front of us? Is she protecting me from him? Does she forget I have already seen most of him?_

"I do not mind, dear baron," Meghan said with a husky tone. "I am weary, and was not thinking clearly."

"It is I who wasn't thinking," he replied, and Tayla heard him moving around the tent. "I wanted nothing more than to wrap myself in this lovely robe I acquired years ago." Tayla felt Meghan's head turn, and heard Rikter's shirt fall to the floor with a wet thump. "It is made of the hide of a very rare cat, and it's one of the few comforts I can bring with me on the road." There was a pause, and Meghan gasped.

Heat radiated from the handmaid, and Tayla looked up with a frown. The older woman's eyes were wide, her mouth parted, color creeping across her cheeks. The princess turned, following the direction of Meghan's stare. Her breath escaped in a gasp as she spied the baron.

He stood near an open chest, his pants hanging low on his hips, the laces undone. His muscled chest was framed by a vibrant silver robe, ebony colored stripes following the contours of his shoulders and arms. He stared openly at Meghan as he ran hands through sodden hair, his chest rippling with his movements. Tayla bit her lip as he pulled the robe closed at the waist, hiding sight of his taut skin. She swallowed hard, realizing she was wringing her hands in a rapid movement. Blushing at her reaction, she turned away.

Meghan was unabashed about her reaction, eyes hungry on her lover as he stepped out of boots and pants. She smiled as he approached, and tipped her head to him as he ran a hand through her hair. Standing behind Tayla, she smelled a spiciness to the robe, and it was a compliment to the baron's natural musk.

The princess shied away, keeping her eyes aware from the pair, heart trembling. Meghan moaned beside her, and the princess felt the woman shift as she wrapped herself around Rikter's shoulders. His hand brushed Tayla's back, and she nearly cried out as shock coursed through her nerves, heat humming through her veins. The girl bit her lip, feeling silken lips crushed to hers, strong flesh flowing beneath her arms, her breasts crushed awkwardly against a rock hard body.

Tayla moved away from the couple shifting along the cot that served as their seat, clenching her hands together, trying to drive away these unwanted sensations. Rikter moved into her vacated spot, his hands still buried in Meghan's hair, and Tayla sighed with the handmaid as the woman relented to the baron's advances.

She cried out suddenly, her nails breaking skin, and the flow of passionate images stopped cold. Blood welled around her nails, and she stared at her palms uncomprehendingly. She heard Meghan hiss in reaction, and then Rikter's hand was on her wrist, drawing the damage towards the couple. "Are you all right?" Meghan asked breathlessly, dabbing at the blood with her skirt.

Tears stood in Tayla's eyes, yet she refused to let them fall. She looked at her servant, and saw the flush of passion still in her face, her lips dark from the kisses she showered on Rikter. She felt the silken fur of the robe touching her arm, and she felt heat leaking into her flesh, but the slight pain kept it at bay. Biting the inside of her lip, Tayla could only nod in response to the question.

Rikter rose, returning to his chest. Meghan moved closer, still dabbing at the crescent wounds, and tsked at her ward. "You should be more careful, dear. You could hurt yourself." The handmaid looked at Rikter as he returned, and took the clean linen from him. The princess sat shyly, watching the baron from the corner of her eye as Meghan bound her small wounds.

"I did not realize I was doing it," she whispered. "I could not think clearly, and I suppose I became a little violent."

Rikter sat behind Meghan, his dark eyes locked on the princess's fair skin. "It was probably the robe. This cat is legendary for bringing out the passions in its prey, and that effect lingers even after death." He smiled hungrily as Meghan moved back against him, smiling as she tied off the first of the bandages. "As I said, it's a very dear luxury." He glanced up at Tayla, a feral smile darting across his lips, and she trembled, the fear rising again. "It's one of the many beautiful things I allow myself."

Why is it that he says this to me? Why does he give his passions to Meghan, and yet stare so intently at me? Why does he act like it was my own passion that was rising at his touch, when by all accounts it was Meghan's lust I felt?

How is it that I can feel her desires? Why do I share her actions?

One of Rikter's servants cleared his throat, then entered the tent. Meghan finished tying the last bandage as the man set out a travel table and three servings of leftover stew from lunch. Beside the pot of stew, he left a bottle of wine and a loaf of white bread. Meghan served Tayla, and then Rikter, while the baron poured the wine. The princess dug into her food, hiding her confusion behind the simple fare, drinking heavily of the wine, barely tasting the heavy red alcohol.

Meghan and Rikter spoke lowly over the meal, touching and flirting. Tayla focused more and more upon the food, pouring herself new glasses of wine as she emptied the plain pewter goblet. She didn't taste the food, using the bread to sop up the last of the stew gravy.

Her head spinning, the young princess drained a final glass of wine, and felt herself losing her balance. She clutched at the table, and set the dishes to clattering as it shifted. She blushed furiously, meeting Meghan's eyes as the handmaid turned to her. She laughed abruptly, and set her glass clumsily on the table. It tipped over, landing with a clatter upon her plate.

Rikter rose beside Meghan, frowning faintly. "It seems the young miss has forgotten her limits again," he said as he neared her. Meghan touched Tayla's wrist, and the girl giggled, then sighed when Rikter's hands came to rest on her shoulders.

"I know my limits very well," she slurred, vision blurring suddenly. The baron pulled her to her feet, and she wobbled, resting a hand against his chest to maintain balance. She looked into his face, and smiled at him, despite the fear murmuring in the back of her mind. "I know exactly what I was doing."

He smiled, reaching down to hoist her into his arms, carrying her towards his fur covered bed. "Oh, it does seem like that. And now you must follow through with those choices." He laid her on the bed, lingering over her, his hair a curtain around their faces. She sighed as his hand briefly caressed her cheek, then he pulled a light fur across her body. "Rest well, little miss." Her eyes closed on his smiling face, and she drifted into darkness.

She stands confidently before him, nearly on a height with him, smiling as he touches her face, running his fingers through her hair. His scent fills her nostrils, enticing her to step closer, to press her full body against him. He moans softly as he feels every curve of her pressing into him. In return, he grabs her hair, tipping her head back to kiss her forcefully. She melts against him, and he guides her to the bed, tumbling with her onto the covers.

She relents to his urgency, wrapping her thighs around his tight hips. His hands pull her clothes open, exposing her flesh to him, and his mouth welcomes each inch to the night. She tugs at his clothes, and they fall from his lean body. Her nails follow every contour, and he writhes against her, groaning low in his chest.

Their hunger sears both of them, driving them forward. He enters her with a growl, and she arches beneath him, feeling her need met with every stroke. He pins her wrists to the bed, holding himself up with toned arms, riding her with no care for tenderness. She calls out his name, her head lolling on the sheets, hair tangling, and he licks at her sweating flesh.

She feels herself clenching around him, her thighs trembling, pressure building deep in her loins. He is unrelenting, taking his pleasure from her trembling body. His mouth clamps to her neck, and she screams, spiraling into ecstasy, the pressure breaking, washing her body with rapture. He continues to use her, grinding deep inside her, groaning as he sweats with her.

Tayla cried out as she woke, forcing herself from the dreamscape. Sweat stood in beads on her forehead, and her hair was damp from her exertions. Darkness lay thick in the tent, and her mouth was full of the rancid taste of spoiled wine. The princess kicked at the fur tangled around her, whimpering in her panicked effort to be free.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she heard a soft snore, and knew she was not alone. Her eyes could barely make out two pale forms not five feet from her, sheets covering them, and she bit her lip. She waited a moment, but neither stirred, and she was comforted that she did not wake them.

_I must have been feeling them in my dreams. I have never had a dream so sexual._ She sobbed softly. _It is all the baron's fault. If he were not sleeping with my handmaid, I would not be this tormented._

Her stomach rolled over, and the girl choked down the rising taste of bile. Clapping her hand over her mouth, she forced herself to her feet, stumbling through the tent to the seam of torchlight at the flaps. She fumbled with the clasps, desperate to be outside, and burst free at last, making it only a few steps before she collapsed and wretched. The wine burned her mouth and sinuses, and once her stomach relented, she remained on hands and knees sobbing.

Torches stood at intervals at the camp's perimeter, but she found herself in a well of shadow. For that, she was grateful. She did not want anyone near her at this moment, as she wiped vomit from her lips with the sleeve of her dress.

"You don't seem to know your limits at all," came the velvety voice, whispered from just above her. Tayla turned startled eyes upon the baron, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment, and she could not make words leave her abused throat at that moment.

His skin seemed to glow in the dim light, a sheet wrapped precariously around his waist, the bulk of it draped over one crooked arm. He held the other out to the princess, and she stared at it numbly. "Miss Reit, have I not convinced you that I won't hurt you?"

Tayla took his hand, and rose tremulously, sniffling, tears leaking slowly from her eyes. "I am sorry I woke you," she mumbled, refusing to look at his face. Instead, she stared at a point in the middle of his finely rounded pectorals, and she dropped her hand from his grasp. "I will return to bed shortly, you do not need to chaperon me." Her voice trembled, reminding her how much she hated getting sick.

Rikter made no sound, simply raised one hand to her hair, smoothing it back from her forehead. "You didn't wake me, little miss. I don't sleep much anyway. I heard you whimpering in your sleep, and then you were screaming and running from the tent." He ran his fingers gently along her cheek, then lifted her face by the chin.

Tears flowed faster as she gazed into the dark wells of his eyes. His hair was tangled around his face, flowing across his shoulders. She smelled his normal musky scent, and something heavier. Dark welts marked his chest and his shoulders, and she looked away, remembering her dreams of Meghan.

He raised his other arm, the sheet whispering as he moved, and he wiped away the tears, lifting his thumb to his mouth. Tayla could only stare as he licked the tear from his skin, frowning. "What has you so frightened that you run screaming from your bed?"

"It is not my bed," she whispered, remembering her struggle to be free of the furs. She remembered his arms around her as he carried her to bed, the smile on his face as he tucked her in. He had been considerate to her the entire time they had met, despite his near leering. She could sense his concern, and the girl knew he was genuine.

His hand did not move on her chin, and she wondered why he was waiting so patiently on her. The urge to be held overwhelmed Tayla, and she suddenly threw herself against his chest with a sob, wrapping her arms around his torso. Rikter sighed softly and laid his cheek upon the top of her head, wrapping the excess sheet around her slender form. He held her gently, comfortingly, and let her cry against his skin.

His presence soothed her nerves, and only the scent of night rain filled her nostrils, that musk she had come to associate with his presence. His skin was smooth beneath her cheek, and slightly warmer than the air around them. She fit perfectly against his upper chest, her forehead nestling into the hollow of his shoulder. His arms were strong, and the sheet warmed her. She cried herself out, sobbing bitterly, and he simply held her.

When her sobs subsided, he turned his face, kissing her hair. "Does the young miss wish to talk of her problems? Or shall I simply take you back to bed?"

Tayla's arms tightened around him, and she buried her face against his upper chest. "I do not want to go back to that bed just yet. Please, can we stay like this?"

Rikter's voice was warm as he squeezed her, a momentary hug to reassure the girl. "If you wish, we can stay like this for the rest of the night."

She smiled suddenly, and tipped her head back to look at him, tears still staining her cheeks. "You truly mean that, I can tell."

He was smiling, and removed one arm from the hug to run his hand through her hair. "If that is what you require, then I shall."

She relaxed as he combed through her tangled hair, closing her eyes, feeling safe in the darkness. His breath washed across her face, and she sighed. "I thank you for doing this, for being here for me. I have never been this scared before, never reacted like this." She opened her eyes, staring up at him, biting her lip as she decided to continue speaking her thoughts. "I have never found myself this frightened by someone before."

He paused, face flickering briefly in a frown, and his hand stopped in her hair. "Why do I frighten you?"

She shook her head softly, and tightened her arms around him. "I am not sure. Especially when you have gone out of your way to be so concerned for me. Will you forgive me?"

He smiled, his hand stroking her face. "A beautiful young rose asks me to forgive her for being frightened by a dark and mysterious stranger." His thumb touched the corner of her mouth, and her nerves hummed. His head tipped forward slightly, and Tayla sighed in response. "You do know that's what your name means, correct? Young rose." His thumb brushed across her mouth, and her lips parted in response, her body trembling in his grasp. "You look every bit a rose, beautiful even as you bloom."

She continued to shake as his arm tightened, his free hand holding her face tipped up. Tayla tried to move her arms, but found herself locked in place, not wanting to move as his face came closer. "No, I-" she started, tasting bile still on her tongue. His hand grasped her chin gently as she tried to turn away, and his answer was nearly lost on the wind as he whispered.

"I don't mind," he said, then his mouth claimed hers. His lips were warm, smoother than silk, and clasped at her own. She sighed, heart racing, heat singing through her body, and her hands clasped at his bare back. The arm around her tensed, holding her closer, his strength keeping her on her feet. His hand left her chin, going to the back of her head, pressing her against his mouth.

The kiss continued, and the pressure of his mouth parted her lips slightly, and she tasted his breath. She whimpered as his warm tongue caressed her lower lip, then fell back behind his teeth. Tayla cried out gently as the kiss ended, looking at him across the short distance, her breath heaving out of her chest. This close, she could make out the glitters in his dark eyes, and could see the dark stain of his sensuous mouth.

He touched her cheek, still holding her tight, and whispered at her, a smile hiding at the corners of his lips. "Will you forgive me my impetuousness, young rose? You simply looked like you needed that."

She blushed, ducking her head, yet looking at him still through her lashes. "I can forgive you, my kind baron." She chuckled girlishly, and smiled deeply at him. "It was rather what I needed."

He stiffened suddenly, looking up, his gaze unfocused. He wrapped her tighter in his arms, and whispered swiftly. "Stay quiet, the guards are coming near." She stood stock still in his arms, tucking her face against his chest, mouth dry as she thought about the guards finding them in such a compromised position. She heard the approaching boots, and she trembled. Rikter's arms tightened around her, his mouth resting against her ear. "They won't see us, trust me." Her heart thundered in her chest, and she was sure it was loud enough to be heard by the patrol coming closer.

She held her breath as the men joked in whispers to each other, passing no more than five feet from them, walking the perimeter of the camp. Her skin chilled, and Rikter's mouth moved silently against her ear, his arms enveloping her, the sheet draped around her shoulders like a cloak. Her eyes were squeezed so tightly, she saw stars dancing in her dark vision, and she bit her lip in her panic.

Then the guards were past them, moving towards the next torch. Rikter eased his grasp on her, looking at the retreating men, and he sighed softly. Tayla opened her eyes, staring at him, bewildered, her hands numb against his flesh. "Why did they not notice us?" she whispered.

Rikter gazed down at her with a smile, then placed a kiss on her forehead. "They never see what they don't want to see. It's as easy as that." He released one arm, taking a step towards the tent, pulling her with him. "Now let's get you to bed, and you can ride easier in the morning."

She laid her head against his arm as they walked, comforted by his presence, and willing to go where he lead. They spoke no more as he held the tent flap open for her, guiding her confidently back to the bed. She was suddenly drowsy as she laid down, her eyelids heavy. Rikter tucked the fur around her once more, and she was already half asleep as his lips brushed across hers. "Sleep well, my young rose," he whispered, and she did so.

Chapter 5

Tayla stirred softly, drawing a deep breath, and opening her eyes to a lamplit tent. Meghan was dressed in only a shift, brushing her hair out. The princess spied their dresses laid out across a cot, most of the tent's belongings already packed.

The flame in the lamp danced, causing something to sparkle on her pillow. She frowned, moving her head back so she was able to focus, and gasped when she saw a glass rose resting on her pillow. She smiled, plucked it from the covers and lifted it to her lips. Heat crept up her cheeks as she recalled the baron's arms around her, his fingers in her hair, his mouth caressing her lips. Most especially she recalled the heat of his mouth on hers, his tongue so tempting against hers.

Meghan glanced over and smiled faintly. "Did you sleep well, my dear?" She approached, brush still in hand, and sat on the edge of the bed as Tayla sat up. The princess nodded, holding her rose, turning so that Meghan could begin working the tangles out of her hair. "I am glad to hear that. You most certainly could use some relief."

"Last night was much better," she said lowly. She laughed to herself as she thought about being buried against the baron's chest, about the tender look on his face as he held her. Her fear evaporated as she felt his arms once more, recalled his back under her clutching hands. "I dreamt last night, but it does not matter now."

Meghan was efficient with the girl's hair, years of practice guiding her movements. She knelt behind her, and saw the rose. "And what did you do to earn that?"

Tayla brought the glass flower to her lips again, smiling. "I was scared last night, and I went running outside, and I was sick. Baron Rikter followed me, and he helped me out, and he was so very kind to me. And then I was in his arms, and he kissed me." Tayla blushed, and softly chewed her lower lip.

Meghan wrapped her arms around the girl's shoulders, kissing her hair. "Oh, my dear, was it not the most wonderful experience? I have never known a man to kiss as well as he does." She hugged the princess again, laughing. "Perhaps this shall be a fun trip after all. Someone to distract us from all our troubles."

Tayla spent the rest of the morning in a happy daze, getting dressed with Meghan's help, eating a hearty portion of the porridge and biscuits set out for them. She kept the rose beside her the entire time, glancing at it on occasion, thinking of the baron. His men came and went several times, gathering everything together, and taking it out to Rikter's wagons. Soon there remained only the table they ate at, and Tayla clutched her rose close, glancing at Meghan.

Rikter entered with his men, smiling broadly, the hood of his cloak bunched around his shoulders. Meghan practically ran to his side, clasping his hand, throwing herself against him to steal a kiss. Rikter allowed her to kiss him, but his eyes glanced to Tayla, and his smiled seemed to be only for the girl. "Everything is loaded, my sisters. Your carriage awaits you, your men anxious to be on the way. There's only mine and a couple other tents to be packed up." He bowed, gesturing to the door. "Shall we step outside and let my men do their job?"

Meghan clung to Rikter's arm, forgetting about Tayla, and the princess followed them outside. Thick clouds hung over them, light from the east trying to break through. The camp hummed with voices, horses whickered to one another, wagons creaked, the ground torn up by the trampling of feet.

Tayla shuffled forward to Rikter's side, nearly touching him, the rose clutched in her left hand, Meghan hugging him from the other side. Their carriage stood close, the driver and footman watching them, their trunks secured to the back of it. Rikter's hand brushed the girl's arm, and her nerves immediately responded. Smiling shyly, she looked up at him, but his black eyes were on the line of wagons beside their carriage. Behind them, Tayla could hear the tent being brought down.

Rikter motioned to his groom, and the young man brought forth two horses. They were tall black beasts, thick of chest and leg, long manes rippling as they tossed their heads. Rikter detached himself from Meghan, and stepped towards the massive horses. The closer of the animals trumpeted, pulling against the lead, dancing sideways. The baron laughed, taking the leather reins from the boy and pulling the horse towards him. The black beast pressed its head against his chest, nearly bowling the baron over.

Tayla could only stare as Rikter laughingly hugged the great horse, scratching underneath its harness. Meghan stepped closer, placing one arm around the girl's shoulders, clearly as in awe of the horses as Tayla was. _The knights at Father's castle had great big horses, but they were ugly beasts, with so little spirit, and they were mean. This horse seems genuinely happy to see Rikter, and it's a beautiful creature. Such grace, such power, such thick hair. Where ever did he find such wonderful mounts?_

Rikter approached, the horse nudging against him as they walked. Tayla trembled as the baron stopped before her, the horse reaching out to sniff her shirt. Meghan gave a small squeak as the black head turned towards her, sniffing her figure as well. "Sisters, may I show you the pride of my stables? This is Anye, my stallion, and this," he said as he drew the other horse closer, the boy standing to one side, "is his mare, Cehs. Never will you see a pair quite like this in these lands. Have you had the experience of riding anything so magnificent?"

Tayla fingered the rose, feeling pressured by the eyes on her, the mare whuffling at her hair. Rikter beamed at her, scratching beneath Anye's chin. The wind gusted, pulling strands of her hair with it. Cehs blinked slowly, her large eyes liquid, her nostrils flaring as she raised her nose to the girl's face. Tayla flinched, pulling back, and Rikter tugged on the mare's reins.

Meghan raised a trembling hand to Anye's head, and the stallion snorted at the handmaid, causing the woman to pull back. Rikter whispered something to the beast, and the great horse stood still. With a nod of encouragement from the baron, Meghan raised her hand again, stroking the broad space between Anye's eyes. "Our father never had anything quite like this. His horses have always been more utilitarian than beautiful."

Rikter let Cehs's reins drop, reaching out to Meghan. "Perhaps you would care to try? Cehs is a wonderful animal, and she would treat you kindly."

Tayla watched her handmaid blush and duck her head like a small girl. "I have never been that great a rider."

The baron smiled, tipping his head to one side. "Then this is the perfect time to learn. We have many long leagues before us, and this would pass the time." He smiled deeply. "Please, let me teach you how to ride. Or let me teach young Miss Tayla." He glanced sidelong at the princess, and butterflies danced in her stomach. She looked up at the horse before her, the shoulders taller than she was, and she swallowed hard.

A wave of jealousy crossed her senses, and she felt Meghan stiffen beside her. The handmaid's voice buzzed with emotion as she stepped closer to Rikter. "I would welcome your lessons." Tayla stepped back, fingers clenched tightly around her glass rose, the edges of the leaves digging into her flesh.

Rikter smiled at the woman, and guided her toward the mare. The princess watched him as he told Meghan how to mount, his hands brushing the small of her back and her hips, his mouth dipping close to her ear. Tayla bit her lip, and brought her rose to her mouth. _He is so mysterious. He is so unreadable. I cannot figure him out. Why does he stare at me so deeply, and yet he clearly flirts with my handmaid? Is he really after me? Does he want to lay with me, or is there something more? If he simply desires my body, why apologize for the kiss?_

The tent was nearly collapsed behind them, horses pulling at their traces strapped to their wagons. Meghan braced herself beside Cehs, her hands white knuckled on pommel and cantle of the saddle. Rikter was whispering to her, their carriage driver trying not to stare as Rikter stroked Meghan's hips with little movements. The princess ducked her head, breaking her view of the couple before her, and shuffled towards the carriage. She stood beside the driver bench, her head down, throat closing around the words she formed.

The driver coughed softly, then spoke. "Does the lady wish me to open the door for her?" The princess looked up, and shook her head faintly. Staring into his sunburned face, the girl finally spoke.

"I wish to ride beside you today. I would like to see the country as we travel."

He chuckled softly. "Could that have something to do with your traveling companion being distracted by the lord?"

The princess nodded slightly, continuing to hold her rose. The driver hopped to the ground with a grunt, and held out a hand to the girl. She allowed him to assist her up the bench, and she moved to one side, his thick body taking up most of the center. He spoke calmingly to the horses, who stood tossing their heads.

Meghan was laughing loudly from atop Cehs's back, Rikter holding the horse's reins, touching the handmaid's leg. Tayla did not miss the look between them, the silence building as the woman smiled at him, her cheeks flushed. The girl was twisted by a pang of jealousy, and she bit the inside of her lip, fingering the delicate edges of the rose in her hands. She drew her green eyes from them, looking across the camp, as the last of the workers secured tent rolls into wagons, mounted, and awaited the order to move out.

She heard the old man Elmer call out a command, and saw Rikter swing into the saddle of his stallion. Tayla lurched slightly as the driver clucked to the horses, and they pulled at their traces, starting the carriage forward. The clouds stirred above them, allowing a momentary lightening of the world as the caravan began to move.

The ride was boring, and yet time seemed to pass quickly. The driver said nothing to her, focusing on the horses, encouraging them through particularly rough spots. Tayla let her eyes slide closed a few times, rocking on the bench, the storm-scented breeze run fingers through her long hair.

Rikter rode beside Meghan, giving the young woman pointers, touching her, laughing with her, his cloak lying across the rump of his black stallion. Yet Tayla never once caught his gaze, never once saw his onyx eyes seeking hers. The young girl's heart ached, and she bit her lip, trying to quell her feelings.

The storm grew darker as they traveled, the wind picking up, lashing strands of her dark hair across her face. Elmer called an early stop to have a quick lunch and talk with the outriders about the condition of the trail. As the driver helped her down, Tayla heard Elmer talking with a few of the other caravan owners. "I've never seen storms like this. We're gonna be lucky to find the ford not overflowed, and we won't have to go all the way south to the next one. We're gonna lose some time, that's for sure. But I don't think we'll lose anyone on this trip."

Tayla glanced to her side, and saw Rikter assisting Meghan from the horse. She slipped the rose into the belt of her dress, and made her way with the crowd to the cook wagon. The princess followed everyone else's lead, politely accepted the stew and leftover bread, and then slipped away from the crowd. Her feet guided her, and she followed the edge of a hill, making her way to a tall tree, out of view of most of the caravan. It was quiet at the spot she chose, the voices of the people and the horses muted, the wind rustling the leaves of the tree above her. The grass was damp, but she didn't mind, and settled down, her skirts pooled beneath her.

The princess hardly tasted the stew, although it was warm and filling. After only a few bites, she drew out her rose, and gazed into its deep colors. In the dim storm light, the colors were muted, dark, with only the faintest gleam across its glass surface.

"And do you like my gift?" Baron Thatus stood above her, his cloak thrown back over his shoulders, his hair wind tossed. He smiled, and sat down beside her uninvited, his knee brushing her leg. Tayla blushed at his presence, biting her lip, looking away from his smiling face.

She spun the rose in her hands, drawing a deep breath. "I do like it. It is exquisite." Tayla turned back to the baron, smiling softly. "Thank you very much."

He smiled easily, eyes sparkling, and he ran a hand through his loose hair. The wind swirled around them for a moment, stirring the edge of his cloak, strands of hair crossing his pale face. "Think nothing of it, my sweet young rose. You more than deserve it. You deserve many fine things."

Their gazes met, and the girl blushed fiercely. Her voice was low as she spoke, trying to break away from his piercing stare. "About last night. I want you to know that I appreciate everything you did for me. It means so very much to me."

His eyes narrowed as his smile slowly faded. His voice was a husky whisper as he spoke. " _Everything_ I did for you?" Rikter leaned closer, his aura suddenly enveloping her, and her heart raced in response. She couldn't move as he touched her hand, his eyes boring into her skull.

Her cheeks flush deeper, and she leans forward to meet him, her eyes closing as he draws close. His other hand rises to brush her face, guiding her the remaining distance, his mouth latching onto hers.

The princess moans softly, barely a whisper of noise, her trembling hands rising to brace against the baron's chest. Her fingers brush strands of his hair, and she begins to open her mouth to him. His fingers stir through her hair, clasping the back of her head, and it is easy to succumb to him, to let his strength overwhelm her, to allow him to have her.

He breaks the kiss slowly, lingeringly, trailing his fingers along her ears and down her cheek. They remain close together, and she opens her eyes, barely able to make out his black-eyed gaze. Her breath is ragged, her heart clogging her throat, and she can only taste Rikter's mouth. She smiles, looking down, her hands still on his chest, and she takes a shuddering breath.

Rikter kisses her softly, pushing her back in the grass, cradling her head on his forearm, tongue dancing across her lower lip. A touch of fear races through her as he leans over her, kissing her harder, sucking at her mouth, pulling on her with his lips, and she cannot resist him. His hands begin to explore her body and she arches against him, wanting him to continue, yet afraid of what will happen.

Tayla gasped, pulling back, her cheeks flaming with heat. Her entire body shook, and she felt cold. Closing her eyes, the princess wrapped her arms around herself.

"What is it? Are you okay?" His voice was full of concern, and it reached out to the girl. He touched her shoulder, and she sobbed, collapsing against him. Rikter held her silently and stroked her arm.

When her crying subsided, Rikter ran his hand over her hair. "Are you all right, Miss Reit?"

She shook her head slowly, remaining in his arms. "I am not sure. I do not think so. I saw..." Her voice trailed off, and she bit her lip. _How much can I tell him? Or should I keep this all to myself?_ His concern was a comfort to her, and she sighed softly. "I saw you kissing me."

"Like a vision?" he questioned, tipping her face towards his. His black eyes were bright with curiosity, despite the darkness of the day.

Tayla nodded, grasping at that idea. "But I have never had them before. Even my dreams have never been so...visceral, so tangible. I really thought..." She blushed, looking away from him.

She could almost feel his grin as he touched her hair again, bordering to possessive. "You really thought I was kissing you again?" His voice dropped to a husky purr, wringing a gasp from the girl. "Does that mean you want me to? I would be more than happy to oblige."

"Do you think I am so easy that all it takes to woo me is a kiss?" she blurted out, voice barely above a whisper. She turned her head to glare at him, noting the smug tilt of his lips. "Do you think I am so easily attainable when you already lying with my sister?"

The baron's noble face fell suddenly. He pulled away, brows nearly touching with his sorrow, the corners of his mouth down turned. Tayla felt his regret cut through her, and she gasped at the reaction, reaching out to him. Rikter pulled away, his arms wrapped around his chest. "My lord?" she whispered, reaching again to grasp his shoulder.

The baron rose swiftly, looking down disconsolately at her. "Your pardons, Miss Reit. I did forget myself, and I am sorry that I was so forward." He bent stiffly at the waist, and kept his gaze away from her. "I will wait for you back at the caravan."

She jumped to her feet as he started walking away, her heart in her throat. Her stomach was a pit of ice, and she was unaware of her movements. A quick stride and she was behind him, grabbing at his wrist, pulling him back around towards her. His hair danced in the wind as he turned, scooping her into his arms, mouth devouring hers. She wrapped an arm around him, kissing him back as fierce, relishing the taste of his tongue invading her mouth. Her heart raced, a moan formed deep in her chest, and she pressed her body tight against him.

One hand gripped the small of her back, the other ran through her tangled hair. He sighed into her mouth, his breath warm against her cheek, body trembling in response to her touch. He broke the kiss, his thumb stroking her cheek. She sighed, a shiver racing up her spine, glad for the baron's arm holding her up. Rikter kissed the tip of her nose, and he moved his hand to her mouth. "Why, Miss Reit? Why?"

Tayla blinked up at him, her face pale, lips parted faintly, and shook her head faintly. "I do not know exactly. I just...I just could not let you walk away like that."

Rikter smiled, his entire face lighting up. The hand in the small of her back twitched, fingertips digging faintly into her flesh. "You confuse me, sweet young rose." The baron ran his hand through her hair, closing his eyes for a moment. The moment lengthened, the wind wrapping them in its arms, and the princess let herself snuggle closer against him.

His voice was hardly above a whisper when he next spoke. "Would you allow me the honor of courting you? Let me do it properly, let me show you that I don't think you're just some swift little floosey. Please, my rose, please?"

The princess frowned, shivering in his grasp, captivated by his gaze, by the blush spreading across his high cheekbones. _He wants to court me? Why would he do that? He had no intentions of courting Meghan, simply let himself in to her bed. Would he have done the same to me had I not protested?_

Baron Thatus leaned forward, his warm mouth brushing her ear as he whispered. "You're different from your sister, and you know it." With a smile, he straightened. "Allow me to escort you back to your carriage. We have time yet for your answer."

Chapter 6

Tayla glared defiantly at her handmaid, dress loose around her torso, her hair piled messily on top of her head. "I accepted his invitation to dinner, and I am going. You are not going to stop me." The heat of her anger filled her cheeks with blood. She and Meghan had been arguing for the last ten minutes, as the girl attempted to dress herself for a private dinner with Rikter.

Meghan's jaw was clenched as she glared at the girl. "This is not appropriate. You should not go unescorted to dinner with a man. What would your parents think?"

Tayla took a deep breath and dropped to the cot, pulling her bathroom kit to her side. She looked away from the handmaid, counting slowly to herself. _I have never seen her so vehement about something. Is this some sort of jealousy about Baron Thatus seemingly spurning her? Is she really just being protective of my honor, or is she trying to keep the baron all to herself?_

The princess looked up, a strand of hair coming loose, and she felt calmer as she spoke again. "I know that my parents would be wary of me going to dinner with him without a chaperon, but we are safe within this caravan. Guards are all around us, all within reach if I need them. It is just dinner. You know I am not the kind of girl to compromise my honor with something like dinner."

Meghan came close, her boot heels shuffling through the fur rug. She touched Tayla's face as the girl looked up, and took a deep breath. "My darling princess, when I said that Rikter would be a fun experience, I never meant for you to begin a courtship. What exactly are you going to do when we part ways? You have other things to think about at the end of this journey."

Tayla lowered her eyes, lower lip trembling as despair swallowed her soul. "At the end of this journey, I face the attentions of an old man. I know that. I very much know where my duty lies, and what I must do." She glanced up, tears swimming in her eyes. "Father and Mother never gave me enough freedom to show them I was trustworthy. I know how to handle myself, and how to behave. I know this can be nothing more than an interlude. Please, let me have this one brief pleasure."

Meghan's face crumpled, and she enveloped Tayla in her plump arms as she sat on the bed beside the girl. "Oh, you poor dear. You _have_ thought this through, and you do understand it." She kissed the girl's hair. "I should not stand in your way. You are smart enough to handle this." Meghan chuckled lowly, tipping the girl's face towards her. "Just make sure to not break his heart."

Tayla smiled, a single tear spilling down her cheek. She wrung her hands around the handle of her hair brush, heart swelling with relief. The girl quietly let Meghan finish dressing her, the handmaid swiftly doing her hair. When finished, Tayla was happy as she could remember being for a long time. Meghan hugged her again, smiling wistfully. "I hope he makes you as happy as he has made me."

Tayla looked deeply at her friend, perplexed by the sudden change in the handmaid. _I have never seen her so quicksilver in her moods. From anger to acceptance to encouragement, in such a short space of time. Is it her own desire for the man? Is it something deeper? Will she ever mention this again?_

Further thoughts were interrupted as one of their guards called to them from outside. "Miss Tayla, Baron Thatus is here to see you." Tayla blushed, and tipped her head towards her handmaid. Meghan touched her cheeks, then squeezed the girl's shoulders. "You do not want to make him wait, do you? Hurry up, my darling."

She strode out of the tent, nodding an acknowledgment to her guard, looking up to her waiting date. The baron stood tall in polished heeled boots, his pants softly brushed suede, his shirt a billowing affair of silk and lace. Everything he wore was black, the torches lighting it with orange. The spill of lace at his neck was pinned closed by a large jet rose, sparkling in the dancing light. Even his hair sparkled, the length of it held back with oil, the touch of the product causing it to curl across his shoulders and down his back.

Tayla stood still, stuck admiring the baron, and blushed slightly. The baron bowed deeply, holding his hand out to her. The princess reached for his broad fingers, and let him draw her soft hand to his mouth. The girl shivered as he kissed her knuckles, lips warm as they caressed her flesh. Her heart was racing as he straightened, taking the step necessary to close the distance between them. He kept her hand, thumb slowly tracing her knuckles, and tipped his head down towards her.

"You look lovely, sweet young rose." His voice was a purr, and his scent enveloped her. She breathed deep of it, like night rain and dark forests. It drew her interest to the surface, and the girl allowed herself to step closer to him, her skirts brushing his boots.

"Thank you, my lord." She blushed softly, tipping her head sideways, strands of her hair brushing across bared shoulders. "You look quite striking yourself tonight."

He bent forward, mouth close to hers, and whispered, "Anything for you, Miss Tayla." Then his soft lips brushed her mouth, warm and delicious, and the girl shivered with delight. He straightened up, pulling her arm over his, drawing her to his side. "Let us away, then."

The dazed young princess followed the baron through the camp. She could hear the nearby river rushing across the rocks, waters swollen with rain, and she shivered. The princess had seen the ford when they stopped for the evening, the water lapping high along the shores. Elmer had been surprised by the amount of water, saying he'd never seen the river this high. They could not cross tonight, not all of them, and they made camp then. The old caravan leader was working out how they could safely cross in the morning, several of the other experienced drivers planning with him.

She wrapped her other hand around Rikter's arm, pressing her body against him. Tayla was content this close to him, his scent filling her nostrils, his stride causing him to rub against her side. The girl rested her head on his shoulder, and she heard him sigh happily. She followed him past tents and wagons, beyond the picket lines of horses, and away from the light of the torches. The girl did not question him about their destination, trusting him completely. She eyed the tatters of clouds above, stars winking at them through the wavering gaps. The moon was a thin crescent, silvering the edges.

They stopped beneath a willow tree, just beyond the ring of torches, the river damping the noise of the camp. A deep blue blanket lay across the damp ground, porcelain plates beside a hamper, a small candelabra flickering in the breeze. Tayla gasped faintly, shocked by the seeming elaborate spread, and numbly allowed Rikter to draw her beneath the willow branches, the soft leaves tracing loving fingers across her. The princess folded to the ground, her legs tucked beside her, skirts pooled around her, and watched the baron kneel beside the hamper. She gazed around their private dining room as he unpacked their dinner. She saw lightning dance through a distant storm, and shivered briefly.

Then Rikter was touching her shoulders, setting one plate before her, and the girl turned to look up into his face. It was blank, his eyes dark pools, and she could read no emotion from it. She felt nothing but the mass of his body as he knelt by her, waiting patiently for her to take the meal. The girl couldn't take her eyes from as she reached for the silverware beside her setting. The baron blinked slowly, then moved to his own plate.

The girl broke his gaze, and looked down. She felt exposed as she leaned forward to take a bite of the vegetables, and blushed. Rikter's gaze was heavy on her, and, in the leafy enclosure, it seemed the world was only the two of them. She could easily forget everything that had happened early today. Licking her lips shyly, the princess looked up to meet the baron's eyes.

He had his head cocked slightly, almost contemplating her as she ate, a single strand of hair touching his face as the wind toyed with it. He grasped his fork, but had yet to touch his food. Tayla sat up straight, bringing the fine napkin to her mouth, and spoke softly. "Does my lord not wish to dine?"

His sultry voice brought chills up her spine. "I am dining. No one fills my senses like you do." He slid across the blanket, sitting sideways beside her, and his mouth danced across her shoulder. Tayla sighed, the shiver that passed through her pressing her closer to the baron. She felt his arm bracing him behind her, the strength keeping her upright as she leaned against him. His mouth moved up to her collarbone, tongue darting out to caress her skin, and the girl cried out softly.

The baron stopped, meeting her eyes, voice contrite. "My apologies, fair rose. But you are like a dream." His other hand rose to her cheek, thumb brushing her chin. "I fear waking and not having you beside me."

Tayla's mouth went suddenly dry, and she licked her lips, trying to gain some moisture. She could taste the man's flavor, and it warmed her insides. She wanted more of it, yet forced herself to keep her hands clenched in her lap. _This is exactly what Meghan was afraid of. He is too tempting when this close. No one should be this sensual and delightful._ The girl closed her eyes, and turned her head down demurely.

"You are kind to say so, my lord." Tayla had no idea what she would say next as she opened her mouth, and was surprised by her words. "I confess you remind me of dreams I have had all my life. So long I have seen myself being taken away by some dark stranger. During the day it scares me, but at night it is all I desire." She opened her eyes, and stared at him, tears swelling in her vision. "I have never told anyone that," she whispered, lost in the onyx pools of her host's eyes.

He leaned forward, kissing her sharply, his mouth hungry and fierce. Tayla melted against him, her heart leaping to her throat, and she buried her hands in the lace at his chest. She felt safe in his embrace as he held her into the kiss, his lips searing her flesh. Warmth tingled throughout her body as her belly clenched.

The kiss ended as suddenly as it had started, but the baron kept his arm around her shoulders. They were both breathing hard, Tayla's heart racing as she stared meekly into his face. _Could I stop him if he pressed his advantage? Do I want him to?_

His accent was stronger as he spoke, his words quiet, his voice deep in his chest. "I could take you away from this. I would make you my lady, and you would never have to fear your dreams again. Come with me." His words became urgent, and he drew her against his chest. Tayla whimpered softly as his lips brushed her cheek, Rikter's arms wrapping around her slender waist. "Tayla...little rose...young one, I will fulfill your dreams if you but ask." His mouth was warm and hungry as he kissed her ear, moving down her neck. Tayla sighed as he kissed the skin behind her ear, lips stroking the vein in her throat, the lace of his shirt rustling against her. "Just ask me to, and I will take you away."

The princess shivered as he drew her into his lap, her arms slowly wrapping around his chest. Rikter opened his mouth against her neck, and the girl arched in surprise as nerves raced at the touch of his tongue. His arms tightened, keeping her in place, and she heard his raspy breath as he ran his mouth along the underside of her chin. The ends of his oiled hair were beneath her hands, and she tangled her fingers into it, trying to keep a sense of equilibrium. Her breath raced from her lungs with each touch of the baron, and her head began to spin.

Without thinking, the girl tipped her head down, claiming the man's mouth with her own. He paused, gasping as she kissed him with the raging passion stirring in her heart. Rain-scented wind stirred the willow tree, causing the girl to shiver with the sudden chill. Tayla pulled back from the kiss, and saw the look on Rikter's face.

His eyes were large as he gazed at her, one of his hands lifting to the back of her neck. Her skin felt too tight, and hunger built in her chest. It was nothing she had ever felt before, and the desire hiding in the depths of Rikter's eyes was only making it stronger.

_It could happen so quickly. I could tell him yes, and I could let him have me right here. We would not return to the camp, and we could run for his manse. He could have me like he had Meghan the other night._ Heat rose slowly in her face, and the girl raised a hand to trace the baron's flushed lips. He closed his eyes, letting the tip of his tongue dance across her fingertips, dancing across her nerves as well. _All I have to say is yes, and he will have me._

Biting her lip, the girl slid one finger into his mouth. The baron stilled, holding her carefully, his eyes fluttering open. Tayla stared at him, her loins tingling as his tongue trembled beneath her finger. She could feel all of him trembling beneath her, his teeth grazing her knuckle. His hand at the back of her neck began moving softly, his nails grazing her goose pimpled skin.

Tayla leaned forward suddenly, her mouth diving to his neck, drawing her nail swiftly from his mouth. Rikter cried out, his hands twitching against her, his back arching as she nipped at his skin. Her finger stung from dragging it against his teeth, but she dismissed it as she tasted cologne on his skin. She felt him breathing hard against her chest, and she shifted in his lap, then moved back from his neck.

His mouth was slack, his eyes clenched tight, eyebrows drawn together with a neat furrow. His hands were hard on her, almost painfully so, but the girl didn't care. She was caught up in the moment, and she reveled in his desire. It seared through her suddenly, a lingering spark where her mouth had been at his neck, hunger lashing in her chest. She could feel herself holding her own slight form, and her head spun with the double sensation. The girl whimpered, moving to kiss him again, ready to speak the words he wanted.

Horses screamed loudly, breaking the moment as the girl looked up. The wind had stilled, and as she listened, human screams drifted across the night. Her blood turned cold as she looked towards the camp, seeing fires flaring against tents. Tayla pushed away from her suitor, rising to her feet, taking a step closer. She saw dark figures against the fires, mounted on thick horses, weapons held overhead.

_Weapons, horses, fires...those are raiders. The camp is under attack. Meghan is under attack._ She whimpered, clutching a hand to her throat, and stumbled forward several steps.

Rikter was suddenly pressed against her back, his arms around her waist. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked in a harsh whisper. "Let the guards take care of it. You'll only get hurt if you go there."

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she struggled in his arms. "Meghan is in there. She is alone, and she needs me. She will be worried." Her voice rose with frustration, and she whimpered with her struggles.

Rikter held her tighter, drawing her back against the tree. "They don't know we're here. We're safe. Just stay with me."

His last words chilled her, and Tayla stopped moving. _He has a point. There would be nothing easier than staying right here._ Another scream crossed the night, along with the sharp sounds of swords clashing.

Yet that scream could be Meghan. I need to be with her, so she does not worry about me.

"Let me go," she whispered. "I need to find Meghan, and then I will be back."

His arms loosened, then dropped to his side. Tayla looked over her shoulder, and saw the tragic look on his face. "If you wish, my young rose. Do what you need to." His eyes were closed as she ran off, holding her skirts out of her way.

Chapter 7

Rikter quickly left her thoughts as she approached the chaotic camp. Horses ran riderless through flaming tents, and Tayla saw the raiders fighting with the guards. More guards ran by, heading towards a charge of the brigands. The princess darted between tents, avoiding people, making her way towards her tent. It was a blur of action she could hardly see, and the girl was almost surprised when she darted through the flaps of the tent.

Meghan stood in the middle of the floor, strapping a long dagger to her hip, her hair pulled back in a sharp tail. Her drawn face showed sudden relief as she welcomed the sobbing girl into her arms. She kissed the top of the princess's head, blowing a sigh into her hair. "I was hoping you were safe, but I did not expect to see you here," the handmaid whispered.

Tayla looked up at her friend, tears streaking her cheeks, loose strands of hair sticking to the wetness. "Rikter wanted me to stay with him, but I had to come back to you," the girl whispered.

Meghan nodded, smiling faintly, and took the girl's wrist. "You made a very brave choice, coming into the camp. But now we have to get back out as bravely." She headed towards the opening. "Stay close, my dear."

The camp had become worse since Tayla slipped inside the tent. A horse was screaming fearfully, and the princess could see it tangled in the ropes of a burning tent. At its feet, bodies lay broken and bloody. Someone was shouting orders, and swords still clashed, and the girl could not tell who was winning. Smoke choked the air, and tears instantly ran down her cheeks as she coughed.

Meghan led them towards the edge of the camp, keeping them in the shadows, head darting around as she listened for the raiders. She had drawn the long knife, holding it before her as she led them. A horse leapt into their path, and Tayla cried out as it reared before them. A shaggy figure rode the beast, and he laughed as he spied the girls. Meghan brandished the knife, then pushed Tayla backwards. The princess screamed when another figure rode from the tent beside them, a bloody axe in the rider's hand. Meghan hissed, Tayla pressed tight against her back, and held her ground.

A third and fourth rider approached, the riders laughing between themselves, and Meghan suddenly trembled. Tayla held closer to her, crying, and watched as the woman lowered her knife. The first rider dismounted, striding up and taking Meghan's knife from her. With a snarl, he backhanded the handmaid, driving her to the ground, and Tayla sobbed.

_I should have stayed with the baron. Surely he will come to get me when I do not return._ The girl shook nervously as the brigands approached her, unable to move. Two of them surrounded her, one grabbing her about the wrists, lashing a rough hempen rope around them, the other sniffing her long hair. A low whimper came from her throat, and the men laughed at her, talking to themselves in their own language. The one behind her grabbed her by the neck, steering her towards their leader. The third raider was tying Meghan's wrists together, the handmaid glaring at the scarred man.

The raider who had first cut them off was still ahorse, watching the women with a gleam in his eyes, his thick brow casting dark shadows down his face. The screams were dying down around them, sobs slowly drifting through the darkness, and even the tortured horse was silent. Tayla sobbed to herself, green eyes wide as she looked around desperately for rescue. The calloused hand on her neck shoved her forward, and she had no choice but to let him lead her through the wreckage of the caravan camp.

The princess trembled as she walked, and shook with shock. Her body was numb; even the bite of the rope around her slender wrists didn't cut through her nerves. Distantly she was aware of the bodies strewn everywhere, the reek of blood and burning flesh and evacuated bowels on the night air, the crackle of flames, and the heavy stamp of the shaggy raider horses. She sniffled, and glanced at her handmaid. Meghan was walking stiffly, head held high, her jaw set defiantly. The princess wished briefly she could share in the older woman's attitude. Instead, her heart ached, and she cursed her fate.

The brigands brought them to a gathering of other captives, and Tayla was shoved to the ground. She slumped down, eyes downcast, and barely felt the warmth of her handmaid beside her. Meghan rested her hand on the girl's shoulder comfortingly, watching over them. The girl began to sob in earnest, and Meghan pulled her across her lap. "Hush, my sweetling. Do not let them see any weakness. They have kept us alive for a reason. Show them strength, show them you are not afraid, and they will begin to fear you." The handmaid leaned down, and kissed the side of Tayla's head. "Can you do that, young one?"

Tayla drew a shuddering breath, and wiped at her tears. "I think I can," she whispered. The princess took another shuddering breath, sitting up. She couldn't stop shivering, looking at the faces around her. They were as drawn and weak as she felt, some eyes blank, a few glaring at those who moved through the camp. Tayla saw a few guards, blood staining their clothes, their hands tied behind their backs. Several women huddled against each other, taking comfort in touch, clothes torn and soot mingling with their tears. The princess saw caravan leaders, cooks, horse boys, drivers, and other miscellaneous persons of the train. In each face, she saw as much pain and numbness as she felt.

Raiders were still bringing prisoners forward, others sorting through the wagons. Crates and chests were strewn on the ground, broken, their goods scattered as well. The apparent leader of the raiders was resting in one of Elmer's camp chair, his feet propped upon a headless corpse, sucking deeply at a skin of wine. He barked out orders, and Tayla watched as their attackers reloaded certain goods onto empty wagons.

Time passed as the captives shivered in the ruins of the camp. The leader ordered a fire built, and it helped ward off the chill. Some of the survivors had fallen asleep, and some were mumbling to each other. Meghan stroked Tayla's hair as the girl lay restless against her. _How did it come to this?_ she asked herself. _Rikter asked me to stay with him, to let him protect me. And I could not stay. I chose to come to Meghan, and now I lay bound by brigands, wishing he will come save me._

But is he going to come for me? He looked so sad when I left him. Would it even be possible for him to save me?

Tayla stiffened as one of the bandits approached, a pack slung over his shoulder, a bucket of water slopping in his hand. He said nothing, throwing the pack to the ground, setting the water down roughly. He leered at one of the women, licking his lips until the leader shouted at him, and the brigand wandered away.

One of the horse boys was the first to move towards the pack, and the captives glanced at him eagerly. He pulled salted beef from the pack, and a cup to dip in the water. The boy moved swiftly to the water, and drank deeply. Other prisoners came close, muttering for their turn to drink. Tayla moved forward with Meghan, and the water spilled delightfully across her lips. It was cold, and refreshing, and the girl felt restored. She picked up a piece of salt beef, and sat beside Meghan, chewing slowly. Some of the other captives were helping the guards to drink and eat, and a semblance of cheer came to the huddled group.

An old guard groaned as he chewed on the salt beef, stretching as best as he could, a little blood drying on his cheek. "We need to find a way to escape," he muttered. "These beasts are likely to sell us at the southern black markets. Can't let that happen." His old brown eyes glanced at Tayla and Meghan, and he grimaced. "Girls like you won't want that. None of you girls will want that."

Tayla dipped her head, blushing, catching his reference. Meghan had told her of her life before her family came to court, and the girl understood what was likely to happen to young beautiful females without an escort. She could only imagine how poorly it would go for her in a slave market.

Meghan leaned closer to the guard. "I have a small knife in my boot. While they are all busy sorting through the caravan goods, we could cut our way free."

The guard smiled. "I like the way you think, girl. But we need to provide some kind of distraction. I doubt that lazy ass of a leader they have is going to take his eyes off of us. But if we wait until he gets to sleep, they'll have just a few guards over us, and we can make an escape then. But we'll have to move fast."

An older woman, her face lined with long years on the road, voiced her concern. "They've kept us unmolested so far. They'll not truly want to take us towards the slave markets. More likely they'll let us go when they're done, and they'll simply take our goods."

"They're not gonna let us go," the guard replied, pulling against his bonds, testing the rope. "They'll not want anyone who could finger them later. If they don't sell us, they'll slit our throats. We won't survive if we don't make a stand now."

"Some people already made a stand," a young boy whined. "And they all ended up dead."

The guard had nothing to say to that, but turned towards Meghan. "As soon as you can, slip me that knife, girl. I'll start loosening my bonds, and get ready to make our break."

Meghan nodded her head, glancing over to the drunken leader. She moved closer to the guard, helping him get another mouthful of meat, placing her left boot against his bound hands. Tayla watched as he fumbled beneath the woman's skirts, and finally drew the knife. He kept his hands under her skirts, slowly sawing at his bonds. The raiders continued to move around them, ignoring them, laughing back and forth, shouting commands, digging through trade goods.

The princess was achy and tired, almost ready to fall asleep despite the danger, when she heard a rattle approaching. Every head turned towards the noise, and several of the prisoners gasped as they watched two wheeled cages rumble up, drawn by massive oxen. The leader rose to his feet as the cages stopped, and he began shouting commands to the drivers. Raiders stopped sorting goods to approach the prisoners. Tayla whimpered as the dirty men began to loom over them, and one of the other women screamed as she was grabbed.

The guard leapt to his feet, brandishing Meghan's knife, attacking the nearest raider. Tayla scrambled back, avoiding the tussle, yet blood sprayed across her anyway. She screamed, and could not look away as the guard slit the throat of the bandit, moving on to the next one. Swords were drawn, and the princess watched as the fight became a savage butchery. She began sobbing as the guard was cut down, and she heard someone else wretch.

The lead brigand strode amongst the prisoners, his sword dripping blood. "Who helped him?" he shouted, pointing at the prisoners. "He had no knife. We searched. So who helped?"

No one said anything, but there was a chorus of screams and sobs as he went along, droplets spreading everywhere. Finally, he loomed over Meghan and Tayla, his eyes staring dangerously down at the handmaid. "You. You were with him. I saw him next to you. You gave him knife."

Meghan glared at him defiantly as he stroked her cheek with his sword. She pulled away when he pressed the tip against her neckline, laughing as the blood soaked into her clothes. "What say you? You not give knife?"

Meghan sneered. "Maybe I did," she snarled. "What are you going to do about it?"

The raider's eyes narrowed, and he muttered something in his native language. Two of the raiders moved forward, gripping Meghan by her arms, pulling her to her feet. The leader snarled, but said nothing more to her, and the rough men drug her back to one of the cages. Meghan winced, but made no sound as they flung her to the floor or the cage, her legs banging against the door. She sat up, face still a sneer, glaring back at the leader.

The men returned for Tayla, and she whimpered in fear as they stooped to grab her. They were much gentler with her, helping her into the cage, rather than throwing her. The princess threw herself against Meghan, and the woman wrapped her bound arms around her. The raiders closed and locked the cage, then moved to their remaining survivors. Every raider grabbed a prisoner, moving them to the other cage, loading them in swiftly. Once the second cage was locked, the raiders began scrambling to load the rest of the trade goods they had sorted.

Meghan stroked Tayla's back. "Try to get some sleep," she murmured to Tayla. "We are not going anywhere any time soon, so you should get what rest you can. We shall find a way out."

Tayla nodded her head slowly, and closed her eyes. She thought she was too stressed to fall asleep, but soon found herself drifting into unconsciousness.

Darkness laps at her, clinging to her clothes and skin, trying to sneak into her mouth. It tastes of smoke, and bringst tears to her eyes. She sobs, spits, tries to wade through the darkness. It slips from her for a moment, and she takes another step, trying to find any direction where the darkness isn't.

She sees lumps in the darkness, and stumbles against one. A woman cries out, and she pulls back from the lump, the darkness parting for that moment. She sees a wounded woman, dressed only in tatters, her skin almost sloughing off as she writhes on the ground. Then the darkness washes back over the woman, and the girl stumbles away.

Her own sobs echo back at her, but they sound mocking to her. They hound her, and the darkness ripples with the sound. She screams as something slimy touchs her ankle, and she starts running. The darkness becomes jealous then, and pulls hard at her feet, attempting to keep her in place.

A voice whispers to her, gentle and warm and loving in her ear. "Come to me." She looks around, pausing, and the darkness takes that moment to creep up her skirts. She darts forward, still looking for the voice, when he speaks to her again.

" _Look harder, my dear. I am waiting for you."_

His voice is a goad to her, and her heart begins to thunder in her ears. She wants to find him, wants him to pull her from all this darkness. Yet the Stygian blackness thwarts her desire, confusing her senses. She whimpers as she runs, biting her lip, and finally stops. The darkness swarms against her, trying to pull her to the ground, and she cries out.

" _Where are you!" Her voice echoes back at her, and she sobs, nails digging into the palm of her hands. Her chest aches with the strength of her sobs, and her tears burn down her cheeks._

His voice seems sad as he speaks again. "You must find me. Would you give up so easily?"

The darkness finds its way into her nose, cutting off her cries. She tries to pull away, but it's going inside her mouth, winding around her neck, pulling at her hair. She wants to cry out again as the darkness parts, revealing a vision of the speaker. He shakes his head softly, and lets the darkness enclose him again.

Wolves howl in the distance, and the little girl's heart leaps to her throat. Her skin becomes covered in goose pimples, and she shivers as the wind skirls through the winter bare trees. Her silken slippers snag on the rocks and roots as she stumbles forward. A tear slips coldly down her cheek, and she bites at her lip.

Moonlight gleams ahead, the angry branches of the trees clawing at it in jealousy. Something scurries through the underbrush, and the little girl whimpers, clinging to her protector; a threadbare stuffed rabbit She stops for that moment, smelling the scent of roses trapped in his fabric, then makes her way forward. The wolves howl again, closer this time, and the little girl thinks she hears them close by.

The trees seem to close in around her, getting between her and the moonlight. She whimpers as crooked branches tug at her hair and scratch at her skirts. She presses through them, her eyes locked on the moonlight, and she even feels them tugging at her stuffed rabbit. A wordless cry escapes her lips, and she feels blood trickle down one cheek as the branches became more frantic.

The girl gasps as she sees movement ahead in the light. A tall figure, draped in a long cloak, shadows clinging to him lovingly. His eyes gleam like jewels for a moment, beckoning her closer, and she struggles to move. She fights fiercely through the trees, and stumbles to her knees, crying out as small rocks bruise her tender flesh. He waits for her still, and she struggles to her feet again.

The figure holds a hand out to her, and she runs towards him, feeling the sharp branches tear her skin. She doesn't care; she only wants to be in the light with him, wants to nestle in his arms and have him protect her. In her heart she knows he willd keep the wolves from her, that he will love her and cherish her always, giving her the love she needs so much. But she has to get to him first.

She hears sharp snarls approaching her, and she begins crying with frustration. Why isn't he coming to get her? Why is he leaving her to fend for herself? She is so young and little, she can't possibly take care of herself. She needs him, needs him to come scoop her up into his strong arms and make the wolves go away.

A shaggy beast jumps onto the path before her, and the girl screams-

Tayla jumped, gasping as she came suddenly awake. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and Meghan was still holding her. The girl blinked her eyes, blinded by the light streaming through tattered storm clouds, and tried to rub at her face. The rope around her wrists had dug deep into her flesh, and her hands were now numb.

"You were having one of your dreams," Meghan said matter-of-factly, running fingers through Tayla's curls. "You were sobbing in your sleep."

Tayla remained curled up with her head in Meghan's lap, trying to deny the cage around her. "It was horrible. I kept waiting to be rescued, but no one was coming." The princess glanced at her handmaid. "We will be rescued, correct?"

Meghan's face was grim as she watched the bandits still moving around them. Horses whickered, and the river gurgled to itself as the morning awoke. Tayla smelled smoke still in the air, and the occasional puff of something fouler. Someone in the other wagon cried brokenly, their voice hoarse as if they'd been at it for a while. The raider's voices were strident in the early morning air, and the princess wished she could go back to sleep.

The handmaid's long silence spoke much to Tayla. She sat up with a sniffle, and glanced around her. Charred remains of tents and bodies lay everywhere, the corpse of the guard who had attempted escape lying on the ground where he had fallen. Several wagons stood loaded beside the cages, horses back in the harness, drivers standing beside them. "No one is going to rescue us," the young woman said softly.

Meghan sighed, and laid a kiss on her ward's shoulder. "Your father planned to send guards trailing us, to ensure nothing happened, that he would be in contact with us. They will find this slaughter. They will know."

Tayla turned, hearing hesitancy in her friend's voice, and frowned. "But will they be able to follow us?"

Meghan looked away for a moment, then back at the young princess. "I heard some of the bandits speaking about the slave markets in the south. It would take some time to get there with these wagons, so there is always hope that your father's men will find us. It would be near impossible to hide these wagons." Her mouth grew tense as she drew a deep breath. "We will be found."

Listlessly, Tayla rested her head back in Meghan's lap. The young girl lacked the desire to eat when the bandits brought them some runny porridge, letting Meghan feed her some of it. She dozed, the sounds of the camp invading her dreams, and tossed back and forth. She rose in the midmorning, and awkwardly managed to use the bucket in the corner to relieve herself. Tayla's tears blurred her vision as she glanced to the other wagon, full of the remaining caravan people. They could barely move, and the princess felt a pang of sympathy for them. But it lasted only for a moment as she resumed her position on the floor of the wagon.

Princess Tayla fell into a stupor, and wanted nothing more. Meghan stroked her shoulder, murmuring to her on occasion, the handmaid watching the bandits finishing their duties and mounting up. Tayla barely noticed when the wagon started moving, the big oxen pulling it to the river edge. The wheels jostled up the ramp of a large ferry, shaking the girl, and still she didn't move.

The day passed as a blur, Tayla dozing, watching the sun through the bars of the cage. Meghan hissed in shock in the mid afternoon when the small caravan turned south. The girl thought she asked what was wrong, but she could have been dreaming. As the sun went down, the girl heard the dream voice calling her, offering to help her.

Tayla woke at dusk, tears staining her cheeks, as the wagons drew to a halt. A fire was just flaring up, licking at old logs, the light lost in the glow of the setting sun. Meghan leaned against the edge of the wagon, her eyes closed, hands lying reddened in her lap. Tayla hunched forward, resting head on drawn up knees, and drew a shuddering breath.

The handmaid spoke in a low voice, shifting beside the princess. "They will not travel at night, for some reason. I heard the other wagon begging for release, and the bandits beat them. They are taking very little care of them. Not how they should be treating potential slaves."

Tayla turned her head, glancing at her friend. "Will they really sell us as slaves?" Her voice was cracked, her throat and mouth parched.

Meghan watched a tent being erected. "I cannot say. They may ransom the two of us. There is some reason they are keeping us separate."

"But does it matter?" Tayla whispered, burying her face once more. _Does anything matter anymore?_

Night crept swiftly across the autumn sky, bringing a chill with it. Meghan drew the princess into her arms, holding her for warmth. One of the highwaymen brought them stew for dinner, with some hard bread, and the princess stiffened at the look in his dark eyes. Tayla buried her face against her friend, not wanting to look out at the darkness surrounding them.

Meghan fed them both, and time passed. Tayla was slumped beside her when the handmaid began calling for the raid leader's attention. She looked up at the older woman, wondering what she planned. "Are you even listening? I demand you let us bathe ourselves. And change this bucket of waste, it is becoming intolerable. Come fix this right now!"

The tall brigand finally rose from his place beside the fire, already rosy cheeked from drinking, and stalked to their cage. He glared at Meghan at first, his body odor strong on the evening wind, the poor quality beer mixing with the reek. "What you want?" he slurred.

Meghan drew herself up as tall as she could. "I want a bath. I want a new chamber pot. And I want better food."

The brigand leaned against the bars, laughing deep in his chest. "And what you give Roric to do this?"

Meghan's nostrils flared. "I will not give you a fight from here to our destination."

He laughed again, showing his yellowed teeth. "I already have this. Give me something else."

She turned her head demurely, murmuring to her captor. "You can take whatever you want from us. We have nothing to give."

Roric paused for a moment, his face screwed tight with concentration as he replayed her words in his mind. Then he reached for the lock, drawing the keys from his belt. "You a smart woman. You know how it is." Then he reached for Tayla.

The princess stiffened, pulling back, her face paling with terror. Meghan laid her hands on the brigand's wrists, whispering forcefully. "You are taking both of us, yes?" There was a desperate tone to her voice that the girl didn't understand.

He snarled in the handmaid's face, ripe breath roiling around her. "I take girl first, then you. You think you so clever." He tugged Tayla out of the cage, and the girl fell to the ground in a puddle, landing hard on her side. "She will keep you safe," he laughed, locking the cage again.

He reached down, and pulled the girl to her feet. Tayla stumbled numbly after him, her hip and shoulder aching where she had struck the ground. Roric led her from the camp, along a dirt path towards a gurgling stream. The sky was covered with dark clouds, and Tayla stumbled along the path, the darkness enclosing her, adding to her fear.

They stopped before a deep stream, and the brigand reached for her clothes. "You cannot," she gasped, stepping back from him, terror causing her heart to leap into her throat. A whimper rose from her chest as he caught her in rough hands, pulling her closer, his breath assailing her senses.

"But I can, wench. And I want to." He leered, running thick fingers across her cheek, and Tayla ripped her head away from his touch. In response, he grabbed her hair, forcing her to look at him. With a snarl he grabbed the front of her dress, ripping it, exposing her underclothes. Tayla cried out, tears springing suddenly to her eyes, heart hammering against her chest. Her limbs were numb as he reached for her shift, tearing the linen easily, his eyes hungrily following the contour of her pale skin.

The brigand gurgled suddenly, and something hot and thick splattered across Tayla's face. The girl gasped, a hot copper scent filling her nostrils, as her would-be rapist fell to his knees. She saw a glint of metal, the crossguard of a blood-drenched sword, and then she saw a silver mask looming directly before her. Tayla whimpered once as the blade moved between them.

Chapter 8

The sword was sticky as it sliced through the ropes at her wrist, smearing blood across her numb skin. Tayla wavered, nearly falling, but the stranger placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, keeping her upright. Her hands sprang to painful life as the ropes fell to the ground, and she whimpered again.

Her rescuer said nothing, merely reached from her shoulder to stroke her face, wiping blood from it. Tayla stood trembling as he knelt momentarily, cleaning his blade on Roric's tunic, claiming the keys and coin purse attached to the ruffian's belt. When he rose, Tayla continued to stare in awe at him. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, then took her wrist. She followed him docilely, too numb to refuse as he guided her back to the raider camp.

Screams and laughter assaulted her as they stepped into the light. Meghan was pressed against the bars of the cage, shrieking for the men to stop, and the other prisoners were rocking the cage in their fury to escape. Between the second cage and the fire, a group of raiders howled and laughed, drinking and pulling at their groins. A woman shrieked from their midst, her clothes tattered, flesh showing red weals from the men's attentions.

The masked man strode forward, sword in hand still, Tayla following along by the wrist, her eyes barely seeing the scene before her. Meghan saw them approaching, and paused in shock, watching them with mouth agape. Several ground-eating strides brought them to Meghan's cage. The stranger wasted no time in unlocking the prison and pulling the handmaid from it. Tayla allowed herself to be drawn into Meghan's arms, mind still blank. "Thank you for your mercy," Meghan said breathlessly. "Please, help the poor woman."

The stranger cut Meghan bonds as well, then took her wrist. Tayla distantly felt the woman hiss in pain, and stumbled along with her as they were guided past the fire, and into the tent. The handmaid cried out as she spied their destination, pulling against the masked man's grip, but he drew them inexorably forward.

The thickly woven walls cut off the light and muffled the sound from outside. A pair of gryphon-shaped braziers glowed warmly from opposite ends of the tent, a small cot sat against one wall, two trunks near it, and a small basin of steaming water sat in the middle. Tayla glanced passingly at her surroundings, standing still in Meghan's arms as the stranger sheathed his sword and faced them both, the golden light of an oil lamp gleaming across his silver mask.

Meghan stroked Tayla's hair, her body radiating anger. "So you are their leader. I never expected someone in charge of this kind of band to be so well kempt. Much easier to accept that drunken oaf as their boss." She drew a deep breath, pulling herself up straight, her voice dripping authority. "I wonder if we might be able to arrange a parlay, discuss terms of our release?"

The man tipped his head slightly, a loose hair drifting over the edge of the mask. He indicted the steaming bath, then sat himself in a canvas camp chair. Meghan's arms stiffened around the girl, and she spoke in a low voice. "Will you allow us some privacy in which to bathe?" A low laugh rumbled from behind the mask, and Meghan cursed beneath her breath. The woman sneered, and spoke again. "Then at least give us some new clothes. She can hardly go around this camp with her breasts half hanging out."

He nodded his head slowly, the dark eye holes of the mask moving towards Tayla. She dropped her gaze to the floor, wringing her hands softly. Time dragged for a moment, then she heard the rustle of clothes. Meghan moved, and the girl glanced back up. The masked leader was pointing to a chest near the bath, and the handmaid was approaching it, warily watching the man. He dropped his arm, remaining silent as Meghan searched through dark clothes.

She picked the first outfits that closely fit the two of them. She came back to the princess's side, the clothes draped over her forearm. "Would I be able to persuade you to let us change in private at least?" Again the chuckle greeted them. Meghan took a deep breath, handed Tayla the clothes, then began to unlace her dress. Tayla watched numbly as the handmaid disrobed swiftly, standing before their captor in naked glory, then dressed as swiftly. A distant part of the girl could feel Meghan's anger, the way the woman used her body as a weapon to flaunt her spirit. The girl could also feel a surge of hunger from their captor, and ice trailed through her heart.

Meghan cocked a hip, standing between their captor and the princess. "Get changed, my dear," she whispered over her shoulder. Tayla stood still, shivering slightly, her muscles quivering with shock, and held on to the soft clothes in her hands. A tear slipped down her cheek as she tried to speak, her mouth working silently. The handmaid frowned, then turned back to the masked man as the camp cot creaked.

He rose, moving silently across the fur rugs, approaching the women. Meghan stood defiantly before him, hands on her hips, but he shoved her roughly to the side. She stumbled, cried inarticulately, and fell to the floor. Tayla's heart raced, yet the girl couldn't muster the willpower to move from the approaching man. He loomed before her, and though there were only a few inches difference in their height, his presence taking up her entire awareness.

The princess let him take the clothes from her hands, dropping them to the rug. Her green eyes closed slowly as his gloved hands rose to her neck, fingertips brushing her delicate skin, then pushed the remains of her dress from her shoulders. The silk dress was tattered, yet it still clung to her skin and underclothes. Tayla whimpered once as his hands stroked down her arms, possessively resting at her wrists.

His mask radiated cold, nearly burning her skin with its proximity to her face. A deep breath could have closed the gap between them, and the leather scent of his clothes filled her nostrils. The princess kept her eyes closed as his hands moved from her wrists, tugging at the waist of her dress, pulling it down her hips, seams giving as he yanked. The girl heard him take a slow breath, and his hunger rocked through her, accompanied by the rich scent of rain and night. The scent was jarringly familiar, and Tayla cried out, taking a step back from her captor, regaining some of her senses.

The dress pooled at her feet, tangling with her underskirts, and she stumbled to the floor. Crossing one arm across her chest, tears spilling swiftly down her pale cheeks, Tayla watched the stranger bend to reclaim her new attire, then take a step towards her. She shook, fearing him, fearing her reaction to that scent, staring at him with wide eyes.

He dropped the clothes in her lap, continuing past her to the tent entrance. He spoke softly with the brigand outside, then remained by the tent entrance. Tayla felt his gaze heavy on her back, and bit her lip in discomfort. Meghan had made her way to Tayla's side, helping the girl to get dressed. Finished, the handmaid kept the younger woman in her arms, rocking her in the middle of the floor, glaring at the brigand leader over Tayla's head.

One of the ruffians brought them food, rabbit and tubers, setting a plate of the plain fare on the cot, leaving swiftly. The masked leader left as well, tying the tent closed again. The light of the braziers kept the darkness of the night away, but it didn't keep the darkness of depression from licking at Tayla's mind. Fear roamed her veins, keeping her thoughts incoherent and disjointed, and the girl barely tasted the food as Meghan fed her. She was aware of her handmaid speaking, but couldn't understand the words, nodding out of habit.

The princess dozed off, to be woken by Meghan some time later. The noises of the camp outside were muted, the crackle of the fire covering most of the snoring and grunts. Tayla looked at the woman blearily, sitting up, rubbing at her eyes. "I have the seam undone," Meghan whispered. "There are no guard patrols, so we can make our way into the woods soon."

Tayla frowned, biting her lower lip. "Into the woods? Are we escaping?"

Meghan made a sad sound, and kissed the top of Tayla's head. "Of course we are. You must have been too deep in shock to hear me tell you before your nap. This is our best chance to escape, before we get too far away from our rescue."

Tayla allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, and followed Meghan to the back of the tent. They crawled through the opening Meghan had made, and held hands as they walked silently away from the camp. Some of the brigands still made noise, drinking with each other, occasionally bursting with laughter. The night breeze brought the sound of a prisoner moaning, and Tayla's heart stumbled. For a moment only; she knew there was nothing she and Meghan could do for them. Once they had her father's soldiers, it would be a different story.

The night swallowed them as soon as the approached the woods. The underbrush was not thick enough to impede them. Which was lucky, considering storms still covered the sky, leaving everything in darkness. The princess stumbled along, hardly able to see, relying entirely upon Meghan to guide her. Tayla's heart rode in her throat, and she figured the brigands would be able to track her by that alone.

Several minutes passed with no sound of pursuit, yet Meghan kept moving silently. The women heard the sounds of a stream, and soon found the babbling sliver of water. They knelt and drank deeply, refreshing parched throats. Meghan rose to take their bearings while the princess remained kneeling on the water's edge.

Metal scraped on metal, and then several torches flared to life. Tayla's breath died in her chest as she saw the leather covered brigands staring at them from across the stream, the masked leader in their midst. Meghan swore, pulling Tayla to her feet. She shoved the girl behind her, growling. "Run, girl. Run!" The princess took a step backwards, eyes wide and stinging from the sudden light, staring at the wall of men before them. She wanted to stay with Meghan and help her, but she didn't know how.

The handmaid turned, eyes narrowed, and hissed her command again. Tayla bolted, heading upstream, away from the men and the light, bolting into the darkness, ignoring the scratches and snags she felt. Even when she stumbled, she forced herself back to her feet, ignoring the pain.

The only sound was her own passage through the woods, her breath ragged with sobs. There was no light pursuing her, no sounds of men tramping along her path. The princess wondered why they were delaying for Meghan only, when the older woman's scream pierced the night. Tayla stopped, looking back, ice forming in her veins at the sound of her friend's pain.

Then strong arms were wrapping themselves around her waist, cold silver pressing against her sweating neck. The girl screamed, trying to buck free of the grip, but it was like iron. He murmured something to her in a foreign language, the mask running across her ear, and she shuddered. Her heart hammered against her chest, and she sobbed in defeat. Tayla's muscles crumbled, and she stood docilely in his arms.

He waited another moment, breathing in her scent as she cried, then relaxed his arms. Tayla made no move to escape, waiting for his next move. His hand twisted cruelly in her hair, and she gasped, but followed along with him as he began walking. He kept her upright by her hair, and she was soon sobbing in pain as roots and rocks tripped her up, tearing at her clothes and skin, bruising her delicate skin.

It seemed to take forever to get back to the camp, and the princess had cried herself out by that time. Her head was throbbing with pain, and blood trickled from a scrape along her knee. The masked man barked orders to his men, and they were scrambling to obey his orders. The cage of prisoners were staring at the girl, one of their number sobbing again. The princess barely saw this, so swiftly was she drug into the tent. Thrown to the ground, she heard Meghan cry out with despair, and then familiar arms were holding her close.

Tayla laid limply, her heart broken. _There is no escape_ , she though disconsolately.

Chapter 9

Meghan was stroking her hair, making small noises over all the wounds on the girl's soft skin. The princess lay on her side, staring off into the distance, barely aware of those around her. The masked man undid his belt, tossing the sword and gloves to the cot, stepping out of his boots, his back to the women. The fire was roaring outside, brigands barking at each other, one horse trumpeting challenges to everyone.

The masked man turned, his bare feet padding silently through the furs, unlacing his shirt to reveal pale skin, a long braid of dark hair pulled over one shoulder. A lamp hung from the center pole of the tent, glinting off his silver mask. Meghan's hands tightened on the princess as he approached, her heart thundering loud enough for Tayla to hear.

He loomed over the women, as if in contemplation, then reached for the mahogany-haired girl. Tayla watched dispassionately as his hand came for her, but Meghan swatted at it, pulling the princess away from their captor. He snarled behind his mask, and batted the handmaid forcefully to the side. Meghan groaned, clearly dazed, and he reached for the princess again.

She closed her eyes as he pulled her to her feet, his hands cold on her wrist. She trembled as he reached for the lacings on her shirt, fingers brushing her throat. A soft whimper rose from deep inside as his fingers followed the line of her shirt, touching the round edges of her young breasts.

As his hands found her stomach, he pressed them under the cloth, sliding his grasp across her skin, parting the shirt, his fingertips like burning ice over her nerves. Tayla shivered, and unconsciously stepped closer to him, the open edges of his shirt now brushing her exposed skin. His hands found the small of her back, and Tayla opened her eyes, staring deep into her reflection on his highly polished mask.

A blur of motion at their side resolved into Meghan tackling their captor. Tayla grunted as she was pulled to the ground, the man's arms wrenched from around her waist. Meghan straddled him, pounding on his face with the heels of her hands, her face contorted with rage, a smear of blood at her hairline. The man laughed, grabbed Meghan's wrists, and threw her to the side. He pounced, landing atop the woman, pinning her to the ground. Meghan valiantly tried to get free, crying out as he shoved her legs aside, mounting her.

The sharp cry cut through Tayla's funk, and the girl lifted herself from the rugs. She darted to the struggling couple, and threw herself against the man. Her momentum knocked him from Meghan, and the girl tumbled with him to the floor. He was almost gentle with her as he disentangled himself, but firm as he placed a hand on her back to hold her in place.

Meghan was not so gentle as she launched herself at him once more. Someone's boot caught Tayla in the side, and tears sprang to her eyes.

The princess pulled herself from the struggling mass of bodies, trying to catch her breath, watching as Meghan twisted and moved and yanked away from their captor's grasping hands. The handmaid bit one of his reaching hands, and he cried out behind his mask. Tayla moved instinctually, seeing an opening, and drove the heel of her boot into the side of his head. His head fell to the side, mask jarred loose, and Meghan followed up on the attack.

She grabbed his mask, and in a swift move bashed it across his face. Anger flowed from him, and Tayla gasped at the intensity of it. She trembled as he threw Meghan to the side, sitting up, blood running from the corner of his mouth. The princess gave a strangled cry as he glanced to her, and her blood turned to ice. Meghan moved again, and he grabbed her by the throat, pushing her to the ground. She saw his face as well, and went limp, a keening sound rising from her lips.

Tayla watched Baron Rikter wipe the blood from his mouth, licking it from his pale fingers. His onyx eyes were almost apologetic as he spoke to Tayla, keeping Meghan pinned down. "Neither one of you was supposed to find out about me." He rocked back on his heels, releasing his grip on Meghan, and sighed heavily. "I had this all planned."

Meghan barked laughter as she sat up, scooting towards Tayla. "What do you mean, you had this planned? And just who the hell are you?"

His eyes never left the princess, though he addressed Meghan. "I am who I told you I was. I am Baron Thatus, and I am in the import business. I have holdings in the south, and was just visiting up here. To find the two of you was a lovely surprise."

"But what do you mean you had this _planned_?" Meghan's voice dripped venom, and she pulled Tayla close to her, wrapping arms around the girl's shoulders.

His eyes narrowed as he moved his gaze to the older woman. "I had a plan. You two would be kept in relative comfort until we were far enough from the site of the attack that I could sneak in and rescue the both of you. I was to be your savior, not your captor."

Meghan scoffed, and Tayla could only stare disbelievingly. She began wringing her hands, understanding why their captor had smelled so disturbingly familiar. "Why did you not just rescue us at the camp?" Meghan asked, voice still venomous.

His sparkling eyes sought Tayla's eyes once more, and she dropped her leafy green gaze to the furs. "Because I wanted to be able to keep you for myself. It's why I had my men grab you in the first place." He shifted on the fur, making himself more comfortable, and Tayla glanced up. His face was blank, no emotions riding it, as he darted his gaze between the two women. "Can you blame a man for wanting such a beautiful pair of women?"

"Yes, I can," Meghan hissed. "How dare you put us through this kind of abuse? How dare you think to take us like were some piece of art? Did you think we would _welcome_ captivity at your hands? Monster," she snarled, spitting at his bare feet.

Tayla trembled as his deep gaze locked onto hers, boring into soul. "All I wanted to do was take you away from this," he whispered. "I was going to give you your heart's desire."

"We will be found. There are soldiers following no more than two days behind. Once they find the slaughter, they will make all haste to our rescue." Meghan's hands trembled on Tayla's shoulder, and the girl was aware of her restrained fury, of the outrage the older woman was feeling. But beneath all the anger was a sense of embarrassment, chagrin that she'd allowed this snake of a man to have his way with her.

Rikter cocked his head, looking them up and down. "Why would soldiers be following two trader girls? Unless you're a princess or something."

Meghan pulled herself up straighter. "I am a princess," she whispered, the lie coming easily. It was too smooth, as if she practiced it. "My handmaid and I were traveling incognito, on our way to a diplomatic meeting."

He tipped his head further to the side, like a curious bird, and frowned. "Your entourage consists of a driver, a footman, one guard, and one young handmaid? How diplomatic could this meeting have been?" He smiled suddenly, wicked humor filling his black eyes. "Unless it was a clandestine meeting with some suitor your kingly father didn't approve of. Have I caught the truth of it?"

Meghan ducked her head, then spoke lowly. "He knew enough to have a guard following us."

Rikter laughed loudly, leaning back on his elbows, lounging before his captives. "Well, too bad they weren't at your side. I had a band of my men stay behind to help muddy the tracks, to set false trails. It seems highly unlikely they'll find the correct path in time." He licked his lips, staring openly at Meghan, a low hunger burning through the room. "But I'll let you become my princess. I'll worship you and treat you like you need to be." His eyes fell on the young woman. "However, I need to make some kind of profit, so the handmaid will have to be sold. I'll replace her with someone just as skilled when we reach my manor."

Meghan's arms stiffened, and her head snapped up as she spoke. "You cannot sell my Tayla. I need her."

His head lolled to one side, his braid touching the fur rug behind him. "Why not? You belong to me now, I can dispose of your property as I desire."

Meghan released Tayla, kneeing humbly before their captive. The princess wrapped arms around herself, her soul shaking, and she stared mutedly at the man. His eyes remained on Meghan this time, watching as the "princess" crawled the distance to his side. "She has been with me for years now. Her mother was my handmaid before her. I would be hard pressed to train another."

Rikter's hand reached to her face, and she pressed her cheek into it. Tayla had never seen her act this humble, had never known the woman had it in her. "Training is nothing, my princess. You can buy pre-trained servants." His eyes glanced to Tayla, and she shivered, face paling. "Unless there's another type of training you've given her." His eyes bored into her head, and her mouth went dry. "Have you made her into your lover as well? Does she comfort you at night?"

Rikter shoved Meghan to the side, and rose to his knees. Meghan lay motionless beside him, her dark green eyes meeting Tayla's, tears standing on the rims. The girl could not move as Rikter moved to her side, his hands suddenly cupping her face, lifting her gaze to him. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at his beauty and the naked hunger in his eyes.

"The choice is easy," he drawled in a deep voice. He drew Tayla to her knees, pressing her body against his own. "She stays with us, as my lover, or she is sold at the slave markets." Meghan gasped behind them, and Tayla's heart lodged in her throat.

_His lover, or his slave? By his side, in his bed, or in some unknown person's possession? This is not a choice and he knows it._ She licked her lips, eyes closing as his thumbs caressed her cheeks. _And he knows I was willing to be wooed by him._

"Your lover," she whispered, tasting his desire as she spoke.

His smile was etched into his words. "I knew it." Then his lips pressed greedily to her mouth, kissing her forcefully. His hands held her tightly, and she whimpered at the fierceness of his kiss.

He broke from their embrace with a snarl of pain, throwing Tayla to the ground. She opened her eyes, grunting with the shock of the impact, and saw Meghan standing over their captor, leaning her weight against the hilt of his sword. Anger seared his gaze as he reached for the handmaid, the point of the sword pressing against his shirt in front, the blade passing through his chest from behind. Meghan drew back, taking the sword with her, lining up for a better stroke at his heart.

Rikter moved in a blur, rising and grabbing the crossguard of the sword, slamming a fist into Meghan's face. The handmaid crumbled to the floor, and Tayla cried out. Rikter threw the bloodstained sword across the tent, snarling as he touched the wound in his left shoulder. Meghan stirred at his feet, and he reached for her. She moved slowly, her eyes fluttering closed, and cried out as he clasped a hand around her throat. He yanked her to her feet, the woman gurgling as he strangled her. Tayla watched in disbelief as he approached, unable to avoid his bloody hand as he grabbed her hair with his wounded arm. The baron yanked her to her feet, holding the struggling Meghan in the other, and marched the women out of the tent.

Brigands still stirred around the raging bonfire, and they grew quiet as their leader strode into the night, a woman in each hand. He tossed the purple-faced Meghan to the ground, drawing Tayla against his chest. His skin was searing hot, even through her shirt, and the cold air raised goose pimples across her exposed skin. She was grateful when he let go of her hair, but his arm quickly shifted to embrace her just below her breasts.

Rikter's voice was a snarl as he spoke in the foreign tongue. Brigands looked at each other, then back at their leader. One of them raised a curious voice, and Rikter repeated his command. Questioning left the men's expressions, replaced by lust and hunger. The princess watched as they approached Meghan, circling her, pulling at belts and drawstrings, faces soon lost in shadows as they formed up.

Meghan stared frantically at Rikter, unmoving on the ground as the first of the men knelt beside her, one of them sniffing her hair. "What are you doing? Is this how you treat your princess?"

Rikter laughed coldly, stroking Tayla's hair with his free hand. The girl shivered, but didn't try to pull away even when he raised a strand to his nose. "You sealed your fate with that sword, Princess." He managed to drawl the word, filling it with loathing, letting his fingers trail down Tayla's neck to her shoulder, pulling the shirt aside. "I don't want someone who is going to fight me at every moment." He laughed, his mouth near Tayla's ear. "Besides, I've had you already, and you weren't that good." Rikter spoke lowly in the brigand's tongue, and the men lunged forward, grabbing Meghan.

The woman's sudden panic lashed out at Tayla, and the princess screamed with her, bucking in Rikter's arms. The baron held her tighter, keeping her on her feet, his arm a steel bar around her midsection. Tayla keened as she shared her handmaid's sensation. Rough hands pulled at her clothes, broken nails tore her skin. Mouths latched onto her shoulders and face, and she was pinned in their grip. Her breeches were painful torn from her hips, laughter surrounding her as she kicked out, only to be caught in a tight grip. The stench of the men threatened to overwhelm her, and she gagged as someone forced a kiss upon her.

Rocks dug into her back as she was laid spreadeagle on the ground, someone kneeling between her thighs. Hot tears burned on her temples as she watched the man lower his pants, his manhood already erect and pointing at her. He mounted her, and Meghan screamed as he thrust inside her.

Tayla screamed brokenly, her eyes rolling closed, nails digging painfully into her palms. She felt blood trickle through her fingers, felt it seeping from a split lip, and struggled in the baron's arms. He held her tight, moving with her, his other arm wrapped around her shoulders. She tossed her head back and forth, screaming denials as her body reacted to the violation.

This is not my pain. This is not my revulsion. Why must I feel this? Why must I share this? How do I make it stop?

Rikter spun the girl, grabbing her head in his hands, forcing her to hold still. His voice was insistent as he demanded she open her eyes. Tears rolled fat down her cheeks, and she sniffled, suppressing another scream as she fell into Rikter's onyx eyes. He said nothing more, boring into her with his eyes, his lips parted slightly. Meghan cried out again, her voice matched by someone from the cage of prisoners. The men were a seething crowd of laughter and lust, and their base hunger lashed at Tayla as well. She whimpered, trembling in Rikter's grasp, her knees seconds from buckling.

Chapter 10

He released her head and grabbed her elbow, dragging her back into the tent. The flaps fell closed on the surreal scene, and Tayla felt some of sanity return. She collapsed, shoulder crying out in protest as Rikter kept his grip on her. The princess looked up at her captor, tears blurring her vision, hands stinging where her nails had cut them.

He loomed above her, still holding her elbow tightly, fingers like a vise. His face was unreadable, his eyes shadowed as he stared. Long moments passed, and the voices of the mob outside rose briefly, then fell back to a murmur of lust.

Rikter finally knelt before her, and he lifted one of her hands to his mouth. Tayla gasped as his tongue darted to the crescent-shaped wounds, lapping at the blood staining her pale skin. He shuddered, eyes closed, and his hand on her wrist loosened. The girl pulled away, the lingering ache of the brigands' phantom hands on her body growing more fierce.

Rikter's head snapped up, his soulless eyes meeting hers, freezing her in place. Her heart stumbled as hunger lashed at her, filling the space between them. His mouth parted, Rikter crawled to her, the fierce emotion growing thicker between them as he approached. Sweat beaded her back as Rikter touched her, his hand clasping at her thigh. She tried to swallow, tried to breathe, tried to move, but she couldn't move past his eyes.

"You are more delicious than your scent implied," he said lowly, his lips barely moving. Tayla gasped as he moved up her body, kneeling beside her, half over her, his hand sliding up her thigh to her exposed stomach. The princess shook as his head bent, icy tongue darting to the stain of blood on her lip. _How can he be so cold?_ she thought as his lips sought hers. Rikter kissed her forcefully, tongue brushing hers, then his mouth moving to her jaw, to her ear, to her neck. She arched against him unconsciously as he nipped the side of her neck, his hand sliding to the small of her back.

"I'm going to enjoy taking you," he growled, rubbing the side of his face against hers. He pressed her backwards, his half bare chest crushing her breasts. Tayla wanted to fight, struggled to control her body, but all she could feel was the pain of the men outside forcing themselves upon Meghan.

And she felt his all-consuming hunger. It crawled across her skin, made her nerves ache, and it snarled at her heart, causing it to race faster. His hand remained in the small of her back, pressing her against him as he lay atop her, one thigh pressing hers apart. Heat raced through her veins, bringing his ice cold flesh to sharp contrast. Her breath caught in her throat, refusing to be near this man licking the fine sweat from her neck. "What are you?" she managed to whisper, moaning the words as he kissed her earlobe.

He pulled back, frowning, staring down into her eyes. His hunger collapsed suddenly, though he remained on top of her. "You don't know? I thought you..." A frown creased his beautiful face, and he licked his lips. Tayla hiccupped a sob, tears falling from her eyes, and she watched thoughts flitting behind his eyes. "But you've been afraid of me. I thought you knew."

Tayla shook her head slowly, not sure what he was meaning. A shudder passed through her as he smiled crookedly, exposing one long fang, the sharp point resting against his lower lip. "My sweet rose, I am a night drinker." She frowned, disbelieving his words, not wanting to hear what he was saying. "You reacted like one of those who could see through my mask, who knew I was a vampire." He chuckled, bending to kiss her lips. "Did you really not figure it out?"

"But you...daylight...and the tent, no coffin..." Her thoughts were more disjointed than her words, and the girl closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, impossible."

Rikter sat up, his hand raking her side, and yanked his shirt open. Blood stained his pale skin, following the contours of his lithe body, smeared by the cloth. Tayla's eyes were immediately drawn to the puckered wound near his left shoulder. The pink flesh was free of blood, and looked weeks old. Tayla's heart stumbled as he grabbed one of her hands, pressing it against the wound. Amidst the frozen expanse of his smooth chest, the wound was searingly hot.

She whimpered, trying to pull away, the wound spongy beneath her fingers. A feral smile graced Rikter's lips as he kept her hand trapped against the wound, forcing her fingers tighter against it. Her nails scraped against sensitive flesh, watched him shiver at the sensation.

"If I weren't a vampire, I would have bled out and died by now for certain. Your princess did hit a vein when she stabbed me. If she'd have thrust any further, it is possible she would have hurt you too." The vampire released her hand, reaching to the tears on her cheeks. He brought one sparkling drop to his lips, tasting it with obvious delight. He tipped his head, loose strands of hair caressing his face. His eyes seared through hers, and she shivered, trying to move away from him. "Instead, she is being raped by my men, and you are in here with me." His hand trailed across her thigh, and the girl gasped.

He looked down at her pale skin, at the brassier barely hiding her young flesh, and the smears of his blood left streaked across her. "You screamed so loudly when your princess was first attacked." His eyes locked on hers. "Why was that?"

She licked her lips, pain aching in the split where she'd bit her lip. Tayla tried to sit up, to move away from the vampire, and Rikter allowed it. She shivered, pulling her shirt closed, thinking about her reaction. Silence built between them, the hum of the rape outside seemingly distant. Tayla looked deep into Rikter's eyes, her words hardly even a whisper. "I do not know."

Rikter leaned close, his aura wrapping around her, causing the girl to gasp. "You don't know?" he hissed, bringing a hand to her cheek. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

Tayla looked down, swallowing hard. "Just that, my lord. I do not know why. I have never experienced that before."

"Except that afternoon when I kissed you. You felt something similar then." His voice was husky, and he took a deep breath, pulling in her scent.

Tayla shivered, looking up, only to fall into his dark gaze. "This whole trip has been very strange for me. I do not understand anything that is happening to me."

Rikter brushed his lips against her mouth, then kissed her harder when she moaned softly. His hand moved to the back of her head, holding her close, his tongue crossing the threshold of her lips. He pulled back, looking into her eyes, whispering throatily at her. "What shall you do without your princess to protect you anymore?"

Tayla whimpered, fear constricting her heart, and pressed a hand against Rikter's chest, trying to keep him at a distance. His gaze was heavy on her, but she refused to look, continuing to push him away. He growled low in his throat, grabbing her hand, pushing her back to the ground in a smooth movement. His chest pressed heavily against her breasts, his mouth seeking her neck. Tears fell again, and she cried out, words forming from the depths of her terror.

"My lord, no!"

He froze, his lips a hair's width from her neck, his hunger caressing her nerves. The moment lingered, building in intensity, becoming unbearable. The vampire shifted, sitting up, his eyes drawing every ounce of light into them. Tayla choked on a sob, unable to move, her extremities numb, heart thundering painfully against her ribs. One of his hands trailed across her stomach, making her skin crawl, as he continued to contemplate her.

"Why did your princess protect you so?" he asked breathlessly.

Tayla looked away, incapable of lying to him at this movement. Her insides stirred uncomfortably, and her head was pounding suddenly. She couldn't think, could barely feel, and wanted to curl up and hide. She wanted this all to be a nightmare she could wake up from. A single tear slipped loose, and she stifled the sob that was building in her chest.

He shifted, rising to his feet. "Rest, my young rose. I shall deal with you after I think more on this." Tayla watched with wide eyes as he stepped out of the tent, still shirtless. She heard grunts from the brigands still, and sobbed suddenly. She curled into a ball on her side, and drifted into darkness, thinking of Meghan.

She lounges on the couch, one leg before her, one drawn up on the cushion. She's hungry, a heat rumbling inside her, demanding she slake it. She wears nothing but a robe, the skirt pooled around her uplifted leg, exposing a smooth expanse of milky flesh. Her hair is splayed around her, and she idly plays with a long curl of it.

He stands before her, head down, his hair held back in a severe tail, square face flushed with heat, the candles gracing each curve and edge. He keeps his eyes closed, but she knows he can see her face in his mind's eye. She's well aware of his desire, can taste it on the incense-filled air, and it speaks to her hunger. This is the flavor she desires, the one thing that will quench her need.

She reaches her hand towards him, jeweled rings sparkling on elegant fingers. He hears her speak his name, and he looks up. So young, so beautiful, his eyes are dark gems. Kohl rings his eyes, deepening the darkness of them, his luscious mouth colored with dark rouge, tempting her to smear all his makeup.

She watches his muscles play beneath his youthful skin as he kneels directly before her, his thigh brushing her extended leg. Leather pants envelop his lower half, revealing almost as much as they hide. She can smell the leather, his body heat radiating through the fabric. He's shirtless, his nipples dark against a faint tan, the length of his hair resting between his shoulder blades.

She sits up, feeling his shiver as her icy aura surrounds him, and she laughs, tossing her blond hair back over her dainty shoulders. He draws a deep breath, his chest expanding deliciously as he does so, and she brings both hands to the collar around his neck. He is helpless for her, all this strength at her beck and call. Her laugh peals again, and she pulls him fiercely against her. He grunts, her breasts crushed between them, and his breath pools against the hollow of her neck.

She feels his entire body shiver as she kisses his neck, one hand now trailing manicured nails down his chest, flicking his nipple. She opens her mouth to taste him, his skin damp with a fine sheen of sweat, the oils of his recent bath beneath that. Her hunger is shrieking inside her, and she can no longer contain it. He groans deeply as her fangs sink into his shoulder, drawing his life into her, shuddering as she slakes her thirst.

Chapter 11

Tayla woke with a jolt, the remembered taste of blood in her mouth, and shuddered. Bile threatened to rise, and she barely managed to keep it down. The princess sobbed, turning her face into the unfamiliar pillow, tears stinging her eyes.

It was quiet, the air heavy and chilled. Sniffling, she turned to take in her surroundings. The gryphon braziers had gone out, and one lamp hung from the center pole, burning low. _Rikter's tent. His bed. His lair. Yet where is he?_ She continued looking, and blushed furiously when she saw him perched on the end of the cot. She had neither felt nor heard him when she awoke.

His hair was loose from its braid, draped around his face, caressing his shoulders. He remained shirtless, though the blood had been cleaned from his pale skin. The wound in his shoulder was still puckered and pink, so the princess judged she hadn't slept long. "How...how much time..." Her mouth was too dry to form words.

"How long did you sleep?" he ventured. She nodded, sitting up, drawing the furs around her shoulders. She still wore the unlaced shirt, her young body still half naked before her captor. He smiled, and shifted on the bed, sitting cross legged before her, his face lighting with a smile. "Only a few hours, amazingly. I would have thought that as exhausted as you are, you'd have slept most of the morning. Dawn hasn't even broken yet."

Tayla shivered, and looked away from him. Tatters of her dream stirred through her mind. She could not banish the vision of him half-dressed and in a collar, nor could she deny the heat that smoldered inside her at the sight. In her dreams, she'd been strong enough to control him.

She glanced up, saw his wonderment, the tangles of his hair around his face, and she shivered. _Strong enough to control him? What am I thinking? There is no way to control him. The most I can do is placate him, convince him to let me go._ The stricken look on Meghan's face when he had thrown her to his men rose before Tayla's eyes, and she started crying. _Most of all, I cannot escape him._

The vampire moved, crawling the short distance to her, wiping her tears away. "Why does my little rose cry?" he whispered.

His onyx gaze held her, kept her still, and tears danced at the rim of her eyes, wanting to fall. "Why should I not cry? Why should I be happy? What is there for me to smile about?"

He sighed softly, repositioning himself, drawing her into his arms. She stiffened, pushing against his well-defined chest, trying to avoid his embrace. He was relentless, pulling her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her. Tayla whimpered, but remained trapped by him.

"I would hope my mercy would be enough to make you smile. I'm not going to sell you, I'm not going to let my men have their way with you." His lips brushed her neck, and she shook violently. "I'm going to keep you all to myself, just like your princess did. I want to know what she liked so much about you."

Tayla's hand trembled against his chest, her nails grazing his skin. She strode treacherous ground, trapped by Meghan's protective lie. She could either keep it up, live at his whims as a servant, or she could tell him and hope to be ransomed to her father. His fingers traced her spine, causing her to shiver, and her thoughts were dashed away.

"Were you her lover?" he whispered in her ear. Tayla whimpered, vehemently shaking her head, resisting his touch once more. His hunger trailed along her nerves, and it disturbed her how clearly she could feel it.

He pulled back, surprise causing him to frown. "You weren't lovers, and yet she was so protective about a young girl. She seemed more worried about your welfare than her own." His eyes bored into her skull, as if he would read her thoughts. "What makes you so different?"

Tayla shook her head. "I do not know, my lord. I do not understand what she was thinking." _At least that much is true._

He tipped his head to the side, moving one hand to the princess's hip. "Perhaps there's nothing special about you." He chuckled wickedly, his fangs glinting in the dim light. "You're probably not even worth feeding. So I'll just have my way with you, see if at least _that's_ special about you."

He lunged, wrapping her in his arms, twisting and pinning her to the bed. Panic flooded her senses, and she cried out sharply, heart racing as his mouth covered hers. She slapped at his chest ineffectually, avoiding the invading tongue against her mouth. Finally the kiss broke, and she called out for him to stop.

Rikter paused, panting above her, his body pinning her to the bed, his eyes half lidded as he stared at her. "Why should I stop this time?" His voice was husky, yet still lovely as it poured in her ears.

She thought swiftly, mouthing words to buy herself time. _He does not care about ransom. I doubt he ever did. He would rather destroy what he cannot have. That is what he did to Meghan. So I must win his protection some other way._ "I cannot tell you what is special about me, but I could show you. Please, let me show you." She squirmed as he tipped his head to her neck again. "I am worth it," she cried out sharply.

His mouth touched her ear, his breath hot and thick as he spoke. "Are you really? Meghan was ready to die for it."

She swallowed around the lump in her throat, nodding, tears falling freely from her eyes again. _What am I getting myself into?_

He rose, kneeling above her, face lost in shadows. "Then prove it. Get up, change your clothes, and find me something to wear." He moved, lounging on the bed, watching her with glittering eyes. She sat up slowly, and he merely watched her. Tayla gathered her shirt to her chest, leaving the cot, shaking with fear.

I have never seen anyone change their mood so rapidly. Even when Meghan was acting weirdly, I did not see this reaction in her. How does he pull all that hunger back into himself so swiftly?

Tayla made her way to the chest of clothes, kneeling beside it was she watched Rikter. He shifted to his side, propping his head up with the lower arm, and she flinched at the movement. Forcing her heart to calm down, she dug through the clothes. Most of them were silk or leather, a few in fine linen, all of it dark in color. She found herself a new shirt and trousers, and picked something in leather for the vampire.

The cot creaked as he moved to lay flat on his back, and she gasped. Taking several shuddering breaths, the girl attempted to calm down. She turned her back to him, stripping her shirt off, dressing swiftly. Her hair was tangled, and she felt grimy, but she refused to strip entirely and take a bath. The princess had no desire to be completely helpless before her captor.

As she dressed, Tayla couldn't help but flinch every time Rikter moved. Her mouth was dry with fear, and her hands were almost shaking too much to work the buttons on the overly large shirt she'd chosen. The pants were too long on her and bagged around her ankles, but as she turned towards the glittering eyes of the vampire, she could not care.

He waited, face unreadable, as she approached with his new outfit. He sat up in a blur, and she actually squeaked in surprise, dropping his clothes.

The vampire snarled, grabbing her wrist, pulling him towards him. Tayla cried out, unable to resist as he spun her, trapping her arm behind her, forcing her into his lap. She shook with fear, his chest cold against her back, and started to cry as his mouth brushed the back of her neck. _Every time he grabs me, I am this scared. Will I never become used to it?_

His lips traced the edge of one ear, and she could feel him smiling. "You seem to think I'm going to ravage you at any moment." He squeezed her waist, his other hand bundling her hair into his grip. "Do you desire it or fear it?"

She froze, breath rapid as she wondered at his words. _Is it possible I desire his touch? Do I want him to violate me?_ His lips moved against her skin, sending another shiver down her spine, and she spoke in a low voice. "I fear it. I fear you. I have always feared you."

He threw her forcefully to the floor. She lay on the fur, awaiting his next move, and heard him rise from the cot. Turning her head, Tayla saw him unlacing his breeches. His eyes were unreadable as he glanced at her. She turned as he pushed his pants from his tight hips, blushing faintly. Tayla listened to him dressing, her heart heavy in her throat as she continued to wait for him.

The cot creaked once more as he sat, and nudged the girl with his foot. Tayla turned shyly, barely bringing her green eyes to his face. "I thought you might just be a cute little distraction," he said lowly. "I thought maybe you would be a toy for a night or two. But something in the way your princess protected you, in the way you react to my touch, in the way you look at me with those eyes..." He trailed off, leaning to one side, tossing his hair over his shoulder. "I didn't lie to you when I said you were special. I meant it. The more I deal with you, the more I want to know what it is."

He smiled softly, sitting back up. "So here's my promise to you, little rose. I will not take you against your will. I will leave you unspoiled, and I will find out what makes you so special. Can you handle that?"

Tayla forced herself to sit up, licking her lips before she spoke. "You will not take me?"

He smiled wickedly. "I've had a hint of your blood, little rose. I want to know what you taste like. But I won't force you. You are safe with me. You are my servant, and nothing more."

Tayla felt a weight lift from her chest. _I can struggle through my duties as long as I do not fear his attack. I can handle this entire situation if I take it one step at a time._ The princess nodded slowly. "If I have your word that you will not attack me, then I can handle this."

His hand lashed out, crossing the distance between them in a flash, and cracked against her cheek, knocking her off balance. Tayla gasped with the stinging pain, her hand rising swiftly to the burning spot, her eyes filled with tears as she glanced at her captor.

Rikter had a fierce look upon his face, eyebrows drawing together, and he spoke in a harsh tone. "My servants don't question me, and they certainly don't expect promises from me. Now get your boots on, and brush your hair out. You look a fright."

Hand still cradling her cheek, Tayla whispered to him, "But I have no brush here."

His hand moved, and she flinched, bracing for the blow, but it never landed. He arched one brow, and a smile brushed the corner of his lips. "You should address your master with more respect, little rose. I don't want to hear a single word come out of your mouth unless you say 'Master' or 'My lord' with it." His brow creased slightly as he frowned. "Didn't your princess teach you any manners?"

Tayla ducked her head, blushing furiously. _Already off to a horrible start. What will he do when he finds out?_ "She did, Master. I am sorry." Pride stung her, smoldering in her heart, and she had to bite her lip to keep tears from forming.

Rikter drew a saddlebag from beneath the cot and rustled through it. Tayla looked up as he tossed a brush in her direction. "When you're done with your hair, you can do mine." She lifted the brush slowly, distracted as she worked the tangles from her mass of hair. Time moved slowly, and she felt Rikter's eyes upon her. The vampire's gaze caused her to blush, and she kept her face turned from him.

Finishing her task, she rose, still barefoot, and faced her captor. "How would you like your hair done, my lord?" She could speak no louder than a whisper, and kept her eyes on his chest.

"You know how to do a five plaited braid?" She nodded slowly. "Then that's how you shall do it. And I'll give you a clasp for that wave of curls. They'll just get in the way while we're riding."

"Riding, my lord?" she asked, kneeling on the cot behind him. _Courtly courtesies are easier to maintain than calling him master. I cannot bring myself to be reminded of our positions. But he is a lord. If he has not lied about that._

He straightened his back, sitting up tall as she first touched his hair. "You and I are going to return to my manse in the south. My men will sell off the goods, and go about collecting something else for me. We part directions this morning, and will begin the long ride."

She swallowed hard, digesting the information as she began to comb out his hair. Her hands trembled as she held the heavy mass of inky blackness, the girl in awe of it. It was so silken smooth, yet thick and strong, too much beauty on this monster. As she worked out the tangles, the hair warmed to her touch, giving off the familiar scent of wet forest and rain. Despite her fear, Tayla found herself infatuated with his tresses, and continued brushing long after it was tangle free.

Rikter chuckled lowly, turning to look at the princess over his shoulder. "You know you're not the first girl to fall in love with my hair."

Tayla blushed, biting her lip harshly. "My apologies," she murmured, caught in his gaze. Her hands felt numb, still hanging in the length of his hair. The girl was amazed that it was half the length of hers; she had yet to notice that in the days they'd been together. He chuckled again, facing forward, and she began the braid. Tayla kept her concentration as she worked, ignoring the tingles racing from her fingertips as they trailed across his scalp.

The braid was finished, and before she could ask, Rikter was handing her a thin ribbon. She tied it off, then waited patiently as he rose and straightened his clothes. The baron ran a hand across the tightly plaited braid, and nodded in approval. "Well done, little rose. Just be a little less distracted the next time." His eyes glittered with amusement as she blushed again. He went through his saddlebag once more, and extended a silver clasp towards the princess. "Now finish getting ready so we may leave."

He gathered his things as she bound her hair and laced up her boots. She stood in the middle of the floor, wringing her hands as she waited for him to finish. When he was done, he approached her, cloak thrown back over his shoulders, saddlebag in his left hand. In his heeled boots, he loomed over her, his scent enveloping the princess. He touched her cheek briefly, eyes narrowed, and smiled. "You look good in my clothes. I think you'll grow into them," he murmured, eyes traveling the line of her body.

Tayla looked away, ignoring his comment, heat spreading across her cheeks. She followed docilely as he left the tent. He gave orders to a brigand, making his way towards the horse line. The fire had died down to embers, glowing softly in the pre-dawn darkness. A chill hung around them, seeping through her borrowed clothes. Brigands snored, grunting in their sleep, and one of the prisoners was moaning in the dark.

Anye whickered loudly when his master approached, tossing his dark head. Tayla's stomach clenched in fear as she stared at the large beast. Rikter helped the ruffian to prepare his horses, settling his bag behind Anye's saddle. Holding the stallion's reins, Rikter came back to the girl, smiling lovingly as his horse nudged his back.

"Ready to ride out?"

Tayla blanched, her throat dry as she smelled the heat of the stallion. "I never...I never learned how to ride, my lord."

His jaw clenched as he looked down at her. "You don't know how to ride?' He chuckled suddenly. "I guess I'm not surprised, considering your princess barely knew how. What _did_ you girls do for fun?"

Turning back to the horses, he spoke lowly to the brigand, who quickly lashed Cehs's reins to the stallion's saddle. Checking the knot, Rikter signaled for Tayla. She stepped forward, shivering as his hand slid against the small of her back. He drew her closer to the stallion, and she held her breath, the beast shifting his head to sniff at her.

"You realize now you will have to ride double with me, spend the day in my arms. I hope you're prepared." Tayla gasped as his lips brushed her ear, the motion sending shivers down her spine.

"My lord, you-"

His grip tightened on her hips. "You get no say in this!" he hissed. Tayla cried out as he lifted her effortlessly into the air. Her legs flailed for a moment as he shoved her at the saddle, and then she grabbed the leather, pulling herself to a seat. Anye shifted, snorting loudly, and she trembled, hands clenching the saddle horn. The vampire pulled himself up behind her, shifting her forward, arms strong around Tayla. She trembled, heart rising to her throat as her back conformed to his body, the ground impossibly far below her.

Rikter shifted again, settling himself, Anye's reins held in one hand. He took a deep breath, reaching to the brigand, and Tayla watched him accept his silver mask. The vampire settled it over his fine features, then glanced at his servant. "We ride, little rose." With no further warning, he kicked his horse to a trot, leaving the camp.

Tayla rocked in his grasp, body already jarred from the gait, glancing around at the camp, the stirring brigands, and felt tears rise to her eyes. Amidst the sleeping men was one pale form, bruised and bloody. Tayla cried out as Meghan reached for her, then Rikter turned the horse, cutting her off from her friend.

Chapter 12

Rikter kept his horse at a canter, the stallion seeming to enjoy the run, tireless in his pace. The sun peeked through for a few hours, causing the baron to flinch and pull the hood of his cloak up. Tayla was jostled in the saddle, holding the leather in a death grip, sweating faintly with fear, watching the ground whiz by beneath the horse's massive hooves. Her thighs hurt immediately, her wrists and back following suit. The princess gritted her teeth, tears burning in her eyes, refusing to admit pain to her captor.

Clouds eventually covered the sun, sending the day into bleakness. _A perfect companion for my mood._ The girl winced as Anye leapt a rut in the road, sending pain from her wrists to her elbows, and she was unable to bite back the sound it broke loose.

Rikter reined Anye in, the horse tossing his head in disapproval of the halt. Cehs edged forward, sniffing the girl's leg, and Tayla sagged with relief. Her body felt like it was still moving, but there was a break in the pain.

The vampire wrapped one hand around her waist, leaning over her shoulder. "What's wrong?" His voice echoed strangely from behind the mask, almost muffling his words. Tayla turned her head from him, and he forced her to look at him with the other hand. "Why are you crying?" he asked, concern lacing his words.

Until he had pointed it out, the princess hadn't realized she was crying. She bit back another sob, and let herself relax against the strength of his form. He yanked the mask off, frowning at her, his eyes narrowed against what light of the sun came through. "How long have you been in pain?" His words were whispered, his teeth gritted.

"Since we left the camp," she answered, turning her head away. Anye moved towards the verge of the road, head down towards grass, and Tayla gasped at the lance of pain in her lower back.

Rikter tucked the mask behind the saddle, wedging it on top of the pack, then rested his hands on her hips. The princess moaned in pain as he pressed on her hips, his thumbs digging into her lower back. She felt bones compress, muscles shift, and it caused her legs to go numb. She barely held herself upright, moaning as the pressure built. Rikter's mouth brushed her neck, and she cried out, attempting to arch away from him.

"Sit still," he growled. His lips were soft like snowflakes as he mumbled something to her skin, his words too low for her to make out. Still he gripped her hips, his arms shaking with the effort. Tayla sighed, tears flowing freely from her eyes as pain ebbed from her limbs. The princess sagged against him, her head lolling, his mouth still working against her neck. Relief flooded her veins, and her vision dimmed momentarily.

Rikter released her hips, wrapping his arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder. They were silent, the creatures of the wild making small noises around them, the saddles creaking as the horses nibbled at the overgrown grass.

"I have not shared someone's pain in a very long time," he whispered, kissing her neck, straightening up. "It's a very hard trick, takes a very receptive person." He winced as Anye shifted, his arms tensing briefly. "Just as you can share someone's feelings, you can give yours to someone else."

He kissed her ear, tongue just behind his lips as he spoke. "You are lucky that you are not my lover. I will have to feed deeply to maintain this bond. But you won't be feeling my fangs."

Tayla moaned softly, then caught herself, and turned her head. "Thank you for your mercy, my lord." The girl felt drained and weak, like recovering from a long fever. "I am sorry I am a burden to you."

He clucked to Anye, gathering the reins once more. "You're a burden I want to have, so you have no reason to apologize." His heels dug into the horse's ribs once more, and they set off. Tayla wobbled as they started, her arms weak, and leaned back against Rikter. He smiled into her hair, and she attempted to ignore his chill as her back pressed against his chest.

After a time, she felt Rikter sniffing the wind, his head rubbing against hers. "There's a camp ahead," he murmured. "A logging camp. We'll stop there and get you some food, let you rest a bit." Tayla nodded acknowledgment, unable to speak.

The princess expected the camp to be right around the bend of the path as it entered the woods, but it was another hour before they arrived. She was exhausted, unable to control her limbs, her stomach roiling with each beat of the stallion's hooves.

There were a few men gathered around a large fire, a cast iron pot hanging from a tripod, the scent of stew filling the clearing. Tents dotted the edges, a rough cabin dominating the south end, trees in various stages of the logging progress all along the east.

As Rikter reined up near the fire, a middle-aged man rose, his skin weathered and rough, a scar along his receding hairline glinting in the firelight. He cleared his throat, hand unmistakably near the knife on his belt.

Rikter nodded from the saddle, holding Tayla around the middle as she sagged. "My pardons, good men," he began, his words shifting in her ears. The princess could hear something else behind them, a buzz of power, and it caused her stomach to churn further. "My bride and I have become lost from our party, and we are attempting to rejoin them."

"Ain't no one been here in weeks," the standing man said. His eyes were glassy as he narrowed them, glaring at the baron and the princess. "Ain't even heard anybody nearby. You sure they came this way?"

"Actually, we are not sure." The buzzing became louder, and Tayla winced uncontrollably. She gritted her teeth, attempting to keep her composure, and Rikter's hand stroked her stomach, almost soothing. "As I said, we seek them. I do know our lodge is on the other side of this forest, so I may join them there if nothing else."

The man, obviously the leader, stepped closer, staring at Tayla. She shivered, pressing herself back into the vampire's arms, seeking safety. Like an insect on her skin, she could feel this man's lust creeping towards her. Along with it came the hunger of the men behind them. Her stomach threatened to rise on her as images of Meghan's rape filled her mind. She raised her hands to grip Rikter's protective arm, wrapping her fingers tight into his flesh.

Anye tossed his head, snorting as the leader got too close. The logger glared at the horse, then stared up at Rikter. "So what exactly do you want then? We ain't got anyone to spare to guide nobles through the woods."

Tayla watched the logger's face go slack, his eyes glazing over as Rikter spoke. "We would ask hospitality. I will pay for anything we take, but my lady here needs to rest. She is ill, and weak, and needs something nourishing to finish our journey. I am sure I can find my own way through the woods."

The logger blinked, giving his head an imperceptible shake. He frowned briefly, looking once more at Tayla, then smiled broadly. "I got a girl no older than her. It would be horrible if I turned you two away from our fire." He jerked his head towards the stew pot. "C'mon down, have some lunch. I'll give you my cabin so as she can rest up."

Rikter dismounted swiftly, turning to catch Tayla as she toppled from the saddle. His hands were firm under her arms, guiding her to the ground. Her knees buckled, and the vampire kept his grip on her, gazing into her eyes. "Are you all right?" he whispered, the onyx pools of his stare captivating her.

"I shall recover," she replied, licking parched lips. Her legs wobbled as Rikter tucked her against his side, following the logger to his cabin.

The man chattered on, unaware of the interplay between the two of them, talking of how his girl was recently married to a banker, and how proud he was that she was moving up in the world. He led them into the cramped space, shoving dirty clothing from the bed, pulling a chair out from the worn desk. "It ain't much, but I call it home." He took one of Tayla's hands in his calloused grip, looking into her green eyes, and smiled. "Congratulations on such a protective man, m'dear. Now lay down and feel better." He left, saying he'd bring in some food.

Rikter led Tayla to the rickety bed, helping her stretch out upon it. He brushed loose hairs from her forehead, then pulled the stained covers over her. Almost before he finished, she was deep in sleep.

She stumbles from the forest into a moonlit clearing. Clouds greedily claw at the moon, but they cannot stop its light from pouring down around her. She sniffles, wiping her tears on the back of her worn stuffed bunny. Her clothes are tattered, her skin is scratched and marred, her silken slippers falling off her tiny feet. She's been crying for hours, and her cheeks are frozen with tears. No one has heard her cries, and the dark forest wants to keep her for itself.

She sees a figure standing before her, his clothes so dark they absorb the moonlight. His face is a silvery expanse, his eyes and hair dark around the glowing beauty of his features. He reaches out a hand for her, and she runs to him, knowing he will keep her safe. His darkness enfolds her, and she grins with joy. She buries her face against her chest, squirming in his grip as he lifts her, and pulls her head,

blinking, and stares down at him where he kneels, head bowed, hair wet with sweat, skin glistening with his exertions. The muscles of his shoulders tremble, his chest tight, hands clasped behind his back. Maroon welts crisscross his back, standing out against his pale skin, dots of blood welling from the deepest ones. She laughs, one slender hand reaching to his neck. He shifts, keeping his head down, as her nails run across a throbbing welt. His blood spots her alabaster skin, and she lifts it to her lips

press against her small mouth, like an uncle wishing her well, and she can't help but blush. He smells so wonderful, and his arms are warm around her. He grins deeply, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight. She laughs again, dropping her rabbit, wrapping arms tightly around his neck. He speaks to her, but she doesn't listen. He makes her feel safe, and she wants to remain

pressed against his back. He stifles a cry as her naked skin smears the blood and sweat of his wounds. She feels him shake, his legs trembling as he bears her weight on his bended knee. She reaches to his pectorals, raking nails across his skin and nipples, and finally wrenches a cry from his sensual lips. She laughs lowly, mouth against his ear, and tumbles him forward. He hits the ground hard, unable to use his

hands are stroking her back, and she realizes she's standing on her own feet. She looks up, her trembling body pressed against his cold one, and she blushes. She fears not the night, nearly a woman grown, and she has finally found her lover. They feel complete as they stand in the moon's radiance, his smile for her and her alone. Her long hair tangles in his grip, and he murmurs sweet nothings to her, his mouth moving from her mouth to her

neck, a single vein standing near the surface. She purrs at him, grabbing his collar, holding it tight. She feels his breath strain, and the hunger burns hotter in her. He's biting his lip, near to drawing blood, and she can wait no more. She hauls him back to his knees, causing him to choke, and shifts her grip to his long hair. He cries out as she wrenches his head back, forcing him to arch his spine, her eyes watching the line of his body grow tight. She snarls, fangs spearing into his vein,

and a moan leaves her lips. He's so gentle with her, laying her in the sweet grasses, cradling her in his arms. Darkness protects her, cutting off the moonlight, his mouth kissing her neck. She wraps her arms around his neck and shoulders, and offers himself to her. He croons deep in his chest, and opens his mouth. She welcomes his fangs into her flesh with delight.

Tayla's body shook, and she cried out in panic. The blanket tangled around her, and she thrashed, attempting to sit up. Movement at her side, and the princess turned with a scream, pulling away from the darkness she saw there. "Leave me alone," she shrieked, swatting at pale hands seeking her. Icy fingers brushed her skin, and she screamed again.

Rikter clamped a hand over her mouth, cutting the scream short, pulling her against him. His face was angry, his eyes glinting as he glared. "What is wrong with you?" he hissed. "Do you _want_ them to come in here looking for you? Do you have any idea what they thought of doing to you?"

Panic quelled as she gazed into his eyes, her heart climbing down from her throat. Tears spilled, hot and fast, and she nodded once. Rikter kept his hand in place, radiating anger, his other hand tight on the back of her neck. There came a quick knock, and then the door opened. Rikter pulled Tayla against him, shifting his hands so it seemed he was cradling her. The princess looked at the head logger, panic once more shifting through her middle.

"Is she all right?" The logger's voice was harsh, a hint of threat in it.

Rikter nodded, meeting his gaze. Tayla heard the buzz behind his words again. "She is more sick than I realized. I do believe my wife is coming down with a fever. It caused her to have a bad dream, and I fear she disturbed you for naught. As soon as she refreshes herself, we shall be gone."

The logger nodded his head, eyes glazed again, and left the cabin. "What did you do to him?" Tayla whispered in awe.

The vampire rose from the bed, sighing as he rose. "You forget yourself, little rose, but I will forgive you this time." She swallowed hard, lowering her head. It was a moment before Rikter continued. "I simply suggested to his mind that he wanted to protect you. That he'd prefer you to smile than to rape you." He turned on a heel, and she felt the weight of his stare. "Did you feel their intentions when we rode up?" She nodded swiftly, the tail of her hair falling over her shoulder. "Then why did you scream like that? Do you want me to kill them all?"

She looked up, gasping in shock, realizing he would have easily slaughtered them all to protect her. He'd killed his own man for touching her, what were anonymous loggers. The realization chilled her blood. "I-" The words died in her throat, and she had to work to get her mouth wet enough to speak. "I was having a nightmare. I apologize, my lord. I did not know who you were when I woke."

He narrowed his eyes, contemplating her. "A nightmare, you say?" She nodded, shifting to a better position on the bed. "You told me you had odd dreams. How many of them are nightmares?"

She licked her lips, wringing her hands together. "This one was different. I am not normally frightened so intensely by my dreams. But this...there was some blond woman...and a bound man..." She paused. _Who was that other woman? Why did it keep shifting like that? And what was that end? I am never an adult in these dreams. I am always rescued, never does he turn into a lover._

Tayla lifted her head, drawing a deep breath. Rikter was frowning, his lips parted slightly as if shocked. "This dream was like someone else's dream. It was like someone was showing me images." She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, speaking before she realized. "Were you showing me these things?"

Rikter snarled, crossing the room in a stride. He grabbed her wrists in one hand, the other going to her throat. He cut off her breath before she could scream, and the bones in her wrists grated as he held her. "You think to accuse me of invading your dreams?" He shook her, and she coughed, pressure building in her head. "How dare you!"

He flung her to the floor, and she landed roughly on knees and elbows. Tayla drew several shuddering breaths, her gorge threatening to rise. Rikter grabbed her ponytail, pulling her to her feet, and she managed to bite off any noise.

His eyes were furious, and yet there was a hint of fear behind them. He shook her once more, breathing heavily as she tried to maintain her footing. "You are a servant. You don't get to accuse me of anything. You don't get to question me. You do what you're told." He stroked her face, sneering. "And you definitely don't have to fear me invading your dreams and seducing you there." With a snarl, he stepped away from her, and she stumbled, catching herself on the chair back.

His anger clogged the air, and Tayla felt dizzy. She collapsed to her knees, sucking in air desperately, her heart thundering in her ears. It was several moments before she felt normal, before his anger evaporated. Drawing a full breath, she remained on her knees as she spoke. "I apologize, Master. I was not thinking. You are right. Will you forgive me?"

She felt him shift, heard him turn to look at her. _I must keep myself safe. Irking him is not the way to ensure my survival. If I must call him master to make him keep me, I shall._

He approached on soft feet, and knelt before her. His hand was gentle as he lifted her chin, and she managed not to flinch. Tayla sighed softly as she gazed into his black eyes, feeling the mysteries of the night lurking behind them. His thumb traced her lower lip, and he simply looked at her for many moments. "I forgive you, little rose."

She blushed, casting her eyes down, and spoke softly. "If I seem too forward or confused, it is simply that I am adjusting to all this. Your behavior before...before all..." She could not force the words rape and attack past her lips.
His thumb froze in the middle of her lips, shushing her. She looked back up, saw the gentle look he was giving her. "I should be the one to apologize for your confusion. I really did intend to woo and bed you. But everything changed. I've changed my mind. I want to test you. I want to know what you can do." His gaze intensified, boring into her soul, and she whimpered quietly. "I want to know who you are."

I could tell him, right now. Just blurt it out, end the charade. Surely he would not hurt me if I were a princess, if I threw myself at his mercy. I would even let him have his way with me if it meant he would let me go.

The words built in her chest, and just as she gained the strength to say them, he rose and held his hand out. "Come, my servant. Eat your lunch, and let us get back on the road." A single tear slipped down her cheek as the words died. She accepted his hand, and let herself be led by him.

Chapter 13

"Just what the hell are you bringing into my house?" the petite woman asked, leaning against the door jamb. Tayla looked down at her, entranced by the floor-length hair, head lolling as she stared. Rikter held her against him, otherwise she'd have fallen.

There was laughter in his voice when he spoke. "I love you too, Starbeth." Tayla saw the woman smile, saw the faint curve of fang behind her rouged lips, and frowned slightly. _More vampires._

She moved aside, allowing Rikter to bring Tayla into her elegant house. It was more hunting lodge than mansion, with wood paneled walls and animal heads everywhere. Lamps gave off a buttery light, softening the look of the place. While no palace, Tayla blearily noted that it was still a large house.

"So why are you lugging around a human, my love? And why are you bringing her to this den of serpents?" Starbeth closed the door, smirking up at Rikter. She seemed impossibly small next to the man, his bootheels giving him another two inches above her.

Rikter shifted Tayla, and she tried to support some of her weight. Three days in the saddle, Rikter leeching most of her pain, and the princess was beyond exhausted. She'd found herself hardly able to eat, and most of her meals came back on her within an hour. She couldn't sleep, the cold radiating from the hard ground causing every abused joint to ache. Rikter grew more concerned for her, and pushed his horses to their limits in an attempt to get her to this house. He'd mentioned that it was out of the way, but the ride had become a blur. Tayla wasn't sure what had been happening to her lately.

"She's my new handmaid. I rescued her from the north, and I'm taking her home." He ran a hand over Tayla's bedraggled hair, and made a soft noise. "She's not a rider though, and it's tearing her up. I was hoping you could help."

Starbeth made a cooing noise, touching Tayla's shoulder. The princess met her midnight blue gaze, and tried to smile, tried to say anything. Her breath caught in her throat as her back spasmed, and she bit her lip.

The female vampire looked up at Rikter with a frown. "Are you actually able to share her pain?"

Rikter nodded, and Tayla felt his tremor echoing her own. "You don't think I'd have picked any old girl to be my handmaid, do you?"

Starbeth chuckled, helping to support Tayla, leading them up a flight of stairs. "I don't think men can have handmaids. You have valets and the like."

Rikter managed a strained laugh, scooping Tayla into his arms as her knees gave out. "And what is a female valet but a handmaid?"

Starbeth shook her head, her long hair rippling with the movement, and guided them into a common room. Tayla wondered at their camaraderie as she was laid out on an overstuffed couch. Rikter sat beside the princess, holding her hand, yet looking at Starbeth as she searched through a cabinet in the wall.

"I don't have anything for her to eat, right at hand. I'll have to send a runner out to fetch something from the farmers in the next dell over. But I can give her something for the pain, something to help her sleep, and something to help her recover from blood loss."

"I'm not feeding from her," Rikter said swiftly, looking down and stroking Tayla's face.

The girl could feel the other vampire's surprise. "Not...feeding?" Bottles clanked together, and she set her medicines down on the end table, moving back into Tayla's line of sight. Starbeth was frowning, eyes brighter as her pale countenance contemplated the girl lying on her couch. "Mind if I ask why?"

Rikter smiled softly, running fingers through Tayla's tangled hair. "She's different. I decided I wanted to know more about that."

Starbeth shrugged, and began to prepare a drink for the princess. "Your loss, I guess. So who have you been feeding on?" Tayla's eyes slipped closed as the warmth seeped into her body. She heard Rikter responding to their host, heard them bantering, but the words made no sense through her doze.

Rikter was suddenly pulling her to a sitting position. "You need to drink this," he whispered. "It will make you feel better."

Tayla nodded her head softly, looking at the muddied drink Starbeth handed her. It tasted bitter, and she almost refused it, but Rikter held her head still. Gulping it down quickly, Tayla fought the urge to spit it back out. As it hit her stomach, warmth spread, heating her blood, and she sighed in delight.

Rikter kissed her ear. "I'm going to release your pain now. It's going to hurt, but Starbeth says the drink should help you sleep through it."

Tayla frowned, hearing his words, but not understanding them, when white hot pain lanced up her back. Her knees throbbed, and her inner thighs felt raw and scraped. She cried out, gritting her teeth, clutching at Rikter's arm. Starbeth made a noise, but Tayla didn't look at her. The heat from her stomach pulsed with her heart, and she felt it seek the pain. Rikter held her close, tucked under his chin, until her body began to relax. He settled her on the couch, and Starbeth drew a crocheted blanket across her. Darkness was most welcome as it claimed her.

Her rest was fitful, and she tossed on the couch, her body singing with aches and pains. She sweated as if with fever, and she cried out in pain. Her discomfort became too much to sleep through, and Tayla sat up, eyes bleary, but awake. Her mouth was filled with a sour flavor, and her skin was damp to the touch. Drawing a deep breath, she swung her trembling legs to the floor, and found they didn't hurt near as much as she suspected. Slowly, the princess rose, and shuffled carefully from the common room.

Lamps still burned throughout the house, and from somewhere above a female voice rang out with pleasure. Tayla blushed, and continued her search. Many of the rooms on this floor were locked, so she made her way down the stairs. Those rooms were dark and unoccupied, but she eventually came upon a bathing room. A porcelain tub stood proud in the center, a privy tucked in the corner in a closet. Tayla went to relieve herself, looking forward to a warm bath. When finished with that duty, the girl sought the hot water. A copper boiler rested in another closet, pipes leading to the tub. Embers glowed beneath the boiler, and the metal still gave off heat. Smiling, the princess began drawing water.

Breathless with her exertions, Tayla rested on a bench, slowly unlacing her boots. Her head throbbed, and she kept closing her eyes to lessen the pain, but she could not return to sleep. Steam began filling the air as water tumbled from the spigot, splashing around the tub. She drew a deep breath, and relaxed. _Nothing like a hot bath to relieve aches. And to get all this grime off my body._ Stepping free from her boots, Tayla began undoing her shirt, approaching the tub.

A sickly feeling filled the air, and she bit her lip, glancing around. In the doorway stood a trio of vampires, their eyes locked on her bedraggled form. The girl shuddered, finding it hard to breathe, taking a step away from them.

The moment drug on, the only sound the splashing water. Finally the vampire in front, a stout blond with an open shirt, stepped forward, smiling. "It's nice of that lord to leave us some entertainment," he leered, muddy brown eyes gleaming as he studied Tayla further.

"I am not-" Her words caught in her throat as a wave of dizziness passed through her. Steadying herself against the tub, she spoke loudly. "I am no one's entertainment. Leave me alone."

The swarthy one ran a hand across his face, shifting as if uncomfortable in the light, his eyes darting everywhere as he spoke. "Is dat all ya can say? Leave ya be?" He laughed at a private joke, and mumbled in a foreign tongue.

The blond nodded his head, striding purposefully towards the princess. "He brings up an interesting point. You don't seem all that disturbed by our presence. Do you _want_ us to have our way with you?"

She shivered, putting the tub between her and the blond vampire. "I belong to Baron Rikter. He would be upset if I were to come to harm."

The blond laughed, one hand playing with his lower tummy, pushing his pants down his hips, exposing a soft trail of blond hair. "Well Baron Rikter wouldn't have left you out here for us if he wasn't offering."

"He was _not_ offering," she sputtered, face warming with rage. Her voice was ragged, and the throbbing aches of her body threatened to overwhelm her. _At least they did not come upon me when I drowsed._ "I am his servant, and I am not meant for your ilk." Contempt filled her voice, and she drew herself up proudly.

The third vampire remained silent, but was circling behind her. His lust felt like a blazing fire pressing against her back, and Tayla forced herself not to react. She kept her green eyes locked on the blond before her, staring him down with her best arrogant mask.

The blond laughed again, and moved suddenly, blurring around the tub, catching Tayla in his arms. She cried out, but the sound was cut off by his mouth when he claimed a kiss. His tongue was cold as it invaded her mouth, his fangs brushing her lip as he practically devoured her. She pressed at his chest in a futile attempt to escape, his grip wringing pain from her back and hips. She gagged at the stale stench of him, and felt tears of frustration building.

She stumbled backwards when he released her, wrenching her back. Dizziness and nausea warred within her, and Tayla collapsed against the side of the tub. One of the other vampires moved, and she gave a strangled cry, forcing herself to her feet and away from the trio. Ignoring the burning pain restarting in her back, Tayla stood, moving towards the door.

The silent one cut off her retreat, looming before her suddenly. She screamed as his hands clasped her head, pulling her against him. His kiss was less sloppy, though much harder, bruising her lips, his nails grazing her scalp. He pressed his body against hers, trying to mold them together, and she whimpered as she struggled to be free. Tears burned her cheeks, sliding across his hands, and her heart raced.

He let her go, and she collapsed, only to crawl towards the door. Her thoughts were vacant, so focused on freedom was she. She gulped in steamy air, the wooden floor digging into her hands and knees.

Tayla made it out the door before the swarthy one grabbed her. His hand was harsh in her hair, yanking her back to her feet. She screamed as he held her by the length of her hair, ripping her shirt the rest of the way open, pawing at her breasts. He bit her lower lip, growling faintly, pressing her face to his, reeking of mold and rot. Tayla gagged, scratching at his neck and face in her desperation to be free. He cast her aside, hissing as one of her nails gouged his cheek. Her head struck the wall of the hallway, and stars danced in her vision.

"Ya bitch," he snarled, striding towards her. She whimpered, trying to flee, but her limbs would not respond. He grabbed her by the throat, and terror raced through her veins as he lifted her, pressing her harshly against the wall. "Ya gonna pay fer ruinin' me looks."

The blond laughed loudly, touching the swarthy one's shoulder, and reached for Tayla. The imprisoning hand loosed, and the princess stumbled, her knees threatening to buckle. The blond was by her side swiftly, touching her face, pressing his hips against hers, holding her to the wall. His breath was warm and wet as he spoke to her, his eyes capturing her gaze. "You know what? I had a kitten with eyes the same color as yours. That kitten just _loved_ it when I would pet her." He ground his hips against her. "Do you want me to pet you?"

Tayla shook her head slightly, crying freely. The other two vampires were pressing close, their auras overwhelming, and she felt their hunger clawing at her flesh. "I want you to let me go," she whispered, voice broken. She was dizzy, struggling to keep upright, even with the blond supporting her.

He chuckled, mouth moving towards her neck. "My kitten used to lie, say she didn't like being petted either." His kissed her neck, sliding his fat lips up her cheek, moving to her mouth again. "But we have tricks to get naughty kittens in the mood."

His hands were rough on her skin as he slid them across her shoulders, sliding her shirt from her body. She pulled away, pressing hard into the wall, trying to move. He pressed a thigh between her legs, keeping her in place, and Tayla whimpered. Pulling her forward for another kiss, his hand fierce in her hair, he shoved the shirt free of her body. It fell heavily to the floor, and she shivered as the blond turned his hands to her breasts, breaking the kiss as he pushed her against the wall again. He squeezed them forcefully, and Tayla cried out. He cocked his head, sneering lustfully as he handed one wrist to the swarthy one. That vampire greedily claimed her hand, wrapping steely fingers around her flesh. His mouth enveloped one of her fingers, and she shuddered as he sucked at her flesh.

The blond claimed her mouth once more, and she choked at the force with which he kissed her. His hands pawed down her sides, to her waist, and to the top of her pants. He broke the kiss, shifting to the side, his fingers working on the laces of her borrowed breeches as the quiet vampire took his place. Tayla shuddered, collapsing as he touched her, his hands burning cold.

The three vampires followed her to the ground, still touching and holding her. The quiet vampire stared intently at her, his eyes dark with lust, his mouth parted. She watched helplessly as he lifted his left hand to his mouth, his fangs glittering as he bit down on the heel of his palm. Blood welled, dark and oozing, as he moved his hand to her mouth. Tayla tried to pull away, but his other hand snagged in her hair, holding her still. She gagged as the metallic flavor on her tongue, trying to close her mouth, but he wedged the wound between her teeth.

The blond's mouth was nibbling at the inside of her elbow, keeping her arm taut. She struggled between them, but they held her still. Her eyes closed as the blood filled her mouth. The flavor was overwhelming, oozing across every surface, and soon she would have to swallow or choke. The silent vampire rubbed his fingers through her hair, watching her patiently. Finally she swallowed, her teeth grazing his skin, and she groaned as the fluid seared her throat.

She writhed suddenly, sensations racing from her middle. A new type of warmth flooded her veins, and it wrung a moan from her throat. The vampires all sighed, smelling the change in her body, and shifted their holds on her. Tayla kept her eyes closed, her head spinning, and felt someone's nail dig into her breast. She cried out, the hand moving from her mouth, drawing a deep breath as an icy tongue found her skin. Arms cradling her, they moved her away from the wall, someone working on removing her brassier. The air hit her flesh like a slap, her nerves overly sensitive, and she bit her lip as a mouth found her nipple.

Tongues lapped at her flesh, the three of them trading off at the trail of blood marring her flesh. One of them kissed her again, sloppy, spreading blood across her face. The princess found herself returning their kiss, and she frowned suddenly. A little voice cried out inside her that she should fight them, that she should ignore them. Nails raked her back, and she arched against whichever vampire was currently nuzzling her breast.

Tears slid from her eyes, and she knew she should escape, but she could not leave their arms.

Anger filled the room like a thick cloud, and Tayla moaned, a familiar presence on the edge of her senses. She wedged her eyes open in time to see Rikter grab the swarthy vampire by his hair, flinging the man back through the bathing room door. A smile graced her lips, relief filling her as Rikter yanked the other two vampires from her. Someone's nails gouged her skin, but the sting went unnoticed as she collapsed to the ground, staring intently as her captor fought with her rapists.

The blond swung at Rikter, and he dodged, his hair swinging about as he moved. His strong hands grabbed the blond's arm, wrenching it, wringing a cry from the other man. Tendons creaked, and something popped, causing the blond to groan. He collapsed to his knees, and Rikter cast him aside.

The swarthy vamp pounced through the door way, lashing out with a foot, and caught Rikter in the thigh. The baron grimaced, baring his fangs, and lunged. His hand was crooked into a claw, and he grabbed the vampire by the throat, slamming him against the wall. Tayla saw blood spill from the other man's throat as Rikter dug his fingers into the tender flesh. The swarthy vampire gurgled, attempting to kick Rikter's ankle, but the pale man shifted, his arm tensing. Blood splattered across the walls, landing on Tayla's face, as her master tore the throat out of the vampire.

The silent vampire stood by, eyes narrowed, crouched along the wall. He backed off several hurried steps, hissing warningly, hands up to ward off any blows. Rikter strode implacably towards him, face a mask of hatred, hands crooked at his sides. Tayla saw movement, saw the blond rising from the ground, a slender knife glittering in his undamaged hand, and she cried out inarticulately. Rikter turned, but was unable to ward off the first knife blow. It slashed across his stomach, blood blooming and staining his pale skin. He growled and grabbed the blond by his face, spinning to slam the attacker into the wall. Wood creaked from the force of the blow, and the blond grunted, dazed. Rikter wrenched the blade from his grip, and drove the point into the blond's armpit, angled towards the heart. The stout vampire groaned, collapsing to the floor when Rikter released him.

Tayla had wedged herself to a sitting position, the wall at her back, nerves still trembling. Heat rode through her with her pulse, and she bit her lip as she watched the baron slaughter her would-be rapists. Her eyes caressed his chest, following the line of sculpted abs and blood, watching the movement of the leather pants that hung low on his lips. He strode past her to the quiet vampire, his anger and presence brushing against her, and she moaned softly. She could feel the tremble of his muscles as her own, felt the thrill of the fight, could smell the heavy aroma of blood, and it made her growl beneath her breath.

The silent vampire was nearing a doorway, eyes wide, and darted through as Rikter stepped closer. The black-haired vampire tensed to run after his prey, but paused as Starbeth's voice called to him. "I'll get him, Rikter. Leave off." Tayla turned, her light green eyes narrowing as the naked woman stepped closer, her hair bound back in a tail, looped around her arm. Her pale flesh was marred with welts and bite marks, blood trailing from the inside of her elbow.

Rikter shook where he stood, drawing in deep breaths, blood still trickling from his stomach. His eyes were a tight line, drawing in the surrounding light, and he vibrated with his rage. Nostrils flaring, he held still as Starbeth approached him, stepping gingerly around the wounded vampires, and ran a finger along the slash. She lifted the blood to her lips, and spoke lowly. "Take care of your little girl. I will see to these miscreants." Dark blue eyes turned to Tayla, and she suppressed a shiver. "She needs you more than they need punishment."

Rikter nodded his head, uncrooked his hands, and came back to Tayla. She grinned wickedly at him as he knelt, his eyes roaming her body swiftly. Then his arms were around her, lifting her as he stood, cradling her to his chest. His blood smeared against her skin, and she purred at the sensation. He moved fast, taking her upstairs, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing herself closer to him.

Heartbeats passed as he climbed, two steps at a time. His arms shook with frustration, his mouth a frown as he looked towards the bedroom looming at the end of the hall. He said nothing to the princess, bringing her closer to what was clearly Starbeth's bedroom, the air warm and heavily scented as it came through the open door.

Her eyes found a bite mark on his neck, and she chuckled as she bent her mouth to it, lips brushing his trembling skin. Her teeth grazed his neck, and he stumbled, dropping her legs, groaning. Lust overwhelmed her senses, and he pressed her against the wall, his free hand stroking her side, his thumb finding her aching nipple. Her teeth remained locked at his neck, and the faintest hint of his blood graced her tongue.

Rikter ripped her head from his neck, kissing her fiercely, grinding his groin against her, breathing heavily. She raked her nails down his back, lifting a leg to wrap around his hip, pulling him close. The princess ran a hand between them, stroking his wound, and parted the kiss long enough to flick her tongue over the crimson elixir.

The baron groaned, licking her fingers, eliciting an answering groan from her. "Do you want me?" she asked huskily, tipping her head back, drawing his mouth to her neck.

His hands clenched on her hips, and he shivered, lips against her skin. His hunger burned deep inside her, clenching her loins, whispering through her veins. Her own arms trembled with his restraint, and she rubbed her neck against his mouth wantonly.

"What did they do to you?" he asked in a growl, pushing himself back. He held her against the wall, keeping her from his mouth, and she whimpered. "They didn't just taste your blood, did they? Something else happened."

Tayla rubbed her hands across her stomach and breasts, smearing the drying blood, making a mess of it. She watched the hunger dance in his onyx eyes as she lapped at her hands, clenching her leg around his hip, heel digging into the back of his thigh. "That one that got away, the silent one. He gave me his blood. Let me drink from his hand." She writhed softly, drawing a deep breath, noting how he watched her breasts quiver with the movement. Never before had she felt so intensely feminine. "They all took turns lapping at my blood." Her left hand danced along the edges of the scratch, and she plucked at the sticky scab, drawing fresh blood. "They would have done more had you not shown up."

Rikter shuddered as she pressed her hand to his mouth, his hips bucking reflexively against her, his tongue swarming around her fingers. She sighed, arching her back, then threw herself against him, pressing her warm flesh to his, wrapping the other arm around his back. His hunger surged between the two of them, and he grabbed her about the waist, lifting her from the ground. She wrapped her other leg around him, laughing wildly as he carried her the brief distance to the bedroom.

Candles flickered at their passage as he bore her to a silken bed, throwing them down on it, pinning her to the feather mattress. She grunted as his weight suddenly covered her, tipping her head back. He kissed her neck hungrily, hands exploring her body, and she moaned as she tangled her hands in his hair, guiding him to the wound on her breast.

"You know, I always enjoyed your courtship. You scared me intensely, reminding me of my dreams, like something drawn straight from them." Her voice was a husky purr, yet she could not stop speaking. He drew one of her knees higher up, stroking her thigh and calf as he moved his mouth across her collarbone, growling with each breath he took. "But I think I liked the fear. I like the thought of you pursuing me." She sighed as his lips brushed the wound, his breath tantalizing on her ripped skin. "I like that thought better than the dreams of you and the blond."

He looked up suddenly, a smear of her blood trembling on his lower lip. A deep frown creased his smooth brow, and his hands stopped moving as he stared at her. "What do you mean? What blond?"

Tayla frowned back at him, lifting herself onto her elbows. "I have had a few dreams of you bound, wearing a collar. I am always this alluring blond woman, and you are always scared of me." She tipped her head, thinking. "I never dreamt of her until after you stole me. You are normally rescuing me from something when I dream. I do not like the blond." She shifted, running a hand through his hair. "I like you better like this." Tayla moved to kiss him.

He sat up, pressing a hand against her shoulder, retraining her. "You're drunk," he whispered, eyes suddenly solemn. "You're intoxicated with blood, and you don't know what you're doing." He shook his head, and moved from the bed. "I can't do this. I told you I would only take you if you wanted me to."

Tayla followed him from the bed, face stricken. She ached inside, and tears welled. "No. Do not do this." She reached for him. "I am asking you to have me, to take-" Her words were cut off as he scooped her into his arms, kissing her fiercely, tongue trespassing past her lips. She moaned, melting in his grip, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

The kiss ended slowly, and the princess hung in his arms, breathless. A wave of heat traveled her body, and she felt him tense as she shivered. He stroked her face, running fingers through her hair, then shook his head. "I can't, my sweet rose. I made myself a promise." She pouted, and he brushed his lips across hers again. "There is a desire inside you. I feel it. But I can't abuse you while you're drunk." He kissed her again, moving her towards the bed. "But I will make you this promise," he whispered into her hair, laying her back amongst scented sheets. "When you stop fearing me, if you can seduce me while sober, I will give you everything you desire."

Tayla whimpered as his arms left her, then sighed as darkness leapt unsuspecting at her. She fell asleep with the taste of his blood and mouth filling her senses.

Chapter 14

Tayla sighed deeply, stirring, warm and comfortable. She stretched, and her eyes fluttered open when she realized she was floating in a tub of scented water. The princess sat up, splashing water around her, looking wildly at her surrounds.

Gentle laughter reached her ears, and Tayla spun, panic filling her. Starbeth stood near the tub, draped in a dark blue robe. Her hair was braided tightly and wrapped around her slender neck several times. She was smiling broadly, her eyes dancing with humor. "It took you longer than I expected to wake back up. I thought you'd turn into a fish first."

Tayla shrank back in the tub, wiping her face, drawing a deep breath. Her fingers were pruned, so she had indeed been in the bath for quite a while. Hugging herself, she gazed at Starbeth, speaking in a soft voice. "How long _have_ I been in this water?"

The vampire moved closer, resting her hip against the edge of the tub. This was not the same bathing room as downstairs; this was much more intimate and personal. "I'd say an hour. I forgot. I got so distracted cleaning you, washing out that hair of yours." Starbeth smirked. "I haven't had another girl around for a while, so it was very enjoyable."

Tayla blinked, shivering, wondering at how she'd gotten here. She rubbed her skin, feeling the scented oils that filled the water, and her thumb brushed across something rough on her chest. Glancing down, she saw a scratch across the top of her breast, slender yet long. It stung when she rubbed it, the scab flaking off under her touch. She looked up frantically at her hostess, frowning as she struggled to remember anything since her arrival at the woman's house.

"Who did this?" she whispered.

Starbeth sighed, trailing fingers across the surface of the water. "I was afraid of this. Some people just don't react to my herbs well. You should have stayed asleep last night, but you got up and encountered some other guests of mine. After Rikter rescued you from them, you passed out. But you must have had some terrible nightmares, because I have never seen anyone kick and moan that much in your sleep." She chuckled again, rising from the edge of the tub. "Which was a long sleep in itself. Rikter has been beside himself with frustration, worried about you."

Tayla shook her head, wet hair clinging to exposed skin, floating along the surface. "I do not understand. Other guests? What would he need to rescue me from? Where is he now?"

Starbeth arched a fine brow, her eyes intent on the girl. "He told me the particulars of your meeting him, so I wonder why you're so concerned." Tayla blushed, sinking further into the water, causing the woman to laugh. "You blush so prettily. It goes well with your pale skin."

Starbeth drew a chair out from a vanity, gesturing for Tayla to join her. The princess rose from the bath, water sheeting from her body, and she found a towel beside the tub. She wrapped it around herself, approaching Starbeth, leaving wet footprints on the tiled floor. She sat in the chair, back to the vampire, and shivered slightly as the water dried on her skin.

The woman took another towel to Tayla's hair, smiling to the girl in the mirror. "I didn't mean to tease you, my young woman. But I wanted to see your reaction. Wanted to see how much of last night you remembered."

Tayla licked her lips, wincing at the sudden grumbling in her stomach. "I do not remember anything." She wrapped an arm across her stomach, biting her lip. "My apologies, Lady Starbeth, but could I beg something to eat from you?"

The vampire nodded, leaving the towel over the girl's hair. "Let me get the food started. I'll help you get dressed while you eat."

Tayla finished drying herself while Starbeth left the room, ordering someone to prepare the princess's food. She didn't remember seeing servants, but she barely remembered drinking Starbeth's concoction before passing out. The vampire brought the girl into her bedroom, offering her a silk robe to wait in as she searched for clothes that would fit.

"You're just so much taller than I, with much bigger hips. I don't think I have a thing you could wear."

Tayla blushed, lounging across Starbeth's bed. "I have been wearing Baron Rikter's clothes. It's the only thing he had after we started out."

Starbeth grinned. "That explains the atrocious fit of those rags you were in. That ass may round out well in his pants, but you don't have enough chest or shoulders to wear anything else of his." Tayla swallowed hard, fighting down the blush forming across her cheeks.

The food arrived as Starbeth found a few things she thought would fit. Tayla ate ravenously, pulling on the silk underwear between bites. The vampire had found a wrap-around skirt she thought would have enough girth for Tayla's waist, and a stretch knit top that shouldn't tear when the girl put it on. The skirt dug into her middle, although not uncomfortably, and the top revealed more than it hid. The girl blushed, her breasts forced into the fabric, bulging and cleaving at the low neckline. It bordered on obscene, and made the princess realize that she was developing into a fine young woman, no longer lanky and featureless.

Starbeth smiled brightly, nodding at her achievement. "They look good, if a little tight." She smiled. "And that burgundy color goes so well with your hair." The vampire approached, fingers moving softly along the pink wound on the girl's breast. "It's good to see that old unguent my aunt taught me still works. This is healing so much faster than it would have alone. I must know, girl, how have you managed to grow up with no scars and this lovely pale skin? Don't the girls in your country enjoy hunting and riding and the outdoors?"

Tayla's tongue grew thick, but she forced the words out anyway. "I never had much time for all that. There was always something else to do."

Starbeth quirked an eyebrow. "I suppose there was," she said, turning away. "Come, sit down. Let me do your hair, and complete the outfit." She looked back over her shoulder. "I'll even tell you about last night."

Tayla sat up straight in the chair, letting the vampire work with her damp hair. Starbeth had a lovely voice, and she quickly recounted the tale of the attack and Rikter's impassioned rescue. As she spoke, she worked braids and loops into the girl's hair, drawing it back from her face, yet leaving most of it loose down her back.

"Rikter watched over you the rest of last night, worried about you. He wouldn't let me help at first," she said, tying the ends of Tayla's hair with a ribbon. "I haven't seen him this infatuated with a girl in quite a while. Makes you kind of lucky."

Tayla almost scoffed out loud, but bit her lip to refrain from commenting. _If this is what she considers luck, what would a curse be like?_ She laced her own boots as Starbeth pulled on a simple dress, remaining naked beneath it. The girl stood tall by the chair as she waited for whatever came next.

Starbeth smiled as she stared at the princess. "You make quite a lovely sight. I think my sweet Rikter is going to be very pleased by the effort." Tayla blushed, ducking her head.

The vampire reached a hand out to her, and Tayla numbly took it. "Come on, my dear. Rikter waits for you in my stables. He wants to teach you how to ride tonight." Tayla swallowed hard, her heart suddenly racing, and followed Starbeth through the house.

The stables were an impressive spread of buildings, almost as large as the main house. A dozen bright-eyed beasts poked heads over stall doors as the women entered. Lamps burned from sconces around a riding ring, lighting the sand and surrounds. Rikter stood in the middle, hair pulled into a topknot, dressed in black leathers again, scratching his stallion under the halter. He turned when Starbeth cleared her throat, and the princess blushed instantly at his reaction.

His mouth parted as he stepped towards them, his eyes wide with wonderment. He reached for Tayla, yet the girl remained rooted to the spot. Her heart beat tremulously, and her mind stirred with something she should remember. Starbeth nudged the girl, and she stumbled forward, boots sinking into the sand, confusing her balance.

The baron took her hand, his fingers gentle and trembling, and brought it to his lips. She sighed as he kissed her knuckles almost lovingly, dark eyes looking up from that pose. "It would seem you are feeling better, my sweet rose." His voice was breathless, and it stirred something deep inside her.

"It also seems I owe my gratitude. Lady Starbeth has explained the events of last night to me."

The female vampire laughed gently. "I'm no lady, you can trust that."

Rikter ignored the side comment, straightening up, taking a step closer to the princess. His scent immediately enveloped her, and she felt her entire body flush. She swallowed hard as he lifted a hand to her cleavage, brushing fingertips across the wound marring her skin. His eyes lingered on the expanse of pale skin, then finally met her green eyes. "She explained it to you? Does that mean you don't remember?"

She trembled, caught in his stare, feeling the weight of it. Terror threatened to overwhelm her as she attempted to dredge up memories of the night before. Her vision dimmed as she stared into his eyes, her entire body feeling trapped. Her body shook, and Rikter frowned, touching her cheek.

"Are you all right?"

Tayla cast her eyes down, shaking violently, disjointed images dancing across her mind's eye. Rikter wrapped her in his arms, whispering to her, but she heard nothing. She was caught up in her memories, keening slightly, biting her lip. She saw arms holding her down, felt unfamiliar mouths upon her, nails digging into her skin. As Rikter stroked her hair, she shook violently and different images replaced those.

Candles all around, the sound of flesh on flesh, sweat and incense choking the air. Blond hair cascading around a slender form, male flesh parting beneath long nails, pain filled groans assaulting her ears. Fangs in a long neck, strength draining from pale flesh, a name whispered in urgent desire. Unheard by the princess, the name slipped from her own lips.

Rikter pushed Tayla to arm's length, calling her name, shaking her once. He was frowning sharply at her, his mouth drawn down, pain lingering around his eyes. The girl felt tears running down her cheeks, and stared up at him guiltily. "Sorry, my lord," she whispered, choking down a sob. She clasped her hands in front of her, breathing deep his concern, feeling it fill her.

He bent suddenly and kissed away her tears, startling the young woman. "No worries, my little rose. I shouldn't have pressed you on the point." He smiled endearingly, and kissed her forehead, keeping his arms on her shoulders. After a long moment of gazing at her, his smile deepened, and he let her go. "Do you feel up to riding?"

He gestured towards Cehs, and the mare tossed her head, mane bouncing around her strong neck. Sliding a hand down Tayla's back, the baron led her closer to the horse. Cehs stood still, blinking slowly, but Anye forced himself to Rikter's side. The vampire laughed, shoving the horse to the side, pulling Tayla closer to him.

The girl looked up at the mare, at the saddle on her back. The princess couldn't see across the leather seat, and she swallowed hard. "I am not sure, my lord. If you want me to..." She let her words trail off, remembering the last time she had questioned his words. Biting her lip, forcing her hands apart, she nodded once. "I will try."

Rikter grinned, pushing Anye more forcefully away. "That's my rose," he said lowly, pulling her to the mare's side. His hands were broad and warm on her waist, and the girl attempted to disguise her nervous trembling. Her mouth was dry, and she glanced back at her captor.

"What do I do?" she asked softly. The only other times she'd ridden, the girl had been side saddle on a gentle palfrey, and had mounted from a block. With Rikter, the vampire had practically thrown her into the saddle before he mounted up. Being in a skirt added to her nervousness, and she had no desire to be thrown into a saddle wearing such a compromising outfit.

He shifted, and his chest brushed against her hair. "Put one hand on the saddle horn, one on the cantle, and your left foot in the stirrup. Then you pull yourself into the saddle, and swing your leg over." Tayla frowned, glancing at him in disbelief. He grinned broadly, his humor obvious. The princess was glad he no longer stared at her so concernedly. "I'll help you up, rest assured. In time, you'll get used to this."

"You're going to have some problems with that skirt," Starbeth said. "Don't sit on it, or you'll tear a seam."

Tayla blushed suddenly, wondering how she was going to sit astride with a skirt like this. She looked down, ignoring Rikter's hands as they stroked her waist slightly, and worked at the problem. The skirt came to her knees, and was full. Sighing, she grabbed the saddle as best she could, and lifted her leg up as far as it would go. Frustration filled her as she barely managed to get her foot into the stirrup. Anye was dancing behind Rikter, making the girl nervous, and making her appreciate how patient Cehs was. Rikter's hand tensed on her middle, and then he lifted her up to the saddle. Muscles strained, and she kicked her right foot up, glancing the heel across Rikter, and managed to slither to a seat on the mare's back. Rikter watched her carefully as she settled, drawing the skirt out from under her. The princess slid her right foot into the other stirrup, then shook as she glanced to the ground. She bit her lip, clenching tight to the saddle leather.

The vampire was smiling gently as he handed her the reins. "We'll use a mounting block next time."

She mouthed her thanks, numb hands taking the reins. Cehs shifted underneath her, and the girl's stomach clenched as she gripped the saddle protectively again. Rikter stroked the horse's face, taking her harness in his grip, and clucked to her. Cehs took a great step forward, Tayla lurching in the saddle, and then they were walking around the ring.

Does he do these things to me on purpose? Why else make me struggle into the saddle, wearing this unseemly outfit no less? I am slipping and sliding in this saddle at just a walk. It will only get worse when we are out on the open road.

_I cannot learn to ride this quickly!_ she cried to herself. Her vision was intent on the back of Cehs's head as she refused to look at the moving ground beneath her. Her knuckles ached as she clung to the saddle, and her lip felt close to bleeding where she bit it. _It has to be some kind of cruel joke. All of this is a joke. Humiliate the young girl, make her too scared to react._

_And it is working. Even this attack they tell me about. How better to make me dependent upon him than to tell me he is the only one protecting me from the world._ A sob built in her chest, yet the princess refused to let it escape. She gasped as Rikter brought the horse to a trot, running beside her, smiling warmly up at Tayla as he did so. She attempted to smile back at him, her stomach churning wildly.

_Yet this is what I wanted. I brought this upon myself. I wanted to be rescued from all that my father would give me. To be sure, I wanted to be cherished and loved and protected. But could I learn to live like this? Could I make him love me, elevate me from his servant?_ She closed her eyes, pondering the possibilities, her chest tightening with sorrow.

Rikter spoke a word, and Cehs jolted to a halt, rocking the girl in the saddle. Her eyes flew open in surprise, then Tayla was crying out in fright as the mare reared, pawing the air before her. Less than a heartbeat passed before the mare was back on all fours, snorting loudly, but it felt like an eternity to the princess. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she clung to the saddle, her entire body shaking.

Rikter's hands reached for her, and she gladly collapsed into them, letting him pull her from the saddle. She threw her arms around him, sobbing into his leather clad chest, her heart racing in her throat.

"Oh, little rose, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd get this scared. I was just toying with you. You have to stay alert when riding."

Tayla gasped, pulling back, staring into the broad smile on the vampire's face. "You did that on purpose?"

He nodded, the smile fading a notch. "You were off woolgathering, and that will get you killed on a long run. So I was testing you."

Tayla dropped her arms, tears drying in a flash, anger rumbling in her heart. Frustration surged through her veins, her morose thoughts still spinning through her mind. Unbidden came the images of the blond woman from her dreams and Rikter bound before her. Without realizing it, her hand lashed out, striking Rikter hard on the cheek. "You dog," she hissed.

The crack of flesh on flesh hung in the air, reverberating as the implication sank into the girl's mind. Rikter stared at her, his eyes blank, his mouth a tight line. Starbeth gasped behind them, and the woman's surprise danced across Tayla's awareness.

Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, and it seemed to break the moment. She crumpled, apologies flying to her lips, but Rikter moved faster than her words. His hand lashed out as well, striking her blindingly across the cheek, snapping her head hard to the side. Tears flew, and her legs tangled in her skirts as she attempted to regain her balance. The vampire followed up on the blow, backhanding her in the back of the head. She fell to all fours, sinking into the sand, sobbing out an apology.

His anger seared her nerves, hitting her as hard as his booted foot to her stomach. The air disappeared from her lungs, and she felt a great pressure in her chest as she struggled to draw a relieving breath. Sand made its way into her clothes, scratching at her skin as another kick landed against her ribs. Tears burned her cheeks, blurring her vision, and she collapsed in a heap, unable to move as she heard scuffling movements near her.

"Stop it, Rikter! Leave off." A growl answered Starbeth's voice, another kick landing in Tayla's thigh. The girl rolled away, sand in her mouth, hearing horses snort and dance away from the flurry of movements above her. Dimly she saw Starbeth clinging to Rikter's arm, holding him in place as the princess writhed at their feet. "Don't do this."

Rikter shrugged off the other vampire, casting her to the ground, snarling down at Tayla. The girl whimpered as his hand clasped around her throat, pulling her to her feet, shaking her violently. Her vision dimmed swiftly, and her mouth gasped desperately for breath. Rikter jostled her, and the princess heard Starbeth struggling with him again, but it seemed too little too late. Darkness swallowed the girl.

She kneels in the darkness, feeling the shifting breeze of someone stalking around her. She keeps her hands behind her, keeps her head bowed, knowing they can see her despite the dark. She licks her lips, fighting the urge to rise and move and seek light.

A candle flares into being, and she closes her eyes at the sudden brightness, tears springing to existence. Too long has she waited in the dark. When the pain stops, she opens her eyes, staring straight ahead.

She fears the figure she sees before her, and yet she loves the figure as well. All she can see are robed legs, yet she can feel the strength radiating from them. A gentle hand touches her cheek, lifting her face, and she sighs softly.

He stands before her, hair unbound and to his waist, muscles glistening where they show through the opening of his robe. He smiles warmly, yet his eyes reveal a hunger unimaginable to her. She shakes, wanting to run, wanting to be free, yet she cannot leave his gaze.

His hands run through her hair, possessively, then he reclines in a chair set just behind him. He smiles wider, revealing his fangs, and beckons for her. "Come, my dog," his words echo, his eyes dancing with delight.

She moves, unable to stop herself, and kneels on the edge of his chair. Her hands tremble behind her, and he seems to notice as he touches her collar, pulling her neck down to his mouth. She sighs as his lips brush her ear, his hunger moving across her skin. Her loins tighten, and she knows what he plans to do. She wants him to, wants to fulfill his need, and she suddenly presses against his mouth.

He laughs, holding back, not biting her yet. She whimpers, and he rakes claws down her bare back, welts instantly rising on her delicate skin. She arches in pain, yet he checks the move with his grip on her collar. He tightens his grip, causing the leather to dig into her flesh, and she chokes as her air is cut off. Her face feels tight as the pressure builds, his tongue dancing across her gaping mouth.

As darkness dances across her vision, he finally sinks his fangs into her. She cries out in joy, finding release, and collapses against his body. His arms wrap around her, holding her close, suckling slowly. They have all the time to enjoy each other now.

Tayla woke with a cry, her body jerking spasmodically. She drew several deep breaths, her head cushioned on something cold and suede, gathering her bearings. It was dark, and the air smelled of old rain and loam. A horse snorted, and the girl realized she was moving. Sitting up, she found herself in a buggy, sitting next to Rikter, the moon cresting above a forest.

"What timing," the vampire said softly. The dark trees parted as they topped a hill, and the girl could see warm lights glittering in the darkness below them. "We're almost to my mansion." As Rikter laughed happily, tears fell down her cheeks.

Chapter 15

The princess wiped her tears away, sniffling still, as the buggy made its way down the hill, the trees quickly cutting off sight of the vampire's estate. She swallowed, her mouth cottony and foul, and stretched as best she could. She found herself in Rikter's loose clothes again, and frowned. She ached all over, especially her ribs, and she felt dirty and dusty.

"How long have I been asleep, my lord?"

He glanced at her, then back at Cehs. He slapped the reins against the mare's rump, and she snorted as she picked up the pace. "You mean this time?"

Tayla frowned, looking at her captor, rubbing a painful lump on her side. "I do not understand."

He snorted, looking at the forest around them. Time passed, the buggy bumping along the road, and the princess shivered with cold. When Rikter finally spoke, his eyes were on the horse, his voice low. "What is the last thing you remember, my rose?"

She frowned, making her mind work, shivering as she realized how cold she was. She found a cloak in her lap, its warmth telling her she'd cast it aside when she sat up. Finally she spoke, pulling the cloak around her shoulders. "I recall bathing at Lady Starbeth's house. She allowed me to wear some of her clothes, and I ate, and she said something about an attack." Tayla paused, shaking her head slowly. "It seems like a dream after that point. I see images of a stable, and myself riding, and then darkness and punishment..." Her voice trailed off.

"So you don't really remember the beating." He looked at her, his face unreadable. "Maybe it's better you don't remember it," he said lowly, sorrow filling his voice. "It's not exactly something I'm proud of."

Tayla's blood chilled. "My lord, what do you mean?"

He turned back to driving, his eyes narrowed as he watched the road. He said nothing, and Tayla shifted on the padded seat, waiting for him to speak. She looked around them, seeing the occasional muted color of an autumn tree, a few clouds tattered and strewn across the sky. The forest arched above them, the trees old and tall, thick with shadows and undergrowth. It was not a pleasant looking forest beneath the moonlight. As if to punctuate her impression, a wolf howled mournful in the distance. The girl shuddered, feeling terribly alone, and unconsciously drew closer to the vampire.

He moved silently, wrapping an arm around her, pulling her close to his side, and she allowed herself to be embraced by him. His mouth moved across her hair, his voice distant when he spoke. "Do you find it so easy to seek comfort from the dead?"

"And are you dead, my lord?" came her reply. Her eyes stayed on the forest, and though she felt something strange coming from the vampire, she felt better in his arms.

He heaved a great sigh. "I don't know if it is death. I'm no longer human, that is certain. No disease can take root in this flesh, and my body's cycles crave the nighttime. I still have a heartbeat, and I can still perform some human functions..." His voice trailed off. Tayla let the silence build, lulled by the gentle rock of the buggy. "I simply am what I am. There's no point thinking about it." His voice was terse, his words a final statement. Tayla knew better than to press the point.

"You were going to tell me about what I cannot remember," she prompted quietly.

His arm stiffened, and she felt a distant frustration radiate from him. _Every day seems to bring a strong understanding of other's emotions. How is this possible? Will there come a time when I am aware of thoughts as well?_

"Things were not as happy at Starbeth's house as I would have liked them to be. It was supposed to be a quick stop off, something to help you so I could finish the journey home. Instead..." He paused, sighing again. "Instead, it was something of a torture.

"Guests of Starbeth's attacked you, attempted to rape you. I felt your terror, and I came to you as fast as I could. They had drugged you with their blood, and you were seconds from violation. I killed one of them, I was so angry they had touched you." She felt his anger briefly, then he continued and the awareness went away.

"You passed out after the attack, and slept for a day and a half. Starbeth thought it was some combination of the herbs and the blood, and yet you seemed recovered when you finally woke. You were learning to ride, and I had Cehs scare you. You got a lot more upset than I thought you would, and you slapped me." He paused, and she felt his shudder. "I got really angry, and I ended up beating you until you passed out."

Tayla shook then, terror icing her heart. She could suddenly see his furious face, his eyes pulling in all light as he beat her, as he choked her, as his feet rained upon her. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and he squeezed her tight, continuing his tale in a whisper.

"I told you I was ashamed about it. I especially felt the sorrow when you didn't wake up. You slept all of the night, and I found myself regretting that attack. Starbeth gave you another concoction to keep you asleep through the day, and you still didn't wake that night. I waited until the early morning hours, and then I grew impatient. Starbeth loaned me this buggy, and I left with you.

"You've woken a few times during the journey, usually crying and upset and not knowing why. At times you've complained of horrible dreams, and at other times you seemed to remember our conflict in the stable." He turned his, sniffing Tayla's hair. "I don't even know that you'll remain awake this time, but I hope you do. We're almost home, and I'd hate for you to miss it."

Tayla swallowed hard, wringing her hands beneath the cloak. "How long since we left Lady Starbeth's, my lord?"

"Four days. And it's been a trying four days. I had no idea what it took to care for an unconscious girl."

"I apologize for being a burden," she whispered, crying softly.

Rikter squeezed her shoulders. "Just don't test me anymore. Don't anger me, and I won't lose control, and you won't end up hurt."

Tayla nodded her head, chewing on her lower lip. _If only it were that simple. I could keep from angering him if I understood what was happening to me. Why slap him? Why allow my anger to take over? If something like giving me a good scare would cause me to snap, why did I not react when he cast Meghan to the men?_

I must maintain better control if I am to survive. I do not want to end up like Meghan. I am now completely beyond known lands. I must rely solely upon him for my survival. I cannot afford any more mistakes like this.

She frowned, digging nails into her own hands for a moment. _It is odd to hear myself saying these things. How can I calmly accept that I would be better off staying with this monster than to run away and get a message to my father to rescue me? What is wrong with me?_

They passed a matched pair of gargoyles mounted on intricately carved plinths. Torches burned in their hands, and the princess forgot her sorrow momentarily as she gazed at them. "We are now officially on my lands," Rikter told her. "All these woods and surrounding farms belong to me. There is a port town on the far side of my manse, down another hill. There are several large farms nearby, spreading for miles to the east. Traders pass through the town by the highway that follows the coastline. As time passes, I slowly gain more lands around, extending my holdings. So long as I pay my taxes to the throne, he ignores my holdings. Sometimes it's good to be so far out of the way, yet still have so much."

"Are we so very far from Lerne? A week doesn't seem like much, my lord."

Rikter stiffened. "Still expecting to be rescued, little rose?"

Tayla ducked her head. "More curious, my lord. I was never very good with maps." _Are all my shortcomings going to come to haunt me?_

The vampire laughed coldly. "All the less likely you would be to find your way home then. Yes, we are a fair distance from Lerne. As you slept, we crossed another river into another king's holdings. It's less of a kingdom, and more of a group of freeholdings with one leader. Each of us barons and other nobles pay a tax to the king, and he keeps outsiders from abusing us. It works out quite well, as it means no foreign soldiers can cross the borders." Tayla nodded her understanding, mute as she bit back sobs. _As if being far from home were not bad enough, I am in hostile territory. I will not find help here._

The buggy rounded a corner, and Anye whickered from behind them. The princess saw lights dancing through the boughs of the trees, and realized they were climbing a gentle hill. Rikter took a deep breath, squeezing the girl once more, and flicked the reins. Cehs broke into a canter, lunging in the traces, nodding her head cheerfully. "We're almost home," Rikter whispered, his joy radiating warmly from his body. Tayla felt the pit of her stomach fall.

They rode quietly the remaining distance to the manor. The house was surrounded by a stone wall, gargoyles guarding the gate with torches. Anye trumpeted again, and she felt the jolt as he tugged at the lead in his eagerness to be home. Rikter was grinning broadly as the horses' hooves clattered across the flagstones. He pulled them to a halt, jumping from the buggy as soon as it stopped, holding his arms wide as he took in his home.

Tayla moved shyly from the buggy, looking at the servants already gathered in the courtyard. Two young boys came for the horses, straw caught in the hair of one. She stood close to the vampire as the boys bowed, then lead the beasts and buggy away. Anye trotted spiritedly off, led towards the looming stables in the southeast corner.

Someone who must have been the butler stood tall at the top of the gray stone steps, his livery dark and edged with silver. He bowed to the baron, moving down the steps before he spoke. Rikter took Tayla's hands, pulling her with him as he approached.

"We were not expecting you back so soon, Master," the butler intoned, bowing again. "I'm afraid your lordship's rooms are not readied for company."

Rikter shook his head. "Just so long as they're not covered in dust, I'll be fine." He pulled Tayla closer, squeezing her hand. "Have someone ready a fire, and get the valet's apartments ready for use."

"Then she shall be staying in your suites, Master?"

"Yes, she shall. And we'll need the tailor to come up so we can get her some proper attire. I don't want her dressed like any of the maids."

The butler's response was drowned out by a clatter of heels, and the princess was grateful she would not be dressed like a maid. The dark skinned woman who raced to kneel before the baron blushed as she approached, her breasts heaving against the restraining corset she wore. Her skirts were full, rustling as she knelt on the marble floor of the foyer, hands at her side, her head bowed. Her curled hair piled atop her head, bound with an affair of ribbon and lace.

Rikter's response was immediate and sharply painful to the princess. She wanted to pull away, flee his presence, but his hand kept her close, forced her to endure the strength of his hunger. Her stomach roiled, and she struggled to breathe past the sudden ache in her jaws. Rikter strode to the kneeling maid, looming over her, and she kept her head bowed. He reached down to touch her hair, inhaling her perfume, and he sighed. "It's wonderful to be home."

Pulling the maid to her feet, Rikter glanced once more at the butler. "Have a meal brought to my rooms."

"I'm afraid nothing is ready, Master."

"Whatever is left over," he said, already striding away. Tayla trailed a step behind him, still holding his hand, still trembling at his desires, trying to ignore the response of the maid, who had wrapped herself around his arm and against his side. The princess barely saw the few other servants as they bowed to their lord, and her lip stung where she bit it to keep from crying out with the pain searing her nerves.

Rikter's rooms seemed impossibly far; down a hall, past a garden, and up several flights of stairs. The maid murmured to Rikter in a foreign language, nuzzling his neck, her painted nails trailing through his hair. Tayla stumbled along blindly, rocking with the woman's need and joy, aching with Rikter's frustrated hunger. She tripped on the stairs, and the vampire gave no pause, just tugged her along after him.

Another maid was already in Rikter's room when the trio arrived. She curtsied, hurriedly finishing the task of turning down the bed. A fire crackled in the fireplace, still licking at the logs as it grew, and a bottle of wine was set upon a side table. Rikter released the princess, and she stumbled towards the wine. Ignoring the sharp gasp of the swarthy maid, Tayla opened the bottle and poured herself a glass. Keeping her back to the vampire, she downed it swiftly, the bitter vintage burning her tongue.

The wine soothed her stomach, stopped the roiling, but did nothing for the heat building in her. She closed her eyes, skin crawling with the touch of a phantom mouth. Her knees quavered, and she sought a high-backed chair before she fell.

Sitting gave the girl little chance of avoiding the couple. The maid was helping Rikter out of his clothes, murmuring to him the whole time, rubbing her body against him at any chance. The vampire watched her with glittering eyes, his face set with a predatory smile. He stole kisses from the maid, fondling her lush body as she moved, whispering back to her in her language. He glanced up at Tayla once, and she gasped with the shock of his hunger. It lashed through her, and her entire body reacted. Every nerve was alight, and she could feel the maid moving against her, could feel the warm trails it left against her skin.

She panted, staring at Rikter, wanting him to drop his gaze, unable to cast her green eyes elsewhere. Her heart raced, beating against her ribs, begging to escape. She dug her nails into the upholstery, muscles tense as she clenched her fingers, a low whine escaping from her mouth.

The baron's gaze became more intense, and he frowned at her. He paused in his touches of the maid, although she didn't seem to notice, her mouth sliding across his shoulder as she pulled his shirt from him. Tayla trembled, knowing Rikter was studying her, trying to figure her out, and tears of frustration slipped from her eyes.

A knock came at the door, the other maid returning with a tray of food. Rikter glanced away from the princess, and the moment changed. She sighed in relief as even the baron's hunger left her. The maid, a blond girl with slender hips, brought the food to the girl, and she gratefully took it. Keeping her eyes from the baron, Tayla devoured the meal, pausing long enough to claim the wine bottle.

While Tayla ate her meal, the buxom maid had finished undressing Rikter, and proceeded to give him a sponge bath near the fire. Tayla blushed as she drained another glass of wine, her eyes following the long line of Rikter's naked body. She felt his eyes on her, but managed to avoid his gaze, though his hunger called to her. The wine went straight to her head, and as the sensations of the maid returned, the girl regretted drinking so much of it.

Setting aside the tray, Tayla finally braved a glance at her captor. Rikter was draped in a black silk robe, loosely belted around his hips, his hair damp from his quick bath, the maid kneeling by his side, waiting patiently. The princess rose and approached when he beckoned to her. The wine gave her a soft feeling, like woolen padding around her, and her nerves did not burn as fiercely as Rikter's hunger reached to her.

When she took his hand, she distantly felt the touch of the maid against her own leg, and smiled. She met the vampire's gaze, and though she was completely consumed by his onyx eyes, it was not as painful as before. Tayla regained some control of herself, and managed to bob her head in courtesy as she waited Rikter to speak.

"My lovely Mardain cannot get out of her dress on her own," he purred at her, his lips flushed with desire. "Help her out of it so she can continue her duties."

Mardain rose at the sound of her name, turning her back toward the princess. Rikter released her hand, and paced slowly to his canopied bed. His eyes burned on the women, and Tayla felt his desire stirring her loins. She focused on the lacings before her, using all her willpower to deny the need to feel warm flesh, and swiftly helped the maid undress.

Stepping out of her dress, and practically ripping her underclothes off, Mardain brushed Tayla aside. The girl moaned, the maid's lust overwhelming her defenses, and she fell to her knees. The dark skinned Mardain joined Rikter on his bed, her desire filling the air, and trembled as the baron touched her.

Tayla lay on the floor, shaking uncontrollably as she felt Rikter wrap himself around the maid. She prayed for mercy, tried to pull herself free, but she was lost. Time blurred to her, her surroundings faded away, and all Tayla felt was the couple as they writhed on the bed. Her body ached as the two sensations warred within her; Rikter's pleasure and need burned cold, while Mardain's ache and pain seared everything inside the princess. Her voice joined the maid's, and she scratched her own skin in her writhings.

Conscious thought fled Tayla as she endured the ravaging taking place so near to her. As Mardain screamed and arched with climax, so she too felt the trembling release tear through her body. Tayla sobbed when she wasn't moaning, the last vestige of her awareness still fighting to free herself.

Her breath caught in her throat as ice seared through her, sinking deep into her. Pain flooded her nerves, even as satiation built inside. She could feel hot blood dancing over her tongue, hear a heartbeat pounding in a frantic desire to fill her with the life. She growled under her breath, nails gouging her hands, every nerve tuned to the feed. Heat filled her, clouded her senses, and all she could smell was the heady fragrance of an expiring life. Her heart thumped in joy as it filled with another's heat, and she knew she needed this.

Blackness swallowed her quickly, cutting off all sensation, and the girl relaxed gratefully.

Chapter 16

It did not last long enough, for barely had the throbs of lust ended then she was been carried through the air. Her head spun, and the girl cried out, trying to open her eyes. She was cradled against a warm chest, something hot and sticky soaking through her shirt.

It was dark when she opened her eyes, and she closed them quickly, disoriented and fighting a wave of dizziness. She could taste blood in her mouth, and frowned, wiping at her face. Whomever carried her set her down in some cold depression, and she gasped, clinging to strong shoulders. Words invaded her darkness, telling her to relax.

The girl attempted to obey, but her limbs would not respond. She felt wobbly, like cooked pasta, and yet filled with a nervous energy. She managed to open her eyes, forcing herself to comprehend her situation, and she caught the glow of pale skin. She took a deep breath, and heard the sudden splash of water, and focused on that.

Arms remained around her, holding her upright, and her head bobbed slightly as she continued to look around. She drew a deep breath, and smelled musk and sweat, and something metallic. She took another breath, her head spinning, and collapsed back against the slick chest so close to her.

Warmth spread along her legs and bottom, and part of her knew she was in a tub. She groaned, arching at the touch of the hot water, and the person holding her shifted her. She lay back in the cold tub, shivering where the stone touched her, tingling where the hot water spread. Fingers pulled insistently at her clothes, undressing her, and she could not help them. She felt no shame when her breasts were exposed to the cold air. Hot water was creeping up her back at that point, and she felt it sogging between her toes. Hands grasped her ankle, unlacing her boots, and the leather made a slurping noise as it was pulled from her feet.

Tayla was shaking from the warmth as she regained some semblance of consciousness, and she helped the hands at removing her pants and underwear. She hissed at the touch of the hot water all over her skin, but lay back in the tub, her trembling ending. The princess took a deep breath, inhaled the steam, and opened her eyes again, relaxed and tingling.

She saw pale skin close to her, felt arms envelop her, and she shivered. Her head moved forward, and her mouth found bloody lips. She moaned, remembering a pounding pulse against her teeth and lips, and she wanted more. The arms around her tensed, frozen, and she kissed harder, her tongue pressing past unyielding lips.

A hand clenched in her hair, breaking the kiss, pulling her back. She cried out, but could not fight the hold. Splashing water all around, the other rose from the bath, stalking towards the light. She ached inside as she watched her companion flee. She rose in the tub, wavering with the motion of the water, too unbalanced to move forward.

Light flared in the room, and she hissed, turning her head from it. Footsteps approached, and she sank back into the warmth of the water. A soft hand stroked her hair, and she heard someone call her name. "Tayla, look at me." Someone familiar. Someone who protected her. Someone who was waiting for her.

"Little rose, please look at me."

Blinking water from her eyes, Tayla turned slowly, her body quivering with weakness. She saw Rikter crouched on the floor near her, a candle in his hand, water pooling away from the sunken tub. The princess hugged herself tight, meeting his eyes, feeling vulnerable and exhausted. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she whimpered, unable to speak.

Rikter slid back into the tub with her, and gathered her into his arms. The princess resisted for just a moment, a part of her mind screaming that he was the source of her terror, and then she relented. It was safe in his arms; he would protect her from anything, and the girl desperately needed to feel safe right now.

"You scared me so much," he whispered to her hair, stroking her arm, kissing her forehead. "I didn't even notice what was happening at first, and I don't think I cared. But then I heard you moaning, and I saw you on the floor..." His voice trailed off, and he kissed her forehead again. "My rose, what _was_ happening to you?"

"I do not know," she whispered hoarsely, finally feeling the sting of scratches across her neck and forearms. Her throat hurt, and she vaguely remembered screaming with pleasure. Her head throbbed, and the light stung her eyes, so she closed them and relaxed on the vampire's shoulder. "I know that I could feel your hunger, and could feel Mardain's lust, and I could not escape either."

Rikter stroked her arm, sighing softly. "I knew someone once with this ability," he whispered. His voice was soothing to her, heard through his chest, and the girl relaxed further. "She could share someone's emotions and their sensations. But by the time I met her, she was an expert at it." He nestled her head against his cheek, mouth brushing her hairline as he continued speaking. "She was scary to see in action, watching her decimate people because she knew what they were feeling, knew when they were lying, knew exactly what they desired."

Tayla shivered, and wrapped an arm around the vampire's chest. "Did she ever lose control?"

"Not that I saw. But between this just now, that afternoon on the hill, all of it...I think you have that same ability. It's something very powerful."

Tayla felt the exhaustion working its way through her limbs. The warm water and comforting presence kept the fear at bay, gave her a sense of belonging, and she began to fall asleep. "I am scared of it. I am scared of what it does to me."

As she fell completely to darkness, she heard Rikter mutter, "It scares me too."

The girl watches silently. It seems the girl hovers above them, distantly, and the couple do not to notice her. The girl is intrigued by this scene, and her brows narrow with concentration.

He is angry, his face flushed, and he is snarling silently, lips drawn back from his teeth. The source of his anger sits patiently on a divan, her long blond hair draped around her petite body. She is dressed in nothing more than a sheet, her nipples hard in the chilled air.

He takes a step forward, his fists clenched, his entire body shaking with restrained violence. He wears the tattered remains of a silk robe and nothing more. Blood stains his robe and strong chest, scars dotting his neck and shoulders. His hair is a tangled mess, adding a wildness to his features. His throat strains as he shouts at the woman, a leather collar digging into his flesh.

She finally moves, a blur of golden light, and he flies across the room. He hits the wall hard, crumpling to the ground, and his anger drains. She looms over him, hands on her hips, and he glances up, eyes dim. She grabs his wrist, lifting his arm, and he can only watch. With a twitch of her arm, she twists his wrist, and he screams loudly.

She kneels beside him, grinding the break in his arm, grinning like a fiend. Tears fall from his eyes, and he whimpers as her nails graze his chest. He blanches in pain as she twists the wound the other direction, cracking the bones again.

Then she touches his forehead, her smile dimming only slightly as she stares at him, and she moans softly. He sobs, biting his lip as his spine arches, eyes fluttering closed. He begins shaking as her hands stroke down his chest to his manhood, fingernails grazing fresh bite marks on his stomach and hips. She lies beside him, cradling him against her breast, and she coos at him, her manicured nails wrapping around his arousal.

He continues to cry, his arm limp where she has broken it, his face still pale. They breathe as one, though, and every moan she gives is echoed from his lips. His body twitches as her lips nuzzle a nearly closed wound, and he begs for her touch. He begs for her teeth, begs for her to hurt him again, begs her to never leave him.

The girl trembles, wanting to see no more, and pulls away.

The woods loom behind her, overgrown and wild. Brambles and vines and branches have torn her skin, and she bleeds softly from a dozen tiny scratches. She whimpers, cold and afraid, staring into the clearing. Her heart clogs her throat, and she clutches at a worn out toy as if it can protect her from this darkness.

The moon gilds a beautiful figure before her, his eyes gleaming in the dark, crimson staining his lips. Someone lies in a heap behind him, her gown rumpled and stained, the smell of their meeting hanging in the flowery air. His smile is warm and welcoming, and the girl wants to run to him.

Yet she can feel someone else between them, a ghost of perfume hanging in the air. She's too scared to move forward, knowing that this other person is waiting for her. She cries to him, asking him to come get her.

He frowns, stepping closer, and then he smells it to. Only it seems he smells her, and he snarls in fear. She stumbles towards him, willing to brave the ghost if it means he will pull her into his strong arms. As she moves forward, he stumbles back, his fear a palpable reaction, and she sobs. He raises one arm as if to ward her off, tears falling dark and bloody from his own eyes.

She reaches for him, desperate for him, and he turns, fleeing into the dark.

She stirred, her eyes aching like she'd been crying for some time. She drew a deep breath, then stilled suddenly. Tayla shivered, realizing she lay with her back against someone. The strong arm around her waist tightened briefly, lips moving in her hair, and she recognized Rikter's presence.

"You've been crying for almost half an hour. I tried to wake you, but you just pulled away from me." He kissed the back of her head, pulling her closer to him. She didn't resist, his touch feeling strange through the silk robe she wore. His entire presence this close to her seemed odd, then she bit her lip as she realized she felt content. "Do you always refuse to leave your dreams, little rose?"

She shook her head slightly, pillowed on his bicep. Even though there was only a slight difference in their sizes, she felt completely enveloped by him. Nestled amongst soft pillows, the feather mattress cushioning the two of them, sheets pulled almost to her neck, the curtains of the bed drawn tight, the girl felt separate from the rest of the world. This little pocket of space was theirs alone for this time.

Drawing a shuddering breath, wiping the tears from her eyes, she spoke softly. "Only nightmares keep me from waking,"

He held her tighter, and his concern danced along her awareness. "What would cause my little rose to have nightmares? Is it some kind of reaction to this morning?"

She shook her head slightly, thinking. She remembered the overwhelming sensations while Rikter had his way with the maid, she remembered him cuddling her in the bath. She remembered how the wine had given her some protection from this strange talent she had. "I do not think it is that, my lord. I cannot think of anything else to cause it, though." The girl ducked her head, burying her face. She ached just thinking about what she had been through recently, and she wanted to ignore it.

The vampire snuzzled his face against the back of her head, every possible inch of him conforming to her body. "Is there some other trauma in your life then? Something from your childhood?" His voice hinted at dark secrets, as if he understood the things that would scar a young mind.

The princess shook her head, allowing herself to relax in his embrace, snuggling against him as much as she could. "My life has been normal until this point, my lord." She paused, drawing a shuddering breath. "You have been the only trauma in my life," she added in a whisper.

He stiffened momentarily, then lifted himself up on one elbow. Tayla was forced to adjust as her living pillow moved, and she turned onto her back. Her pulse quickened as she lay half beneath the baron, his hair curtaining his face, his forearm resting across her stomach. "Have I truly been so traumatizing?" His voice was low, and it curled around her mind.

She nodded her head. "You made me watch my best friend be raped. You have killed people right before my eyes. You have beaten me-" Her voice cut off as she recognized a building danged in him. She swallowed, licking her lips, and turned her head to the side. "My apologies, my lord."

He bent towards her, his voice husky, and spoke a low warning. "Those soft apologies will not always save you, my rose. One day, you may push the envelope too far." His lips grazed her ear, and she suppressed the shiver it brought. "I may have to truly punish you."

His lips moved towards her neck, and the girl bit her lip, a moan building in her chest. Her pulse raced, and she found herself wanting to expose more of her neck to him. She wrapped her hands in the sheet instead, and fought to remain still. He kissed her soft flesh briefly, then rolled onto his back. His voice was tortured when he spoke. "Go draw me a bath, girl. Hot and oiled." She sighed in relief, and rose from the bed.

The air inside the bed had been warm and comforting, and the princess shivered as she stepped beyond the curtains. Just outside the windows, the sun had finished setting, the sky a deep shade of blue above the trees. A chill hung in the air, just enough to make the walk to the bathroom brisk, and the girl wished she had more than just a silk robe to wear.

Her thoughts burned in her mind as she scurried about the room. _What was that just now?_ She found a lamp still burning, and kindled a candle to take with her into the bathroom. _What was that feeling? Why would I feel such warmth from his touch?_

She moved through the bathing room uneasily, vague memories guiding her. She lit several more candles, and worked at her task of readying the baron's bath. _There_ was _an attraction to him when we first met, behind all that fear. There is no denying that he is a good looking man. Any woman would find herself falling for him._

The air grew steamy as hot water splashed into the black marble tub. Tayla was impressed by this indoor plumbing, by the hot water at immediate call, and she smiled a little. Oils awaited use in a cabinet at the foot of the tub, and soon the steam smelled of roses and rain. _But could someone stay attracted to him after having seen all the terrors he wraps himself in? If they watched him ruthlessly toss their best friend aside, could they still relent to his touch?_

The princess sat on a stool before a large vanity mirror, and noticed the haunted look behind her green eyes. Dark shadows lined her eyes, adding age to her face, though not detracting from her looks. She sighed and lifted a brush, working the tangles from the mass of curls down her back.

Am I trying to justify an attraction to him? Or am I reminding myself why I should not be? Is it acceptable to have desire for him, so long as I do not succumb? Why does he insist upon taunting me with his touch and his kisses?

Yet he shows so much concern for me. I can feel it through this talent, whatever it is. I must learn to control it. If I am to dwell here with this man, I must not get trapped in his lusts every time he feeds. There is no surer way to ensure that I will fall helplessly to him.

Tayla jumped, giving a startled cry as Rikter's hands brushed her shoulders. "The bath is ready, I think." He chuckled at her as she turned, blushing, and took a step towards the tub. The princess's blush deepened as she saw the vampire naked, watched the strong line of his body flex as he stepped into the water.

She hurried to his side, turning the spout off, kneeling beside her captor. His eyes glittered softly as he smiled at her, reaching a wet hand to her hair. Tayla closed her eyes, smelling the oil on his skin, and felt him run his fingers across a tendril of her hair. "You look quite lovely tonight," he whispered.

"Begging my lord's pardon, but I look tired." She ducked her head, turning from him.

Rikter sighed. "As you say." She opened her eyes as the water splashed quietly, and saw the baron sinking beneath the surface. When he surfaced again, he wiped the water back from his eyes. "There is soap in the same box as the oils. Get it out and wash my hair."

Tayla kept her eyes downcast as she moved, padding around the tub. She could feel the vampire's eyes on her, his hunger a faint ache brushing across her perceptions. It became easier when she knelt behind him, when she didn't have to face the black beads of his eyes. She pushed pride away as she took soap to his hair, washing him as she'd been washed all her life. The princess bit her lip, tears welling, but continued to wash.

Rikter slid under the water, lying on his back, and the girl gasped as hot water sloshed onto her hands. It stung, and she had not realized it could get so hot. She cradled her hands, watching the baron lounge in the searing water like it was nothing.

He reached for her, grabbing her wrist, and pulled her hands to him. "You drew it this hot, so you must be able to stand it." She hissed as her fingers slid beneath the water, and tried to pull away again. He snarled, yanking hard on her wrist. "Rinse out my hair, finish it."

Trembling, the girl bit her lip, working to ignore the pain. Tears welled in her eyes as her fingers worked the length of the baron's hair. He watched her, his eyes narrowed, face unreadable. As her hands began to ache, she watched his mouth twitch, closing his eyes.

The vampire sat up suddenly, standing out of the water in a splash. Tayla cried out faintly as the water landed on her thighs, stinging her. "Go get yourself something to eat," he said in a trembling voice. "When you are done, we shall get you outfitted to begin your duties."

Cradling her hands against her stomach, the princess fled the bathing room.

Chapter 17

Tayla shivered as she stood naked, servants moving around her, Rikter lounging in a wing-backed chair, his dark eyes taking her in. A fire roared at the hearth, warming the air, but doing nothing for the cold in her heart. After she'd finished her meal, Rikter had summoned her to what were to be her rooms. The other servants had spent the day preparing it; the curtains and rugs were freshly cleaned, the walls hung with tapestries against the chill. Someone had placed an arrangement of flowers on a side table, and the girl had been unable to resist a blush.

Rikter had been waiting for her in her rooms, dressed in dark blue silks, barefoot, his hair tangled around his shoulders. He'd asked if she liked the colors picked for her furnishings, and she said something noncommittal. Then the vampire had ordered the maids to take her measure for her new livery.

She'd been standing naked for near an hour, and it seemed like the measuring and fitting would never end. The butler, a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair, had done the work with a detached air, not seeming to notice the young naked girl standing on the stool before him. Every possible distance had been checked on her, and as she stood mutely through the process, Rikter had watched her closely.

Finally, she could take the stares no longer. She cast her eyes towards the baron, and spoke in a low voice. "How many outfits does my lord plan to give me?"

He smiled, shifting in the chair, brushing his hand across his mouth. "A fair amount, I suppose. I like for my servants to look their best. This would be especially true for my personal handmaid." His eyes twinkled as his smile deepened. "Are you complaining about my generosity?"

Tayla shook her head, finally drawing on the underwear the butler handed her. Having maids who were also seamstresses made it much easier for the girl to have fresh clothes to put on. As she settled the soft linen about her hips, she was relieved to have clothes of her own again. "I was not complaining my lord, merely noticing the extravagance. I have never been doted upon like this." _My parents gave me everything, yet it never seemed that they did so from their hearts. He stares at me, and I feel something from him. Something I cannot understand._

The maids helped her into her breeches, and the princess blushed. It felt strange to slip into pants made precisely for her legs. She'd worn Rikter's clothes on their journey, and had been too busy dealing with those stresses to care about her attire. Now that they were off the road, she felt uncomfortable in these clothes. Noble women wore dresses; pants were for the working class.

The vampire rose from his chair as Tayla buttoned her top. Her outfit this night was entirely of fine linen, soft to the touch, quickly fitted to her particular shape by the nimble fingers of the maids. The top was cut with a deep vee at the neckline, revealing the tops of her breasts. The flared cuffs touched her fingertips, adding an elegance to her gestures. The princess looked into Rikter's eyes as a maid tied her hair back with a velvet ribbon. Her breath caught in her throat, and she wrung her hands together, unsure what to say.

The vampire lifted a hand to her face, his fingertips tracing her jawline. "Now you look very lovely. These clothes do you justice."

The girl blushed, glancing down, studying the embroidery of her shirt. "Where did you find such fine clothes on short notice, my lord?"

He chuckled, taking her hand, and guiding her from the stool. "A trader finds clothes here and there. I've collected many beautiful objects, just in the hope of having someone to give them to." He looked at her, and she blushed in response. She could feel joy from him, as though he were taking pride in her. "And now I have you," he said lowly.

Her heart leapt to her throat, her face flushing. She tried to look away, but Rikter's gaze held her in place. His smiled deeply, and the girl's blush increased. "Thank you," she finally whispered, forcing the words from her lips.

He kept her hand in his, but he stiffened as another servant approached. Tayla caught a whiff of something warm and metallic, and glanced towards the approaching man. The servant looked flushed, and she saw the bandage peeking from beneath his shirt sleeve. As Rikter turned, the girl finally noticed the goblet of blood.

Rikter squeezed her hand, still turned towards the blood. The servant ducked his head, handing the goblet over, then turned away. Tayla watched as the vampire lifted the goblet to his fine lips, inhaling its aroma. Her stomach tossed, and she tried to pull away, but he kept her hand trapped. Rikter met her gaze, eyes dancing with anger, and took his first sip of the sanguine fluid. The princess shivered, the flavor dancing across her tongue, and she tried to pull away again.

He stepped closer, blood on his breath, and smiled at her, fangs pressing against his lower lip. "You don't have to worry about this," he said lowly, tipping the glass toward her. "This is one duty you shall not have to do for me."

A shiver traveled her spine as she recalled his fangs plunging into Mardain's neck. Her heart raced, and she could not control her reaction. Rikter lifted the goblet to his mouth again, and she closed her eyes to cut the visual out. The sensations lessened as she ignored him drinking, but they still set her nerves afire.

"What are my duties then?" she asked in a strangled voice. She kept her eyes closed and head down, willing her heart to stop racing.

The vampire moved slightly, then his hand was on her cheek. His breath surrounded her again, and she shivered at the scent. As his thumb traced the curve of her cheek, her eyelids fluttered open, and she met his inky gaze. His face was unreadable, something stirring in the depths of his gaze. She stared openly at him, her lips parting, waiting for him to speak.

He smiled suddenly, turning, pulling her along with him. "I have a list of things I could use help with. I need someone reliable, someone I can trust with information about my holdings. I need someone who is good with numbers, and who can act as a liaison during the day, someone who understands the ins and outs of a trade business.

"I also need someone who can work with me, make sure my wardrobe is kept in good condition, someone who can attend my bathing needs, and will pass my commands onto the other servants when I am indisposed."

Tayla blinked slowly, following the vampire from her room to the hall, and down the stairs to the second floor. The stairs opened to a wood paneled training room, small windows high on the walls, swords and armor lined along the walls. The vampire paused in the middle of the floor, looking back at the princess.

"You can handle all this, yes?"

Tayla ducked her head. "I am not entirely certain, my lord. This is a little more than I am used to."

He laughed, leading her across the wood floor. They entered his office, and she looked around. It was large, yet intimate, lined with books, tall windows with a view of the distant sea, and candelabras mounted on every wall. The vampire released her hand, moving to his large desk, and settled in the leather chair. She followed, standing to his side, wringing her hands gently.

He leaned back in the chair, drawing in a deep breath. "It is good to be home," he muttered, closing his eyes for a moment. The princess waited patiently, then smiled at him as he opened his eyes once more, staring intently at her. "So what about your duties didn't you understand?"

She lowered her eyes, felt the blush spreading across her cheeks. "Most of them, my lord."

He laughed loudly, his eyes wrinkling close, and then smiled at her. "I love your honesty, little rose. It's rather refreshing." He leaned forward over the desk, sobering suddenly, glancing through the papers neatly stacked upon the glossy surface. "Do you know most of my other servants are scared of me? Even those lovely girls who throw themselves at me are scared. But they won't say it." He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. "And yet you have been quite honest about your fear."

She drew a deep breath, letting her gaze move across his desk, taking in the quills and ink pot, the papers and ledgers. Everything had its place, and it showed an organized mind. Licking her lips, she finally spoke. "Was there any point in hiding it from you, my lord? You could taste it, could you not?" His eyes were still and deep when she met his gaze.

The moment built, silence heavy in the still air. Rikter held perfectly still, his pale hands resting on a stack of paper, his eyes sparkling in the oil lamp light as he studied the princess. She attempted to still her hands, but they continued their wringing movement. Tayla swallowed loudly, unable to take her eyes from the baron.

"I could smell your fear. From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I could smell it. It is..." He cast his eyes aside, licking his lips. Her heart stumbled as she felt a passing wave of hunger from the vampire. "It has always been intoxicating to me."

She whispered, "You like my fear?"

He leaned back in his chair, keeping his eyes closed. "It is like a delicacy. There is something just divine about the way your pulse races when you fear me. I can taste how your body vibrates, and the way your veins pulse with that iciness." He shivered, and her body responded, clenching deep inside. The girl bit her lip, digging nails into her soft hands. Her mouth went dry as Rikter continued speaking, heat tingling through her nerves.

"There is something compelling about a fearful woman. It adds so much flavor to the blood, adds an intimacy to the hunt. A completely willing victim has its own appeal, but I have always valued the fight." He lifted his eyes to the princess. "It's what made you so much more desirable over your princess. She was simply too easy. But you were going to be a challenge."

The intensity of his gaze drove the girl back a step, gasping. She cast her eyes away, but could still feel the heat of his stare. Her lips trembled as she remembered his seductions, as she remembered how easy it would have been to give herself to him. _It would still be easy to give myself to him. I could just confess to him, could just throw myself at his mercy. It would be easier than having to fight the urges his stare brings out in me._

The vampire cleared his throat, and she heard the chair creak as he changed position. She opened her eyes, and saw him leaning over the desk again. His hair hung over his shoulder, blocking sight of his face, and she relaxed slightly. His presence had drawn back to just himself, and Tayla sighed with relief. _I cannot survive this for long. I must learn to control this rogue talent._

She waited for him to speak, watching the moonlight dance on the sea far beyond the windows. A ribbon of road ran down to the shore, a swath of empty land to either side. The forest loomed above the clearing, large and dark. The moon was round and large, just now appearing at the upper edge of the windows. It seemed a clear and lovely night, and the lamps kept the chill at bay.

He shifted the papers, speaking finally. "Most of what you shall do shall be secretarial. When you're not attending to my personal needs, you shall help me here in the office. You will respond to letters as I tell you, you shall help tally my ledgers. From time to time, I may send you to the town with missives to my subjects." He looked at her finally, his face an unreadable mask. _There is no middle ground. I can either sense everything about him, or absolutely nothing._ "Do you think you can handle this?"

She nodded her head, keeping her hands clasped before her. "I believe I can learn to do this. Although I know nothing of your town, my lord."

He smirked, and nodded. "I know this, little rose. After I introduce you to some of this paperwork here in my office, we shall take a tour of the town. Now, bring that chair over here, and we shall get started."

Tayla spent many hours bent over the table beside the baron as he showed her various accounting books, letters that had arrived while he was away from his manor, letters of acquisition and titles, deeds to markets, trade agreements, and other various aspects of his business holdings. The girl found herself confused, sometimes completely forgetting what something was the moment he set it aside. She tried to learn what he taught her, tried not to disappoint him It was difficult, and she knew she'd have to learn it all again come the next night.

Her stomach rumbled loudly, and she blushed as the baron turned towards her. She'd hungered for nearly an hour, but had kept it to herself, not wanting to distract Rikter as he went over his holdings along the southern coasts. Tayla felt his eyes heavily as he glanced her way.

"You should tell me you needs, little rose. I forget about how often you mortals need to eat." He rose from the chair, leaving paperwork scattered across the desk, and held out his hand. "Let me show you the rest of my lair, and we shall raid the kitchens for you."

Rising, she took his hand and allowed him to lead them through the mansion. She was already familiar with the third floor; Rikter's rooms, the bathing room, and her own room. He said that the servants lived on the second floor, unconnected to his sword studio. The first floor was the kitchen and dining room, several sitting rooms, and a large gathering hall. The stables included a blacksmith and riding ring, and there were a set of cabins behind those for other servants.

The kitchens were warm, one of the cooks making bread, oven roasting a brace of fowl. "Because of my nocturnal habits, a part of my staff keeps the same hours. You shall always be able to find something to eat." He sat in a careworn chair at a rough-hewn table, and gestured her over. The cook left off working with the bread, and made a quick meal for the princess. Tayla looked around her as she sat, wondering at how similar these kitchens seemed to the castle kitchens, though on a smaller scale. She smiled when the cook brought food, and ate quickly.

The vampire watched her eating, and she soon became self-conscious, taking smaller and smaller bites, being as neat as she possibly could. Finally, she set her fork aside, and laid her hands in her lap. "Does something interest you, my lord?"

He smiled, shifting in the chair. His shirt lacings had become loose, revealing the top of his chest. He seemed very relaxed, his entire posture easy and loose. "I like watching you eat. I confess, I enjoy watching you do a lot of things."

She blushed, turning her head. She heard Rikter move again, and then he was touching her hair. She turned to look at him, frowning faintly. "You seem to enjoy this intimacy," she said softly, eyes rolling towards his thick fingers. His eyes narrowed, and she saw his hand tense. Heart suddenly racing, she turned her face down, and murmured an apology.

"I do like touching your hair," he said. "I like touching all women's hair. It's one of the little luxuries in life. Does it bother you so?"

She shook her head. "Not overly so, my lord."

"That's not what your eyes tell me. Look at me, girl." His voice had grown terse, and she feared his retaliation.

She glanced up, willing her eyes to show nothing, her heart to slow. Tayla managed not to bite her lip as she met his gaze.

His eyes were narrowed, unreadable, his mouth set with a small frown. He rose, and closed the distance between them, running his hands across her bound hair. She kept her eyes on him, her pulse racing at his proximity.

One of his thumbs traced her lower lip, and she could not hold back the gasp. He smiled, and stepped back. She visibly sagged with relief, and turned her head from him. "Come, my rose, let's get ready to go into town."

They went upstairs, Rikter leading the young woman, though not looking at her. He went immediately to his rooms, and settled in a chair near the fire. He crossed his bare feet, pointing them at the girl. She waited before him, hands clasped, her head down. "I will need boots, of course. And I don't know that the maids will have finished with your cloaks, so you will probably need to borrow one of mine. Your own boots were still wearable, yes?"

She nodded her head slightly. "I believe so, my lord."

"And you might want to put your hair up. It's a bit of a ride to the town, and I'd hate to see it get completely tangled."

"Yes, my lord."

He stretched in the chair, and waggled one foot. "My boots first, little rose. And then you may get yourself ready." She looked up, and bit her lip. He was smiling, and pointed towards a dark corner of his room. "Bottom shelf of the oak wardrobe has my boots. I want the lace up ones with the turn down cuff." The princess nodded, and strode to the wardrobe he mentioned. The boots he wanted were easy to find, and she came back quickly.

When the princess came back to his side, she suddenly realized she would have to kneel before him to put his boots on. Swallowing, a blush spreading across her cheeks, she sank to her knees. His gaze was heavy upon her, and her pride stung in her chest. _Every moment brings one more thing I must endure to keep this masquerade going. Everything I do is one more chink in my armor, and it becomes that much easier to simply do what he says. A month ago, I would never be kneeling before a man and helping him into his boots._

His foot was icy as he slid it into her grasp. Biting her lip, the princess guided his foot into the boot, using her thigh as a brace to get everything in place. The toe brushed the underside of her breast, and she blushed deeper, beginning to lace the boot. "Keep it tight," he whispered. The princess glanced up, and his eyes were intense. She could feel him brooding at her, felt it moving like silk across her nerves. She shuddered with the effort to lower her eyes, to go back to lacing his boot. He shifted his foot, the pointed toe of the boot digging into her breast, the heel pressing into her thigh. The longer he stared at her, the more heat moved along her nerves. By the time she reached the top of his knee high boots she felt uncomfortable under his gaze.

The second boot went faster, and yet her pulse began to race as she worked on lacing. He didn't move his foot, and yet it seemed like he was touching her. Shivers ran up her spine, and she bit her lip to resist reacting. The world came down to just her fingers on the laces and his eyes on her. Tayla wanted to be anywhere but there.

She finished with a shiver, her hands brushing his knee, and looked up at the vampire. Rikter sat forward, and he touched her hair, brushing her head, and she continued to stare at him. "Go get your own boots," he whispered. She scurried to her feet, and fled to her room.

_I cannot believe this. I have never felt something so intimate with something so very ordinary. He watched me like I was undressing him._ She shivered. _Will it be like this every night? Will he push me to some new extreme?_

Will I be able to resist him if he presses his point?

The maids were still working on her wardrobe, and none of them glanced up when she entered her room. Her boots were located in her own ornately carved wardrobe. She checked them over swiftly, noting their worn soles and scuffed uppers, yet put them on anyway. She felt almost shabby as she strode into the bathing room. Tayla stood before the vanity, taking the ribbon out of her hair, then began pulling it into a fresh tail.

She was still flustered from her reaction to helping Rikter, and her hair kept slipping from her grip. The girl gave a frustrated cry, dropping her hair and slamming her hands onto the vanity counter. She drew several shuddering breaths, trying to still her heart.

The princess cried out, straightening suddenly as cold hands brushed her back. Rikter's laugh was light, and he stepped back from the girl as she turned, her eyes wide. She tried to catch her breath, but it stilled entirely as Rikter wordlessly closed the gap between them again. He grabbed her shoulders, and turned her back towards the mirror. The princess held still as he reached past her to pick up the brush, shivering as his breath wrapped around her ear and neck. His hand snaked through her hair, brushing the nape of her neck, lifting the mass of her dark hair into a tail. He was gentle with the brush, raising the mass of hair high on her head, his hand holding it in place. He set the brush aside for a clasp, trapping her hair in it. The girl shivered as his hands traced her shoulders, and down her arms.

Their eyes met in the mirror, and the princess felt time still. She felt herself pressing back against the vampire, felt a vision stirring through her mind.

She leans back in his arms as they wrap around her. He holds her close, and she tips her head to the side as he kisses her hair. She moans as his arms tighten, his mouth dancing along the line of her neck. He draws in her essence, breathing out with a delighted moan.

Then he opens his mouth, fangs glittering, and slowly presses them against her neck. She nods her head in response, reaching a hand to the back of his neck, drawing his head against her. His hands shift, digging like claws into her young body.

Then his fangs bury into her neck, and she arches against his grip, groaning with pain. It is a brief pain, but it feels like an eternity as he tears into the vein. The moment the blood spurts into his mouth, ecstasy washes over the girl. She grows limp in his arms, crying out with the overwhelming rapture, and his voice echoes her, muffled by her throat. He collapses to his knees, still holding her close, and she sobs with pleasure, her pulse pounding to feed him more of the blood.

Rikter cried out, and turned away from the girl, hands going to his eyes. Tayla collapsed against the counter, bracing herself, heart racing in her throat. She felt tears staining her cheeks, and licked her lips free of them. A sob choked its way free of her chest, and then several more followed that one.

Rikter groaned behind her, and she could feel him kneeling, could feel him struggling with something inside him. His own pain lashed the girl, and she cried out softly, biting her lip. She turned slowly, saw him hunched on the ground, arms wrapped around his stomach, his back arching as he groaned again.

As if he felt the girl's gaze, the vampire turned his head. His mouth was drawn down in a snarl, his fangs glistening in stark relief against his lips, his eyes dark and narrowed. Tayla gasped, feeling his need as her own.

He reached a hand out to her, his fingers crooked, and she moved towards him, their gazes locked. She swallowed hard, her breath coming quicker, and felt her heart dancing to her throat. He whispered her name, and she called out his.

He writhed again, turning his head, and she gasped, heart stilling. The room fell to eerie silence, and she sat trembling on the floor, wrapping her arms around herself. "Go," the baron groaned. "Leave me."

"My lord," she whispered, starting to unwind, to reach for him.

His voice was agonized, and it chilled her blood. "Just go! I will come for you later." Tayla rose to trembling feet and scurried from the room.

Chapter 18

She stirred slowly, becoming aware of a body beside her. Tayla opened her eyes, blinking rapidly as she looked around. Rikter smiled wearily at her as their eyes met. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly.

Her clothes were tangled around her, and she tugged at them to put them to right. She sat up, her thigh brushing the vampire's leg, and she pulled at her top. Licking her lips, the girl finally spoke. "A little weary, but otherwise I feel fine, my lord." She looked at him, noting the dark shadow beneath his eyes, the way his hair tangled around his shoulders, and spoke again. "How are you feeling?"

He looked towards her window; the curtains were bright with sunshine. The princess stretched, and looked around her room. The maids had left sometime before she fell asleep, and she had been embroidering on her new cloak. The girl had apparently slumped over her pillows, the needle still in her cloak, the fabric pooled to the side, and passed out a few hours ago. As Rikter spoke, she looked back at him.

"I'm better." He looked at her, the onyx pools almost dull. "I'm sorry if I scared you. I didn't mean to do anything but help you with your hair."

She glanced away, uncomfortable with the melancholy he exuded. "I was not scared, my lord."

He sighed, rising from her bed. "I was scared, then. You have no idea what almost happened."

"I am not sure I understand what happened, my lord."

He walked around the room, his fingers trailing along the curtains. He leaned against her mantle, his head on his forearm, and spoke. "I believe you had another one of your visions. Instead of you just catching a glimpse of what I wanted, you...you drew me into it. I was partaking of your vision, and it almost overwhelmed all my defenses."

"Then, when you were on the floor, you..."

He turned to her, his eyes tortured. "Wanted to attack you? Yes."

She swallowed, and wrapped her arms around herself. "I am sorry, my lord. I did not know I was capable of sharing my visions."

He drew a breath, and came back to her. She glanced up as he sat on the bed, reaching his hand toward her. She took it, and smiled at him. He smiled wearily, and drew her fingers to his mouth for a kiss. "I know you didn't know you could do it. I also know you didn't do it on purpose." He blinked, and his concern wafted through the air. "I was just so caught up in it, I could still feel your pulse on my lips. I was about to have you right there when I came to my senses." His eyes bored into her skull. "I just need to be more careful with what I think around you."

She glanced away from him, blushing. "Do you often think...about feeding..."

Tayla felt him nod. "Of course. It's part of my nature. Much the way a normal man will think of bedding a girl, or how wonderful that haunch of venison will be, I think about feeding. I must learn to curb that instinct around you, or we could both be in trouble."

Tayla swallowed hard, drawing her knees up beneath her chin, and buried her face. _This is getting entirely too complicated. Not only must I be on guard for my own emotions, I must fend off_ his _emotions, and now his fantasies. Will it never end?_

Rikter rose from the bad again, and she heard him stretching. "Come, little rose," he said, his voice cheerful once more. "Let us get you something filling to eat, and journey to the town."

She frowned looking up. "It is daylight, my lord. Is it wise?"

He smiled deeply, running a hand through his hair. "I have some immunity to the daylight. Plus, I have my masks. It's all part of how I keep the townspeople from knowing that I'm the same man who's ruled them for the last century and a half."

Tayla moved off the bed, standing unsteadily. She had slept with her boots on, and some of her toes tingled because of it. Rikter reached out to her to keep her steady. The girl smiled only faintly, thoughts churning. _He has ruled here for one hundred and fifty years. How much older than that is he? How many times as he captured some young girl and kept her with him? How does he provide heirs and children and family? Or does he even bother?_

His eyes were guarded as he studied her face, keeping his hand on her elbow. She couldn't look away, nor did she want to. She felt safe at this moment, despite his actions in the bathroom, despite the fact her was far older than she understood. The look in his eyes reassured her that he meant her no real harm, and his touch was like an anchor for her reeling mind.

The vampire blinked slowly, running his other hand over her hair. "Go refresh yourself," he said lowly. "I'll go down to the kitchens and have your breakfast made. Once you've eaten, join me in the stables." With no other word, he turned and left the room.

The princess drew a deep breath, then went about his orders. She took her time redoing her hair, washing herself from a basin, in picking out fresh clothes. The girl grimaced at the selection, just now noticing how all of it was dark, only trim or embroidery adding any relief to the color scheme. Sighing, she drew on a dark red outfit, the fabric nearly the same color as her hair. Glancing in the mirror hung inside her wardrobe, she made a frown at how pale the clothes made her look. She tried tugging the neckline of the shirt up, but there was no hiding the roundness of her breasts. It seemed he wanted her to feel ever so slightly exposed.

The kitchen was bustling when she finally entered it. One of the lesser cooks escorted the girl into the servant's dining room, carrying a tray laden with food. Tayla picked at everything, not overly hungry, but not wanting to insult anyone. The food was delicious, and the princess couldn't help smiling as she finally pushed the tray aside.

The sun was rising above the forest slowly, and the air still held a chill. Tayla donned her cloak as she crossed the courtyard to the stables. She could smell the scent of horse and straw and manure, and she wrinkled her nose. There was a bustle through the stables as boys mucked stalls and carried around fresh bedding. She ignored them, heading through the open doors, looking for the vampire.

It was busy inside the stable, with rows of horses watching her with bright eyes, and stable hands glancing at her in curiosity. She held her head high, glancing around, and saw Cehs saddled and waiting in a large riding ring to the girl's right. She shivered, thinking about mounting the beast again, and strode forward slowly.

A soft moan caught her attention, and Tayla stopped, looking around. The voice came again, and she spotted two figures in the shadows behind a post. The princess frowned, biting her lip as a hint of lust crossed her senses. Shuddering, pulling back, she knew Rikter was feeding upon someone, sating his hunger. She tasted blood, and closed her eyes. She willed the feelings to go away, focused on pulling herself away from Rikter, and the sensations dimmed. Shaking slightly with the effort, the princess moved towards the horses. Cehs whickered at her, and Tayla wrapped her arms around the great horse's head.

_So I can make it go away. I am not completely a slave to this curse. But if the barest touch of it has left me this weak, what would happen if I tried to stop it when I am being overwhelmed? How much will it hurt to stop one of these visions I have suffered?_ She sighed, scratching Cehs beneath her halter, and felt the horse lip her shirt. _It is a start though. Perhaps it will become easier in time._

She felt Rikter approaching, and turned to face the vampire. His face was flushed, particularly his lips, and his eyes glittered like jewels as he bowed to her. His hair was tied back with a leather thong, a few strands escaping to drape around his forehead. Tayla saw that he was ready to go already, dressed in charcoal colored clothes, a vest tracing the line of his torso, and supple leather gloves hiding his pale hands. He had eschewed to wear a coat over his clothes, his shirtsleeves rippling as he moved, hinting at the strong arms beneath. His cloak was thrown back over his shoulders, and the hem danced just above the ground.

"You're staring," he said as he stood beside her. The princess blushed, and lowered her eyes. "Oh, my little rose, you blush so prettily." She could smell the rich scent of leather as he brushed his fingers along her cheek.

"I had not realized I was staring, my lord. I was still a little stricken from..." She couldn't say the words. In her mind, it seemed incredibly rude to bring up his feeding. Her blush deepened, and she turned away from him.

He touched her shoulder, and she shivered, a ghost of the sensations filling her. She could feel a youthful body pressed against her, could feel a pulse dancing just beneath her mouth. Biting her lip hard, she steeled her resolve, and forced the memories away.

"You saw me feeding," he whispered, dropping his hand. She nodded, sweat beading along her forehead, unable to speak. "And did you feel it?"

Finally feeling in control of herself, Tayla turned to face her captor. His brows were knitted in a frown, his mouth turned down at the corners as he stared at her. "I did, my lord. And I was able to push it away, to make it not so powerful."

He smiled suddenly, joy leaping into his onyx eyes. "I'm pleased to hear that. It means you might not be a victim to this forever." He stepped forward, boldly taking her into his arms, kissing her forehead. "I am happy for you," he whispered. The girl hid her frown as she felt his sudden wash of relief, like it wasn't just her he was happy for.

"Let's go into town," he said brightly, pulling away, opening the gate to the riding ring. Anye trumpeted, dancing up to his master, butting his big head into Rikter's chest. Tayla followed him into the ring, and Cehs sauntered over. The princess reached her hand to the mare, and watched as Rikter played with his stallion for a moment.

When he was done, the vampire came to her, pulling his mount by the reins. "I made sure to have the mounting block put out for you," he said, pointing towards the side off the ring. "It should make it considerably easier for you, I think."

She followed Rikter, grabbing Cehs's reins, guiding the horse towards the block. Rikter helped her line the mare up, then the princess climbed the two steps. It was easier for her to climb onto the mare's back, but she was no less nervous when Rikter handed her the reins.

He smiled up at her, and she felt heartened by it. "We'll ride slow. It's an easy enough road down to the town, and it's broad daylight. I don't think you'll have too many problems. Just let Cehs do most of the work." Finished speaking, he hauled himself up into Anye's saddle, and pulled his mask off the saddle horn. He settled it over his features, and Tayla noticed how elaborately carved this one was. It made him seem regal, especially combined with his outfit and the magnificent horse. Tayla swallowed the lump in her throat, and followed him from the stables.

_He was right, this is much easier than I thought it would be._ They headed out of the courtyard, down the road she'd seen from Rikter's office. She could smell the ocean wafting on the breeze, along with all the scents of forest. Sea birds danced in the air overhead, and without a cloud in the sky, she could imagine she was on a regular pleasure ride, not following a captor to his town of unwitting slaves.

They rode in silence for nearly an hour, Tayla letting the mare follow her mate. Rikter kept them at any easy walk, even though the stallion clearly yearned to run. Tayla was grateful, and by the end of the hour, had almost relaxed in the saddle, no longer scared of the great horse.

She heard the town before she saw it. Rikter gestured her forward, and she moved Cehs up alongside him. She looked at him proudly as she rode abreast of him, and felt him smiling at her progress. "I figured I'd give you a little history of the town before we got very much further.

"This town was already a fair size trader market when I first arrived. There is a coast road that travels through, and with my management, has become a fair highway to the other holdings throughout the kingdom. Other than the highway, this port is the only safe place to land for a few hundred miles. I was actually amazed this port didn't do more business before I took over.

"I have my main holdings here, the offices of all three trading companies I run. I brought in a few shipwrights, and now we have a successful shipyard, making trading cogs, war galleys, and even some pleasure yachts. There's an abundance of beautiful trees around here that are quite in demand in the capital.

"Since my trading companies are based here, some competitors have also moved in. There are entire neighborhoods of warehouses, and new workers have moved in. Artisans and craftsmen had thrived as well, and they not only sell their goods to the traders, they've established a bustling market. The farms stretch out to the south and east, through a fertile valley. It's the most perfect place I can think of."

They turned a corner, and Tayla saw the gates of the town. They were topped with similar gargoyles to those Rikter had, and the gates were oak bound in iron. The road was paved once beyond the gates, set with rectangular flagstones, a gutter running through the middle. The streets teemed with life, the buildings older but well cared for. The buildings the princess could see had glass windows, and some ever had planters outside the upper stories.

Tayla was amazed at the bustle of the crowds. She'd never ventured out into her father's capital, and had no idea of the press of life, the scents of everything mingled together, or just the sheer press of human minds against her own. She felt slightly overwhelmed, and began chewing her lip. The crowds parted for the horses, but she was still forced to ride leg to leg with the baron.

He took her hand, his thumb caressing her knuckles, and she felt better for the contact. He guided them through the streets, past the onlookers, past buskers on corners, and teenagers hawking fresh food. Tayla trembled as her senses were assaulted by a cacophony of sights and sounds and smells.

He took them down a side street, and the crush of bodies immediately lessened. Tayla sighed in relief, and he dropped her hand. "I have to drop off some paperwork, and you'll get to meet the manager of my number one company." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "It's important you meet him, since I may have you run some errands down here for me."

Tayla nodded solemnly, not sure she'd want to be in the city by herself. This street only had a few porters, a fraction of the population of the main street, and yet it seemed like too many people around her. _When did I become so afraid of a handful of people? I always hated large gatherings, avoided parties whenever I could...but there are no more than a dozen on this street, and I cannot stop my hands from shaking._

They stopped in front of a brown stone building, a sign hanging beside the door marked "Thatus Merchants and Traders". Rikter dismounted, tying Anye's reins to a hitching post, and she followed suit. Keeping her hands clasped before her, the princess followed Rikter into the building. She stood docilely as he spoke with a secretary, then took her upstairs to an extensive office. Tayla spoke politely to the balding man that Rikter introduced as his manager. She stood behind his chair as the baron spoke with his man. She tried to pay attention to their conversation, but most of it went over her head. Her knees ached by the time Rikter rose and shook the man's hand. They left without speaking to anyone else, and the girl sighed with relief when they got back to the horses.

Tayla leaned her head against Cehs's saddle, trying to regain her equilibrium. Rikter moved up behind her, and she gasped as his hands began massaging her shoulders. "You're not very good with crowds, are you?" he whispered. She shook her head, feeling tears build. His mask was cold as he pressed it to the back of her head. "I apologize for dragging you down here then. We will make one stop, then we shall head back home." His hands shifted down her arms, to her waist, his fingers tender. "Back in the saddle," he declared, lifting her from the ground. She flailed for a moment, then pulled herself over the back of the saddle, settling on Cehs's back. She gripped the reins, waiting for the vampire to join her.

He stayed on the ground, guiding both horses, taking the girl back towards the crowd. They turned just before the main street, and she saw a wall of people and brightly colored cloth down this small street. Her hands twitched, and she wrapped them around the saddle to hold still. Her pulse began to race as they stopped on the edge of the market square.

The sound of voices hit her like a wall. So many people calling out prices, haggling, listing their wares blurred together into one sound, a pulsing hum. She could smell various foodstuffs and spices, as well as animals and people in various stages of unwash. Sitting atop the mare, she could see over most of the people, the bodies moving like a sea.

Rikter turned back to her and the sun glinted off his mask. "Just wait here. Anye will keep everyone away." The stallion tossed his head to confirm the vampire's words. "I'll be back shortly." Tayla watched him leaving, her heart clenched in her throat, and she soon lost sight of him.

She fidgeted in the saddle, the mare waiting patiently. Anye seemed to sense her discomfort, and leaned close, his heat radiating through her leg. The girl shivered, and pulled her cloak closer about her chest. Market goers glanced to her and the horses, their eyes curious, but the wild look Anye gave kept them all at bay.

The noise was beginning to hurt her head, the press of so many emotions making her mind reel, when Rikter emerged from the crowd. The hood of his cloak was back, his mask fairly glowing as he came to her knee. She sighed in relief, tears forming as he touched her leg. "Sorry to make you wait, " he said lowly. "But I just knew there was something out there you had to have." He drew his other hand from his cloak, handing her a silver and obsidian rose. It sparkled brightly in the sun, the edges of the petals thin and sharp looking, the sun lancing light through them.

The princess gaped, speechless, as she took the rose. She brought it to her nose as if it had a scent, and she felt Rikter's joy. She finally looked down at him, catching the glitter of his eyes beyond the mask. "It is lovely, my lord."

He squeezed her knee lovingly. "Not a fraction as lovely as you when you smile." Before she could respond, he left her side, going to his horse. Taking the reins of both horses again, he led them back to the town gates. Tayla smiled and cradled the rose the entire journey back to the house.

Chapter 19

She stands at the top of the stairs, and she can hear people below. Music fills the mansion, a soft strain of stings that tempts her to dance. She bites her lip, wanting to join the party below, but unable to make her feet move. She's dressed as an adult finally, glad her mother saw her as old enough. And yet she clings to a childhood toy, keeping her stuffed rabbit close by her side.

It's dark on this floor, icy moonlight gilding the glass of the window at the end of the hall. It is cold, and her skin shivers as she looks longingly at the warm lights in the ballroom of the floor below. Laughter bursts out, and she smiles as though she can hear the joke from her position on the landing. She takes a step down, biting her lip.

Someone moves to the doorway, dressed all in cobalt and silver. His long hair is pulled into a topknot, the waves of his hair caressing his neck and spine. He wears an elaborate mask of blue feathers and silver ribbon, disguising himself. But she still sees his wonderful lips, and a glitter of eyes. He smiles, bowing to her, then moves back into the crowd. She gasps, dropping her rabbit, and stumbles down the stairs in a rush to get to him.

She feels her heart racing as she stands in the door of the ballroom. Performers stand on podiums, juggling and balancing and contorting, all for the amusement of the decadent guests around them. Musicians are dressed in ludicrous livery, upon a dais at the end of the hall, blithely sawing away at their instruments. Dancers spin and twirl and move, taking up the majority of the floor.

She pouts, unable to see the object of her desire. She edges into the crowd, cringing from their loathsome touch. She shivers and trembles with despair, looking frantically around, but there is no trace of blue to be found.

She hears her name, and her head darts towards the open bay doors. The moonlight jealously touches blue feathers, shining on silver ribbon, and she forces her way through the crowd. People jostle her, and stay in her way, and ignore her, all of them managing to keep her from the lovely man in the door. When she eventually makes her way through the crowd, he is gone again.

She stands on the patio and pouts, looking down the stairs into the rose garden. She can smell the warm comfort of the roses, with just a hint of loam and water. She smiles, happy to be away from the crowd. Moonlight spins silver webs around her, and she can almost feel its gentle touch. Gathering her skirts away from her ankles, she strides down the stairs to the manicured lawn.

She follows a gravel path deep into the rose garden, and finds herself beside the elaborate fountain. The waters splash and dance beneath the moonlight like jewels, and she smiles giddily. She has always loved this fountain, and she prefers its company to the crowd in the house.

Cold fingers brush her bare shoulders, and she smiles as a musky scent envelopes her. She turns her head to meet feather and silver, and her smile deepens. He smiles in kind, moving to take her hand, bending over it for a kiss. She curtsies to him, blushing beneath the weight of his gaze, and her heart stumbles.

They can still hear the music from the house, and he asks her to dance. When she agrees, he sweeps her into his arms, holding her too close for propriety, but she doesn't mind. She is happy in his arms, happier than she's ever been, and she wants to stay here. As they twirl slowly, she lays her head on his shoulder, sighing wistfully.

He asks her what is troubling her, and she tells him how she wants to be somewhere where she's loved, somewhere where she's happy. His arms tighten around her, and he asks her if she wants to come home with him. Smiling, she presses a kiss to his neck and nods.

She stirred slowly in her bed, comfortable beneath the heavy blankets. She felt rested, her emotions set back to rights after the trip to the town. Tayla drew a deep breath, and sat up from her bed. She had no canopy or curtains like the vampire, but her bed was still something of luxury. She could see a sliver of sky through her window, and saw stars twinkling brightly.

Rising, she drew on her silk robe, a gift from Rikter after he liked how she looked in it. It was too long, and trailed along the floor, but there was something comforting about the lingering scent of the vampire in the fabric. Running a hand through her hair, the girl made her way towards the bath.

Stepping into the dark room, Tayla felt every nerve in her body react to a soft moan. She drew a deep breath, fighting the urge to swoon, and laid a hand against the wall. Once more she heard a moan, long and low, and knew it for Rikter's voice. Her body singing with heat, she stumbled towards his bedroom door.

She cracked the door open, trembling as she leaned against the wood. Tayla saw candles burning warmly from several candelabra set near the bed. Clothes were strewn about the floor, and the curtains of the bed were drawn back. The girl bit her lip, sweat slowly forming on her back, as she saw the couple amidst the pillows.

Starbeth sat with her back to the headboard, her legs braced on either side of Rikter. He lay limp against her, blankets tangled around his wrists, keeping him pinned as Starbeth fed from his neck. Her hand was clenched in his hair, tipping his head to the side, her other hand playing with the muscles of his chest. Blood stained his pale skin, several other bites livid against his torso.

Starbeth shifted her grip, and Tayla moaned, fangs suddenly burning in her neck. She collapsed to her knees, feeling her own heart racing with rapture, her own limbs weakened from the feeding. The girl clawed at the wooden floor, feeling the sheets restraining her wrists, feeling the slender body pressed at her back, and she wanted more.

The ecstasy dimmed, and the girl was fully aware of herself again. From the floor, she glanced at her captor, saw his dark eyes half-lidded and staring at her. Starbeth reclined against the headboard, licking blood from her lips, her hands gently stroking Rikter's shoulders. He shivered, and it passed through Tayla. She moaned as he licked his lips, and felt desire aching through both their jaws.

He gestured to her, his wrist still bound in the sheet, and she felt an undeniable pull. Her eyes were locked in his, and their breath came in time. As she crawled across the wooden floor and soft rug, she watched him shudder in reaction, his brows drawing tight with a frown. He sighed in pleasure as she pulled herself onto the bed, continuing to crawl to him.

She could smell the blood now, and she felt as he would; aroused and tantalized by it. She licked her lips, eyes flicking down his chest before coming back to the onyx pools that held her. His lips parted as his breath deepened, and she could see the points of his fangs.

Tayla ran a hand along his shin, her fingers gripping his knee, and then her legs were propelling her between his. Her pulse pounded heavily in her chest, and she could feel a flush crossing her entire body. Rikter's eyes blinked slowly, and she leaned across his stomach, drawing a deep breath of his scent. He moaned, arching towards her, and she shivered. Her nerves sparked with his proximity, and she moved farther up, her arms bearing her weight as she knelt between his thighs. She braced her wrists on either side of his chest, sharing his aching need to be touched. His breath washed across her face, and the princess fell deeply into his eyes.

"Everything I am and have is yours," he whispered, his voice traveling across her skin like velvet. The girl moaned, long and low, leaning towards him.

She trembled, trying to turn her eyes away, trying to stop her motion, but she brought her mouth closer to his. She could almost taste his blood, was burning with desire, and she could not stop moving.

He tilted his head, as if awaiting her kiss, and whispered again. "I have no power over you, little rose. Do as you want with me."

Her lips hovered just above his, and she closed her eyes. Distantly, she felt Starbeth's arousal and need, but the only thing that mattered to her was her captor. He lay helpless before her, bound and exposed, and wanting her. Her teeth ached to rend his flesh, to feel his blood flowing freely into her mouth. He groaned as her lips brushed his neck, his skin trembling at the contact. She flicked her tongue out, and caught a drop of his blood. He stiffened, gasping, and arched beneath her.

Her eyes flew open at the metallic taste invading her mouth, and she pulled back. Starbeth twitched, and Rikter's face looked hurt. He whimpered as she pushed herself back, wiping at her mouth. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and she shuddered as she stared at the baron. His eyes were almost glowing, and she saw pain burning in them. Tayla cried out, and slid off the bed. She thumped hard to the floor, jarring her body, and then she darted to the bathroom.

She slammed the door behind her, hand clutched over her mouth. Her stomach roiled, but not enough to make her sick. Tayla stumbled forward, nearly falling into the tub, and pawed at the spigot. Water splashed across her, plastering the robe to her skin. The princess began sobbing, wrapping her arms around her legs, burying her forehead against her knees. She shook violently, and welcomed the burn of the hot water.

The door opened behind her, closing quickly. The girl felt a heavy chill in the air, and she turned her head, still crying. Rikter leaned against the door, breathing heavily, his hair bedraggled around his bloody shoulders, a sheet wrapped around his tight hips. His eyes seared into the girl's, and he licked his lips slowly. She shuddered, moving away from him, the water sloshing as she started to crawl from the tub.

"Please don't go," he groaned. Tayla felt his ache, and she turned back to him. He strode forward, his body shaking, and fell to his knees beside the tub. His hand shook as he reached for her, and Tayla gasped, her hand reaching for him as well.

The vampire grasped her fingers, pulling her towards him, and she allowed him to wrap his arms around her. His chest shuddered, and she echoed him with a sob of her own. She clung to him, crying openly, and he nestled his face into her hair. They continued to hold onto each other, ignoring the splashing of the water.

The water finally rose to her breasts, and the girl shuddered. Rikter released his grip enough to shut off the water, then looked at her with bloodstained eyes. She cast her gaze away, but did not take her arms back. The vampire drew a deep breath, and slid into the tub. The sheet floated around him as it absorbed water, tangling around the girl as he pulled her into his lap.

"I'm sorry about that, little rose. I didn't know you'd walk in on us at that point."

Tayla whimpered, letting her head rest against his neck. "I could not...I was unable to resist."

Rikter stroked her hair, his lips brushing her cheek. "I saw that. You have no idea how much I wanted you to continue to succumb." His arms stiffened around her, and a fresh wave of blood scent filled her nostrils. She ached with his need again, trembling, and pressed her lips against his neck. The vampire hissed, his hands tangling in her hair.

"My lord," she whispered, trying not to open her mouth and bite down into his neck. Her arms trembled around his shoulder, and she felt her loins clenching. Gasping painfully, she pushed herself away from him, his arms catching at her, then letting her go. His eyes were lined with pain, his fangs clear behind his parted lips, and he clutched at the edges of the tub. Tayla let herself sink to her nose in the water, pressing herself against the far end of the tub.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. She watched his arms shaking, the muscles tensed. His blood was staining the water, the bite marks dark against his alabaster skin. "I am making this so hard on you."

She remained beneath the water, her eyes wide as she stared at him. _He said he could not control me. He said I was free to do as I wanted, that he would give me everything he is. But I could not control myself, could not pull away from him. Was it his need that pulled me on, or my own?_

Tayla let her mouth rise above the water, and spoke lowly. "What did you mean when you said you could not control me, my lord?"

He relaxed noticeably, but kept his hands on the edge of the tub. Tayla could feel a resonance of his frustration, and bit her lip to keep from reacting to it. "I mean exactly that," he said lowly, closing his eyes. "I have several powers that allow me to control and guide my prey, but none of them work on you. They have never worked on you."

"Why not?"

His eyes opened as he shook his head slightly. "I don't know. I'm thinking it has something to do with this empathic ability of yours. But whatever it is..." Rikter's gaze bored into her skull. "It makes you immune to me, and it means I can't control you."

She lowered her eyes. "Is that the only good that comes from this?"

Rikter finally drew his hands into the water. "I wouldn't say that entirely. You do get to feel other's pleasures and joys. It's a very special talent you have. It makes you extremely rare."

"So if it is so special, why am I not your lover?" Her voice was hardly a whisper, but it was obvious he heard her.

His face crumpled as he turned his head away. "The woman I knew before, the woman with the same talent..." His voice trailed off, and the princess leaned forward to catch his next words. "She used her talent to hurt me. She would inflict her joy upon me, no matter how much agony I was in, and she'd make me want her to hurt me more."

Tayla pushed through the water, approaching the vampire. He looked up, his eyes filling with tears, his entire face lined with pain. The princess reached for him, touching his arm, and Rikter drew her into his grasp in a heartbeat. He pressed his head against her chest, and she stroked his hair, willing him to feel her sympathy.

"Tell me about it," she whispered into his hair. "Let me understand you, my lord."

He drew a shuddering breath, his arms tight around her, and began speaking. "I was the third son of a line of barons, far, far to the east of here. We were wealthy, and my father was a great ruler, and our people loved us. I was decadent, and spent all my time wenching and gambling and trying to spend as much of my family money as I could. My mother had died in childbirth with a fourth son, and my father spent all his time teaching his heir about all there was to our holdings. My next older brother tried to watch over me, but I ignored him, headstrong boy that I was."

He shifted his position, rubbing his cheek along her shoulder. "My father and eldest brother died in a storm, their ship torn apart. My brother was suddenly in charge of everything, and he had no spare time to look after me. He tried to get my help, but I was using my grief as an excuse to further sink into a bottle.

"It must have been a year that it went on like that. I went through that year in a haze, trying anything anyone put in front of me, bedding any woman that caught my eye, not caring what happened to me. I would pick fights just to see if anyone would dare to hurt me. The gambling dens and drinking parlors began asking me to stay away, even though my bills were always paid. They were tired of dealing with me.

"Meanwhile, my brother was struggling with our holdings. He would rail at me that he needed another pair of hands to help, that captains were leaving, that entire shipments were going missing, and that I was dragging our reputation through the mud. I didn't care. I didn't want to care. Even when he cut my allowance, I didn't care.

"I started taking out loans from friends and other nobles, and when that money was spent, I took loans from anyone who would give me money. I stopped going home, started staying out all the time. I woke up in strange houses, in the beds of whores I'd paid, and sometimes even in alleys. I think I was trying to kill myself."

Rikter paused, tipping his head back to gaze into Tayla's eyes. She could feel his sorrow as a distant ache, and she let him stroke her face, run fingers through her wet hair. He closed his eyes, laying his forehead to her cheek, and spoke again. "Then _she_ found me. She looked like a perfect little angel, all golden and soft and dainty." The princess felt his pain as her own, and gritted her teeth as he continued.

"Her name was Alexisana. She was traveling, she said, looking for people to join her court. She called herself a margravine in exile, said she need support to regain her lands. It seemed more like she was collecting playthings, because she would spend her money freely, passing out rewards to those who charmed her most.

"I never found out what she saw in me during those days. I was a mess, and I could barely get myself clean enough to attend her little soirees. But she liked me more than any of the other boys who attended. She insisted I come live with her, and she showered me with gifts, and she showed me so many tricks."

His hands clenched on her waist, his entire body shaking. "I was with her when I heard that my brother had died, and everyone was looking for me. I didn't want to go back, because I thought I was in love with Alexisana. She comforted me, told me how tragic my life was, and told me I could stay with her forever if I didn't want to go back to my family holdings. It seemed like a wonderful gift, and I jumped on it. I was so enthralled by her, and I wanted her to give me all that she was.

"So I traveled with her to the next holding, leaving behind my name, my wealth, my friends. None of it mattered, just so long as I could stay with my little goddess. I had even stopped drinking and drugging for her, and I devoted myself to worshiping her body. She told me no one had ever been so dedicated as I.

"But when we got to our next destination, her and myself and a few other toys, things started to change. Her parties started to become darker, and people she hailed as old friends arrived. She allowed her other men to be used by her friends, and she would watch their 'festivities' with such glee. She kept me to herself, but she started using me in new ways. Bondage and pain were now part of her repartee, and part of me loved it anyway. I would let her do anything to me, just so long as she was doing something to me.

"It was during that time that I found out what she was. We were bathing after a marathon session when she asked if I wanted to know everything about her. I, of course, immediately told her yes. She pinned me back, and I had never felt such strength from her. It actually hurt, and I was trying to ask her to stop when she buried her fangs in my neck.

"I had felt this bliss before, but always in the depths of making love, so I had no idea she as anything special. But this was different, and it ripped through me." He shifted, and Tayla moaned, her arms twitching around his shoulder. He moved his head, and now his lips brushed against her neck as he spoke. "It was pure ecstasy, and I never wanted it to end. She drank and drank, and the more she drank, the more delightful it felt. She drug me from the tub, and began drinking from my elbow, then my inner thigh. I was weak, and I was floating, and I was hers entirely."

Tayla's breathing increased, and she pulled herself tighter against him. She could feel heat and pressure building low in her body, urging her to follow up on the memories she was feeling. Rikter's hands were fierce as he massaged her back through the sodden robe, one hand cradling the back of her head. His voice was husky against her skin as he spoke again, pressing her against the side of the tub.

"Let me show you," he said swiftly, tongue dancing across the side of her neck. "Let me share that rapture with you. Let me love you," he whispered, kissing her neck fiercely, his lips clutching at her skin.

She sighed, letting her head tip back in his hand, shivering. Her limbs trembled, and she tried pulling him closer. Her thoughts spun in worthless circles, and she became nothing but need. His need, her need, it didn't matter. She wanted him to have her.

Yet a part of her trembled in fear. She feared allowing him to have his way with her, feared what it would mean. She feared that he wouldn't stop, or that she wouldn't. She feared becoming nothing more than a toy.

His teeth grazed her flesh, and she cried out, nerves tingling, heart racing, and lifted a hand to the back of his head. He growled, opening his mouth wider, his chest pressing hard against the girl, and held her still.

"I don't honestly think we have time for this," Starbeth said icily, her voice disrupting Rikter's movement.

Chapter 20

Tayla cried out, suddenly trembling in the baron's arms, blushing furiously. His black eyes were blank when he gazed at her, then he blinked and turned to the other woman. Tayla could feel the female vampire's amusement, but it was soon drowned out by Rikter's frustration. "I did come here for more than just a great time, remember?"

Rikter pulled himself from the water, sheet clinging possessively around his long legs, keeping his gaze on Starbeth. "Get dressed, little rose. I'll attend my needs, do not worry. When you're ready, meet me in the foyer." His shoulders were tense as he left the bathroom, trailing water after him. Starbeth's blue eyes gleamed as she turned to follow him.

Tayla choked back a sob, and rose from the bath. She dressed in a daze, leaving her hair wet and heavy down her back. Sorrow and frustration were her companions as she made her way down the stairs, and she pushed all thought away. The princess did not want to deal with what had almost happened in the bath.

Rikter was pacing in the foyer as she made the descent, Starbeth lounging against a wall. Tayla couldn't resist the smile that crossed her lips as she met Rikter's eyes. His presence pushed away her sorrow, and filled her with safety again. He nodded, his hair back in a tight braid, then turned towards his guest. "Show us what you came here for," he said curtly.

Starbeth's eyes flashed for a brief moment, and she glanced at the girl. "You sure you want her involved in this?"

"She is my assistant in all things." Tayla blushed faintly with pride, looking down her nose at the female vampire.

Starbeth sighed, pushing away from the wall, and led them outside. "Just remember you were given a chance to put her away," the petite woman tossed over her shoulder as they crossed the courtyard.

A lamp blazed in the stable, the horses snorting restlessly. The group made their way half way down the aisle to an empty stall. Starbeth pointed over the door, and Rikter looked. Tayla followed him, and stiffened as his anger radiated from his tense form.

Huddled in the back of the stall was one of Rikter's brigands. The young man looked up with frightened eyes, covered in bruises and cuts, dirt embedded in his skin. His clothes were torn, revealing more bruises and scratches.

Rikter gripped the top of the stall door, controlling his temper, though it buzzed along Tayla's nerves. The girl stood to his side, wringing her hands and frowning with the effort of pushing his emotions away. Starbeth crossed her arms beneath her breasts, waiting for someone to speak. One of the horses trumpeted loudly for attention.

The baron finally spoke. "How did he come to be in your possession, in this condition?"

Starbeth's voice was soft when she spoke. "A party of guards from several of the neighboring lands came to my door. They asked me if I had seen bandits in the area, if anyone had been bothering me. I of course told them no, but they seemed rather insistent. I was forced to use my powers on them to keep them from searching the grounds. It was rather annoying, I'll have you know."

"I'll make it up to you if you want," Rikter snapped. "Just tell me what happened."

Starbeth sniffed, looking toward the brigand. "Well, I took every bit of knowledge I could. Apparently some well-organized group of highwaymen assaulted a large trade caravan. Slaughtered dozens, took the goods, and a handful of people. They crossed the river, and they split up, making it harder to track them. Since the caravan was technically on free land, no one king or lord has jurisdiction. So they're _all_ looking for the bandits." Starbeth turned her blue eyes to the girl. "They're taking a special interest in the survivors."

Rikter turned, resting a hand on the princess's shoulder. She looked at him, trembling, tears in her eyes. She wanted to speak, even opened her mouth to do so, but he shook his head. Tayla closed her eyes, suppressing a shiver, and leaned against a post for support.

"What else?" Rikter asked softly, his hand still on the girl.

"The trail was muddied by the rains, making it hard to track them. Plus, the bandits kept dividing into smaller groups, which means the search parties had to break up as well. They're stretched pretty thin. Even the soldiers from King Handern are stretched to their limits." Tayla trembled at the sound of her father's name, and Rikter's hand squeezed harder, steadying her. Biting her lip, she drew a deep breath and tried to hide her reaction.

"The men who came to my door," Meghan continued, "were part of a sweep. They're just going back and forth across the countryside looking for the trail again. They knew that a group of the bandits were in the area, they just didn't know where they were holed up. It seems some of the lesser nobles were getting their noses tweeked, and have already sent petitions to their respective kings. This will not end well, but I can't see them moving on much farther."

Rikter's hand trembled on Tayla's shoulder, and he drew it to his side. She looked at him, saw his face lose all emotion, though she could still feel his anger. "How did this one become involved?"

"He was with them. They had apparently caught him hiding near my lands, and that's why they were insisting on coming inside. It's also how they knew they were on the right track."

Rikter turned, and closed the distance between the two of them. "I am sorry you got dragged into this," he told the vampire. "I never meant for that."

Tayla watched Starbeth smile lovingly at him, and the woman touched his arm. "I will always be involved with you. You will just have to make it up to me," she said with a knowing wink. Dropping her hand, she looked at the cowering human. "So I sent the guards back to their captain with the impression this one had died from exposure, and that I had been very cooperative. Then I came here as fast as I could."

Rikter shook his head. "They were never supposed to lead them towards your house. They were supposed to follow the roads south for a day, and then scatter. They were to lose themselves in the wilderness, not head towards people." He began trembling with his rage, and Tayla winced, feeling it lashing around him. "They are threatening everything I had planned."

The brigand in the stall said something in his native tongue, reaching towards Rikter. The vampire hissed, yanking open the stall, and was in front of the man in a blink. The princess watched Rikter lift the man by his throat, holding him in the air. The brigand kicked and choked, struggling in Rikter's grip. The man's fear brushed her perceptions, and she took a step back.

Rikter was shouting at the man, his anger making a growl from his words. Finally the vampire threw the man back to the floor, and crossed his arms as he glared down at the coughing man. The highwayman started speaking in a low voice, his eyes averted from the baron. Starbeth nodded as he spoke, clearly understanding the language.

Rikter kicked the man savagely in the head, sending him crashing against the wall. The horse in the next stall snorted, tossing its head, and Tayla gasped at the anger pressing against her skin. The vampire turned, his nostrils flaring as he strode from the stall. "Get me a rope," he shouted at no one in particular. In the distance, Tayla heard someone scurrying to fill the command.

"What are you planning to do?" Starbeth asked, arms still crossed nonchalantly.

"I'm going to hang him. I can't have him hanging around here, and I seemingly can't trust him to his own devices." The baron clenched his fists, wringing a gasp from the princess with that simple movement.

"Why must you hang him?" she asked, clenching her own fists to fight off the overwhelming emotions.

Rikter turned his heavy gaze to her, and she refused to flinch. "Because he disobeyed me. He and at least six others started back to my holdings before they were supposed to. I can only hope that everyone else did as they were told, and that those soldiers are all heading towards the slave markets east of here, and that they're not thinking these men are hiding in the free states."

"Will your king really not raise his hand to defend you?" Her hands were trembling with her efforts, and she clasped them in front of her.

Rikter shook his head, stepping closer. The girl winced as the intensity of his anger increased. "He certainly won't go to war over some soldiers looking for brigands. I live far enough away from the site of the attack, and out of the way of that particular highway, so I can pray that they don't suspect me of anything. But I don't live far enough past the border holdings to avoid their searches. If some of those hunters get here, I can't have my little curs wandering around, now can I?"

Tayla shook her head, unable to speak. _My father's men could be on their way here. They could be looking for me right now. They will take me back home, and then Father will send me off again, and this will all be a bad dream._

Words fell from her lips before she realized she was speaking. "What if there were a way to avoid hanging him, and yet throw any searchers off the scent?"

Rikter narrowed his eyes, staring intently at the girl. "Speak."

Her voice was tremulous as she continued. "If these bandits did make it through the borders and all the way to your holdings, you would of course have to enforce some punishment on them. But if they threw themselves on your mercy, you would be cruel to hang them still. A decade of servitude to make up for their crimes, and any goods they have confiscated and returned to their rightful owners. Because they are on your lands and under your jurisdiction, you would not turn them over to any guards, and might even refuse to let them be questioned. Of course, the guards could return the goods for you, save you the trouble of doing it."

Rikter was still shaking with anger, but he smiled at the girl. "That is a good idea. It would give me so much more time to punish them if any one followed them here. I like it." A stable boy arrived with a bundle of rope, and the vampire smiled broadly. "And just in time too." He stepped closer, almost touching the girl, and looked down into her green eyes. "Now why would you speak for this cur, when you wouldn't speak for your princess?"

Tayla sobbed, tears instantly springing to her eyes, and she realized what she had done. She tried to look away, but Rikter grasped her chin and made her look at him. Blinking slowly, she spoke in a whisper. "I am tired of seeing death and pain. I just cannot take it anymore."

Rikter's mouth tightened, and his hand gripped her chin painfully. Tayla bit off a cry, shaking with the urge to run from him. "So my little rose is a coward," he said tersely. "No real love for other humans. Just a selfish desire to avoid her own pain." Rikter scoffed, his thumb wiping a tear from her cheek before he let her go. Ignoring the stable boy, the baron stalked back toward the house.

Tayla stood in the aisle, shaking, wrapping her arms around herself. She ached deep inside, thinking about Meghan, and wondering why she hadn't tried to do more for Meghan. _Was there anything I could have done for her? Would he have listened to me if I begged for mercy? I would have just ended up like her. It would have made things so much worse._

Starbeth approached, her face unreadable. Tayla looked down at her, and slowly wiped her eyes. When the girl seemed somewhat in control of herself, the female vampire smirked darkly. "I'm glad to see you two are so comfortable with your love."

Tayla gasped, and stumbled back a step. Her mouth worked as she tried to speak, cheeks burning with her shock. "What do you mean?" she finally whimpered.

Starbeth tipped her head, blinking innocently. "You mean you hadn't realized he loves you?"

Tayla shuddered, heart stuck in her throat, and turned away from Starbeth. The girl refused to acknowledge the woman's words. The girl almost ran into the stable hand in her effort to escape.

"What should I do with him, Mistress?" the boy asked. The rope was still in his hands, and he looked desperate for orders.

"See to his wounds," she said, immediately regaining strength in the act of commanding. "Get him a place to sleep, and then assign him the foulest job on the grounds until further notice." Seeing the boy nod in response, Tayla made her way to the exit. As she crossed into the courtyard, she realized she had just acted like a princess in front of Starbeth. Swallowing hard, she scurried back into the house.

The princess moved swiftly through the house, shaking, feeling drained. _I cannot deal with this tonight. I cannot_ ever _deal with this. I would rather struggle through his ledger books. I would rather go back to the market square._ She stopped a maid long enough to have a meal brought to her room, then headed up the stairs to find the baron.

Tayla had expected to find him in his office. Instead, the baron was stripped to the waist in his sword studio, boots clicking against the wooden floor as he moved in a fluid dance with his practice blade. She gasped as she stepped from the stairs, her pulse thickening as her eyes locked on the flexing body before her. He spun with the sword, arms tense, loose hair flying around his head, veins standing out along his forearms. Tayla tensed with his movements, feeling her muscles reacting.

She stumbled forward, clutching at her shirt, feeling herself breath in time with the vampire. Every movement bought a responding twitch to her muscles, and sweat started to bead on her skin. Moaning slightly, she felt his anger dissipating through the air, felt his calm returning. Her hands ached to hold a sword, and she bit her lip, wishing it away.

Rikter stopped, holding the sword at his side, his eyes heavy on the princess. She swooned momentarily, and stumbled back against the wall. As her vision cleared, she watched him replace the sword on the rack. His muscles rippled as he moved, and the girl bit her lip as she watched him. She could not fight her reaction to him, and as he turned glittering eyes to her, she knew he was aware of her attraction.

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and she watched his chest clench. He tossed his hair out of his eyes, licking his lips, and began speaking suddenly. "You seem able to inflict your emotions upon others. Alexisana could do that too. She did it all the time. I think she liked doing it more than she liked tasting someone else's emotions."

Tayla shook as she fought to control herself. Her heart was choking her, making it hard to breathe. She was intent upon regaining control, and found herself unable to tear her eyes from the vampire. "I have no idea how to do that." Her voice was throaty and weak, and she cursed herself for finding Rikter like this. _I am too weak and tired to handle this. It is too overwhelming._ Tayla started to cry.

"I'm never completely sure about you. You cry and shake and tell me no, but when your hunger hits me, I know that part of you wants it."

"I never want it," she whispered, clawing at her forearms, hoping pain would give her a handle on her talent.

Rikter shrugged, looking away for a moment. "I seem to recall a writhing and moaning young woman that I rescued from an imminent rape. She was fairly blazing with her desire. It was no wonder those fools wouldn't let her go."

Tayla shook her head. "No. That did not happen."

Rikter pushed away from his wall, striding toward the princess, and she cried out as his desire wrapped around her. "Just because you don't remember it doesn't mean it didn't happen. You _were_ writhing like some wanton wench, and you _were_ enjoying what they were doing to you." He smiled, within paces of her. Tayla panted as her body burned with his need, shuddering against the wall. There was no way for her to control it. "Well, parts of you were enjoying it. The rest of you was rather upset about it. I think that's why you were so grateful when I finally saved you." He licked his lower lip, eyes half lidded. " _So_ incredibly grateful."

She shivered, his memories brushing against her, and she could feel his body against hers. Her skin crawled with the feel of his hands, and she began moaning under her breath. The vampire came closer, and the air practically filled with sparks as the distance between them shortened. Her back arched, and she heard Rikter gasp as he watched her move. "What are you talking about?" she asked breathlessly.

Rikter closed the gap in a blur, trapping the girl against the wall with his presence, his arms braced on either side of her shoulders. She could taste his musk, and the princess whimpered again. The vampire drew a deep breath, his mouth near her neck, and Tayla watched his neck work as he swallowed deeply. "You were so on edge, aroused, intoxicated, and you wanted me. You threw yourself at me, and you begged me to take you." His voice became a deep whisper, and her skin crawled pleasantly in reaction. "I was so close to giving you what you wanted."

Tayla shook her head, a moment of clarity giving her a brief respite. "No. It is merely your desire I feel. It makes me want you. You are using it against me."

Rikter lowered his head, his mouth a hair's breadth from her shoulder, and she felt his lust trembling between them. "Oh yes, I do desire you. Any man would be a fool not to desire you. And you tempt me. You make me want to give in, to break my word." He groaned, and she shuddered in response, her hands suddenly going to his waist. "You tempt me like no woman ever has before."

Tayla shook as she fought to break free. Her fingers traced the edges of his stomach, following the line up to his chest, and she sighed. He moved his head, his breath washing across her neck, and his hunger surged, ripping a groan from her. Her hands twitched, and her nails raked his pectorals. "I do not want this," she whispered desperately.

He chuckled lowly, bending his mouth to hers. "You kissed me after I rescued you. Do you remember that? Do your remember biting at my neck?" His lips brushed hers, and she shivered.

"No," she whispered. She bit her lip, turning her head from his questing mouth. "No," she said with more strength, her hands pushing him away. "No!" she finally screamed, shoving at him, scratching his chest. He stepped back, and she glared at him with tear filled eyes. Tayla slapped at his chest, her hands flailing as frustration surged through her veins. "I do not want you," she declared at the top of her lungs, her hands clenching to fists. Her blows thudded on his solid chest, and he took another step backwards.

Tayla didn't see his hand move, but she was suddenly reeling back, her cheek stinging. The princess turned back to him, eyes wide with shock, cupping a hand over her burning cheek. She saw his shoulder twitch, and then his other hand was slamming into her exposed cheek. Tayla cried out as she stumbled back, crashing into the wall. Her knees buckled as stars danced before her eyes, and she slid to the floor in a heap.

She tried to mumble an apology, but it came out a scream as his boot lashed out. The toe dug into her thigh, and she cringed away, instinctively covering her head. Rikter's surge of anger hit her almost as hard as his fist, and the girl began crying. Her thoughts were a blur of apologies, but she could speak none of them. Even crawling away didn't save her, as the vampire followed Tayla across the floor. She screamed as the heel of his boot stomped into the small of her back.

Her vision became a blur of white pain, and everything faded to the searing throb in her back. Tayla thought she scrabbled at the floor, but there was no way to be sure. Someone was keening pitifully, and it sounded like her. Breathing became an impossibility, and the princess collapsed on the floor.

Her world remained distant, a part of her mind detached from the goings on. Tayla was aware of Rikter suddenly stooping to her side, his voice concerned as he called her name. She watched herself try to answer, saw him frowning. Pain overwhelmed her momentarily as he pulled her into his arms, and she knew she started sobbing afresh. The vampire held her in his arms, touching her leg and back, fingers probing tender flesh. She kicked and screamed, trying to writhe away from him, but he held her firm. Sighing with relief, he lifted her up, and carried her to her room.

The walk up the stairs was too much for her, and she blacked out momentarily, coming to as Rikter laid her in the bed, beginning to take her clothes off. She moaned, stirring, attempting to help him, then winced in pain as something in her back spasmed. Tayla panted helplessly as the vampire knelt beside her. "Don't move, my little rose. Just let me take care of you." His voice was full of pain, and Tayla could feel his sorrow.

She let him undress her, watching with helpless eyes, pondering on his actions. _One moment he is beating me ruthlessly, the next he is practically crying over me. I do not understand him._

_Not entirely true. I understand that he has only ever lifted a hand like this when I have attacked him. All I need to do is control my own reactions, and not provoke him_ She cried out as he lifted her to a better position in the bed, pulling a sheet over her. _But can I learn to control my emotions?_

Rikter knelt beside the bed, clasping her hand in his, and she saw the bloody tears standing in his eyes. "I'll find something to dull the pain, my rose. I'm so sorry I went this far. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course I forgive you," she said quickly, without thinking. She trembled as her body throbbed, and frowned at him, forcing more words past aching lips. "I will forgive you if you can forgive my actions."

Rikter kissed her fingertips, and a tear fell down his angled cheek. "Tayla, you have absolutely nothing for me to forgive." He kissed the palm of her hand. "I provoked you, and I let my fear get the better part of me."

"Fear?" she asked, confused. "I felt no fear, only anger."

He nodded, pressing his forehead against her hand. "It's because I don't let anyone know about it," he whispered. "I was angry. Angry about more than just my plans getting mucked up. I was frustrated that Starbeth interrupted us." Tayla blushed, biting her swollen lip. "I was angry at myself that I have been letting my emotions get the better part of me. I thought I had burned it out of my system with my work out, but then..." His voice trailed off, and the princess waited patiently.

He looked up, eyes haunted, and brushed his mouth across her fingers again. "I felt your hunger. I felt your attention. I felt you shaking, was shaking myself with it, and I was angry at that."

"I did not mean-" He pressed a finger to her lips, cutting off her words.

"I know you didn't mean it. I know you can't control it. I already told you that. But I was already on edge, and it irked me that I should feel something from an untrained girl. I swore I would never let anyone force me to feel something I didn't want to. When you tried to get me to back off, I just snapped."

He let the silence build, and she watched him carefully. He pressed his head to her hand again, then began to rise. "Do not leave me," she said swiftly, clutching at his hands. She couldn't have said why she wanted him to stay, but she knew it had something to do with the anguish she felt inside him.

He smiled briefly, his eyes lighting up, and he squeezed her fingers. "Let me get a servant then. Get you something to eat, and something to dull the pain." He bent down, running a hand through her hair. "Would that be all right?"

She nodded, feeling like a little child, enjoying the attention. He kissed her forehead, then walked from the room. Tayla must have dozed, because the next thing she knew he was touching her shoulder, urging her to sit up. A tray of food waited on the table beside her, and she allowed him to adjust her pillows until she was lounging in an upright position. He settled next to her, balancing the tray across her legs.

"How bad do you feel?" he asked, clasping his hands around on knee. He had put on a shirt while he was gone, though it was not closed all the way. His hair was damp, curling around his face. It was hard for the girl to recall the way his mouth snarled when he was angry.

"I cannot rightly say," she said, snuggling back into the pillows. "Everything hurts. I want to cry." He winced, turning his head away. His hair shifted, curtaining his face, and she shivered with his anguish. She reached for him, and he looked back at her when her fingers brushed his shoulder. "Where is the pain killer?"

His smile as fleeting, his hand trembling faintly when he reached for her. "You should not carry this burden alone." Rikter closed his eyes, settling his hand on her collarbone, drawing a deep breath. Tayla's breath caught in her throat as the vampire drew on her pain, numbing her to the tortured aches of her body. There was some stiffness still, and a knowledge that she was wounded, but Rikter had taken most of it to himself. The princess smiled shyly when his black eyes reopened, and was rewarded with a deeper smile from her captor.

She looked down at the food, a thick stew with flaky bread on the side, then back at the vampire. "Tell me about what you fear," she said.

His eyes narrowed for a moment, and she felt his emotions suddenly cut off. She sighed, not realizing how deeply she'd shared his pain. He shook, and she watched his gaze shift, as if he looked at something far away.

"I told you that Alexisana finally revealed herself to me. It was a bit of a shock, but I handled it well. I didn't care, actually, because I was so in love with her. It just made her that much more divine to me. I told her she could do anything she wanted to me.

"She took it as whole hearted submission. She let me taste her talents, showed me that she could share my sensations. She used it to turn her little torture sessions into something blissful, despite the pain. I begged for more, because it was headier than any drug I'd ever tried. She kept testing my limits, leaving scars as signs of her love, and I endeavored to prove myself worthy for her.

"I was with her at one of her little parties when one of her male friends asked to use me. I balked, and told her no, and she didn't like that." Rikter paused, closing his eyes. His voice was agonized when he next spoke, and Tayla reached a hand to grasp his. "She gave me to her friend, and as he raped me, she forced her pleasure onto me. I got sick, and I tried to fight it, but there was no stopping it. It felt like it went on forever.

"When the party was done, I tried to lash out at her. I tried to tell her I would never be a plaything for anyone to use, and we got in a fight. She lashed out at me, and she broke my arm in three places, and then she had her way with me. All the time she was using my body, she told me how delicious my pain was, even as she laced it with ecstasy."

"I dreamt of that," the princess whispered. Rikter questioned her with a pain-filled gaze, and she licked her lips. "The day after you killed Mardain, when I was sleeping in your arms...I dreamt of something just like that."

He shivered, turning his head away. The air chilled with a taste of fear, and she bit her lip painfully. She squeezed his hand, tugging it towards her, and the vampire looked back, frowning with his private pain. "I was thinking about all the tortures that bitch inflicted on me," he whispered breathily. "I had no idea it would leak into your dreams."

She smiled endearingly, wondering at her reaction, and pulled him closer. "I have never slept in someone else's arms like that. There was no knowing it was possible." The vampire relented to her tugging, and let himself fall against her body. The dishes clattered on the tray, and the princess slid it far from them before it spilled. Wrapping herself around the baron, she felt his tension relax.

"It only got worse from there," he said as she stroked his long hair. "She started to keep me as an animal. No longer was I her pampered lover, I was locked in a dark cage, I was barely fed, and I was tormented by anyone who came by. She used to have me beaten just to see me bleed. I seemed to lose my mind, and I became the beast she wanted me to be. I raged and struggled when she let someone use my body, and I attacked anyone who came too close to me. It was amusing to her and her ilk to taunt me, to see how much I would hurt myself to get at them."

He shook in her arms, and she found herself pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He sighed, wrapping an arm around her stomach, settling closer. "I've never told anyone but Starbeth this story"

_Was she right? Does he love me?_ "How does Starbeth come into all this?"

"She was the one who saved me. She came to one of Alexisana's parties, and she was the only one who _didn't_ torment me. I attacked her, and she didn't mind, and she was kind to me. She took me home with her, and I found out later that she paid a lot of money to do so. She cared for me, and nursed me back to a semblance of humanity. I was still wild and scarred, and scared of my own shadow, but I was no longer an animal. I was so sad when she gave me back to Alexisana.

"I was broken, deep inside, and I flinched from everything Alexisana did. This fear seemed to intrigue her more than my wildness, and she didn't abuse me as before. She kept me close while she tormented some new lover, and she let me taste her pleasures. Sometimes she fed from me, sometimes she even brought me to her bed, but I was still scared of her. I wanted to die.

"I tried to kill myself. Many times." He pulled one of his sleeves up, revealing a long scar up the inside of his arm. "She found me when I did this, and she drank all the blood I spilled, and healed me. She took great care nursing me back to health, and I kept waiting for her punishment. It never came.

"I kept trying to die, and she kept thwarting me. I became a mere ghost, wisping here and there at her command, awaiting her desires. It was horrid. I sometimes felt I was better off as her pet beast. And I missed Starbeth, but I dared not ask Alexisana about her. She was a very jealous mistress.

"Years must have passed since I first joined her little entourage, and I didn't think anyone would have recognized me anymore. I was surprised by my own reflection. It was frightening, almost, what I had become.

"I was wandering around one of the manors we were staying at when I found absinthe in the liquor cabinet. I knew Alexisana was drawn to that drink, knew it made her lose control. She never let me touch the stuff, and I suddenly knew that was why. So while she still slept, I drank the whole bottle, and I waited for her. I was so far gone, I didn't even notice when she finally woke and found me in her bed. I do remember feeling her drink, and drink, and drink some more. It was cold, and yet it felt wonderful. It felt like freedom.

"But it wasn't death I found at the end of that bite. When I finally came to, she was still suckling me to her wrist, still giving me her blood, and she was crying. She said she'd almost lost me, that she was so scared, and that she wanted me forever. I think I must have said something, because she pulled away from me, and there was nothing but fear in her face. I could feel her fear, but I realized she couldn't control me with it.

"Time was a blur from that point. She took care of me, tried to teach me about what she'd made me into, and I learned to control my new hungers. We came to an uneasy companionship. She stopped taking me to her parties, and coached me, and tried to make me love her again. It didn't work, and the more I found out about my new powers, the less I liked being around her. She was losing her grip, since she could no longer control me. She could share her sensations with me all she wanted, it held no sway over my mind.

"A year later, she asked me what I wanted from her. I told her I wanted Starbeth still. So she packed me off to her, and it was Starbeth who continued to train me, who coaxed me back to sanity. I stayed with her for decades, falling in love with her, and I grew stronger. I learned so much from her. She taught me how to govern, and how to make money. She taught me how to walk in the sun again, how to move amongst humans without losing control. She was wonderful."

Rikter shifted against Tayla, resting his head more comfortably on her shoulder. "I thought I was all better, and I thought I was normal again. I stopped caring about Alexisana, and for the most part I forgot about how I lived when with her. Starbeth gave me this barony, and I lived on my own, and I felt whole and strong. Then I met you, and found out about your talent."

He paused, twining a lock of her hair around strong fingers. Tayla waited for him, running her fingers through his hair, feeling his roiling emotions. "The first time I felt it, I wasn't sure what it was." His voice was hushed, rumbling through her shoulder. "The more I found out about it, the more it started to disturb me. The night you were enthralled by me and Mardain, I thought your mind might snap. And I was terrified of you. I didn't know I still harbored a fear of when Alexisana used to control me. When I thought it was just you feeling other's emotions and sensations, I thought I could handle it. I was sure I would be fine.

"But the first time I felt your emotions, it began eating at all those carefully laid defenses I had. I began remembering more and more of how it was when I was her pet. And I never wanted to be like that again. I began fearing you, began fearing what would happen when you learned to control this talent." He turned his head, looking up at her with tears in his eyes again. "It was that fear that caused me to attack you like I have. Will you forgive me?"

Tayla smiled, suddenly stroking his cheek. "I already said I would forgive you. I now understand that this is as frightening for you as it is for me." She paused, thinking. "If you can learn not to fear me, I can learn not to project my emotions to you."

He smiled, shifting his head again, holding her closer. "I think I can make that deal."

She shifted against her pillows, suddenly feeling sleepy. Despite the pain of her body, despite his rampage, and the emotional scars he had bared, she felt safe in his arms. With a great sigh, she nuzzled against him and fell asleep.

Chapter 21

Tayla closed her book, lifting her head from the pillow. She heard something rumbling outside, distant voices accompanying it, and she frowned. The sounds grew louder, and curiosity became too great. Tayla rose from the bed with a wince, and made her way to the window.

Her view was mostly of the forest, not the courtyard, but she could see movement below, and now heard the creak of wagons. She frowned, peering around the edge of her window, tempted to open it to look around the corner of the house. As she reached for the sash, she heard Rikter's voice. The princess turned from the window, pulling the neck of her dressing gown closed, and limped to her robe. _If he is involvde in something, I should be with him, to help him. Besides, I want to see what is going on._

She donned her silk robe, and made her way down the stairs. She still ached, and her back twinged as she moved. Three days of rest showed her healed, yet her back still caused her problems. Rikter came to her every night and massaged her. It helped, as did the painkillers he brought her. The princess refused to let him share her pain anymore, and the vampire relented. She'd started reading again, relaxing in her bed, but now she was bored. Despite the pain of using the stairs, the princess continued through the house.

The front doors were wide open, Rikter standing atop the stairs, hands on his hips. The butler stood behind him, waiting patiently. Men were milling loudly outside, and an ox lowed deeply. Tayla pulled her robe closer, the night air chilled, and approached the vampire. He spared her no glance, but did nod as she stood beside him.

Several men stirred in the courtyard, calming the ox that pulled a heavy wagon. The group looked tired and filthy, and the ox had seen better days. The least dirty of the men came to the base of the stairs, and immediately knelt. Rikter moved down a few steps, and spoke in a deep voice, the foreign words slipping easily from his tongue. Tayla shivered, recognizing the language.

These were the men who had kidnapped her and slaughtered the caravan.

She continued shaking at the top of the steps, glaring down at the unkempt man. He had finally risen from his knees, and was talking emphatically to the vampire. Rikter's anger began pooling through the night, and the princess saw him clenching his fists as he moved down another step. The bandit stumbled back, his grimy face paling.

The other brigands had halted, and were watching the dispute from the wagon. They trembled, and fell to their knees, murmuring what might have been apologies. Rikter finally reached the apparent leader of the group, and grabbed the man about the throat. Tayla gasped at the surge of the baron's anger, and clenched a fist in her robe. Her back was trembling, and the fading bruise on her thigh began to throb with her pulse, but she was determined to watch this.

The ruffian gurgled as Rikter lifted him from his feet. The vampire growled, and she saw blood trickling from the grip around the shaggy neck. Tayla felt a part of herself glad to see the man being punished. This was a man who had killed to get her, had raped her best friend, would have been willing to rape the princess herself. She smiled, stepping forward for a better view, tasting Rikter's anger and feeling it as righteous justice.

The baron flung the man to the ground, stepping closer to the wagon. Rikter kicked over one of the bandits, punching another in the head. Tayla watched as he moved through them with a flurry of blows, and her grin deepened with each attack. She had never felt such a thrill as watching him abuse men who had wanted to abuse her.

When had her disgust of violence and pain disappeared?

Rikter finally stopped with a toss of his hair. He turned his back on the brigands, and looked up at her. Their eyes met, the grin still on her face, and he slowly smiled back at her. Then he turned his gaze toward the butler. "These men will sort through their goods, and then you will have them sent off to the docks. We'll see what is worth selling, and take it from there. Of course, I'll have their little leader hung." His eyes narrowed as he met Tayla's gaze again. "So long as that meets your approval."

Tayla blushed, and trembled for a moment. "As you wish, my lord." _There is no point in dissuading him. Besides, I want to know that these men are hurt._

The butler went back into the house, calling for other servants. Rikter turned to the brigands, growling a low command, and the men got back to their feet. Once they started moving, the vampire came back up the stairs slowly. Tayla was shaking with pain, but she managed to remain standing. Rikter touched her elbow, and she bit back a shudder.

He ran a hand through her hair, then stroked a finger down her cheek. "Why aren't you still in bed? Don't you still hurt?"

She nodded slightly. "It does hurt, but I am your assistant, am I not? I am supposed to be with you, my lord." Her back twinged, and the pain clearly crossed her face. Rikter winced with her, and shook his head.

"It's my fault you are like this, and so I shall simply have to do without your delightful company." She managed to smile, blushing faintly. One good side effect of her beating was that Rikter was spoiling her, and being overly kind. "So go back to bed, and I shall come up with your meal soon."

One of the men called from the wagon, and the vampire turned over his shoulder. The brigand seemed to question Rikter, and the vampire turned farther, staring pointedly. Tayla looked past the baron, and saw a huddled figure at the feet of the bandit. Rikter stiffened, placing a hand on her shoulder, and spoke lowly to his man.

His eyes were narrowed when he glanced back at the princess. She frowned, feeling his sudden stillness, and tipped her head. "What is it, my lord?"

"You should go to your room, my little rose. I don't think you need to see this."

His voice scared her, and the fact that he had pulled his emotions back added a chill to the situation. Her frown deepened, and she reached up to grab his hand. "What is it? Why do you want me to leave, my lord?"

Rikter sighed deeply, stroking her hair again. She waited patiently for him to speak, watching his eyebrows knit together. His voice was low when he finally spoke. "That's Meghan they have with them."

Tayla's heart stilled, and her entire body went numb. She swallowed hard, tears filling her eyes, and she glanced past Rikter to the shaking form beside the wagon. The brigand was standing beside her still, waiting for a command. Rikter shouted something out, and the man moved on, leaving Meghan slumped on the hard stones of the courtyard.

"Meghan?" she whimpered, the tears falling down her cheeks now. She couldn't think, could only stare. Rikter moved to block her view, pulling her against him, trying to soothe her. She pushed against his chest, whimpering lowly, and said the woman's name again.

"Tayla, it will hurt." His voice was steady, no emotion in it, and it caused the girl to look up at him. His eyes were filled with something unreadable.

"She is my friend," Tayla said softly, sniffling. "I cannot just leave her like this. I have to do something."

The vampire lowered his head, eyes closing, and he sighed. "Take her up to our rooms. Get her cleaned, and we'll take it from there."

Tayla started past him, and he grabbed her arm. "Don't go near them," he whispered. He called out in the bandit's tongue, and one of the filthy men stopped his work, gathering Meghan up. Rikter met him part way down the stairs, and brought the brutalized woman the remaining distance. His eyes were sorrowful as he handed Meghan to the princess. "I'll join you shortly," he said, refusing to look at the princess.

Tayla stood before her friend for a moment, confused, unable to move. Her heart beat quickly, and she trembled with the urge to do something, anything. Rikter pressed the handmaid forward, and Tayla caught the filthy woman. Her back twinged, and she groaned lowly, wrapping her arms around Meghan. The older woman whimpered, shaking, her skin burning with fever. Tayla drew a determined breath, and led her friend into the house.

They passed servants on their way about different duties, and Tayla flagged one down. He was one of the gardeners, and when he stopped, Meghan flinched. The princess kept her arm around the woman, keeping her from running, and ordered a spare set of clothes brought up to her room, something large enough for the woman to wear. The gardener nodded, saying he'd tell the maids, and left them.

Tayla looked up the stairs, daunted by the prospect of climbing, but slowly made her way to the next story. Meghan whispered constantly under her breath, her matted hair down across her face, hands ceaselessly picking at the scabs on her forearms. Tayla tried not to look too closely, afraid she would break down. The twinges of pain from her bruises helped the girl distance herself from Meghan's emotions.

When they finally reached the dark bathing room, Tayla was nearly out of breath. Meghan silently followed her as she brought a lamp from her room, then lit several lamps in the bathroom with a taper. Tayla settled Meghan on the vanity stool, and leaned against the wall while she regained her wind. Tears welled in her eyes as she watched her handmaid rock back and forth, scrawny arms wrapped around her chest, singing a lullaby beneath her breath.

_What have they done to her? Is she completely lost, or will she come back to her senses? I do not know that she will want to come back to her senses. I could not blame her if she remained like this._ The girl pushed away from the wall, making her way to the tub, drawing a hot bath for Meghan. _I cannot believe how much weight she has lost. It is like they never fed her. They certainly never bathed her._ Tayla led the woman to the hot water, stripping her of her rags. Meghan shrieked like a young child when she first stepped into the water, and the princess coaxed her to stay.

Meghan played in the splashing water once Tayla had her settled. The girl frowned, pulling out soaps and scrubbers, studying the bruises and cuts all over Meghan's body. _This could have been me, had Rikter not kept me for himself. Would I be in any better condition?_ She swallowed hard, kneeling to bathe the woman. _I think I would have given in to despair by now. I would have simply faded away. I have never had the strength Meghan has._

Meghan became almost child-like as Tayla scrubbed her down. The blond woman played with the soap bubbles, blowing them in Tayla's face, splashing gleeful in the dingy water. She tried to fight having her hair washed, but Tayla was patient with her, and talked to her like she was a child, and got Meghan to hold still long enough to get most of the grime from her hair. _I shall most likely have to have it hacked off,_ the princess thought as she pulled at the tangles.

Finally Meghan was presentable enough, and Tayla drained the water. She rinsed the woman once more, and as the dirt sluiced away, further wounds were revealed. Most of Meghan's right hip was a sickly green bruises, and she wouldn't stand with her weight on her left foot. Scratches all along her back were becoming scars, and several nails were missing from her hands. Tayla sobbed when Meghan smiled at her, revealing several broken teeth. The princess pulled her servant from the tub, wrapping her in a large towel.

Meghan was much livelier as Tayla led her to her bedroom. The princess felt a glimmer of hope that her friend would come back to her.

Then the handmaid saw Rikter lounging in one of the high-backed chairs. Tayla gasped as rage surged from her friend, and she stumbled back against the wall. Meghan quivered with fury, hands crooking into claws, and a low whine started in the back of her throat. Rikter sat passively, clothes piled on the table next to him, his eyes blinking slowly at the crazed woman.

Tayla reached for Meghan, thinking to comfort her, then cried out as she lunged for Rikter. The vampire rose in a smooth move, batting Meghan effortlessly aside, his face impassive. Tayla stumbled forward, vision dimming as a riot of emotions raged across her nerves, and fell to her knees. She fought to draw breath, dimly watching as Meghan lifted herself from the floor and flew at Rikter once more.

Tayla remained on all fours, trembling with her efforts, eyes locked on her friend as Meghan repeatedly threw herself at Rikter, keening and growling with each lunge. The vampire seemed almost bored as he tossed her onto the bed or against a wall.

The princess reached out a hand, trying to touch her friend, trying to stop it, to no avail. Meghan's leg brushed her shoulder during one pass, and the girl cringed with the wave of sickening emotions. Rage and insanity warred within Meghan, and they threatened to overwhelm Tayla. She gagged, collapsing to the floor, her eyes rolling closed.

The haze of insanity suddenly dissipated with a meaty pop.

Chapter 22

Tayla's vision cleared, and she watched Rikter cast Meghan's limp form to the ground. The girl frowned, forcing herself to sit up, eyes locked on her friend. She saw one of the woman's hands twitch, yet it seemed that Meghan was too still. "What have you done?" she whispered.

Rikter stepped closer to her, offering her a hand. "I gave her a mercy, my rose. She was insane, lost, and she was hurting you with it. I could feel you struggling against that, and I didn't want to lose you." She met his eyes, tears blurring her vision. "I broke her neck. She felt no pain."

Tayla let her eyes move from his face to his hand. It stood in stark detail before her, and she stared intently as her mind reeled. "You killed her," she whispered, blinking tears from her eyes.

Rikter sighed softly, and knelt. He touched Tayla's hair, his thumb brushing her face, and she flinched slightly. "Yes, I did. To protect you. It was a mercy."

She met his eyes again, whispering. "You never gave her a chance. She loved me. She wanted to protect me. You destroyed her. You destroyed her that night you gave her to your men." Tayla sobbed, shaking, and pulled away from his soothing hand.

He grabbed her head, gently, holding her gaze to him. She tried to pull away, whining, wanting to leave his presence. Tayla tried to shut her eyes, but darkness would not shut out his words. "A good servant will always love and protect her mistress. Even if that mistress never speaks up for her."

Tayla frowned, pulling away from his hands, grabbing his wrists. "She did speak up for me. She did try to save me. I wanted to protect her now. I was going to help her, I-"

Rikter tugged her forward, and she cried out as his cold lips touched her ear. "Not you protecting her, my rose. I meant she always tried to protect you." His grip loosened, and he moved his mouth to her lips. Tayla opened her eyes, her heart stilling, and she stared directly into his soul deep eyes. "She loved you very much, my sweet princess."

This time when she pulled away, Rikter allowed it. The girl scrambled backwards on her hands, pressing her back to the wall, panting. Her robe had opened, and she clutched it over her chest, trying to speak. Rikter remained on his knees, tipping his head as he watched her. "How did you know?" she whispered lowly.

He smirked, and lowered himself to his hands, moving closer to the girl. "I knew the whole time. Your little lies are nothing to someone who can taste truth. Your little disguise means nothing to the person who knows your plan already." His smile deepened as he came within arm's reach of her. "You were the reason I was even with that caravan. I wanted you."

His hunger brushed her, and the girl cried out. She scrambled to her feet, still pressed against the wall, trying to edge away from him. Rikter's smile revealed his fangs, the tips pressing into the corner of his mouth. Tayla's skin crawled, and she shuddered with fear. Her hand reached the jamb of the bathroom door, and she pulled herself closer to it. "How could you let me carry through with the masquerade?"

He was crawling towards her, hair hanging wildly around his face. He seemed to radiate desire, and reached with one hand to the collar of his shirt. Tayla bit her lip as waves of heat crashed around her, watching him tug his shirt open to reveal more of his pale skin. "It amused me to see you act the servant. It was so obvious to anyone that you didn't know what you were doing. But it was so enjoyable to see you try."

She stepped back, feet slipping briefly on the wet floor. She stumbled, her back crying out at the motion, barely managing to keep her feet. Tayla's eyes were locked on the vampire stalking her, and she felt with her feet to make sure she wasn't coming up to any obstacles. "What do you want from me?" she said, moving past the tub. "My father has plenty of money for a ransom. I could even tell him you rescued me, and you would receive it as a reward."

Rikter pushed up to his knees, drawing his shirt off. Tayla gasped at the sight of his muscles, the vampire's hunger taunting her, bringing her to a frenzy. Her mind whirled, and her mouth was dry, even as a liquid heat poured through her veins. _No, I need strength now. I need to will this all away._ Rikter drew his nails down his chest, raising pink welts, and the girl could not resist a moan.

"It's not your father's money I want," he said, rocking back and rising in a fluid motion that left the girl reeling. "It's always been you. I've wanted nothing more than you, Princess." He reached a hand for her, and she flinched, taking several rapid steps backwards. "I love you, my little rose."

Tayla scoffed loudly, catching a thread of anger in her heart, using it as a life line. "Love? You do not know what love is. You could not possibly know love. You are a damaged monster, a beast, and you are beneath me."

Time froze, every trace of Rikter's lust and hunger evaporating. Tayla gasped, reeling from the speed with which everything changed. The air was cold, despite the lingering steam, and her pulse threatened to choke her. The vampire's face became an alabaster mask, yet his eyes shone with anger. Tayla raised a hand to her mouth, trying to draw the words back. "I am so sorry," she mouthed, not even able to whisper in the face of his impending fury.

His shoulders twitched, and Tayla screamed, turning to run for Rikter's room. It was dark, the light from the bathing room giving enough glow for her to make out the edges of furniture. She was bolting for the door, dodging around an end table, when Rikter loomed before her, snatching her arms in a vise-like hold. She shrieked at the top of her lungs, sagging in his grip.

"Beast?" he hissed, spittle flying from his lips. "A monster? Girl, you have no idea what a monster is." He threw her backwards, and she fell over the table, wrenching her back, her elbow twisting awkwardly as she landed hard on the floor. A heavy tread sounded beside her, and she sobbed as a hand snatched a handful of her hair. "I have been so kind to you, and I have given in to you." Rikter drew her to her feet, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were shadowed, yawning like Stygian depths hungry for her soul. Tayla trembled, biting back a sob.

The vampire snarled, throwing her towards the bed. She bounced as she landed, and immediately started to crawl away. Her heart raced painfully, and her sobs cut off her breathing. Rikter pounced upon her, crushing her to the bed, his body rubbing against her back, his arms caging her on either side. "You have been the most tempting morsel I've ever seen, and I never touched you. I never gave into my desires." He gripped her shoulder painfully, and flipped her to her back. Tayla cried out as he wedged a thigh between her legs, forcing them apart. He eyed her up and down, pinning her to the bed with his hips, then used one hand to tear her dressing gown. The princess shrieked as he exposed her breasts, and she beat helplessly against his chest.

His breath washed across her face, and she turned her gaze from him, screwing her eyes painfully closed. His fingers trembled as they stroked her neck, and she felt a laugh trickle from his chest. "You want to see me as a beast, then I will show you a beast."

He grabbed her wrists, and his clenching fists ground the bones, causing her to groan with the pain. He drove his thigh hard against her sex, his hips bucking against hers, then bent his lips to her neck. She stiffened, tried to turn her head to deny him, but he could not be budged. His mouth opened, and Tayla keened, pulling futilely against his hands. She tried calling his name as his fangs pressed to her soft neck, but he ignored it.

With growl, he bit down, and she arched in pain, her young body pressing into the hardness of his flesh. His fangs were like ice as they seared her neck, making her skin crawl. Her breath caught in her throat, a scream trapped in her chest, and her nails dug into her palms. His growl continued, and he bit deeper, his fangs slicing through her delicate flesh, and settled into the vein.

Her scream turned to a shuddering moan as her blood began to fill his mouth. She shook all over, her loins clenching as he sucked at the wound, tongue brushing her neck. He groaned deeply, the sound rumbling through her body, and the girl panted loudly. She struggled against his grip again, but this time with the intent of wrapping her arms around his shoulders. One of her thighs wrapped around his waist, and he ground against her hot womanhood, stirring nerves throughout her body.

His first swallow sent a crashing sensation through her, and she cried out, pressing herself against him, forcing her neck harder to his mouth. He let one wrist go, drawing his hand to the back of her neck, lifting her to get a deeper bite on her throat. She pressed her hand to the back of his head, forcing him to her, and she gasped as his teeth worked deeper into her vein. Her heart thundered in its efforts to fill his mouth's request, and she felt him begin to moan in time with it.

Time held no meaning for her, and she swooned in his arms, gone completely to the heady feeling of being drained. She was his prey, and part of her thrilled at knowing she was giving him life. He shook with his need, drawing slowly from her, and she was delighted that he drew the rapture out. She felt crashing waves of pleasure, her limbs going numb, and her voice filled the room as she moaned with each breath. The grip on her wrist ground harder, and even that pain caused her to tremble with further pleasure. Every nerve stood on end, and she wanted it never to stop.

Rikter pulled away with a sharp cry, the sound echoed by the girl, and he buried his face against her shoulder. The two of them shook, heat smoldering deep in the girl's loins. Tayla sobbed, vision dim, her head swirling. She felt the sticky blood staining her neck, felt wet heat between her legs, and a faint stinging in the palms of her hands. She twined her fingers in his hair, holding close to him, wanting to wrap herself in his scent and his touch and his heat.

Rikter shifted his head, releasing her wrist. Tayla tried to look at him, but her head would hardly obey her, and her eyes kept fluttering closed. She sighed delightedly as he pressed bloody lips to her mouth, kissing her soundly. "If you were any other woman," he whispered when the kiss broke, "your blood would be all over this bed." He kissed her again, softly, and Tayla let herself fall into darkness.

She stumbles along the uneven path, her silk slippers snagging on every twig and stone in her way. Her knees are already bleeding from a dozen falls, and her palms still sting from the last collision with the ground. Low hanging branches reach greedily for her curled hair, having already claimed the ribbons she started the day with.

She's lost, beyond anything familiar, staring around her at looming trunks, the arching branches forming a ceiling far above her head. She had wanted to leave the party, to escape all the ugly faces that stood so high above her. She can no longer hear their music and laughter, and long gone of the memories of their pinching fingers and patting hands. She's truly escaped it all, but now she can't find anyone.

Darkness clings to every surface, threatening to swallow the little girl as she sniffles in fear. There is no breeze, and yet the leaves rustle with malevolence, drawing her attention from the path before her, waiting for another hidden root to grab at her tiny ankles. Sniggers and chuckles sound in the undergrowth, and she feels eyes staring heavily at her. She knows nothing good waits for her if she stays still too long.

Moonlight dances in slender rays between the leaves, causing the shadows to grow deeper instead of casting them away. She scurries between each slender beam of silver, hearing the echoing steps of something rustling through the undergrowth. Her heart races, trying to climb through her throat, and she feels her palms grow slick with her sweat. Tears are blurring her vision, setting the moonlight to dancing, smearing the surrounding forest into a wall of dark. Somewhere an owl calls, warning all souls away, and she wishes she could fly away with it, rise above the forest.

Ahead on the path she sees a great wall of brightness, the sign of a clearing. At last, an escape from the trees! Clutching tight to her stuffed rabbit toy, she runs towards the light, maintaining her balance for the first time, ignoring the pain of the snags and scratches, keeping her wide eyes locked ahead, and finally bursts out into the brightness.

The argent moonlight is glorious. It wraps her in loving arms, kissing her cheeks, singing a lovely song just for her. In the woods, she hears the darkness growling in frustration, can feel it longing to reach her. But the moon will protect her, has been waiting for her, and has a gift for her. She opens her eyes, looking around for her present.

Standing in the middle of the clearing is a darkness deeper than the shadows of the forest. She stares, the trees looming hungrily at her back, the figure looming over her. Biting her lip, she looks up, and eyes glitter at her from far above. Never has she felt this small before, even amongst the ancient trees. Ducking her head with shyness, she clutches tighter to her rabbit, then gazes intently back up at the shadow. It's as if the entire night sky is contained in this figure, and she wants to soar through them and into freedom.

The figure loses height, grows wider, resolving itself into a man. She can see the curious frown on his face, his eyes still, endless and deep. His face is like a statue, carved and planed by the moon, his features unreal. She bites her lips harder, smelling a storm approaching, the rain heavy upon the air. Yet it seems that he is the storm, that the cold smell is his own, and it calls to her with its muskiness.

A milk white hand appears from the shadow, caressing her tangled hair, protective and loving. He traces her face with his fingertips, and she smiles at him, not hating the attention. He does not pinch her, or pat her like a dog, and there is something loving about him. "Would you like to come home with me?" asks a voice, warm and welcoming, full of secrets that he would happily give her. She nods her tiny head, smiling gleefully at him, feeling the fear of the forest recede, memories of those she had run from fading. He wraps his arms around her, kissing her forehead, and she laughs softly, feeling at home at last. He carries her from the clearing as she snuggles into his grip, her heart at peace.

Chapter 23

The darkness ebbed slowly, and Tayla became aware of strong arms around her. She opened her eyes, and saw that she was cradled in the arms of the vampire. His chest was soft beneath her cheek, and he was twirling a ringlet of her hair around one finger.

_I should be scared of him_ , she thought slowly, pulling herself tighter against his strong body. _I should run screaming from his arms, should leave this house. I should pull away from his embrace, should demand he never touch me again._ She shifted her head, meeting his onyx gaze, and Tayla smiled softly. _But I do not want to. I want to stay in his arms like this._

Rikter smiled softly at her, leaning in to place a kiss on her forehead. The girl blushed, feelings of love and relief brushing her awareness. Tayla's fingers traced the edge of his chest, and her weariness seemed a distant thing compared to the contentment in her heart.

"I have food here, if you're hungry," Rikter said softly, stroking her back. She wore a thick robe, warm and soft, and his touch felt fabulous through it. "I know most of my lovers are hungry when they wake." Her stomach rumbled loudly, and he laughed, moving from beneath her.

The princess lounged amidst the pillows, her limbs heavy, and she watched him fetch a covered tray. He left the curtains of his bed open, allowing buttery lamp light to surround them. Tayla struggled to sit up as he settled back on the bed. He smiled at her as she moved, reaching out to help her. The princess allowed him to pull her against his side once more, settling the tray beside her.

"I'm surprised you're not still angry with me," he said, stroking her hair. Tayla blushed, hiding her reaction by lifting the tray. Her eyes widened at the array of bacon, eggs, delicate filets of steak, and heavily buttered toast. The princess crammed a piece of toast into her mouth, thinking. Wiping crumbs from her lips, she finally spoke.

"I cannot explain it. I know I should be angry with you, and should be trying to escape..." She let her voice trail off, staring deep into his eyes, remembering the piercing pain of his fangs. Tayla smiled, recalling also the heavy waves of ecstasy he had brought her. "I cannot explain it, but I have always been drawn to you. I have always felt safe in your arms." She lowered her gaze. "It was always been you in my dreams. I realize that now."

He ran his fingers through her hair, pulling her gaze back up to his. She watched as he leaned closer, then her nerves all sang happily as his lips pressed to hers. The kiss started tentatively, and quickly grew in strength as her hand grasped the back of his neck. She was breathless as she kissed him back, pressing herself against him, letting his tongue dart past her lips. He devoured her with the kiss, and she wanted it.

He pulled back slightly, his lips lingering, his hand gently cradling her head, and she giggled softly, feeling giddy. He frowned. "I don't normally get that kind of reaction." His voice sounded almost hurt.

She looked up swiftly, and saw the humor in his eyes. A smile broadened across her lips, and she kissed him, a quick peck. "I just feel absolutely happy right now. I cannot explain it." She shrugged, trailing fingers across his cheeks. "I cannot explain anything right now."

He kissed her forehead, gesturing to the food. "Eat. Restore your strength, and let me speak." His words hung heavily in the air, and she frowned at him, but followed his orders. His concern wrapped around her like a warm blanket, keeping her spirits up, and Rikter even helped her eat. As she lifted a dainty bite of egg to her mouth, he shifted her hair away from her neck, his fingers tracing the edge of the bite mark. She shivered, a flare of pain traveling through her body.

"Do you know how much it hurt me when you called me a monster last night? Do you know how much it hurt me when I saw you lying there, limp and broken? I hadn't meant to bring you harm. You are my little rose, and I do love you."

"Is that why you are taking care of me now?" His eyes locked with hers, and she could see whole new depths in him. Like a wall coming down, she could see his soul behind those inky orbs. "Just because I am your rose?"

He nodded slowly. "It is. I also take care of you because a princess needs to be pampered from time to time."

She frowned, setting her fork down. "How _did_ you know who I was? Father never let me out, never let any of his daughters be seen, and my name is not so very uncommon. What gave it away?"

Rikter sighed, drawing her against him, resting her head against his shoulder. She felt warm, and her nerves tingled, and she welcomed his hold on her. His hands moved through her hair, stroking her, keeping her close. The more he held her, the more his love sank through her senses. Time stretched on as he held her, and she lounged against him. Just as she was dozing off, he began speaking in a soft voice.

"I travel often, looking for anything new I can use. I had heard tales of this king in the north who was consolidating the lands around him, including the trade routes. He was also opening trade to the south, so that the goods of the far north were finally available. I was curious, and I went to his lands. When I arrived, he was having a great feast to celebrate his eldest daughter coming of age.

"I used some of my skills to secure an invitation, and I was working the crowd, finding out who was who, and, in general, having a good time. I hadn't met the king or queen yet, but I'd seen them with their spoiled little girl. He was overbearing, and clearly a warrior going to pot. She was bored and fastidious, and too good to be part of the general festivities. The daughter was a spoiled brat, and she was taking advantage of her new status. Yet suitors were already lining up, all vying for attention.

"I was talking with a particularly handsome noble lady, bored of the company, since no one wanted to talk business. I didn't even want to force anyone to my will, and I was preparing to make my exit when the woman I was talking with invited me into the gardens. She said the king had built them for her and her sister, and there were some very special places amongst them.

"Who was I to refuse a beautiful woman? We retreated to the gardens, and she made it clear what she wanted from me. So I gave her everything she wanted, and more. Sated, I was prepared to leave, and just as I was leaving, I saw the tiniest little green eyes staring at me from the bushes."

Tayla's blood chilled as he continued speaking, kissing the top of her head. "I went to the eyes, and found this little girl, no more than four, crouched on the ground, wearing a tattered dressing gown, her hair a mess, scratched and crying. She hid behind her toy rabbit, as if that could stop me, and yet she never took her eyes off me. I coaxed her from the bushes, and she stood before me, and she was crying, but she didn't seem that scared of me.

"I took her to another little nook in the gardens, the noblewoman passed out where I had left her, and I picked this little girl up. She sat on my knee, holding her rabbit, and I asked her what was wrong. She told me she didn't like the party, that the people were keeping her awake, and that she was scared of most of them. For a child, she was rather articulate. I smiled at her, and tried to straighten out some of her tangles, and I asked her if she was scared of me. She shook her little head, and said she would never be scared of me. Then she threw herself into my arms."

Tayla sat up, and Rikter allowed it. She felt heat in her cheeks, and her heart was racing. His eyes locked with hers as he continued his story. "I held her, and she was so feather light in my grip, and I couldn't believe there really was a girl in my arms. She asked me to make everyone leave, to make them stop scaring her. I kissed her plump little cheek, and I asked her if she really wanted me to protect her. She nodded solemnly, then kissed me." His fingers rose to her mouth, and Tayla kissed them gently, unable to take her gaze from him.

"I hadn't thought of her as anything but a little kid, but when she kissed me, I realized she would one day grow up to be a woman. I held still, my heart warring with my mind, and she buried herself against me again. This time, her little lips found my neck, right where my lover had sunk her teeth in her passion, and I nearly dropped her when she kissed me there. She didn't notice, kneeling in my lap, and kissed my neck again. She offered me a great boon if I would just take her away from her sister's party."

Tayla trembled, and Rikter leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. His hands were tender in her hair, and she closed her eyes as his breath washed over her. "I knew then who this tiny little girl was. I held her close, and I cried. I wanted her so badly, this brave yet shy little thing. But I certainly couldn't snatch her away from the castle. It broke my heart to think I'd need to leave her there.

"So I pushed her away from my neck, and I gave her a little kiss. She looked like she was going to cry, and I kissed her eyes. I promised her I would take her away from all of this, but that I would have to wait. I told her it would be a game, and she seemed to accept that.

"Those gorgeous green eyes of hers seemed to shine in the moonlight, and she watched me as I opened the neck of my shirt. I quickly scratched my neck, and pressed her towards the wound. Her little mouth was so greedy as she drank, and I wrapped my arms tight around her. I held her close, and I let her drink all that she wanted, and I told her this would be our bond.

"When she stopped, I kissed the blood from her face, and she giggled at me, and she kept trying to go back to my neck. She was my darling little cherub, and that gorgeous peal of sound made my heart soar. She kissed me again, calling me her guardian, and she told me she would wait for me.

"She was nearly asleep when I brought her back to the party. We stood just outside the lights, away from the guests still, and she wrapped her arms around me again. She shook, and begged me to take her away right then." Tayla raised a hand to his cheek, cupping it, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "I promised her I would always know where she was, and when it was time, I would rescue her. I was near to tears myself as I kissed hers away. Watching her walk away was the hardest thing I have ever done. I wanted to snatch her back into my arms, take her home with me, and be damned to it all."

Tayla kissed him suddenly, her heart in her throat, and felt him stiffen with surprise, then quickly melt against her. His hands gripped her, and she pulled at his hair, trying to express the roiling emotions in her soul. "Why did you not stay with me?" she asked breathlessly. "You could have been part of the court, and you could have been with me. I would not have forgotten about you then." She kissed him again, hard and swift. "You would have been more than just a dream to me."

Rikter was panting softly as he stroked her face, his fingers trailing along the edge of her robe. Tayla shivered, goose pimples racing along her skin, and moved closer to him. "I've asked myself that so many times over the years. The only thing I can think of is that it would have been too painful to see you and not be able to touch you." He lifted his head, and their eyes locked. "Just reading about you from my man's reports were enough to wrench my heart."

"Your man?" she asked, her fingers running down his bare chest. She watched him shiver, biting his lip, and ran her other hand down his lithe arm.

"I installed a loyal man as a guard, someone who could watch over you, and let me know what was going on. I meant it when I promised you I would rescue you from that court." He grinned, fangs touching his lower lip, and she felt a surge of passion from him. "When I found out your father was sending you on some clandestine little journey, I felt like he was delivering you on a silver platter. I have never worked so quickly as I did then, to make sure I would be there to rescue you." He lowered his eyes, his hands shifting to grip her hips "I never expected that you wouldn't remember me."

She let him draw her onto his lap, heat flaring in her cheeks as she straddled his legs. Tayla trembled, trying to pull the robe closed, feeling her loins begin to burn. Her voice quavered as she spoke. "If you thought I would remember you, why did you bring those brigands?"

He looked at her, shifting, his hips lifting to grind against her. Tayla's eyes widened as she felt his excitement, and she tried to pull away. His fingers tightened on her hips, his blazing eyes trapping her in place. "They were there to cover our escape. You were supposed to remember me, and come with me willingly, and you were supposed to love me." One of his hands moved to the tie of her robe, and Tayla swallowed hard, a trace of fear lining the desire welling low in her body. She watched his lips flush with his hunger, and she began to tremble.

He finished with the tie, and slowly pushed her robe apart, his fingers gentle across her stomach. His eyes held her captive, and she bit her lip as she was exposed to him. Her trembling increased as his hands moved up her breasts, fingers brushing her nipples, making her whimper once. He sat up as his hands slid the robe from her shoulders, claiming a kiss from her. She melted against him, reacting to the kiss instantly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Rikter kissed her harder, his lips hungry, his hands raking down her back. She arched, grinding her hips against him, his groin pressing hard against her.

His desire flared through her, and she cried out, breaking the kiss. She scratched at his shoulders, trying to tear his flesh, his frustration blending with hers, leaving the girl aching and desperate. He hissed as her mouth found his neck, and she nipped his skin. His arms encircled her back, and he pressed his neck to her, tipping his head. She bit harder, his hunger egging her on, and he trembled.

Tayla broke her bite as his hand worked between them. She watched hungrily as he drew a nail across his neck, his breath heavy, and blood welled from the scratch. His other hand guided her head back to his neck, and she latched on. He groaned loudly, trembling, and she gripped him harder.

His blood seared her tongue, and her nails dug into his shoulders, breaking the skin. Her teeth pressed harder into his neck, forcing the wound open, and she sucked at it. Her nerves were zinging, shuddering as she swallowed. It tasted warm and metallic, and she wanted more of it. She felt herself growl under her breath, and Rikter moaned lowly.

He was moving, lifting her hips, and she rose onto her knees. She kept her mouth locked to his neck, unable to open her eyes, drinking deep of the thick fluid that flowed past her lips. Rikter grabbed her around the shoulders, keeping her teeth at his neck, and spun her to her back. She clasped at his shoulders, welcoming his weight as he pressed her thighs apart. Her heart raced, and her entire body became a pulsing bed of nerves.

He pulled her from the kiss by her hair, and she cried out. Rikter's mouth descended to hers, lapping at the blood, and she ached as she felt his bare manhood pressing against her sex. She lifted her legs, wrapping them around his hips, and kissed him hungrily. He took it as his invitation, and sheathed himself inside her warm flesh.

She cried out, an arc of pain thundering through her, then she felt his kiss again. He sucked her lip, then broke it to move to her neck. His hips weighed her down, and she twitched, feeling him fill her completely. She opened her mind and being to him, and he groaned as her sensations washed across him. Breathing deeply, his mouth found her neck, tonguing the bite mark, and the vampire began making love to her.

They moved as one, kissing and nipping and biting, the princess moaning as Rikter showed her his years of skills. Tayla breathed heavily, her body clenching as her pleasure built. The vampire held her, pushing her limits, stroking her, and she began shuddering, clinging to his shoulders, her voice reaching new pitches. She bit his shoulder, her breath shallow, and then rapture crashed over her as she climaxed. Rikter groaned with her, his mouth moving against her neck, fangs digging at her previous wounds, and she cried out sharply.

She lost track of her body at that moment, feeling nothing more than soaring heights of pleasure. She tasted blood as Rikter kissed her, and she felt sweat slick on her skin, and she trembled with his attentions. Rikter kept working her to new heights, barely keeping control of himself as her pleasures shivered through his nerves. The princess could feel his ecstasy, could feel the ache in him as he worshiped her.

He held her from behind, cupping her breasts, licking her neck as his climax built. Tayla shivered, pressing back against him, grabbing the back of his head. He moaned as she drew him to her neck, rocking her hips with him, milking his manhood. His hands trembled, and she moaned with each stroke as he worked to his finish. She let loose a sharp cry as the first waves of orgasm stirred in her loins, and then he was gripping her painfully, shuddering as his pleasure rocked his body. Her hand clenched on his head, and he bit into her neck.

His cry was muffled, but her voice rang out loud enough for him. Her limbs went numb, and she collapsed against him, her head lolling to the side. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding her close, his hips grinding against her groin. He swallowed deep, shivering, drawing on her, his heart thudding against her back.

She must have blacked out, because suddenly Tayla was cradled close against Rikter, beneath a silk sheet, their bodies shaking. She was still breathing hard, though her heart as slowing. The princess tipped her head, and looked deeply into his onyx eyes.

He traced the line of her jaw, and leaned close for a small kiss. She licked the blood taste from his lips, then rested her head back on his shoulder. He gripped her hand, and his love pulsed with each beat of his heart.

"I love you," she whispered. "I think I have always loved you." Rikter kissed her deeply, and she felt his response, his heart in every movement. As they parted, she suddenly burst into tears.

Rikter stiffened, touching her face, frowning as he spoke. "What is it? My rose, what's wrong?"

She buried her face against his chest, letting him wrap her in a tight hug. "My father is looking for me. He may very well find me, and then he will kill you, and I will be lost again."

Rikter rocked her, stroking her hair, kissing her head. "My sweet rose, don't worry. Please trust me."

"How are you going to stop him?" she asked, still crying, wrapping her arm around his chest.

He shifted in the pillows, creating a nest of comfort, pulling the sheet up to her chin. His kisses were warm and tender, and he tasted her tears as he licked them away. "I had plans in place about how I would keep you. When my men moved on from the attack site, they left two bodies floating in the river, dressed like you and Meghan. Anyone who would find them would assume it was you two. We actually worked to find girls who looked close enough." She looked at him, and he smiled reassuringly. "Plus there is the misdirection Starbeth laid when she met those searchers. When she left, she went with chests and chests of my money and goods to bribe the surrounding barons to help shield us from the searchers. No one will have seen girls, and the slave markets certainly never saw you. The bandits will have all disappeared into the woodwork, and no missing princesses anywhere." He kissed her softly.

The kiss deepened for a moment, then he whispered to her, holding her close. "And even if he makes his way here, I will take you somewhere else. I will run to the ends of the world with you to keep his hands off you. You belong to me now, little rose, and I will fight for you. You are never leaving me again." Tayla smiled, kissing his chest, her heart content for the first time in her life.

Author's Note

Thank you for finishing this book. It was my first foray into romance, way back in 2005. It sat around my hard drive this entire time while I decided whether to rewrite it or scrap it. I finally decided that I liked it too much to redo the whole manuscript, so I'm publishing it as-is. Bad dialogue, cheesey bodice ripping, and Stockholm Syndrome.

I've clearly gotten better with my storytelling, but this novel has always had a bit of a soft spot in my heart. From the first time I dreamt of Rikter, I've wanted to share this romp with people. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

Raven

raven.youareannoying.us
