Page 22 of Vampire's Choice

She directed that question to Marcellus before she could remind herself they hadn’t confirmed she had the job. Ruth bit her lip. “My apologies, my lord.”

Though he still looked as serious as a gravedigger who needed a drink, she thought she saw his lips twitch. “Later today, we will go over your responsibilities and you will meet your charge.”

He turned away, walked two steps, stopped. Spoke over his shoulder. “You will spar with me, Merc, Yvette and others I deem suitable here to elevate your skills. Daily.”

His way of telling her she’d shown she could maybe do the job. Only time would prove if that was true.

He strode off toward Merc, who was perched on one of the wooden posts marking the corners of their sparring area. His bare feet overlapped the edge, his excellent ass resting on his heels. His wings were spread at quarter mast to hold the position, the layered feathers trailing his arms, drawing eyes to biceps, thigh and calf muscles.

While he appeared to be watching the acrobats who’d resumed their practice, whenever her gaze shifted to him, his eyes would land on hers after only a couple heartbeats, as if he was perpetually aware of her regard.

None of the Circus members had spoken to him as they dispersed. No “good fight, good job” kind of thing. Not even a “Hey, Merc, now that you’re not busy, give me a hand with this,” though it was obvious everyone here had more than enough to do. Just like on their island, she expected all staff members pitched in and helped if they finished their own tasks more quickly.

But she also noticed how his attention stayed on the acrobats. When one of the more complicated throws didn’t go as planned, all those muscles tightened. But he didn’t move, his eyes tracking the woman who landed heavily on the ground. She was all right, rolling out of it, but him letting her fall while seeming like he’d wanted to intercept, was curious to Ruth.

Yvette had been watching Marcellus depart. “Angels aren’t big talkers,” she noted. “But that was decent praise. Your father didn’t oversell your skills, but I wouldn’t have expected otherwise from Mal.”

“Is there more to this, my lady?” Ruth heard the ice in the pack click as she adjusted her arm.

Yvette lifted a questioning brow. A reminder that Ruth could ask questions of a vampire more powerful than herself, but she’d best tread carefully, and with respect.

“I’m honored to be given a chance to help, but to do the job effectively, I should know what the threat is. Lady Lyssa’s involvement, and an angel… Even if the woman is his, it doesn’t explain why her wellbeing warrants this much interest.”

“Appropriate questions.” Yvette nodded. “They’ll be answered. For now, go to the food tent for some blood. It’s safe-sourced, from vetted and willing staff members. The cooks are excellent, so enjoy sampling the food as well. I’ve arranged to have a guide show you around, and deliver you to your quarters afterward.”

Charlie had picked up her first aid kit and slipped away, Ruth assumed to alert that guide to join them.

“You’ll share sleeping quarters with our security team members who are single,” Yvette continued. “It’s best for you to stay closely coordinated with one another. You work in shifts, so you’ll have time off, and there are plenty of places at our in-between campsites to get time to yourself.”

“Of course, my lady.”

“Good. I’ll take a swallow of your blood now. From here forward, I’m your overlord. You understand what that means?”

She did. It wasn’t a minor thing. The sampling of blood by an overlord or Region Master confirmed a vampire’s loyalties. It also allowed them to locate Ruth if needed, or sense if she was in fatal distress.

Up until now, Ruth’s mind had been more occupied with getting the job than the consequences of doing so. She reminded herself that Yvette couldn’t be in her mind; not unless during the sampling she injected the serum from her fangs that would make that possible.

Doing that to another vampire, without their knowledge or permission, was forbidden by Council. Technically. A Region Master or overlord had a certain amount of discretion to increase the binding on their territory’s vampires if they felt a vampire required the additional layers to keep him or her in line.

In short, allowing a vampire to take one’s blood was an act of trust and loyalty that often preceded the earning of either of those things. But Lady Lyssa supported Lady Yvette, and supported Ruth being here. And her father had suggested she come to the Circus.

That was enough to mostly overcome her trepidation about anyone illegitimately gaining access to everything in her head. Blood family members were born with the ability, which was why she, Adan and her father could talk to one another the way they did. Her mother as well. Despite being a human servant, not vampire, the parental blood link allowed it.

“Your wrist,” Yvette said.

Observing the protocols, Ruth dropped to a knee and extended her arm. Even with him fifty yards away, she was aware of an abrupt sharpening of Merc’s attention.

So was Yvette, because her golden gaze slid that way, touched Merc. Her lips tightened before her attention returned to Ruth.

“Be careful of him.” She clasped Ruth’s forearm. “You show no fear of him, and he finds that far too intriguing.”

“Is he used to women being afraid of him?”

“Yes. Any woman, of any race, would be a fool not to be. He’s not safe, Ruth. Handsome, arousing, interesting, yes. But not safe.”

“He was in control,” Ruth said thoughtfully. “No matter what it looked like.”

Seeing Yvette’s look, one an older vampire would give a naive fledgling, Ruth knew she should work harder on not blurting out everything in her head. One of the dangers of growing up in the comfort zone of the island. But now that she’d committed herself, she explained.

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