Page 61 of Time's Fool

“Then why can’t I do this?”

“I don’t know.” He smiled slightly against her hair. “Perhaps I smell of dragon breath.”

That surprised a laugh out of her. “You don’t!”

“I think my lady doth protest too much.”

“You don’t,” she repeated, and then paused and sniffed slightly. “Well, maybe a little.” And then she laughed again, shakily. “I’m mad.”

“You’re hurt,” he argued. “You had to be strong for a very long time, as there was no one else. Strong for yourself, for your daughter, for your people. And now, perhaps it is frightening, to make yourself vulnerable again.”

“I trust you.” She looked up at him. “You should know that. Even with the Senate—”

“The Senate has nothing to do with us.”

“Doesn’t it?” she closed her eyes and let her face sag against his chest. “I don’t know that I care anymore, why you’re here. I’m just glad that you are.”

“I am here for you,” he said roughly, his grip tightening. “If my Lady should ask me to do anything to harm you—”

“Is that likely?” Gillian asked, looking up in alarm.

“No,” he reassured her, wishing that he had phrased that differently. “You are valuable to her. You provide a counterweight to the Circle. She does not want them to lose this war of theirs, but she does not want them to become too powerful after winning it, either. Not enough to rival us.”

“No more do I,” she said fervently. “A world run by the Silver Circle is not one I wish to live in.”

“You won’t. The Senate will always be there to balance things, as I will always be there for you.”

Gillian looked at him with an odd expression. “Even if your Lady wishes it otherwise?”

“She will not—”

“But if she does?”

It was said with a certain intensity, as if this was something important, something that had preyed upon her mind. They should have talked about this before, he thought, but he was still learning about the vampire world himself. He hadn’t thought that she would understand it, at least not well enough to worry about whether he was with her for the wrong reasons.

But he should have. His lady was no fool. And Kit needed to be very clear here, or he might well lose her.

“I am a master,” he said simply. “It may have been accomplished in an unorthodox way, and I might not have all the trappings of wealth and family that I should at this rank. But master I am, nonetheless. And like any master, I choose whether or not to serve. I can emancipate myself from her control if need be.”

Gillian looked shocked at that, as if she had thought that all vampires were little more than slaves. And she wasn’t wrong about many of them. But Kit was no man’s slave, nor woman’s, either.

Something in his face must have communicated that, because he saw a small smile break out.

And then he had an armful again, as she tried to kiss him, but Kit pulled back in alarm. “What is this?”

“You’ve been patient,” she said breathlessly. “I know. And I’ve been patient with myself. And yet nothing changes. Perhaps it never will, unless we force it—”

“We are forcing nothing! When you’re ready—”

“I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready!” the gray eyes flashed. “I don’t know how to be ready, to let go of him. He haunts me, and I know he would hate that, hate my living like this! And so, I hate myself. And yet, I can’t seem to let go.”

“Then perhaps . . . don’t try,” Kit said, wondering if he was mad to try to talk her out of this. But she mattered, and he found himself shocked all over again that he cared more for her wellbeing than for his own pleasure. Or, at least his brain did.

His body had other ideas, but he ruthlessly quashed them.

“Perhaps what you need is to remember,” he added.

“Remember what?”

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