Page 17 of Gates of Rapture
He looked around then back down at the sheet.There was blood near the head of the mattress.He’d savaged Grace’s neck.That much he could remember.
He shuddered, remembering with pleasure the taste of her blood and the fire it put in his stomach.Her blood had given him stamina, and he had lasted long enough to bring her repeatedly.That she had thoroughly enjoyed herself was clear to him, so he wasn’t too worried.
On the other hand, she’d left the basement.
He put a hand to his forehead.He had no idea how long he’d been out.
The light at the small window had dulled some.The day must have advanced.
More than anything, he wanted a shower.But before he left his basement prison, he sent a telepathic thread in multiple directions, hunting:Grace, are you there?
A moment later, her soft melodic voice returned within his mind.I’m walking in the forest.Don’t worry.I’m within the confines of the mist.Had she sensed how tense he was?Or did she just know intuitively that he would worry?
She added,I just let Marguerite and Fiona know that I’m back.
We should talk.
I know.There’s a lot of ground to cover.I’m going to swim in the hot spring at the rise above your cabin.Come to me when you’re ready.
For a moment, he grew so still he wasn’t sure he was even breathing.One of the reasons he had built the cabin in this location was because of the spring.He’d carved out a small bathing area, enough for him to relax in if not to swim laps.He often soaked there trying to forget his misdeeds, God help him.
But Grace was there now.
Naked.
Leto?
Yes?
Are you all right?
Was he all right?Dammit, he could barely breathe or think.Thebreh-heddenhad done this to him, rendered him insensible.
I’m fine.
I’ll wait for you here.
Good.Good.He nodded, even though she couldn’t see him.He felt that she was no longer there, no longer connected telepathically.It was something that he could communicate with her at a distance, but then he was a vampire of power and she was the blue variety of obsidian flame.
His heart sank.What the hell was he supposed to do with all of this?
He lifted his arm, an unconscious gesture, and folded straight to his bathroom two stories up.The cabin had two floors and a basement.The upper floor consisted of a small study, a large bathroom, and a bedroom.He was a big man and he needed room.
Sometimes at night he would pace the length of the upper floor, from window to window, a distance of fifty feet.The bedroom had a fireplace.When he wasn’t pacing, he sat in the nearby large leather chair and stared at the burning logs, at the flames rising, at the latent power of the wood being released in the form of heat.
He tried to spend part of each day chopping wood just to rid himself of some of the deep, unrelenting tension he felt.
With a thought, he turned on the shower.He looked into the mirror.Christ, he had Grace’s blood spread over his lower face, his neck, his chest.
He feared going lower, examining more of his body, afraid of what he’d find.
But he had to know.
He glanced at his cock then drew in a deep shuddering breath.Oh, thank God.He had feared he would find blood, that in his beast-like state he would have hurt her, that he would have made her bleed.But he hadn’t, thank you, Creator.
He turned and moved into the shower, the broad circular head slamming pinpricks of water against his hair and scalp.It felt so good.He wanted to get clean, to be cleansed of all that worried him, troubled him, and guilted him up.He took his time, using a loofah and shower gel.In his ritualistic way, he began at his forehead and scrubbed carefully down his body, one limb at a time, until even his toes were burnished.
He washed his long hair and used a healthy amount of crème rinse after, the only thing that kept his mass of hair in order.He had once told Greaves that his long hair would be a constant reminder to Endelle that Greaves had succeeded in turning a Warrior of the Blood to his cause.
