Page 87 of Beyond the Ruby River
He ducked below the water’s surface to avoid her amused glare. When he arose, she sat on the edge of the bed, still looking. Incubi might be totally unphased by nudity, but Mahu wasn’t.
“What do you want?” he sputtered.
“Right now? Seeing you uncomfortable is surprisingly fulfilling.” Niya plucked an item from the pile she’d brought in. A shirt. “I brought clothes that should fit you. That’s all. But while I’m here, what are your intentions with my brother?”
Mahu tucked his knees to his chest. He wished she’d leave so he could enjoy a proper bath. “To speak with him. To apologize. To ask of his life and desires.”
Her glare didn’t waiver. “Your friend’s cute.”
“Leave her be,” Mahu snapped.
Sachi could handle herself, but Mahu hadn’t brought her here to be harassed by vengeful sex demons.
Niya tutted and rose from the bed. Thankfully she headed for the door, not the tub. “Sachi is safe with me. She can stay here if she likes, while you and my brother have your mushy reunion. I won’t touch a hair on her head unless she wants me to, but Mahu?”
Arching his brows, Mahu waited.
“Don’t you dare hurt Daka again or I just might have to treat myself to a new pair of earrings.”
Mahu ran his tongue along his fangs as the door clicked shut behind her.
25
Daka
The river had flooded the flatlands nearly to the foundation of Daka’s little farmhouse. Living next to the Nile, he’d learned her habits. The ebb and flow of flood season, the dry spell in between. When the current would be swift, and when it was reduced to a sluggish, lazy flow. He loved the sound of the water as he fell asleep.
Alone on his soft bed of down and linen—for Daka never brought his food sources home, rather he preferred to travel to them—he gazed up at the starry night sky. Somewhere under these same stars, Mahu undertook the journey back to Egypt. Daka had to believe he was on his way. Mahu wouldn’t have lied to him. He’d said he would come, and now Daka had only to wait.
With a sigh, he touched his own bare chest, ran his palm over the smooth skin of his abdomen, dipped a fingertip into his belly button, and slid lower to grasp his cock. Though he’d fed recently, he hadn’t come. So he closed his eyes and indulged in memories of Mahu while he stroked. A quick release would help him sleep. At least that’s what Daka told himself.
What would really help him sleep would be to curl against Mahu’s side and wrap his tail around the man’s ankle like he used to. Daka had spent many a night battling the soul-deep longing for those nights of his ancient past. Warm memories of shared meals, fresh papyrus, and hours of slow lovemaking.
Could they have that back? Was that what Daka wanted?
His thoughts were conflicted. Yes, he wanted Mahu, surely, but his broken heart had never mended. The jagged edges, when prodded, still flared with hurt, and the dull ache of unfulfilled need never faded away.
Shoving melancholy aside, Daka focused instead on the more appealing memories. Mahu’s sexy smile, his broad shoulders and strong biceps. The way his hard cock felt when it thrust into Daka’s willing body. Ah, much better.
Daka sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he pumped his fist quick and hard. Images of Mahu flashed behind his eyelids. Daka could almost feel him there, the memories were so vivid. The energy swirling as Mahu neared climax, Daka’s anticipation of being fed, the blissful, intoxicated haze that would envelope them both as Mahu spilled his seed and ardor at once.
Daka’s balls drew tight to his body, thrumming with unspent seed. So close. He tightened his grip, threw back his head and breathed Mahu’s name from parted lips. Almost there.
A knock at the door startled him, stealing away the edge of orgasm and replacing it with alarm. His hand froze. He held his breath to listen.
The gentle rapping came again. Definitely someone at his door, but who would arrive at this hour? Hardly anyone but his family and his immediate neighbors knew where he lived. Could one of the farmers need help?
Daka rose from the bed and dressed quickly, tucking his hard length down one side of his trousers and hoping it wasn’t noticeable. If he could have willed himself soft, he’d have done it.
He crept to the door, but before opening it, he concentrated on listening. One person, their breaths steady, but rapid. But something was missing.
Daka gasped.
No heartbeat.
A vampire stood at his door. He knew several, but could it be? Daka’s heart seized, his chest clenched, and his throat constricted all at once. Hope bloomed bright but so did reticence. No matter how many times he’d imagined this moment, Daka would never truly be ready for it.
He gripped the doorknob, knuckles white. The door creaked on its hinges.
