25
THE glen was a fairy world, the tree branches and leaf tips touched with a silver gleam, the deep creek emitting the occasional diamond flash when the moon caught sight of it through the canopy. They’d made camp there, knowing they couldn’t stay all night, because Evan would need a more sheltered place in daylight, but they had an isolated cottage with a root cellar they could reach in an hour. Which was good, because by then, Niall would need that cellar as well.
The landscape had changed considerably from three hundred years ago, but it was still a beautiful glen, an out-of-the-way spot. Alanna stood at the edge of the water, letting it lap at her bare toes, breathing in the air. She had her arms wrapped around herself, a relaxed embrace that allowed her to lay her hand discreetly over the third mark she now bore in place of Stephen’s over her hip bone. The hated dagger had vanished when the link was broken, and, increasing her joy, Evan’s third mark had seated itself in the same spot.
She hadn’t been quite sure of its significance, a mark shaped like a tree, the branches almost elegant in the way they spread across her skin, the longest branch touching the curve of her breast. Lord Brian said he’d never seen one so elaborate. So artistic.
Evan had taken a look at it and smiled, his eyes warming on her. “It’s a tree of life, Alanna. Very fitting for your having a Jewish Master.”
Would Niall miss his third mark when it was gone? Would it be gone?
He’s nervous, Alanna.
She came back to the present at Evan’s voice in her head. Turning, she studied Niall. He was sitting on a nearby rock, his eyes closed. Evan was on the opposite bank, sketching, waiting patiently, or perhaps not so patiently, but covering it well. Nodding to acknowledge Evan’s comment, she moved toward the Scot. Coming up on the rock, she knelt behind him, sliding her arms over his chest. Since Evan had marked her fully again, her hair had begun to grow rapidly, so she now had a fine layer of down that Niall likened to a newborn bird’s. He reached back, rumpled it now.
“I’ve seen a human go through the process of becoming a vampire,” she said.
“Aye? Did he drool and try to drain anything with blood that came near him? No dog or wean safe?”
“No.” She pressed a smile against his neck. “When the sire is with the fledgling, the bloodlust is managed with daily doses of the sire’s blood. He does have to stay pretty close to the sire through the transition period, because fluctuations of temper or other factors can make him dangerous, but we have that all planned out, remember? Lord Daegan told us about that place in Ireland, the abandoned monastery with the catacombs. He owns the property, so we can be there for a while. Evan can draw all sorts of dusty bones and pale skulls.”
“Aye.”
She slid under his arm, into his lap. “I’m glad you decided to do it here. To come back to Scotland after all this time. Maybe sometime we can come back for a longer visit.”
“Maybe.” He lifted a shoulder.” ’Tis enough to come here for this. The air is still filled with memories, muirnín. The voices get too loud at times.”
She nodded, understanding. “Are you ready? Master will wait as long as you need, but it’s been hard on him these few weeks, afraid of what might happen.”
“I wanted ye strong again, muirnín, so you could travel, be with us. We both wanted that. ’Tis not right, otherwise.”
“You’re both too stubborn,” she chided gently. “Is it still what you want to do?”
“I’m not sure anyone’s ever ready for something like this. Like going into battle. You just charge and hope for the best.” He looked down at her then, and she was relieved to see it in his eyes. “Yes, muirnín. My wame’s just got that feeling . . . when ye step across a line and ken there’ll be no backing up.”
“Do you want me to leave you alone, give you more time to think about it?”
“No. I like ye fine right here.”
You’re not a young man, Niall. Think about it much longer and Fate will take you right on that rock.
Alanna giggled as Niall gave her a mock frown. “Nag, nag, nag. He’s like an old woman nippin’ over there. He’s just crabbit because we’re holding up his schedule in Nairobi.”
“Well, as valuable as you are to me, the scenery in the Ngong changes a great deal in the dry season. I’m not sure you’re worth missing that.”
Evan rose, setting aside his sketchpad. Leaping easily to the other side of the creek that bifurcated the glen, he came to stand before the two of them.
“I’ll see you through, Niall. I promise.”
The Scot rose, clasping his forearm so that they were toe to toe. “I trust you, Evan. In all things.”
A muscle flexed in the vampire’s jaw, his emotional reaction to that schooled to a quick nod, but Alanna caught it. She loved watching it, the small, subtle nuances of male communication that had become far more intimate and easy between them since the decision had been made. “What may I do, Master . . . s?” She drew out the s deliberately, inciting amusement in them both.
“He’ll need human blood immediately, Alanna. As a third mark, you can handle the first attack of blood hunger, but it can be savage. Your strength has returned, but offer your wrist, instead of your throat.”
“My thigh would be better, Master. It’s a better distraction, changing his hunger to something else.”
Niall raised a brow. “Ye said ye watched it. That sounds like ye participated.”
“Stephen turned at least two sanctioned humans during my time in his household. I helped feed both of them. Blood and sexual hunger are close during the transition. One helps to balance the other.”
“Maybe the lass should take the lead,” Niall said, deadpan. “Given she’s the most experienced of the three of us in this.”
“Nonsense,” Evan said. “Alanna has the ‘Turning a Vampire for Dummies’ manual on standby for me.”
He ducked Niall’s punch with a grin, but caught the man by the nape, held him still. “All right, then,” he said. “Let’s do this.”
At Niall’s quick nod, he turned, and the Scot followed, the two of them going to the large flat rock along the bank where Evan had taken him to the ground all those years ago. As Alanna watched, Evan sat against the rock, then gestured to Niall, directing him to lie back between his thighs, his head resting on Evan’s shoulder, long legs stretched out before him.
Yes, Niall was ready for this, but he was tense about it as well. She sank to her knees on Niall’s other side, her hand closing over his.
“Look at her, Niall,” Evan said. “Imagine what it will be like, her being yours for nearly three centuries.”
“And you,” the Scot said, putting his other large hand on Evan’s knee. “You’re both mine.”
“Spoken like a true vampire.” Evan met Alanna’s gaze. I expect he will handle himself well, yekirati, but animal instinct may take over. Remember, follow my lead.
Always, Master.
Lowering his head, he placed his lips on Niall’s throat, nuzzled. When he bit, it was gentle, not yet a full penetration. He made it an erotic tease, his hand wandering into the collar of Niall’s shirt, stroking his chest as Alanna unbuttoned the garment, both men shifting so it fell off his shoulders, crumpled between his body and Evan’s. Niall’s hand briefly covered Evan’s, caressing his fingers as Evan pressed against the chai mark. Then Niall lifted his knuckles to Alanna’s face, stroking. “I love you, muirnín.”
Her breath caught as Evan lifted his brilliant gaze to her, held it in a lock as he bit down fully. Niall stiffened, then made a conscious effort to relax, though his hand remained tight on hers as Evan began to drink.
With a non-servant human, a vampire would pierce the major artery, let it gush until the blood loss was mortal, but it was different with a servant. Lady Lyssa herself had instructed Evan on it, indicating that several quarts were sufficient. It left the third mark’s body in a receptive condition for the silver serum necessary for the turning. Once that was flowing through Niall’s veins, the transition would be completed by drinking a certain amount of the sire’s blood.
The alarm Evan had anticipated started to kick in as the vampire took more and more. Niall’s breath came faster, heart beating like a frantic bird’s. His hand constricted on hers painfully. She bore it, putting her other hand on his brow as Evan spoke in both their minds, soothing the man.
Easy, neshama. Everything’s fine and as it should be. Don’t fight me. You said you trust me. For once in your life, let surrender be part of that trust. Give your life to me.
I did. I do. As Niall gripped Evan’s thigh, holding on, Alanna felt the surge of emotion from her vampire master. The declaration was the male equivalent of what Niall had just told her. I love you.
For the vampire’s side of things, it was a lot to drink at once, but like the old wives’ lore about consuming the placenta of an afterbirth, there was an ancient wisdom that said ingesting all of a human’s blood in a turning would increase the bond between sire and fledgling. She knew Evan would embrace that. As he continued to swallow, she inched closer until her knees were pressed against Niall’s hip, both her hands on them, one on Niall’s chest over Evan’s, the other on Niall’s opposite shoulder. His arm came up around her, fingers digging into her back, a sudden convulsion.
The serum has gone in. In a moment, you’ll start to feel very different . . .
She knew the moment that Niall could smell her blood as a vampire could, for his eyes opened, and she saw the reddish tint.
“Almost, neshama. Almost.” Evan’s arm was now fully over his chest, holding him firmly. Move back for a moment, Alanna. You’re too close.
Of course. She knew that. She had to give Evan time to complete the final step. A fledgling that drank of human blood before the process was complete would get sick on whatever they gorged themselves on. She was embarrassed she’d forgotten, so intent on being near.
There’s no shame in forgetting yourself because of your love for him, Alanna.
Then Niall tried to surge up toward her, and Evan had no time to spare for reassuring thoughts. The vampire shifted their positions, tackling him, bearing him back down to the ground. As he straddled the male, keeping him pinned, she sensed the strain in it. Evan was trying to hold the big Scot down and make one of his own veins available to him. Sliding around them quickly, she pulled out her small knife, caught Evan’s sleeve and pulled it back, cutting the vein in his wrist.
Niall’s head whipped toward her hands of course, a growl in his throat, but the gush of Evan’s blood drew his eye. Evan got it to his mouth, and Niall drank, holding on to his wrist with both large hands. Evan stroked the side of his head. “There you go, neshama. Final step.” Get ready, Alanna.
She was. She waited until she knew Niall had swallowed enough, and then lay back on the ground behind them. She drew up her skirt, slid the panties down and off, getting them out of the way. Taking up the knife once more, she found the femoral, poised over it and waited.
Now.
She made the quick puncture as Evan deftly levered Niall up, directing his energy and hunger immediately to where she lay. Niall, his mind nothing more than blood hunger at the moment, was a fearsome sight, lunging toward her, but Evan caught him by the chest. Despite the difference in height and weight, Evan did have the strength, barely, to hold Niall from coming down on her too roughly. Because of his advantage as a third-mark servant, Niall was likely to have at least a hundred years’ worth of strength and speed out of the starting gate, but she saw no worries in Evan about that. For her own part, she expected she’d have the pleasure of seeing some intriguing wrestling matches between her two Masters.
Evan shoved Niall to his knees between her spread ones. “Here, Master,” she purred, sliding her fingers over her labia, teasing herself to wetness so the two aromas came together. “Everything you see is yours.”
The Scot’s hands clamped down on her legs, and she let out an anxious, yet exhilarated breath as he shoved her wider, put his mouth on her thigh. He bit into it, despite the cut already there, and she made a little cry at the size of his new fangs, thick and sharp.
Easy, neshama. She’s your servant. Do not harm her. Let her serve you.
Niall’s fingers flexed as he took the blood in large gulps. It would be a hefty amount, sure to make her light-headed, but she felt no fear. She gazed up at the night sky through the trees, heard the lap of the water and thought of how her two Masters had met here, so many centuries ago. She served them, and they cared for her. The moment was everything she could want.
Sliding her other hand down, she touched her p-ssy again, stroked it, arousing herself further. Even without being marked by him, she knew just when it started to penetrate Niall’s senses, the scent of her honey competing with the blood. She slid a finger inside herself, and then made a little noise of surprise and pleasure as Niall shifted, putting his mouth over her knuckles, her wet folds, his tongue sliding in to join her finger, stroking it and her cunt at the same time, likely bringing the flavor of her blood to mingle with her arousal.
Use your coagulants, Niall. Glands under your tongue. You need to stop her bleeding before you turn yourself to other pleasures.
Evan had to repeat it twice, but then Niall shifted, doing just that. When he came back to her cunt, he caught her wrist, drew her fingers from herself, licked them clean. Rising on his knees above her, the sight of him, aroused, powerful, fangs revealed, made her stop breathing. He would be a formidable vampire for certain, as much a bear among smaller predators as he was as a human male.
Do not build him up too much, yekirati. As his sire, I still have to keep some type of leash on him.
Evan’s mind-voice was amused, however, and she couldn’t help smiling. Niall guided her hand to the ground over her head. Obeying, she stretched both arms out there, surrendering herself to them utterly. Evan stood behind Niall, who was on his knees, and now the vampire pulled the Scot’s shirt all the way off his arms. When Evan knelt behind him, he slid his arm across Niall’s chest to hold and stroke. The chest hair was still there, but she knew by the following dawn it would be gone. She’d miss it, so she’d enjoy it now, once more. As Niall bent to taste her, Evan slid his hands to his hips and then lower, reaching beneath the kilt. She knew he’d gripped Niall’s cock when she saw him working it against the fabric in front.
He’s as big as I’ve ever felt him, Alanna. He’s going to give you a rough ride.
Oh, she hoped so. When Niall moved up her body, her hips were already arching up, wanting to take him. Niall impatiently tore off the kilt, Evan helping, and then he sheathed himself in her, slamming home hard enough to tear her, but she would heal.
Want to mark her now.
She heard it in Evan’s mind, as well as Evan’s response.
Soon, neshama. But not now. There’s control you need to learn, to protect her mind, her soul. So you don’t delve too deeply.
But she knew how to be an empty vessel so well. She’d survived Stephen’s assault on her soul. Surely she could handle the passionate demand and love of her new vampire Master. She feared nothing from these two particular Masters. They could never delve too deeply, because her soul was all theirs.
Though she wouldn’t argue with Evan, she wanted it, too, wanted what Niall wanted. But her pleading eyes must have told him her desires, for Evan muttered a resigned curse.
Go easy. There needs to be a significant pause between each mark. If you can’t exercise that control, now isn’t the time.
Alanna arched her throat for the first bite, the geographical locator. Her body shuddered, clasping hard around Niall, overwhelmed by what, to a servant, was the most erotic act of all, the act by which a vampire bound her to him forever. It had been like that when Evan had given her the three marks, out in the gardens of the Savannah estate. Niall had held her against his body, the two of them taking her right afterward as Evan opened his mind and let all three sets of emotions intertwine. She knew it would be the same way now, even better, for now she truly would serve them both, in all ways.
The locator mark swirled through her blood, bringing no pain. On the contrary; it was as if each mark either man gave her enriched her blood, energized it, making it the best source of nourishment for her Masters.
In return, they offered her a flood of pleasure. Niall was thrusting, spending his time between marks in the most desirable way she could imagine. The tawny eyes had turned red of course, but she saw he was conscious of her amid the bloodlust, his attention on her aroused face, her every moan. Evan sat back on his heels, watching them, monitoring, but she could tell he was aroused, hungry, and she wanted him with them.
“Niall,” she gasped it. “Turn. Let me . . . so Evan can be with us. Please.”
With a growl, he rolled to his back, bringing her on top as he continued to thrust hard into her. Evan gripped her hips, then pulled the skirt over her head, divesting her of the rest of her clothes. The other advantage to being a third mark—between that and the sexual heat the three of them were generating, the chill Scottish night had no claim on her flesh. Unlike her Masters.
Evan shed his own clothes, then knelt behind her. He cupped her jaw, bringing her head back to meet his demanding kiss as Niall’s fangs found her throat again, tongue swirling over her flesh as he released the second mark. Paradise became the promise of Heaven.
You’re ours, lass.
Joy speared through her, hearing Niall speak directly in her mind for the first time. And he couldn’t have chosen more appropriate first words. She would cherish the memory of it as long as life was given to her.
Ours forever.
And of course, Evan would add to it, making it perfect, a closed circle. They not only gave her the words, they branded them on her heart and soul, like another kind of third mark.
Yes. She swept her glance over them both, then laid her head on Evan’s shoulder, looking up at him. “Ani le odi ve dodi li . . . ”
Evan’s eyes became unexpectedly moist as he translated for her, the words a Jewish bride might offer her groom. “I am my beloved’s . . . ”
“And my beloved is mine,” she finished in English. She put the challenge in her voice, and both her males responded to it, with lust and pleasure flickering dangerously in their eyes. “But I like the other way of saying it, too. ‘I am for my beloved—for both of my beloveds’ . . . ”
“Precious metuka,” Evan murmured, bringing his mouth down on hers once more. Niall’s hands closed over her hips, and he thrust upward, his cock impaling her deep, so she moaned against Evan’s mouth. He growled approvingly against her lips, his grip dropping to her breasts, kneading the curves and teasing the nipples, making her writhe against his hold in a way that only increased Niall’s strokes. When Evan released her mouth, she saw Niall’s eyes had gone fully red, but she could see her bear in his rapturous gaze. He was caught up in it, the savagery and euphoria both. She knew how he felt.
Proving it, she gripped him hard with her internal muscles, rose and fell, asserting her own desires in a way she knew would provoke him further, particularly when she let her hands fall onto his chest and dug her nails into the dragon tattoo, his flesh.
Evan took over then, a hand to the back of her neck to press her down onto Niall’s chest, adjusting her forward so he could slide a lubricated cock into her backside, both of them penetrating her as deep as they could reach, and their reach was considerable. She groaned with the effort of taking them both, and felt their male satisfaction crash over her. The hot wave of testosterone that rippled over her whole body was a precursor of the climax to come. But as intense as that was, nothing could match the next moment as Niall overlapped Evan’s hand on the back of her neck and bit her throat once more.
It burned some, because he should have waited longer between marks, but she thought Evan’s perhaps meliorated that effect. It was no worse than the heat of a brand, leaving a searing pleasure behind, the emotional impact of being fully claimed by her second Master. Alanna gasped, rocking in their grip as the serum coursed through her blood, intertwining with Evan’s claim upon her, weaving a bond around her soul, holding her to them. She rejoiced in it.
She was overwhelmed emotionally, but they were also driving her past her physical limits now, taking her higher and higher. That primal need took over everything. Like an animal who knew by instinct what she most needed, she smelled the blood coursing through Niall’s throat and didn’t hold back, biting down hard to break the skin and finding the warm flow of his blood waiting, to make the marking complete.
Stephen’s third mark had almost been like a girl’s first sex—built up into so much in her mind, yet the actuality of it had been like getting off the roller coaster before the best part of the ride happened. A sense that there was much, much more, just beyond her grasp. Learning through Evan’s third mark that there was a thrilling drop and rushing ascent into a state of pure euphoria didn’t make her any less greedy for the same sensation with Niall.
She’s an insatiable lass, Evan. ’Tis a guid thing there’ll be two of us to tend to her.
Niall could follow her thoughts like Evan. The delight of it coursed through her as well. But as she swallowed the richness of his blood, she closed her eyes, felt the differences of the two males’ marks, the same intriguing contrasts she’d noted in so many other things about them. Niall, the solid earth . . . Evan, the wind swirling through the pines . . . Her, the element that connected them both.
Evan pressed against her back, hands gripping her hips. Niall’s hand slid over her buttock, gripped Evan’s fingers. The Scot’s strength steadied them all as Evan thrust, Niall pushed deeper, and she tightened on both of them, each trying to give as much as they were taking.
The climax rolled up like that roller coaster on a straight line to the sky. “Masters . . . ”she gasped, and they gave her permission in one voice.
Come for us, Alanna.
As she catapulted over that edge, she dug her fingers into Niall’s shoulders, pressed her body up into the curve of Evan’s, reveled in the way Evan locked his arm around her waist, hand cupping her breast, Niall with his hand tangled in her hair, his other hand holding onto Evan, his strength pushing Evan and himself farther into her.
She screamed, shoved into another intense orgasm, as Evan bit back into her shoulder. The flow of marks swirled through her blood like a sacred text. She reveled in the press of both fangs, their heated mouths on her flesh, the scent of blood given and taken. When both men climaxed inside her at last, she cried out her pleasure to the night, showing them her desire, her yearning, to give and give and give.
A desire that would never end.
It took them all a long while to come down. When at last they were sprawled together on the soft earth, she couldn’t imagine being more content. Evan sheltered her body, coiled around her back and hips, while she lay, exhausted, on Niall’s chest. When her fingers slipped over the dragon tattoo, she felt a little pang of sadness. It was smooth, only the tattoo there now, the chai mark gone.
’Tis in my heart, lass. It will always be there.
“Will the tattoos go away?” she asked, clearing her throat. Evan’s third mark had helped heal her vocal cords, but she was still getting accustomed to that “sultry rasp,” as Niall called it.
“Not if I mark them with his own blood. But that’s his decision,” Evan said against her hair.
Niall reached over her, gripping Evan’s thigh before his fingers slipped back to her. “Aye. I want to keep them. You have a new mark of your own, lass.”
She raised her head to look down her body. In the shade of the tree of life, a new symbol had appeared. This one she knew, and the significance of it filled her, thickened her throat. She slipped her fingers over Niall’s where he was caressing it.
“A triquetra. A Gaelic symbol for trinity,” Evan said quietly. “Very fitting.”
“Master . . . ” She smiled, glad she didn’t have to tell them which one she meant, though, since their minds were open to her at the moment, she saw the brief sorting as they figured out she was talking to Evan. He grunted in acknowledgment, giving her a light squeeze.
“I was thinking about what you said, that night in the gazebo, about your art.” She looked up at the stars, comfortably held between the two men. “About doing something because something in you says that’s how it must be done . . . a flow of pure energy.”
She lifted her head, looked down at Niall. “I didn’t know how to explain it to you, but you can see it, feel it, inside me now, can’t you?”
The Scot held her gaze. She could see a lot shifting behind his tawny eyes. He was adjusting to the increased sharpness of his senses, the shape of his blood hunger, temporarily sated. It changed him dramatically, but in another way, it didn’t change him at all. It was just another part of the same remarkable man.
In sifting through all those slides, she’d seen so many pictures of Niall, or ideas inspired by Evan’s love for him. In a sense, each slide had given her a glimpse of both men, their many different facets, their interests and needs, intertwined so closely. Niall picked up on that thought. His mouth tightened, and she slid her fingers over his lips, caressing them. She closed her eyes as Evan laid a kiss on the back of her shoulder.
From the beginning, when I thought about serving a vampire, there was this feeling that, if I did it right, I would be lost in it. Like swimming in a sea I never wanted to leave, because I would be immersed in this one true, perfect thing. But the truth, and the perfection, is that nothing is one thing.
She turned her attention to Evan now, a tilt of her head that won her an additional brush of his lips over her temple.
“You showed me that. We’re as many things as we desire to be. And I’ve never really seen myself that way. Or realized how much better a servant I could be if I embraced that.”
“Ye have a whole lifetime ahead tae be all that ye desire, a ghrá,” Niall murmured, stroking her hair back from her face.
“So do you,” she whispered. “I like that. A ghrá. What does it mean?”
“Love,” Evan said, his mouth continuing to tease her flesh. He’d pushed her hair over her shoulder, was laying more tender kisses along the exposed track, and Niall was wrapping his fingers in the loose tendrils, the two of them weaving an erotic spell around her anew.
She gave herself to it, to the pleasure of their hands wandering over her, their breath touching her skin, their love surrounding her. Before dawn, they’d head for the cottage. After that, on to Ireland and almost three hundred years of memories. She’d follow her vampires wherever they’d take her.
As a servant, she’d never wanted anything more than that.