Part 29 (1/2)

”Is it done?” she whispered.

He nodded. ”For better or for worse.”

She smiled. There would be no ”poorer.” Gian had seemingly limitless money. Any sickness would be fleeting. And with luck, death would never part them. ”So be it,” she said, and pulled him into her. He adjusted her so that his lovely c.o.c.k thrust against that spot inside her that felt so wonderful. She squeezed her eyes shut in ecstasy. He was controlling the pace and he quickened it. Her panting breaths began to have small yips of pleasure mixed in with them.

Just as she began to contract, she heard him say, ”The blood is the life, my love.” And then the universe shattered.

Gian held her up to drink. ”Kate,” he whispered. ”Wake up. You need water.”

Her eyes swam up to dulled awareness. It was all he could do not to cry and rock her in his arms, but he had to be strong for her. Just a little while more to watch her suffer, surely.

But his Companion was still weakened. Perhaps he wasn't giving her enough immunity. What if he had killed her? He put down the cup of water, but he still clutched her against his chest. He took the knife he had bought from one of the villagers and sliced his neck. The carotid was the strongest artery he could find, and he wanted to get the maximum amount of his blood into her before the cut sealed. He held her lips to his neck.

She sucked convulsively. The Companion had firm hold of her now and it knew what to do. He only hoped her body could withstand the fever storms. His cut closed and he laid her back onto the pallet. He wiped her naked body with the cloth dipped in water from a bucket. He had taken care of all her needs for the past three days. He had fed her blood a score of times or more. That weakened him. It didn't matter. He would live. If Kate did not, his life would be intolerable.

He sat on the packed-earth floor and leaned his back against the bed, head drooping. He hadn't slept for three days, but nightmares had been invading even his waking state in the last hours. They weren't flashes of the war, anymore. Those had no power over him. They were dreams of Kate, dead in his amis, or Kate calling to him across a dark river.

Kate opened her eyes. Something was different. The weakness, the pain in every joint, the fire in her veins; all were just... gone.

She felt strong. Alive. Whole. She had been a portion of who she could be all her life. And now, the thing swimming in her veins gave her a sense of... enlargement.

The ceiling of the hut was made of palm fronds over coa.r.s.e peeled poles. She could see every frond in excruciating detail. She heard the villagers moving about in their own huts, a lamb bleating far away, even the rustle of a rat somewhere outside the hut.

She could smell the dust, and the oil in the lamp and the remains of lamb stew, and... Gian.

Ambergris. That's what the sweet undertone of his scent was. She had smelled it once in a lady's boudoir when she was eight.

How had she never recognized it as the aroma that accompanied his cinnamon?

She turned her head. He sat beside her bed, his head resting on her thigh.

”h.e.l.lo.”

His head jerked up. He frowned, examining her. Then his brow cleared. ”Welcome. How do you feel?”

She thought about that. ”Whole, I think.” She sat up. He scrambled to sit beside her, supporting her back with his arm. ”If you had told me how wonderful it was, I would have insisted on doing this earlier.”

”Is it wonderful?”

”The only reason you don't know that is because you've never known anything else. Trust me.” She looked around. Each detail of the hut stood out, even though it was dark. She felt the sun set. Startling. She turned to him. ”Do you always know just where the sun is?”

He nodded, and the most tender expression came over his face. ”Part of the package.”

Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks. She hadn't cried in twenty years. Surprising. He leaned in and kissed her wet cheek. It was the one with the scar. ”I don't suppose the Companion healed my scar.”

He shook his head. ”But if you are looking to add to your collection, that won't be possible.”

She sighed and shrugged. ”Oh, well. That would have been too good to be true.”

”I should have missed it. I know that sounds strange. It's part of who you are, though.””But only part.” It felt good to be able to say that.

”Where to?” he asked. ”Do you still want a cottage in England?”

She shook her head. ”Whatever made me think I could be happy there?” She thought a moment. ”First we go back and make certain the contessa has recovered. Then... I don't know.”

”I think I should like to see Italy united against their oppressors.” His tone was tentative. ”The Carbonari could use some leaders.h.i.+p, or so my mother says.”

She smiled. ”Ahhhh. Are you creating a new duty for yourself?”

He considered. ”Duty has its place and honor. But they aren't as important as purpose.”

Like her need to get enough money to buy a cottage. That had kept her at least marginally sane for years. ”Very well. I can't say I care much who rules Italy. I have no morals, you know. You shall have to provide that part.”

”Agreed.” His eyes were soft.

”And I need some adventure. I wonder if the Carbonari could use any spying? I'd make an excellent spy now. Especially if I can occasionally see people's future.”

He looked alarmed. ”Spying would be dangerous.”

”Tosh. My companion makes me strong.” She crinkled her eyes at him. ”I won't need you to protect me.”

A wash of regret bathed his face.

”Are you sorry you changed me?” Maybe he didn't like her strength.

His expression once again dissolved in tenderness. ”I suppose I am about to find out what poor Rufford has to put up with,” he complained.

That gave her confidence again. After all, was she really changed? She'd always been strong-willed. And he had fallen in love with her in spite of that. ”And Rufford looked like he regretted every minute of it, didn't he?”

”I suppose you need some interest as well.” His grudging tone was so dear.

”What I'm interested in,” she said, taking his face between her two hands and bringing him close, ”is finding out what all these heightened senses can be used for.”

He grinned. ”Ahhhh. Let me give you the guided tour.”

He kissed her. His tongue probed her mouth. And sensation flooded her, almost overwhelming, sending fire burning down her veins and into her most secret parts. She gasped.

He pulled away and grinned that devilish, boyish grin. ”Did not I warn you that we have a heightened s.e.xuality? And that was just the beginning.”

She pulled him back to her. That's just what this felt like. The beginning.

Read on for an excerpt from the next book bySUSAN SQUIRES One with the Darkness Coming soon from St. Martin's Paperbacks The City-State of Firenze, Tuscany, 1821 He had more courage than she did. Didn't one always want that for one's child?

Contessa Donatella Margherita Luch.e.l.la di Poliziano looked into the startling green eyes of her handsome son and saw his father's eyes looking back at her. Children were so rare for their kind. She was incredibly lucky to have borne him. His face had a softness she had not seen there in centuries. He took her shoulders and touched his cheek to each of hers.

”I'm glad you're feeling better, Mother,” he said softly.

And Gian meant it. But he didn't want to stay with her. She understood that. It was natural. So why were her eyes filling? She was being nonsensical.

”You and Kate be off. You're wasting precious darkness.” The doors open to the balcony of the Palazzo Vecchio showed twilight deepening into indigo. Summer in Italy gave precious little darkness, an inconvenience to ones such as they were. In the courtyard below, the horses were snorting in antic.i.p.ation, their shoes clattering on the cobblestones.