Page 114 of Samhain Savior
If only I could fuckingfocus.
Chapter fifty-three
Archer
I was a fucking idiot.
Bringing my innocent little mate into a den of fucking vampires who were, quite literally,fuckingin every Hell’s damned corner was either a horrible mistake…or the hottest fucking thing I’d ever done.
Sitting on my lap, Delilah lounged against my chest, her body hot and her heart racing. I knew Genevieve could hear it; every rapid pump of blood that slid through my mate’s veins would be like the sweetest siren call to her.
Vampires were powerful to begin with, but a Nest Queen? She’d be counting the heart beats of every living creature in a one mile radius. If the way she was occasionally gazing at Delilah was any indication, Genevieve wasonly mildly intrigued. Sitting on her throne, idly stroking the tiny alligator as she surveyed her court, I could tell she wanted to know more. After all, our story was interesting, maybe even mildly amusing, and in a life as long as ours, any kind of novelty was appreciated. Something to break up the monotony of existence.
But if her looks turned togenuineinterest—or, fucking Hell,desire—I really would have a fight on my hands.
Scanning the room, I tried to locate the others, knowing that even if Vine had lost his head and started fucking someone—or several someones—Corson and Mal would watch his back. Raising my eyes to the balcony Genevieve had descended from, I spotted Mal, his black gaze already on mine. I lifted an eyebrow in question, and he nodded solemnly, letting me know he had it handled, and that was good enough for me.
Turning my attention back to the witch on my lap, I curled my fingers around her throat, instinctively protecting her exposed neck from the dangers that surrounded her. Around us, the music changed, the classical notes of the string quartet being drowned out by more and more heavy base, and the tone of the party changed as well. The formal court dances, steps that I knew by heart even after so many years, had changed, the dancers forgoing the rigid formality of the routines and insteadtouching and groping each other with every pass. I could sense—and smell—Delilah’s desire increasing every time she caught a glimpse of the action, and it was taking all the self-control that I possessed not to spread her open and slide my fingers into the pussy I knew would be dripping for me already.
“Archer, darling,” Genevieve cooed, draped over the sofa like she was posing for a painting. On her lap, the alligator opened its mouth, the opposing rows of sharp teeth looking more than a little intimidating for such a small creature. Chuckling internally, I wondered what the hedgehog would think if she could be bothered to poke her spiked head out of her pouch and look around.
Rolling my eyes toward Genevieve, doing my best to keep my attention in several places at once, I wished once again that I had left Delilah at the club—and stayed there myself, as well.
“Your highness?” I said with only the barest of acceptable deference. She may have been a Nest Queen, but I still outranked her—by a lot.
“You simply must tell me your story. How did you come to be mated to such adeliciouslittle morsel?”
“He stole me,” Delilah answered dreamily before I could, not looking away from the dancers that filled the room. There were more of them now, and they were wearing decidedly less clothing as they moved through thefamiliar steps, bodies weaving across the floor in near-perfect timing. “I ran. He chased. I fought. He caught.” Raising her hand, she slid her fingers over mine where they rested on her throat, dancing against the mating mark. “Caught and collared,” she said, the shadow collar trilling in happiness at her touch. “Now he lives here.” Her hand glided from her throat to rest over the swell of her breast—extra plump thanks to the corset she was wearing—and the fading scar that was my sigil peeking out of the top of her dress. “Always with me. Alwaysinme.”
My breath caught, her words sparking something deep inside me, and I had to grit my teeth against the need to sink them into her flesh again.
To claim heragain.
“Oh, Mex,” Genevieve chuckled, throwing back yet another glass of bloody champagne. “You do have the most interesting friends.”
As I watched, Genevieve’s gaze narrowed on Delilah, on the collar at her throat and my mark on her skin. It was obvious that the Queen had questions, ones I wasn’t keen on answering, especially not with a needy little mate on my hands.
“And you, little witchling?” Genevieve cooed, her fingers stroking down the back of the alligator absently. “How can you stand it?” she asked, looking at me withmalicious glee before directing her gaze to Delilah once more. “How can you stand to be the mate of the creature who stood idly by and watched as your ancestors were ruthlessly murdered in cold blood?”
Delilah gasped, her shock at the question breaking through the fog of lust that the diamond had her trapped in. I could feel her hurt seeping through the bond, and it had me wanting to tear the fucking mansion down.
No one hurt my mate and got away with it.
“I beg your pardon,your majesty,” I said, my anger leeching into my words. “But if I recall correctly, you weren’t there.” Turning, I took in a wide eyed Delilah, and I could see the confusion on her face. The difficulty she was having reconciling her draw to me as her mate against her loyalty to her blood as a witch. “While some of us have been busy fighting, you and your nest have been indulging. Growing fat on the safety that myself and others like me provide.” Genevieve sat straighter, her lips pursed in annoyance at being called out, but I wasn’t done. “You were sipping champagne, dancing and fucking and feeding your way through the courts of Europe while my Brotherhood washere, facing a reckoning of hatred so vile, it still makes me sick. And when the tides began to turn in Versailles, you fled, choosing the safety of Murmur’s protection over the chaos in France that you no doubt contributed to.” Sheblinked at me, and if she could have blushed her cheeks would have been pink with embarrassment. “What went down in Salem was a nightmare for all of us, and I am the one who has to live with that. But don’t think for a second that what happened was because I wasidle. Just know that I willneverallow those I care for to be victims of another’s agenda again.”
Glaring once more at the diamond, the entire reason we had come to this cursed house in the first place, I stood, holding Delilah steady as she regained her feet.
“Now, if you’ll excuse us,your majesty,” I said, biting back a smile at the surprised look on her face. “I believe my mate is in need of—” I paused, shooting a meaningful glare at Mex, hoping she understood that I wanted her to stick close to Genevieve and the diamond. “A dance,” I finished tightly before grasping Delilah by the hand and pulling her behind me on to the dance floor.
“Archer,” she protested, her feet a bit wobbly. “I can’t! I don’t know any of these dances.”
“You don’t need to know them,” I assured her, pushing through the crowd until we took our places in the mix. “All you need to do is follow my lead, witch.” Facing her, I raised one hand, holding it in the air between us as the remaining dancers did the same. Licking her lips, Delilah frowned, hesitating until she saw the other dancers on herside of the floor also raised their hands, their bodies turned just enough to let them touch their partners. Delilah mimicked them, her palm pressing to mine as the music crested and we all began to move, each partnered pair spinning in a slow circle, hands touching between us. When we’d made a half rotation we stopped, turning our bodies until our other hands were together, palms touching as we spun back the way we’d come.
When we’d returned to our original positions, all the dancers in dresses bent down, gathering the hems of their skirts and holding them out wide. Delilah did the same, if a half a beat behind them, and I smirked at how fucking hot she looked, her legs on display beneath the ruffled layers of satin and lace. Clenching my teeth, I tried to push away the memory of my head between those legs as I led Delilah in the steps of theContredanse,and instead focused on making sure she didn’t fall.
“Archer,” she breathed when the next set of steps led us together, my arm wrapped around her waist as I guided her in a wide circle, weaving us carefully between the other dancers. “I can’t… Archer, I need—I canfeelit. The diamond. It’s speaking to me. Calling to me.” She swallowed as she glanced up at me, her blue eyes full of want. “Temptingme.”
I thought that might have been the case; her behavior had been too erratic, my normally level-headed witch replaced with a wanton creature of pure need.
