When Lord Marshall joined them, Elisa was able to get a better look at their host. A made vampire who’d been turned at an older age, he looked in his forties and had handsome silver threaded through his dark hair. Along with eyes of a remarkable emerald green, he had a stature that made it clear he was a male who commanded respect.
Cynthia was a stained-glass artisan who ran a shop in Miami. Her servant, Christophe, was a Frenchman of exceptional beauty. He kept his silken brown hair out of his eyes with the occasional graceful head toss. It managed not to look too effeminate because of the sensual mouth and straight, sharp nose, though Elisa thought Dev still would have teased him about being too much of a sheila. He was handsome and well proportioned, however, dressed in slacks and a dress shirt open at the throat, revealing a glimpse of muscular chest.
Jonathan Kreager’s tastes apparently also ran to men. Elisa knew such things existed, of course, but none of the vampires in Danny’s territory buttered their bread that way. With his thick red hair, long-lashed blue eyes and pale skin, Jonathan actually was girlishly pretty, a slim Fae prince without the wings. His servant was just the opposite. If Jonathan was a fairy prince, Gustav would have been one of the mountainous Vikings who stood at the head of a longboat, bellowing orders and eyeing convents on the coast of England, ripe for pillaging. He had chocolate brown eyes, a trimmed beard that caught the candlelight with a copper sheen, and hair queued on his shoulders, more of a thick, unruly mane than a head of hair.
In deference to his bulk, he wore clothes that had obviously been tailored to his size, and the linen shirt tucked into camel-colored trousers worked well on him, along with calf-length dress boots. Interestingly, she noticed he wore a collar, a thick band of leather. A chain tether disappeared down the shirt, and from the faint imprint of it, it also appeared to go into his pants.
It’s attached to what’s known as a cock harness, Elisa. In addition to the collar on his neck, he has one around his cock and balls, to remind him to mind his Master. Some vampires like using such devices on their servants.
She couldn’t even imagine where one would obtain such a thing. But the world was much more vast than she realized.
The two servants were giving her the once-over, not in a crude way, but as she’d told Mal. Servants sized one another up. Though of course this was a bit different, because the three of them weren’t going to be polishing china or scrubbing floors together. Fortunately, their regard didn’t feel sleazy or inappropriate. As they all moved toward the dining room, the Frenchman gave her a conspiratorial wink. Gustav cocked his head, then held his forefinger and thumb close together in a subtle gesture at his side, indicating his amusement with her diminutive size. It reminded her of Kohana, the teasing more playful than insulting.
It made her feel somewhat better. She did notice that when Christophe winked at her, Mal gave him a narrow look. He instantly became the perfect servant again, his expression revealing nothing, eyes focused on the back of his Mistress’s chair after he seated her at the long table.
Cynthia was willowy and elegant, her hands how Elisa would expect an artist’s to look, slender and interesting, the nails trimmed short, though painted a glossy pink. She wore a soft flowing dress in a matching pink that looked like an Impressionistic painting, a melting of different shades that shimmered like a sky when she moved. It molded to her curves and yet enhanced the fragile bone structure of her neck, her hair pulled up on her nape. If she hadn’t known otherwise, Elisa would have guessed Christophe was the vampire and Cynthia the servant, but when Cynthia tilted her head back to see what mischief had caused Mal’s look, that sharpening of her gray eyes, as well as the flash of fang, corrected the impression.
“Forgive him, Malachi. He can be such a terrible flirt. Later, you’re welcome to try to beat it out of him, but you’ll only achieve personal satisfaction, no real results. I’ve tried all sorts of torments, and it only grows worse.”
Jonathan lifted a brow at Mal’s noncommittal response. His speculative smile clearly showed his appreciation of Mal’s looks, something that startled Elisa, though Mal seemed to take it in stride. It reminded her that, though he preferred not to attend vampire socials, it was not his first one. “You’re an Indian. When were you made?”
“Nineteenth century.”
“That’s remarkable. I wouldn’t have expected our kind to have penetrated the pioneer country at that time. Too much nature and sun for our tastes.”
“It was in the East. I ran into Lady Diana there. She made me.”
“I’ve heard of her. She’s somewhat of an oddity, isn’t she? I’ve heard she’s getting to have a touch of the Ennui and stays pretty much on her estate. She still has her harem of made vampires, though, as diverse as a box of colored candy. The Council limited her to making one every decade recently.”
The conversation then turned to equally inane chatter, but Elisa’s attention remained on Mal. He’d tightened his hands on the arms of the chair, a slight motion but one she noted. She wondered if it was the subject that made him uncomfortable, or the environment itself. The room had no windows, perhaps for long dinners that went close to the dawn hours.
Kreager sat back, murmured to Gustav. As the servant left the room, the vampire cocked his head toward their quiet host. “Lord Marshall, I know you typically prefer such things to begin during dessert and coffee, but I have a new toy, a prototype from an inventor friend with an interest in the sensual arts. Seeing as we have a lovely new female servant here tonight, one almost delightfully virginal in her exposure to our entertainments, I thought we might use her as a test subject for it.”
Gustav had returned quickly. When Jonathan gestured, the servant went to Mal, handing the item to him with a courteous half-bow. Elisa got a better look at it as it was handed over, and wasn’t at all sure how to react. It was like a man’s cock, only shorter and curved. There appeared to be a notched piece near the base.
“I’m sure you’ve all seen a vibrator, though they’re harder to find among polite company these days than they were earlier in the century. The phallus part is self-explanatory,” Kreager noted, “but the piece at the bottom is the new offering from my friend. It fits against the clitoris. He said the dual stimulation can bring a woman to orgasm, over and over.”
He looked toward Cynthia, eyes flashing with devilish mischief. “You may want to purchase one, sweetheart. You can taunt Christophe by using it on yourself. Perhaps being replaced by a mere toy might make him behave better.”
With the far less congenial glance he sent toward the suddenly far more tense-jawed Christophe, Elisa saw Jonathan’s pretty face was a deceptive mask for that relentless control vampires all seemed to wield so aptly. She thought of the chain running into Gustav’s trousers. Whatever kind of master Jonathan was, that look held more than a hint of it.
The vampire angled a considering eye to Lord Marshall, his tone becoming casual, and kinder than she would have expected. “It’s also useful for a woman who is feeling somewhat . . . separated from her sexual self. For whatever reason.”
The idea of forcing a traumatized woman to perform sexually made Elisa blink. But then she thought of how a third-mark could lose herself in that relentless sexual drive and wondered if her disapproval might be misplaced. Further, Lord Marshall showed his first reaction since the appetizers had been served. Interest flickered across his face at Kreager’s words. After a considering pause, he nodded to Mal.
“I agree with Jonathan’s idea for entertainment. Your servant will demonstrate the device throughout the sampling of our next two courses.”
“Excellent, my lord.” Jonathan inclined his head. “By then, if it does as it should, Gustav and Christophe will be fair about to come out of their trousers. Dessert will be very lively. We can orchestrate a good performance to honor your hospitality.”
Elisa only half-heard the comment, her attention frozen on that object in Mal’s hand and the plans for it. There were certainly . . . objects that had been used at the dinners Danny had hosted, whispers about them. Her mother had referenced such things with casual crudity when Elisa was a small girl and they were beyond her comprehension, but this was her first direct exposure. It appeared it was about to be her first direct experience with it as well.
Elisa, come stand beside my chair.
She’d worn a black demi bra that pushed her breasts up impossibly high. The dress she wore was a slinky black thing with sparkles and a silver sash, silver heels. She’d dressed her hair with several costumejewelry diamond pins and been amazed at how glamorous she looked, a tiny, curvy pixie. Despite his earlier remarks, he’d had her wear a black slip of a thong, an amazing piece of work that covered nothing, designed merely to be titillating to the male species. At the thought of taking off the dress, wearing only such things, she grew cold and a little timid, but Mal took care of things.
When she came to stand before him, he untied the sash of the wraparound dress with little fanfare, letting it slide open, revealing her provocative underwear. Her tiny tremulous breath made her bosom quiver. She was aware of Christophe’s more discreet but no less avid regard.
I will poke his eyes out with my butter knife, and then you won’t have to worry about him.
Let him look, Master. He’ll see the traces of your seed over my breasts.
His gaze flickered up to her, hot approval there at the reminder and the address. It helped steady her, and so she kept her focus on him. He slid his hands along her waist, his thumbs following the line of the thong in front, indulging himself in the caress, but soothing her with it as well. Then he slid lower, over the crotch of the panties. She’d been wet when she’d put them on, so the panel was already damp and she shuddered at the contact, earning sharpened attention all down the table. It was like wolves scenting blood, only in this case their killer senses were tuned to sexual arousal.
Even Cynthia seemed quite interested, but that didn’t surprise Elisa, because of Danny. For whatever reason, Elisa found two women taking their fill of each other less shocking than two men. Maybe because she was a woman and knew how easily females could embrace intimacy.
