Damien. Jacquelyn Frank

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СКАЧАТЬ each other that allowed one to flow in while the other flowed out. A tide that was powerful, volatile, and potentially dangerous, but a concerto of movement within itself. They were the very definition of what the Demons called an Imprinting; what humans called a soul mate. A perfect match. A meeting of life forces that transcended the limitations of the body.

      Syreena could not help but envy them. She was happy for them, but she was also jealous, and she could not help herself. Siena had never tended toward domestication. Quite the opposite, in fact, swearing up until the day of her wedding that she would never marry, refusing to expose her heart and the responsibilities of her throne to the influences of a male. Syreena had always known that her sister’s attitude had come from being raised by an irrational and bloodletting warlord of a father. The Queen had not wanted to repeat their mother’s mistakes by risking marriage.

      In truth, it had always been Syreena who had expressed wishes for a warm home, a loving mate, and a household of children in the letters the sisters had shared over the decades. Lycanthrope royals were allowed only one true mate, could have no other than that soul that existed out in the world somewhere only for them. Once they chose a lover, it was the equivalent of exchanging lifelong vows. It was supposed to be a bond without equal that would last through eternity, from one lifetime into the next.

      And Syreena longed for it with all of her heart at times.

      “Well, in spite of the fact that you two share a telepathic connection, I am certain that Elijah’s stay at Noah’s court these past two days has left you with a bit of catching up to do. So I will leave you both.”

      Syreena bowed out and away from their presence with haste, grateful that they were so close to her chambers. She made a quick escape into her suite of rooms before either of them could protest.

      “Damn,” Siena muttered.

      “What is it?” Elijah asked, taking her face between his hands and tilting her head back so he could look into her eyes and divine her thoughts.

      “Oh, nothing,” she assured him. “I just realized that she never answered a question I had asked her. I will make her do so…at a later date.”

      Elijah grinned broadly as her ideas for what to do in the interim filled his mind.

      “Someone missed me,” he teased.

      “Someone missed me,” she countered even as his hands moved possessively over her back, drawing her ever closer to his warmth and his heart.

      Chapter 2

      Damien entered his home after his hunt, levitating down over the compound walls and landing on a third-floor balcony. The balcony led to a brightly lit library, and he entered, curious to see who had beaten him in the time it took to hunt and travel back to the Santa Barbara mansion.

      He came around the shelves to the cozy sitting area several steps down into the center of the room. Sitting with her feet tucked up under her in a comfortable chaise, a book lying open in her lap, was Jasmine. She had not aged a day in nearly five hundred years, her skin still perfection, her black sweep of hair and dark eyes still as full of hidden, mysterious thoughts as ever. She was the one true presence he could not, try as he might, make himself grow tired of.

      That is, she was the only surviving such presence.

      Jasmine was one of the best hunters of his entourage, so it would not surprise him at all if she did hunt and return faster than he could, in spite of the fact that her hunting grounds were in Southern California.

      But he knew just by looking at her that she had not hunted. Her body was chilled, not flushed with fresh heat. Yet she looked as if she were quite comfortable with her book and not intending to go out anytime soon.

      “Jasmine?”

      She looked up, clearly knowing he had arrived long before he had even cleared the compound walls. His presence was not one that went unnoticed to any Vampire of moderate skill. Since her skill was superb, she would have been aware of him the moment he entered the county, if not quite sure exactly who he was.

      “Why have you not gone out?”

      She closed the book, not even taking the care to mark her page. “I will. Are you suddenly my keeper, Damien?”

      “Not suddenly. You have been a part of my household long enough to know I am everyone’s keeper.” He stepped lightly down, pushing aside a stack of books on the table across from her so he could seat himself directly at her eye level. “You are melancholy again,” he noted directly.

      “Don’t they call it depression nowadays?”

      Her glib tone did not sway him. He frowned slightly. “We are not human, Jasmine. Never were, never will be. Human terms will never quite suit us.”

      “I suppose not,” she agreed. “And I am not melancholy. Nor am I bored,” she added quickly when one of his dark brows picked up questioningly. “Don’t worry. You won’t find me causing mischief in order to entertain myself.”

      “Then explain to me why you are behaving so moodily.”

      “I believe I was born that way,” she rejoined, leaning a little closer to him, the ends of her black hair skimming the tops of her shoulders as she did so. “When have you known me to be anything other than moody?”

      “There is moody…and then there is this. I know you, as you say. You will start to neglect yourself, fall into torpor, and I will not see you for an entire century.”

      Jasmine actually smiled at that. He really did know her too well. The Prince was her oldest friend; her mentor, in fact. They had coasted over many centuries together, survived where their companions had not. She should be surprised if he did not know her.

      “I would not be the first to do so. And you do not pester any of the others of us who become disenchanted with the present world and decide to go to ground for a while. Why am I earning your special form of concern? Why do you always pester me about this?”

      “Because I miss you when you leave me, Jasmine. Do I need to say that?”

      “Perhaps. It is nice to hear it.” The slim beauty reached out with her long nails to run them down his face fondly. “I am well,” she reassured him with a sigh. “Perhaps I am in need of something to occupy me after all. I do not know.”

      Damien smiled suddenly, transforming his serious features in a way that took years off his already permanently ageless good looks.

      “It just so happens that I may have just the thing,” he told her.

      The sound of footsteps echoed in the caverns leading to the newfound Library hidden within them as Syreena approached the entrance. The traps had been removed, the trick of the locks disengaged for the time being. The stone that had protected the mysterious Library had been moved aside as scholars from differing Nightwalker species warmed the lonely shelves with the beginnings of a continued presence.

      She stood at the opening for a moment, taking in only her second view of the remarkable room. The smell of must and mildew was a little less, she noted immediately. Leaving the cavern open had allowed fresh air to circulate in. It was a relief to her senses and probably those of all the other Nightwalkers.

      The first step into the СКАЧАТЬ