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  • Home > Anne Bishop > Black Jewels > Daughter of the Blood (Chapter 158)      Page
  • Daughter of the Blood(Black Jewels,Book 1)(158) by Anne Bishop
  • But he wouldn't let her raise her hips to sheathe him.

    "Still too dark," he gasped when she began to whimper and snarl. "Let's go to the Red. It's my Birthright."

    She tried to shake off the seduction tendrils he'd woven around her, but he'd spun his trap well.

    "We can have a bed there," he coaxed.

    She shuddered. Whimpered. There was no pleasure in the sound.

    An image appeared. A bed just big enough for the game. A bed with straps attached to the ends to tie down wrists and ankles.

    He dismissed the image and replaced it with his own. A large room with deep, soft carpets. A huge bed, its canopy made of gauze and velvet. Silk sheets and downy covers. Mounds of pillows. The only light came from a slow-burning fire and dozens of scented candles.

    Blinded by romance, she sighed and melted against him.

    He held the image, teasing, tantalizing as they rose to the Red.

    As they settled among the silk and pillows, he tried to reach for some link—his body, the Priest, anything—and choked on frustration. So close. So close and there was nothing for him to tap into to finish it—except the power Jaenelle had shaped around his chalice to hold the pieces together.

    Caressing and soothing, loving and lying, he kept her focused on the pleasure while he cautiously sipped the power forming the skin inside the chalice. The skin shrank. The top fragments wobbled but held. Enough.

    He reached for Saetan. Found exhaustion and a killing fury.

    He struck first. "Hush, Priest." He waited a moment, tapped a little more of the power holding the chalice together. "Use whatever you can now to form a tether. And prepare for a fight. I'm bringing her back."

    He reached for his body next. It was still stretched out on the Altar, next to Jaenelle. He strengthened the connection enough so that his body imitated his movements.

    Smiling, Daemon slowly rolled on top of her. Gently pinned her hands on either side of her head.

    He kissed her, nuzzled her as they rose and rose and rose.

    She rubbed against him. "Lover," she whimpered.

    "Soon," he lied. "Soon."

    Up and up.

    He was moments away from slipping back into his body when her eyes widened and she felt the trap spring around her.

    "No!" she screamed.

    Baring his teeth, he slammed both of them back into their bodies.

    Her screams filled the Altar room. Blood gushed between her legs.

    "Heal the body, Jaenelle!" Daemon shouted, fighting to keep her connected to her body while she tried to throw him off. "Heal it!"

    Her fear pounded against his mind.

    "You lied to me. YouLIED!"

    "I would have said anything,done anything to get you back," he roared, his nails digging in to hold her. "Heal it!"

    "Letmego letmego letmego."

    Bodies fought. Selves fought. As they tangled furiously, he felt Saetan slip the tether around her leg.

    One flick of the power within her would tear him apart, would set her free. Instead she begged, pleaded.

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire