Nightmaster

“Yes,” Trinity said. “Elizabeth said—”

“Cassandra.”

The voice was unmistakably Ares’s, and he was standing somewhere very close to the door. Cassandra started, and her confident attitude changed to one of uncertainty and fear.

Not of Ares, Trinity was sure. It was the fear that came from being caught doing something forbidden.

“Why are you here?” Ares asked, still out of Trinity’s sight.

“I only came to welcome the new serf, my lord,” Cassandra said, moving from the doorway.

“She was to rest,” Ares said, a trace of anger in his voice. “Go to your room.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Trinity heard Cassandra’s soft footsteps retreating, and then Ares was filling the doorframe, a dark silhouette with eyes that seemed to pin Trinity to the spot. He wore a long, deep blue tunic, and his hair was loose around his broad shoulders.

He entered the room and strode to her side. “Are you well now?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, averting her gaze. “Much better. Thank you, my lord.”

He took her chin in his hand and drew her head up. “What is this new humility? It doesn’t suit you.”

Trinity shivered at the touch of his hand, the nearness of his body, the clear evidence that he was very much aroused. He’d just been “served” by Cassandra, but it was obvious that he was far from satisfied.

His desire still seemed at odds with his normally cool, controlled demeanor, but she’d seen just how much he could change from one moment to the next.

“Should I resist you, my lord?” she said, meeting his gaze. “Is that what you want me to do?”

He released her chin and stepped back. “When you have bathed and receive proper attire,” he said, “you will join me in my apartments. I shall see if you are worth the trouble it took to win you.”

Chapter 5

Trinity struggled to contain her sudden rush of desire, the moist heat between her thighs, the pounding of her heart.

She kept her face averted, praying Ares couldn’t detect her inner thoughts. It seemed impossible that she should welcome his touch, especially because such feelings on her part went well beyond the scope of her mission.

Still, she couldn’t keep pretending these feelings didn’t exist. Fighting them would only expend energy she couldn’t afford to waste.

And she needed him to trust her, to talk with her, to allow her freedom in the Household. When she “surrendered” to Ares, her attraction would seem all the more genuine. She’d be able to concentrate on the work that was of the utmost importance.

She met his gaze. “I will be honored to serve you in any way, my lord,” she said.

“Will you? Even after what I did to you?”

He meant the kiss, she thought. As if he still felt badly about it. Even guilty.

Surely that wasn’t possible.

“What must I do to prove myself?” she asked.

With a sharp, almost clumsy motion, he turned away. “Have you eaten?”

“I was told a tray would be brought here for me.”

“And clothing?”

“The same.”

“Then I will leave you.” He walked out the door with a single, smoldering glance over his shoulder.

Trinity’s mouth was dry, and her breath seemed to burn in her lungs. She quickly found the shower and removed her shift, intensely aware of her body, even more so than when Palemon had forced her to strip. Her breasts were tender, her nipples hard, her legs trembling.

She turned on the water, adjusting it to the coldest setting. But as soon as she began to lather her body with the sweet-smelling liquid in the dispenser, her imagination began to kick into overdrive. She felt hands caressing her breasts, teasing her nipples, working the soap into her stomach and lower regions. She felt the hand slip between her thighs, sliding into her natural wetness.

Ares’s hands. And his lips grazing her neck. His teeth...

Trinity half stumbled out of the shower and snatched at the towel hanging from a rack set into the wall. She rubbed herself furiously, removing every last drop of moisture from her body. Then she dragged on her shift and sat on the bed, closing her eyes and focusing on regaining her equilibrium.

When a young serf knocked on her door to deliver a tray of fresh, fragrant food, Trinity ate it as if she had an appetite. Soon afterward, Abbie arrived with a gown: a simple, floor-length, amethyst silk slit to the thigh and cut low in the neckline, though not as low as Cassandra’s. Trinity allowed the tailor to help her put it on. There were no undergarments to mar the clean lines of the gown or disturb the liquid caress of the silk gliding over her skin.

Elizabeth arrived just as Abbie was leaving. The two women exchanged a few brief words in the hall, and then the older woman came into the room. She looked Trinity over with obvious appreciation.

“I don’t know what to say,” she said. “Abbie has outdone herself this time....” She hesitated. “Are you all right, Trinity?”

“I’m fine,” she said with a look of carefully constructed tranquility. “I’m ready.”

Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m afraid we really haven’t been of much help to you,” she said slowly. “But I want to make sure you aren’t afraid of Ares. When I was quite a bit younger, I belonged to another Bloodmaster. It was not a pleasant experience. When I had grown too old to interest him, he offered me for open Claiming.” She released a breath. “It’s usually reserved for cast-off serfs, and most are only valuable for increasing the number of an Opir’s staff, and his or her prestige.”

“What happened to you?” Trinity asked.

“After the Bloodlords and Bloodmasters have chosen all those serfs that interest them and paid their former owners the pittance they are worth, the rest are available to Houseless Freebloods. You understand what Freebloods are?”

“Former vassals converted into full Opiri.”

“Made free to build their own destinies,” Elizabeth said. “Some become clients either to their own Sires or other Bloodlords. But they can also choose to fight their way up the ladder and form their own Households. For them, acquiring serfs is not a simple matter of bidding. They fight for their property, and many die.” She sighed. “Two very nasty Freebloods were fighting over me when Ares stepped in and claimed me. I have been here ever since.”

“So he saved you. What would have happened if he hadn’t?”

“Freebloods live on the edge. A serf’s life under such circumstances is fragile. And often short. Now I have a comfortable home where I can be useful. And I’m not alone.”

“Thank you for telling me this,” Trinity said.

“No need to thank me.” Elizabeth rose again, her eyes crinkling as she smiled. “I’m just saying that even if Ares doesn’t keep you with him, you’ll have a comfortable life. Cassandra deliberately sets herself apart from the rest of us. It won’t be that way with you.”

“No,” Trinity said. “It won’t.” Suddenly self-conscious, she smoothed the silk over her thighs. “When do I—”

As if in answer to her unfinished question, the serf she’d seen with Ares in the Claiming room entered the infirmary. Daniel, she remembered Ares calling him—a young man of medium height, with sandy hair and light blue eyes. “Good afternoon,” he said, the words as flat as his expression.