“Well, our gates aren’t for us to hide behind,” Nerida said. “They’re to better defend and protect what’s here.”

When the female vampire glanced at her, Alanna bowed her head anew. It was difficult not to stare when a mature woman’s speech came from the bow-shaped mouth of a six-year-old child. Miah at least had some of the angular features of an adolescent about to step across the threshold to womanhood.

“We’ll advise Mel and increase our own security measures,” Nerida continued. “It sounds like we have reinforcements on standby.”

“Yes. The Council vampire will be patrolling the perimeter. It’s our hope he’ll apprehend Stephen before the situation crosses our path.”

“Regardless, consider yourself welcome, Evan. You and those you protect.” Miah gave him a nod. “Niall of course is always welcome. A to-do list is already waiting for him.”

“For the usual compensation I suppose?” When Niall arched a brow, the two female vampires grinned, showing fangs this time.

“They started cooking a week ago. You’ll be so fat Evan will leave you behind. Then you’ll never be out of our clutches.”

“Promises, promises, ladies.”

Miah rubbed against him like an affectionate cat. “Mel just went off shift. She has that list ready if you want to get an early look at it.” Affecting a passable Scottish accent, she added, “Though we willnae be needing ye ’til the morrow.”

The Scot got a nod of assent from Evan. When Niall looked toward Alanna, she made sure she was looking at the floor. I serve them. They do not serve me.

Niall touched her hair. Alanna put all her effort into brushing her lips across his palm with the proper devotion and full submission. “I’ll take care of the things at the cabin,” she managed. “And be there if you need anything.”

She pushed away the thought of his flesh carrying the musk of another woman’s body. I am a servant. I serve. That is my pleasure, my only desire . . .

Hearing him leave the gazebo, the boards vibrating as he descended the steps, made things hurt inside of her. Fortunately, his departure gave her an excuse for her own. “Master, do you need me further, or should I attend to the cottage?”

“You’re excused, Alanna.” The gentle understanding made it more unbearable, but she bowed to the vampire females and left the gazebo before her reaction could choke her. How far she’d fallen, that her emotions could command her in such an irrational way. Evan, being a vampire, would thankfully leave her alone to manage the reality of being a servant.

Because who understood that reality better than her?

21

SHE threw herself into unpacking. After that, she set out some photographs Evan carried as trip mementoes. Cutting a handful of black-eyed Susans from the front stoop, she arranged them in water glasses. The refrigerator was well-stocked with stews, casseroles, meats and vegetables that only needed heating. Two apple pies had appeared on the counter, so she ate a slice that fairly melted in her mouth. She tried not to resent it. Caring for Niall and Evan was her job.

She imagined the Scot in a cottage bedroom with Mel, her arms and legs twined around him, Niall plowing into her willing, slick folds, her throat arched to him, ample breasts pressed into his chest . . .

Stop it. Despite Evan’s proscription on penance, she knew her duty. She had to get her emotions under control. At the gazebo, the desire to create had been humming off his skin. He’d be lost in his painting, so she could handle it without disrupting him.

Fortunately, the well-stocked kitchen had uncooked rice. She scattered a thick covering over a bath towel and knelt facing the wall. As the sharp pieces bit into her knees, she began the meditation, letting the building discomfort pull her into that mindless zone.

She kept at it until her knees felt as if they were on knife blades, then she rose, stifling the short cry with vicious purpose. She didn’t feel better about Niall’s whereabouts, but she was less wound up about it. Evan’s second mark helped the cuts heal over quickly. Rechecking the vampire’s cellar room, she confirmed it was ready for him. She’d added a quilt and a glass of flowers, placing out a couple of books he was reading, along with a bottle of wine. She added a covered sampling of the cookies and apple pie.

She would go to bed. Alone. Putting on the shirt Niall had discarded earlier, she considered the bed he would share with her, if ever he deigned return to it. Turning away from it, she went back down to the cellar.

Merely a week ago, she’d never have dreamed of insinuating herself in her Master’s room without his direct invitation, but tonight she would risk his punishment. Niall felt too far away, though she wrapped the excess of the shirt closer around her body, inhaling his scent, taking that into her fitful sleep.

Sometime close to dawn, she was aware of Evan joining her. She was so exhausted she didn’t come out of sleep quickly enough to verify if he wanted her there. However, he put her at ease, sliding into the bed behind her, caressing her hip. When his lips touched her throat, she lifted her chin, offering. A dream-laden sigh left her as he bit into her flesh, tugged the quilt away and turned her onto her back. She wore nothing under the T-shirt so her legs spread for him, surrendering to his demand. As he pushed his cock inside her, stroked, he took her into a drifting, liquid, swirling climax where she moaned into his shoulder, held on to him through their mutual release. Then she was curved back into his body, his quiet reproof in her drifting mind.

You will not harm yourself again, Alanna. Chaos is the precursor to creation. Let your emotions spin as they wish. I will have Niall punish you for your disobedience.

She’d welcome any attention the Scot would offer her, even punitive. But at the same time, she wanted him to choke on apple pie. She fell back asleep with Evan’s tender amusement in her mind.

When she woke, she was in the upper bedroom. Niall had returned to change clothes, for what he’d worn yesterday was draped over the corner hamper. Light streaming through the window offered her a brilliant sunrise as she dressed. Evan had left her a note on the dresser, telling her to report to the commune coordinator to help with the tasks that kept the little community self-sufficient.

She arrived there with a group of people, apparently used to a similar routine. When introductions were made, she wasn’t surprised to find some of the residents wary. Given their circumstances, she knew trust would have to be earned, but this morning that was fine. The staff embraced her eagerness to work, not talk.

A vegetable garden and orchard needed weeding and pruning. After breakfast, there was dish duty in the communal eating area. Once they found out about her cooking skills, she was invited to help the lunch crew. Later she went to the infirmary, where she helped as orderly and nurse assistant. A few residents had arrived with broken limbs, one with a wired jaw. The infirmary monitored them, kept them under observation and gave them medications as needed. They also provided walk-in assistance for minor injuries. Alanna watched a nurse talk to a new resident about proper nutrition for her children, something the haggard, poorly educated woman had never had the chance to learn.

As she proved herself a willing and capable asset throughout the day, many residents became friendlier toward her. The few male staff were courteous and not flirtatious, keeping that pressure away from the residents, many of those having experienced only the ugliest side of sexual interest. Alanna found it especially heartbreaking to watch the children. Though instinctively desiring the balance male energy could provide, they watched the men with uncertain eyes. The male staff treated them with calm affection, helping them take those first steps toward trust again.

The environment was designed to be safe, nurturing. It was the self-contained comfort of a mother’s womb, occasionally punctuated by the expected squabbles, reminding her of the women’s hall of the InhServ training institute. The conflicts here were resolved with mostly good humor, everyone sensitive to the more nervous temperaments of newer arrivals, women who kept their children close, still unsure of their welcome.

She thought of Stephen invading this environment, bringing all the terror and darkness a vampire could command. Reminding herself she had to trust her Master’s judgment, she recalled Nerida’s words. Our gates aren’t for us to hide behind. They’re to better defend and protect what’s here. From the dangerous flash in the female vampire’s eyes, she’d enforced the words when necessary.

It was midafternoon when she saw Niall. He was repairing one of the cottage roofs with another man, a stocky redhead whose upper body was covered in freckles and muscles. The two of them had already stripped the shingles and were putting down tar paper.

Putting aside the festering issues she had from his night with Mel, she enjoyed the casual grace and virile strength Niall exuded doing the demanding physical task. He wore a faded pair of jeans and rubber-soled work shoes, his T-shirt hanging on a bush. When he saw her below, he sent her a warm smile that lit up her heart, foolish creature that she was.

“There she is. Muirnín, could ye bring me and Frank some o’ that fresh-squeezed lemonade over at the canteen? Get yourself a glass as well. ’Tis the best thing you’ll ever taste.”

She nodded, went to do his bidding. Mel was there, having a late lunch with some others. The Native American woman noticed her arrival, however. She gave Alanna a short nod that, while not unfriendly, was a clear assessment. Alanna was likely the top security risk in the compound right now. She was determined not to cause Mel a problem, though. She didn’t want the compound’s resources channeled toward her protection, when they had far more important priorities.

Was the woman carrying Niall’s scent between her legs this morning? Did she have a faint abrasion on her smooth, high cheekbone, left by the friction of Niall’s jaw as he thrust into her body?

So what if she did? That was Niall’s right. If Stephen had come to her, his cock dripping from another woman’s orgasm, and bade her suck him clean, her job was to respond with enthusiasm, making it as stimulating for him as he desired and more.