King Herleifr was elderly. He looked nearly seventy, so Taylor scaled his age to somewhere around the mid or late fifties for this era. Perhaps a bit younger, if disease had been unkind to him. But he was hearty for his age and there was nothing wrong with his mind.
With Queen Ingvild’s permission, Marit presented Taylor to the King as a cousin from a neighboring kingdom. As an afterthought, Marit present Tyra’s husband, Veris, who bowed from his position at the back of the big fire burning in the center of the room.
Herleifr nodded at Veris before turning his gaze back upon Taylor. “Most remarkable,” he murmured. He glanced at his wife, who sat upon the much smaller throne several steps down below the tier his grand chair was placed upon. “Have you ever seen such beauty before?”
Taylor glanced at Marit, who was smiling with a self-satisfied expression, standing next to the queen. She had predicted this. She had also warned Taylor not to argue with the king. Taylor could feel the need to explain pushing at her lips and gritted her teeth.
How could she tactfully tell these people that where she came from she was considered quite average? That her height and bone structure were the result of generations of genetic adaptation and selection for “attractiveness” over “breeding stock” that had been a luxury that mankind had enjoyed for the last two hundred years?
Or that it was the benefit of clean water, healthy diets and modern chemicals that made her skin look like it did?
But she couldn’t explain any of it. So Taylor stayed silent. She found herself gripping the edges of the cloak Marit had draped about her shoulders as the finishing touches to her court dress, her palms abruptly sweaty.
The cloak was made of a material more finely woven than any of the rough garments she had seen today, as they had walked through the cluster of fifty or so round huts, stables and animal shelters that made up the tiny town clustering thickly up against the stout walls of the king’s hall.
The hall itself was surprisingly stately. It was made of massive, well-hewn and crafted local trees and built to withstand just about anything but fire. With roots tapping the rock shelf it was built upon and branches running back into the mountain it perched upon, the king’s hall was a fine fortress that had stood for five generations and continued to grow with each succeeding generation.
Tonight the giant oak doors stood open to guests and lights blazed from the unglazed windows. The king was entertaining.
The dress Taylor wore to honor the King and his guests was clearly expensive and one of Marit’s best. The underdress was white and there was not a lot of material to spare around her breasts. It clung to her until it reached her hips, giving her enough room to walk—and dance, Marit had explained. It was about four inches longer at the back than the front, forming a simple train and had long sleeves and a simple round neck with beautiful white embroidery.
Over the top of the underdress Taylor wore a deep blue apron dress. It had straps going over each shoulder like a sundress, that fastened with two blue jewels just above each breast. Hanging between each jewel were two chains, one longer than the other. Swinging from the longer chain was a small bronze pendant of a dragon. The apron dress was also form-fitting and surprisingly flattering, especially when Marit fastened a thick leather belt around Taylor’s waist, pulling it in firmly. There was a small leather pouch hanging from the belt from two short tabs. A third loop hung empty.
“That’s for your dagger,” Marit said as if it was obvious, when Taylor fingered the loop.
Taylor held back from saying she was left-handed. It was possible left-handedness was a sign of the devil here.
The cloak was the final layer—a soft wool that seemed to be cool or warm just as Taylor needed it to be. It didn’t scratch at all, which she expected it to. It was long, as long as the white underdress.
Marit had left Taylor’s hair alone. “I can’t improve upon it,” she said simply.
Now the king pushed himself out of his chair and stepped down onto the broad step Taylor stood upon. He was only as tall as she was and wore no crown. But his tunic was white and embroidered at the neck and his boots were whole and clean. He wore a short cloak around his shoulders and there were matching gems where a chain held it together at the neck. Short fur edged it.
The king studied her closely. “There is no artifice about your beauty,” he said shortly. “It is quite natural. How lovely.” He sighed. “Marit teases me with possibilities that are quite beyond my reach.”
He held out his hand to her.
Startled, Taylor looked toward Marit. Now what?
Marit was smiling. She was enjoying Taylor’s discomposure. When she saw Taylor’s glance in her direction, she lifted her hand upward. Take his hand, she seemed to be saying.
Taylor hesitantly took the king’s offered hand. The man’s grip was firm despite his apparent frailty. She glanced over her shoulder, back toward Veris.
“Ah, you are right,” the king murmured. “You should ask your husband’s permission first. Go ahead.”
“Forgive me, my lord,” Taylor said. “I am unaccustomed to your ways here. I am not even sure what it is I seek permission for from my husband.”
“Why, to accompany me to the table and after, to dance. That is all. I am long past the age where anything more is required of you. You may even sit next to your husband during the meal as I have political guests to entertain tonight and they will not speak in your presence.” He nodded toward a group of dour warriors standing off to one side, their arms crossed over their chests, wearing beards and swords and shaggy hair. “I must keep them entertained and woo them so that my borders are safe, you understand?” he said softly, so his voice did not carry.
“Perfectly,” she said just as softly. “But wouldn’t more womanly charms put them at their ease…soften them up for you?”
He laughed. “You are a delight! Alas, those tough old war dogs are moved by nothing less than money or power. The softer charms ceased to touch their souls a long time ago. They’ll have to reckon with the gods when they reach Valhalla for such an oversight, I’m thinking. The gods didn’t place the gentler arts on the earth only to have them ignored. Come, let us lead this kingdom of mine to dinner and let them gorge. I look forward to dancing with you, Tyra of the godlike beauty. You are a breath of fresh air.”
“Thank you, Highness.”
He turned her and led her down the steps. “Your husband’s name is…Veris, yes?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“He is not a native of your kingdom, is he?” Herleifr said as they swept past the surly visitors and on down the broad steps to the round room at the foot.
“No, he was not born there,” Taylor said.
The room was filled with people standing and watching their king greet and escort her to the dining tables. In the middle of the large rounded area was a huge fire pit. Kitchen staff were busy preparing last minute dishes over the edges of the fire.
As the king walked Taylor across the floor, the crowd made way silently, letting them through.
On the other side of the room, long tables and benches had been set up and the meal was being laid out as the king approached.
Veris stood waiting just before the tables. Taylor could see wariness in his eyes, even though he was wearing an affable, pleasant expression for everyone else. His hand was resting on the pommel of the sword strapped to his hip. It looked casual. She knew otherwise.
He had changed from the foreign-looking European clothes to more local garments, so that he could blend in. Now he looked like someone who belonged here. She corrected the impression in her mind. Veris looked like he might have looked in the real past, before he left. He wore boots, pants and an embroidered tunic over an under tunic. From the thick leather belt hung a leather money pouch. His sword belt crossed over it. Because he was in the king’s court, he’d left off the chain mail and other armor and accoutrements a warrior would normally wear. But he had wide leather cuffs on each wrist and a bronze torc about his neck.
Taylor’s heart skipped a beat. This was Veris in his native element. Väinä at home.
She found herself smiling at him. She couldn’t help it.
“Then it truly is a love match,” the king said. “That expression on your face says more than the best storyteller in the world could ever explain.”
Taylor jerked her gaze away from Veris and back to the king. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I wasn’t paying attention to you.”
The king smiled. “There is nothing to forgive, child,” he said. “For see? We are already at our destination.” He lifted her hand and placed it in Veris’.
“Thank you, Highness,” Veris said.
“Your wife is lovely beyond compare. You’re aware of that, I can tell by the way your hand hovers by your sword,” Herleifr said softly. “Or is it, rather, your discomfort in being back in this hall once more, Väinämöinen?”
Veris grew still, his gaze locked with the king’s.
“I am old,” the king said, still speaking softly. “But not old enough to forget faces, even though both fifteen years and the lad have gone and now a man stands in his place.”
Taylor stepped in front of Veris and faced the king. “My lord—” she said, also keeping her voice down.
“No, Tyra,” Veris protested and thrust her aside.
The king held up his hand. It was meant as a signal for peace, but the heel of his hand thumped into Veris’ chest. There was a collective gasp of surprise around them.
The king thrust his foot backward, trying to push Veris back. “Stop, you fool,” he hissed. “Do you really want to die tonight?”
“Veris, for heaven’s sake, please, think it through,” Taylor pleaded, tugging on his arm as he stood over the king. He was thrumming with tension. Had he forgotten he was mortal right now and surrounded by men wielding swords, men that were loyal to the king? Quite likely, yes.
“No one will come to my aid until I ask for it,” the king added. “Such is my reputation. To them I am utterly strong, invincible and need assistance from no man unless I choose it. At the moment, they simply watch me deal with you, believing only that you are angry because I desire your wife. It can remain that way…Veris. But if you insist on taking this path then it will no longer be a small matter of pride over a woman. Do you understand?”
After a moment Veris stepped back from the king. He was shaking.
Taylor realized she was, too.
Herleifr straightened his sleeves. “My queen dotes upon Marit. She is the daughter my wife never had. Marit would not be the woman she is today if someone had not intervened in her life fifteen years ago and changed her fortunes. Because my queen is grateful for that blessing, I am grateful.” He adjusted his cloak. “Enjoy your supper.” He walked away with a swirl of cloth.
Taylor threw her arms around Veris’ neck and clung to him, despite their public location. She was trembling badly enough that she had to clamp her jaws together to stop her teeth from chattering.
Veris’ lips pressed against the nape of her neck, then slid up to her ear. “I could have cheerfully killed the bastard for touching you. God, Taylor, I’m so full of emotions, I’m almost drunk with them.”
Taylor dropped back to her feet and tugged on his wrist. “Come and eat,” she said. “Come on. You need food and drink, and you need to relax. Your body is a chemical factory now. You’re not use to it anymore. Every emotional reaction you have is also a chemical reaction inside you. You’re chewing up juices and your metabolism probably just dropped dead over this.” She pushed him toward the table.
“I know that.” He frowned. “I know that,” he said softly, wondering. “Basic biology.”
“Dry academics,” she whispered back. “You learned it in a book. Long after you were made and long after you’d forgotten what it was like to be human.” She found a space at one of the long tables and pointed to it. “Will this do, my husband?” she said more loudly.
Some of the men at the table looked at Veris with alarm.
Veris sat down in the empty space and looked at the man closest to him. “Make room for my wife.”
The man shuffled over, making more than plenty of space for Taylor. Taylor sat down with a nod of thanks.
Veris picked up the cup of wine placed in front of him and stared at the golden liquid inside.
Taylor picked up her cup and touched it to Veris’. “To your good health, my husband.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes,” he muttered and brought the cup to his lips and slowly drank a mouthful.
The mead tasted watery yet strong to Taylor’s westernized and retail-and commercially-packed-food-trained palette. She waited for Veris to swallow. He lowered the cup to the table and looked at her. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I thought I had forgotten, but I find it’s all coming back. Like riding a bicycle.”
He turned to his plate eagerly.
* * * * *
THERE WAS NO FORMAL BEGINNING to the music and dancing. It seemed that as soon as bellies began to fill, minds turned to other distractions. The first hint of entertainment was the thrumming of a drumbeat far in the background, as the diners were nearing the end of the long meal. Despite the plain, well-cooked fare, these people ate with gusto. The drumbeat in the background barely checked their enthusiastic chomping.
Then a pipe joined it in a merry tune as they nodded their heads or tapped their feet. A low horn came next.
Abruptly, a man sprang to his feet, a cup of mead in hand, to the cheers and calls of those around him. He grabbed the arm of a woman nearby and hauled her to her feet. He spun her in a series of looping, somewhat graceful circles that seemed to be more or less in time with the beat of the music. Everyone else clapped along with him, while the music settled down into a distinct dance tune.
Other couples joined him around the fire.
Veris grasped Taylor’s hand. “This, I’ve always known how to do.” He climbed from the bench and tugged on her arm. His face was flushed from the wine and food.
“You?” Taylor said, amazed. It was always Brody who danced with her. Veris occasionally partnered her when there was a Viennese waltz because he loved the graceful rhythm, but that was about all. She looked at the energetic swooping and whirling happening next to the fire with amazement. “Are you sure?” she asked Veris.
He picked her up around the waist and lifted her off the bench. “Stop arguing, woman.”
Taylor found herself laughing as he swept her into the rush of bodies swirling and tapping out the beat with their feet against the floorboards and their hands. Veris laughed, too. It was infectious.
She realized they weren’t the only ones laughing and smiling. Under the beat and sound of the music and the rap of the dancers’ feet on the floor she could hear everyone—dancers and the audience watching them—laughing, calling to each other, shouting encouragement and rude observations about each other which generated further laughter and comments. The mead and wine pitchers were being passed around with even more frequency now that the meal had all but finished.
Everyone knew everyone, despite the large number of people in the hall. It made for ease and familiarity. As two of the handful of strangers there, word had quickly passed as to Taylor and Veris’ public identities. Their acceptance had been smoothed by the king leading Taylor to dinner.
Now they were tacitly part of the village, even if the men were careful to give Veris plenty of elbow room and not jostle him even accidentally.
Between dances, they rested. Veris got his long conversation with Marit during one of them, when his sister settled on the bench beside him and the two sat with their heads almost together and drained a pot of mead between them, oblivious to the people around them.
Veris emerged from that conversation looking both grim and happy at once. But there was a contented air about him and Taylor knew Marit had impressed him—a difficult thing to do with Veris.
It was during one such rest, when Veris was studying Taylor with a brooding look in his eyes she knew well, that made her body warm and her nipples harden against the underdress, that the king appeared in front of them both, looking for his appointed dance with Taylor.
Veris’ jaw rippled as he reached for the mug of mead he had just drained and called for the pot boy. “Of course, my lord,” he told the king. “I am honored.”
Herleifr grinned, the wrinkles at the corners of his very pale blue eyes coming together. “I’m sure,” he said, holding his hand out to Taylor.
Taylor glanced at Veris. “Veris?”
“Go,” he said roughly, concentrating on the mead in his mug. “I’m fine.”
She sighed and let the king take her hand and pull her into the ring of dancers around the fire. Veris turned away, his profile to the fire, which bothered her.
Herleifr was a sedate dancer, using none of the lifting and tossing the younger dancers were doing to show off their vitality and strength. But he kept up with the beat and Taylor had already learned the quick steps and routines, so the vigorous dance left her mind free to worry over Veris’ mood. He wasn’t really jealous of the king, was he?
She glanced toward Veris again when she could and saw that he was watching when he thought she wasn’t looking.
Then he was jealous…or something like it. Taylor knew she couldn’t deal with it until Herleifr released her and let her return to Veris. Meantime, she had to entertain the king.
A few minutes later, much to Taylor’s deep relief, the musicians decided they needed a rest from their labors and put down their instruments. There was a lot of loud complaints and good natured booing. But the dancers returned to their seats to grab drinks, gulp down water and talk to their friends.
The king nodded his head at Taylor. “My thanks, Tyra, but I must return to the dour company I am forced to keep this night.”
“Thank you, my lord, for the dance.”
“You’re a diplomat. I can see why Marit enjoys your company so much. It has been a pleasure meeting you.” The King walked away with a nod to others as he skirted the fire, heading back to the small table sitting on the top tier by his big throne, where the big men sat with impatient scowls.
Taylor turned away, intending to hurry back to Veris.
His space on the bench was empty.
Her heart actually thudded against the inside of her chest, so hard did it leap in fright. She looked around frantically. He was nowhere in sight.
She looked for Marit. Perhaps he had sought his sister out, while waiting for Taylor to finish her dance with the king. But Marit was not in the main hall either. She was not sitting at the top tables with the king and queen and their exalted company. Nor could Taylor spot her long figure amongst the crowd on the main floor.
Taylor tried to keep her panic under control. There were a number of reasons why Veris wouldn’t be in the room, all of them perfect simple. She walked to the tier steps and climbed the first three, which gave her a higher perspective of the room. Then she began to quarter the big hall systematically, looking for Veris among the constantly shifting crowd. It would surely be simple to find him. He was a distinctive figure.
Taylor finally located Marit and realized why she had not noticed her at first. Marit was backed into a dark corner created by a thick wooden pillar and the body of a handsome man who pressed against her. His body was a tight bow and his hand, where it rested flat against the wall by Marit’s head, was braced with tension. He quivered as his lips hovered near the delicate flesh of her neck.
Marit’s mouth parted as she perhaps breathed in the man’s desperation. Then she saw Taylor watching her and she gave a small smile. Her hand lifted in a tiny wave. Acknowledgment.
Taylor smiled back. There was no mistaking who was in control, there. She turned away, giving them privacy. Instead, she looked one last time for Veris. She would have to consider what else to do now. Then she saw him.
Veris stood on the far side of the tables by the big entrance doors. He must have left for a moment or two and just stepped in. He had been watching her. He stood as he often did, with his feet apart and his arms crossed. He’d pushed the sleeves of the tunic up his arms, so that the already-building muscles of this younger Veris swelled by the positioning of his forearms.
Taylor’s heart lifted. Conversation around her faded. She found herself smiling at Veris again. Her feet in their felt slippers stepped back down the stairs and found a way through and around the people as she watched Veris studying her with his brooding, sensual gaze. She walked right up to him and Veris’ big hand settled on the back of her waist, hot and heavy. She shivered.
“Come with me,” he told her.
* * * * *
VERIS THREW A TIED, HEAVY bundle over his shoulder and took Taylor’s hand. “There are roots and fir cones to trip over and break your ankle,” he said. “I may be just human, but I’m still a man and stronger than you, and I know the way.”
“You can take my hand any time you like. You don’t need an excuse.”
Veris glanced at her as he led her into the forest that started right behind the village. He grinned. “Do you think you’re pointing out a weakness, Tyra? You forget where and when you are. Here, a man keeps both hands free when he can because he might have need of them at any moment.”
The forest at night in high summer was softly warm, glowing with light from the moon overhead and dappled with deep shade. It was perfumed with a dozen scents, all of them delicious. Taylor was caught by the unexpected beauty of it and by the utter silence, so completely bereft of any modern noises. There were no nearby highways, no air traffic far above, or power lines, or campers in the distance. There was nothing but the sound of the wind against trees, far overhead, small animals underfoot and their own progress.
“Don’t you recall this and regret the loss?” she asked Veris.
‘“This’?” he repeated.
“All this glorious rustic charm and peace,” she explained. “It’s wonderful.”
“Occasionally. Sometimes. The good stuff, yes,” he said. “But this peace and tranquility came at a price. The cost was mostly bloodshed, ignorance and sheer bloody horror. I mostly don’t mind the compromise we paid for modern living.” He glanced around, looking left and right. “Yes, over here,” he murmured and took a turning in the path that barely appeared to be a path at all.
Taylor gripped Veris’ hand more firmly as the footing grew more treacherous. Branches, cones, leaves and more showed that the path wasn’t as nearly well-trod as the one they had been on. “Are you sure about where you’re going?” she whispered.
“It’s only been sixteen hundred years,” he said. “My memory isn’t that bad.”
“Wonderful,” she muttered.
She heard him chuckle.
Ahead, running water softly sounded. It wasn’t the thunder of a waterfall but a gentle trickling. Then the path opened out as the trees thinned to reveal a tiny lake. It was more like a pond. A well-thrown stone could hit the other side and not get wet. Trees crowded the edges of the water, their roots curling into the moisture like toes dipping into coolness on a hot day. The moonlight silvered the surface of the still water, turning it into a mirror, all except the far side where a tiny stream slid over half-a-dozen boulders, feeding the pond with fresh water. It was the source of the trickle.
There was a pocket-sized area next to the pond, covered with grass and the remains of old fires. Veris and possibly others had been here before.
“Only a few others know of this place and they won’t come here tonight,” Veris told her. He dropped the bundle from his shoulder and untied it swiftly. She watched him work, pulling together wood for the fire and spreading the furs for their bed. He used flint with swift movements to get the fire going while Taylor curled up on the makeshift bed.
“I don’t think anything has really, truly impressed the fact that you were born in this time upon me so much as these last few moments,” she told him as he coaxed the fire to build.
Veris dropped more wood on the fire, then satisfied it would take care of itself for a while, he turned and unbuckled the sword from his waist. He pushed the sword itself into the ground, still within arm’s reach, dropped the scabbard to one side, then stretched himself out on the fur beside her with a sigh. He rolled onto one side and propped his head on one hand. His blue eyes in the moonlight almost glowed.
“I’ve fallen back into the old habits with surprising ease,” he confessed. “You’ve noticed that.”
She nodded.
“It’s like the human body remembers it.”
“Muscle memory,” she supplied.
“Perhaps.” He frowned. “They say you remember best what you learn first.”
“But that’s human memory. You and Brody keep telling me vampire memory is perfect. You remember everything, because your mind is completely unchanging. There’s virtually no memory loss at all.”
Veris nodded, but he was still frowning. “It’s a different quality though. I’ve only realized it now that I’ve come back here and had a chance to compare. Everything is a different quality. Of course, food and drink, for which we have no basis to compare. But I didn’t realize touch was different. Smell. Even pain. Sensations. Everything’s…more alive.”
Taylor stared at him. “More alive?” she repeated.
“Better,” he added.
“Better,” she repeated dumbly. This was the articulate, educated Veris, using “better” as an adjective.
He dropped his gaze and took a deep breath. “Jesus, Taylor. There’s no words for this. If all sensation was put on a scale of one to ten, then vampires feel sensations at level six. I thought humans did, too, but I found out today I was wrong. Humans feel at level eight, maybe nine. I’ve been walking around feeling the brush of your hair against my arm and almost jumping out of my skin. The smell of your shampoo makes me salivate! The shitty cloth they call material here feels wonderful under my fingers—I can feel every fiber and it’s soft. And don’t get me started on embroidery! I made the mistake of touching the top of a lamb’s head this afternoon. Do you know how soft lamb’s wool is?” He screwed his eyes shut. “It’s…overwhelming. Every time I think about how we’re going to get yanked out of here sometime soon, without warning, back to our world, back to feeling plain old dull level six sensations…”
He rolled onto his stomach and rested his forehead on his arm. “That’s a compromise I don’t like,” he said, his voice muffled.
Taylor rested her hand on his shoulder. “Veris, didn’t you stop to think that all this overwhelming sensation is simply normal for humans? You’re just not used to it anymore. We hardly notice all that massive input on a second by second basis. We just focus in on the important signals. You’re trying to process everything and getting bowled over by the traffic jam.”
He was silent for longer than she liked. Finally, he rolled over onto his back, looking up into the night sky. “It’s still far stronger than anything I’ve felt as a vampire, with or without the traffic jam.”
“Only you can judge that,” she said as calmly as possible. “Perhaps that’s the price you have to pay for immortality. There had to be a downside somewhere.”
He turned his head to look at her. “You think watching those you love age and die isn’t a high enough price?” His words were calm, but she heard old wounds, never healed, behind them. She knew then that she could not let Veris wait much longer for her to be turned as their queen had demanded. It would be cruel to leave Brody and Veris dangling, suspended and afraid that she might be snatched from them by some quirk of human fate. Soon, very soon, Taylor would ask them to turn her.
She touched Veris’ lips. “I’m sorry. I’ve made you sad.”
“Agh.” He sat up with a flex of muscle and sinew and turned to her. “Screw sad,” he said roughly. “I want to taste every inch of you while my taste buds are still working as they should.” He pulled her across the fur until she was on her knees before him. “That’s better.” He unhooked her cloak and tossed it away. “I just wish Brody was here.”
“To taste me?”
“To taste you, for me to taste, to tell me what I taste like here. He’d have found the perfect simile for what your mouth tastes like. It’s just not the same as at home. And he’d have waxed lyrical over the food.”
Taylor fought not to giggle as Veris’ tongue slid down her throat, because the image he painted was exactly right. Brody would have so enjoyed the food. He would have been in raptures over it.
But the image faded and her delight with it, as Veris’ hands unbuttoned and unfastened her dress and underdress with swift, sure movements. Her shoes and garments were stripped from her in a few quick movements.
I’ve fallen back into the old habits with surprising ease.
It didn’t surprise her that Veris knew his way around a lady’s undergarments.
She was left, kneeling again, naked on the furs and trembling with anticipation. Her breasts were swollen and the nipples hard-peaked. Her hair brushed the small of her back. Veris thrust his hands into it. “I love your hair like this,” he growled and brought her mouth to his.
Their kiss was explosively hot and frantic. Veris’ tongue speared into her mouth as he held her head steady, exploring deeply. The kiss was different. Arousing, but different from any other kiss Veris had ever given her.
Abruptly, he broke the kiss and gently pulled her head away from his.
“My God…” he breathed. “I have been missing out.” His chest was heaving. “If that was just a simple kiss, heaven help me by the time we are done.”
Then she realized. “No fangs,” she whispered. “You don’t have fangs,” she said more loudly. “It’s not you, not really.”
Veris drew back a little more. “Of course it is.”
She shook her head. “You’re you inside. But you’re not complete. You’re not really, completely Veris that I love if you don’t have the canines, if you don’t have to be careful about hurting me when you kiss me.”
Veris’ gaze dropped from hers.
“I’m sorry,” Taylor added. “I know you adore the level eight sensations and being human, but I want the real you back. I want the old Veris back.”
He lifted his head again. Astonishingly, he was smiling. “I love you, Maggie Taylor Yates.” He kissed her gently on the mouth, like he might if he was being careful with his canines, or just kissing her goodnight. “You have too much wisdom for a human as young as you. You make me feel like a fool and at the same time incredibly grateful I met you.”
He pushed her hair over her shoulder. “We’ll be back in our time soon enough. You’ll have your wish. In the meantime, I intend to finish what I started.” He lowered his head and brushed his lips over her carotid pulse. At any other time, it might have been arousing for Veris to feel the beat of her blood. Now it was only a caress of his lips against her flesh. She shivered.
His hands once more plunged into her hair, stroking it and controlling her head. He pulled her head back gently, extending her throat and giving him access to it. His mouth and tongue moved hotly across her flesh. Human heat. She shivered again, realizing that the heat of his body was keeping her warm despite the chill of the air moving softly across the pond. It was a luxury to feel heat from Veris, but she still wanted the comfort of the familiar. This was alien and a novelty only.
His lips explored lower, sending shivers and ripples across her flesh. As he nibbled and licked across her upper breasts, his hands brought her head back, supporting it. She was lowered down onto the fur, a tight bow with her calves tucked under her and her breasts raised for Veris to feast upon.
He fastened his lips upon one with a growl. His teeth nipped and tugged on the hard and sensitive nipple, as he slid his hands under her back, slowly moving them down to her buttocks.
Taylor gasped, her body blazing with need. There was a wicked wantonness in being utterly naked and writhing on furs in the outdoors while a fully dressed man played with her body.
Veris’ fingers gripped her ass cheeks, separating them, as he moved his mouth to her other nipple. He sucked on it, drawing it into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue.
Taylor moaned as she was swamped with heady, ripe sensations of arousal. She could barely think beyond the need to have Veris’ cock inside her. To be fucked fast. To come as hard as she could.
Her clit was throbbing with need.
She tried to reach for Veris, but her arched position on the furs made it difficult. Veris pushed her arms back down.
His mouth left her breast. The nipple crinkled at the touch of the night wind on its wet tip, making it cold.
Veris pushed her knees as far apart as they could go. She was spread so that her pussy and anus were completely open for Veris to access as he may. Her pussy was weeping fluids.
Veris swept his tongue across her pussy and clit. Taylor cried out, her hips jerking upward.
“Ah…delicious,” he said with a groan and did it again.
Taylor moaned, her head rolling into the fur. She clutched at the fur desperately. “Veris!”
“Music,” he crooned. He sucked her clit into his mouth and at the same time pushed three fingers into her pussy.
Taylor tried to lift herself off the fur in delight, but Veris held her down. His tongue played with her as his fingers worked a different magic. Taylor could feel her orgasm rushing at her at express speed. “Veris, hurry. You… I want you.” She was panting.
But Veris continued his assault unabated. Then his thumb slid into her anus, moistened with her own lubricant and she was lost. Her climax tore through her like a silvered lightning bolt, making her shriek with delight. She could feel herself clenching about Veris’ fingers as she shuddered and came.
The aftereffects of the climax were still lingering when Veris lifted his tunics and undergarments aside, pulled out his cock and pushed it into her with a hard, single driving thrust that made him groan and pause. His hands splayed out next to her head to support him.
“Heat…” he muttered.
“You, too,” she whispered back.
“You’re like a velvet fist around me.” He swallowed. “In many ways, this feels like the first time.”
“In some ways, it is,” she murmured.
“It’s astounding.” He began to thrust again, taking his time. Then even slower.
Taylor could feel her body starting to tremble and respond to the stimulus even though she had just come. Her breathing hastened and her hips flexed. She clenched at the furs, trying to ride it out, to let Veris have his experience. But she shuddered and writhed desperately at his slow, gourmand pace.
“Veris!” she warned.
He gave a low laugh and she knew he’d been aware of her growing desperation all along. He’d been teasing her. Riding her. “Is it that you want to come, Tyra my lovely wife?”
“Damn your eyes! You know I do!” She gasped as he slid back into her, angling himself to kiss her clit with the base of his cock.
He thrust both arms out, his hands on either side of her head. “Well, then,” he said simply. He pushed his cock deep into her. Fast. His blue eyes locked with hers. “Come around me. I want to feel you come again.”
His voice, the low command, his cock inside her, brought her. She climaxed with a harsh cry that Veris smothered with a kiss.
Afterward, he lifted himself up and she realized that he had been careful not to rest much weight on her at all. He helped her un-tuck her strained calves. Then he stood and unbuckled the belt around his waist. “I’ve discovered something else about being human that I’d long forgotten—on a personal basis, anyway.”
“What is that?” she asked, kneading her lower legs back to life.
“Sweat.” He grinned and dropped the belt, then pulled the tunics over his head. He unstrapped the boots quickly and pulled them off, then the leggings and undergarments.
“You don’t have any scars, either,” Taylor observed.
Veris straightened up, dropping the last of his clothes on the pile at his feet. His cock was still ramrod hard and the head was beating against his stomach. She realized that he had not climaxed.
“The scars are yet to come,” Veris said, looking over his shoulder to his back. “I leave the village two days from now and become a mercenary for the highest bidder anywhere, now I know that Marit is truly secure. Scars are part of the trade.” He turned and walked straight into the water with no hesitation about how cold it might be. He hissed a little at the temperature, but that was all.
The pond was deceptively deep. It looked small and shallow but a few steps beyond the shore, Veris sank down to his shoulders. He bathed with quick economy and emerged, streaming water from all over his body. His erection had not survived the dip in the cold water, but there was a light in his eye that told Taylor that was a situation that would soon be remedied.
She sat up as he climbed onto the furs.
“What do you taste like as a human, hmm?” she asked and pushed at his shoulder.
Veris lay down on the furs, letting her push him there. Taylor spread his thighs and snuggled between them and hid her smile as his cock twitched. She ignored it and instead leaned over to slide her tongue over his chin. She was momentarily shocked to feel the rasp of whiskers. Then she licked down his strong neck and throat to his chest.
Veris drew in a breath.
“What?” Taylor asked, hesitating.
“Just more overwhelming sensation,” he told her. “Your tongue, your lips, your hair, your hands, your breath.” He smiled. “The heat of your body, the wind blowing over both of us… Should I continue?”
She laughed. “No.” She bent to her work again, sliding her lips farther down his long body, toward his cock which was now fully erect with anticipation and arousal. His cock was exactly as she knew it to be and Taylor was intimately familiar with Veris’ cock. She slid her lips over the head, letting it stretch her mouth open.
His hand touched her hair. Lightly. She felt his hand tremble.
“Have mercy, Taylor. I’m only human. Finish me quickly,” he begged.
Like he had finished her?
She took her time. After four years, she knew exactly how to drive Veris crazy with her mouth. The seam on the underside of his cock was particularly sensitive for Veris, even when he was a vampire. Now, in human form, it drove him mad. Taylor spent minutes stroking the seam with her tongue as her lips bumped up and down over the ridge of flesh that made the head of his cock. At the same time, she cupped his testicles and reached underneath to stroke his perineum.
Occasionally, she flicked her tongue inside the eye of his cock.
She kept her rhythm nice and slow, enough to have him tugging at the furs and rolling his head back as he made hard, low sounds in the back of his throat, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. He could barely keep still.
When Taylor judged he was close to the point of no return, she spread herself over his hips and lowered herself upon his throbbing, distended cock.
He gave a cry as she slid down upon him, his hands clutching at her hips.
Taylor swiveled her hips, clenching around him.
“Ah dear güd.” Veris thrust up into her. Once, twice and with a shout he came. She could feel his seed spurting into her in hot jets as his hips lifted her.
He fell back onto the fur and Taylor relaxed, but with a growl he flexed up into a sitting position without using his hands, showing the promise of the strength that ten years of mercenary work would bring to the fore. His hands, still on her hips, lifted her and flipped her around so that she was on her hands and knees.
Taylor’s hair fell down around her shoulders. She barely had time to brush it out of her face before Veris spread her knees and his cock slammed back into her, almost as hard and hot as before. Within three thrusts he was hard again. “I’m not done with you yet.” His voice was thick with arousal and just the sound of it was enough to trip off Taylor’s own barely subsided needs. Veris was feeding them, somehow. His insatiable hunger was sustaining her own.
His fingers slipped into her cleft and stroked her clit. Taylor gasped at the electrifying pleasure his touch sent bolting through her. He stroked, making her wriggle and her hips buck. Then, when her climax neared, he changed his thrusts to hard, heavy, deep ones. His fingers on her clit began to gently pull.
Taylor arched her back, threw her head back and screamed as her climax seemed to rip her apart. Veris’ hand gripped her shoulder as he came with her. She could actually feel his cum inside her, pooling in her vagina like molten lava, even as her body disintegrated around him.
She found herself on her knees, her back against Veris’ chest, panting, as she recovered.
Veris turned her chin so he could reach her lips from over her shoulder. His were warm. “One of these days we will resolve this silly marriage issue,” he said.
“We’re already as married as you vampires count it,” she pointed out, tiredness tugging at her.
“I want to be married to you as we humans count it,” Veris replied.
“Not if I can’t be married to Brody as well, and not if you can’t be, too.”
“Brody and I are as married as two people can be,” Veris said.
“Then why can’t that do for you and me?” Taylor asked. She smiled sadly. “Because I’m human?”
Veris looked away.
* * * * *
TAYLOR BLINKED IN THE DARK. There were street lights outside, but it was utterly dark here. She felt stiff and very sore.
“Taylor?” It was Veris somewhere next to her.
“Can you see where we are?” she asked. Her voice was stiff and scratchy.
“We’re on the upstairs library landing. Stay still. You’re all scrunched up with books around you.”
She heard movement. Then light came on. She was lying on the carpet on the upstairs landing, her legs at odd angles, surrounded by half a dozen old books. The same books she had been carrying when they jumped back to Veris’ birthplace in old Norway.
Veris, more able to overcome stiffness, hurried back to help her up and sit her on the padded stool against the wall. “We must have fallen to the floor and laid here for the day and the night we were back there,” Veris said, sitting next to her. “Instead of mimicking movements like we normally do.”
Taylor swallowed. Her throat was very dry. She looked at Veris.
His gaze slid away from hers. He went to get up. “I’ll get you some water.”
“I don’t need water.” She caught at his hand and pulled him back down to the bench. “Veris, stop.”
He sat back heavily. He stared at his hands.
“Veris.”
He closed his eyes. “Marit,” he breathed and put his face in his hands.
Taylor let her tears flow then. Veris wouldn’t have any to shed.
He looked up after a minute and touched her face. “Can you spare some of those for me?”
She nodded. “I thought you might need them.”
He pulled her into his lap and held her tight. “This is another compromise I hate, Tyra.”
“I know, Väinä. I know.”
His breath caught. After a moment, he began to breathe again. And after a while, he had the courage to let her go again.
Neither of them had the courage to tell Brody about that particular jump.