Dark Journey. Susan Krinard

nothing,” she whispered, “except to prove that I—”

      He caught her lips with his, pressing his palm against her breast. There was no hesitation in him now. His tongue plunged inside her mouth, and she felt for the table behind her, her knees going weak. He cradled her head in the crook of his arm while he stroked her nipple with his other hand, kissing her mouth and her throat and her shoulder.

      Then she noticed the thick scar tissue on his neck, the residue of hundreds of bites never properly healed. She flinched, sickened by the implications of those scars. Not only had he been bitten hundreds of times, but the Opiri who had used him hadn’t bothered to mend the wounds they left in his flesh. It would have been a simple matter of altering the chemicals in their saliva to close the wounds and set them to healing.

      But Daniel didn’t seem to notice her concern. He swept her up in his arms, carrying her easily to the narrow bed. He laid her down and immediately knelt over her, his eyes clouded with hunger. A moment later his mouth was on her nipple, licking and then suckling it while he eased his body over hers. She parted her thighs and arched up against him, moaning deep in her throat.

      He kissed her again and slid his hand down her belly to the moistness between her legs. He knew exactly what to do, and in seconds she was gasping, at the mercy of her body’s reaction as if she had never known such sensations before. Daniel knew she had surrendered; he pinned her arms above her head, almost tenderly, and kissed his way down her body from breast to hip, pausing only for a moment before his mouth found the center of her pain and pleasure.

      His tongue was an expert tool, licking and exploring, making her tremble violently in anticipation. When he dipped it inside her, all she could think of was taking the rest of him, drawing him in, feeling him moving and thrusting and carrying her to the heights.

      As if he’d read her thoughts, he slid his body up over hers and braced himself on his arms. He looked into her eyes and brushed a strand of her hair away from her lips.

      “How long has it been?” he asked gently.

      Isis didn’t want to talk. But she felt him waiting for her answer, withholding himself until she gave it up as she gave up her body.

      “Not...since I came to Tanis,” she whispered. “I must...remain apart...”

      “Why?”

      “It is my place...to guide them, show them...the way to live in peace and harmony.”

      “Humans?”

      “They...they need—”

      Suddenly his warmth vanished, the weight of his body gone as he rolled away. Instinctively she closed her legs and covered her chest as if she herself were a serf on the block, ready for claiming.

      “I am honored that you chose to suspend your noble chastity with me,” he said from across the room, “but I wouldn’t want to interfere with your work.”

      She sat up, meeting his steady gaze with shattered dignity, stung by emotions that had seemed so distant for so many centuries: wounded pride, regret, confusion.

      But she could not let him see. He must not know how deeply she felt his rejection. The rejection of a human, who should have been grateful—

      No, she thought. That was the old way, the wrong way. This small error in judgment changed nothing: not her commitment to aiding the humans of Tanis, nor her attitude toward Daniel. It would be as if this had never happened.

      She would learn who and what Daniel was, why he should have such power to make her forget herself so completely. She would learn his weakness.

      Rising from the bed, she gathered up her robes and pulled them on, letting them hang loose.

      “I thank you for reminding me of my purpose,” she said. “I will not make such a mistake again.”

      To her surprise, Daniel looked away. He turned and walked into the bathroom, and for the first time Isis saw the other scars he carried on his body: the raised pink and brown welts from numerous savage beatings crisscrossing his back, and lower, layer upon layer.

      Ill and dizzy, Isis reached for the bed table. Memories. He carried them with him every day, and he could never escape their mark.

      Someone tapped on the door behind her. She fastened her robes and opened the door.

      “Lady,” the human attendant said, color rising in his cheeks. “I have the visitor’s clothes. Should I come back at another—”

      “No.” She smiled at him, and his body relaxed. “I am just leaving.” She took the clothes from him and laid them across the bed. Daniel had not emerged from the bathroom when she left.

      Still bewildered by the intensity of her feelings—the lust, the fascination, the pity—she gave brief instructions to the guards and sought her own quarters. Unlike most of her peers among the Nine, she preferred to live near the humans with whom she spent so much of her time, in a fifth-floor apartment that held little of the extravagance some high-ranking Opiri enjoyed.

      Supposedly, such ranks did not exist in Tanis, and most Opir citizens preferred to live in the towers under the half dome. It was only sensible, since they could not tolerate sunlight.

      Once in her apartment, Isis bathed and dressed in fresh robes. Daniel’s earthy scent had become entangled with the fabric, and she instructed her maid to have them washed as soon as possible.

      She sipped the blood from her small personal store and found it almost unpalatable. Of course there was no comparison to taking fresh blood from its source, but that was considered a transaction between two private individuals and carefully regulated.

      Had Daniel known that, when he mocked her about being hungry for his blood? Did he think she would take it without his express consent?

      Her mouth went dry as she thought about what he had done and how tempted she would have been if he had completed the act. If she had so much as touched his neck with her lips...

      But that had not happened, she reminded herself. Nor was there any chance of it happening in the future. She would simply find someone else to finish questioning him.

      Gathering her composure about her like a heavy day coat, she prepared herself for the meeting of the Nine. She was in no mood to deal with Ereshkigal’s sullen manner or Anu’s arrogance, but it couldn’t be helped. The Elders of Tanis had set policy for the city, and though they did not enact or enforce laws, their opinions had weight with the elected Council of ordinary Opiri and humans. She must be there because she was one of the Nine most personally sympathetic to humans and most protective of their dignity.

      She laughed quietly. Had she respected Daniel’s dignity? Was she so unaware of her own flaws that a human must point them out? Was she so careless with her power, so accustomed to the influence that she didn’t even realize she was still using it?

      “It’s part of what you are,” Daniel had said. But giving guidance was not the same as ruling like a true goddess. The one was necessary; the other was lost in her ancient past.

      Still struggling with her conflicting emotions, she called for a shuttle that would carry her through the human sector to the rear of the city and the towers of the Opiri. As always, she felt as if she were entering a different world; as always, it troubled her deeply. There should be no dividing line between Tanis’s human citizens and its Opiri, and yet the half dome’s shadow was that line. There were times when both races, and the half-bloods, were expected to mingle—as in the forthcoming Games and Festival—but there was always a guardedness, especially on the part of the humans.

      Isis had never ceased to hope that would change.

      The driver left her at the bottom of the spiraled ramp that reached from ground level to the base of the main tower and the elevated causeway that circled the city. The old Citadel had originally been built with three elevators for each of its six towers, with a single elevator serving a powerful Bloodmaster’s Household and the other two assigned to several smaller Households of influential Bloodlords and