The Jewel Read online

  Stefan was the first to sense their arrival. He stood and turned away from whatever game had grabbed their attention with an odd, almost amused expression. One by one, the men he called brothers did the same.

  An ominous chill ran the length of his spine.

  All the faces looking back at him were familiar. And yet, there was another energy in the room. Something vibrant and powerful. Something that made his heart pound and the blood rush through his veins. The only other time that had happened was when he had entered Andrei’s grand ballroom and spotted Gemma ...

  No! His mind railed as the wound on his soul opened anew at the reminder.

  He turned on his heel and made for the door, unwilling and unable to relive the loss of his beloved once again. He would not, could not, allow them to see his weakness.

  “Viktor.”

  The softly spoken voice stopped him at the door. He closed his eyes and willed back the pain. How cruel were they to do this? Certainly, his training had been necessarily brutal, but it had always served a purpose. Was this yet another test to prove he was capable of performing his duties?

  Rage, hot and deadly, boiled beneath his skin. At that moment, he hated them all, himself most of all. He needed to get out of there before he said or did something truly unforgivable.

  “Viktor.” This time the voice was accompanied by a light touch on his arm.

  Jerking away, he hissed a warning and closed his eyes, desperately seeking the well of deadly calm that had been his center for more than five hundred years.

  The voice had sounded like Gemma’s. The delicate fragrance wrapping around him even smelled like Gemma. But his Gemma was dead, gone forever, having sacrificed herself a second time so he could live.

  “Viktor, beloved, look at me.”

  He opened his eyes slowly, his heart stilling when he gazed upon her face.

  It was a trick. A mirage. The product of a traumatized brain incapable of handling the truth. And yet, she seemed so real.

  “Dearest Viktor,” she said softly, a gentle smile lifting her lips. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Mirage or not, he didn’t care. Between one heartbeat and the next, he grabbed her with both arms and carried her away to his rooms with the speed of his kind. If he was mad, so be it. He would lock himself away and live out what little time he had left in this fantasy until they came to put him down.

  “It’s not possible,” he whispered, burying his face in golden silk. “You’re gone. I watched you burn ...”

  “Yes. You saved me, Viktor.”

  And just like that, the truth began to dawn.

  He pulled away only far enough to look at her face. “You’re a phoenix?”

  Viktor looked down into Gemma’s face, a face he had thought to never see again. He was afraid to believe it. Her touch helped.

  She stroked his back and shoulders with gentle caresses, at once familiar and calming. “Half-phoenix,” she corrected.

  “Your father,” he guessed.

  She nodded. “I believe so, yes. No one was more surprised than me when I woke up naked in a pile of ash. Well”—she chuckled—“except maybe Constantin.”

  “Constantin?”

  “Yes. He was gathering the ashes, thinking you might want them someday.”

  The enormity of what she was telling him broke through the fog. “That was a year ago.”

  “Yes.” She fixed him with a stern look. “You’ve been pointedly ignoring your sire’s summonses. Constantin even sent Stefan and Alexander out on numerous scouting missions, but apparently, no one can find you when you don’t want to be found.”

  Viktor thought back to all the times he had felt the tug of Constantin’s will calling him. Of the times he had sensed his brethren and fled, thinking to avoid his return as long as possible. An entire year of heartache and grief that could have been avoided. His grip tightened.

  “So, you’ve been alive, waiting, all this time?”

  “Yes. Pining away my days and nights, impatiently waiting for you to hold me in your arms again.” She smiled, pressing a kiss to his throat. “But Constantin and the others have been keeping me busy.”

  Viktor stiffened, a hiss escaping his lips at the thought of another touching his Gemma.

  Gemma laughed softly, the sound like music to his ragged soul. “Not like that. They’ve been trying to help me learn more about my father, and about phoenixes in general. We haven’t had much luck so far, unfortunately. In the meantime, they’ve been training me.”

  “Training you?” His brow creased. “Training you for what?”

  “Why, to be your partner, of course.”

  “My partner ...” he murmured in wonder.

  “Yes. Your partner in all things.”

  “Mmm ... I like the sound of that.”

  * * *

  Gemma pressed her lips to the column of his throat and began to work at the buttons of his shirt. He shivered when her nails scraped lightly against his skin.

  She hummed against his chest, pushing the material off his shoulders and down his arms. Then she let her hands roam and caress, delighting in the way his hard ridges and dips quivered beneath her touch.

  How she had missed this, missed him. The past year had been torture, knowing he was out there suffering and unable to reach him. But now he was here, and she was never letting him go again.

  “Gemmalyn ...” Large hands cupped her face and tilted it upward to meet his mouth. Softly at first, a tender brush of firm male lips, before he deepened the kiss, and with that kiss, a torrent of love and desire crashed over her.

  “I need you, Viktor.” Simple words, but they were all she needed to say.

  His hands left her face, and then he began to divest her of her clothing, his actions every bit as fervent as when they had been two young lovers, trysting in the glen.

  A sharp nail sliced through the silk of her blouse then paused.

  “What is it, Viktor?” she asked.

  “I’ve never seen you in one of these before,” he said huskily, gently scraping a finger along the outline of her bra.

  “Do you like it?”

  “Yes.”

  A moment later, scraps of satin and lace floated to the floor, his large hands taking their place. Holding the heavy weight of her breasts in his palms, he stroked his thumbs over her nipples, his eyes glistening in approval as they hardened instantly.

  “I’ve never seen you in these before, either.” A few quick, wrenching tugs and her leather training trews joined her bra on the floor. “Or this.” He ran his finger along the string of her thong. “I like this.” Then it, too, was gone.

  She stood fully naked before him, soaking in his attention like a thirsty plant seeks water. Many men had looked upon her with lust in their eyes, but none had ever looked at her like Viktor. Not only was there burning desire, but a soul-deep love that was the stuff of myth and legend.

  “Now it’s my turn,” she purred, pushing the shirt from his shoulders and allowing her fingers to stroke his arms along the way. She caressed his chest, too, skimming over the surface with relish as she worked her way downward.

  Though he kept himself still, lean muscles tensed and relaxed beneath her touch.

  Gemma went down smoothly on one knee, a bolt of feminine appreciation shooting down into the apex of her thighs as she took in the large bulge behind his pants. She pressed a kiss there as she reached up to unfasten them and pull them downward.

  She sucked in a breath when he sprang free, unable to resist taking him in her hands and giving him another kiss. And a lick. Or two.

  No longer the boy she had once loved, his body was honed to perfection, the body of the lethal predator he was now. Gemma resolved to lick and kiss every inch until it was recommitted to memory.

  “Gemma ...” he warned, tugging at her hair.

  As much as she wanted to stay there to play and savor, she understood.

  She rose in a slow glide, stroking her body against his alo
ng the way until they stood skin to skin, bodies pressed together, hands eager to relearn the feel of one another.

  Viktor lifted her and carried her over to his bed, crawling in beside her and pulling her close as he conducted his own study.

  She had changed, too. Her body was firmer, the human imperfections—a mark here, a scar there—long gone. Not only was she vampire, but over the years, she had assumed some of the more desirable characteristics from other races, as well.

  For the first time since her turning, she actually felt beautiful.

  Because Viktor made her feel that way.

  He left her mouth and gazed at her breasts, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire. “You haven’t changed,” he whispered. “You are still the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  He plumped her breast, then drew the pebbled tip into his mouth and sucked. The sensation ripped through her. Her back arched, pushing her farther into his mouth, breaking skin as she caught the razor-sharp tip of fang. Viktor groaned as he swirled his tongue over the puncture and drew her blood into his mouth.

  “So sweet. And all mine,” he crooned.

  He lapped at one breast, then marked the other and did the same. It felt wonderful. He felt wonderful, but she needed more. She needed the feel of him deep inside, loving her, finding his pleasure.

  “Viktor, please.”

  He lifted his head. Pale gold, once rich topaz, gazed at her with enough intensity to bring her to the edge. “Tell me what you want, Gemma.”

  Once, she would have blushed and shied away from answering, but she was no longer that naive young girl. “The same thing you do. Your cock,” she told him bluntly. “Inside me. Thrusting deep enough to hit my womb and hard enough to break this bed.”

  He laughed softly, but his eyes blazed with promise as he moved his body to loom over hers. The tip of his manhood kissed her sex, then pressed against her clit, nearly making her come right then and there.

  “Is this what you want?” He rocked his hips slightly, enough to torture, enough to tease.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  She allowed her nails to elongate, then gripped his ass and used her great strength to pull him downward, tilting her hips in the process. They both groaned in ecstasy when he slid deep, stretching and filling her in a single stroke.

  “So brazen,” he hissed, lifting enough to slam back with a punishing thrust that threatened to send her into immediate orgasm. “I like it.”

  “Good. Then don’t stop. And Viktor?”

  “Yes, my beloved?”

  “Don’t hold back.”

  He grinned wickedly, then began pumping his hips. Solid, thorough strokes meant to mark and claim. Strokes that increased in tempo and intensity as together, they raced toward bliss.

  She cocooned them both in magic, fully opening her thoughts and emotions, allowing him to feel everything she was feeling. He gasped in wonder as the force of her burgeoning climax bore down upon her, pounding harder and faster until they both soared over the edge.

  Gemma felt Viktor’s fangs slide into her neck as the first jet pulsed inside her, causing a second, even more powerful, orgasm to piggyback off the first. With each pull of his mouth, he continued to fill her with heat until they were both spent.

  Viktor laid his forehead against hers and sighed. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” he vowed.

  That sounded perfect to her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Gemma grinned. “Your sire grows impatient.” Joined as they were in heart, mind, and body, she could feel the subtle tug of Constantin’s call on him.

  He groaned, causing her grin to widen.

  It had been several days since Viktor had whisked her up to his quarters. Days spent together in each other’s arms, selflessly giving and greedily taking pleasure. If he had his way, they would remain here indefinitely. He hadn’t begun to satisfy his craving for her, and he doubted he ever would. Reclaiming the years they had lost was impossible, but he would do everything in his power to ensure the next five hundred years made up for them.

  “Come, Viktor.” She laughed, poking at his ribs playfully. “Duty calls.”

  “Satisfying you is my duty,” he growled, rolling her beneath him.

  She rolled them right back over, straddling his cock and riding him to completion. It seemed that after half a millennium of celibacy, she was every bit as insatiable as he.

  When finished, she leaned over and licked the seam of his lips. “That should hold me for an hour or two, so no more excuses.”

  He growled, nipping her lip and landing a possessive smack on her bottom. “All right. But I reserve the right to drag you into the shadowy recess of my choosing and have my wicked way with you at any point.”

  “Duly noted. Now let’s go see what your sire wants.”

  Viktor held Gemma’s hand as they walked toward Constantin’s grand library, receiving a few raised eyebrows and knowing smirks along the way. After feeling nothing for centuries, this new lightness in his chest was going to take a bit of getting used to.

  “Viktor, Gemmalyn, please sit.” In an old-fashioned, chivalrous gesture, Constantin stood as Gemma entered the room and remained standing until she was seated.

  “I would inquire as to your well-being, but I see that is unnecessary,” he said with a slight quirk to his lips before growing serious. “Gemmalyn, have you made your decision?”

  Curious, Viktor glanced at Gemma and saw her nod.

  “I have.”

  “What decision?” he asked.

  Constantin shared a surprised look with Gemma. “You haven’t told him?”

  “No, not yet.” A smile ghosted across her lips. “We’ve been busy ... catching up.”

  “Tell me what?”

  Constantin sighed audibly, but his eyes were sparkling. “Viktor, you are holding the hand of the current vampire lord of North America.”

  Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn’t been that.

  “Vampire lord of North America,” he murmured. Gemma’s flush deepened under Viktor’s gaze. Awe and pride filled him, as well as a healthy dose of confusion. “I’m not sure I understand,” he said slowly.

  “A few days after Gemmalyn’s unexpected rise from the ashes, it didn’t take long for the council to realize that Andrei had been just a figurehead. Gemmalyn was the real power behind the throne, if you will. It was she who had quietly forged alliances and brought peace to the region. She who ensured their people were treated fairly, and who dealt swift, decisive justice when necessary. Because of that, and because of their unusual partnership, the council agreed that Gemmalyn was entitled to all of it—the title, the holdings, the assets.” Constantin’s lips curved up at the edges. “It was quite a shock when she refused.”

  “You did what?” Viktor asked, bemused.

  “Turned them down,” Gemma confirmed. “I walked away. The only thing I cared about was finding you. But then Constantin took me aside and strongly advised me not to make any hasty, emotionally charged decisions. I didn’t want to listen, but he assured me that you would return when you were ready, even when all attempts to reach you went unanswered.”

  She paused and squeezed his hand. The love in her eyes was nearly his undoing. “He was right, of course. Handing it all over to the council without thinking things through would have been a mistake. There were a lot of unanswered questions, and it made sense to let the dust settle and review all options carefully. Whether the council recognizes me as the rightful successor or not, there are many who will not be as accepting. They continue to believe that Andrei ruled alone, and that I was simply a consort.”

  “Because no one could know of your true gift,” Viktor guessed.

  “Exactly,” she agreed. “A half-phoenix, they can accept. A half-phoenix who can also siphon the powers of others and make them her own? Not so much. I think some might suspect there’s more beneath the surface, as Constantin did, but there’s nothing I can do about that. To substantiate it would
throw things into turmoil. Leaders would question whether their decisions were made under undue influence. Stable alliances would become unstable. Doubt and suspicion would threaten the peace. Most of it would not be good, neither for us nor our people. Accepting the council’s decision provided the comfort of constancy. You know as well as I do that immortals are not particularly keen on change.”

  Viktor let her words sink in. When he thought toward their future and what it would entail, he hadn’t envisioned his beloved carrying the responsibility of an entire continent of subjects on her shoulders. Not that he doubted she could do it and do it well. After all, she had been doing so behind the scenes for centuries, whether anyone realized it or not.

  What he was not particularly fond of was having to share her with so many others, especially not after just finding her again. It was selfish, certainly, but it was the truth. A vampire lord carried a staggering amount of responsibility, and being among Constantin’s closest advisors, he had seen firsthand the demands of the position. It was not conducive to his hopes of hoarding the majority of Gemma’s time, focus, and attention.

  Unfortunately, this was not all about him and his selfish desire to have Gemma all to himself. Fate had brought them together again, and that was the really important thing. He would spend the rest of his days at Gemma’s side, whether that be here in his modest rooms at Constantin’s castle or as the man behind the vampire lord of North America.

  Gemma and Constantin continued to speak. Caught up in his own racing thoughts, he vaguely absorbed words like “resignation,” “relocation,” and “sorely missed.”

  A knot formed in his stomach. Until very recently, he hadn’t considered doing anything besides working for Constantin, or of calling any place, other than the raw, stark mountains of Romania, his home. He had taken his place and his position here for granted, assuming they, like him, would always be there. Now that he was actually feeling things again, he realized just how much this place and these people meant to him.