Kira sat back with a gusty sigh. “These rogues, they are bad news. I think I will enjoy helping to stop them.”
Beth smiled at the words. “It can be satisfying work. Especially when you are able to save would-be victims.”
“Da. No doubt.” Kira nodded and then peered at her solemnly and admitted, “I suspected you were not an Argenis by birth. It is your eyes. They are green with gold rather than blue with silver. All Argeneaus, whether they go by the name Argenis, Argent, Argentum, or Argeneau, have blue and silver . . . or at least the silver.”
Beth merely nodded.
“What was your last name before you became Argenis?” Kira asked with interest.
“Sheppard,” Beth answered, surprised to find she had to think to recall it. The name even felt odd on her tongue. But then, she had carried the name Argenis more than twice as long as she had the name Sheppard. And Beth hadn’t felt at all bad at shedding her father’s name in the first place. While she had loved her mother, as far as Beth was concerned, she wanted no reminder or attachment to her father, even in name.
“Our footman’s name was Sheppard,” Odilia said now with surprise, and then added solemnly, “He was a good man. He tried to protect my mother from the rogue. Of course he couldn’t, and died horribly for the effort,” she finished, and then glanced at Beth curiously and asked, “Do you think he could have been a relation?”
“I don’t know,” Beth admitted. “I don’t recall having any family besides my parents and sisters, but he could have been related, I suppose.”
Odilia nodded and then tilted her head and commented, “You are rubbing your stomach. Do you need blood?”
“Probably,” Beth admitted with a grimace. “And food wouldn’t hurt either.”
“Do they keep blood on the plane?” Kira asked, glancing toward the kitchenette.
“Yes, I think so,” Beth said and stood to head for the galley, thinking she really should have taken the time to grab something to eat before leaving for the airfield. She’d intended to, but by the time she’d showered, changed and gathered her things together, Matias had been insisting it was time to go.
Stepping into the kitchenette, Beth glanced around at the wood grain cupboard doors, wondering which if any was the refrigerator, and then she just started opening them one after the other in search of blood, crackers or—hell—even peanuts or pretzels. She hadn’t eaten since the pizza Friday night. Well, technically, Saturday morning, she supposed. Now it was Sunday afternoon and she was famished.
The first cupboard held glasses and cups, and in the second she found plates and bowls. But the third held small bags of chips, peanuts and, yes, pretzels, but also bread sticks and crackers.
“Oh yeah,” Beth murmured, but continued opening doors until she found two small bar-sized refrigerators. One held blood, and Beth took a bag before opening the cupboard next to it to find the second refrigerator, which held fresh fruit, cheese, and dips.
“Jackpot,” she said happily and slapped the bag of blood to her fangs as she reached in with her free hand to grab a peach.
“Food.”
Startled by that deep rumble, Beth turned sharply and saw Scotty standing behind her, staring at the contents of the refrigerator. Even as she did, his gaze shifted to her and he growled, “I’m hungry.”
Judging by the way the silver in his eyes multiplied, Beth suspected he wasn’t just talking about food or even blood. She wasn’t surprised when he moved in close, caught her by the waist and lifted her to sit on the counter.
Beth’s eyes widened above the blood bag, but she merely held on to it and the peach a little more firmly.
“So hungry,” Scotty murmured, stepping between her legs. When the peach bumped against his chest, he glanced down at it with interest, and then he smiled and caught her wrist to lift it until the peach was in front of his mouth. He took a large bite, murmuring with pleasure as he chewed and then glanced to her hand and stilled. Beth followed his gaze and saw that juice had run from the open wound in the peach, making little rivulets down her hand and wrist and further to her elbow.
Swallowing the bite in his mouth, Scotty bent his head to catch the drop of juice that dangled from her elbow. He then followed the rivulet upward, making her skin tingle as his tongue scraped over her sensitive flesh, licking away the juices.
Beth was holding her breath as he licked her arm and wrist, but when his tongue slid over and between her fingers, she moaned and let go of the peach.
Scotty caught the fruit as it fell and set it on the counter. Taking advantage of the fact that her hand was now empty, he sucked one finger into his mouth to the base, and then let it slide back out before taking up the next and repeating the exercise.
Beth had never experienced anything so erotic in her life. Her body was trembling, her breasts hard and sore, and her legs were trying to close to ease the ache there. Scotty was between her legs, however, preventing that, and seemingly of their own accord, her legs closed around him, pulling him forward against her.
She moaned around the bag of blood at her mouth as Scotty rubbed against her. Head dropping back, Beth let her eyes close, and then blinked them open and lowered her head with surprise when the blood bag was suddenly tugged from her mouth. It was empty, she saw as Scotty tossed it on the counter, and then his mouth covered hers, his tongue thrusting past her lips as he ground his groin against her.
Beth gasped and then tilted her head and clutched at his shoulders as she kissed him back. She felt him grab her breast, and groaned as he kneaded it, her legs tightening around his hips and her heels pushing him more firmly against her to increase the friction.
Growling into her mouth, Scotty released her breast and then tugged her T-shirt from her jeans and pushed it up above the bra she wore beneath. That was quickly tugged down so that he could claim one swollen nipple.
“Did you find any foo—Oh! Sorry.”
Beth and Scotty broke apart at once and she peered blankly over his shoulder at Odilia, briefly confused as to who she even was. And that about summed up what Scotty’s touch, his real live touch, did to her, Beth acknowledged. She forgot everyone and everything except for how he made her feel.
“Sorry,” the woman repeated, flustered. “I was just hungry, but I’ll . . .” Whirling away, she rushed back toward the seats and out of sight.
Scotty remained still after she left, his head turned toward where she’d been, and Beth forced herself to slow her breathing and take deep, calming breaths. Once her heart had stopped thundering and the aching in her body had eased, she withdrew her hands and unhooked her legs from around him and then quickly put her clothes back in order.
“We should join the others,” she whispered, pressing on his chest with one hand to ease him back.
Scotty sighed and released her to comply, stepping away from her so that she could slide off the counter.
“Odilia is—”
“Your daughter,” Beth finished for him as she turned and retrieved a tray she’d spotted in one of the cupboards. She then quickly began gathering items—a stack of plates, crackers, cheese, fruit, the bread sticks, dip, and even several bags of blood and half a dozen cans of soda.
“You took her in and cared for her after her family was slaughtered and she was turned. That was kind of you,” she added.
“She was just a child,” Scotty said solemnly. “She’d lost everything.”
“She was lucky to have you save her.” Beth picked up the tray. Turning, she faced him and added, “I was too. Even if you did want to wipe my mind.”
Beth didn’t wait for a response, but slid past him with the tray.
“Is anyone hungry or thirsty?” she asked brightly as she carried the snacks toward the chairs where the women were. Beth wasn’t surprised when the men all immediately moved forward in the plane, eager to examine the offerings. She was quickly surrounded by both the men and women grabbing for various items, and felt sure she’d soon be returning to get more of everything, but then Scotty came from the kitchenette with a second tray stacked with food and blood.
“Set it on the table,” he suggested quietly. “And make sure ye fill a plate yerself and take a bag of blood. It’s been more than twenty-four hours since ye ate, and the one bag o’ blood ye just had’ll no’ do ye.”