William grunted his frustration and began to thrust erratically.
As her orgasm crested and waned, Raven’s body relaxed.
“Did you?” he whispered roughly, his pace quickening.
“Oh, yes.” She grinned.
“Good.” With a loud cry, William thrust deeply, pouring himself into her.
His arms gave out, and he collapsed, burying his face in her neck.
“Usually you bite me during and not after,” Raven remarked.
William nipped at her skin.
She laughed, and he joined her, the happy sound echoing through the opulent apartment.
“I didn’t think I’d ever laugh again,” she confessed, running her fingers through his mussed hair, paying homage to the gray bits at his temples.
“I didn’t either.” He shifted to his side, his hand on her abdomen. His eyes were grave.
Raven read the question on his face. But she took her time choosing her words.
“I think, perhaps, there were three different Williams.”
“Three?”
“The William you were when you were young, the William you were as a vampyre, and the William you are now. But something has remained constant. Some part of you remained the same. That core, that soul, is who I love.
“Not the money, or the power, or even the beautiful art collection they’re hiding downstairs. I would have traded all those things to have you with me for one more day.” She hugged him close. “Now I have you, I’m never letting go.”
He kissed her forehead. “Skillfully put.”
“I speak the truth, Mr. Malet.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Malet.” He cleared his throat, and his gaze wandered to her breasts. “Let’s try the never letting go part one more time.”
Two hours later, the couple had showered and finished lunch.
“Why didn’t you go to Prague first?” Raven asked, sitting on William’s lap.
“I needed money, and I needed to arrange safe transport for both of us. So I came here.”
“How safe is the bank?”
He traced a pattern on her thigh. “As a fortress, it’s modest. But the relics of my teacher are strong enough to make the bank as safe as our villa against vampyres. If Borek followed you from Prague, and I surmise he did, we are safe from him and his kind—unless the Roman learns I’m here.”
“Could he attack a building that houses relics?”
“No, but he’s powerful enough to find a way around it or perhaps even to join forces with the Curia.”
“Borek thinks the Roman is going mad.”
William gave her a long look. “I think Borek is right. I didn’t see it clearly before, but I think madness has seized part of the Roman’s mind. In his twisted thinking, he believes I betrayed him for you. He was always jealous of my affections. Perhaps he took perverse pleasure in handing me over to our enemies.”
Raven muttered a curse. “Do the Curia know you’re alive?”
William scratched his newly shaven chin. “I don’t know. Obviously, they don’t have my body. But I don’t know if reports of my current state have reached them. For both our sakes, I’ve been praying they remain ignorant.”
“If you aren’t a vampyre, why would they want you?”
William grimaced. “They want both of us, Raven. Your priest wants your memories adjusted so you won’t be a security risk. The Curia wants me to inform on the Roman and other powerful vampyres. But they’d interrogate me first, trying to understand what made me different from the others.”
“Do you know the answer?”
“I think so. But I only realized it after I died.” He gave her a half smile. “It’s a strange story, and a bit of a long one.”
“I want to hear it.” Raven adjusted herself into a more comfortable position on his lap, resting her head on his shoulder. “I should probably mention that Borek said Father Kavanaugh quit the Curia and returned home.”
“That would be the honorable thing to do.”
“You haven’t forgiven him, have you?”
William studied her. “I don’t believe he intended to kill my human nature. I think they wanted to destroy the vampyre.”
“That’s still killing.”
William tightened his arms around her. “The last thing I remember before everything went dark was the sound of you screaming. I felt my soul leave my body, and I hovered over everyone. I saw you and Father Kavanaugh. I—”
William’s story was interrupted by the ringing of a telephone.
He frowned. “I told them we were not to be disturbed.”
The telephone rang again.
“Excuse me.” He helped Raven to her feet and strode over to the bed, lifting the handset of the telephone. “Yes?”
Raven followed, catching Monsieur Marchand’s last words, “—military-style convoy, with diplomatic plates.”
“Where?” asked William, his eyes meeting Raven’s.
“Just outside the city, sir.”
“And the intelligence report?”
“We have been unable to identify the convoy, sir. If they’re headed here, they’ll arrive in thirty minutes.”
“Right. We’re leaving at once. Prepare for our departure.” William hung up the phone.
Raven grabbed his hand. “Curia?”
“We don’t know, but I don’t want to take the chance. Pack whatever you can’t live without.”