"P. N. Elrod & Nigel Bennett - His Father's Son" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

the Hounds of Annwyn, their progenitors.
But the most important, and most dangerous, price of all was that his appetite, too, had changed. Like
Sabra, like all their kind, he drank blood and only blood to live.
Richard d’Orleans was vampire.
This utterly set him at odds to all that he’d been taught; he’d become a depraved thing to be feared,
abhorred, and destroyed. Blood was precious, sacred, not to be spilled or taken by such monsters.
Or so he’d always been told.
We are not monsters, he thought with quiet certainty. No mindless beast could love as he loved Sabra,
as she loved him. No evil could possibly abide in her, nor would she allow it near her. That being so, then he
was not as others might see him, but something well beyond their limits. They would only perceive him as
an unnatural threat though, and act according to the dictates of their fears. Abso-lute secrecy was
necessary for his survival against such deadly ignorance, but it seemed a small enough price to pay for what
he’d gained. He was a servant of the Goddess now, a protector of her ways. So long as he was careful and
kept silent about the truth behind his new existence, he was ageless and deathless. That was the Goddess’s
gift to him, bestowed through his beautiful Sabra.
They’d awakened together the day before from a long afternoon of sleep and fleshly enjoyment in the
shelter of her pavilion, but this time Richard’s first thought and desire was not for more love.
“You hunger, do you not?” Sabra had asked, raising up on one elbow in their bed to look down at him.
“I feel its hold upon me.” He ran a hand over his face and lightly touched his corner teeth. They were
not extended yet, though he felt the potential to do so tingling in their roots.
“But not as strongly as that first craving?”
“Nay, ’tis but a shade to it, but still . . .” He licked his dry lips, recalling the first glorious red rush of
fulfillment he’d taken from the veins of one of Sabra’s servants. The old eunuch had given up his life that
Richard might live, given it up to be with the Goddess they all served. “Must I kill again to satisfy this
need?” Though troubled by the prospect, he was willing to do so if it meant a never-ending eternity with
Sabra.
“But surely not,” she replied, smiling at his concern. “Killing each time we must feed would call attention
to us, and we would be hunted down and killed ourselves by those who have the knowledge. There is a
simple way to satisfy our wants and a pleasing one. I will show you.”
Sabra rose from their nest of cushions and wrapped herself in a long loose robe of the same rich brown
color as her hair. She went to the tent opening and untied the flap, carefully keeping clear of the rays of the
lowering sun that lanced through the cracks. She called to someone outside and soon a young servant girl
hurried in. Richard hastily covered his nakedness with a -blanket.
“This is Ghislaine, she has helped me many times,” said Sabra.
Ghislaine stood in a modest, respectful pose, hands folded and eyes down for the most part, but stealing
quick darting glances at her surroundings, at him. Richard could hear the swift patter of her heart. Sabra
crossed to her, putting an arm around her shoulders to lean close and whisper something, smiling as she did.
The girl flushed deep crimson and stifled a giggle, nodding.
Sabra whispered again, and the girl shuffled a curtsey at him, smiling coyly. Fresh as a peach, she could
not have been much past fifteen, but already had the fullness of a woman’s body. By her manner she
certainly possessed a woman’s experience of the flesh, yet at the same time she seemed to retain a
measure of innocence. Richard found the combination highly appealing and felt a predictable stirring within.
Sabra stepped away from the girl and gazed steadily at him. “Now you must tell her what you want.”
“What do you mean?”
“With your mind, with your words, you may beguile her to your will.”
“I-I know not how, my lady,” Richard began, but was stopped from further protest by Sabra’s piercing
stare. He could not look away. And then he heard her as clearly as if she had spoken to him, though she
had not, for he could well see that her lips did not move.
You have the power as I do. Her voice sounded in his head: warm, sweet, seductive. Will her to do as
you wish.