"I have indeed. It's a useful skill, is it not? To be able to communicate without words?" He closed the gap between them and kissed her forehead. "Are you sure you are all right?"

She stared into his deep blue eyes and relaxed the last of her barriers, felt him penetrate her mind with the same sense of knowing and completion as when he penetrated her body.

"I like that comparison, my love, and I hope to be inside you very soon."

Rosalind concentrated hard. "We will have to see about that. Are all the Vampires destroyed?"

"Aye, they are."

His mouth descended over hers and she kissed him, felt his mingled relief and pleasure build right alongside hers. She knew it wouldn't be long before they became one in all possible ways, their bodies joined skin to skin, their mouths fused . . . She slid her hand into his black hair and held him tight. After yet another close encounter with death, having Christopher in her mind and in her arms made her feel alive again. They were still linked and it felt so right she could no longer understand how they could live without each other.

He lifted his head and stared down at her, ran his thumb over her lower lip. "We are still bound together. Did you ever doubt it?"

"I wasn't sure . . ."

His eyes snapped fire. "You doubted me?"

"I doubted whether the feelings would last."

"Because we fulfilled the prophecy?"

"I thought it was a possibility." Rosalind eased out of his arms.

"Not for me. You can blame it on my Vampire family's blood, but I regard you as my mate for all eternity. Why else do you think I'm prepared to ally myself with you?" He glared down at her. "For as long as we both live."

"You would prefer to live for all eternity?"

He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "I would like to live beyond the current year."

"What do you mean?"

His smile wasn't convincing. "Nothing, my love. I'm sure we'll survive this."

"Christopher . . ."

He squeezed her fingers. "I'll tell you if there is need."

She took a long, slow breath both to clear her mind and to remove the taste of death an encounter with a Vampire always brought. "We have to take care of the bodies. I'll go and find Rhys-"The ground seemed to tip toward her and she felt Christopher grab her elbow and steady her.

"Your face is bleeding." He took out his kerchief and patted at the blood on her cheek. "One of the Vampires caught you with her claws."

"Yes." Rosalind stood patiently as he dabbed at the trickle of blood. "I wonder why they attacked us."

He threw the bloodied cloth onto the ground. "Mayhap to see where our loyalties lie."

"Your loyalties, you mean?"

"Probably." He grimaced. "And I have failed the test. Now they know I'm not averse to killing those I have sworn to protect."

"Only because they tried to kill you! You did nothing to provoke them."

"That is true, and they should be used to that by now." He looked toward the palace. "I suppose we should get back."

She sensed his ambivalence about killing Vampires resurface. He might swear on his oath that he was on her side, but old loyalties died hard and Christopher's feelings for the Vampire community were more complicated than he ever chose to admit. But he had to deal with his conscience in his own way. She'd already realized that nothing she said would make a difference.

She wiped her dagger on her ripped hose and took Christopher's proffered hand. Her cheek was throbbing and she suddenly felt tired.

"Rosalind, I can go and find Rhys for you if you wish to retire to bed."

She struggled to gather her thoughts. "No, I have to see him." She touched her cheek and winced. "Vampire claws can be infected. I'll need a special potion for this."

"I didn't know that."

Rosalind tried to smile, but it hurt too much. "It's of no matter."

He stopped suddenly and drew her against his shoulder, his voice rough, his arms wrapped around her. "Do you have any idea how much I hate to see you fight and not be able to protect you?"

She rested her forehead against his leather jerkin, glad of his support. "I'm quite capable of defending myself."

"I know that, but I still hate it."

She closed her eyes and listened to the rapid beat of his heart, the urgency of his breathing, and felt his warm strength surround her.

"Rosalind," he murmured.

"What?"

"Do you want me to carry you?"

His words forced her to pull away from him. "I'm fine. The cut is just stinging a little."

He put his arm around her shoulders. "Then let's get you straight to Rhys."

Chapter 8.

Christopher winced as Rhys applied a vile-smelling green ointment to Rosalind's cheek. He hated to see her suffer, especially when every painful touch of Rhys's fingers resonated through his own mind. Luckily, Rhys had still been awake and had taken them into one of the tack rooms to clean up while he fetched his supplies. Rosalind looked exhausted, her skin pale against the angry-looking gouges, her teeth set into her lower lip as if to deny the pain. Christopher leaned forward and took her hand.

"Rhys has almost finished, love."

"Indeed, I have, my lady," Rhys said. "Come back tomorrow and I'll take another look to be sure, but I think you'll be fine."

Rosalind opened her eyes. "Thank you, Rhys." Her gaze shifted to Christopher. "And thank you for helping me with the Vampires."

"There is no need to thank me. I could hardly stand there and watch you take them all on."

"You could have."

Irritation flared in his chest. "I have allied myself with you. Don't you believe me?"

"I think you believe it. Whether it is that simple, I know not."

Christopher sighed. "You're right. It isn't that simple. But I intend to do my best to protect you-and save the king. Will you at least believe that?"

"Of course." Rosalind squeezed his fingers and her faint smile warmed him all the way to his heart.

Rhys stood up and began packing away the soiled rags and ointment. "Perhaps you should go to bed, my lady."

Christopher winked at Rosalind. "Rhys might insist that you are not his to order around, my love, but he seems to have some difficulty remembering it."

Rhys swung around. "I remember it. I'm just far too used to telling her what to do."

"As if you were my older brother." Rosalind allowed him to help her stand. "I suspect you'll always be like that."

Rhys chuckled and turned away, but not before Christopher had caught the hint of pain in his expression. It was hard to give up old loyalties. He, of all men, understood that.

"I suspect this Vampire attack was aimed at establishing my allegiances rather than Rosalind's."

"It's very likely," Rhys replied. "The Vampires can have no doubt where Rosalind's loyalties lie."

Even though it was true, Rhys's calm assumption that Christopher's loyalty was questionable still stung. "Lady Anne thought the Vampire Council sent me to defend her. After tonight, I wonder if she'll continue to believe it."

"It would be a good thing if she did," Rosalind said thoughtfully, her gaze moving between Rhys and Christopher. "She might share more secrets with you if she thought you were on her side."

Christopher rose. "You wish me to play both sides of this treacherous game?"

"Yes." Rosalind stood too. "We need all the help we can get. It's not as if we can just kill Anne and her brother in front of the whole court. We have to find a way to dispose of them discreetly and probably without the king's approval."

Christopher held out his hand. "We should go. Perhaps we can discuss this when you are feeling better."

Rosalind took his hand and he led her out of the stable block and back toward the Clock court, where they were both lodged. The clock struck three times, the sound echoing in the stillness. In the shadow of the archway, Rosalind stopped walking and cupped his cheek.

"I know that this is difficult for you."

He moved his head until his lips met her skin and kissed it, used the tip of his tongue to circle her palm until he felt her shiver and draw even closer. For once, he welcomed the surge of lust that shuddered through him. His need for her surpassed all other considerations about loyalty, broken promises, and the never-ending complications of his mother's Vampire legacy.

He raised his head to find Rosalind looking steadily at him, her brown eyes wide and vulnerable, and kissed her gently on the mouth. Her lips parted and he surged inside, used his tongue to lick and flick against hers in an erotic dance that simply inflamed his already starved passions.

Her fingers moved over his jerkin and he groaned as she tugged at the lacing on his undershirt and shoved her hand inside to caress his chest. His prick strained against the confines of his hose. He wanted her hand on him, her mouth . . .

Without conscious thought, he cupped her bottom and drew her up on tiptoe to fit against him. His back hit the brick wall, and he stayed there, glad of something solid behind him. She kissed him, her tongue as voracious as his, her body pressed against him from knee to shoulder. He knew he should draw back, that they were in a public place, but he couldn't seem to find the will.

"Rosalind," he murmured against her lips.

Her hand tightened in his hair and he winced. Her words echoed in his mind. "Christopher Ellis, if you stop now, I will run you through with your own dagger."

He wasn't sure if he was capable of stopping. His blood was on fire, and his prick begged for satisfaction. He shifted his hand and ripped at the ties on her hose. Then he slid his fingers into the glorious wet warmth between her legs. By God's teeth, she felt so delicious he almost disgraced himself and spilled his seed like an untried youth.

She made a hungry, mewling sound as he started to move. His fingers circling and sliding through her lush wet folds and the tight swollen bud at the very center of her need, he increased his tempo, slid two fingers deep, and almost groaned aloud when she tightened around him and took her pleasure. Her mind tangled with his, and her delight overflowed and enhanced the rising need within him. God, he needed her hand on him- Before he'd even completed the thought, she untied the points of his hose and her fingers closed around his prick. He started to thrust urgently into her hand, discretion forgotten, need paramount, completion so vital that he wouldn't have been able to stop if the entire court had been watching.

His seed spilled into her hand and he kept thrusting as pleasure shuddered through him and her in an endless spiral. When he finally went quiet, his face was pressed against the crook of her neck and he was panting as if he'd run for miles.

"That was . . . not how I intended to woo you, my lady. I envisioned a bed and a long night of love play."

Rosalind disengaged her hand from his now deflated prick and smiled at him. "This was perfect."

"Not quite, as I didn't get inside you."

"Perfect for now, I meant." She rearranged her clothing, her cheeks now flushed and her eyes dreamy. He wanted to untie her hair and lay her on his bed, slowly uncover her nakedness and spend hours worshipping every inch of her skin. "I confess I was desperate to touch you."

"I'm glad to hear it, my lady." He paused and scanned her face. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Not at all. In truth I feel much better than I have for months."

"You missed me, then?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Of course I did."

"Then why did you stay away for so long?" The words were out before he could stop them.

She drew away from him, her expression suddenly shuttered, her mind slamming shut against him. He felt it like a physical blow. "Because there was no reason for me to be at court."

He caught her hand. "You told me that there is always a Llewellyn at court guarding the Tudors."

"Jasper was here."

"But he doesn't have the mark of Awen, does he? And only that mark brings special access to the king."

"What do you know about it?"

She sounded defensive now, and he hated it, hated the part of himself that couldn't help but push to expose the truth, even if it hurt them both. "I know that only a few Druids are born with the mark of Awen-including you."

Her right hand went to her left wrist as if covering the evidence. "What is your point, my lord?"

"I just wondered why you felt it was all right to leave the king unprotected for so long."

"He wasn't unprotected!" She turned on her heel. "And you are being ridiculous."

"If I'm being ridiculous, why are you getting so upset?"

She swung around to glare at him. "Because you said you believed in me, and yet you are suggesting I neglected my duty to the king."

Christopher stared at her. "I do believe in you; that has nothing to do with asking why you stayed away so long."