Mircea gave a rueful smile. "No, you were fortunate there. Antonio ordered a gunman to put two bullets in your brain by midnight, but Raphael overheard it and called me. I gave him my protection and told him to come here. I had had concerns about Antonio for some time, but doing away with a third-level master, even if he is one's servant, requires finesse. But if he actually went against my direct orders and made an attempt on your life, I could legally kill him for disobedience. I relayed the information about you to the Senate, who had assigned Tomas to you since the sybil's disappearance. In case they had trouble reaching him, I also contacted some associates of mine in Atlanta, but they had difficulty locating you. By the time they arrived at your office, you had gone."

"You could have picked up a freaking phone, Mircea!"

"I did try to call you, dulceaţă, at your home and at your place of employment. But you did not answer. In any case, you gave us quite a scare. My associates became involved in an altercation with four vampires Rasputin had sent after you. By the time they had disposed of them, you and Tomas had already encountered the assassins Antonio dispatched. Fortunately, you dealt with them quite handily on your own."

I was back to being confused. "You mean nine vamps were after me that night?!" I couldn't believe I'd survived. Master vampires had been taken out with less. "But, if Tony and Rasputin are allies, why send two hit squads?"

Mircea smiled. "Now you are merely stalling. The short version is that Antonio sent five ninth- or tenth-level vampires to kill you as soon as he discovered where you were. When Rasputin heard what he had done, he dispatched four masters to back them up. He is wiser, I think, than Antonio. He knew that the Senate would have put guardians on you and wanted to make sure that you did not survive. You are the only power that can oppose his actions successfully, dulceaţă. He knows this."

My head was spinning. "So Tony's hit squad went to the club, and yours and Rasputin's went to the office after I left? Then who left the message on my computer?"

"What message?"

I shook my head. This was getting way too complex for me. "Never mind. What you're basically saying is that everyone is after me?"

Mircea did not answer because that dark head had gone back to work, licking a path up my inner thigh. His tongue was hot against my skin and his lips were velvet. "I do not know about everyone, dulceaţă, but I certainly am. And now, enough talk." He smiled at me wickedly. "It is time you paid in full."

Chapter 13

I tried to think of another question quickly, but it was difficult, especially when his hands clasped my buttocks and he lifted me upward. His tongue finally reached its goal and I gasped. He ran it over me slowly, exploring my shape, memorizing my taste, before suddenly plunging inside as far as it would go. I screamed and arched against him, helpless to do anything else, and he drank me in. I felt the beginnings of something building in me, something huge, but before it completely tore my senses away, Mircea lifted himself away.

I wanted to scream in frustration, but his lips sealed over mine and I forgot. I ran my hands along that silken skin, tracing down his spine, past his ribs to the cleft between those beautiful buttocks. He shuddered over me, and the feeling of him firm and hot against my stomach was almost overpowering. I wanted him inside me more than I had ever wanted anything, with an almost unbearable need. But when I felt a hard, hot weight settle between my legs, I pushed at his chest. "No, Mircea—you promised."

He laughed low in his throat, and kissed my neck. "I will be good, dulceaţă." Before I could say that that was what was worrying me, he dragged that heavy weight along the full length of my sex, not penetrating, but coming teasingly close. I was wet and aching for him, and I didn't think it was funny. I decided that a little repayment was in order.

I slipped a hand between our bodies and grabbed him. He was thick enough that my grip could not close, but it definitely got his attention. I squeezed, marveling at how incredibly soft his skin was, and his eyes rolled back in his head. It felt odd to hold him, so hot and so velvety to the touch, and it made me feel powerful. I remembered what the woman in my vision had done to Louis-César's body and tried my best to imitate it. A few strokes and the mighty Mircea gave a small, half-strangled scream and trembled against me. I thought for a second that I had hurt him, but if anything he only grew bigger in my hand. I grinned into his startled face and, remembering what it had done to the Frenchman's body, ran a finger across the little slit on the head. He screamed for real this time and stared at me with wide eyes.

"Cassie, where" — he stopped and licked his lips—"where did you learn to do that?"

I laughed. This had possibilities. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." I pushed at his shoulder. "Lie down."

He rolled over without question and I followed, keeping my grip but careful not to hurt him, recalling how sensitive this flesh was. I let my hand explore him as his tongue had done to me, and found his body fascinating. I'd seen many men nude, but this was my first chance to touch one so intimately, and the fact that it was Mircea was sending my blood pressure skyrocketing.

I found that the skin on his balls was the softest yet, and ran my fingers gently over it until he was groaning and thrashing beneath me. I liked doing this to him, seeing him this defenseless, his usually perfect hair tangling as sweat began to mold it to his head. It was exciting to make him spread his legs wider, exposing him to whatever I might decide to do. His helplessness was intoxicating, and it made me daring. My repertoire wasn't exactly extensive, but I have a good memory, and the Frenchwoman had been about to try something with Louis-César that sounded interesting.

I crawled between Mircea's legs, running my hands along the taut muscles. He reached for me but I pushed his hands away. "Stop it."

He subsided, but the surprise in his eyes told me that he wasn't used to being ordered around. I grabbed the length of him again as it bobbed about enticingly in front of me. He closed his eyes once more at my touch, a raw, vulnerable expression stealing over his face. I stroked him slowly, not understanding the look of pain since I knew I wasn't hurting him. "Cassie…" His voice broke and I shushed him. I moved closer and slowly, carefully, licked the straining shaft. It tasted good, slightly salty with an underlying smoky flavor. I liked his scent, too, which was stronger here and faintly musky. The combined sensory overload was heady. I didn't have any experience to guide me, but I decided to start at the tip and work my way down. It sounded like a good plan, but my tongue had barely touched him when Mircea bucked hard, causing me to lose my grip.

"Cassie, don't! I can't control myself if you—"

"I said be quiet," I told him crossly. I needed to focus and it would help if he stayed still and shut up. I told him as much and watched his face fill with astonishment.

"I was assured you had not done this before," he began, struggling up onto his elbows.

I gave him a warning look. "I haven't. So if you don't stay still, don't blame me if you get hurt."

He collapsed back on the bed and flung an arm over his face. He muttered something in Romanian and I ignored him. He knew I didn't speak it, and was just being difficult. If I hadn't been enjoying his body so much, I might have complained. As it was, I returned to the enthralling study of what made him moan. When I slid my lips and tongue along him this time, he stayed much quieter, except for a slight shudder that he might not have been able to help. I found that I liked licking the tip most, although the taste there was a little bitter. But it was worth it to see him struggle not to move or cry out under my touch, his hands balling into fists at his sides. I decided to see what it would take for the great Mircea to completely lose control.