of the one she worshipped.
The female bent to the water’s edge only a stone’s throw away. With the grace of a soaring hawk, her pale arm arced over the water. Yuri caught sight of her wrists, slender and elegant, before she dipped her hands, plunging them into the lake and scooping up water. A moment later, the cloak fell off, pooling to the ground around her feet.
Yuri’s heart skipped. Sweet Goddess, if he thought her magnificent before, she rendered him speechless now.
He’d heard of the alluring, borderline erotic Kalu garment, but had never seen one. Slaves to the Goddess, the Kalu’s attire reflected such. Red arm covers swathed her forearms from wrist to bicep. A narrow piece of fabric crisscrossed over her breasts and curved, wrapping once around her waist, leaving an enticing amount of flesh exposed from her rib cage to her navel. Panels, no more than ten inches wide, hung between her legs to her ankles on the front and back. Deliciously bare, her hips and thighs were concealed by only two ribbons tied in bows at her hipbones. Another slim red ribbon collared her delicate throat.
A sliver of moonlight peeked down from between the clouds, casting a hint of light upon her skin. Yuri’s eyes widened with each new inch of flesh the moonlight exposed.
Tattoos.
This beautiful creature was covered in them. They peppered her flesh, her abdomen, arms, chest and no doubt her back too if he had the opportunity to look. Suddenly, the desire to bare this female to his gaze and study her marked body besieged him.
Unlike humans, who used tattoos the way a male peacock struts its plumage, in the Mysts, each tattoo told a story about the vampire who bore it, for good or ill. Some were put on the body by right, some by force and none were taken lightly. Every mark had meaningful and thoughtful placement. They spoke volumes about those wearing them. The tattoos identified where they were born, what class or horde they belonged to, what specialties they owned, or where their affiliations lay.
In the same vein, if someone placed false tattoos on their bodies, claiming to be someone or something they were not, they would bring shame upon their clan, and in most cases find themselves exiled. That is, if a disgraced family member did not find and kill them first.
Yuri looked down at his inked forearm, studying his own marks. The intricate design rippled as he flexed his grip on one of the weapons of his trade. Yeah, he knew all about those tattoos. But why did she have so many? Kalu were said to be marked as such, but he couldn’t imagine so heavily. Whatever her tattoos spoke about her, Yuri had the clawing urge to read, to learn, to know.
Curious to see if his keen eyesight could make out any symbols or patterns in the darkness, Yuri glanced toward the woman again. His mouth slackened at the sight of her. The female had undone the ties around her neck and now bathed topless by the water. Even in the dim light, Yuri had no problem making out the perfect shape of her bosom. A small tattoo sat nestled in the valley of her chest. However, the flesh of her breasts remained unmarked. Crimped and tight, her nipples looked succulent, two raspberries ripe for the taking.
A hammer of lust began pounding in his veins. A dangerous undercurrent of hunger rippled through him in its wake. The need to feed, to heal, overwhelmed him. His canines throbbed, lengthening on their own volition. A haze of red blanketed his vision. Yuri pinched his eyes shut, trying to get himself under control. He swallowed, groaning at the raw slide of his throat.
A loud female gasp filled his ears.
Yuri cursed beneath his breath. He’d been discovered. If the girl ran, in the state he was in, he’d never catch her before she reached help. Goddess knew what would happen if she sounded the alarm and let the entire Mysts know he was here.
Out of options, Yuri grudgingly utilized the last resource he owned and readied to overtake the girl’s mind.
Zeroing his gaze on the female, he focused on her eyes. Heat bored into his skull and within seconds, his medji self bombarded her mind and took control.
Being one of the last psychic vampires in existence had its perks. But wounded as he was, he knew he couldn’t hold her still for long. He was already getting a sense of this woman and she did not like his mental invasion at all.
Bracing his hands, Yuri pushed up to his knees, feeling pain crawl through him anew. Weak and wounded, Yuri forced himself to appear anything but to the female as he approached her. If the vibrations he picked up from her thoughts were even remotely accurate, she was skittish as a feral cat and had claws just as sharp. Yuri held his back ramrod straight as he neared her, even though his shoulder burned in protest and the unbearable need to vomit rolled through his gut.
After two more steps, he stood in front of her. As his telepathic powers instructed, she remained motionless. Yuri wrapped his fingers around her upper arms, holding her physically as he prepared to release her mentally. But he stared into her face and hesitated.
Dewdrop-shaped eyes of a color he’d never seen before locked on his, a flicker of willful intelligence sparking in their depths. Her eyes seemed almost iridescent obsidian with flecks of color that shifted with each play of light, very unlike a vampire’s flat black eye color. Her slender arching brows matched her high cheekbones. The sultry curve of her mouth instantly recalled the palace courtesans, lush, curvy and willing.
However, her mind intrigued him most. He’d entered her psyche easily enough. She had not been expecting his attack and he’d slipped her mental defenses without difficulty. Yet, the moment he’d gained access to her thoughts, he’d felt her mentally pushing him back. Hard. It had taken all of his concentration to keep her immobile until he could reach her.
Tightening the grip on her he’d let slacken, Yuri pulled out of her thoughts and released her mind.
Like a deer sensing a lion, she instantly moved away from him, trying to run in the opposite direction. However, Yuri held her tightly. Undeterred, she swung, her elbow nearly smashing his nose. Yuri used his years of combat training to efficiently immobilize her upper arms and pin her back flush against his body. When she fought to get away once more, he flashed the dagger he still held in his hand, covering her mouth with the other. She finally quit struggling.
“Don’t make a sound,” he said, fighting to keep his voice controlled and even. “Cooperate, do as I say and I will not hurt you. Do you understand me?”
The female glanced back at him and nodded. Those eyes of hers were big and yet calm, almost assessing in their stare as if she dissected everything about him. Yuri suddenly felt thankful for the darkness. Had this one seen the extent of his wounds, she might have tried to get away again and succeeded this time. And for the next few hours, he needed her.
It was all making sense. Why he’d journeyed to the Samostan in the first place. Why he’d been lurking just outside its outer walls.
Yuri hauled the Kalu to him. The sweet scent of her curled around him, enticing him, making his mouth water. He closed his eyes and dipped his chin to the space between her neck and shoulders, breathing her in. The beast within him responded, his nature sensing a way to heal. Yuri didn’t fight it this time. Instead, he willed his fangs to lengthen, invited the blanket of red to drape over his vision. Yuri closed his eyes, a plan forming in some dark recess of his mind.
I need her. I need her. Those three words repeated in a prayer-like litany in his mind. Perhaps the Goddess had not abandoned him after all. Perhaps she’d dropped one of her servants in his lap to help him. After all, he could use this girl to escape this place. He could use her to get back home.
But first he needed her blood.
Yuri threw open his eyes. His vision zeroed in on the pulse fluttering wildly in her neck. His fangs ached, itching for that first taste of what he already knew would be sweet, hot and tangy blood.
The fingers around his arm tightened.
“Please,” she breathed. The husky sound of her voice, soft and yet strong like steel and velvet woven together, shot straight to his groin. He felt alive with a lustful urge and need he’d not sated in…Goddess, probably as long