The Vampyre Legal Chronicles - Daniel: Book: 3 Read Free Page B

space to stand in front of a full-size mirror. Reaching out, he
pressed part of the wooden frame. There was a soft click and the mirror slid
silently to the left, leaving what appeared to be another looking glass
beneath. The palm of his hand touched the now shimmering glass and he spoke a
single word.
    "Sorcha."
    Between one heartbeat and the next a great lioness appeared,
thick fur the color of virgin snow, her eyes the most beautiful dark violet.
Those eyes blinked once, twice, as they stared into his. The big cat sat,
waiting, its head tilted to the side as if listening. Duncan knew better. He
knew the cat, his wife's familiar , was speaking to Sorcha. He'd no more
thought of her than she appeared. And just like that, his heart stopped before
beating again too fast. How had he managed to wait nearly two hundred long
years to see her?
    How?
    Of course, in Sorcha's world the passing of time didn't move
the same as it did on earth. In her world fifteen earth years passed in one
year. So two hundred years in his time, but over thirteen in hers. The laws of
physics seemed to allow for time to move faster or slower in some realities.
    "Vampyre," she whispered. The sound of her voice,
heard after so long, was a sensual stroke of fingertips over his skin.
"Are you ready to get down on your knees before me?"
    His groin went too hard too fast.
    He remembered the promise he'd made to her.
    That when he finally entered the world she ruled, he would
drop to his knees before her.
    "Witch," he whispered back. Then he simply shook
his head. "Jesus Christ, Sorcha, my darlin’, you look gorgeous."
    She was tall, willow slim. Her feet were bare. Her hands
unadorned except for the slim gold ring on her wedding finger. His ring. She
wore a white silk gown that covered her from head to toe. A gown that reminded
Duncan of the garment a nun might have worn forty years ago. Her fabulous hair,
hair the color of ink, was covered. All that denoted her status as Queen of the
world she ruled, was the slim gold circlet on her head that held a gold emblem
denoting the third-eye that sat in the middle of her smooth forehead. Her skin
was flawless, the color of fresh cream. The black brows arched now as eyes,
black as night, drank him in.
    He read the lust.
    He read the love.
    He read the despair.
    Those high cheekbones were razor sharp and flushed, the chin
pointed beneath a full and luscious mouth. Anxiety entered those dark eyes even
as her mouth curved.
    "The boys, they are well?"
    Her voice was soft and deep. The sound seemed to caress his
flesh, tingle his spine, and he went even harder.
    "Our sons are good. Marcus is married. Lovely girl.
James is married, too. His wife is with child. In seven months you will be a
grandmother, my darlin’."
    He caught the flash of joy in those dark eyes, before she
frowned.
    "Daniel and Adam?"
    "They are doing well. Daniel's empathic abilities are growing," he growled the word.
    Sorcha smiled, a response that made his heart ache in his
chest like a bad tooth.
    "He takes after my father. Blood will out, and
Adam?"
    "He's based in Edinburgh." Then he hesitated as
his eyes held hers. "The girls?"
    "Growing fast. Azalea is testing boundaries, while the
rest simply watch to see what sort of punishment might befall her."
    He had six daughters he'd never met.
    Again the ache in his heart made him take a careful breath.
    "What calamity has occurred?" she asked him,
getting straight to the point.
    It was so like her not to tip-toe around an issue.
    He didn't respond.
    His need for her was a vicious thing and his vampyre took
over and rose.
    Instead of being alarmed, Sorcha shook her head.
    "I cannot come to you, my love. But you may enter the Entrée
to me."
    He heard the need in her voice, saw it in those dark eyes.
    At her feet, the lioness bared her teeth, then rose and
walked away.
    "She hates me," he said.
    Sorcha slowly shook her head.
    "She hates living without a mate. It is an unnatural life
for a cat."
    It was an