Free Bond of Fire by Diane Whiteside

into your arms with lies, saying that you cared about only me, not my father’s wealth and power. Telling me it would be for a few nights, not for decades and centuries to come.”
    Rodrigo watched them warily from beside the fireplace, clearly ready to take action on a moment’s notice.
    “Every word was true! I wanted you since the day Rodrigo showed you to me in his prison cell,” she snapped back, coming to her feet to face Jean-Marie, a febrile glitter in her eyes. “You belonged to me then, and you will be mine again.”
    “All you have ever thought about was yourself. Of having a concubino compañero eternally at hand, eager to provide you with carnal pleasure. So that you would need no one and nothing else ever again for the emotion and blood you need to live on. Isn’t it?” He dragged Sara up out of the chair by her shoulders and shook her. “Isn’t it?”
    “Of course! Why not? My life has been bitter. Why shouldn’t I have what I need and desire?” She glared at him defiantly.
    “Even when it destroys a young man’s life?” Rodrigo slapped the carved marble with a force that set portraits shaking on nearby walls.
    “Rodrigo, por favor …” Sara shrank from his rare open display of wrath, as Jean-Marie released her, turning to open another bottle of Burgundy rather than maul her again.
    “France’s armies could have used him decades ago, and she needs him more today. Yet you have tied him so completely to your apron strings that he must travel wherever you go or die within a few weeks.” Rodrigo towered over her, his dark eyes flashing. “I thought our long captivity had left you too much of a child to ever deliberately destroy someone else. I have cared for you, protected you, and been glad to see your wits return. But I will do so no more.”
    “Rodrigo, what do you mean?” She caught at his arm.
    He regarded Jean-Marie, completely ignoring her. “ Amigo , there is one other alternative to being her concubino compañero .”
    “You’ve never mentioned that before.” Jean-Marie’s head came up, and he stopped uncorking the wine.
    “ Compañeros are very rare outside of Asia, concubinos compañeros even rarer, and those whose vampira primera is a vampira mayora are possibly the rarest of all. Something I suspect Sara was counting on to protect herself.” Rodrigo’s voice gained the slick deadliness of a Toledo blade. “Am I not correct?”
    She made a rude gesture more suitable to a gutter than a fine mansion and flounced out the door, silently confirming his story’s truth.
    “What is the option?”
    “I doubt you will like it.”
    “What is my other choice?” Jean-Marie repeated, ready to lunge at his old friend.
    Rodrigo’s dark eyes were troubled but honest under the brutal scar.
    “I, too, am a vampiro mayor and a century older than Sara, which makes my blood more potent than hers.”
    “As I already know. You’ve saved my life more than once with its ability to heal.” Jean-Marie shrugged impatiently. “What of it?”
    “You’ve probably also noticed that I—enjoy the company of both women and men.”
    “As does every other vampiro I’ve met. But you linger with none of them, and you’re always careful of their pleasure, no matter what their gender.” Jean-Marie rolled his eyes, wondering when the Spaniard would get to the point. “Why are you telling me the obvious?”
    “A compañero ’s addiction to one vampiro can be overwhelmed by an addiction to another, older vampiro .”
    “You?” Jean-Marie all but dropped the wine bottle.
    “Myself.” Rodrigo inclined his head. “However, since you’re a concubino compañero , whose bond was originally based on blood and sex, any new bond would have to include both elements.”
    “Take you as a lover?” Jean-Marie’s legs were suddenly very unsteady. He’d always, only thought of himself as an admirer of women.
    “For the rest of your life, although I would, of course, never be a demanding one, amigo