"Janrae Frank - Dark Brothers of the Light 02 - Bloood Heresy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Frank Janrae)

he told Timon.

Timon smiled, caressing Isranon with his eyes. "We thought you might go a few rounds with us in the
salle."

Isranon shook his head. "I am not finished here. Anksha said--"

Ephry's lips spread in a sensuous expression of delight. "I have already asked her. She says if you wish
to, you may."

Isranon glanced from one to the other. "I wish to."
Bodramet ground his teeth in frustration. If they had to pick a favorite, why pick the half-a-mon? And
then, again, why not? He had been trying to get Isranon into his own bed for five years. Isranon, with his
broad shoulders, narrow hips and handsome face, had always stirred Bodramet's appetites. Isranon had
refused him even the smallest taste of his body or his blood. The single time he had come close to forcing
Isranon, Mephistis had arrived and attacked him. Then, to add insult to injury, Anksha had disciplined
him for breaking the estate's rules concerning non-consensual sex. He would never forget how badly she
had torn him that day. Yet, his hate had not been enough to shield him from her power in Charas, to
prevent her taking him as a blood-slave.

Bodramet started for the double-doors. He reeked of horses and sweat.

"Where are you going?" called the nibari hostler.

Bodramet's lips curled in a grimace of irritation. These nibari were always getting above themselves with
him. "I am finished. I wish to eat."

"Go on, then. But if that last horse has not been done proper, I'll have you back out here."

Bodramet gave him a tiny bow. "I'm sure you will."

He strode briskly across the courtyard and down the broad cobblestone walk toward the mansion. Only
one of his four companions had finished in the stable: Yoris glanced back at Bodramet before stepping
into the foyer. Bodramet's tongue flicked across his fangs as they came down. He was hungry, but not for
slop on a plate, he wanted blood and a body writhing beneath him. The nibari who fed him a small drink
from their veins in the evenings refused him sex. They allowed the sa'necari blood only once a day. "Once
a day is not enough," Bodramet growled.

Bodramet overtook Yoris at the far end of the foyer. The mon had paused to stare through the doorway
into the Great Hall with longing eyes. Only the guests, vampires, and lycans fed there on the multitude of
couches in all the little stylistic alcoves. Nibari, wearing soft, accessible garments that easily opened to
facilitate sating their master's appetites, served food on the scattered tables for those who ate such things
and knelt with wrists crossed behind them to serve the blood from their veins to the others. Standing
there and watching the vampires feed, twisted a knife of bitter resentment in Bodramet's gut. He and his
companions had been forbidden to do more than pass through the room without pausing on their way to
the rear gardens--unless invited and they had not been. However, he had caught sight of Isranon there on
more than one occasion, sitting with Haig and his exquisite nibari, Nainee, talking about philosophy.

He clamped his hand round Yoris' wrist, startling him. "Since I cannot have a nibari for my nibble games,
I will have you."