Raven Mask (Camren) Book 2

Chapter 7

(Warning... Some more smut)

Dinah offered to go make coffee. I knew
there was a kitchen somewhere in the basement level, but I didn't know where. I'd only seen the one in the main part of the house.

Lauren paced in the middle of the room like some dangerous black leopard slinking back and forth in a cage. She stopped, as if feeling my gaze, and turned to look at me. The bell sleeves of her black robe fanned out gracefully about her wrists. The sash was tied loosely at her cinched waist, showing off her hourglass figure. Lauren's figure wasn't exactly subtle, but it wasn't sickly looking either. Was she old enough to have worn corsets most of her life?

"What are you thinking about, Camila?" The curls falling over her shoulders and to her lower back were messy. It was nice to see her hair less than perfect for once.

"You wore corsets, didn't you?" I wanted to know and didn't want to know how old she was. Why? I'd dated women older than me. I never looked at age, but if Lauren had been alive during the Victorian Era, that would make her over a hundred.

That's the thing with vampires. They don't grow old in appearance. Whatever age a vampire is when they die is the age they appear for the rest of their lives. Had any vampires been turned when they were already old humans? How much would that suck?

"Are you trying to figure out how old I am?"

I shrugged guiltily. "Kind of."

"Kind of?" She gave me a curious look. "Are you fretting over the generation gap?"

I shook my head. "No. It doesn't bother me."

"Yes, I wore corsets." She looked amused. "If you must know, I was changed before that era."

"So, you're over two hundred?" Yeah, I was guessing.

"Yes." She sat on the bed in front of me, and I reclined against the pillows, keeping the sheet tucked up under my arms so that I was covered. I still needed to take a bath, or a shower. "How old were you when you were turned?"

"I was in my early twenties when she turned me." I knew when she said "she," Lauren was referring to her old mistress.

"When I first met you I thought you were younger. Until you smiled, and I saw the tiniest of lines here." I brushed my fingertip across the corner of her eye.

Lenorre smiled and showed that faint line where crow's-feet would've set in. How many women chose to become undead just to avoid having Botox injections and face lifts?

She slipped her arm around my waist, between my naked back and the pillow. "She did not like them young," Lauren said, "nor old. She delayed the change until a woman's body had fully developed, till she was at the height of her womanhood and beauty. When we were truly women she turned us."

"Us?" I asked.

"She was a Countess," Lauren explained. "I was not the only one in her care."

I put my arms around Lauren's back, pulling her into me. The V of the robe pulled away from her body and I followed the line of her neck, and lower. "Tell me more about this...mistress. You said she was still alive?"

"Mmm-hmm." Lauren kissed my neck, nibbling a path toward my shoulder. A twinge of heat ran through me.

"Why are you not with her?"

She spoke against the sensitive skin behind my ear. "I was strong enough to break away and create my own clan."

I gasped when she placed her hand over the sheet, sliding it up the front of my body to cup my breast. "Are you trying to distract me?"