Blood Ecstasy (Blood Curse Series Book 8) by Tessa Dawn

carefully, imagining each woman in her group and what his expert intervention could mean for her life. She brought her hand to her mouth and began to chew on her nails, and gods forgive him, but he had to take a quick, inconspicuous glance at her thoughts: She was thinking about Sheila, a woman who had suffered two miscarriages, how each of her unborn children had been beaten out of her body. She was thinking about a woman named Nancy, and the way she spoke with a lisp, how the left half of her jaw had been wired together. And she was counting all the restraining orders, the numerous, ever-constant threats, all the temporary houses and the fake IDs.  
    She was weighing what these women had gone through in a society that had all but abandoned them to some cultural blindness—or apathy—that allowed such blatant, unjust atrocities to go on, unchallenged, leaving it up to the victims to fend for themselves, to live or die at the sick, errant impulses of their lovers…or practical strangers.  
    And finally, she was thinking about an incestuous father who had just been given joint custody of his three-year-old daughter, a child of a woman named Kate, and how the clock was ticking for that precious little girl. Although it went against every civilized, acculturated bone in her human body, Rebecca was tuned in to her celestial DNA, and her desire for justice was as primal as it was strong. “You could do that?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You could…take care of them all?”
    Julien nodded, resolutely. “For you, my true destiny ; I would slaughter a small country.” Once again, he held up his hand. “But never an innocent soul. There will be no blood on your hands, either way. But you haven’t said yes , or no .”
    Rebecca fidgeted with her hands; she tugged on the ends of her hair; and she bit down, far too hard, on her bottom lip. She squirmed where she sat, until she could no longer take the chaotic energy, and then she stood, to pace it off.  
    Finally, turning around, her face gaunt and ashen, she sought the vampire’s gaze. “Yes,” she whispered, as a tear of compassion—or perhaps, remorse?—fell from the corner of her eye.“You don’t necessarily have to kill them—I really don’t want you to kill them. And, either way, I don’t want to know what you do. But if you can set them free— the women —if you can set me free from Trevor…” Her single tear turned into a torrent of anguish,and she shook from the depth of her emotion. “Then yes, Julien… please …please do.”
    Julien rose from his perch near the wall, inexorably drawn by the strength of her pain. Dear gods , she was so full of compassion. Despite her conviction, her heart was practically breaking from the mere thought of hurting these worthless men. Yet and still, he would not dishonor her goodness: If he could maim them or erase their minds, set them on another path, then he would. He would spare their lives for Rebecca, unless, of course, someone got out of hand or showed a propensity to continue hurting others, unless it was simply irrefutable: If the man was a rabid dog, and the dog needed to be put down, then Julien was all about the task.  
    Just the same, Rebecca had made her decision, and he would honor her wishes…
    With one exception.
    Trevor.
    Trevor Rainer.
    This particular dog was dead.
    Closing the distance between them, even knowing that he had no right, Julien blanketed Rebecca’s slender body in his hard, implacable strength, and wrapped his arms around her. When she didn’t fight him, he knew he had taken her to a very raw, vulnerable place, a place much more personal, much more helpless, and far more exposed than being captured by a vampire—
    And great celestial gods , didn’t that say it all.
    Sliding a strong but gentle hand into her soft, silky hair, he nudged her forward and held her close to his heart, nuzzling the top of her head with his chin. Once again, she allowed it, as she