by Lora Edwards
Armand sighed. “Yes, and with me. This simply will not work. She is bound to have a heart attack having to serve vampires.”
“What will you do?”
“I will do what I do with all members of the family who cannot handle my presence: I will set her up somewhere else, give her a stipend, and find a way for her to contribute to the estate or the institute without having to come into contact with anyone from our world. Not all humans are built to deal with the idea that there are things outside of their understanding. Celia has always been such a skittish girl, even as a child. It will be better for her this way, but that is not what I came to tell you.” Armand gestured toward the two armchairs flanking the fireplace. He sat in the chair where she had been reading, peeked at the novel, and chuckled. “The Modern Prometheus?”
“I borrowed it from the library at the house. It is from my era, and I like a good monster story just as much as the next person,” Victoria replied primly.
“Next thing we know you’ll be reading Stoker.”
“Oh I have. It is an interesting tale, and I have always wondered what Vlad thought of it.”
“He said it is a fairly accurate depiction of his interactions with Harker, though of course there was some drama added to it and the ending changed as Vlad is faring quite well in his fortress.”
Victoria laughed, causing Armand’s heart to skip a beat. She was so beautiful when she laughed.
“Touché, Armand. I had forgotten you have met the man himself.”
“Yes, well, it is not far from one of Victor’s favorite residences, so there were a few interactions over the years. He is quite reclusive, staying up there with his ladies. The villagers of Transylvania are still quite superstitious, and he has quite the fear of a brigade of angry humans and burning torches.”
“Why doesn’t he leave, go somewhere else?”
“It has been his home since the 1400s, so he is quite entrenched. He has all the modern conveniences and stays in contact with the outside world. You haven’t seen anything until you have seen Dracula sending a text.”
“That would be something to see.” Victoria chuckled at the idea of the imposing Vlad the Impaler tapping out emojis.
“I am off track again. The hair and makeup people will be here in thirty minutes, and someone will come in to help you dress. Then we will be off to the opera. There is a chance this entire ordeal could be done tonight.”
Victoria felt her chest swell at the thought of being able to start her new life that quickly. “I will be ready.”
Armand nodded and strode out of the room, stopping at the door and turning to Victoria.
“If the countess is caught tonight and the mission is over, you are more than welcome to stay here at the vineyard as long as you please while you sort out what it is you would like to do, or you can return to your rooms at the institute if you feel more comfortable there.”
Before she could answer, he shut the door, and she could hear his footsteps growing fainter as he opened the door and left the suite.
She sank back down into the chair, contemplating. What had he meant by that—for her to stay there with him or to just give her a place to decide what time and place she wanted to live in? She was not sure, and this was not the time to be worrying about such things. She needed to focus on the night ahead. It was not just any night at the opera; they had a duty, and she needed to remember that.
Chapter 21
“What could possibly be keeping her? At this rate we will be late for the opening act,” Victor grumbled as he adjusted his cufflinks.
“Patience, Victor. You know as well as I do that there is a lot more prep that goes into making a lady ready for the opera than it does a gentleman.”
Armand smiled as Victor continued to complain about the time.
He heard laughing and footsteps as the hair and makeup people he had hired came out of the bedroom, sounding like a herd of elephants to his sensitive ears.
“The lady will be out momentarily, monsieur,” one of the ladies assured him as she passed by. He nodded as they pounded out the suite, his eyes remaining on the closed bedroom door, waiting for Victoria to appear.
“Like a gaggle of squawking geese they were,” Victor grumbled again, his eyes also fixed on the door.
The sound of swishing silk met their ears, and then Victoria opened the door. “I am ever so sorry, gentlemen. They took forever with their never-ending supply of paints and powders.”
Victor smiled as she elegantly made her way across the room. She was beautiful, and he smirked as he looked over at Armand, who stared at her as she came closer to them.
“I see how it is, Victoria—you have to make a grand entrance,” Victor joked, but it fell on deaf ears.
She came to stand next to them and was ensnared by Armand’s gaze. The tension in the room was thick as they stared at each other. Victor rolled his eyes, wishing they would just get on with it already.
“Victoria, you are a vision,” Armand whispered as he stepped forward to allow her to take his arm.
“You clean up well yourself.” Victoria looked at him with a longing in her eyes that was hard to miss.
Armand looked at her once again. She was beautiful, but he had already known that; the humans had only enhanced her natural beauty with their paints and powders. That she was not aware of her appeal made it even more so, and he was not sure how he was going to let her go if the mission ended that night. She had fit into his life as if she was meant to be there, and he had grown used to the idea that she would be there when he woke up each morning.
“If you two are done staring at each other, can we go?” Victor stood next to the door, tapping his foot.
Armand glared at Victor, who greeted him with a grin in return.
They slipped into the limo, which glided into the busy Paris traffic. He needed his head to be clear; they were hunting one of the most devious killers in all of history, even if history was not aware of her. He wondered how many people had suffered at the hands of the countess over the years, how many unsolved murders she had left in her wake. That would all end that night if he had anything to say about it.
Armand felt his shoulders relax a fraction as the second act of the opera began, and beside him, he felt Victoria relax a fraction as well. They had arrived at the opera house and had scoured the place looking for the countess before taking their seats. There had been no sign of her. As the performance wore on, Armand felt a sense of resignation. They had miscalculated; she had not come. They would have to regroup and start looking again. As he watched the tragic love scene play out on stage, he found his mind wandering. There was a part of him that was a bit relieved they hadn’t found her as it meant he would have more time with Victoria. He was not quite ready to examine that thought.
“No sign of the countess, but at least we got to see a beautiful opera.” Victoria looked to Armand and Victor, who both nodded as they scanned the crowds of well-dressed patrons leaving the theater boxes.
Armand once again took Victoria’s arm, and they began to make their way out of the box. They entered the throng of people, Armand letting go of Victoria’s arm for a moment as they went around one of the large pillars.
When he walked around the other side, she had disappeared. In a panic, he quickly turned a full circle, but she was nowhere to be found.
Chapter 22
Victoria felt the press of cold flesh against her arm, and a familiar scent enveloped her, turning the blood in her veins to ice.
“Amora, my darling, it has been such a long time.” The slightly accented voice purred in her ear. Victoria could feel the imaginary weight of a necklace around her neck, and fear rendered her motionless.
“Darling, you must come with me. We have so much catching up to do.” The hand that held her arm tightened into a vice-like grip.
Victoria’s brain screamed for her to call out, to fight, to scream. They were surrounded by throngs of people, and Armand and Victor could not be far.
She looked exactly the same, as she should have, being a vampire. Her face was coldly beautiful, her raven black hair twisted up into a fanciful and complicated series of swirls. Her dress was blood red, accented with diamonds and rubies, her lips slicked a bright red. She glittered like the edge of a deadly weapon lined with blood. She looked sexy and dangerous, and anger and triumph glittered in her dark eyes.
Victoria stood transfixed, prey stuck in the gaze of the predator, unable to move, unable to fight, waiting for the final blow.
“Victoria!” The shout came from behind her, wiping the smug look from the countess’s face. She looked beyond Victoria, her face paling just a fraction, a fear entering her eyes before arrogance slipped in to replace it.
“We will meet again, darling. This is not the place for our little tête-à-tête. I will be watching, and you will be mine again.” The countess was gone, leaving only the trace of her strange scent behind.
“Victoria, are you all right?” Armand wrapped his arms around her as her legs buckled. She could not look at him; she was so ashamed of herself. She had been right there in her reach, and Victoria had done nothing but stare like a helpless child. She had let her get away, and she would always feel shame for that.
“Yes, I am all right. There is no use looking for her now. She has slipped away, possibly to a different time, and she will no longer be in the opera house. I have failed you.” Victoria’s voice trembled.
Armand put a finger under chin, causing her to meet his gaze. She lowered her lashes, not wanting to see the disappointment she knew she would find there.
When she finally allowed herself to look up at him, she saw only one emotion: fear. She could feel his heart pounding as he wrapped his arms around her.
“We will find the countess again. She is arrogant and wants you back in her fold, so she will make herself known again. All that matters is that you are safe. I am not sure what I would do if we lost you.”
Victoria opened her mouth to answer then Victor hurried up next them. He looked from Victoria’s downcast face to Armand looking into the distance and his shoulders fell.
“She was here, and she escaped.” It was not a question.
Victoria nodded.
“Well, she will be long gone now. There is no reason to stay, so let’s get back to the vineyard and decide our next move.”
Chapter 23
Victoria looked out at the vines; it was a romantic vista. The full moon’s bright rays beamed down on the sleeping vines, the wind faintly rustling through their leaves. It was peaceful. She cupped her hands around the hot cup of tea, the steam wreathing her face in the chill of the night. She didn’t notice the cold air or the romantic view, though. She stood and stared at the scene without taking it in as she replayed the events at the opera over and over in her head.
Why hadn’t she fought back? She’d had the countess in her sights, and it could have all been over. She could have been free. Instead of executing the spell she had practiced in her mind over and over again, she had stood there frozen in fear, years of memories flooding back into her mind, memories of what had happened to her and to others who had crossed the countess.
She had stood up to her once before, during the mission where she had met Delphine and Flynn. She had gone to the local institute and told them it was the countess committing the murders that had the human authorities in a tizzy.
She had paid dearly for that, had been tortured and dumped on the side of the road like so much trash. The countess had thought she had seen the last of her, thought she had ended the life she had extended, but Victoria was a survivor. It had taken many, many months to recover from the tainted blood that had not allowed her to heal, but heal she had.
She had dreamed of the moment when she would be face to face with the countess again, dreamed of getting revenge not only for herself but for all the poor souls that had been victimized by the countess over the years—but, when the moment had arrived, she’d failed. She had failed herself, failed all those she had wanted to avenge, failed the future victims. She’d also failed Armand, and that was the thing that hurt her the worst. She wanted to be a strong and confident woman, wanted to show him she could be an operative for the institute.
She laughed humorlessly at herself. It wasn’t him she had to show now but Bran, who would be running things from now on. What would he think of a vampire who was scared of her own shadow? If she couldn’t face down her own demons, how could she possibly be expected to face down the other dangers that came with being an operative?
Her new friends were all courageous, brave women. Teagan had fought the infamous Jack the Ripper, Ovidia had gone on countless missions and worked with her mate, Erik, to rescue Delphine, and Delphine had fought an entire society of people. She wanted to be like them, wanted to be courageous, but she wasn’t. She was a coward.
One blood-red tear tracked down her face as she looked out on the vineyard. Maybe she was not made for this life. Maybe she needed to go back to her own time, resume her position at the Draconus house as a lady’s maid, and think about what she wanted for the long term. She had time; that was one thing she had in abundance.
“This is a good place for thinking.” Victoria jumped. She had been so deep in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard him coming—another strike against her.
She looked over at Armand and felt her heart sigh. He looked even more handsome by the light of the moon, if that was possible. He looked every inch the vampire, elegant and mysterious with just a touch of danger.
“It is. Armand, I apologize about what happened today at the opera. There is no excuse for it. I just heard her voice and froze.”
He strode in front of her, grasping her by the arms and giving her a light shake.
“Is that what you are doing out here, berating yourself for what happened at the opera?”
She just nodded her head, feeling more tears well in her eyes.
“Stop it. That is utter nonsense.”
The vehemence in his tone startled her and had her looking up into his eyes. There was a fire there, an anger directed right at her, not for what she had done at the opera but for believing it was her fault.
“There is not a one of us who, having been through the torture you have been through, wouldn’t have had the same reaction or a similar one in that situation. That woman terrorized you and held you under her dominion for centuries, Victoria. No one expects you to be able to turn your reaction to those experiences off. If anyone is to blame for the opera situation, it is me.”
Victoria stared at him. “You? Why would you blame yourself?”
“We were separated, and I let you out of my sight, knowing you were her primary target.”
“You don’t have to protect me. I am a vampire—I can take care of myself.” Armand just raised an eyebrow, so she continued. “All right, you have a point, but I need to be able to take care of myself. I can’t freeze each time something happens or when I come into contact with her. I need to learn how to take care of myself, and I need you to not blame yourself for what happened.” Victoria stood with her hands on her hips, making Armand chuckle.
He moved closer and looked at her. “I can’t have anything happen to you, Victoria.”
“I know I am a member of your institute staff and you feel responsible for me. I will be more careful in the future.”
“It is not just because you are a member of the staff,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to hers.
Victoria felt her lids flutter closed as their mouths connected. The feeling of his lips moving over hers sent a shockwave through her system, and it was over far too soon. She opened her eyes and looked into his, the storm raging there matching the tempest in hers.
�
�We need to get you trained. We need to get you to be able to fight, and in order to do that, we need the institute.”
“Are we returning to London then?”
Armand shook his head. “London will come to us.”
Before she could ask another question, she was in his arms, his lips on hers once again, and asking questions was the last thing on her mind.
Chapter 24
Victoria woke the next morning with a smile on her face. Despite the disaster at the opera, the night had ended on a good note. She had sat with Armand in the vineyard until the early hours of the morning, alternately talking and snuggling into his arms while enjoying steamy kisses. She felt refreshed and renewed. She would get better at defending herself, they would defeat the countess, and then they would see what, if anything, came to be between her and Armand.
He had explained that London coming to them meant having her friends at the institute help her learn. He could teach her to fight, but he knew she would feel more comfortable with her friends. Besides, he had told her, they may not get much actual work done and winked before setting off to his own rooms.
Ever the gentleman and aware of her Victorian sensibilities, he had not pushed for more. In Victorian times, what had occurred the night previous would have been grounds for a quick trip to the altar. From what she understood from her friends, it was not that way in the modern world. As much as she embraced many of the modern ideals, this was not one of them. She would not give herself to a man until there was a strong commitment, and maybe not even until marriage.
She sighed. If she spent too much more time around Armand, she knew waiting until marriage might be impossible. A dark thrill ran through her at the possibility. She was possibly the world’s oldest virgin, and the thought made her laugh out loud as she quickly showered and dressed for the day, eager to see her friends and, of course, Armand.
