He would not even allow thoughts of the alternative to enter his mind.
“I shall set lookouts.” He spoke decisively. “We will know as soon as any ships or boats appear.”
Nick looked at him. “They must not approach her, Sir Sidney.”
“I will make that clear.” Sidney nodded. “We will tell the servants to be on the watch for vessels in our waters and in the inlet. But under no circumstances are they to reveal themselves or go near the passengers.”
“Best keep everyone indoors at night.” Verity added. “In case we miss her arrival…”
“Good point.” Sidney added a brief note to the paper on his desk. He had been keeping jotted thoughts and ideas written down, the better to ensure what safety he could for all concerned.
Katherine shivered. “It won’t be long.”
“It won’t, will it? I can sense it too.” Verity pulled her shawl around her shoulders.
Adrian lifted a hand and leaned against the window staring out into the night. “I came here by chance from the ocean—and found a new life. Thérèse comes here from the ocean on purpose—to find her death. Life is most strange at times.”
“I do not believe in chance, all that much.” Marcus’ voice was deep and steady. “In a hand of cards? Yes. In matters such as this—well, it would seem a greater hand than ours is at work.” He looked at the others, one by one. “We have found each other through a series of strange coincidences. I believe there was a purpose to our meeting. It sounds a little strange, I know, but there it is. Just as you sense Thérèse, I sense a pattern, a deliberate intent on the part of the Universe to unite us all here at this time.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “I sincerely trust nobody will ever reveal my flights of fancy outside this room. My reputation as a practical and dissolute rake would be quite undone.”
Once again they laughed, eager to agree, to endorse Marcus’ “flight of fancy”. And also, noted Sidney, eager to believe in his words.
Sidney shared their emotions. He wanted to believe too. Probably more than any of them. If he lost them—well, all that he was would die in that moment, even if his body should survive.
He shrugged. Such things were out of his hands. He could, however, attend to the practical details.
“So let us refine our plan…”
Chapter Sixteen
Thunder rumbled angrily in the dark skies over the ocean as the inhabitants of St. Chesswell’s prepared themselves for a fight to the death.
Marcus’ emotions roiled like the storm offshore as he stood with his friends on the top of the wide stone staircase and looked out toward the Chyne, that rift in the landscape that time and water had carved into the chalk beneath their feet.
Beside him, most were quiet. Adrian and Nick spoke little, simply ensuring their women were as prepared as possible. Both had agreed that Katherine and Verity should be simply clad, breeches replacing the skirts and petticoats that were their usual garb.
Verity had been rather pleased and Katherine endorsed that sentiment, pointing out that she wasn’t about to trip on a damn piece of lace if her life was in the balance. It was sensible and approved by Adrian, who had fallen once before. He made sure nobody was going to fall this time around.
All wore stout shoes, comfortable clothing and thick woolen coats. Sidney was carefully wrapped in a cloak as well, rolling his eyes as his son continually nagged him to stay as far away and as safe as possible.
Marcus carried the sword and he looked down at it as it gleamed dully, catching a flicker of lightning every now and again. It was heavy, simple and without adornment, the handle made for the hand of a warrior. The blade was sharp and the weight perfectly balanced. He felt no throb or warmth from it, but knew others had.
He hoped it would live up to its reputation but if all else failed, it was one hell of a weapon even without any divine characteristics.
The word had flashed through the household only a few hours after a watch had begun—a ship had been sighted and a passenger was now ashore.
They’d been right—she’d gone straight to the caves near the Chyne.
And now it was the following night, when doubtless she would be expecting their arrival, prepared to feed, to fuck—and perhaps to die.
Marcus had no clue what lay ahead. He could not envision doing battle with this creature. He alone had faced her and escaped her deadly bite. The reason was even now slithering through his body and sapping it of his mortality.
He brushed the thought away. His illness was inconsequential, his death a certainty. Right now, they all had more important things to worry about.
“Ready?” Adrian spoke clearly into the darkness.
A chorus of “yes” answered him.
Together they moved, a tiny force strengthened by their desire for resolution, an end to the torment they all endured. And bearing a mighty sword from a long-ago time with which to defeat a devil masquerading in the body of a woman.
Marcus glanced at Rowan. The devil was the woman he loved. How must he feel right at this moment? Marcus couldn’t begin to imagine and wasn’t about to ask. He just moved to Rowan’s side, letting him know of his presence.
It was all the support he could offer, but Rowan seemed to sense it, flashing a quick glance over his shoulder and nodding silently.
They walked down the stairs and along the path leading to the cliffs and the Chyne. Marcus had seen it before, but never up close. And especially not at night. Their pace was slow as their steps took them down over the rough ground, pebbly with chalk and lined by wild grasses. Sidney needed the time to negotiate his way carefully and they were all quiet with their own thoughts.
The breeze picked up and clouds scudded nearer, threatening to hide the waning moon as the storm loomed closer to the shore. The tang of the sea was strong in Marcus’ nostrils—a soft salty fragrance he found he liked. It was clean, somehow, fresh and invigorating.
He took a deep breath and began the descent down a roughly hewn set of steps to the beach. This was where the little river met the ocean and marked the end of the Chyne.
Long ago it must have been impressive, a sharp slash into the cliffs, white with chalk and tumbling waters into the sea. Now it was gentler, overgrown with the wild plants that thrived in such places.
There were caves a little way up the Chyne and it was to these caves they headed, firmly believing that if Thérèse was indeed on their shores this was where she would establish her lair.
It was dark as they stepped out onto the beach, the pebbles crunching beneath their feet. There was no way to silence the sound, Marcus knew. He also knew that Thérèse’s hearing would detect their presence, no matter how silently they approached.
One of the many disadvantages of going up against a superior creature. He sighed. They had so little with which to do battle. She had so much.
As if he felt Marcus’ thoughts, Rowan dropped back a little and rested a hand on Marcus’ shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“As am I. There is nowhere else I’d rather be, my friend.”
A quick hard grasp from strong fingers answered him. “And no one I’d rather have by my side.”
“This way.” Surefooted, Adrian chose the easiest path inland, a narrow strip of turf that bordered the tiny rippling stream.
Marcus knew from listening to the Chesswell stories that this stream could become a raging torrent within moments, so he eyed it respectfully and followed Adrian’s lead as best he could. Right about now he could have used some of that superior vampiric vision.
“There—up ahead—” Katherine bit off her words as she lifted a hand and pointed to a dark opening in the now-gray chalk wall beside them.
Marcus squinted then saw what Katherine had seen—a tiny flicker of light.
“I see it.” Nick muttered as he quickened his pace.
“Easy, Nick.” Sidney cautioned. “Nothing to be gained by rushing. She knows we’re here, knows we’re coming. Take your time, step care
fully and conserve your strength.”
Marcus swallowed as he sensed the words Sidney had left unspoken.
You’ll need it.
Rowan shared Nick’s sense of urgency. He wanted to be there, to see her. To look into her black eyes and find—something—something that would make this night easier. Some remorse, perhaps. Some love…he had no idea. Just a lot of wild thoughts rampaging through his brain.
They drew nearer the cave and Rowan could clearly make out the tiny twinkle of a lantern or a candle in its depths. She was in there, no doubt about it. And the lantern could only be for them—she would not need it.
Come to think of it, neither did they. Perhaps it was for Sir Sidney’s benefit. He neared the older man. “She may have lit that light for you, Sidney. We don’t require such things. But she knows that you would. As would Marcus…”
Sidney stopped for a moment and caught his breath, leaning heavily on his cane. “’Tis possible, yes. She must know I would not let any of you do this without me. I cannot decide if it’s a nice thought on her part or an attempt to make sure I see her destroy you all.” A wry laugh huffed from his throat. “Either way, I’m not complaining about the light. It will help me at least.”
Slowly they gathered, staring at the entrance. Rowan glanced around him, realizing how nature had obligingly created an entrancing spot with a view of the sea that would be delightful under other circumstances.
The lip of the cave was a tall step beneath which was a small grassy area on which they now stood. The cave itself was wide and deep—how far back it might go, Rowan had no idea.
Were they to enter and seek her out?
Apparently not, for as they stood together Thérèse appeared. Silhouetted against the glow, she was nothing short of magnificent.
Clad in a simple white shift, her body shone through the flimsy stuff, obscured only by the tumble of fiery red hair that fell in waves to her waist. Rich flames flickered through the curls as distant lightning crackled through the onrushing storm.
“Well, well. How lovely.” She purred the words, clearly audible over the sounds of the surf and the wind.
Rowan stared at her. She was—unbelievably beautiful. A goddess perhaps, albeit one from the depths of hell.
Casually she lifted a hand and her clothing fell to her feet, revealing the perfection of her body. “Have you come to play?”
Nick and Adrian stepped forward, protectively shielding the women. “No.” Adrian’s word was harsh.
“You jest, my sweet. After all the fun we’ve had in the past?” Thérèse’s hand strayed to one breast, thoughtfully stroking the curve. She smiled. “You were a very good lover, you know.”
Her black eyes drifted past them to rest on Katherine and Verity. “And I see you’ve brought your bitches with you. What a good idea.”
The women stepped forward to their men.
“No more playing, Thérèse.” Katherine spoke firmly. “We’ve had enough of your games. ‘Tis done.”
Thérèse laughed then, a sound that surprised Rowan with its lighthearted note. “Oh you silly girl. And you with that red hair too. Haven’t we had fun together?” Her black eyes gleamed in a quick flash from the skies. “I remember tasting you, I think. Or was it you that tasted me?” She shrugged. “No matter. It was fun. We must do it again.”
“I don’t think so.” Adrian stood firm. “It’s over.”
Her face hardened. “It’s not over until I say it’s over.” She stepped forward a little, staring at them all in turn. “You are mine. All of you. I made you and you will obey me for as long as I wish.”
Nobody moved for a moment until Rowan pushed his way past them to stand before his love.
“Thérèse—enough now. You know this must end.”
She laughed in his face, stroking herself lasciviously, fondling her nipples to ripe buds and parting her thighs. “End? How can it end when I still yearn, Rowan, my sweet? Yearn for your cock—for their cocks too perhaps. I know…” She rose up onto her tiptoes and slipped a hand between her thighs. “All of us, Rowan. All of us fucking together. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
Rowan swallowed as the tips of her fangs protruded slightly over her lips. This was no weakened creature facing her death. This was Thérèse—as vibrant and as hungry as he could ever remember her.
“See, my darling?” She held up her hand, glistening with her own moisture. “Just the thought of us all here, naked to the sea and the storm, fucking and coming and fucking again—it makes me so excited—” She broke off with a theatrical little shiver and smiled at Rowan. “How good it will be, my love. My sweet Rowan.”
Her fangs were fully extended, a dangerous situation that Rowan knew bode no good for any of them. They had to stay out of reach at all costs.
“Distract her, lad.”
The rough whisper from Sir Sidney blew past him on a gust of wind.
It had begun.
Marcus bit his lip as the overwhelming glory that was Thérèse shone down on them, an otherworldly sight that inspired awe and desire. Her body was perfect, a thing of splendor that aroused his cock even as it chilled his soul.
Her words chilled him further. She wasn’t here to die—she was here to play. And perhaps to kill.
Rowan had moved closer and was talking to her, their discourse mostly lost to him on the increased sound of the storm. The others could probably hear, but he and Sidney could only watch.
Adrian and Nick split up, slowly parting, one to either side of the entrance to the cave. Thérèse ignored them as she spoke to Rowan, her gestures revealing her needs quite clearly.
Marcus ignored his arousal, hoping and praying that his friend could do the same. It was Rowan’s job to distract her, garner her attention fully enough for the other two men to grab hold of her wrists and—well, and do whatever two vampires needed to do in order to restrain a third powerful vampire while they killed her.
Marcus sighed.
It wasn’t a very good plan, all things considered. But it was all they had.
The sword weighed heavy in his right hand as he watched Rowan close the distance between himself and Thérèse, stepping up onto the lip of the cave in front of her.
Good for you. For a precious few seconds he’d distracted her—enough for Nick and Adrian to reach the sides of the cave. Marcus, Sir Sidney, Katherine and Verity still stood together in front of it—and Thérèse.
Rowan was still speaking, then touching, stroking her, playing with her breasts, making her smile with pleasure.
Watch her fangs, Rowan, my dear friend. Watch those fangs…
Heart in his throat, Marcus sent a silent prayer across the tiny space between himself and Rowan.
Katherine and Verity began to move, slowly and silently, nearing the step up to the cave, coming ever closer to Rowan and Thérèse as they touched each other. Marcus and Sir Sidney followed, doing their best to keep their footsteps as quiet as possible.
“Ahh, Rowan. You are my best fuck of all. Such a wonderful cock, so long, so hard—you fill me like no other.”
Thérèse was fully aroused now, her breasts full and swollen, nipples puckered tightly at their tips. Moisture gleamed on her white thighs, tiny diamonds reflecting the lightning flashes and dappling the fiery hair of her mound. The storm illuminated her sensual perfection.
And her silvery sharp fangs.
She must not feed again, realized Marcus. Whatever strength she possessed must not be augmented by another feeding. It would be the end of all of them.
He slipped to the very brink of the cave, standing close enough to Rowan to touch him. If she showed any signs of taking Rowan’s blood, Marcus would pull him away. He’d fall down the step from the cave, but a broken bone or two wouldn’t matter next to what they all stood to lose.
Rowan’s caresses continued and when he thrust his hand to her pussy and found her slick darkness, she cried out. “Ahhh, yes, my darling. Just like that, fuck me there with your fingers…”
&
nbsp; Oblivious to the others, Thérèse was doing what she always did—taking what she desired at that moment. Had she forgotten them? Or were they all so insignificant beside her pursuit of pleasure that they simply did not matter?
Marcus didn’t know. What he did know was that Adrian and Nick were now in the cave with Thérèse and Rowan, standing quietly to either side of her—waiting—
For that moment—the moment when Thérèse flung her arms wide as she rode Rowan’s fingers to her climax.
They grabbed her wrists, Adrian pulling hard on one side, Nick on the other.
Thérèse howled her orgasm then shook violently as she discovered her captors.
“Move, Rowan. Step away—now.” Marcus found the scream had come from his own throat as he watched Thérèse’s fangs lash perilously near Rowan’s face as she struggled.
“How dare you?” She hissed the words as she tugged and pulled and finally fell onto the stone floor, still unable to free herself.
Rowan staggered backward and tumbled from the cave, nearly impaling himself on Saint Chesswell’s sword that Marcus held at the ready. “Jesus God, man. Be careful.”
Rowan never heard him. His eyes were misted with the tears that fell down his cheeks and his cock a hard bulge beneath his black breeches. A sob tore from his throat.
“Thérèse…” He stumbled to his feet and watched as Nick and Adrian fought to hold her still.
“Quickly…the sword…” Adrian spat out the command even as his body moved, weak against one so strong.
“It’s our turn.” Katherine and Verity took the sword from Marcus and hurried up into the cave.
“Kat…” Adrian swore luridly. “Nick—can you—”
“No, fuck it. She’s too strong…”
“Hold her still, God damn it…” Verity shrieked over the wind as she and Katherine both gripped the sword and fought for control of the heavy weapon.
But even if they had managed to control it, they could not control Thérèse. She writhed madly, kicking and lashing her fangs around her in a savage search for a victim. Adrian and Nick were clinging to her wrists with every iota of strength they had—and yet it still was not enough.
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