“Do you travel alone?”
Damn. That was the one question Lorcan had hoped to avoid. If he said he was on his own and Tibor subsequently discovered he was lying, the vampire prince would have no hesitation in sending out the word to have him captured. He very much doubted a necromancer would get a fair trial in vampire territory. He might as well offer Tibor his throat now. He stifled a sigh. “No, I am traveling with a companion.”
“And who accompanies you on your journey?”
Lorcan drew a breath. “The Crown Princess Tanzi of the faerie dynasty.”
If he didn’t have Tibor’s full attention before he spoke those words, he certainly had it as soon as they left his lips.
* * *
Tanzi upended the bag she had brought with her when she fled her father’s palace in search of Lorcan. She hadn’t looked at its contents since Lorcan had retrieved them from the imps, and the items spread on the bed belonged to another time. How long ago it seemed, that foolish flight when she had no idea of where she was going or how she would find Lorcan. I’m glad of the naïveté that led me into that mad, headlong dash. No matter how much I deplore the way it must end, I can’t regret this time with Lorcan. Now, did I pack anything suitable for dinner with the Prince of the Vampires?
When she emerged on deck, she wore a sleeveless, white lace shift dress that skimmed her thighs. Intricately tied sandals on her feet and simple pearls in her ears perfectly matched the color of the dress and complemented the pale sheen of her skin. Her hair hung in loose, gold waves almost to her waist. Lorcan stared at her for a very long time.
“Is something wrong?” she asked at last.
Slowly, he shook his head. The look in his eyes turned her insides to liquid. “You look good enough to eat. Which is a worry considering who our host will be.”
“Must we go?” The thought of meeting Tibor again unnerved her. It was a link to her father—to the past life she thought she had severed completely—that she didn’t want. All she wanted to do—right now and for always—was be alone with Lorcan.
“He was most insistent. You know Tibor. All charm, but the subtext was clear. If we want our safe passage, I must bring you to dinner tonight.”
“Is it a trap?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” His headlamp grin flickered. “We have to walk into it and see what happens.”
“I wish you’d find another way of detecting a trap,” she grumbled, as he handed her into the dinghy.
“Sure, aren’t I just a simple Irish lad with no guile about me?” His accent was more pronounced than ever.
“No, Lorcan, you’re not.” She gave him a stern look and he met it with an innocent gaze. Even though he poured himself into her with a passion that scorched and astounded her, and afterward held her in his arms each night while—she strongly suspected—watching her as she slept, he remained unfathomable. Since that one occasion when he had told her he was an immortal hybrid, there had been no more confidences. She sensed he regretted that one. But, because she loved him, she knew much more about Lorcan than his words could ever tell her. She knew that behind the laughter there was immense sadness. Something had damaged him and he was determined to keep whatever it was hidden and secret. Most of the time he was very good at it. Now and then the mask slipped and the hurt in the clear blue depths of his eyes made her heart ache.
Lorcan explained that Tibor had instructed him to take the dinghy around the headland and into the hotel’s private bay. “Which is a bonus. One climb up those steps in a day was quite enough.”
He stretched his long legs out in front of him with a grimace. Although he wore jeans and boots, he had graced the occasion by donning a crisp white shirt that enhanced his muscular chest and biceps. His freshly washed hair flopped forward and he tossed it back in a characteristic gesture. Tanzi’s chest constricted with love.
“Don’t look at me like that in front of Tibor, Searc.”
“Like what?” Her voice was slightly husky.
“Like you want to rip my clothes off.”
“I always want to rip your clothes off.”
Lorcan gave a soft groan. “What are you trying to do to me? Let’s save this conversation for later, when we can see it through to a satisfactory conclusion. The story I’ve told Tibor is that I’m escorting you on a mission on behalf of the Alliance. We’re going to the Isle of Spae, one of the largest and most remote islands of Otherworld. The inhabitants rarely engage with anyone outside of their own shores, but Cal wants to discover if they want representation on the council. To reach Spae, we must pass through Tibor’s territory.”
“You came up with that tale very quickly. I didn’t even know the Isle of Spae existed. It’s not on any of the maps Cal left us.”
“That’s the way the Spae prefer it.” His face was turned away from her, his expression curiously closed. If they’d had time, she would have liked to ask him more about his connection to the Spae.
The dinghy appeared tiny alongside the sleek yachts in the marina below the castle walls. Once Lorcan had tied it up and helped Tanzi onto the quayside, a dark-suited figure appeared as if from nowhere and bowed low before her. “Your Highness. I am Nicu, attendant to the prince. It is my honor to serve you.”
Ignoring Lorcan, Nicu led the way along the quayside and into the grounds of the castle. The message was clear. Only one of Tibor’s guests was important enough to warrant any attention. Tanzi cast a rueful glance in Lorcan’s direction. Although he made no comment, his eyes twinkled and one side of his mouth lifted in an appreciative half smile.
The inside of the castle was every bit as elegant as its exterior. White marble floors, gold-colored upholstery and antique furnishings were complemented by vast crystal chandeliers and exquisite paintings. Tibor was waiting for them at the foot of a sweeping staircase, and one look at his face was enough to confirm Tanzi’s fears. His feelings had not changed. His light eyes blazed with the same passion they always had when he looked at her, only now his smile held a hint of triumph that she found unnerving. Why should he feel triumphant? She had no qualms about meeting his gaze. He could not bind her with his vampire stare any more than she could enchant him with her faerie glamor.
“Princess.” The word was a caress as he raised her hand to his lips. Tanzi risked another swift glance in Lorcan’s direction. All trace of the smile had vanished and she was instantly aware of his alert expression, the lithe, coiled strength of his body. It was going to be a long night.
She tried to dredge up a memory of that other Tanzi, the one who existed before the day when Moncoya made his fateful announcement about her forthcoming marriage to the devil. How would that Tanzi have acted in this situation? To her shame, she suspected the other Tanzi might have flirted with Tibor, even encouraged his advances. “I was honored to receive your invitation, Tibor.”
“The honor is all mine.” Lorcan cleared his throat impatiently and the sound served as a reminder to Tibor that he was still holding Tanzi’s hand. He released her, bowing slightly and indicating a room on his right. “Shall we?” His smile deepened as Lorcan made a move to follow them. “There will be no need for your bodyguard to accompany us. I am more than capable of looking after you.” His silken tone became dismissive as he faced Lorcan. “Nicu will escort you to the kitchens, where the cook will provide a meal for you.”
“I am not leaving the princess’s side.” Lorcan folded his arms across his chest. It was a statement of intent.
“Such devotion to duty.” Tibor’s eyes narrowed slightly as they took in the unyielding look on Lorcan’s face.
Tanzi debated the situation quickly. They needed this safe passage from Tibor. If he refused them, they would be forced to turn back. She would be driven into hiding and, even with Lorcan at her side, she didn’t like her chances of staying concealed with Moncoya and Iago—not to mention S
atan himself—on her tail. Turning to Lorcan so that her back was to Tibor, she tried to convey her thoughts to him with her eyes. At the same time, she uttered the words he didn’t want to hear. “You may leave me with the prince.”
For a moment she thought he would refuse. His jaw was rigid and she could see the internal battle he was waging. Willing him with her eyes to comply, she bit her lip. Eventually, he drew a ragged breath before nodding curtly. “Call me if you need me.”
Turning on his heel, he strode away. Watching the proud set of those broad shoulders, Tanzi felt suddenly, overwhelmingly sad.
Tibor ushered her into an informal dining room, where a table had been set for two. “Alone at last.”
He really was such a cliché. Just not a stereotypical vampire, she thought, as he held out her chair with old-fashioned courtesy. Tibor was more her idea of a mortal playboy prince. Strikingly handsome with razor-sharp cheekbones and a square, sculpted jaw, he wore his white-blond hair so short that the stubble on his head was the same length as the neat beard framing his surprisingly full lips. In contrast to his Nordic coloring, his skin had a light gold hue. Beneath his perfectly fitting designer suit, his body was hard and toned. Although he had never shown her anything other than courtesy, Tanzi knew his reputation. His control over the vampires was absolute, and he was ruthless when crossed.
Tibor indicated the array of silver salvers that were arranged on the table. “My chef has prepared your favorite dishes.”
His words jolted her. He remembers the foods I like? Having an admirer who was the vampire overlord was one thing. This felt uncomfortably like stalking. His eyes on her face did nothing to alleviate her unease. His expression was...hungry. For the first time ever, Tanzi could have sworn she glimpsed the white gleam of his fangs as he turned aside to pour wine into her glass. Usually, Tibor was completely in control. Suddenly, it seemed he wasn’t. Perhaps sending Lorcan away had not been such a good idea, after all. Despite her strength and Valkyrie training, Tanzi knew she would be no match for a vampire. He doesn’t want to fight you, a little voice inside her whispered. It might be better if he did, another one snickered.
Although he was unable to eat any of the food, Tibor insisted on serving her himself. “We don’t want interruptions.”
He sat back in his chair, watching her as she made a pretense of enjoying the exquisitely prepared food. Her mind insisted on making contrasts. I don’t want a man who can’t eat anything. I want a man who can share pizza and beer with me. I don’t want a man who has been measured for his hand-stitched suit. I want a man who doesn’t care if his boots are worn and his jeans are frayed. I don’t want a man who looks at me as if I’m a precious jewel. I want a man who hauls me into his arms and shows me how much he wants me by taking me first roughly then tenderly. I don’t want to make polite conversation. I want to flirt and laugh and whisper nonsense after we’ve made love. I don’t want a prince. I know exactly who I want.
“Have you heard from your father since his exile?”
The abrupt question made her choke slightly on her wine. It seemed Tibor was not so lost in love that he couldn’t spare time for a little business. She shot him a sidelong glance under her lashes. It was a difficult question to answer, since she had no idea whether Tibor himself was still in touch with Moncoya. Otherworld politics were a complex affair.
In the end, she opted for a noncommittal approach. “Now, how am I supposed to answer that? If I say yes, I am guilty of treason against the Alliance. If I say no, you will see me as a disloyal daughter.”
“You are learning to be a diplomat.” His smile was genuinely charming.
“Merlin Caledonius is a good tutor.”
“This mission to the Spae is an odd one. With only the Irish necromancer for company? Hardly in keeping with your royal status.” He leaned back in his chair, deceptively casual. She was reminded of an inquisitor waiting to pounce as soon as she slipped up.
Tanzi kept her voice light. “The Spae are known for their dislike of ceremony.” Was that true? She hoped so. “It was felt a low-key approach was best.”
“The food is good?”
The change of subject caught her off guard. “Um, yes. Delicious.” She set her knife and fork down. “But I’m full. Thank you.”
Without warning, he caught hold of her hand, raising it to his lips once more. This time, there was no mistaking the glide of fangs over her flesh. It took every ounce of Tanzi’s self-control to stop herself from shuddering. “You know how I have always felt about you. Let me offer you a return to the lifestyle you lost with your father’s defeat.”
That explained the triumph. He thought she was so shallow that she would want her royal status back at any price. Let’s face it, Tanzi, that’s exactly the person you used to be. “My family is disgraced. I am no longer a fit person to rule alongside you.”
His eyes narrowed to chips of blue ice. “Let me be the judge of that. Or are you telling me you do not wish to be my wife?”
Oh hell. How was she supposed to answer that and get out of here with a safe passage? Lowering her eyes, she tried to keep her voice shy and soft. “These past months have been so difficult, Tibor. The battle lost, the faeries overthrown, my father disgraced, my sister injured...and now I am charged with this new role of envoy to the Alliance.”
“You are saying you need time to consider?” She risked a glance at his face. His expression was a combination of incredulity and suspicion.
Appeal to his chivalrous nature. Not a rule she ever thought she would apply to a vampire, but Tibor was no ordinary vampire. “You have always been so understanding.” She sighed. She decided against a flutter of the eyelashes. That might be a step too far.
He bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Very well. I will be patient awhile longer. Next time we meet, however, I will expect an answer from you, Tanzi.” This time, when he smiled, he made no attempt to disguise his fangs.
CHAPTER 15
If he hadn’t been so worried about how Tanzi was faring with her bloodsucking admirer, Lorcan might actually have been able to enjoy himself. It wasn’t often he got to set a roomful of vampires on edge with his very presence. The servants’ quarters occupied the entire basement of the castle, and it was apparent that word of his arrival had spread like wildfire. As if he was the monster in an old-fashioned freak show, every one of Tibor’s attendants wanted to get a look at the necromancer, even though he clearly struck fear into their hearts. The rumors are true, guys. I can turn each of you into a statue with a single word. Lorcan got the feeling if he said “boo” loudly enough, they would all run screaming to their master. It was worth bearing in mind. That would be one way to interrupt Tibor’s amorous plans for Tanzi.
“How did you get to be such a good cook when you can’t eat anything yourself?” he asked the chef, as the man skittered around him serving plates of delicious food.
“Before my transformation, I trained at the finest hotel in Paris.”
The only other person who ate anything was Nicu. The man was obviously Tibor’s new human slave. Dimitar’s replacement. The thought took him back to that night in Tangier. “Why would a human servant switch allegiance?” Lorcan tilted his chair back, startling a young vampire housemaid who had sneaked closer to him.
“Stupidity.” A sneer accompanied the word.
Lorcan decided he didn’t like Nicu. “Seriously. I thought you guys were bonded to your vampire master for all eternity.”
“We are. In the mortal realm we are the daylight eyes, ears, hands and voices of the master vampire we serve. Becoming a servant gives us immunity to the mind control of other vampires. Unless one more powerful than our own master wills us.”
Lorcan shook his head. “That’s not what happened with Dimitar. Jethro is not a vampire and he didn’t command Dimitar to leave Prince Tibor. In fact, he was as surprised as ever
yone else when he suddenly acquired a human servant.”
Nicu shook his head dismissively. “Not possible.”
Lorcan was tired of the man’s sour expression. “Have it your way.” He glanced at the clock that hung over the vast industrial cooker, although the action was pointless. Time meant nothing to vampires. The clock was for decorative purposes only. Its hands were frozen in position at midnight. The witching hour.
Nicu followed Lorcan’s gaze. “My master likes to take his time over affairs of the heart.”
“I’ll just bet he does.” Telling himself his feelings were rooted in his dislike and distrust of Tibor, nothing more, Lorcan scraped back his chair and rose to his feet. “Unfortunately for the prince, time is one thing I don’t have much of.”
“You will not dare disturb him!”
“Won’t I?” Lorcan made for the door. He threw a challenging look back over his shoulder. “Care to watch me?” None of the vampires moved.
Nicu was hard at his heels as Lorcan sprinted up the flight of stairs that led back to the palatial entrance hall. Touch me and Tibor will be looking for yet another human servant. Desperate for an outlet for the pent-up anger that had been fizzing inside him ever since Tanzi had dismissed him earlier, he willed Nicu to try something. Perhaps Nicu sensed it, for, although he stayed with him, he kept his hands to himself.
Shit! Which room had they gone into? He threw open two other doors before bursting into the dining room, where Tanzi was seated with Tibor.
“I tried to stop him, master...” Nicu’s voice was a high-pitched wheedle.
“Unsuccessfully, I perceive.”
Tibor’s tone sent a slight shiver down Lorcan’s spine. It didn’t bode well for Nicu later. He scanned Tanzi’s face. She returned his probing gaze with a reassuring smile. “Have you come to tell me we must go if we are to complete our journey in the allotted time?”
“If you like.” Her eyes widened in warning. Lorcan shrugged a response. He was no longer in the mood to be conciliatory.
Harlequin Nocturne May 2016 Box Set Page 44
