Real Vampires: When Glory Met Jerry

by Gerry Bartlett

  “Perhaps I don’t care if I see it or not. Men dressed as women pretending to be lovers?” His gaze lingered on my bodice, making my breath come faster. The dress was laced so tight across my breasts they were like to pop free. “I’d much prefer to look at a real woman.” His smile made me think he’d much rather be doing, not looking. The word “lovers” hung in the air between us.

  “But I’m sure you will enjoy the next act, sir.” I glanced at the theater. I was losing my nerve. Perhaps another night . . . “’Tis most amusing.”

  He gestured toward the stage door. “Of course you wish to go in. You’re shivering. Do you have a cloak inside? May I get it for you, lass?”

  “No, I don’t have one.” I hated to admit that. “Just a shawl. I’d rather not…”

  “Ah, say no more. It doesn’t match your gown. I have sisters. I understand.” He took off his own short cloak and set it on my shoulders. “There. Is that better?”

  “Yes, and I thank you.” It smelled like him. Like man and wool and a hint of something dark and mysterious. Silly of me. What could be mysterious about a simple man in a kilt?

  “Will you walk with me?” He held out his arm.

  I glanced around. We were alone in the alley except for a few vendors counting their coins. Maiden Lane was just steps away. His smile coaxed me and his eyes… Yes, they softened as they swept over my body, lingering again on my bodice. I left the cloak open, reminding myself of why I’d come. What harm could a walk do? And there might not be another night when an interested man singled me out so quickly. I could not afford to hesitate.

  “Yes, I will.” I still held the second meat pie, a firm reminder of what this man had done and could still do for me. I took his arm. We strolled to the end of the alley until we reached the entry to the wider lane. I took a breath of the cold night air. The smells were a little better here--some foul, most better not identified. I turned to him, my smile dying when I saw him reach for his sword.

  “Don’t move, Gloriana. I’ll return in a moment.” With a move so fast I could have sworn he leaped an impossible distance, Jeremiah Campbell faced a pair of armed men who had jumped out of a dark doorway and into our path. Metal clanged and sparks flew as his sword hit a knife, knocking it to the ground.

  I gasped, falling back against the stone wall, as a man screamed and clutched his belly, desperately trying to hold himself together as blood pooled around him. I stuffed a fist in my mouth, trying not to retch when the man died in front of me. The other man swung his sword, the ring of metal on metal loud in the air.

  “Help! Someone help!” I screamed. Would no one come to aid the Scotsman? But it seemed the lane was suddenly deserted as the two men circled each other, lunging, their swords clashing. They tried to stab each other in the way I’d seen on stage, only this was deadly, not play acting at all. They struggled, pushing against each other until a sword flew across the stones and a dagger appeared in the stranger’s hand.

  “He has a knife!” I shrieked.

  I needn’t have bothered. The Scot’s fist closed around the other man’s wrist and I heard a sharp crack, then a curse, before the attacker stumbled and fled down the street. I fell back, propped against that wall. My heart thundered and I realized I had crushed the meat pie in my fist. I gagged, trying desperately not to lose the first decent thing I’d had to eat in more than a month.

  “It’s over, Gloriana. Are you all right?” Jeremiah drew me against him and pulled me back toward the alley. Of course none of the tradesmen there had ventured out to help. They knew better than to interfere with a fight or to show one of the king’s men that they might carry their own weapons.

  “All right?” I staggered, not sure I wasn’t going to swoon, then shook my head. “You just killed a man.”

  “I had no choice.” He leaned me against the wall and ran his hands over my shoulders. “Let me get you some wine.”

  “I—no!” I breathed through the urge to cast up my accounts and finally looked up into his face. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, not at all. Sorry you had to see that. I am sure you took a bad fright. ’Tis not the first time I’ve been attacked since I’ve been in London. It seems some people don’t like the Scots here with King Jamie. A more prudent man would put off his plaid, but I am proud of my clan colors.” He had obviously called for the vendor and now put a goblet of wine to my lips. “Drink. It will settle your stomach.”

  I did as he asked, sipping carefully. The wine was sweet, which was almost more than I could stand, but it did warm my insides. I took the goblet from his hand and drank it down.

  “Would you like some more?” He drew his thumb across my lips where I must have spilled a drop of wine.

  That intimate touch made me shiver and sway toward him. Was it the strong spirits? Or the gleam in his dark eyes? He was clearly excited after routing his foes. Men! Yes, he’d want to celebrate his victory with a lusty romp in his bed. Michael had been randy too, after a successful night trodding the boards.

  This was what I’d come out here for, wasn’t it? I should give him a seductive smile now, throw back my shoulders and offer him a good look at the swells of my breasts. Instead, I pulled his cloak tight around me.

  “More wine?” He took the empty goblet from my hand and set it on the stones at our feet.

  “No, but thank you. Were those the king’s enemies who attacked you?” I wanted to keep him talking. Blood ran down the middle of the alley. Not far away were the feet of the man he’d killed without a second thought. I shuddered. I wasn’t used to such violence.

  Then again, I had to admire the way he’d vanquished his foes. He’d been so strong and fearless. And had protected me as well as himself. Was that reason enough to lie with a stranger? Don’t be a fool. You have many more reasons than that to allow him to seduce you.

  “The king’s enemies or mine. There’s a neighboring clan from home that my family has been warring with for years. But those men tonight weren’t Scots. They could have been hired to ambush me I suppose but ’tis not a Scot’s way to send others to do our killing.” He shook his head. “No matter. Obviously they should have sent more than two for that job.” He grinned and put his hands on my shoulders. “I’m that sorry you were frightened, lass. There was no need. Louts like that are easily dealt with as you saw.”

  I blinked. Impossible. His smile. I’d admired his straight white teeth before. But now? I took a breath, the blood of that dead assassin fresh in the air. Blinked then looked again. His eyes narrowed and he stopped smiling. But it was too late. There was only one lantern here but I’d seen what he was hiding. Jeremiah Campbell no longer had the perfect teeth from before that fight in Maiden Lane. Now he had two enormous fangs sprouting from his upper jaw, pressing against his upper lip and changing its shape.

  I reached up, as if touching them would make them go away. He jerked back his head, proof enough for me that those terrible, frightening things were not going to disappear.

  Oh, God. The alley grew dim and the meat pie slipped from my fingers. I’d just spent the last few minutes trying to seduce a monster.

  Chapter Two

  “You will not go into a swoon.” He commanded me.

  I steadied myself. “What are you?” I shoved off his hands. There were people near enough that a scream would bring them running. Though they certainly hadn’t stirred themselves when a sword fight had gone on just steps away. God’s blood, a dead body still lay nearby and there was little interest in it except to a young boy who crept close, hoping to steal the hat and boots that could sell for good money in the stalls.

  “Stay here.” He turned, ignoring my question. “You there, lad!” He tossed a coin at the boy who had managed to snatch the cap off the dead man’s head. “Take what you want from the body but bring any scrap of parchment you find to me.”

  “Aye, sir.” The ruffian got busy, stripping off the boots first, a real prize, then going through the cloak and waistcoat pockets. He seemed not a bit put o
ff by the blood soaking the man’s shirt and pantaloons. He grunted, his grimy face alight when he pocketed several coins then pulled out a scrap of paper and brought it to the Scot. “Here ye be, sir. Nothing else but the clothes on ’is back and a sticker.” He nodded toward a dagger he’d left by the man’s bare foot.

  “Keep the knife.” Jeremiah frowned. “Mayhap it will come in handy for you.” He flipped the boy another coin then studied the paper.

  I was shaking, trying to come to terms with what I had seen. This man, whatever he was, didn’t plan to let me go. He kept a hand on the wall beside my head, between me and the vendors who were setting up for the next interval and gossiping among themselves. If they had any curiosity about what had happened at the end of the alley, they’d learned early on to keep it well hidden.

  I knew from theater gossip that many things had happened out here—murder, rape, even a baby born to one of the trollops unlucky enough to ply her trade in the street nearby. The wine and pie sellers fought hard for a place here where there was good coin to be made. They held their places by keeping their mouths shut and their goods fresh.

  Jeremiah was studying the scrap of paper and frowning. “Can you read?”

  I shook my head. I wanted to know, though it was common enough for women not to have the skill. Michael had started teaching me but had spent little time on it. He claimed I must have lost my memory of schooling along with my other memories since I was so eager to learn. I had no recollection of parents or birthplace. So we made up a background to satisfy the curiosity of the theater folk. Even a birthday, choosing the day he’d found me in that gutter. It had amused Michael. He claimed it was as if he’d given birth to me. I’d tried to remember my past but the effort always gave me an aching head.

  “I doubt the ruffians who attacked me could either. There is one word and a drawing. Not sure what it means.” He showed me a crude symbol. “Do you recognize it, Gloriana?”

  “What? Do you think I am part of a plot against you? You approached me this night.” I tried to duck under his arm. It was as I thought--he grabbed my waist and kept me from darting away toward the stage door.

  “I didn’t accuse you, did I?” He smiled and his teeth were now as even as my own.

  I looked up into his dark eyes. Had I imagined those enormous things in his mouth? Mayhap I’d been dizzy from lack of food and then there had been the wine. My head had never been quite right since the night Michael had rescued me. He’d always thought I had hit it on the rough stones in the alley where he’d found me. It was easy enough to blame my memory loss on that. There were simpletons wandering the streets begging for pennies who had taken hard blows on their noggins. Thank the gods Michael had taken me in and spared me that.

  Now I tried to get free but Jeremiah still held me firmly. “Am I your prisoner?”

  “Nay, Gloriana. But I had hoped our evening was not over.” He shoved the paper into the leather pouch tied onto his belt at his waist then turned his hold into a soothing touch. “You are very lovely.”

  I took a steadying breath. He had bought me food and tossed coins at the boy as if they were nothing. Those coins could have bought me a room for a night, maybe more than one night. If I could ignore the stench of death in the air, Jeremiah himself seemed clean and fresh. When he had fought off his attackers I’d seen how strong, how brave he was. Now he moved closer, pushing aside the cloak so he could gaze upon my breasts. He just looked, and my nipples tightened, stirred by the lust in his eyes.

  “I have never done this before.” I braced my hands on his jacket. Oh, it was the finest velvet, the richness worn by a lord. “I don’t know you.”

  “Done what? Have I told you what I want yet, Gloriana?” He teased me, his grin charming. “Perhaps it is just a stroll down Maiden Lane. Have you not walked there before?”

  I dropped my hands to place one on his arm when he offered it as any gentleman would to a lady. I appreciated the courtesy. I was nothing but a strumpet from the theater yet he was making an effort to give me my dignity. I found myself warming to him. It made me bold. “And why do I think a stroll down the lane is likely to end at your rooms, my lord?”

  “You elevate me, madam. I am merely Jeremiah to you. My father is the laird of my clan. I am his heir but do not expect to inherit for a verra long time.” He covered my hand with his then carefully steered me around that body and the boy who’d decided the pantaloons were not too soiled to sell and was struggling to pull them off the dead man.

  I held my skirt out of harm’s way and looked away. No dignity in death here.

  “Laird. That is a fine title. Is there a castle then, in Scotland?” I heard myself making conversation until we were safely past the stench of death. He answered, telling me about his family’s fine estate in the Highlands. He seemed determined to charm me. To get me into his bed? It was bound to be more comfortable than my pallet on the hard boards behind the stage. If I said no this night would he turn to someone else? The doxy with the flame red hair who’d watched us in the alley would be eager to take my place.

  I could not afford to play the coy maiden. I must be sensible. Most would say giving my body to him would be a fair exchange for a warm bed and food. I could close my eyes and pretend he was Michael if my nerve began to fail me. If my luck held, he would be kind and gentle. If not? I shivered and clung to his arm. No, I would not allow that terrifying thought to send me scampering away like a scared rabbit. While he’d been a fierce fighter, ready enough with his sword when facing his enemies, thus far he’d shown me nothing but care and concern for my welfare. Surely that tender handling would continue whilst I was in his bed.

  I walked beside him the length of the lane until he stopped.

  “Well, Gloriana. We are at the moment when you must decide. Will you come to my rooms with me? Make me a happy man?” His clasp on my hand tightened. “I will aim to give you pleasure as well.”

  I couldn’t breathe, my heart pounding with such alarm I feared I would swoon after all. I couldn’t speak, just stared at him, trying to form the words that would see to my future.

  “The choice is yours, Gloriana.” He seemed to be reading my mind again. “I willna force you. Say me nay and I will return you to Master Shakespeare and the Globe. But before you decide, let me see if I can help you make up your mind.” He pulled me into a dark doorway. No one could see us as his hands went around my waist and he pulled me close, so close my breasts pressed against his chest.

  “This is difficult for me, Jeremiah. I am not a doxy, taking coin for what should be…” I couldn’t say more, struggling to find my courage and to see him and what he was thinking with his face in shadow. “I can’t--”

  He leaned down and kissed me, taking my mouth with his. Cool lips, skilled as well. His tongue slipped inside, finding mine and playing with it until I gasped and had to hold onto his shoulders to keep from falling. I struggled to breathe as he seemed to drink me in. On and on he kissed me. Had I ever found this much pleasure before with just this? Michael hadn’t been one for kissing, wanting to “get on with it.”

  Jeremiah finally dragged his mouth from mine to trace a path across my cheeks to my neck, behind my ear and down to the swell of my bosom. I shivered with feelings that had nothing to do with the cold everything to do with a rising need. He didn’t talk, just kissed his way up to my mouth again. Gods, but the man was wicked with his tongue and his lips. I held onto his hair, knocking his hat askew as I stood on my toes to get ever closer to him. What a wondrous thing, this kissing.

  “Gloriana.” He groaned and lifted me to fit my body even more perfectly against his. One hand held my bottom and the other stayed around my waist. I could feel that he wanted me, his need hard against my stomach. He wasn’t rushing me, just letting me get used to the taste of him as we kissed and kissed and heat rose between us.

  Finally he leaned back and looked at me. His mouth was damp, his eyes half closed. “What say you?”

  I knew there was something I s
hould remember. Some warning. The fight. After the fight… But my body ached and my mouth was full of his taste. The pleasure he’d given me pushed everything else out of my mind. I took a breath and my breasts, tender and swollen, pressed even more firmly against his waistcoat. All I could think about was being naked with him, letting him inside to satisfy this yearning that made me forget I’d ever been afraid of him.

  “Take me home with you, Jeremiah. Not for coin. Never for that. I will lie with you for pleasure.” I took his hand and laid it on my breast.

  He grinned, gently thumbing my nipple before he closed the cloak I wore, his cloak. A quick kiss then he took my hand, pulling me along until we reached another alley. He unlocked a door and led me inside, picking up a torch and lighting it with a flint he pulled from that pouch at his waist. He led the way down a rough stair lined with stone until we came to a passageway. We walked along for several minutes, his torch casting shadows that made me wonder why he’d choose to live in such a place. Defense against those enemies perhaps? They would certainly never think to look for him here, under the ground.

  Finally we came to a massive wooden door covered with iron brackets that made it seem suitable for a dungeon. Jeremiah lifted a heavy knocker and banged it, three times then two. A signal?

  A huge man with a plaid thrown over his shoulders answered the door. He was dressed simply other than that. A servant perhaps. “Jeremiah, you’re late.”

  “Gloriana, this is Fergus. My father sent him with me from home. To watch over me.” Jeremiah’s laugh was not amused. “I believe you can safely leave me alone with this woman, Fergus. Unless you think she looks too dangerous.”

  “Mistress Gloriana.” Fergus bowed. “Laugh if you wish, Jeremiah.” He frowned when Jeremiah tossed him his sword. “What’s this? Blood?”

  “A minor annoyance. I took care of it.” He handed him the paper. “One carried this. Mean anything to you?”