The King's Vampire

by Brenda Stinnett

  His expression of betrayal haunted her. She glanced around at the beautiful men and women laughing and dancing. “It looks like you have friends aplenty at Whitehall.”

  His mouth quirked upward in a cynical smile before he spoke. “These are my sycophants and hangers-on, and I could count my true friends on one hand, or actually, I could count them on one finger.”

  “Isn’t your Majesty being harsh with his subjects?”

  “My father was beheaded, I was driven from my country, I had to hide in an oak tree from my enemies, and I had to beg from my French cousins for more years than I care to count. No. I’m not being too harsh.”

  “But Sire, all those years are just that—the past. Now you are England’s beloved monarch.”

  “I know, my dear Elizabeth. And I plan to keep it all in the distant past. I shall never go on my travels again, no matter what I have to do to protect my kingdom.”

  She felt gooseflesh prickle her arms when she heard the way his voice iced over on those last words, because it had the sound of a desperate man, a man willing to do anything to save his kingdom. She started to answer, until she felt a heavy hand come down on her shoulder.

  She spun around, mouth dropping open at the sight of the man standing there. He wore a blond periwig, his coat was purple brocade, his breeches were of a gold satin, and his hose were an immaculate white. The sword at his hip had a ruby-encrusted hilt. He smiled as though expecting a royal welcome from her.

  Charles put a hand beneath her elbow. “Is Your Ladyship all right?”

  “The fault is mine, Sire,” the man said in a deep, soothing voice. “Her Ladyship hasn’t seen me in a very long time. Pardon me, for giving you such a start, madam. And pardon me for interrupting you, Your Majesty.”

  “That’s quite all right. I’m sure you must have been presented to me earlier, but I’m afraid I don’t remember your name.”

  “I’m Sir Michael Horbury, Sire.” He bowed gracefully. “I happen to be her Ladyship’s—”

  “Cousin, he’s my cousin, Your Majesty.” Elizabeth glanced from the king’s face to Sir Horbury’s, frowning and fluttering her fan as she spoke.

  Charles raised an eyebrow, mild curiosity lighting his face. “Well, we’d like you to know we have enjoyed your cousin, Elizabeth’s, company enormously. We’re hoping she will soon accept an appointment to the court as a lady of her Majesty’s bedchamber.”

  “That is quite an honor for my dear . . . cousin. I do hope I’ll be welcome to come to the palace and visit her.”

  “None more than you,” Elizabeth said with a quick curtsy, averting her eyes.

  She almost felt gratitude when Castlemaine came striding up to them, her personality so volatile her presence created the force of a hurricane, stopping all other action. Magnificently dressed as usual, she wore burgundy brocade with emeralds sparkling at her throat and ears. Her mane of auburn hair was drawn up at the crown of her head and curls tumbled around her shoulders and flowed down her back, an aggressively beautiful woman.

  “God’s eyeballs, your Majesty, I’ve lost at cards once again. I must owe ten thousand pounds.” She fluttered her fan and her eyes barely touched on Elizabeth, although she seemed to drink in Sir Horbury’s broad shoulders and his muscular form as she stared at him.

  Charles, distracted, frowned at her. “Barbara, when will you remember I’m that pauper, Charles II of England, and my parliament holds my purse strings tighter than any money lender? I want you to leave this reception before you get me into any further debt.” He turned to Elizabeth, kissing her hand before nodding to Michael. He then took Barbara’s arm and steered her away.

  Castlemaine looked back over her shoulder and gave a lusty laugh of triumph as her eyes met Elizabeth’s. Barbara blew out her cheeks and made a face at Elizabeth.

  With other matters to attend to, Elizabeth quickly dismissed Barbara and Charles from her mind. She directed her attention back to Sir Michael Horbury. “Have you gone stark raving mad? What are you doing here?” She looked around quickly to make sure they weren’t being spied upon. She looked once, then twice, when she saw Darius standing with Buckingham, both men watching her with hawk-like attention. She gave them a little wave, before focusing entirely upon Michael.

  “I must say that isn’t much of a welcome for your long, lost husband. After all, you haven’t seen me in nearly one hundred years. Don’t you think you owe me a kiss of greeting?” He leaned forward and nuzzled her neck.

  She gave him a sharp swat on the shoulder with her fan and backed away from him. “Stop making a scene, Sir, and tell me why you’ve come all this way to plague me.”

  Rubbing his arm, he appeared to sulk. “What if I tell you I’ve come to claim my wife and take her back home?”

  “You’re no husband of mine after what you did.”

  “Come, Elizabeth are you still telling that tired old story? Telling people I forced you into becoming a vampire and you absolutely had nothing to do with it?”

  “Keep a civil tongue in your head, and please lower your voice.” She led him onto a brick-paved terrace, which overlooked the formal gardens. The crisp and cold air made her shiver, while the moonlight dappling the terrace with a pale, frosty light soothed her. Elizabeth turned and faced him. She’d forgotten how handsome he was. His face blazed whiter than the moonlight.

  “I recall how much you worried about your looks. How you moaned you might someday grow old and men would no longer look at you with desire. After Christine’s death, that’s all that concerned you.”

  Elizabeth briefly acknowledged the truth of his words in her mind. After the death of her daughter and the rest of her family, her insecurity about her looks had only increased. It had seemed to be the only thing left in her world she could count on. Still, she refused to admit that to her former husband. “You lie like a dog, sir. I might have been concerned with my appearance, but I never agreed to be your vampire wife. You forced me to drink of your blood without a thought about how it might affect me.”

  Michael tilted his head back and his laughter echoed through the garden, even managing to drown out the tinkling of the flowing fountains. “Do you think I’ve forgotten the glow of interest I saw in your eyes when I explained how as a vampire you’d never grow old and you’d live forever?”

  Inside, she burned with a secret shame at the truth in his words, so she slapped his face smartly. “I never agreed to be your vampire bride, and I would never have agreed to have my soul stolen by someone like you, one so much less than human. You never even cared what happened to Christine.”

  His black eyes blazed and she drew back a little. He caught her wrist and pulled her near. “Never, ever strike me again, Elizabeth. And never, ever, say I didn’t love our daughter. Don’t misinterpret my patience with you for weakness.”

  Stunned by his savage response, Elizabeth pulled away. She breathed a sigh of relief when the Duchess of Denham walked up to them with a silvery laugh.

  “My dearest Elizabeth, who is this handsome gentleman you have kept tucked away all to yourself?”

  “A thousand pardons, Your Grace,” she said, with a sweeping curtsy. “Allow me to introduce you to my cousin, Sir Michael Horbury.”

  The duchess gave him a flashing smile and took his arm. “I seem to be without a partner, so I would be most grateful if you’d join me for this next dance, Sir Michael.”

  “You do me a great honor.” He nodded gallantly and allowed himself to be led back inside the palace by the duchess. Elizabeth watched them disappear onto the dance floor, and Amelia gave her a light airy wave and a wink over Michael’s shoulder.

  Elizabeth’s heart raced. What was Michael doing here? How could he possibly think he could take her back, and how dare he suggest her own vanity had been the cause of her becoming a vampire? She’d never have agreed to become a vampire by her own free will. It was unthinkable. She might have been somewhat vain about her looks, but she’d never have willingly given up the opportunity to someday
reunite with her daughter and her parents. The thought of what her former husband had done to her burned in her mind like a wicked flame. Somehow, she’d have her revenge upon him.

  Chapter 8

  Darius stood next to Buckingham, who posed in an elegant slouch with his hand in his pocket. His blond periwig was not so different from his own hair color, and he rubbed a finger across his sandy, finely arched eyebrows. He was dressed entirely in silver brocade, reminding Darius of an evil angel.

  Buckingham looked in the direction of Darius’s gaze. “Her Ladyship certainly seems to be attracting the attention of the gentlemen tonight. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen the king so enamored of a new woman so fast, and now, there’s that mysterious gentleman talking to her. He seems quite besotted by her charms. I have to admit, even hardened as I am to the charms of women, I find her fascinating.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Darius said, and yet he couldn’t take his eyes off Elizabeth either. “I’m sure Her Ladyship is merely being polite.” He stared at the tall, pale gentleman who now leaned even closer to her. How dare he take such liberties? He fought down the urge to march over and connect his fist to the man’s aristocratic jaw.

  The Duke of Buckingham gave a measured smile. “It has been my experience women are not often honest, especially women as appealing as Elizabeth. Women like her can have their choice of men, so who indeed can blame them? After all, honor and honesty mean nothing in this brave new world of the Stuarts. All that is important is whoring, lying, and achieving one’s own political ends, no matter at what cost.”

  “Perhaps honor and honesty mean nothing to Your Grace, but I’m sure the Countess of Kingston-Upon-Hull has a different view,” Darius said.

  He tried not to glance back over at Elizabeth, who appeared deeply engrossed in conversation with the handsome stranger. First, there had been her apparent attraction to the king, and now she was showing an unwarranted interest in this stranger. He struggled not to doubt her sincerity.

  With a careless shrug, Buckingham said, “I’m sure you know the lady far better than I do. God, what sensual eyes she has. They are violet, aren’t they?”

  Scarcely paying attention to what Buckingham said, Darius nodded, and continued to stare. Even with his keen hearing, he couldn’t discern the conversation between her and the two men. She caught him watching. She gave him what he thought to be a guilty wave, before focusing her total attention back on the handsome stranger. What could she be saying to him that made his eyes light up with interest? Alarmed, he watched them stroll out onto to the terrace together. He forced himself to focus back on the conversation with Buckingham.

  Buckingham’s jaw dropped. “Darius, what’s happened to you? What have you done?”

  Darius straightened his cravat and drew back his shoulders. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Your coloring has changed to an almost olive tint. You no longer have the alabaster skin of an immortal vampire.” Buckingham took one step back, and then two. “It can’t be.” He brought his hand down to grasp the hilt of his sword.

  Magnetic sparks flashed from Darius’s body, and he folded his arms across his chest. “What are you trying to say?”

  Buckingham’s face grew paler, and the purple shadows deepened below his hollowed-out eyes. “How did this happen? How did you, of all people, become a demon slayer?”

  “It’s not me, it’s in the blood. I have eight hundred years of this blood flowing through my veins, and it’s a birthright bequeathed to me by Charlemagne. I believed I could serve him best as an immortal vampire, but I was wrong. Now I serve him as a demon slayer.” He didn’t trouble to keep the pride from his voice.

  Buckingham glanced in every corner of the room, before he brushed an imaginary speck of lint from the sleeve of his coat. “You’ve been in communication with Charlemagne?”

  “I’ve not just spoken with him, but I’ve seen him. I mean to say I’ve seen his spirit.”

  The Duke’s face hardened and his eyes gleamed with an unrepressed violence. “This isn’t Charlemagne’s battle. Why should he interfere between the psychic and immortal vampires? He’s not been involved with them before this.”

  “Perhaps he finds it troubling one so close to the royal court has become a demon.” Darius ran his eyes up and down Buckingham with impunity, taking in his aristocratic features, bloated and slightly decaying from his dissipations, as well as from his damnation.

  “Don’t interfere in things that don’t concern you, Darius. You immortals are barely surviving in this world. It’s time to let the psychic vampire demons take charge. Together, we’d be without equal in power.” Buckingham’s hand clenched his sword hilt tighter.

  “My path is now that of a “slayer” and the path against evil has become my birthright. I’ll continue this quest until the end of time. I’m not a mortal who has the privilege of death. I have a destiny to extinguish evil wherever it exists. Take care, Buckingham.”

  He raised his hand in protest. “Spare me the details of your heroic duties. I’m no longer mortal either, and I’ve discovered evil flourishes like the green bay tree. Charles has forgiven me before, and he will forgive me again, no matter what I might do. Time is on my side. I’m warning you that you’d best not interfere with any plans of the psychic vampire demons.”

  “Time is not measured in my blood by minutes or hours, but rather in the centuries that lay ahead, no limits, no boundaries. I have no walls to prevent me from fulfilling my destiny. I will never accept the rule of demons.”

  “If you wish for an example of evil succeeding, look to my cousin, the Countess of Castlemaine,” the duke said. He nodded at the woman heading in their direction. “She has the personality of a fishwife and the cruelty of a Roman gladiator, and yet, she is extraordinarily successful in achieving her goals.” He turned to her just as she strode up to them.

  “Barbara, my darling cousin, how wonderful you’re looking this evening. We were just this minute speaking of you.”

  “It was all good, I’m sure, George.” Castlemaine outstretched her arms and swirled around with emeralds sparkling from her neck and wrists, while her brocade dress glistened ruby-red in the candlelight. “Do you like my gown? It cost a thousand pounds of Charles’s money. Unfortunately, he forbade me from gambling anymore tonight and now he’s disappeared with that slut, Nell Gwynn. I have no one to see me to my apartments.” Her violet eyes glimmered, and she tossed her auburn curls to one side. She gazed up at Darius in an appraising fashion.

  He bowed graciously, but backed away from the elemental force of her personality. Startled, he stopped and stared more closely at her uncanny resemblance to Elizabeth. Unfortunately, she seemed to misinterpret his attention for an interest in her.

  “George,” she said in a warm, throaty voice, “you haven’t introduced me to your incredibly handsome friend. Perhaps he might be kind enough to escort me to my apartments.”

  “A thousand pardons, dear cousin,” Buckingham said, with a smirk dancing across his mouth. “This is the great warrior, Baron Darius Einhard, devoted soldier to kings and emperors.”

  Barbara smiled. Her pale face glowed in the candlelight, while the apricot color of her cheeks and lips deepened. “What a delight it is to meet such a devoted subject of the king.” She drew her arm through his. “Might I ask you to deliver me in safety to my apartments?”

  Darius manipulated her arm away from his own firmly, but gently, and he drew her hand to his lips, kissing her fingertips. “I would be honored to escort Your Ladyship to her apartments, but I’m afraid I am previously engaged.”

  Barbara frowned and took her hand from his.

  “Allow me the honor of taking my lovely cousin to her apartments,” Buckingham said, with a bow and a wink at Darius.

  She opened her mouth to protest, but Buckingham took her forcibly by the arm and led her away.

  After Buckingham left with Castlemaine, Darius said aloud, “A thousand more years won
’t change my purpose. Good shall overcome evil no matter what sacrifices must be made, and devils like Buckingham be damned to Hell for all eternity.”

  He squared his shoulders and strode through the terrace doors to confront Elizabeth. She spun around with a startled look in her eyes at such a furious appearance. “Come Elizabeth, it’s time to go home.”

  She thrust her lovely jaw forward, and said, “I don’t need to leave straight away. The king is having apartments prepared for me, so I don’t even have to leave at all if I don’t wish to.”

  “The king can be damned tonight. You are coming home with me.”

  He didn’t allow her a chance to answer, but gripped her arm tightly, leading her through the drawing room, marching her down the staircase, and taking her out to the courtyard where his coach awaited them. Not allowing the footman time to help them into the coach, and with little ceremony, Darius patted her bottom and scooted her inside.

  Rattling home in the carriage, Elizabeth turned on him furiously. “What’s wrong with you? How dare you use me in this fashion? You humiliated me in front of everyone.”

  His smoldering jealousy deepened and his irritation rose. “Who was that strange man you were talking to and are so concerned about?” He wished he could be kissing her sweet lips right this minute instead of arguing.

  Elizabeth looked startled by the unexpected question. She hesitated for a moment. “If I’d had the opportunity, I would have introduced you to him. He was off dancing with Amelia.”

  He put a firm hand under her chin and forced her to look at him. “Who was that man in the blond periwig, Elizabeth? How is it you seemed to be so well acquainted with him?”

  Her lavender eyes flashed icicle sparks. “If you must know, he was my husband Sir Michael Horbury. He’s the one who turned me into a vampire.”

  Darius let his hand drop, and he stared. “That was your husband? What does he want with you now?”

  “He wants me to come back to him as any good wife might do.”