The King's Vampire

by Brenda Stinnett

  “There was three women found at Middle Temple Lane by the Pump Court.” Godfrey took a deep breath before continuing, “The women, what was left of them, was in bad shape.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “All three women had the flesh ripped from their bodies and their throats. Black and blue their throats was, and one of them had missing body parts.”

  “Missing body parts?”

  “Like her head and hands was gone.”

  “Bloody hell, what vampires would behave so savagely in these dangerous times? Didn’t you warn them?”

  “These vampires haven’t gone after human flesh for several years. I guess they lost their heads.” Godfrey gulped when Darius glowered. “Sorry, Sire. I wasn’t trying to make a jest.”

  “If the witch hunters have been called, I don’t expect there’s anything I can do for you. You’ll have to leave London.”

  “At least talk to the others and warn them not to go after the humans again. You could become Lord Mayor of the vampires again if you wanted to.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t want any outsider’s interference.”

  “Looks like I couldn’t have made no bigger mess if I’d been trying to on purpose,” Godfrey said. “Just come to the George and Dragon at midnight tonight and talk. Leastways, try and calm the others down and explain how we can best prepare for the worst.”

  “I’ll try. I’m not sure what the worst might be. I’ve got my own concerns with these psychic vampire demons. If you’re all driven out of London, I’ll be completely on my own with them. They’ve got the wolves on their side.”

  “Bloody shape-shifters,” Godfrey said, before he spat on the ground.

  Darius moved his feet out of harm’s way. “Go home and try to stay calm. None of you draw any attention to yourselves.”

  “There’s more, Sire.”

  “What else?”

  “You know that skinny, bean-pole vampire with the jet-black hair and obsidian eyes, the one by the name of Ashley? You know the one, the troublemaker.”

  Darius couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice when he repeated back, “He’s the troublemaker, is he?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.” Godfrey seemed oblivious to the sarcasm. “Well, he’s telling the vampires they should stage a vampire killing and make it look like I done it. He wants to sacrifice me for the sake of the others.” The little fellow’s voice cracked.

  “I can’t say I blame them, but I don’t think it would help anyway. It wouldn’t keep the witch finder off the vampires’ trail.”

  “You’ll tell them that at the meeting tonight won’t you, Sire?”

  “I’ll do what I can, even though you deserve whatever punishment the immortal vampires want to inflict on you. Be careful when you have to feed.” He watched Godfrey wind his way through the crowd of men at the tables when he left the inn.

  There was going to be more trouble than Darius had bargained for. Those damned psychic vampire demons were relentless, and they wouldn’t rest until they’d fed upon the life essence and the very soul of all human beings. The world would become a much worse place than it already was if he didn’t come up with a plan to contain the demons.

  He then thought about Elizabeth and the way she gave him joy without pain, love without doubt, and courage without fear. If only she could be part of his life always and forever. He shut his eyes, sending up a prayer she might be kept safe when all hell broke loose. If the vampires had to leave London that would mean Elizabeth would leave, too.

  Chapter 13

  Her apartments were magnificent. Elizabeth found Charles had given her twelve rooms with six on the bottom floor and six on the second floor. The rooms were located along the riverfront, and when she explored, she discovered a narrow hallway and staircase that led to the king’s apartments. With an impatient sigh, she shook her head, knowing that meant trouble for her. Given the king’s reputation, she’d be naïve if she thought he’d given her this appointment just to please his wife, or out of the kindness of his heart. She refused to worry because she felt certain she could handle him when the time came.

  Apparently, the king wasn’t always subtle in his designs. In her bedroom, she had one wall painted a soft gray with the mythological scene of Aphrodite rising from the foam in beautiful orange and turquoise colors. Gold leaf paneling gleamed from the walls of all the rooms while the floors were of Purbeck marble. Persian carpets were scattered everywhere, and she had to step carefully onto them, or risk taking a tumble. Her rooms were vibrant and sensual, almost having a life of their own.

  Once she’d finished directing her maid on unpacking, she heard the ticking of claws on marble in the hallway of her antechamber. Three of the king’s spaniels dashed into her bedchamber, scampering just in front of their master. Elizabeth’s own dog’s hackles rose and he growled, before she tossed him onto her bed and tugged the velvet curtains together.

  “Good evening, madam. I hope the apartments are everything you hoped for and you’ll be quite comfortable here.”

  “Yes, thank you, Sire, it’s all amazingly beautiful.”

  She felt uncomfortable having Charles in her bedchamber, but then she remembered that as king, he was free to come and go as he pleased. She’d have to keep that in mind for future reference. With a wave of her hand, she dismissed the maid.

  He looked around. “Show me the drawing room. I’d like to see how it looks since it’s been redecorated.”

  “Certainly, Your Majesty.” She curtsied and led him into the huge room fronting the river. The walls were covered with a cream and gold brocade, three Venetian chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and a music room led out directly onto the river. She stood in the middle of the room with arms outstretched. “How do you like it?”

  “It’s beautiful. I had the servants put several small tables around because I like to have meals served in the French buffet style.”

  She frowned at his presumptuousness, assuming she’d like to dine in this manner, too, but he was the king. “It’s all lovely, Your Majesty. I thank you for your generosity.”

  “Please call me Charles when we’re alone.” He gave her a slow, sensuous smile, while his black eyes sparkled with a boyish mischief. It was impossible not to give him an answering smile.

  “Yes, Charles.” His great charm radiated outward and surrounded her. He seemed so honestly pleased with himself that she quickly understood why so many women were in love with him. He made her feel so comfortable it was hard to imagine this, indeed, was the monarch of England, Ireland, and Scotland, chatting with her as though they were equals.

  They strolled out into the music room, and Charles threw open the French doors leading to the Thames. He looked out on the bustling river where the light from the moon glimmered. “It’s a good place to raise ducks or drown children.”

  At first, her mouth dropped open, but when she saw his smile, she gave a burst of laughter. “I don’t think I’ll be doing either of those things here, but it might be useful when I go back to the country.

  “Pity,” he said with an answering smile, “ducks are nice. By the way, my wife is giving an intimate supper tomorrow night to welcome you to the palace. I hope you will feel rested enough to attend.”

  “It would be my pleasure, Your Maj . . . Charles.” She basked in the warmth of his smile.

  “I’ll see you then. I’m glad you’re here, Elizabeth. I think we shall become good friends.” He snapped his fingers, the spaniels came skittering back, and then he left.

  She breathed a sigh of relief that he’d made no attempt at seduction, but if she were honest with herself, a twinge of disappointment nipped at her heart. What woman wouldn’t feel flattered to have the king of England attempting to seduce her? When he made no such attempt, it left her with that old sense of inadequacy she’d had as a child.

  She didn’t have time to dwell on her wounded pride for too long. The maid rapped on her door to announce another visitor. “His Grace, the Duke of
Buckingham is here to see you, Your Ladyship.”

  “Have him enter my antechamber and I’ll be with him presently.”

  The young lady curtsied and left.

  Elizabeth stared into a mirror, surprised by the wildness in her eyes, a startling contrast to her pale skin. She leaned over her dressing table and took a fine brush and rubbed it against some red Spanish paper, and then brushed it against her cheekbones. It wouldn’t do to look so ghostly pale at the king’s court. She’d have trouble enough keeping people from asking questions because she’d never be able to go out in daylight hours. Of course, Charles’s entire court seemed to keep nighttime hours in pursuit of their pleasures, so she should fit right in.

  She walked into the antechamber, and Buckingham arose from the gilt chair and kissed her hand. His profile reflected a haggard, corrupted elegance.

  “Your Grace,” she said with a nod. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

  “I’ve come to see how you like your new living quarters.” He looked around and gave a low whistle. “It looks like the king has spared no expense for his newest consort.” He strolled over and touched the ebony statue in the guise of a Greek warrior, pressing his finger against the dagger the warrior held. When Buckingham drew blood, he suggestively raised his finger to his mouth and sucked up the drop of blood.

  Already strained by the king’s visit, she refused to take up whatever gauntlet he’d intended. “What do you want, Your Grace?”

  “So now you are one of the king’s pets. How does it feel?” He sat down and patted a velvet-padded chair beside him. “Come. Let’s sit and talk. There’s no need for us to be enemies. How do you suppose Charles will feel if he finds out you’re a vampire?”

  “If you’ve come to insult and threaten me, you may as well leave now.”

  “I won’t betray you, Elizabeth, that’s not what friends do. However, I have talked to your husband, Sir Michael Horbury. He tells me he’s still madly in love with you and would do anything to get you back as his wife. Perhaps you might need protection from him. Who knows what he’ll do if you refuse him.”

  “I’m tired, Your Grace. If you have something to say to me directly, please speak plainly.”

  “Call me George when it’s just the two of us. I feel we’ll become close friends.” He raked his eyes up and down her body. “Has anyone ever told you how much you resemble my cousin, Barbara Palmer? At least you look like her when she was a good deal younger and a good deal happier.”

  “It’s been mentioned.” Elizabeth said, narrowing her eyes. “But will you please get to the point of your visit. I have things that need attending.”

  He raised his left hand, palm outward. “I’m just saying we’d like Charles to become an immortal vampire such as yourself, and who better to turn him than someone with whom he’s become infatuated with . . . a person like you.”

  “Why do you want him an immortal vampire and not a psychic vampire demon?” She looked at him searchingly, seeking the truth of his answer in his expression rather than his words.

  “Psychic demons only have a human life form of one hundred years. After that, I will no longer be the handsome man you see before you.” He spread out his arms and bowed.

  “Do you mean you’ll look like Julian?” She couldn’t keep the shudder out of her voice.

  “Unfortunately, yes, leathery skin, pus-filled eye sockets and all. It’s not a very pleasant thought for most humans. The demons need the immortal vampires for appeal.”

  “Why did you ever agree to such a thing?”

  “The demons are extremely tempting to an evil man. They offer a purity of evil not often seen in the human world. Everything is done for power and selfish gain, with no façade of kindness or human pity. More importantly, they have more powers than immortal vampires.”

  “What kind of powers?”

  Buckingham smiled, and then, without moving a muscle, all the gilt chairs lining the wall of her antechamber flew across the room, crashing to the other side. “I know what you’re thinking, and no, that’s not all we can do. Besides reading minds, we can create flames of energy through the power of our minds. I thought you’d prefer I didn’t demonstrate that one.”

  “Thank you,” she said dryly, “but I don’t need to see because Darius has the same talent. Are there any more powers I should know about?”

  “I’ll save that information for another time when I’m certain you’re willing to join us. Think of it, Elizabeth, if King Charles Stuart II lives forever, we can rule the world through him. The idea has incredible possibilities.” He held up a hand when she started to speak. “Don’t answer me now, but give it some consideration. Just remember, I’ll need to know soon.”

  She looked deep into his eyes and fought back a shiver when she saw more of the psychic demon he would one day become. His eyes held the cold abandonment of an unmarked grave. Although he wore a neatly curled periwig, and his gold brocade coat and breeches were in the latest fashion, his ruthless expression gave him a hollow, savage look. The sharpness of his facial features emphasized the cold cruelty of his glacial blue eyes, diminishing the civility of his manners and dress.

  An icy chill marched down her spine. She struggled not to let him know what she’d seen in his face. “It grows late, Your Grace. I believe it’s time for me to retire.”

  He arched his eyebrows and stroked his blond mustache with his index finger. “I disagree, my lady. It’s just come on the midnight hour, which is our best time. I believe some call it the witching hour.”

  “Nonetheless, I need time alone, Sire.” Elizabeth, exhausted by the charade of politeness, curtsied, and stood, motioning him impatiently through the door.

  Buckingham bowed. “Don’t wait too late before giving me your answer.”

  Back in the privacy of her own bedchamber, she kicked off her shoes and undressed, putting on her dressing gown. She preferred her privacy because she suspected Buckingham of already paying her servants to spy on her, so she refused to call her lady-in-waiting to assist in her undress. She slipped on her mules and sat at the dressing table, slowly taking the bodkins from her hair and brushing her hair until it gleamed in the candlelight.

  A strange noise came from beneath her bed. It sounded like heavy breathing, but it wasn’t like the gurgling noise of Julian’s breath, rather more of a panting sound. Then a dull thud caused the floor to vibrate. What now, she wondered? Taking a deep breath, she went over to the fireplace and picked up a poker. She walked slowly to the bed. The candles in the wall sconces flickered and the room seemed filled with a foggy haze. Her dog Charlie yipped wildly.

  Her stomach tightened and her heart pounded. She crept toward the sound of the intruder. The dog stayed close at her heels. Moonlight from the diamond-paned windows streamed in and aided her ability to see, even though her night vision was excellent. She bent over and rammed the poker swiftly beneath the bed, causing a loud howl to echo from below. It was a shriek like she’d never heard before. Charlie ducked beneath her dressing gown.

  Elizabeth jumped away from the bed. Just then, a dark shadow crossed over her. A huge, silver and black trimmed wolf with drooling, sharp fangs now stood between her and the bed.

  She tried screaming but nothing came out. A disgusting odor filled the room, and the wolf rose up, placing his sharp claws on her chest. Charlie came from beneath her skirts and tried to bite the wolf’s haunches, but the wolf ignored him.

  Lightheaded and nearly paralyzed with fear, Elizabeth forced herself to push Charlie away from harm. Light from the moon slid past the wolf’s ferocious face, casting it in shadows, but she still realized he was one of the psychic demons’ wolves. She smacked the poker against his chest, and he dropped down to all fours, shifting into the shape of a man. A totally nude man now crouched on all fours on her bedroom floor, his lean and sinewy body rippling in the moonlight.

  Taking two steps backward, Elizabeth groped for a quilt that lay at the foot of her bed. Still maintaining her dis
tance, she tossed it to him. “Please cover yourself. I don’t think I’d be able to explain to the king a strange, naked man in my apartments.”

  He stood up and casually wrapped the quilt around his waist. She still had a disconcerting view of his well-defined chest, and his very broad shoulders. With a twinge of guilt, she noticed blood had matted the black hair of his chest above his left nipple.

  “Are you satisfied now?” he said in a gravelly voice that sounded more like a growl.

  “Yes. Well, no. I’m sorry you’re hurt, but you had no business intruding into my bedchamber.”

  “You stabbed me with that poker.”

  “What did you think would happen when you hid beneath my bed, and then pounced upon me?”

  “You hurt me,” he whimpered.

  “Don’t be such a baby. Let me bandage it.”

  “I guess.”

  She went over to a cupboard and found an old smock, which she expertly tore into narrow strips. The maid had left her water in a basin, so she poured some water onto one of the bandages and washed off the blood before tying another strip firmly around his chest.

  “Thank you,” he said, staring at her with such an avid curiosity she found herself staring right back.

  He wasn’t much taller than she was, and he had a lean, hungry look, still appearing wolf-like in his human form. His hair was silver with a black forelock, his eyes were golden, and the hair on his arms and chest was thick and black, while his face had the silver stubble of a man who didn’t take the time or trouble to shave often.

  “Who sent you?” she asked, stepping to her dressing table and picking up a bottle of perfume. She opened the stopper and doused him with perfume.

  “What are you doing?” He dodged away.

  “Your wolf-essence is a bit strong,” Elizabeth said. She crinkled up her nose. “Now tell me why you’re here before I decide to call the guards.”

  “I’m a wolf, so what do you expect me to smell like? It was Buckingham who told me to guard you.”

  She sniffed. “Was it to guard me or to spy on me?”