Bound by Night

by Amanda Ashley

The cat purred loudly, its golden yellow eyes unblinking. And then it pushed its head under her hand.

  “Go away!” Elena gave the cat a shove. “Go on! Get out of here!”

  With lazy grace, the cat hopped off the bed and padded silently out of the room.

  Elena stared after the beast. What on earth had just happened?

  Later, after breakfast, Elena decided she had been cooped up inside long enough. An earlier exploration of the castle had revealed a small door in the kitchen that led to a large garden surrounded by a high stone wall. The door creaked loudly, making her wonder how long it had been since anyone but herself had opened it.

  Crossing the threshold, she stepped outside, then lifted her face to the sun. Its warmth felt wonderful on her skin and she stood there for several minutes, absorbing the warmth of the light, the chirping of the birds, the faint breeze that stirred the leaves of the trees.

  A glance around showed the garden to be badly overgrown. A few primroses fought for survival in a forest of weeds. A small round fountain and a wrought-iron bench were almost completely hidden under a mass of tangled vines.

  Her only experience with gardening was growing tomatoes and carrots in a small garden in her uncle’s backyard, but she found work gloves and a pair of shears in a wooden shed and went to work with a vengeance. She worked steadily for two hours before taking a break. Stepping back, she removed the gloves and wiped the perspiration from her brow as she eyed her handiwork. With most of the weeds removed, she saw that a few daisies and daffodils bordered the primroses.

  She regarded the weeds piled to one side. She would have to dispose of them, but not just now.

  She sat in the shade of one of the trees for twenty minutes, then attacked the vines that shrouded the fountain and the bench. The vines proved to have very small, very sharp thorns. She let out a little yelp of pain when one of the nasty little spines scraped her arm, drawing blood.

  As if attracted by the scent of it, Smoke appeared with a loud meow.

  “What do you want?” Elena asked irritably. Sitting on the newly cleared bench, she pulled a tissue from the pocket of her jeans, but before she could wipe the blood away, the cat lapped at the thin line of crimson on her arm.

  Horrified, Elena sprang to her feet. She was about to lash out at the animal when she realized that the pain was gone, the shallow cut was no longer bleeding, and the skin was, in fact, knitting together even as she watched.

  She stared down at the big gray cat, who stared back at her. What kind of creature was it? Surely this was no ordinary cat.

  Telling herself she was thirsty, she hurried into the kitchen, shutting the cat outside.

  She paused a moment, her back to the door, the image of the cat licking her blood melding with a similar image of Drake doing the same thing.

  Shaken, she went to the ice chest for a bottle of water, then made her way up the stairs to the main hall. With a shake of her head, she sank down on the sofa in front of the hearth, felt an odd foreboding when the cat padded into the room.

  Jumping up on the back of the sofa, the cat purred loudly, then sat down and began to wash its paws.

  Elena shivered as a chill ran down her spine. She had shut the cat up in the garden only moments ago. How had it gotten into the castle?

  Chapter 7

  Knowing that Drake would appear with the coming of nightfall, Elena felt a growing sense of excitement as the shadows grew long. She was anxious to tell him about the odd behavior of the cat, curious to hear what Drake’s reaction would be.

  But as she thought it over, she began to wonder if she had imagined the whole incident. After all, how could a cat’s tongue heal a scrape on her arm? But something had happened, because there were no scratches on her arm, nothing to show where the thorns had nicked her skin. There should have been something there—a red line, a scab. Something. But her skin was smooth and clear.

  She was still pondering how the animal had managed to get inside the castle when Smoke jumped off the sofa and ran out of the room.

  With a shake of her head, Elena went down the stairs to the kitchen to prepare her evening meal, something simple tonight. Just a tuna sandwich, a bowl of tomato soup, and a glass of milk.

  She was washing the dishes when Drake strolled into the kitchen, his own steps as silent as those of the cat.

  “Good evening, my lady wife,” he murmured.

  “My lord,” she replied with a smile. Living here, in the castle, it was easy to believe he was indeed the lord of all he surveyed.

  Her heart fluttered with excitement as he drew her into his arms. He was so tall, so broad, so overpowering, just looking at him filled her with a warm longing to touch him and taste him, to feel his hands caressing her.

  “So, wife, what would you like to do this evening?”

  “Whatever you wish, husband,” she replied, her voice breathless with anticipation.

  His gaze moved over her, his eyes hot. “Surely you know how I would wish to spend the evening.”

  Heart pounding, mind racing, she stared up at him, mute. As enticing as he was, she was not yet ready to surrender her virtue.

  Drake chuckled softly. “Fear not, sweet wife,” he chided. “I do not intend to ravish you against your will, though you are a sore temptation. So,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets, “would you care to go for a drive?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said quickly. “Very much.”

  Drake smiled at her. “My carriage awaits.”

  His carriage turned out to be a sleek black Porsche convertible. Drake opened the door for her, then went around the car and slid behind the wheel.

  “Where are we going?” Elena asked as he turned the key and the engine purred to life.

  “Nowhere in particular,” Drake replied. “Is there somewhere you wish to go?”

  “No.”

  It was a lovely night for a drive. He put the top down, giving her a clear view of the sky. The air was warm, fragrant with the scent of night-blooming flowers. But it was the scent of the man beside her that held Elena spellbound. His profile was sharp and clear in the faint light of the dash. He glanced over at her now and again, and each time, the look in his eyes made her heart skip a beat.

  She searched for something to say to break the taut silence between them. The incident with the cat came readily to mind, but in the here and now, it no longer seemed real. Or important.

  The road they followed meandered through a moon-dappled forest and then along the edge of a cliff that plummeted straight down.

  “Do not worry, wife,” he drawled. “I have driven down this road many times.”

  Comforting words, she thought, but if the car went over the side, only an angel would be able to save her from being broken to pieces on the rocks below.

  She studied him surreptitiously as they drove along the narrow road. She couldn’t see much of his face in the light of the dash, but she couldn’t stop staring at him. There was something about him, something that drew her gaze again and again. It was an aura of power that clung to him, she realized, a sense of strength that was more than physical. But how was that possible? He was just a man like any other. Wasn’t he? And yet, there was an air about him, an old-world courtliness in the way he spoke, in some of the words he used.

  “Where do you go during the day?” she asked, somewhat abruptly. “Why is it I never see you until after dark?”

  “I have matters of business to attend to,” he replied curtly. “Matters that do not concern you.”

  “But . . .” She bit down on her lower lip. She reminded herself that she had no right to ask, that being his wife in name only didn’t entitle her to pry into his secrets. And she had a feeling there were many things he was keeping from her. Was one of them a mistress? Was that where he went during the day? And if so, she had no one to blame but herself. Not that she cared, of course. He could have a hundred women hidden away.

  Elena ran her fingers over the crease in her jeans. She would prefer a hun
dred mistresses over one, she thought. With a hundred, it was unlikely he would be overly fond of any of them. But if there was just one, that implied caring, perhaps even a sense of sharing and belonging.

  She was startled to realize that the mere idea of Drake being with another woman, sleeping with another woman, was too painful to contemplate.

  “You’re very quiet, wife,” he remarked. “Have you fallen asleep?”

  “No, of course not. I was just enjoying the night.”

  “It is lovely,” he said. “Quiet. Intimate. So few mortals take the time to appreciate its beauty.”

  “Mortals?” she asked with a frown. “What an odd thing to say.”

  “Yes,” he said, laughing softly. “I suppose it is.” He stopped the car and switched off the engine.

  She felt a rush of anticipation when he slid his arm around her shoulders. His eyes looked fathomless in the moonlight. A sigh escaped her lips when he leaned toward her.

  “A kiss?” His fingertips stroked her cheek and slid down the side of her neck. “Will you give me a kiss from your sweet lips, wife?”

  She nodded, her heart pounding as he lowered his head to hers. His kiss was infinitely gentle, his lips as light as down on her own. And yet, for all its gentleness, the touch of his mouth on hers sizzled through her like summer lightning. She felt the heat of it, the power of it, all the way to her toes.

  She knew a moment of regret when he drew away. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him to kiss her again. Instead, she folded her hands tightly in her lap.

  “Will I ever be able to go into town? I’m getting tired of spending all my time in the castle.”

  “Is that why you were out in the garden this afternoon?”

  “How did you know about that?”

  He turned to look at her, his teeth flashing in a smile. “I know everything that happens in my domain.”

  His domain, she mused with a frown. What an odd way to put it.

  “Make any changes to the house or grounds you wish,” he said. “If you need anything, you have but to let me know.”

  “Thank you.”

  “As for going into town, you are free to do so. I will set up accounts for you in all the shops. Do you know how to drive?”

  “Yes, but . . . what about my uncle?”

  “I will speak to him tomorrow night.”

  The tone of his voice left no doubt in her mind that her uncle would do whatsoever Drake asked, though it was hard to imagine Tavian Dinescu bending his will to that of another. The idea pleased her beyond words. Her uncle had had his own way for far too long.

  “I should have informed him of our marriage before now. My only excuse,” Drake said, smiling at her, “is that I’ve been too besotted with my bride to think of anything else.”

  “You’re teasing me.”

  “Not at all. Your beauty puts the moon and the stars to shame.”

  His words brought a rush of heat to her cheeks. She didn’t know if he meant them, but they pleased her just the same.

  She could feel him watching her. Was he hoping she would ask for more than kisses? Foolish question. Of course he was. He had made no secret of the fact that he wanted to make love to her.

  After a moment, Drake switched on the ignition. “Would you care to go into the city tomorrow night?” he asked after turning the Porsche toward home.

  She looked at him, her eyes alight. “I’d love that! I’ve never been anywhere.”

  “Then it will be my pleasure to take you.”

  Elena could think of nothing but the upcoming trip on the way back to the castle. Her uncle had often gone into the city, but he had never invited Jenica or Elena to accompany him. Elena had often wondered why he insisted on going alone. Jenica had been of the opinion that he kept a mistress there. Elena had been shocked by her cousin’s suggestion.

  “You’re frowning,” Drake remarked as he parked the car in front of the castle. “Is something wrong? Have you changed your mind about going to the city?”

  “What? Oh, no! I was just thinking. . . .” She paused a moment before asking, “Will we stay overnight?”

  “If you wish.” Alighting from the car, he opened the passenger door, then handed Elena out of the Porsche. He held her close for several moments, savoring her nearness, her warmth, before releasing her. “Go inside, it’s getting cold.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

  He watched her climb the stairs. A thought unlocked the castle door for her. Another lit the fire in the hearth to warm her. A third brought the candles in her bedchamber to life to turn away the darkness.

  He was raising the top on the car when a sudden ripple in the air told him he was no longer alone.

  Chapter 8

  Breathing out an irritated sigh, Drake turned to face his visitor. “Stefan.”

  “Drake. It has been a long time.”

  “Not nearly long enough.”

  “You know why I am here.”

  Drake shoved his hands into his pants’ pockets. “I can guess.”

  “You were to have returned to the Fortress a year ago. You cannot avoid him forever. The longer you make him wait, the angrier he will become.”

  “I have no desire to return to Rodin’s Coven, not now, not ever.”

  “You are the chosen one, brother.”

  An oath escaped Drake’s lips. “Let him choose Vardin!”

  “Is that what you want me to tell Rodin?” Stefan asked, his voice brittle with fear.

  “Yes. How many times do I have to say it?”

  “Our sire will not be pleased.”

  Drake snorted softly. “When have I ever done anything to please him?”

  “There is a woman in the castle,” Stefan remarked, changing the subject. “Does she have anything to do with your decision?”

  “She has nothing to do with it,” Drake said. The lie rolled easily off his tongue.

  “Then bring her with you.”

  Drake smiled as he savored the effect his next words would have. “We are on our honeymoon.”

  Stefan stared at him, his deep gray eyes wide. “You married a mortal? Have you taken leave of your senses? You know such a thing is forbidden.”

  “Yet another reason to stay where I am.”

  Stefan’s expression turned morose. “You know if you do not obey Rodin’s summons, I will be the one to suffer for it.”

  Drake rocked back on his heels. How like his sire to threaten Drake’s favorite brother in order to get his own way.

  “Rodin never did play fair,” Drake muttered. “Go back and tell him I will be there at the appointed time.”

  Stefan bowed his head in a gesture of gratitude and respect. Rodin’s temper was well known. Drake was the only one of his sons who had ever willfully defied him.

  “Stefan? A favor?”

  A faint smile tugged at the other man’s lips. “I will not mention the marriage.”

  “When you return to the Coven, the sword in my room is yours.”

  Stefan grinned. He had long coveted the ancient weapon. A wave of his hand, and he was gone.

  Keeping a tight rein on his anger, Drake covered the Porsche. He had known this day would come, had dreaded it for centuries, and now it was here. Like it or not, he would have to return to Rodin’s Coven. He would have to take his place on the Council. He would be expected to stay at the Fortress with his sire for as long as Rodin wished it.

  Drake lingered in the shadows, his resentment twisting like angry snakes in his gut. He would not seek the warmth of his bride’s bed this night, and it was all Rodin’s fault.

  Yet one more thing to hold against the man who had sired him.

  Chapter 9

  In the morning, Elena woke feeling strangely let down. Even though she had insisted on a marriage in name only, she had hoped that Drake would join her in bed last night, that he would take her in his arms. Even though she wished to remain a virgin, she yearned for his kisses, for the touch of his ha
nd in her hair, for the sound of his voice whispering that she was beautiful, desirable. He had said he would come to her. Why had he changed his mind?

  A loud “meow” announced Smoke’s presence before the cat jumped onto the bed, turned around twice, and curled beside her.

  “So,” Elena said, stroking the cat’s head, “where is his lordship this morning?”

  Another “meow” was her only answer.

  For a few moments, Elena was content to lie abed and let her mind wander while petting the cat. When she had entered the castle last night, the door had been unlocked. There had been a fire in the hearth that hadn’t been there when she’d left. Someone had lit the candles in her bedroom. Who? Was there someone else living in the castle, someone she had yet to meet?

  No sense lying there wondering about it. Smoke couldn’t give her any answers. She had a feeling she wouldn’t get any answers out of Drake, either.

  With a sigh, Elena pushed the big gray tom away. The cat hissed softly, then curled up at the foot of the bed.

  “Sleep all day if you want, you lazy beast,” Elena said, throwing back the covers. “But I’m hungry.”

  Rising, Elena pulled on her robe and descended the stairs. As usual, she found her breakfast waiting for her. Taking a seat at the trestle table, she pulled the tray toward her and lifted the lid, uncovering a meal of hard-boiled eggs, fruit, cheese, and a chocolate doughnut, along with a pot of tea. Taking a bite of the doughnut, she instantly forgave Drake for leaving her to her lonely bed the night before.

  When she unwrapped the silverware, she found a note, which read:

  Elena, my sweet, the city awaits.

  Be ready at sundown.

  Your loving husband.

  She ran her fingers over his bold signature. Your loving husband. If only it were true.

  Shortly after sundown, Drake rapped on Tavian Dinescu’s front door. It was opened moments later by Dinescu himself.

  “Yes?” Dinescu said gruffly. “How may I help you?”