by Sharon Page
“What is it?”
Lucy hurried down one more step, but she was so focused on him, she felt her foot stumble on a lump. Her skirt snagged tight and she lost her balance. She’d stepped on her nightgown hem. She slipped, the lace snagged on her foot like a noose, and she gasped, falling forward—
Sinjin grasped her in his embrace. He had leapt up half a staircase, and landed on the step in front of her, snatching her up in his arms to save her. “Careful, love, I’m not losing you now.”
Confusion left her head reeling. His hands wrapped around her upper arms, holding her tight. She frowned into his glittering silver-green eyes. “Two hours ago, you voluntarily stalked out, determined to stay away from me. Now you are telling me you don’t want to let me go. What do you want, Sinjin?”
“Apparently the impossible,” he muttered. Then he began to run. He did not bother to set her on her feet. Instead he whisked her so quickly up the stairs, she felt as if she’d flown up them. He kept her cradled against his chest, and for the first time, she heard his heartbeat—fast and hard and exactly like a human heartbeat. “Your heart—”
They were racing down the corridor, toward James’s room.
“We are in danger, love. All of us: you, James, and I. We have to escape.”
Faintly, Lucy heard the pounding at the door. Her heart stuttered. “Who is it?”
“Get some boots on, love, and get your cloak. We have to get out—there won’t be time to take a carriage. We’ll go out on the moors, and wait for our chance to come back and get horses. Or we’ll get to the village—”
“Stop!” She struggled in his arms. She trusted him, but she would not be carried around the house by a terrified man with no explanation. “Put me down! Who is it? We cannot go out on the moors in the night, in a hailstorm.”
The soft scurry of boots over the foyer tiles made Sinjin curse. “Damn servants. Of course they will open the door.”
“They won’t. I will stop—”
“Open up! Damnation, come and open this door. This is the Earl of Wrenshire.” Jack’s enraged shout came through the door—Lucy could hear it from so far away because of her dragon’s blood.
Sinjin had stopped, but he had not let her go. “You can put me down,” she said firmly. “It is my brother. There is nothing to worry about. I will not allow him to keep James. I know how to handle my brother.”
“Not this time, you don’t, Lucy. I overheard him talking outside, as he walked up to the house. He has come to fetch you, love, for someone who might destroy you.”
That stunned her. It was hard to find her voice. So when it came, it exploded from her lips. “Who? What are you talking about?”
A grating sound echoed up from below. One of the footmen had pulled back the bolt. Then the door creaked open, and footsteps thudded hard on tile.
“I’ve come to see my sister. Is she still here?” The fierce, commanding shout had come from Jack.
“Yes, my lord.”
Sinjin was listening, distracted, and Lucy took advantage to slide out of his grip. But as she took a step toward the stairs, his arm snaked around her waist. Gripping her tight, he hauled her against his body. Her back slammed against his rock-hard, muscular chest. “Don’t go to him. He is going to betray you.”
She tried to push against his arm, but she would have had more luck toppling the granite wall that surrounded the house. His arm didn’t move. “He has already betrayed me,” she snapped in a whisper. “He built a mountain of debt, then ran off to live in a brothel. I’m accustomed to his betrayals. There is nothing he can do to surprise me.”
“There is, love. Believe me. He told his friend that he had come to bring you to someone—someone who promised your brother not to destroy you. What would he be willing to do to escape debt or to get money to pay his way out of it? Would he be willing to give you up to a dragon slayer? Or to something worse?”
“I—” She wanted to shout that Jack wouldn’t do such a thing. But he’d been willing to marry Helena to an old lecherous pig. He’d deserted them rather than face his debts and problems like a gentleman. There was the dragon-slayer coin.
“Come with me, Lucy. I have to take James away now since I don’t know what your brother would do to him. If you are with me, I can protect you.”
She had hesitated too long—her brother’s footsteps were racing over the floor. He would be coming to the stairs. She slumped back against the hard wall of Sinjin’s body. In her heart, she wanted to keep him with her—she needed him for his strength, needed him as she had not allowed herself to need anyone since her fiancé’s attack. But she had to be strong: a five-year-old boy depended on them both. “Take James and get him safely away, Sinjin. I can stall my brother, so you and James can escape.”
Sinjin knew what he should do—he should run now and get James. James depended on him, and he had the chance now to grab the boy and escape. But even as logic told him to protect the child, he couldn’t make his feet move.
Hell.
James was a defenseless boy. Sinjin had promised Emma he would not let anything happen to the lad. He had a clear choice: help Lucy and risk getting James killed or lose the boy forever to the dragons, leaving Lucy to her fate.
He was a dragon slayer. The choice should be obvious, but he was not going to leave Lucy’s side. The fact that he had been personally responsible for the deaths of more dragons than he wanted to count? It should tell him to go, to accept what he couldn’t change. At this moment, holding Lucy by the wrists and pinning her lithe, delicate body against him, those memories weighed heavily on his conscience.
Still, he couldn’t let her go. He knew he was going to protect her.
Though in a few moments Lucy was going to find out what he was.
“Lucy!” her brother bellowed. “Where in blazes are you? Upstairs? Come down here at once!”
Sinjin looked down at her. Held tight to his body, Lucy stiffened. “I cannot believe it,” she muttered, and even Sinjin winced at the fire in her tones, fire directed at her wastrel dragon of a brother. “He vanished off the face of the earth and he is commanding me to show myself at once?”
Sinjin remembered how Lucy’s eyes had flashed fire at him on the night she had come to offer her body for her brother’s debts. She had been trying to play the demure maiden, but she couldn’t. Pride and anger had betrayed her. She had faced him with her stubborn chin held high, and her fierce, angry eyes and strident voice had all but singed him.
She would be very, very angry when she learned he was a dragon slayer.
He could try taking her with him by force, but he realized he couldn’t do it. “Shall we go down and meet your brother?” he asked.
She frowned. “No, he can get himself up here and find me.”
“If he had any sense, he would run for his life now,” Sinjin murmured.
“Indeed,” she said.
Footsteps rushed across the tiled foyer and her brother shouted up the stairs, “Hell and the devil, Lucy! I’ve had to ride like the blazes across the godforsaken moors to get to you. I’m soaking wet, freezing cold, and exhausted. What were you thinking to come haring off here?”
Sinjin had relaxed his grip on Lucy’s arms. Too late, Sinjin realized his mistake. She wrenched free and darted down the stairs, with one hand crushing her nightgown and robe to hold up the hems. She stopped three steps down, and her brother was at the foot of the steps. “You tell me why it was necessary for me to come, Jack,” she cried. “Why is a boy being held in our house against his will? Where in heaven’s name did you run away? Did you really think I would let Helena marry that overweight, overbearing, slobbering ancient roué to pay your debts?”
Lucy stomped down the steps until she was only two from the bottom. Sinjin could not see her face, but he could imagine the fire was raging in her indigo eyes. Certainly the sight of her anger had stunned her brother. The Earl of Wrenshire stopped at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at his sister with his mouth gaping.
The young, dark-haired earl crossed his arms over his chest. “I am the head of the household, Lucy. Decisions made by the clan are my concern, not yours. You had no need to come here about this dragon-boy. He is fine where he is. And I did not run away. You are neither my mother nor my wife—I do not need to explain my every action to you. I spent a few days with friends—”
“You were living in a brothel. Accumulating even more debt, I believe, considering the scandalous things you were purchasing—”
“How in—Good heavens, Lucy, you went to that brothel? You had no business going to a such a place. If you were seen, it will be a scandal.”
“Do. Not. Make. This. My. Fault.” Lucy enunciated each word clearly, coldly, distinctly.
Yet her brother was proving to be a complete dolt. He planted his foot on the first step and scowled at her. “Lucy, you are to come home with me immediately. It is not safe for you here—”
“Are you planning to take me home, Jack? Or do you have something else in mind?”
“What are you talking about, Luce?”
“Have you found some man to give me to, just as you were going to let Helena marry the Odious Earl? Jack—”
Suddenly, her shoulders jerked. Her voice broke on her brother’s name, and she took in a sobbing breath. “You saved me from Allan Ferrars! How could you hand Helena to a man who is just as bad? How could you, just to save your own skin?”
“Enough, Lucy. You are coming with me now.”
“No.”
Another set of footsteps came quietly—it had to be Wrenshire’s companion, believing he was moving with stealth. Sinjin listened carefully. Then he heard a sound he knew very well—it was the soft resistant “cry” of a string being stretched.
Hades. He jumped out of the gloom and tore down the steps. But the other man leapt out, leveled a loaded crossbow along his sight line. Sinjin halted on the stairs, frozen. If the crossbow was pointing at him, he would have attacked.
The blackguard was pointing it at Lucy.
In the moment Sinjin hesitated, the earl jumped up a few steps and grasped Lucy’s arm.
“No, Sinjin,” Lucy gasped. “Please go.”
“Sinjin,” Wrenshire repeated. He tightened his grip on his sister’s wrist. Sinjin took a step forward, but the bastard with the crossbow grinned and Lucy cried, “Please don’t move, Sinjin.”
“You know him, Lucy? What in hell is going on?”
“Of course I know him,” she shouted at her brother. “He holds your debts. Your selfish behavior, your awful plans for Helena forced me to go to him. I was going to beg him to forgive your debts—”
Wrenshire let go of her wrist, but he grasped her by her shoulder and pulled her down the steps. He barked a command at the frightened-looking footmen who stood at the door. The earl roared at them to leave, to make themselves scarce. Lucy had no choice but to follow her brother down the steps, stumbling as he roughly hauled her with him. Sinjin couldn’t attack—not with a crossbow aimed at her.
“What did you do, Lucy?” Wrenshire barked. “Hell, what did you do? Do you know what he is?” He shook her, and Sinjin tried to calculate odds. If he moved, would the bastard with the crossbow turn the weapon on him and away from Lucy? Or was the bloody wretch willing to shoot Lucy?
No, there was no way the man would shoot Lucy, and if he didn’t act, she would be in danger. Sinjin was ready to spring when the earl snarled, “The Duke of Greystone is a dragon slayer, Lucy. He’s planning to kill you.”
“What are you saying? It cannot be true. He is—he is a vampire.”
“Yes, and a dragon slayer,” Wrenshire repeated. “He was given immortality so he could hunt our kind for eternity. Did you ask him how many of our kind he has butchered? It is hundreds. That is why our father took his nephew—if Father had not kept the lad here, the duke would have killed us all. It was the only way to protect us.”
Lucy whispered, “I don’t believe it.”
“Believe what you like. I, however, plan to take care of it.” Wrenshire jerked up his head and gave the cold command to his friend. “Shoot him.”
14
Rescue
“No!”
Lucy’s shout of fear and fury came too late. The earl’s companion had pulled the trigger even before Wrenshire finished giving his command. Sinjin anticipated it and he dove forward and to the side, somersaulting in the air. Something whistled past him and a cold sensation lanced his left arm.
Sinjin landed hard on his feet, then lost his balance and dropped to one knee as the cold vanished and his arm screamed with white-hot pain.
The shooter had anticipated he would try to jump out of the way and guessed he would go to the right, hoping to go wide of the shot. The damned blackguard had been right and the arrow had almost found its mark. As he lurched back to his feet, Sinjin touched the slice that crested the muscle just below his shoulder. His coat was sliced and blood oozed onto his fingers.
He released his arm, knowing the cut would begin to heal. Pain stung but he was used to pain. He rushed for Wrenshire’s henchman before the man could reload. Recognizing the weapon was now useless, the man slid a stake out of his sleeve, letting it drop into his hand.
Even facing a man holding a stake, Sinjin had to see what was happening to Lucy. Her face was white, her hand clamped to her mouth in horror. She grasped her brother’s coat and shook him desperately. “Stop this, Jack!” she pleaded.
“Lucy, stay out of the way. You are going to get hurt.” Her brother pushed her back, and she fell over her skirts, landing on her bottom on the tile floor. “Dear God, Lucy, you must go. Go to the carriage. Now!”
Sinjin lurched toward her, wanting to ensure she was not hurt, and in his peripheral vision, he saw the stake slash toward his chest. He jumped into the air, vaulting over backward, landing on his feet. He swung his leg out instantly, catching his attacker in the chest and sending the man sprawling back.
But his assailant leapt back to his feet quickly, springing up with his back arched.
Strong. Damned strong and agile. Obviously not a mortal.
The thunder of footsteps warned that servants were coming. Wrenshire shouted at the first footmen to arrive, “This man is an enemy of our family, but you will stay back and leave this battle to us. I want you all to go downstairs to the kitchens. Wait there until I command you to return.”
From the floor, where she had landed on her hip, with her skirts spilling around her, Lucy cried, “No, what he is saying is not true—”
“The poor girl is delusional,” Wrenshire yelled. “I am the master here. You will listen to me.”
The servants hesitated, but then their master howled, “Go. I will protect my sister. He is the one who pushed her down. If you do not obey I will have your heads.”
Quivering, the few servants retreated, including maids and a frightened-looking Mrs. Billings, who clutched a brown woolen dressing gown around her.
As soon as the servants left, Wrenshire grabbed Lucy by the arm, and dragged her to her feet. “Finish him,” he barked to his accomplice.
As Sinjin and his attacker circled each other, Sinjin flicked his gaze back and forth between Lucy and the stake. She slapped her brother in the chest, digging her heels against the smooth tiles, which didn’t do anything to stop Wrenshire. “You must stop this, Jack. You cannot kill him! He has done nothing to hurt me. I don’t believe he is a dragon slayer.”
“Lucy, you have to listen to me. It’s the truth. Don’t make this any harder for me than it is. You will do as you are told. If you want to save this blasted family of ours, you will go out to the carriage now. You will get inside, and you will wait for me to finish this villain.”
“I am not going anyw
here.”
“This is madness,” Wrenshire snapped. “How can you be championing a dragon slayer?”
“If he is a dragon slayer, why did he not kill me? He’s had ample chances to do it.”
Wrenshire’s eyes bulged and a vein throbbed in his temple. “For Christ’s sake, why don’t you believe me? Of course, he kept you alive—he needed you to bring him to his nephew.”
“Once I did, why didn’t he kill me then?”
The fiend with the stake took another swing, slashing toward his heart. Sinjin landed a punch on his jaw, one that would have snapped the neck of a mortal. The man’s head lurched back, but then he regained his balance and stabbed again. He missed, then stooped to his dirty boots and hauled a dagger out of a sheath in the leather. “Bloody vampire.”
Sinjin knew what he planned: to gut him with the knife, which would bring even a vampire to his knees, then drive in the stake while he was too weak to move.
“I don’t know, Lucy, why he waited to kill you, but I guarantee it was what he planned to do—” Then her brother roared with anger. Still gripping her wrist, he cupped Lucy’s chin, and forced her head to tip. Wrenshire touched her wound. “He bit you?”
She struggled to shove his hand away. “I let him do it. This way, he would not drink from anyone mortal. He stopped when he was drinking from me. He willingly stopped. If he is a dragon slayer, surely he would have killed me then.”
Her brother pushed her toward the door. “What did he do to you, Lucy? Did he touch you? Force himself on you?”
“No, you made all that unnecessary.” Her voice was a choked whisper, but Sinjin could hear everything, even the labored thud of her heart. “I learned you owed thirty thousand pounds to him. What do you think I had to do to save us?”
“God ... Lucy ... no.” Wrenshire’s face went chalk-white. “Not with him ... how could you?”
“I was trying to save this family.” She threw the words at her brother.
