by Maggie Mundy
And she wanted it.
“The fashion show for our new season is in three weeks’ time.” He stroked her cheek. “I want you to be there. We’ll have one of your pictures as the backdrop. What I’m trying to say is, I want to keep seeing you. I know this is sudden but if you say no, I’ll leave you in peace.”
He was giving her a way out. If she took it, maybe she’d save herself later heartache. He waited patiently for an answer. This gorgeous man offered her the world and great sex, yet she hesitated.
“I’d love to. I feel a bit uncomfortable with the fact some people may get the idea I have this job because I’m sleeping with you.”
“Some people are going to say it no matter what, so stuff them. If that’s their attitude, they won’t be around me for long anyway.” Vincent collected the tray and set it on the floor. He beckoned her with one finger. “Now get back here so I can make sure you are sweeter than honey before I go.”
~ ~ ~
An hour later, Adele watched Vincent drive off in his Porsche with its expensively tinted windows. She shook her head at the thought of her old van. He would need to get his clothes dry cleaned if he ever sat in it. Adele trudged back upstairs to her flat as her phone beeped. She checked the display. Carla.
“Okay, so . . . I was out front of your place and about to cross the road when I saw you had someone for a sleepover. Buzz me up.”
Well, I’ve been caught good and proper.
Carla walked in and dashed straight to the bedroom. When she came back out, she wore a smile. “Glad to see those sheets of yours are messed up. I hope you’re going to remind him to have Tristan give me a call.”
“He’s amazing, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
“You’re getting laid, and that’s good. Don’t we keep people safe? We deserve some fun.”
“Your’re right.” It didn’t pay to think things over too deeply right now. “The fashion show for the line we did is in three weeks’ time, and we’re invited. Tristan has booked rooms at the Ritz for all of us.”
Carla came over and hugged her. “I love you so much at this moment. The only thing to make it better would be a pair of shoes hand-delivered by Tristan. He does weird things to me when he sucks my toes. Then he nips me everywhere . . . God, it’s good.”
Adele slapped her hands over her ears. “I don’t want to know what you did, but we’re going to need some new clothes. The top end of London fashion is going to be there.”
“Fashion I love. Now tell me you didn’t wear that hideous dressing gown in front of Vincent.”
Adele could feel herself going red, but was saved from explaining as her phone went off. “It’s Jake.”
She had a feeling it wouldn’t be good news. Were all good things—like sexy men—coming to an end?
“Hi, what’s up?”
“The Council called a meeting, and all hunters are to attend. We’re getting pressure from overseas to deal with the problem here, or they’ll come in and fix it. Is Carla with you?”
“Yes. When is the meeting?”
“I’ll get back to you on the date. We’ll be increasing surveys around the city from tonight. I’ll let you both know the roster.” Jake hung up.
All the excitement of before deserted her. Adele knew right then; she couldn’t fall in love with Vincent. If she had to choose between her life as a hunter and him, then her heart would break. If he called, she’d tell him she couldn’t continue their relationship.
Her heart ached already.
Fuck, this was going to hurt.
Chapter 9
Vincent was walking a tightrope with his life, yet he couldn’t stop, even if it meant he would fall to his death.
A death where the person he loved would be his killer.
Speeding past cars, he drove up the motorway to London, not caring if the police stopped him. Though he needed to keep driving, he wanted to turn back.
His heart had remained in Bath with Adele.
He’d gone to her flat to support her in her grief, yet once he stepped through the door, desire for her body overwhelmed him. Hundreds of years of constraint and control disappeared when he was around her.
Vincent had fed before he went there, but the beautiful scent of her blood aroused him. When he’d kissed her, he fought to stop his fangs from extending. She would have hated him if she knew the truth.
He turned off before the traffic grew too busy around London. The estate was another twenty-minute drive, but it might as well have been on the other side of the planet. The next time he saw her, he would tell her the truth. If she didn’t want him, he would ask Tristan to end his life.
Shit, when did I get so melodramatic? Then again, this moment had been hundreds of years in the making.
He pulled into the garage at the Manor House and stomped upstairs. He needed a drink, though copious amounts of alcohol would be necessary for it to have any effect. In the library, he poured a large scotch and gulped it down, letting the amber liquid burn his throat. Blood always tasted warm and satisfying in comparison.
The door opened, and Tristan strolled in. “From the sense of desperation about you, I assume you’ve visited Adele,” he commented. “I told you it would be a mistake.”
Vincent stared into his drink. He wouldn’t find his answers there. “I’m going to tell her. If she kills me, then so be it. I want to help you and the others of our group, but it’s not enough.” Vincent braced himself for an argument.
Tristan poured a drink and sat. “You’re right. Humans think we are a myth. Our own kind thinks we’re freaks, and the hunters want us dead. You’re in love with one of those hunters.” He shrugged. “So, you’re really going to tell her?”
Vincent downed his scotch and refilled his glass. “I had the most amazing sex and yet I fought the whole time not to feed on her. This is stupid. I want to know what the hell we’re fighting for if we live alone forever.”
“I totally agree.”
That wasn’t the response Vincent expected.
“Vincent, I’m tired of this fight as well. Help me get Rushton, then tell your woman what you are. I’ll be at your side, even if it’s the death of us both.”
As he clinked glasses with his friend, a sense of relief calmed him. The two of them had survived in half a world for too long. Even vampires like them deserved a decent life.
Tristan’s cellphone went off, and he hastened to answer. A few seconds later, his lips quirked as he disconnected. “That was Hugo. His men think they’ve discovered the remains of Henry. It seems Rushton got a bit too close to Hugo’s home.”
“Do you believe it was him? Rushton’s never made himself vulnerable before.”
“Maybe he’s tired like the rest of us and slipped up. Hugo will be happy, it should keep the oversea vamps quiet.”
“Unless they think we should leave too, now Rushton is gone,” Vincent mused.
“If that’s the case, then maybe we should ask Carla and Adele to help us.”
“Hell will freeze over before that happens. I’ve invited her to the fashion show, and afterward I’d like to bring her here to tell her. I don’t enjoy the idea of her beheading me in the center of Knightsbridge. Of course, I’ll not mention any of the others in our group.”
Tristan held out his hand to shake. “I’ll support you now as always, my friend. We will finish this journey together.”
Chapter 10
Henry sucked on the young man’s neck, and then gave back enough blood for the conversion. In the past, he would have taken a little blood and added this man to the group. Now his body betrayed him with its weakness.
He dropped his victim onto the floor, unmoving, then sank down beside him.
A few months ago, his men would have brought new supplicants to him.
Tonight, he had needed to wander the streets of Bristol and find a homeless youth himself. He was an Elect. This was beneath him.
The young man was handsome but scrawny. Not that looks made a difference. Henry had no interest in anyone sexually anymore. This one had been on the drug ‘ice.’ Come morning, the youth would rise a new vampire with a clear head, and a liking for blood.
Henry stared at his arms, youthful and clear for just a moment, before the skin on his hand grew spotty and age-wrinkled. His chest tightened with despair. Sometimes he wished for death and the end of this farce. If he were to die, it would be a slow and painful one, and he would take Hugo with him.
So many years had passed, but Henry’s hatred for the full blood vampire still held strong. Hugo had denied him love with his darling Jane. Before he died, Henry vowed Hugo would meet his end as well. He just needed to get rid of Tristan, Vincent, and their cohort. Damn, but he regretted the day he’d changed them.
He looked about the room of the old terraced house. Most of his neighbors were drug addicts or prostitutes, so no one would care what he did. The people around here minded their own business and expected him to do the same. His mind drifted back to long ago, when life had held endless opportunities . . .
~ ~ ~
Henry’s parents had been full blood vampires and Hugo had been his friend when the two of them were growing up. They went to university together to study, and it was there Henry discovered he had different leanings when it came to pleasure. He liked to drink, fornicate, and kill. After all, vampires were a superior race, and humans their playthings.
It didn’t take long before he had a following of young men. He drank his fill from the women his disciples found on the streets, then dumped their bodies. The young men, bored and rich, liked to partake in his ceremonies where strong drink and orgies abounded.
Until everything changed.
It was in the 1600s, and he had been visiting his parents. They insisted he return home for a wedding; Hugo’s, no less. Henry found the idea of shackling himself to one woman pointless; not when he could taste so many. Humans were a smorgasbord for him to gorge upon.
The ceremony had bored him, and he wanted to get back to his friends. Then a servant girl had brought him wine. She didn’t appear all that special until he inhaled her aroma and knew he’d have to taste her . . .
He’d accepted the goblet she’d held out to him. “Tell me, what is your name, pretty thing?”
The young woman had appeared frightened, biting her bottom lip. “Jane, sir.” She eyed the butler, who silently surveyed the room.
“I think Hugo is a lucky gentleman to have such a lovely servant waiting on him.”
“Thank you, sir.” Jane blushed and turned away to serve others.
Henry had to have her. The smell of her was intoxicating. As the evening wore on, he watched her. When most of the guests went to bed, he waited at the back of the house to see if he could catch her alone. He just wanted a small taste.
Henry stayed in the shadows by the kitchen door, and was rewarded when she made her way across the courtyard to the chicken coop. She threw the scraps into the enclosure and when she turned back, he was before her. Up close, she smelled even better.
Jane squeaked at the sight of him. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t see you there. Can I help you? If you’re looking for the stables they’re around the side of the building.”
Henry placed his hands on her arms. She was trembling and her fear stimulated him even more.
“I was looking for you.” His fangs lengthened, and he sent pleasurable thoughts into her mind so she would be acquiescent. He sniffed her neck as she bent her head to the side. It was easy to slice through the skin and let her blood flow into him.
Before Henry could get his fill, someone yanked him away. He turned to find Hugo, looming, ready to fight with fangs bared before him.
“Shouldn’t you be in your bed with your new wife now?” Henry hissed.
“Leave and do not return to my home. Jane is under my protection, and I’ll not have you treat her like you do your whores and vagabonds.”
Henry was about to charge Hugo and kill him for taking away Jane, but then four other vampires arrived, Henry’s father amongst them.
“You’ll leave now, my son. Unless you change your ways, you’ll be outcast, and we’ll not protect you from the hunters.”
Henry laughed. “You would turn on your own son?”
“Unless you change your ways, I have no son.”
Henry stomped to the stables and found his horse.
A few weeks later he heard Jane had been whisked away to somewhere safe, but he had no intention of letting her go. He could still remember the taste of her blood when he closed his eyes. He would not be denied nor stopped by the likes of his father—or Hugo.
Five months later he found her. Hugo had sent her away to live on a nearby farm. Henry waited until the farmer and his wife went into town, then watched as Jane stepped outside to sit in the sun. Hiding in the shade of the barn, he sent out thoughts for her to come to him.
Her mind seemed jumbled, but she stood and walked toward him. This life away from the grand house was not serving her well. Her face had grown gaunt and her body thin. He would make her well again and turn her to be like him. It was forbidden to convert someone, but he’d never cared for rules.
His fangs grew, and he bit into her neck, expecting the same beautiful taste he experienced before. Her blood was different. It still tempted him, but there was something strange about it.
Once her blood mixed with his, Henry injected it back into her body. He would heal her and feed her every day. He would find people for her to satisfy her appetite on. He stopped feeding, licking the wounds to staunch the blood flow. As his beloved Jane went limp in his arms, he laid her down on the straw-covered floor of the barn.
But she was dead. How could this be? His blood should’ve saved her.
The clopping of horse hooves echoed nearby. Henry needed to escape before the farmer returned. Hugo must never know of what had transpired here.
Henry rode through the night back to Oxford and closeted himself in his room. Jane’s blood was already affecting him in some strange way. His thoughts were muddled, anger and frustration building in him. This was Hugo’s fault. He’d sent Jane to the country to be infected by disease, and now it was altering him.
It might take him centuries to work out how, but he would find a way to kill Hugo if it was the last thing he did . . .
~ ~ ~
Now, hundreds of years later, Henry was nowhere nearer to achieving his goal.
Breathing in, all Henry could smell was the unclean youth at his feet. Jane’s scent had long dissipated. He closed his eyes and thought back to his need for revenge.
He planned to build an army, but his tainted blood affected a few differently. Some were taken under Hugo’s wing even if the group was never allowed to mate with another of true blood. He’d been close recently, and then the raid at the docks set him back. Most of his men went mad within six months and died, and it was taking a toll. There were rumors one of Vincent’s group had begun research, and was close to a cure. Henry would watch and keep studying.
He would find a way to end this torment and kill Hugo.
Chapter 11
Vincent kept busy with business now that Henry Rushton appeared to be gone. He would text Adele occasionally, sharing how much he wanted to be near her, yet he stayed away. If he weakened and found himself close to her, he wouldn’t be able to resist revealing not only his love, but also his vampiric condition—
Which would result in ‘stake night’ for him.
The week before the fashion show, everyone at the store appeared tense. He’d loved this life in the past, but now it meant nothing. Living forever wasn’t all it was crack
ed up to be, unless one had something or someone to live for. Vincent struggled to distract himself by looking through the costings for the show. Having lived so long made him cynical about who made profits these days. Neither he nor Tristan needed the money anyway.
The board meeting would begin in ten minutes, and he felt a strong compulsion to walk out the door and away from this. He wanted to be in Bath with Adele.
Tristan must have guessed it as he strode into the office and tapped his watch. “She’ll be here next week for the show and afterward, I’ll support you in anything. A lot of people’s jobs rely on this, even if it is just clothing. We live long, and this has provided an outlet for us, but for many of them, it’s their livelihood. Remember all the charities we support, too.”
“You don’t have to worry. I’ll do the show and then fade into the background,” Vincent assured wearily.
“That’s not what I meant. I want happiness for you and Adele. God knows it might mean there could be a chance for me. You have no idea what Carla is like, and how hard I’m finding it to stay away as well.”
“She’s Adele’s friend, so I can guess. They’re both strong, independent women, in and out of the bedroom.”
Just then Vincent’s cellphone rang, the tone he had assigned to Adele’s number. His throat went dry at the thought of what he would say to her.
“Hi.” That was about all he could manage. Hundreds of years old, and tongue-tied around her.
“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something. I know how busy you must be with he show coming up.”
“No. I’m always happy to hear from you.”
