A sound at the door warned of her approaching maid. With a slight gesture of her hand and nod, I knew what would be coming . . . tea. Everything about this room—this woman—screamed elegance and sophistication. Zane held similar tastes, things he’d managed to bring from his old life to the one we would later establish in America. Something inside me relaxed being surrounded by the familiar.
“I hope you don’t mind but I thought we’d get straight to the heart of the matter of why you are here.” Again, she stared at me with such intensity I was sure she could read my thoughts. It was everything I could do not to squirm in my seat. “I’ve received Vivien’s letter of introduction explaining your predicament.”
“Yes,” I nodded. Damn, I was beginning to sweat even though I had no reason to worry. “May I speak frankly?” It was interesting how tongue-tied I’d become. It wasn’t like I didn’t know where this was heading.
“By all means,” she kindly replied. Her smile helped soothe my nerves. “You’re aware of who I am and why your friend believes I hold the answers you seek.”
We were interrupted briefly as her serving maid entered with the cups and saucers for our tea. It always amazed me that someone could balance so much on such a small silver tray. Just the thought made me think of Darcy and how clumsy she could sometimes be. Zane almost had an aneurysm once when she’d nearly dropped a favorite piece of English china, threatening to shatter it into a million pieces. She’d blamed the rug, declaring it had tried to trip her. I knew it for the lie it was; she’d become distracted when Mason entered the room. It had been hilarious.
Slowly, I began the story I’d rehearsed all the way there—about my blood oath, Julian, and every failed attempt we’d endured. Lady Hannah patiently listened, breaking eye contact only to accept the offered cup of tea and daintily take a sip. Once finished, I sat, just as I had before, and waited for her response.
“Your tea, sir,” the maid spoke, appearing by my side. Thanking her, I took the smallest of mouthfuls and held the cup and saucer carefully in my hands. It didn’t really matter how I drank it . . . Lady Hannah would be more interested in what remained once I drank the liquid.
“That’s quite a tale for one so young. My condolences over the loss of your dear sister. It’s always such a tragedy when such scoundrels pray on the hearts of the truly innocent. Have you avenged her and your family name?” Before I could answer, she seemed to answer her own question. “Given time, yes . . . I believe you will.”
“So are you able to help?” I inserted, choosing not to discuss my grief over Elynor or the rage that flared every time I heard Julian’s name. I hoped the bastard was roasting in the torturous fires of Hell for the devastation wreaked upon both my sister and niece. Just the thought of him made me clench my jaw and grit my teeth.
“Straight to the point. I like you, Mr. Lockhart. May I call you Devlin? Something tells me we will become great friends, so let’s dispense with formalities. Have you finished?”
I took one last draining mouthful and handed her my cup.
She rested her own in her lap and took a few moments to gather her thoughts as she peered into the piece of china. I didn’t rush her and instead gazed at the portrait hanging over the fireplace. It was an odd painting of a rather crazed looking man atop a horse. She would later laugh when I told her how eerie it made me feel—like the gentleman was staring at me.
When she finally spoke, electricity seemed to crackle over my body with a strong sense of foreboding. “London isn’t your final destination. You’ve a long journey ahead of you . . . one fraught with danger and heartache. There are people you must meet . . . those who can help you become . . .” She paused again before abruptly leveling me a look that chilled me to my bones.
This was new.
She hadn’t stopped the first time.
My stomach clenched with dread.
“But this isn’t news to you, is it, Mr. Lockhart?” We were back to being formal.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” I answered, playing dumb. One of the best tricks I’d learned being an Enforcer was that if you pretended not to know something, people often revealed more than they intended.
Her eyebrows rose as a skeptical smirk curled her lips. “Come now, must we really begin our friendship with dishonesty?” An aura of annoyance rolled off her. “Why are you really here?”
Sweat trickled down the center of my back. The Fates had given me the strictest of orders not to tell anyone what I was doing and to relive each moment without changing it. My gut told me she wasn’t talking about my query anymore. She knew.
Glancing around, I hoped to catch a glimpse of Klothos . . . or even one of her horrible sisters . . . someone to let me know it was okay to be truthful. The last time I’d considered speeding up the process, I’d been subjected to horrific images of an insane Darcy.
I could still hear her shrieks and screams in my dreams.
“Lady Hannah,” I stammered.
“The leaves don’t lie, and neither does my gift. For whatever reason, you are not in your own time. So again, I ask you . . . why are you here?
The amber in my pocket became warm. I’d carried it since it’s appearance at Elynor’s funeral and the small object had become a source of comfort.
Swallowing hard, I bit the bullet. “You’re right. I’m from a different time, but I assure you . . . we have met before . . . had this conversation . . . and you helped me find a way to honor my sacred oath.” My response came out broken as I struggled to find the right words. This was a complete surprise. I didn’t like surprises.
“Please explain.” Intrigue and curiosity now replaced the annoyance from before.
Klothos, I inwardly called, praying the young Fate would appear.
Unfortunately, we remained alone in the room.
“Trust me, I wish I could disclose it all. Heaven knows, I need someone to talk about this with but I can’t. I’m under orders to complete this task alone and I don’t want incur the wrath of those to whom I’m beholden.”
Lady Hannah’s eyes narrowed as she weighed my response. “I sense something otherworldly about you . . . greater forces at play. Can you answer me if it pertains to destiny?”
I let out a small sigh of relief. She truly was shrewd. “Yes. I answer to the Fates. I made a bargain with them and this is the price I must pay.”
“To come to me?” Confusion settled across her features.
“You are but one person. As you said . . . my journey is a long one.”
I could tell it rankled that I wouldn’t—couldn’t—fully confess all my secrets to her. Something whispered that she wasn’t used to being denied, but even she knew not to mess with the Fates.
“I can’t pretend this pleases me. I’m not one who likes to be kept in the dark, especially when you’ve come asking for my assistance.”
I captured her gaze and gave her the most earnest smile possible. “I promise you, Lady Hannah, although this isn’t ideal, I meant no offense. I am reliving this conversation and, in the past, you were a great help. Without you, I wouldn’t become the man I am. You set me on my path.”
Her lips pursed. “So you know what the leaves revealed.” It was more a statement than a question.
I nodded. “Yes.”
She sat back in her chair, silent.
The leaves revealed that I was different, but they also showed the form of a wolf. It wasn’t a representation of my future—of Darcy, Mason, or my friendship with the Mystic Wolves Pack.
No, there was a certain acquaintance of Lady Hannah’s that sprang to her mind the second she’d recognized the shape at the bottom of my cup.
Gesturing to the maid who stood at attention by the door, silently awaiting her mistress’s command, Lady Hannah’s voice held all the authority she could muster. “Please, make an appointment for Mr. Lockhart to visit my tailor. Also reply to this morning’s letter and inform the Blackburns I’ll be attending the ball with a guest.”
And there i
t was—the event where I was destined to meet Sullivan Kilgrave, the Alpha of the London Pack.
My heart thundered in my chest and memories bombarded me.
As the click of the door signaled the maid’s leaving to fulfill her lady’s requests, Lady Hannah smiled knowingly. “I’d ask if you are prepared to stay, but I know you are. This should be interesting.”
If only she realized how true those words were.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Strange yet familiar sounds roused me from slumber and, for a few brief moments, I struggled to remember where I was. As an Enforcer—especially during the organization’s early formative years when Zane and I struggled to build it from the ground up—traveling often was an occupational hazard. Unbeknownst to many, the protective institution had first begun as a league of assassins, trained and assigned at the whim of a bloodthirsty king—my maker. It wasn’t until Zane and I destroyed him that we reassembled the highly militarized group of vampires and gave them a new purpose and mission.
I’d traveled the world—recruiting, while executing my orders. So it came as no surprise when I became aware my disorientation was confusing me.
It hadn’t taken long at all to pick out the familiar sounds of London—Cavendish Square to be precise—the home of the infamous Lady Hannah. I was here at the mercy of the Fates . . . or rather their amusement and entertainment.
Time was ticking by so slowly. While I wasn’t anxious to relive this dark period of my life, I was eager to complete this task so I could return home. I missed all the creature comforts I’d grown accustomed to, but most of all, I missed the people I’d claimed, fought for, and loved.
Darcy.
Mason.
Heaven help me, I even missed my infuriating nephew Joseph, or Vlad, as he preferred to be called.
They’d enriched my life so much—given it renewed purpose and vigor. After living over a century and seeing so much change and advancement, they were the singular constant . . .my family.
In the few days I’d been living under the same roof with London’s seer, I’d enjoyed exploring the town I’d fallen in love with all those years ago. Streets filled with the bustle of citizens in fashionable clothes, horse drawn carriages, and the excitement over trains. Everything was loud, messy, and vibrant. Businesses were booming and the status quo between the rich, working classes, and poor somehow maintained balance.
I’d seen it all—familiar smells and sounds reminding me where I’d come from and the future everyone could look forward to. It was difficult to not blurt out my amazement and start talking about things that would be invented decades later.
Lady Hannah had been a gracious host. I could see her bite her tongue—her eyes sparkling with curiosity as we dined, her questions sometimes coming in rapid fire. While she saw many things with her gift, she explained she couldn’t always understand her visions. The lady was in rare form. My presence, someone she knew had come from the future, kept me on my toes. It warmed my heart to see her eyes widen and her lips for a surprised ‘O’ before erupting into peals of laughter when I described things I’d once taken for granted, such as the ability to communicate easily with others, no matter where they were.
This was particularly intriguing to her, considering how long it often took for letters to be delivered. Messages were constantly coming to and being sent from her beautiful Victorian home—her manservant delivering correspondence between friends and business associates across London. She couldn’t believe the time saved by simply pressing a few buttons and speaking into a device.
Her enthusiasm made me think about Darcy and how she’d seemed like a sponge, soaking up every piece of information and tidbit during our conversations. Her amusement had been infectious and the past two nights we’d remained up in her drawing room, talking into the wee hours of the morning.
Of course, she’d cursed me as only a true lady could whenever I evaded certain questions but, for the most part, her wit gave me a much-appreciated respite from the approaching events.
It was nice to discuss a wide variety of topics.
Opening my eyes, I smiled softly as I stretched. I could hear the servants moving around the house and, as if by magic, there was a soft knock at the door.
“Come in,” I called, finally sitting up and placing my feet on the floor. One of the housemaids entered with a tray laden down with plates. My stomach growled in hunger as the breakfast’s delicious aroma hit me.
“Her Ladyship asked that I remind you Ms. Valeria will be here this afternoon for your fitting.” Young Marion kept her eyes diverted as if to afford me some privacy. She quickly placed the tray on the nearby table before standing to the side, waiting for my response. “Will there be anything else I can get for you?”
My stomach made another loud noise that caused a red blush to creep across her fair cheeks. I laughed softly at the sight before thanking her. “The food is fine. Thank you.” Offering her smile, I brushed my messed hair back from my face. “Let Lady Hannah know I’ll be ready. The appointment is in the drawing room?”
I vaguely remembered the instructions from earlier, so when the maid nodded I quickly stood.
“Call should you need anything,” Marion squeaked, her gaze brushing quickly over my state of undress. For a second I worried she’d topple over as she curtsied abruptly before rushing out the door, dismissing herself.
My chuckling filled the room. Maybe next time I’d wink at her, just to see her reaction.
Lifting the lids covering the warm plates, I began eating. Flavors exploded across my taste buds and it was the strangest thing because I’d basically survived on blood for so long, food in all its varieties seemed like a novelty. I didn’t give it much thought as I polished off the eggs, sausage, and toast, before downing the juice in one large gulp. Finally satisfied, I set about dressing for the day, counting down the minutes until I met with Ms. Valeria.
Now, she was a character who would brighten my day. Out of all the many memories I’d collected, she was one of my favorites. I once described her as one of those unique women whose personality drew you in like a moth to a flame. Her witty banter was irresistible. I hadn’t been surprised when I’d learned she had a long string of suitors vying for her attention. The rich begged for her to attend them. She had a waiting list that seemed never-ending in length. It was a testament to her friendship with Lady Hannah that I had been placed at the head of the line at such short notice.
With nothing else to do until then, I spent the rest of the morning reading and rereading the letter from Verity, memorizing each word and syllable in her expressive missive. She already missed me and each page was filled with how fast Lucinda was growing. The sweet bairn already owned the heart of everyone around her.
What caused my chest to tighten were the other sentiments expressed—so honest and open. Verity had never been afraid to express herself, always confident in how much she loved me. She loathed the distance between us, subtly hinting she could join me in London should I tell her to come. There were two paragraphs dedicated to outlining what an asset she’d be in helping me navigate the bustling city, assuming that this was the first time I’d travelled there alone. She even included a couple of jabs about needing to protect me from the affections of strange women, unable to resist the lure of such a handsome man as myself.
Verity had always thought so highly of me. There was never any doubt that I was loyal to her, my gaze never straying from her own beauty and generous spirit. I loved her with everything I had, and I knew it pleased her when I confessed that, as far as I was concerned, no one existed but her.
London, however, was like a sparkling diamond filled with temptations to distract even the most faithful heart. I was positive that was hidden somewhere under her bravado. She trusted me, but would rather have been here, experiencing it all alongside me.
Unfortunately, her turn wouldn’t come until later.
And even then, it infuriated me when she arrived, I mused silently, a stirring of bitt
erness floating to the surface. After all this time, it still irked me—even after everything I’d done to prevent her involvement—I hadn’t been able to stop it.
What was done was done. There would be no going back to change it. That last thought made me snort because here I was . . . in the perfect position to actually do that—alter my past—and safeguard one of the most important people I’d ever cared for, and I was completely helpless to do so. In order to save Darcy, I had to watch those I loved suffer . . . again.
Verity’s letter fell to the desk’s top and I sat back in the uncomfortable chair, staring into space. This was torture. Plain and simple.
Knowing I had to repeat it all, I did the only thing I could.
I picked up the freshly nibbed quill pen Lady Hannah provided and began pouring out my love onto fresh paper. I might not be able to prevent what was to come, but Verity would at least know how deeply I cared for her.
She would never, ever, doubt that.
Well, until I gave her reason to.
And I would . . . soon.
My God, how would I ever be able to do that again?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“So, you are the mysterious Mr. Lockhart who brings me here today.”
The instant I’d entered the drawing room I felt the seamstress’s hungry gaze practically devour me. With a twirl of her hand, she gestured for me to turn about in a circle while she tapped a finger against her pursed lips.
“Yes, yes,” she murmured, not once taking her eyes from me. There weren’t many times in my long life when I’d ever felt like I was swimming about in a fish bowl on display.
The drawing room had miraculously been transformed into the inside of a tailor store with mountains of various fabrics piled across each surface. A makeshift platform of sorts had been placed in front of the fireplace—the only real space that allowed for any real freedom of movement. With a few authoritative tuts, Ms. Valeria ordered me to step onto it, where I stood still and awaited further instructions.
Blood Oath (#8, the Mystic Wolves) Page 11
