As he rode like the wind, he still feared Angel was already perilously close to the point of no return. Sarina was Alexander’s familiar, a vampire herself. Her blood, if Angel drank enough of it, could seduce the last of Angel’s humanity into the immortal but dark world of living death.
Max had straddled both worlds for more years than he cared to remember. As a vampire, he’d laughed at death, drinking cold blood to survive not because he wanted to live forever but because he needed the strength of the night to defeat his bitter enemy. He’d played the grim reaper himself for so many misbegotten souls he could scarcely remember their faces. And somewhere, in the pitiless march of time, his own long life had become wearisome to him, one gray day stretching into another black night.
Angel had changed all that.
She made him long for the things he’d once taken for granted those many years ago when he was human: a hearth, a home, a hope. Joy and daylight, not pain and mausoleums. Angel was no more suited to eternal night than her mother had been. If she lost her humanity, she lost all that made her unique. She’d be miserable.
No matter the cost to his own soul, he could not bear to see Angel become one of those pallid, insatiable creatures feeding on the weak. The price of eternity for a vampire was measured in the human cost of today, each dawn worse than the one before.
Until ultimately, the oldest vampires became ruthless, evil, without conscience or remorse.
He’d do anything necessary to save Angel from that fate.
Anything.
Angel had scarcely begun to suckle before something enormous, rough with dark hair, leaped from the doorway in a single bound. The creature’s full weight landed between Angel and Sarina, knocking them apart. Angel sprawled to the floor, but Sarina nimbly sidestepped and flew to the door. Angel lay still, supine on the ground, licking the last luscious drops away from the inside of her mouth.
She heard the patter of retreating steps, and then a cold nose stuck itself into Angel’s neck and snuffled. The moist breath brought Angel back from an icy place by warm degrees. Angel opened her eyes and looked up. She drew breath to scream but had presence of mind to clap her hands over her mouth. That would only incite the creature.
Angel glanced around for Sarina and realized her aunt had run. Angel couldn’t really blame her, but still it stung that she’d been left to face this terrible beast alone. Angel scooted away from it, expecting it to lunge at her. But it was still.
As if it appraised her.
The enormous wolf had pale green eyes glowing in the darkness. It had a thick scruff of hair standing up from a muscular neck, a powerful chest and huge paws, larger than Angel’s hands, that ended in sharp, curving claws.
And the teeth. Angel swallowed. The wolf was panting slightly, so Angel saw the canines gleaming in the light. One bite from those massive jaws–
“Have you a peppermint?”
Angel blinked and looked around the room.
It couldn’t be…
That sounded like Shelly Holmes.
The wolf sat back on its haunches, licking its lips. “After raw rabbit I always finish off with a peppermint and my own store is exhausted.”
Astounded, Angel peered up at the wolf that talked. The wolf that talked with Shelly’s voice and used Shelly’s mannerisms, right down to the curious tilt of the head, the direct stare, the wry quirk of the generous mouth.
Angel cleared her throat. “Shelly?”
“Forgive me for startling you, but I should hate to see you become one of these loathsome creatures.”
So weary that she felt beyond shock, Angel rubbed her forehead, deciding that by now she should deem in perfectly normal to chat with werewolves in between drinking blood. “I should have become a practitioner of the dark arts rather than a scientist.” She stood. “Science can certainly not explain the phenomena I’ve witnessed since coming to one of the oldest repositories of knowledge in the known world.”
That generous smile seemed to widen. “Ironic indeed. Still, it has always been the unknown world that is most intriguing. That is why you study blood. That is why you are fascinated by Max. And that is why…” The generous mouth went straight. “You shall shortly have to choose between those worlds.”
Angel turned away. The sweet taste of Sarina’s blood that had lingered now had a tinge as bitter as the truth Shelly had just stated. Already Angel felt the feverish need to feed again.
And again. It was as if she were addicted to poison. A poison that would kill Angel Corbett and leave Angelina Blythe, part time resident of the family mausoleum. Angel hurried toward the door, knowing she couldn’t escape that choice for much longer, but that she had to try. She froze, feeling him before she saw him.
Max was there, his dark green eyes somber. He stared at the tiny dot of blood on her lip, but she felt the probe of his mind and knew he’d figured out she’d scarcely begun to drink when Shelly burst in.
He looked past her to Shelly. “It seems I once again owe you my thanks, Miss Holmes.” But he didn’t sound gracious.
Shelly nodded her fearsome head as if she were in a drawing room. “You are quite welcome, but I didn’t do it for you.”
Max looked at Angel. “Have you seen Alexander? And why are you dressed like that?”
“To follow him. He was also dressed in country attire when he rode off. But Sarina waylaid me.”
The wolf and the vampire exchanged a look. Was he hunting? And if he were, could they catch him red-handed?
Angel scowled. “I am not a child. If either of you know what’s going on, please apprise me.”
Max caught Angel’s arm and led her to the door. “I’ll take you back to your room. You need sleep.”
Angel planted her feet. “I only have bad dreams. I’m going with you.”
She saw him debate lying to her, but her own mind powers were growing stronger. ‘We can look for Alexander together, or we can look for him separately,’ she informed him in that powerful, wordless communication.
Shelly glanced between them, her wide mouth slanting upward again.
Max looked on the verge of exploding with rage, but then he bared his fangs at Angel. “You might not like what I have to do.”
She bared her own nascent fangs back. “And you might find me capable of more than you think when my own life is in danger.”
Max stomped out, his footsteps for once not soundless. Angel stomped after him.
The sound a werewolf makes when it laughs, Angel reflected as she followed Max, is quite a strange one. Husky howls, not quite human but not quite wolf, either, chased them upstairs. And somehow, they warmed Angel for what she suspected would be a long, cold night.
Gustav stood toe to toe with Alexander. They were of a height, but Gustav was stockier. “No! I’m tired of doing your bidding, your ruddy worship,” Gustav bit off. “I planted the servant girl in the mausoleum–when I didn’t even get a taste of her, I might add--I stirred up the villagers against Britton. I’ve even followed your niece for you. She’s smarter than you give her credit for, I’ll tell you that.”
Alexander wrapped his long hand about Gustav’s throat and squeezed delicately, his nails barely imprinting Gustav’s thick skin. “You knew the price when you, an unknown, joined our covenant. You have to prove yourself.”
“I have! And you won’t even allow me to sit in on the meetings--”
“Not to our satisfaction. We’ve been wondering about you since our last conference,” Alexander said conversationally. “You claimed to come from Wales, but we’ve checked our Wales connections and none of the converted ones there have ever heard of you.”
Trying and failing to knock Alexander’s hand away, Gustav snarled, “I was only recently initiated. Besides, there are so few vampires in that remote area they can hardly keep up with everyone.”
Alexander only squeezed harder. “Since your loyalty is obviously in question, other doubts arise. The virginal killings in Oxford coincided with your arrival, for example.
”
Gustav had difficulty responding, but he managed with wheezing breaths, “You say…I’m incompetent, and then you call me the…killer in the next breath?”
That long hand closed a bit tighter. “I cannot imagine a better concealment for the oldest, most dangerous of our kind than acting the bumbling servant.”
Viciously, Gustav kneed Alexander in the privates. With a grunt of pain, Alexander stumbled back, but collected himself for a lunge. He froze where he stood when Gustav brandished a sharp, pointed stake he whipped from his cloak.
Gustav said huskily, his throat still red with Alexander’s fingerprints, “And I cannot imagine a better concealment for a vicious vampire remorseless even amongst our kind than a rich lord who used to be a respected professor at Oxford.”
Grudging respect flared in Alexander’s dark eyes. “You make a valid point. Very well then, I’ll give you an opportunity to prove you are genuinely new to the art, but one of us. Transform.”
This time, Gustav looked a bit embarrassed. “I’ve…only managed a…rabbit.”
“Show me,” Alexander said, stepping back with a skeptical look.
Gustav took a deep breath, closed his eyes and hunched down into his cloak. Lower, lower, until only the top of his head was visible, and then, suddenly–the cloak fell to the ground. Limp and shapeless. Something squirmed inside it, and then out hopped a rabbit.
Alexander relaxed. “You can come back now.”
The rabbit hopped behind a tree and Gustav stepped out a second later. “Satisfied?”
“For the moment. If you’ll do this last task, then I promise you may sit in on the next meeting.”
“How will I get close enough?”
“Use the girl. Threaten her, and you won’t have to worry about getting too close to Max Britton. He’ll get all too close to you.”
Gustav swallowed, his ruddy face going a bit sickly. But he nodded and accepted the watch Alexander handed him. It was heavy, and gold, and looked like Max’s watch.
But it wasn’t.
Angel kicked her mare after Max’s stallion. She was beginning to think he was deliberately leading her in circles. After riding for several hours in the direction in which Alexander had departed, they’d found no trace of him. Angel drew her tired mare even with Max’s horse. “I cannot believe, the way you see in the darkness, that you cannot track Alexander’s horse better than this.”
He reined his mouth sharply to a stop. “Normally I’d fly as a bat and cover the territory much faster. But I have a certain amount of…baggage at the moment.”
Angel glared at him. His goading smile only made her angrier.
“Would you like to try, Angel mine?”
Debating, Angel crossed her arms over her saddle. Finally she nodded. She urged her mare into a trot, not even looking at the ground. To her delight, Max seemed nonplussed at her behavior. But he followed easily enough.
But she didn’t need to try to track Alexander’s horse because she was acting on instinct. And she knew exactly where she was going.
It only took a few moments for them to reach that strangely quiet place in the woods behind the Hall. It looked different in the dark, but Angel remembered the odd shape of that half dead tree, limned now against the moonlight. She dismounted and knelt, feeling for the trap door. To her delight, this time when she tugged, it opened. A gaping hole yawned, leading down into rough steps.
She gave Max a triumphant look. “Do you still think I’m baggage?”
He dismounted, too, tying up their mounts, and grabbed her arm when she started to descend into that hole. “What is this place?”
“I don’t know, but whatever it is, it leads to the Hall.”
Max stiffened, his eyes glowing as he traced the small rise of ground to the rear of the Hall. Without another word, he kissed her. “This could be it, Angel. You’re brilliant, you’re beautiful,” his voice hardened to a command, “and you will stay put.”
Her glare bounced off his hard green eyes.
“If this place contains what I think it does, it’s very dangerous.” He removed the vampire killing kit from his mount and stepped down into the darkness.
He gave her a last minatory look. “I mean it. Stay here, or ride back to the Hall.” The trap door clanged shut behind him.
Counting to ten, Angel gave him a few minutes head start before she lifted the door and followed.
Wearing a clean white dress, Sarina clung to Alexander, uncaring for once of his dirty garments. “It was huge, and horrid and it stopped me from finishing Angel’s conversion. I’m…sorry I failed you, Alexander.”
He patted her back, feeling her trembling. “Are you sure it wasn’t one of us?”
“I’ve never seen one of us transform into a wolf so large.” She thought back, but then she shook her head resolutely. “No, I’m sure its eyes glowed green, not red.”
“Could it possibly be…do you think it might be a werewolf?”
Sarina debated. “There was a strange intelligence I could feel about it. And I’m almost certain it was protective of Angel. I heard no scream after I ran.” She peeped guiltily up at Alexander. “I should have been brave enough to stay.”
“Never mind, my dear. Your skills are not strong enough yet to face down such a beast. The question is–who is this creature and why does it wish to protect Angel?”
“I’m not even sure Angel is still here. I think I sensed Max right before I left.”
“We’ll check, shall we?”
They went to her room and found her undisturbed bed.
Alexander’s eyes narrowed. “This battle over the girl grows tiresome. If I didn’t need her blood, I’d let Max have her. The more he hungers for her, the less he’ll be able to resist her. Just as we planned.” He licked his lips, his fangs growing to glistening points. “But if she’s with Max on one of his nocturnal wanderings…this is the chance I’ve been waiting for. I’m hungry. It’s time we celebrated with the ultimate intimacy, sweet. I’ve had enough does, fawns and punch. I need to hunt.” He caught her hands. “Are you brave enough to follow and sup alongside me?”
Sarina swallowed, but then she nodded bravely. “It’s time I became your wife in every way.”
He kissed her forehead and started toward the window.
She caught his arm. “Alexander…tell me true. Are you the Beefsteak Killer?”
His smile faded. “Will you love me more or less if I say yes?”
She nibbled her lip indecisively.
“My only response to that is that I am powerful, and becoming more so. And once Max Britton is dead, no one will stop us from becoming rulers of every covenant in England.” He led her to the window and transformed into a huge, glistening raven. He flapped away on the breeze, blending with the night. She followed, transforming into a dove, her wings luminous in the moonlight.
Choosing white even as a bird.
They both flew toward the village, searching for prey.
In the night, the smithy’s fire burned hot. A pretty young girl exited his shop, her face glowing with beauty and innocence, carrying the remains of his supper. She walked down the dark village road, unafraid. She heard the swoop of wings and looked up, peering at the strange sight of a raven and a dove sharing the same branch.
But then she walked on. The attack, when it came, was totally unexpected. Strong hands ending in long nails caught her about the throat, cutting off her scream.
By the time they dragged her into the darkness, they’d already begun to feed.
It was almost dawn. Max felt the light creeping along the walls after him through cracks in the tunnel. For reassurance, as usual, he touched the watch in his pocket. He almost missed the side chamber, but when he turned back–he came face to face with Angel.
He gaped at her, stunned not so much because she’d disobeyed him but because she’d followed so silently, blocking both the sound of her movements and her presence from him. Indeed, as he watched, she shied away from the weak ligh
t filtering down around her.
‘Angel, go back,’ he commanded silently.
“No,” she whispered fiercely. “I found this place and I….need to help you.”
He gave her a little push toward the entrance. “Doesn’t it tell you something that the door was unlocked?”
“Yes. It’s a trap. And I’d rather die still part human than exist in this twilight world for all eternity.”
That, he could not argue with.
Shielding her behind him, Max silently made his way into the side chamber. He wasn’t surprised to see it filled with empty coffins. Impossible to tell who rested here on the soil of what land. He looked up again at the grayish light.
However, they shouldn’t have to wait long.
If the Beefsteak Killer rested here, as he suspected, he’d kill every single vampire in this chamber if he had to.
If he was strong enough. He glanced at Angel, who had her head cocked as she listened tensely. He shoved her back into the shadows beneath the stairs, wishing she was strong enough, and he was experienced enough, to transform into mist.
He opened his rosewood case and stuck all four of his stakes in his pockets, holding his golden hammer firmly in his hand.
Angel swallowed as she saw the gleam of gold, and he felt her abrupt fear.
“Go, while you still can. You won’t enjoy this.”
“No.” But she wrapped her arms about herself, as if she felt cold.
Then they heard a slight rustling in the corridor.
From both ends.
Max gripped his hammer more tightly.
The attack came from all sides at once. Stepping in front of Angel, Max struck wildly with his hammer, driving a stake deeply into a broad chest. The creature in front fell, but it was all too soon replaced with another.
And another.
This had happened to Max when he’d been green and too eager, but he’d always managed to escape by transforming.
This time, he couldn’t transform or he’d have to leave Angel behind. They only had one hope.
The Trelayne Inheritance Page 18
