Blood Bond

by Alicia Ryan

  Phillip stepped back to allow Darren to enter, and they both sat down—Darren in the nearest chair, Phillip on the sofa Roxanna had vacated.

  Phillip told him of the note, of Roxanna’s unease, of his own suspicions and of how he’d found her.

  “I...I can’t be certain,” he said, “but Cranston was fully clothed when I got there. I don’t think...well, you know.”

  Darren felt something in his chest unclench. “And you were able to stop him?”

  The boy nodded. “As I told her, I used to box at school. I still go to the club on occasion. It’s not hard to beat an opponent who’s had no training. Even a big one.”

  For a moment, Darren let his mind wander to the horror of what might have happened if Phillip hadn’t been there. But he cut off that line of thinking. It was too painful. And it would fuel a rage he might not be able to control. He’d think about it later.

  “I’m forever in your debt for what you did today,” he said. “There’s nothing I could do that would be sufficient repayment.”

  “There’s no question of debt, your Lordship. None at all.”

  “My name is Darren, and I insist you use it. There’s no need for formality between us.”

  “Very well. Darren.”

  “I know selling your estate did not get you out of debt. You still have balances at Drummond’s Bank and at the stable yard. Those will be cleared by the end of the day.”

  Phillip shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you do that.”

  “On the contrary. You can’t stop me. They won’t refuse my money.” Darren paused. “Besides, I have something to ask of you in return.”

  At that, he got a suspicious look, but he continued on. “You can look out for Roxanna when I can’t,” he said. “I wish I could be with her every minute, but I am often tied up during the day. I want your word that you’ll keep an eye on her. That you’ll make sure she’s safe.”

  “You have my word, of course. I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise. Not now. But that’s still no reason to settle my debts. I need no payment to guard her against harm.”

  “I know,” Darren said, unable to stop a frown. “Though I’m sure I don’t like the reason why. Nevertheless, your debts will be cleared, and you will have my gratitude to rely on should you ever need it.”

  “I...thank you.”

  Darren started to rise, but Phillip’s voice stopped him.

  “What about Cranston? I’m not sure one beating will deter him for long.”

  Darren fought the urge to let his fangs descend. “I’ll see to Cranston,” he replied. “He will not be a threat to her after tonight.”

  “You don’t intend to kill him do you?”

  Darren thought about the question for several minutes. Long enough he was sure young Phillip was beginning to worry.

  “I don’t think so,” he answered. “That would be inconvenient. And far better than he deserves.”

  To his surprise, Phillip looked disappointed rather than relieved.

  “Don’t worry,” Darren said, slightly revising his opinion of the young man, “he’ll beg for death before I’m done with him. He won’t get it, but he’ll beg for it. I promise you that.”

  Phillip bit his lower lip and nodded. “Good.”

  Darren stood. “Tell me, what’s the weather?”

  Phillip snorted. “It’s December. It’s cold and on the verge of rain if it hasn’t started already.”

  “Good. Come.” He motioned for Phillip to follow him. “I’ll show you to the door.”

  Phillip did as he was bid, but turned to Darren on the threshold. “I’ll explain to Padworth Roxanna won’t be performing tonight. I think she should stay here.”

  Darren nodded. “Yes, but don’t trouble yourself. I’ll send word to Padworth. I want Cranston barred immediately, and I’ll make him whole on however much tonight’s bar tally is less than last night’s. That should pacify him. And you’ll take my carriage back,” Darren insisted, nodding to where it stood in the street out front. “I’ll have Harris rouse the driver from the kitchen. I’m sure Gracie is still plying him with soup. As if I don’t pay him enough to sit in the cold for a few minutes.”

  “Thank you, your Lordship.” He looked over Darren’s shoulder up the large staircase. “Please, take good care of her.”

  “I’ll do the best I can.” He sighed. “And I’ll rely on you for the rest.”

  Chapter Ten

  Darren was there, lying beside her, when she opened her eyes. His own were closed, and his dark lashes fanned out over pale skin. His sculpted shoulders were bare, but he had the covers tucked up high around them, hiding any more of him from her gaze. He was so beautiful; it almost kept the memory of Cranston at bay, but not quite. In a moment, she found herself shivering beneath the blankets.

  That small motion brought Darren instantly awake.

  “Roxanna.”

  She gave him a weak smile. “Darren.”

  The arm that had been resting across her waist moved under the covers to pull her close to him.

  She snuggled in. “Hmm,” she said. “You’re warmer than usual.”

  “Oh. That’s...uh...because of you.”

  “Oh. Then good. It wasn’t all one-sided.” She ducked her head under his chin. “You gave me what I needed, and I thank you.”

  “You need never worry in that regard. I’ll always see to your needs to the full extent of my power to do so.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  He moved back slightly to look at her. “Why did you come to me today?”

  “It’s not polite to answer a question with a question.”

  He laughed. “I’m glad to see you spirited enough to make jokes, even at my expense.”

  She closed her eyes. “It wasn’t as bad as it might have been.” Looking at him, she smiled. “Phillip was spectacular. You should have seen him. I think Cranston’s sheer astonishment worked to his disadvantage.”

  “Yes. I’m going to attempt to do something for young Phillip in return. I sent Harris off to settle a couple of his larger debts. Though it hardly compares to what he did today.”

  “That’s nice of you.”

  He smiled. “I’m not incapable of being nice.”

  “Did your soul help you out with that one?”

  Darren’s brows drew downward. “Actually, no. I haven’t seen him for a day or two. He could be sulking.”

  “Sulking about what?”

  “Ah. About my...engagement...with you, I’m afraid.”

  “He doesn’t like me?”

  “Well, he doesn’t know you, yet, but I think he feels his place is threatened.”

  Roxanna gave a half-laugh. “Tell him to rest easy. I’m not going to become anyone’s moral compass.”

  Darren fought back a genuine smile. “I’ll give him the message.”

  Roxanna looked around. “Do you know what time it is? I’m probably going to have to leave soon.”

  “No, you’re not. Padworth is not expecting you tonight, and I’ve had the cook lay in more than the usual stores. It’s about tea-time, if you’d like something light. We can have dinner later.”

  “But you don’t eat. Do you?”

  “No. It’s quite an inconvenience.”

  “But you have a cook?”

  “A butler, a cook, a maid, and a laundress who comes in once a week.”

  “How do you keep your secret from all those people?”

  “Mostly, I sleep all day and tell them I take tea and dinner at the club. It’s not odd for a bachelor. Gracie, the cook, mostly sees to Harris and the maid. And the occasional guest.”

  “And they just believe you?”

  He gave a little tilt of his head. “Occasionally I eat something to keep them from getting suspicious.”

  “But I thought you couldn’t eat?”

  “I can’t. Whatever I eat just comes right back up, so to speak. But it isn’t much of a problem now that the indoor plumbing has been installed. I’ve h
ad that for years now. Makes one’s bodily functions, or the lack thereof, a bit easier to keep to oneself.”

  “Uh...speaking of indoor plumbing...”

  “Oh, right. I forget.” He got up from his side of the bed, giving her the opportunity to study him fully naked. She couldn’t see them from where she lay, but she suspected even his feet would be beautiful.

  He dragged on pants and a shirt and then walked around and pulled on a braided cord on her side of the bed.

  In a moment, there was a brief knock, and the door opened. Darren had moved to stand in front of it, so all she saw was the light from the hallway, but she heard Harris agree to have a bath drawn and to bring up Miss Collins’ new dress.

  “It will be a few minutes,” he said, closing the door and turning back to her. “The water has to be heated downstairs and then pumped up to this floor. “I told him to knock when it was ready. The bathroom is right across the hall.”

  “And you’ve gotten me new clothes as well?”

  “I didn’t think you’d want to wear that dress. In fact, I’ll have it burned if you want. That’s what I’d prefer to do with it.”

  “That’s fine with me. The less to remind me the better.”

  He moved and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  She closed her eyes. “Like I said, it could have been worse. But, God, he’s big. I was terrified. And he seemed to really hate me. I’ve no idea why. I really thought he might kill me.”

  “Did he hurt you? Your neck is bruised.”

  Roxanna looked down and for the first time realized she was wearing just her chemise. “I suppose there will be more bruises under this. He seemed to particularly enjoy that part.”

  Darren made a noise that sounded perilously close to a growl. “Can I see?”

  She pushed the covers back but winced at the pain in her hip when she went to stand. “Uh. Bastard.” But she pushed herself up and pulled the chemise over her head.

  She saw Darren look her over with a hard face, and then she looked down herself.

  The worst bruising was on her left hip. It was already purple in large areas, surrounded by shades of green. But most horrifying was the distinct handprint on her right breast.

  “Oh, God,” she said, putting up her own hand to cover it.

  And then she did what she had told herself she wasn’t. She started to quiver, right down to her bones, and her eyes wouldn’t hold back the tears.

  In an instant, Darren folded her naked form into his arms, one hand around her waist, the other fisted into her hair. “You’ll never have to worry about him again, Roxanna. I promise you that.”

  She took a deep breath. “I believe you. I believe you, and I don’t care. I don’t care what you do to him. He deserves to be eaten.”

  “Trust me. He won’t be able to ever do this again. Not to anyone.”

  She leaned her head more against his chest. “Do you think he’s the only one?”

  There was far too long a pause before he answered. “I suspect there might be more who assume the freedom you espouse in your songs might include their freedom to do as they like.”

  “Darren, maybe...”

  “No,” he said, cutting her off. “I mean, there’s no need. Phillip and I have come to an agreement. He’s to watch over you during the day, and I’ll be at the club as soon as the sun has set. You’ll have no need to worry.” He tilted her chin up. “And any notes you get from me will be signed with a ‘V’. How about that?”

  “My vampire.”

  “Yours alone.”

  The knock at the door drew them apart as Darren moved to drape his dressing gown around her and then take the bundle of clothes from Harris at the door.

  “This is fancy,” she commented, rubbing her fingers on the green silk lapel of his robe.

  “I have more money than anyone would ever guess. I can afford to expend some of it on life’s little luxuries. Besides, it’s not only my sense of smell that’s enhanced. They all are—sight, hearing—and touch. I like the feel of the silk.”

  “I’ve never owned anything silk.”

  A bit of the wickedness she had glimpsed before returned to his smile. “You can wear that any time you like.”

  He set her new clothes on the bed, and she walked over to examine them. A new wool dress, in light blue this time, along with a matching hooded cloak that would fall to just above her elbows, a new chemise, and a silk purse in a blue that matched the dress.

  “So, I do own something silk now?”

  “You can buy something silk every day if you want. I’m happy to buy you beautiful things. You should have beautiful things.”

  She smiled and touched the dress again. “Well, at least it’s not gray. I was getting sick of gray.”

  “No, not the best color for you. Not really the best color for anyone.”

  “No. I suspect Madame Graham selected it especially for me. She left no doubt that she deemed me unrespectable. Probably thought the gray would do me good.”

  “Then I suggest you have a bath and wash away whatever trace of respectability may be clinging to you. I much prefer you as you are.”

  She pulled his dressing gown tighter around her and picked up the new clothes. “Lead on. A hot bath is never a bad thing.”

  As the water in the metal tub cooled around her, Roxanna tried to take stock of her situation. Darren’s bathroom was as opulent as the rest of his home—the floor covered in shiny, black tiles, a black satin curtain around a standing shower that seemed to be worked by some sort of pump handle, and a polished wood basin-stand with porcelain bowl and pitcher. The promised flush toilet occupied the wall in front of her, beside the shower. Her tub had apparently been brought in from somewhere else, as it took up the middle of the room.

  The suds had dissolved and turned the water cloudy, but the bruises on her skin were still visible. And her hip hurt.

  Oddly, it wasn’t the bruising or the pain that made her begin to think her situation might be real. It was the shower. She didn’t know anything about 19th-century plumbing. Not the first thing. And while her fantasizing brain might well have dreamed up a flush toilet for her, the shower she was looking at was like nothing she’d ever seen or considered.

  She stood up, levered herself out of the tub and toweled off. That was one thing that had improved with time, she thought—towel technology.

  Then she drew back the curtain on the front of the shower and looked inside again. The tiled floor was about a foot off the ground; you’d have to step up to get in. On the other side was a lever with a wooden handle. Up above, a wide, circular shower head hung down a few inches under the top of the shower, which looked like a wooden box about a foot deep.

  Wrapping the towel around her and tucking the ends together over her breasts, she leaned across the shower and pumped the lever back and forth. It was a moment before she heard the tell-tale sound of running water. She pulled open the curtain on the back of the shower to see a metal pipe. Water swished up the inside of the pipe; she heard it hitting some kind of metal surface in the box above her head. And then the first few drops came out, a couple landing on her face and the top of her head. Cold, of course.

  Well, that tears it, she thought. There’s no way in hell I would have dreamed up a shower with no hot water. Not in a million years.

  She let go of the lever and returned the curtains to the way she’d found them. After donning her new clothes, she stepped out into the hallway to find Darren leaning against the wall next to his bedroom door, waiting for her.

  “Feel any better?” he asked.

  For a long time, she just looked at him. If he was real...he was the best thing that had ever come her way.

  “Roxanna?” he prodded.

  “Oh,” she said, drawing her gaze up to meet his. “Sorry. Yes, I do feel a little better.” She tilted her head. “Why do you have a shower?”

  “What?”

  “A shower. Why do y
ou need one?”

  He laughed. “You’re right. I don’t exactly need to wash off the sweat of the day, but I do occasionally get dirty. And I don’t mind the cold water, so it saves Harris having to organize getting hot water up here.”

  She pursed her lips and nodded.

  “Something about the shower troubles you?”

  “I didn’t know how it worked.”

  He raised a brow at her.

  “So I couldn’t have dreamed it up, could I? I don’t think I can give my subconscious credit for inventing turn of the century plumbing.”

  Now both eyebrows went up. “So you believe me now?”

  She gave a long sigh. “I guess I’m beginning to.”

  He stepped away from the wall and took her arm. “Come on. Let’s see what Harris and Gracie have cobbled together for tea.”

  Tea, consisting of cheese sandwiches, cookies with some sort of nuts, two slices of a plain yellow cake and a jar of raspberry jam—and, of course, hot tea, was served in a downstairs room she hadn’t been in before. Darren called it the morning room. Apparently because it got the morning sun. And, for people who received visitors during the morning, was where they were seen.

  As they were alone, Darren ate nothing, just sat opposite her across the small table, watching.

  “It’s a pity you can’t enjoy this anymore,” she said between bites of a second cheese sandwich.

  He smiled. “I don’t miss it. After I was first turned, food still smelled good, even though I wasn’t hungry for it. That lasted a few months before the smell got to be rather noxious. I’ve learned to ignore it. You’ve no idea how much of the world smells like food.”

  “Do you like it? Being a vampire?”

  “I try not to think of it. If you’re asking if it is a fate I would choose, the answer would be no. And yet, this existence, like any other, has its benefits as well as its costs and...inconveniences.”

  “And having to drink human blood? Is that a benefit, a cost or an inconvenience?”

  “No vampire could call anything to do with the drinking of blood a cost. In the beginning, when I wasn’t able to stop myself from killing—that got to be an inconvenience.”