by Brooklyn Ann
Stunned by her poignant speech, Rafe could only watch silently as she administered Anthony’s blood to the wounds. Immediately, his arm began to burn and tingle, and he couldn’t help but shift in his seat.
She placed a hand on his shoulder, holding him firm. “I told you… You must remain still.”
“I think the ether is wearing off.” Then again, she still resembled an angel…and her touch definitely intensified his euphoria.
Cassandra commanded Anthony to bring some more ether. “Only inhale a little this time. I have no idea if too much will make you ill. When I tried ether, the effects lasted over an hour and I had a devil of a headache afterward.”
Rafe inhaled from the cloth Anthony proffered while Cassandra continued to operate.
“You didn’t tell me I would suffer a headache,” he accused.
“Well, I am almost finished. Perhaps if you find something upon which to focus your attention, the pain will remain at bay a while longer.”
As she leaned forward, Rafe could see the tantalizing display of her breasts above the fabric of her apron. “I think I’ve found just the thing.”
Anthony chuckled beside them, but Cassandra was too occupied with her surgery to notice Rafe’s gaze. He wanted her to notice. He wanted her to see him as more than the subject of her experiments. He wanted her to see him as a man. He wanted to see if her beautiful breasts felt and tasted as delicious as they looked. He stared, transfixed, until she finished. The moment the last incision knitted back together, Rafe gave Anthony a pointed look.
His third-in-command needed no further urging. “I shall take my leave now.”
Cassandra cleaned the blood from Rafe’s arm with a damp cloth. “How do you feel now?”
Slowly, Rafe lifted his arm higher than it had moved in more than fifteen years. He flexed his fingers, extending them. Madre de Dios, his little countess was a miracle worker.
“I feel very well indeed, Querida. Well enough, in fact, to do this…” With strength he hadn’t possessed in years, he deftly caught her by the waist and hauled her onto his lap.
A startled squeak escaped her lips just before Rafe claimed her mouth with his, reveling in her taste. Cassandra moaned and tangled her hands in his hair, crushing her breasts against his bare chest. His hardness ground against her soft heat. He longed to yank up her skirts and thrust deep inside her sweetness. As he reached to do just that, a knock sounded on the door.
“Cristo!” he hissed as Cassandra scrambled off his lap.
“My lord, her ladyship’s bath is ready,” William intoned.
“Thank you, William,” Cassandra stammered, and she fled the room as if chased by demons.
Rafe slumped in the chair and buried his face in his hands. And perhaps she was. Just one, anyway.
* * *
Clayton squinted at the trio of vampires who stood nearly thirty meters away beneath a copse of trees at the edge of Rafael’s territory. “Come closer so I can get a better look at you.”
The one in the center shook his head. “Not until I hear your terms and you can guarantee our safety.”
“Don’t be foolish.” Clayton sneered. “You are rogues. You forfeited safety the moment your lord exiled you. The only thing I can offer is shelter, hunting grounds, and my silence as to your presence in this city. And I will only do so if you agree to my terms.”
The male on the right scratched his shaggy beard. “Quit toying with us then and tell us what you want.”
Clayton tamped down his ire at the rogue’s insolence. Thankfully his need for such a cur would only be temporary. “Very little. Only a few abductions and perhaps a killing or two if necessary.” He shrugged. “It’s not as if you haven’t done worse.”
The three rogues regarded him with mutinous glares before huddling together to silently confer.
Finally, the one in the center cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Very well, what do you want us to do?”
Clayton forced his features into a solemn visage. “The current Lord of this city is corrupt and placing the vampires of London in danger. He must be overthrown to preserve our safety. To do so, I need to prove his incompetence. That is where you gentlemen come in.” Smiling, he folded his hands behind his back. “I need you to kidnap a London vampire, but do not harm her unless it is absolutely necessary.”
“I see…” The lead rogue smirked and laced his fingers together under his chin. “And what happens afterward?”
“You do not need to be privy to the exact details. But I will say this: if you three do your jobs well, you will rise to the top ranks of my hierarchy when I become Lord of the city.” Clayton surveyed them all. “What say you?”
The three rogues conferred a moment longer before intoning in unison: “We agree.”
Clayton grinned and beckoned the new members of his rebellion forward. Now it was time to execute the next step of his plan.
Ten
12 October 1823
Cassandra awoke to hear a sharp hiss of pain. Seconds later, Rafe struck a match and lit an oil lamp, illuminating his agonized grimace.
“My God, Rafe, what is the matter?” Then she saw. His hand, along with the muscles in his arm and shoulder, were overtaken with pulsing spasms.
He followed her gaze. “Ironic, isn’t it? For years I’ve wanted sensation in this godforsaken limb. It seems I’ve gotten my wish.”
Cassandra threw off the covers and climbed out of bed. “I must examine you at once.”
“There isn’t time right now. I need to hunt. Besides, I am quite certain everything is fine. Look.” He moved his fingers and rotated his arm, smiling despite tight lines of pain around his eyes. “I can move this arm threefold as much as yesterday. My discomfort is likely part of the adjustment process.”
Her eyes widened as she grasped the obvious. “Of course! Why didn’t I foresee this? The muscles have been atrophied for so long that naturally there would be pain from them ‘waking up,’ for lack of a better term.” She crossed the room to the wardrobe, threw open the mahogany doors, and grabbed a gown. “We must go to the laboratory at once. I have some cannabis.”
Rafe took the gown. “You are not doing anything until you eat, Querida. You’ve grown thinner since you came here.” He threw the cranberry velvet garment over her head, working through the buttons twice as fast as before. “We will talk further when I return.”
Just when he’d finished helping her dress, there was a knock on the door.
“Yes?” Rafe growled with apparent irritation and impatience.
William’s voice echoed through the wood, timid and trembling. “Clayton is here, my lord. He says the matter is urgent.”
“Cristo.” Rafe jerked the door open and followed the vampire down the stairs.
Rife with curiosity, Cassandra saw no reason not to accompany them. After all, no one had forbidden her to follow. But once they arrived downstairs and Clayton’s gaze met hers, filled with burning scorn, she was tempted to flee.
No, I won’t let him frighten me. Cassandra lifted her chin and met his gaze with all the aristocratic hauteur she could manage. Her dreaded mother-in-law would have been proud.
“What is it, Clayton?” Rafe interrupted the silent exchange.
Clayton glared at Cassandra once more before turning to the Lord of London. “Lenore has gone missing, my lord.”
“Lenore?” Rafe frowned in confusion.
An air of nearly imperceptible chiding laced the other vampire’s reply. “Yes, she is one of the vampires who take refuge at St. Pancras. Don’t you remember?”
“Ah yes, the frail one with the dark hair.” Rafe nodded. “We must begin a search, though I shall have to hunt on the way.” He turned to William, reluctance lacing his tone. “Fetch Anthony. He’d better come along. You will stay behind and guard Lady Rosslyn.”
If William was
vexed with being relegated to such a lowly task, he concealed it well under a bland countenance. “Yes, my lord.”
Clayton regarded him with a strange look before returning his attention to Rafe. “Let us be off then. I have a bad feeling about Lenore. It is not like her to be absent without notifying anyone.”
Rafe followed his second-in-command, glancing over his shoulder at Cassandra. “Behave yourself, Countess.”
Cassandra frowned as Anthony joined them and the three vampires departed. Something strange was afoot, and she couldn’t help feeling that there was more to the situation than a missing vampire.
William coughed behind her. “Your breakfast is ready, my lady.”
“Thank you.” She fought to keep the bewilderment from her tone. Even he was behaving oddly.
She sighed and settled down at the vast dining-room table as the food was brought in. Breakfast at five o’clock in the evening, vampire secrets, and the phenomenal medical breakthroughs with Rafe’s surgery…her world had certainly taken a strange turn. Was she caught in a dream?
“May I join you, my lady?” William interrupted her musings, still behaving with unusual shyness.
Though she preferred to remain alone, she saw no reason to refuse him in the face of his politeness. “Of course.”
William inclined his head and sat across from her. “I do not think it right for you to be held captive like this.” He lifted his head, gazing upon her with eyes as tragic as those of a starved puppy. “You have done nothing to deserve it.”
Cassandra raised a brow at his unexpected display of sympathy. “That is true.” Yet when I came here, you wanted Rafe to kill me.
“And that is why I’ve decided I shall help you escape.” He folded his arms and regarded her with determination.
She nearly choked on her bread. “I beg your pardon?”
William nodded. “It is unfair for you to be trapped here any longer. And it should be fairly simple for you to get away.”
“How so?” she asked doubtfully. “Rafe Marked me, which as far as I know means that he can use his unique…abilities to locate me anywhere.”
“That power has limits.” William favored her with a conspiratorial smile. “If you get far enough away, he’ll have difficulty sensing you. And if you leave the city, it is doubtful that he will bother to seek you out. He has far more substantial concerns.”
For some inexplicable reason, Cassandra felt slighted that Rafe would consider her an “insubstantial concern.”
Feigning indifference, she took a delicate sip of tea. “What is to stop him from sensing his Mark on me on my way out of London?”
“Sometimes, strong emotions blur the Mark, which would make it difficult for him to trace you. However, you’re not an overly emotional sort of female, are you, Lady Rosslyn?”
She shook her head. “Of course not.” Though lately…
“Then that method will likely not work. However, there is a better way.” He leaned forward and said softly, “He cannot trace you if you are unconscious.”
That did not sound agreeable. She couldn’t hide her suspicion. “What do you mean?”
William held out his hands in the age-old gesture of innocence. “Nothing nefarious, I swear. I am sure you have many a sleeping draught in your pharmacopeia. All you have to do is take one, and I will transport you out of Villar’s clutches and away from the city before you awaken.”
“No.” The adamant conviction in her refusal surprised even her. “Although I dislike the idea of being a prisoner, I have been given the chance to study mysteries that other scientists and physicians could only dream of. I cannot turn my back on such an opportunity.”
But is that the only reason you wish to remain here? her inner voice taunted. No. I want to stay with Rafe. The realization struck her like a bolt through the chest, intensifying the ache in her heart at the thought of leaving him.
Cassandra scrambled up from her seat. “Excuse me. I must return to my studies. Mr. Wakley should be here soon for my lesson.”
William eyed her warily. “You won’t tell Rafe of my offer, will you? He might kill me if you do.”
“Certainly not. You were only trying to do me a kindness after all, and I would hate to see you punished for that.” Before he could continue this discomfiting conversation, she fled the dining room.
Was William really trying to do her a kindness? Considering all of his hostility toward her when she’d first arrived, it was hard not to suspect his motives. He may have even intended to kill her himself once he smuggled her out of the city. However, Cassandra decided it would be best to try to sort out the matter on her own before speaking to Rafe.
Rafe… The memory of his burning amber gaze and the delirious heat of his kiss weakened her knees so suddenly that she had to cling to the banister for support, lest she tumble down the stairs. Cassandra dug her fingers into the fine-grained wood until her knuckles turned white. What was happening to her? Where had her reasoning fled?
The moment she recovered her balance, she charged up the stairs and into her laboratory. Slumping against the door, she focused on the meticulous organization of beakers, medical texts, and surgical instruments, willing the comforting sight to calm her tumultuous thoughts.
Staring at the tools of her trade, she evaluated the facts. I’ve been taken prisoner by Rafael Villar. He is a vampire. Because I know this, he will eventually kill me or make me like him. His arm is crippled but he is allowing me to examine and operate on him…in exchange for kisses. Taking a deep breath, she continued her inner recitation. William has offered to help me escape and I refused. I refused because I want to heal Rafe’s arm. I am healing his arm. I want to learn more about vampires. I want to know more about him. I want him to kiss me more. I want to remain with him because I lo— Her mind cut off the illogical word with a mute cry of alarm. No, she mustn’t even think it!
But her traitorous emotions refused to be quelled, forcing Cassandra to acknowledge defeat. If not the fanciful, likely imaginary manifestation of love, she felt something for Rafael Villar. She could not claim indifference, or even casual fondness. He’d captured her fascination from the moment she’d laid eyes on him a year ago. His touch made her weak and left her longing for more. His kisses made her reasoning flee, only to be replaced by a passion she’d never felt. Even his company affected her.
What if he only kissed her because she was there and he had no more preferable alternative? What if he felt nothing for her?
A strange emptiness filled her when he was gone. And when she saw or read something interesting, she felt the urge to share it with him. It was so very odd.
Shaking her head, Cassandra crossed the laboratory to her library of medical texts. It did no good to ponder what she couldn’t control. What she could do was find the best way to progress on Rafe’s treatment. The best way to ease his pain. Anthony had brought her some cannabis—apparently Rafe was supposed to smoke it like tobacco—though she had no guarantee of how effective it would prove to be.
Cassandra scanned the books and selected the volumes she thought would contain the most useful information on atrophy and muscle spasms. Once she was settled in an overstuffed chair by the fire, her nerves calmed as she absorbed herself in the soothing routine of studying.
She came upon a remedy for Rafe’s pain and spasms. It was unorthodox, yet completely logical. The thought of performing such a treatment made her pulse race and her entire being kindle with desire. Cassandra now understood what Hippocrates meant when he’d stated: “The physician must be experienced in many things, but assuredly in rubbing.”
Another tendril of heat curled through her belly. Oh yes, she would love to “rub” Rafe. Cassandra shook her head at the unreasonable craving. Never before had she wished to touch another person so intimately. Her experience in the marriage bed had been a chore she’d endured with dread. But with Rafe…
Torrid mental images played across her mind. Her fingers buried in his silken hair…her breasts pressed against his hot, muscled chest…his amber eyes glowing with savage hunger as he thrust inside her, deep and hard…
Cassandra gasped as moisture pulsed between her thighs. She knew it would be different with him than with her late husband. Just how different, she had no notion…but she was now resolved to find out.
After all, she could be dead in mere weeks. Why not experience physical pleasure for the first time in her life? And what better prospect than Rafe, whose kisses warmed her in places that had long since been cold?
She glanced back down at the book, memorizing the instructions and techniques. Yes, this would be the perfect method to begin her seduction. And if that failed, at least she would still be aiding the treatment of his arm.
Thomas Wakley arrived and Cassandra had to hide a smile over William’s discomfort at helping him bring the cadaver back up to the laboratory. For monsters who were supposed to terrorize the night, vampires were decidedly squeamish.
Once they were alone, she handed Wakley the article she’d written about the effects of ether, though she’d omitted the fact that her patient had required a second dose.
“Splendid!” Wakley declared after skimming the piece. “And how fares his arm?”
“It is too soon to tell,” she said evasively. “I must wait for the incisions to heal.”
He nodded. “Well, we had better get on with the next lesson if there’s any hope for the operations to be successful.”
She learned even more this time. As they made further incisions and delved deeper into the tissues, her mind synchronized the new knowledge with the old and mapped out the course of Rafe’s next surgery.
Once they were finished, she asked more questions about burn wounds and muscle injuries, jotting down notes in her journal.
