by Brooklyn Ann
Cassandra wasn’t finished with her orders. Facing him squarely, despite the sudden blush that returned to her cheeks, she demanded, “And you must stop sleeping on the floor. Such a hard surface can do nothing but ill for the healing process.”
Rafe’s brows rose in astonishment. Surely she could not mean… “But I must share your room to guard you, and I cannot very well have you sleeping on the floor.”
She shrugged, though her blush deepened. “I know, though truly it shouldn’t be too much of a hassle. The bed is, well…very large.”
Her words made him harden further. “Too much of a hassle?” he repeated in disbelief, eyes raking her delectable form. “Surely you are not that innocent.”
“Of course not,” she whispered through temptingly parted lips.
Rafe frowned. Was she trying to seduce him? No, she couldn’t be. No woman would want something as ugly as him. The herb he’d smoked must be altering his perception.
“Will you, ah, take your payment now?” she asked softly.
He shook his head. To kiss her now, after becoming so aroused from her touch, would surely make him lose control. “The pleasure you gave me with this treatment is more than adequate.”
Her long lashes swept her cheeks as she closed her eyes. “Very well.”
Rafe blinked. Could she possibly be disappointed? Surely that was wishful thinking. Wishful thinking compounded by the effects of the drug.
He stood and donned his shirt. He needed to get away from her before he changed his mind about their bargain. “I have some business to attend to. Thank you again for treating my arm, Querida.”
“You are most welcome. Now, do not forget to squeeze that ball.” Her eyes narrowed as she took a deep, shaking breath. “And I still must insist you sleep in the bed from now on.”
Rafe fought back a surge of lust at the thought. “I told you—”
Unbelievably, she held up a hand and silenced him. “If you are that concerned with my proximity, then I shall sleep on the floor.”
Rafe scowled. “I am not about to have a lady sleep on the floor like a dog.”
“Oh?” she countered sweetly. “Yet it is perfectly acceptable for you to do so?” Her chin lifted in mute challenge. “Very well, then if you insist on sleeping on the floor, I shall do so as well, no matter what you say.”
He gaped at her, stunned that she had cornered him. There was no way in hell that he would allow her to suffer such discomfort. “Fine. We’ll share the bed.”
Frustrated and confused at the direction of the conversation, he strode out of the room. Stubborn, foolish woman. How in the hell could she not understand the danger she’d just placed herself in? It would almost serve her right if he succumbed to the temptation she threw in his face and ravaged her the moment they were alone in the bedchamber.
Rafe shook his head and relit his cigar. No, he couldn’t do that to her. He wasn’t an animal. He could control his impulses, no matter how much she seemed to be taunting him. He frowned. Was she? Either way, he would resist her for both their sakes. He had enough guilt on his conscience for all he was putting her through. He didn’t need to add to it.
His stomach roiled in hunger. He licked his fangs, realizing that his hunger was much stronger than it should be. Another effect of the cannabis? Rafe shrugged. Either way, he had better feed once more before rejoining his countess. Best to take all precautions to ensure her safety.
* * *
Cassandra’s pulse accelerated as Rafe entered the bedchamber. She glanced at him over her shoulder, hoping she appeared coy and seductive. “Will you assist me with my gown?”
As his fingers deftly unbuttoned the blue taffeta, she shivered at his touch.
“Does your foolish ultimatum still stand?” he asked levelly.
She fought not to stammer. “It does indeed.”
He sighed. “I hope your stubbornness does not reap unpleasant consequences.”
Triumph curved her lips in a smile as she removed her gown. Rafe was going to sleep in the bed with her. A thrill of anticipation made her knees weak. Would her strategy prove effective? Would he be tempted to take her?
Rafe loosened her stays, yet her chest still felt tight. She did not go behind the privacy screen. Summoning her courage, Cassandra removed her stays and stockings in front of the vampire. His harsh breath stole her own.
Once down to only her chemise, she climbed into the large bed. As he removed his boots, she tried not to stare. Would he undress completely? Rafe stalked closer, then stopped to look at her, his burning gaze searing her for an eternity.
Then he got on the bed…and lay down on top of the covers.
“Good night, Querida,” he whispered and extinguished the lantern.
Cassandra bit back a sigh of disappointment.
Could it be that he didn’t want her? No, if that were the case, then he would not have been so vehemently against sharing a bed…and she’d felt his hard length pressing against her body when he kissed her. His body desired her, at least. Likely he was trying to play the gentleman. His words the night he first brought her here swept through her memory: I won’t ravage you. I may be a monster, but not a reprehensible one.
She sighed. If he was simply being stubborn out of a misplaced sense of chivalry, she would have to work harder to disabuse him of that notion.
Twelve
16 October 1823
Hungry, so hungry. Lenore’s throat was arid from blood thirst as sharp pangs relentlessly assaulted her empty belly.
Three days had passed since Clayton had fed her. He was starving her, keeping her weak. Her head lolled on her shoulders as gray spots danced in her vision. His strategy was working. Another day or two and she would be unable to move.
The cellar door opened with a painful screech. Lenore tensed as loud footsteps plodded down the stairs. Hamish. Her lip curled up in scorn. One would think a vampire sometime beyond his first decade would have learned to walk more quietly.
“’Ello, luv,” he said jovially, leering down at her with swinish eyes. “Did ye miss me?”
Lenore’s flesh crawled in revulsion as he reached out to squeeze her bruised breasts. Another rape… She didn’t know if she could bear it, but somehow she would. Just as she had survived all the others.
Clayton was a mad fiend to allow this. If he succeeded in usurping Rafael Villar and taking over London, his reign would be one of blood and terror. No vampire would be safe.
As Hamish drew nearer, her predatory hunger roared to life. Despite her disgust, she licked her fangs. She needed blood. Desperately.
The rogue vampire hiked up her torn skirts, smacking his fat lips in anticipation of the assault. The scent of his blood nearly overpowered her dread. Once he came close enough, she might be able to bite him…and he might let her.
Lenore gasped—not at his intrusion—but at an idea. The plan was tenuous, gossamer in fact. No matter, she would rather die trying to succeed than endure this degradation any longer without a fight.
* * *
Rafe stalked in front of the gathered assembly of London vampires, barely suppressing his fury. Nearly half eyed him petulantly, as if he’d terribly inconvenienced them by calling this meeting. His fists clenched at his sides. How could they be so selfish when one of their own was likely dead or in danger? He sighed. At least all had obeyed his summons.
He held up a hand to silence their chatter. “Although I am certain many of you already know, I must announce it officially: Lenore has gone missing. Furthermore, I have reason to believe that rogues are in the city.”
“Rogues?” Clayton’s derisive snort echoed through the chamber. “How do we know your pet vampire hunter is not responsible? Or the surgeon paying her calls?”
Gasps and murmurs of agreement broke out among the congregation. Rafe rubbed his temples, eyes burning with exhaustion. Clayt
on had been resentful when Ian made Rafe his second-in-command instead of him. When Rafe became Lord of London, he’d hoped that making Clayton his second would mollify him. He had been catastrophically wrong.
Resisting the urge to bare his fangs, Rafe spoke patiently as if to a small child. “First, Lady Rosslyn is not a vampire hunter. She is a physician, as I informed you before. Second, she has been in my custody and under guard this entire time, as is the surgeon who is giving her lessons in the healing arts.”
Clayton glared in obvious anger at Rafe’s patronizing tone. “I still maintain that she is dangerous. And I do not understand why you haven’t yet decided whether to kill her or Change her. The longer she remains alive and human, the more we are at risk.”
“We have bigger concerns than a mere mortal prisoner,” Rafe snarled. “One of our people is missing, and rogue vampires may be invading our land. We must address these issues immediately. All of us. Lady Rosslyn is my responsibility and mine alone.”
Clayton lifted his chin. “I disagree, Villar. I believe—”
“Silence!” Rafe snarled.
The other vampires watched the exchange with perverse fascination. The situation was quickly getting out of control…which was likely what Clayton intended. It seemed his second needed to be reminded who was in charge.
“Clayton,” he said softly, though he wanted to roar. “I have had quite enough of your insolence. I command you to leave this meeting and begin searching for the rogues.”
His second-in-command bristled before giving him an insultingly slight bow. “Yes, my lord.”
“Oh, and Clayton?” Rafe said to the vampire’s retreating back.
“Yes?” he replied through clenched teeth.
“Contradict me again and I shall appoint a new second-in-command. Do it a third time and you will suffer the most painful consequences.” Rafe wanted to strip him of his title right now, but to do it so suddenly in front of so many who admired Clayton would be perceived as nothing short of callous.
Clayton nodded and slunk out of the meeting chamber like the cur he was.
Rafe turned back to the other vampires, gratified to see more respect and humility in their gazes. Now they knew he meant business. “Back to the matter at hand. We all must work together to find Lenore. And we must see our city safe from intruders.”
He walked over to the large map of London on the far wall. “You will be assigned in groups of four. Each group will be responsible for patrolling a section of the city for signs of Lenore or rogue vampires. The smallest clues or anything that is slightly suspicious must be reported to me immediately.”
Pointing at the map with his jeweled walking stick, Rafe parceled out territories. “I want you all to travel in pairs at all times, and not only when you are patrolling. Until London is safe, no vampire should be out alone.”
There were some pained grumbles at that last edict, but Rafe remained firm. “I know many of you are perfectly capable of handling a rogue on your own, but some of you are not. I insist that we err on the side of caution.”
They bowed in assent. He surveyed the gathering for a long moment, assessing who appeared to be taking his command seriously and who was not. He was not surprised to see William leaning indolently against the back wall, whispering to another vampire. Rafe would deal with him next.
“You are all dismissed.” He lit a cigar and watched them file out of the chamber, waiting until the last was out before he cursed under his breath. He’d done all he could for now, but he couldn’t help but feel like everything was slipping from his control.
Rafe slowly blew out a cloud of smoke as he made his way up the stone stairs. Unfortunately, Clayton was right. In the eyes of his people, he was taking an unreasonable amount of time to decide Cassandra’s fate.
Yet it would be far worse for them to learn the truth: that he couldn’t Change her because he’d illegally done so with another. How they would scorn him if they knew about that hypocritical deed, especially since the one he Changed was a prominent figure in the mortal world—one of the main reasons why the Elders forbade Changing anyone without their approval. No matter that he’d been paying a debt of honor.
Rafe sighed. He’d been willing to Change the duchess’s friend, John Polidori, because he hadn’t anticipated ever having the desire to Change anyone else. Now he regretted the action even more than when he’d crippled himself by running out into the sun.
He’d give anything to take it back, to be able to make Cassandra truly his and see her safe from harm.
He slammed the door of the abandoned church. His shoulders slumped in defeat. No matter how badly he wished it, he couldn’t Change her…and there was no way in hell that he could bring himself to kill her.
Not after she’d worked her magic and made him whole again, not after learning her hopes and dreams, not after feeling her soft heat in his arms or tasting the sweetness of her kiss. Not after he’d spent the day beside her in bed, waiting until she fell asleep so he could touch her silken, burnished curls.
He crushed out his cigar. When had he become such a sentimental fool? One of his people had gone missing and he was quickly losing his authority over the rest, and all he could think about was that soon he would be in the company of the most intelligent, beautiful, and engaging woman he’d ever met. Soon her miracle-working hands would be upon his flesh, healing him and giving him pleasure of which he’d never dreamed.
Rafe hunted quickly and headed home the moment his hunger was sated. The sight of the Elizabethan mansion against the backdrop of moonlit fog often filled him with admiration…yet now he realized that Burnrath House would never feel like home. His hacienda in Spain and even his modest flat in the East End had provided more comfort.
Maybe he was not fit to be Lord of London. He’d certainly botched things badly enough. Unfortunately, this was his duty until Ian returned in fifty years. He’d sworn an oath to do everything in his power to protect the vampires of this city as well as to keep them in line.
William opened the door, not bothering to hide his utter lack of respect. “My lord,” he said sullenly.
Rafe bared his fangs. Speaking of keeping people in line… “William, you are relieved of your duties here. Pack your belongings and vacate the premises immediately.”
“B-but why, my lord?” William pleaded, immediately contrite.
“Your insolence proves you unsuitable for a position in my retinue.” And I suspect you and Clayton are up to something, he added silently.
William’s face reddened and his fists clenched. He opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it. Instead, he spun on his heel and stomped up the stairs. Rafe removed his coat and rang for Cassandra’s housekeeper. When Mrs. Smythe arrived, he ordered brandy.
“I want you to retire for the evening. I have dismissed William and I fear he is in quite the temper. I do not want him taking it out on an innocent bystander.”
Mrs. Smythe bobbed a curtsy. “Yes, Don Villar.” The naked gratitude in her eyes made him regret not sending William away sooner.
He took his brandy and settled into a plush chair by the fire. Moments later, the front door slammed and Rafe sighed in relief. William was gone.
“What was that all about?” Anthony poked his head in from the doorway to the drawing room.
Rafe raised his glass and poured another for his third-in-command. “I’ve dismissed William.”
Anthony grinned. “It’s about time you got rid of him, my lord, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“Yes, I had wanted to maintain a sense of stability by keeping on the duke’s hierarchy. Alas, that appears to have yielded the opposite result…present company excluded, of course.”
The vampire inclined his head. “Naturally.”
“At any rate, it seems I would do best to establish my own reign.” A great weight seemed to lift from his shoulders
as he spoke the words.
“I’ve wanted to tell you that for some time,” Anthony replied quietly.
Rafe raised a brow. “Why didn’t you?”
“Well, for one thing, I thought it wise to wait until you got your bearings and evaluated the circumstances for yourself. For another, you strike me as the sort who pays little heed to the opinions of others.”
“An apt assessment.” Rafe couldn’t hide his respect. “Perhaps you should have been interim Lord of London all along. Lord knows, I never wanted to rule.” The irony weighed heavily on his mind. He’d accepted his tío’s offer to be an immortal guardian over his family because he didn’t feel suited to the responsibilities as hidalgo of his village.
Anthony shook his head. “I don’t know about that. It takes more than a talent for assessing the characters of others to rule a people.”
“And what is your assessment of Lady Rosslyn?” Rafe blurted out without thinking.
The vampire remained silent as he took the seat opposite Rafe. Finally, he looked up, eyes intent. “You can’t kill her. She would be too much of an asset to our people. Imagine having our own doctor for our kind. She might be able to fix Mary’s leg.” He smiled. “And I think she’s completely smitten with you.”
Rafe doubted that, as much as the thought still made his chest tight. “Does your offer still stand to Change her?”
Anthony’s smile dimmed. “It would, if I had not grown so weakened donating blood for your surgeries. By the time I regain my strength, the deadline for the Elders’ decree will have passed.”
Rafe slammed his fist on the table. “Damn it! I should have had William open a vein before I dismissed him. At least then he could have been useful for once.”
“He wouldn’t have done it. He would have quit before lifting a finger to help anyone but himself.” Anthony shrugged. “Anyhow, Lady Rosslyn is preparing for your next surgery as we speak, so we had best get a move on.”
Rafe shook his head, stomach knotting with guilt. “I can’t allow you to give more blood and be weakened further.”
