Bite at First Sight

by Brooklyn Ann

  Thankfully, it was time to switch once more. Her new partner was a sullen stranger, but a blessed relief from Clayton’s odious company. Imaginary worms crawled on her flesh where he had touched her.

  “You are overheated, my lady,” her new partner said severely. “It will be a pleasure to escort you outside for fresh air.”

  She opened her mouth to protest such forwardness, but then the man opened his mouth slightly so that she could glimpse his fangs. “Clayton cannot touch you here, no matter how much he may pretend otherwise.”

  Blinking in astonishment, she nodded and allowed him to lead her off the dance floor. Clayton glared at the vampire with such malice that she was reassured this was an ally. Her fear reduced, she followed him out the French doors.

  Once outside, the vampire frowned at her and shook his head. “Honestly, for a countess, you are shockingly inept at duplicity.”

  “And who are you?” she asked faintly.

  The vampire bowed. “I am Aldric Cadell, Viscount Thornton and Lord of Blackpool. I have come to assist with the war.”

  Cassandra curtsied. “Rafael and I are grateful for your assistance.”

  Rafe burst out the French doors, eyeing Blackpool suspiciously. “I would greatly appreciate it if you would inform me before absconding with my fiancée.”

  “I was not absconding with her,” Blackpool replied calmly. “I was rescuing her from Edmondson. Did you not notice his odious presence?”

  Rafe snarled. “I did. But I should have gotten her away from him. It is my duty to protect her.”

  “You couldn’t have left the dance without shaming yourself and her as well,” Blackpool retorted. “As your ally, it is my duty to provide aid when it is required.”

  Rafe rubbed his temples. “You are right. I apologize, and thank you for taking her away from our enemy.” He held out a hand and Blackpool shook it.

  Turning to Cassandra, Rafe’s amber gaze narrowed. “You look shaken, Querida. What did the hijo de puta say to you?”

  “He said the Elders will kill us both, and then he threatened to break my foot after I trod upon his.”

  His lips twitched. “You stepped on his foot?”

  She nodded. “Stomped on it, more like.”

  “I am reluctant to interrupt, but we are drawing an audience.” Blackpool inclined his head toward the door where several people were unabashedly peering at them through the glass.

  Rafe sighed and held out his arm to Cassandra. “I suppose we had better return to the crush. Shall we fetch you some punch?”

  The moment they returned to the party, Clayton intercepted them. “Do you honestly think hiding among these humans will keep you safe from me, Villar?”

  “To think myself safe from you, I would have to consider you to be a threat,” Rafe said mildly.

  Clayton’s eyes flared, but he closed his mouth as Lord Deveril arrived with the Duke of Wentworth. With a curt nod, Rafe dismissed Clayton to exchange pleasantries with their host.

  Two other strangers emerged to flank Clayton. The Lord of Blackpool glared at them and bent to whisper in her ear. “Clayton’s minions. At least three others wait outside.”

  “Will Anthony be all right?” A pang of worry gnawed at her heart. He was out there with the carriage.

  Blackpool nodded serenely. “He will be fine. They can’t do anything to jeopardize our secrecy among mortals. Besides, I’m certain Rafe has more of his own people stationed around this house.”

  The music stopped and footmen made their way through the ballroom carrying trays laden with glasses of champagne. When everyone had been served, the Duchess of Wentworth stepped forward and gestured for silence.

  Cassandra sucked in a breath, freezing where she stood. It was time.

  “As much as I regret interrupting the evening’s festivities, it gives me the utmost pleasure to be the first to announce an engagement!” Jane declared with a grin.

  Immediately, pleased gasps and speculative whispers echoed through the cavernous room. Clayton and his minions leaned against the wall, eyes heavy-lidded with boredom. Cassandra’s lips twitched. They wouldn’t be bored much longer.

  “Lady Cassandra Burton, Dowager Countess of Rosslyn, has accepted an offer from Don Rafael Villar!”

  Her blood turned to ice as all eyes swiveled in her direction, staring at her as if she were a new laboratory specimen. Rafe took her hand and she gripped it like a lifeline, forcing a bright smile. All she wanted was to tug him away from here and flee to the safety of Burnrath House.

  Applause broke out all around and many people who’d given her the cut before were now regarding her with friendly smiles, as though their previous hostility had never occurred. Plenty continued to give her sour glares, while others held expressions of profound relief. All looked positively rabid with curiosity, and within a matter of moments, an army of ladies would descend upon her for the inevitable interrogation.

  However, Clayton’s thunderstruck expression was so comical that her spirits lifted enough for her to gather her thoughts and recall the story Vincent and Rafe had worked out.

  As she was congratulated by the ladies of the ton, Vincent, Lydia, and Blackpool glared at Clayton and his companions with thinly veiled hostility. Cassandra’s senses reeled and she wondered once more how her life had taken such a turn to the incomprehensible.

  * * *

  Rafe couldn’t hold back a smile in the face of Clayton’s fury. The expression on his face nearly made the ordeal of this evening worthwhile.

  He watched as a group of matrons swept Cassandra away, clucking congratulations and questions like a brood of overanxious hens. She cast him a desperate look over the mass of jewels and furs. Rafe moved forward to rescue her, but Clayton blocked his path.

  “Do you believe that this ridiculous farce will save you and your pet countess?” his former second hissed through clenched teeth.

  “Why shouldn’t he?” Vincent stepped forward, looming over the other vampire with such a menacing air that he stepped back. “It saved me and mine.”

  Clayton bristled. “That was different. She was Changed.” His eyes narrowed on Rafe. “A feat that neither of you are capable of performing again for at least another century.”

  “That may well be.” Rafe shrugged. “Though at least I’ve repaired the damage I did to her reputation.”

  His rival stared in confusion. “Why in the hell would you care about that?”

  “It’s a matter of honor. Something a traitor like you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Honor won’t keep her alive,” Clayton sneered.

  “No, but I will.” Rafe turned on his heel and waded through the crush of females to take Cassandra’s arm for one last dance.

  Clayton’s mocking laughter echoed softly behind him. “Tomorrow when I am Lord of this city, she will be the first to taste my wrath.”

  Rafe slowly glanced back at him over Cassandra’s shoulder. “I’ll see you dead before I see you as Lord of any city.”

  Twenty-nine

  When they left the ball, Rafe felt Cassandra’s relief strongly indicated by her audible sigh. Despite her courage in facing Clayton, he could see that her hands continued to tremble. That made his words even more difficult when they reached Burnrath House.

  “We need to feed,” he told her when he assisted her from the carriage. “I think it best you stay here under guard. Anthony, Elizabeth, and Carlisle will remain with you since the Lord of Blackpool is to meet us here soon.”

  Cassandra’s eyes were wide with trepidation, yet she managed a tight smile. “I understand.”

  Anthony hopped down from his driver’s perch to unfasten the horses from the carriage. Elizabeth and Carlisle emerged from the shadows.

  “Do not worry, my lady.” Elizabeth drew a rapier from the sheath strapped to her hip. “We will protect you.”
<
br />   Cassandra nodded and allowed them to lead her into the house. Rafe rang for tea and coffee before pulling her into his arms and claiming her lips in a hungry, gentle kiss. “I will return quickly.”

  Once outside, Vincent eyed him with a smirk. “It is strange to see you play the gallant.”

  Lydia slapped her husband on the arm with her fan. “Oh, leave off. We have a meal to seek.” She frowned and looked down at her elaborate ball gown. “It will be difficult enough in this attire.”

  “Perhaps we may pay a call to your grandmother,” Rafe suggested.

  Lydia laughed. “Oh, that is tempting. However, I am hungry for blood, not vinegar.”

  In the end they feasted on a group of richly garbed aristocrats leaving another ball. Rafe was pleased that his meal was one of the two females who’d snubbed Cassandra on the street a month earlier.

  Rafe, Vincent, and Lydia returned from their hunt to find Blackpool’s retinue stationed outside Burnrath House with Anthony and Carlisle. Cassandra was talking with the Lord Vampire in the blue salon.

  Rafe’s fists clenched at his sides, and a surge of territorial protectiveness speared through him at the sight of her alone with the other vampire. Then he glimpsed Elizabeth sitting unobtrusively in a chair by the fireplace, watching over his woman. His hands relaxed.

  Blackpool looked up and met Rafe’s gaze, brown eyes solemn. “I gather you have not apprised the Elders of the situation with Lady Rosslyn yet?”

  Rafe shook his head. “I do not know what to tell them, and with the situation with Clayton—”

  “Precisely!” Blackpool drummed his fingers on the oak table. “Your first explanation of the delay should be the truth. That you have been handling a mutiny…unless you’ve already reported such.”

  Stomach writhing in discomfort, Rafe looked down to withdraw his cigar case, avoiding the vampire’s gaze. “I have not just yet. I wrote to Ian first, as is protocol since he is the true Lord of London. The Elders frown on being pestered about every little territorial squabble. A good Lord should be able to handle the matter on his own.”

  “Yes, they have been known to replace Lords who cannot manage their people without intervention.” Vincent poured a cup of coffee. “Has Ian replied?”

  Rafe lit his cigar. “No, and I hadn’t expected him to. He and his wife are traveling. It will take an eternity for my letter to catch up to him.”

  “What will you tell these Elders about my situation?” Cassandra spoke up suddenly.

  Rafe’s heart froze in terror at the inevitable. “I—”

  “For the time being, you must find a way to stall them.” Blackpool waved off a cloud of smoke. “Give them some pithy explanation for now, until Clayton is subdued.”

  “Agreed.” Vincent blew on his coffee to cool it. “Lady Rosslyn should not be put to death. It is no fault of hers that you were unable to vanquish her memory.”

  Elizabeth stood from her seat in the corner. “Furthermore, she healed Lord Villar. Such a vital talent should not go to waste!”

  “Indeed.” Blackpool folded his arms. “What she did with your arm was nothing short of a miracle.”

  Vincent nodded. “Which is why I shall write a petition outlining Lady Rosslyn’s skills and virtues and recommend that she be permitted to live until arrangements can be made to Change her.” He paused. “As I was under censure with the Elders the previous year, I believe more signatures would bring further weight to the testimony.”

  “I will sign!” Elizabeth declared vehemently.

  Lydia nodded and placed her hand on Cassandra’s. “You may rely upon my support.”

  “And I as well.” Blackpool leaned forward. “After all, who knows when I may need you to heal one of my people?”

  “Thank you, all of you.” Rafe watched Cassandra’s eyes fill with grateful tears at this fervent display of support. A lump formed in his throat at the sincere and much-needed aid from these vampires. “Elizabeth, please fetch a quill and parchment.”

  “What are we signing?” A deep, cheerful voice intruded.

  Gavin Drake, Baron of Darkwood and Lord Vampire of Rochester, sauntered into the room, trailed by a shamefaced Anthony.

  Vincent growled and moved closer to Lydia, while Blackpool smirked and Cassandra gave the newcomer a wary smile.

  Rafe’s new second spread his arms helplessly, still pale from giving blood for the surgeries. “I told him to wait, but he wouldn’t listen. Forgive me, my lord.”

  “That is quite all right, Anthony.” Rafe’s gaze remained fixed on the grinning Rochester. Despite the vampire’s belligerence, Rafe was relieved he had come. “Lord Darkwood, I am grateful for your presence.”

  Rochester bowed. “Thank me when you’ve won.” Turning to the other lord vampires, he inclined his head to each in turn. “Thornton, Deveril, it is a pleasure. Now, if you would care to enlighten me about the current situation, perhaps I may be of assistance.”

  Crushing out his cigar, Rafe outlined Clayton’s betrayal and gave Rochester a brief account of Cassandra’s imprisonment and the letter from the Elders.

  Rochester smiled at Cassandra, pretending he hadn’t yet noticed her. “Ah, so this is the little grave robber who started so much of the trouble.” Cassandra bristled at the appellation as he turned back to the others. “Tell me, is she worth the hassle?”

  Rafe raised his healed arm, flexing his fingers. “You tell me.”

  The Lord Vampire’s jaw dropped in comical astonishment. “She did that?”

  “I did,” Cassandra answered with a stern frown, making it clear that she resented being spoken of as if she were not present. Primly, she rose from her seat and moved to the settee.

  Rochester inclined his head respectfully before taking the seat she’d vacated. “I withdraw my doubts. I shall sign this petition as well. Now, as for the fact that you cannot Change her, yet you have not provided an explanation, I assume the reason must be something that will not aid your cause…”

  Rafe frowned and nodded, refusing to elaborate.

  “Do not look as if you want to chew my liver. I don’t see any reason for me to be privy to the details. Unfortunately, the Elders will feel otherwise. Now I am not suggesting you lie…” He paused, shook his head, and smiled. “On second thought, yes, I am.”

  Blackpool scoffed. “Such counsel from you does not surprise me in the slightest.”

  Vincent gave Rafe a level stare. “He has a point. Perhaps you could tell them you gave a great amount of your blood to heal an injured vampire.”

  “Actually, that was me,” Anthony remarked.

  Rafe nodded. “And you have my eternal gratitude for that.” He took the quill from Elizabeth. “I will do it, though if I am caught in the lie…” He didn’t finish the thought.

  After finishing his letter, Vincent took the quill and wrote out the petition for Cassandra’s life. Every vampire in the room signed. Once the envelopes were sealed, Rafe handed them to Anthony. “Tell Carlisle that he is to go to Amsterdam and place these directly in the Elders’ hands. With all of Clayton’s meddling, I can’t trust this with a runner.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Anthony took the envelopes and hurried out.

  Rochester leaned back in his seat. “Tell me, Villar, how many London vampires remain on your side?”

  “Fifty-three,” Rafe answered, appreciating the fact that this vampire didn’t waste time.

  “And how many did you bring?” Rochester asked the Lord of Blackpool.

  “Thirteen.”

  “Deveril?”

  “Fifteen.” Vincent smiled, looking pleased at having outnumbered the other vampire.

  Rochester nodded. “I have twelve at the ready, so we shall have quite the force.” He folded his arms. “How many does Clayton command?”

  Rafe looked to Elizabeth.

  She regarded th
e other Lord Vampires with cool confidence. “From what I’ve gathered, Clayton will have nearly as many London vampires behind him. He has also formed alliances with Grimsby, Farnborough, and Liverpool. Unfortunately, I’ve been unable to find out how many vampires each will bring.”

  Vincent shrugged. “Those are all small boroughs, thankfully. It seems as though we are fairly evenly matched.”

  Rafe lit another cigar as they launched into their battle plans. The discussion continued until nearly dawn.

  As Blackpool and Rochester took their leave and vowed to return at the arranged meeting place, Rafe couldn’t hold back his feeling of dread. They had done all they could, yet it didn’t seem like enough.

  Lydia seemed to sense his unrest. Before Vincent led her up the stairs, she placed her hand on Rafe’s. “It will be all right. You are much stronger than Clayton, and so are your friends.”

  Throat too tight to speak, he nodded.

  Once alone, Rafe stood and stretched, rubbing his aching neck. Cassandra dozed on the settee, looking like a wilted flower only far more ravishing. Reverently, he approached the slumbering healing goddess, marveling at how much she’d come to mean to him. He would give up his reign, even his life, for her.

  Rafe bent down and kissed her lush lips, overcome with the inescapable need to have her. As her eyelids fluttered open, he stared into her sea-green eyes and whispered a silent prayer. Please don’t let this be the last time.

  Thirty

  The three rogue vampires watched the messenger leave Burnrath House while glancing fitfully in all directions. Hamish bared his fangs in a savage grin. Clayton had been right. Villar was sending a letter to the Elders. Though they had failed to intercept Villar’s communications with his allies, they would succeed in seeing that this one would not reach its destination.

  Hamish looked to his comrades and placed a finger to his lips. The Lord of Blackpool’s retinue flanked the grounds of Villar’s manor, talking among themselves in low voices. The first messenger, an envoy from the Elders, had come and gone with her escort. The rogues had been powerless to stop that.