It wasn’t hard to figure out what he meant. “I was raped, wasn’t I?”
His eyes closed. “My only regret was that I was not there in time to stop it.”
I wondered if he meant to stop it now, cocking my head I was just about to ask him so, when he shook his.
“No, I cannot. Much as it pains me to admit it. It was that terrible act itself, Rose, that brought you into my life. I’d never have noticed you otherwise. I was otherwise engaged at the time, distracted as it were, your scream led me straight to you. And him.”
He snarled.
And for a second I saw his fangs drop, saw the rage twist his features from something coolly handsome into a devil crawled out of the pits of Hell itself. I dug my fingers into my shirt, he instantly noticed at the dark rage swiftly fled his dark eyes.
Grabbing my hand he gave my knuckles a firm kiss.
“You, I would never harm, Rose. But tomorrow when we go to the castle, I cannot say the same for the male. I killed him once already, but I’d be more than happy to do it again.”
“Oh my,” I said at his swift and easy admission of homicide. But it wasn’t terror that had my heart galloping a mile a minute in my chest. It was actually the thought that such a powerful male could still look so torn up by an act that’d happened so long ago.
Mistaking my words for fear, most likely, he stiffened and said, “You know who I am, Rose. Not all the stories told of me are untruths. There are dark deeds in my past. I cannot—”
I placed my fingers over his full mouth, quieting him. “You mistake me, dark prince. I am not afraid. Only awed that you still seem to care so much.”
His entire frame relaxed before him as he gently removed my hand from his mouth. “Of course, I care, my love.” His fingers gently stroked my cheekbone. “Of course, I do. You are my greatest treasure. I would do anything for you, trying to save you from this curse it’s taken everything from me, lubirea mea.”
He’d called me “my love” in his old tongue and again I was awed by my ability to understand a language that up until a few nights ago had literally been Greek to me. Which only further cemented the rightness of our actions.
Shaking his head, a look took him that I couldn’t quite decipher. But his body language was easy enough to understand. He stood, and held his hand out to me.
“I didn’t come to this cottage often because it really wasn’t designed to be more than a love nest and a terrible one at that. There is only one lumpy mattress available and not a big one. You can have it.”
I stood and walked alongside him. He’d wrapped his arm around my waist, guiding me down the hall toward the only room.
“Where will you sleep?”
I was in a strange world, and truthfully I wanted him with me.
“I thought perhaps in the sitting area we’d just been in.”
My brows rose. “No coffin here.”
His grin was instant and infectious. “You read too many books, dragā. Though, I’ll admit that some of us do like to live up to the hype. But most of us prefer our beds, same as you piteously weak humans. Far more comfortable than the floor.”
He tweaked my nose to let me know that he teased me and I rolled my eyes, but felt so happy that I was sure I must be floating on air.
He opened the door and I spied the bed. He was right, it was small. But big enough for two if they spooned. Big time.
Starting to drop my hand, I squeezed his tight. “Stay,” I said. “With me. Share my bed. I don’t move much and it would be a comfort to feel you with me.”
My words felt like an explosion of sound in the now deafening silence. It was so quiet I was sure I could have heard a mouse’s squeak if I listened hard enough.
A dark and knowing glint filled his eyes. “I…I would not wish to make you imagine that I orchestrated our circumstances to suit me, Rose. I really can sleep in the sitting room.”
I snorted. “I’m sure you’re devious and clever mind came to this conclusion a while ago. I’m not asking you to jump my bones, vampire.”
Though I wouldn’t have minded if he’d tried, come to that.
“Just sleep. You and I could both use it.”
Day was getting ready to creep along the horizon. But the cottage was plenty dark, testament that a vampire at least planned to stay here now and again. This place was cozy and safe and warm and maybe it was that that fed my need of him, but I didn’t really believe that. I was starting to remember. So much. The feeling of yearning. Of need and desire. The warmth of deep and bottomless love.
“I want you with me, Dracula, it’s as simple as that,” I admitted softly.
And with those words any resistance he’d had left vanished.
Tucking my hands into the curve of his body, he guided me toward the mattress on the floor. I toed off my shoes and figured I’d sleep in what I had on now.
He laid down first, and held his arms out for me.
With a sigh of deep and intense longing I went to him and settled into the crook of his arm. I was right, it wasn’t a big bed but it was big enough for us to spoon. Which didn’t bother me at all.
Without thought I kissed his bicep and snuggled my nose into the crook of his elbow, inhaling him. I felt his nose in my hair and knew that he scented me too.
“Gods, I missed this, my love. I missed you,” he whispered drowsily.
And with all the heat and combustibility between us, we both still managed to fall into a deep and healing sleep.
Thank goddess no one knew about his cottage apparently, because if we’d been found I wasn’t sure either one of us could have been roused. We slept as the dead. Together. And my last thought before I forget everything was that this would definitely not be a bad way to go.
The next night we were getting dressed. Neither of us had eaten a thing, but Dracula promised that I would have so much food at the ball I’d grow sick of it. I nodded, butterflies winged drunkenly through my belly. I was being eaten up by nerves and it showed as my fingers slipped on the buttons of my blouse once more.
Dracula was already dressed, all in black. Again. But this wasn’t clothing meant to be noticed in, he intended to fade into the scenery tonight and for some reason that thought really bothered me. I didn’t want to be without him. Though he promised I would never be out of his sight.
“Let me,” he murmured tenderly as he came to my side and then gently brushed my fingers aside.
With a huff, I dropped my hands and stood there feeling a little like a child as he dressed me. Though, I learned I did not mind the process all that much, especially when his fingers brushed along my collarbone, leaving a trail of heat and fire in his wake.
I was quite trembling when he’d finished with me.
“Are you sure I should stick with Aziria?” I asked him, my voice sounded deeper and scratchier than normal.
“Mm.” He nodded, before handing me a long silken black cravat.
I took it from his fingers and he lifted his chin. I knew that he meant for me to tie it on him. My stomach swirled all over again. All of this felt so very domesticated. And I was about to tell him that I had no bloody idea how to tie a cravat, except that suddenly I began to think I did.
Standing on the bed, because he was quite a bit taller than me, I reached over his head and made easy work of the thing. Amazed at how my body seemed to know more than I did sometimes.
“I always did prefer how you did it best,” he whispered intimately, “not too tight, not too loose.”
I grinned, feeling foolishly proud by his praise.
He kissed me.
Moving so quickly that I’d been shocked by it, but not offended. “What was that for?” I asked him once he’d pulled away.
He shook his head. “I worship you, Rose. And sometimes it’s hard to not touch you and hold you and love you as I wish to. Did it upset you?”
In answer, I dug my fingers into his shirt and tugged him toward me. Kissing him with all the pent-up and consuming passion in my he
art.
Tongues and teeth collided and we were both making guttural sounds and I swear but my knees just about gave out from under me. Except he was there to hold me steady. He was always there, I knew that now.
When I finally came up for air, I was proud to see that dazed look in his eyes.
“Did that bother you?” I asked him right back.
His answer was an inarticulate groan.
And I laughed, before gently shoving him in the shoulder.
Then taking up my wand, I whispered a quick incantation and brushed my power down my body. Now, should anyone look upon me they would not see my modern look, but an unremarkable lady of their time. I was dull, would be the best description. Unlikely to garner attention. Neither too pretty, nor too ugly. Wallpaper.
I glanced up at Dracula, nibbling on the corner of my lip, suddenly worrying that he’d think me ugly, or that he might be disappointed by my appearance.
But he looked proud and like a man still very much in love.
“It is your soul that calls to me, Rose. First as Evanora, and then all the others that followed. You are always beautiful to me.”
I trembled. “Goddess, I do not think it’s possible to find a more perfect male.”
He snorted. “Gods help us all if you should think me perfect. Far from it, my lady. And it is the oddest thing, but something about you feels so familiar to me.” He frowned.
I laughed. “You’re ridiculous, dark prince.”
He grinned. “Bah. I must be. Anyhow,” he rolled his wrist, “we must be off. The time draws nigh.”
Chapter 8
Rose
I felt his hot gaze on mine and knew without a doubt that I was not alone. He’d instructed me on where to stand and I did. Just inside the great dance hall, or whatever they’d call a massive room like this. There was such a crush of bodies within that I was actually surprised.
For some reason I’d thought there were far less people around in the middle ages, but I was wrong.
As a modern woman I was enthralled by the strangeness of this place. The unusual fashion trends. The women especially I found immensely interesting. A few wore make-up, but it was like nothing I knew to be make-up in the modern era.
Their faces were coated in a thick brushstroke of white. Not many though, and only those who looked like they were probably royalty of some sort.
Gah, I knew nothing of this time. Were they called royalty back then? Or… I guess now? Or were they just Lords and Ladies? Probably, that seemed more Arthurian.
The smells in here were really quite offensive to me though. A mixture of sweat, unwashed bodies, and freshly roasted foods. The mix of the three was stomach churning. I’d remedied that by fashioning a quick sniffer ball. Not sure what they’d called it, but now I knew why ancient pictures showed this as a common practice. It was just cheesecloth wrapped around dried sprigs of lavender. A necessity in this time, no doubt.
I took a deep breath of the herb, trying to relax as best I could.
Someone bumped into me from behind. I was resting on a column of stone that was just at the entrance of the hall and right beside the long hallway that would lead toward parts unknown.
I glanced over to my right and for just a moment suffered a dizzying shock.
A woman and a man stood beside me. It was the woman who’d bumped into me. She was a thin, willowy lady with a mane of fiery red curls that fell heavy to her waist and jeweled blue eyes. Skin the color of a summer peach and dressed in a frock of forest green that hung provocatively around her trim hips.
I knew this had to be Aziria for two reason. One, her witch’s flame called to mine. Like recognized like, because she was staring at me with her cat-like eyes and her lips pursed shrewdly. No doubt wondering at my own witch’s flame. Were witches common in this day?
Judging by her serpent-like study of me, I’d guess probably not.
But two, and most importantly Dracula stood beside her. Not my Dracula though. I’d thought at first that maybe, except there was a coldness to him. An aloof superiority that I did not recognize in my own.
This was a male not burdened by the toils of the world. One who was all-powerful and reveled in that power.
“Aziria,” he murmured in his cultured voice that still sent chills through me, “why have you brought me to this loathsome dance?”
“Food, my beast. Why else?” She grinned and gestured. But my skin crawled the instant I understood why she’d gestured toward the humans waltzing by and not the buffet laden down with succulent pig and all manner of ancient foodstuffs.
Tapping from the vein in my time was no longer practiced by any vampires. Not that I minded if anyone wished to oblige their mates by drinking straight from the vein, as long as the act was consensual, but once upon a time that had not been the case.
He murmured and then realizing that Aziria was still looking over at me, he finally turned my way.
I gasped, backing up on my heels. I wasn’t sure why I’d reacted as I had, surely he wouldn’t know me. Yet.
I didn’t even look like Evanora. I was entirely forgettable.
Except his eyes had now narrowed too. And his look was hot and hard and studious.
A moment of something passed between us. My soul trembled within me and a yearning I’d not expected to feel rose up in me.
The need to be back in his arms, to feel his warmth. His nearness. To feel him.
His mouth parted just slightly and for a wild moment it seemed as though he were moving in toward me too.
A look of something I could not decipher burned through his dark eyes. But then he was shaking his head. And the moment passed.
With a hard coughing grunt, he cleared his throat and glanced back down at Aziria. A look of fire had entered his eyes. “Come with me, witch,” he whispered loud enough for me to hear and I saw Aziria’s almost cruel smirk cut across her face, before she nodded and turned on her heel, headed back the same way they’d come in.
Less than a minute later I felt the press of a body move in close to mine.
“In all my years,” my Dracula murmured heatedly in my ears, “I never knew I’d met you before I met her.” His finger glided sensuously up the curve of my spine, breaking me out in a wash of goosebumps. “It was always you, Rose. Even before I understood myself. You’re the very reason why I pulled Aziria out into the night, because you made me wild. Made me hunger. Crave you. Even then.”
With a gasp I turned, but there was no one behind me any longer.
Clutching at my chest, I felt my heart beating so forcefully I was sure it would fly out of my chest.
I scanned the room for him, but all I found were faces I didn’t recognize.
Until I saw one that had my blood instantly running cold through my veins. Raven-haired with milky white skin and blood red lips. She was Snow White come to life. A look of pain flashed across her face and I realized that the man walking in front of her with rushed hurried steps was dragging her behind him.
“Make a scene, whore,” he snarled over his shoulder softly, “and I’ll tell ‘em all ye begged for it. Now come.”
“Malachi, no…no…no…din…din…dinnae do…do…do this.”
“Stuttering wench,” Malachi swore and only jerked her harder.
Evanora fought bravely, stopping and tugging, dragging her heels and trying without making a huge scene to stop him. But Malachi looked to be an enormous beast of brawn and fat, his hair was nothing but greasy black lanks and his skin sallow and pockmarked. He was an unattractive fellow at best, and at worse, a filthy whoreson.
But his clothes were rich and quality fabric.
This was clearly a Lord of the time.
I clenched my molars. Curling my fingers into tight balls that caused my nails to dig painfully into my palms.
Dracula had told me that this had to happen, but the injustice of rape, the pain of what this woman—me—would endure, I wanted to stop it.
I took a step toward them, following them
outside of the castle. Instantly I felt Dracula’s presence hovering just beside me.
“You must not do this, Rose. Painful as it is, it was this act alone that brought you into my life.”
I watched Malachi practically drag Evanora through the mud as he moved toward a thatched roof stable. The soft whickers of horses at rest were incongruous with the cries and grunts of Evanora.
I whimpered.
Dracula’s arms curled around me.
I trembled as I sobbed quietly, hearing her fate in my ears. Hating myself for doing nothing, yet knowing that if I did I would never have discovered the great love of my life.
He kissed the top of my head and began to speak to me, distracting my mind from the terrible sounds that were to sure to haunt me forever.
“Someday she will heal, in my arms. And I will heal in hers. Someday she and I will know the greatest love in the history of eternity. And someday I will wake up in a world that finally gives me hope for our future, darkness doesn’t stain forever, my Rose.”
“I love you,” I whispered the words that were far too soon to say and yet all too true.
“Oh, gods, Rose. My gods, I will always love you. Always have. And always will.”
Then I heard a roar, and this one was animalistic and full of fury. It was the other Dracula. He must have come across the scene.
And it was probably terrible to admit that I felt some satisfaction from knowing that Malachi’s smug, jowled face would never see another sunrise.
Then I heard soft crying and my male’s deep voice ask, “what is your name, female?”
“This was the beginning of us, wasn’t it?” I looked up at my male and his dark eyes shone with love even in the night.
His caress upon my cheek was so feather-light I almost couldn’t feel it, I closed my eyes and trembled in his strong arms. “The very moment, my dragā.”
There was a snap of twigs and when I opened my eyes, I was no longer in Dracula’s arms. He was gone again. In a daze I turned and there was Aziria, stalking out of the stables. Hair a mess and skirts rumpled. She and Dracula had clearly been interrupted.
Fangs and Stardust (Hidden Tales of Blue Moon Bay Book 3) Page 9
