“You wanted to stop the King of Hearts?” Connery asked.
“I wanted to…” A smile flicked across Jack’s face and I saw the old Jack for a moment. “I wanted to make him angry. I pissed him off some years ago and since then I’ve lived in his shadow. I knew he wanted to invade London and I thought that by finding the urn and keeping it, I could put a damper on his plans. He’d always be too afraid of the King of Nightmares to go through with the invasion.” Jack chuckled. “It would have been glorious. Plus,” he gave a dismissive gesture, “I’m fond enough of the city. I’d sooner it not fall to Hearts.”
Was there more altruism in Jack than he was prepared to admit? Perhaps not, but his selfish motives would have served us.
Connery’s mind seemed to be working the same way as mine. “You had the same basic goal as the resistance.”
“So it seems.”
“You could have talked to us. We wouldn’t be in this position now if you had talked to us.”
Jack shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps something else would have happened. I thought I had it all stitched up, but one Guard with an itchy trigger finger and; phoom! The little twists of fate.”
“You should have talked to us,” Connery repeated.
“The resistance aren’t really my type of people,” Jack replied, pulling a face. “Do-gooders seldom are. It’s my estimation that half the evil in the world is done by people trying to ‘do the right thing’. Show me a selfish bastard and I’ll show you someone who has done little harm. Little good, maybe, but little harm.”
“What a terrible way to see the world.”
“Look at it for a thousand years and then tell me what you see. If every member of the Spanish Inquisition had stayed at home to play with themselves rather than rooting out ‘sinners’…”
“By their definition of sin.”
Jack laughed. “And yours is better? It’s always by someone’s definition of sin, someone’s definition of good. I’d rather please myself. Or find some willing women to do it for me.”
“Is that what you’re going to do now?”
“Yes, I rather think it is,” smiled Jack, basking in Connery’s judgmental stare. “Milan is the city for a man with money to spend and no morals. If you can’t have love, then wallowing in depravity is a close second. Blood, women, and the music there is excellent.” His smile faded a little. “Plus, I’m out of his reach. Call me selfish but I prefer to keep my mind under my own control.”
Connery tried again. “But there’s a war going on here. And if we win it there’s going to be another one.”
“Well then; good news!” exclaimed Jack with fake jollity. “You’re not going to win it. The King of Nightmares is.”
“Maybe he wouldn’t if we had a powerful ally like…”
“No.” Jack dropped the word like a guillotine, cutting Connery dead, the older vampire exercising his dominance. “A powerful ally ‘like me’ is the last thing you want. He almost had me last time. I can’t rely on being so lucky again. If I go up against him and lose – which I would – then he will take my mind, and you will have a powerful vampire like me as an adversary. You’d have the King in his hole destroying your minds and me in your city destroying your bodies. If I came to help you then I would only make him stronger. I’ll be doing more for you in Milan.”
“More for yourself,” corrected Connery.
“That’s what smart people do,” Jack said. “I wouldn’t have tried to kill him the first time if I hadn’t been asked to do it by someone to whom I couldn’t say no. And all it got me was heartbreak. That’s what this’ll get you. You think she’ll live through this?” He pointed at me and I made sure I looked as asleep as possible.
“I think Ursula can live through most anything.”
“You’re kidding yourself.” Jack spread his hands to indicate the cavern. “You like it here? Not so bad, is it? I’m not staying long. Take it.”
“What?” Connery frowned.
“It could be yours. Why not? He won’t find you here. Let your idiot friends die fighting for a city that didn’t even exist the blink of an eye ago. You and your woman can live here. Turn her, and the two of you can live here forever.”
Connery met Jack’s extraordinary offer with an odd look in his eye. “You do care about Ursula, don’t you? In your own way.”
Jack recoiled from the suggestion, spitting a scoff of derision. But Connery was not to be put off.
“Does she look that much like Marianne?”
“They’re completely different people.”
“But she’s Marianne’s blood,” Connery pressed. “And you can’t help wanting to protect her. Tell me,” Connery shuffled closer, “she’s Marianne’s descendant – we all know that – but is she yours, as well?”
I held my breath as I waited for the answer. Was I descended from Jack? Was there very diluted vampire blood running in my veins?
“No,” came Jack’s final reply. “I wish she was.” He looked across at me. “It would be nice to think that what passed between Marianne and I had some lasting consequence, but no.” He stood. “I’m going to check on Bathsheba - she’s keeping watch. You should get some sleep if you still plan to leave in the morning.”
He left, and Connery lay down to sleep. I closed my eyes and let sleep, long-deferred, creep up on me.
With a gasp, I was wide awake again, feeling as if someone had poured cold water on my brain. I sat up with a jolt, looking across the room to where Jack stood, looking straight at me. Had he known I was awake all along? I did not know, but I now felt him in my mind once more, irresistible and forceful. But not unkind. As ever, the specific sensations defied description but I felt as if he had a gift for me.
Jack reached a hand out towards me, gently turning his wrist as if unlocking a door in my mind.
“Dream.”
Chapter 11
“We have to get out of here, Marianne,” said Jack, without putting me down.
So much had happened in the last few minutes that my mind was still reeling with it. My Jack, the man I had spent so much time dreaming about, the man I loved, the man to whose tender care I had gifted my virginity, was a vampire, an unholy creature of the night. He had also just saved my life, and still seemed to be dedicated to doing so.
I was hardly in a state to think clearly but right now my mind was saying; does an unholy creature of the night have to be all bad?
My father was still asleep in the carriage when Jack placed me carefully inside, next to him. “Are you comfortable, Marianne?”
“With what?” I asked.
Jack half-smiled and turned to my father. “Wake,” he said briskly.
My father’s eyes instantly opened. “Marianne? What are you doing here?”
“You find nothing odd in her being here,” Jack said.
“I find nothing odd in her being here.”
“Hold her. Keep her safe.”
My father put his arms about me protectively as Jack took up the reins. “I will keep you safe.”
“What have you done to him?” I asked. It was horrifying to realize that my father had been Jack’s puppet all this time.
“Nothing that cannot be undone,” replied Jack, as he wheeled the horses and carriage around. “I have merely made him suggestible.”
“Did you do that to me?” Had our night of passion been simply him controlling me?
Jack looked aghast as he turned around. “Never. And I never will.”
I believed him.
We raced out of the underground city as fast as the horses would allow. Back on the surface, Jack did not stop to return the carriage but drove on out of the gates.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I’m taking you home to pack.”
“Pack? Where are we going?”
Jack said nothing. For the first time since I had known him, Lord de Coeur looked unsure of himself. At that moment, I did not think that he knew where he planned to take me, just that we could
not stay here.
“What happened back there?” I asked, as we careered through the sleeping streets of London in the hours just before dawn.
Jack barked a laugh. “Where would you like me to begin?”
“At the beginning?”
“That would take a while.”
“I have the rest of my life.” The words were out of my mouth before I had had a chance to think about them, but I knew they were honest and true as soon as I had said them. They were what I was feeling, and how could that be wrong?
He was a vampire. He sucked blood from the living. But he was still my Jack. He had saved me and killed that hideous creature in the cave. I had little doubt of his love for me and no doubt of mine for him. What he was did not matter, and no matter what obstacles it put in our way, our love for each other would see us through them.
The look on Jack’s face told me that he had understood my words, though I was not sure what they had meant to him. Mixed in that expression was joy and wonder and such heartbreaking melancholy as I had never seen before.
“Jack?”
He pulled on the reins to slow the horses, seeming to come out of the brief trance into which my words had put him.
“No sense in rushing,” he murmured, half to himself. “It’s nearly dawn anyway. We’re not going anywhere till tonight.”
When we got home, my father helped me out of the carriage as Jack went around to the horses, placing his hands on their noses.
“Return.”
The horses ambled around in the road and began to trot back the way they had come. I had no doubt that they were heading back to the construction site.
Jack eyed the sky, greying with the coming dawn. “Let’s go inside.”
“Miss Christopher?” Chivers, our butler, greeted me with astonishment. “What is going on.”
“My Papa needs a rest, Chivers,” I said, taking charge.
“And this gentleman?” Chivers directed a supercilious look at Jack, whose clothes were torn, muddied and bloodied.
“This is Lord de Coeur.” It was impressive to see the speed with which Chivers snapped to attention. “He has been in a carriage accident. My father was with him, which is why he was delayed.”
“Should I send for a doctor, Miss?”
I looked to Jack but he shook his head. “It looks worse than it is – Chivers, was it? – I am already feeling better.”
He was looking better, too. Traces of pain and injury vanishing from him. I was sure that there had been a bloody scratch across his face, when we had left the cave, but now it was gone.
“Shall I make up a room for his Lordship, Miss?” asked Chivers.
I shook my head again, if I was in charge then I was in charge. “No, Chivers. His Lordship will be staying in my room.”
The color blanched from Chivers’ face. “Miss Christopher…”
“It is not open for discussion. We will take an early breakfast in my room in one hour. Please send up enough hot water for his Lordship to take a bath.”
Chivers stood with his mouth open for a little while, before closing it and bustling off to do as I had asked – and probably to set the servants’ rooms on fire with salacious gossip.
“Come on,” I said to Jack.
He paused a moment. “I’m not sure you’ve fully captured what’s going on here.”
“I’m sure I haven’t.”
“I am a vampire.” He bared his fangs.
“That much I had gathered.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“Are you going to bite me?”
“No.”
“Then no. Now come on, you need a bath.”
A pair of sleepy maids conveyed the hot water to my room to fill my hip bath. When they were gone, I helped Jack to undress. Each item of clothing he shed refreshed my memory of the body that lay beneath – the only man’s body I had ever known. There were fewer injuries than I had expected and Jack must have seen my frown.
“We heal quickly.”
My breath came short and fast as I watched Jack get into the water and sit down.
“Let me help.” Rolling up my sleeves, I washed his body, soaping him up and pouring the hot water over his smooth skin. Inevitably, my hand brushed against one particular part of his body that had made some very happy memories our one night together.
Perhaps the events of the night had emboldened me, perhaps they had made the world seem so unreal that this felt like one of the many dreams I had about this man. Perhaps I was just done dreaming and was determined to grab happiness while I could. Whatever the case, I grabbed, and Jack stirred in the water, sighing with pleasure as I began to stroke him.
Our eyes met, and I felt a wicked thrill at looking him in the face as I pleasured him beneath the water. My hand seemed tiny next to the thrusting, masculine organ around which I could not quite get my fingers. As his weapon grew harder and the heat of it increased, my manipulations became firmer, testing the strength of my man, my Jack, and finding it indomitable.
“You’ve had a hard night, too.” Jack spoke softly. “I think a hot bath would do you good.”
I only hesitated for a moment. Reluctantly letting go of his primed manhood, which had now surged up through the surface of the water, I stood to undress. Jack watched with narrowed eyes, and the pleasure he clearly took in my slowly revealed body gave me pleasure back again.
Once naked, I stepped into the bath, my back to Jack, seating myself between his legs. I could feel his sturdy shaft between us and I wriggled against it, hoping that I was still giving him pleasure. Locating the soap, Jack began to wash my body. He was slow and thorough, neglecting no part of me, determined not to be rushed, massaging the soap into my limbs then washing me clean. His hands were gentle but firm, easing the tension from my body but also arousing me with his touch.
I craned my head round and our lips met. As his tongue slid into my mouth, I felt the rest of the night slip away along with the rest of the world. Nothing existed outside of this room. In fact, right now, nothing existed outside of this bath tub. Continuing to kiss me with tender passion, Jack slipped his hand down my belly, into the water and between my legs. I writhed as he found my core, sending water spilling to the floor.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I whimpered as his fingers trespassed inside me.
“I’ve missed you more,” he whispered back.
I could feel his hot organ pressing against me, pounding with desire. But generous Jack was, for now, dedicated to my pleasure. With his left hand, he roamed about the contours of my wet body, stroking, caressing, squeezing and even pinching, seeking out every sensitive spot and bringing it to sharp arousal.
He stroked my thighs, massaged my buttocks and spent a great deal of time on my breasts, playing with them and tweaking the nipples into hardness. But it was his right hand that was the heated focus of my pleasure. He seemed to know my body so well, like a pianist who could sit down at any keyboard and play a tune.
One, two, three fingers delved inside me, stretching and exploring. Inside my pulsing tunnel, he found some secret spot to press that set my body jangling with unexpected pleasure. Then he would retreat to strum gently against the bundle of nerves that needed him so much, I thought my head might explode.
“Jack, Jack, I’m going to…”
“That’s it. You remember the word?” he growled.
“Orgasm.” I said it with breathy delight, but I was worried, too. “What if people hear us?”
“I hope they do,” replied Jack, his fingers working overtime now, making me cry out through clenched teeth.
“But…”
“Trust me; they won’t remember.”
I groaned as I surrendered to my orgasm, writhing in the little bath so my ass worked hard against his throbbing manhood. I could not quite believe that I was here, that this was happening, that any of this could be real. I had thought I would never see Jack again, let alone… this.
Afterwards, I lay back against my
generous lover, his fingers still stroking between my thighs.
“The water’s getting cold.”
Jack laughed. “And you ordered breakfast, don’t forget.”
We got out, dried each other, and put on dressing gowns just in time for the knock at the door.
“The breakfast you ordered, Miss.”
“Thank you, Chivers. I’ll take the tray.”
“But Miss…”
“Thank you, Chivers, truly. You can bring up our luncheon at one o’clock.”
I turned back to the room, kicking the door closed behind me. Jack took the tray from me and took it to a table by the window. The curtains were tightly closed but I could see the glow of daylight behind them.
“You can’t go out in daylight, is that right?”
He nodded, perhaps a little concerned that we were talking about his nature.
“The curtains will be open on the landing outside my room.”
“I see.”
“So,” I continued in what I hoped was a coquettish manner, “what we are saying is that you are quite trapped within my bedroom until sunset tonight?”
“That would seem to be the case,” acknowledged Jack, with a smile.
“Whatever shall we do?” I had read a book – one of those books I was not supposed to read, or even know about – in which the heroine had pleasured a gentleman with her foot whilst in a busy restaurant. I now slid my foot up Jack’s leg and was glad to feel him guiding me to my goal. It had started to droop but a little pressure soon restored its proud hardness and I continued to massage him with my toes as we talked.
“I did not know that your… people, ate normal food.”
Jack shrugged. “We can, though it has little effect on us nutritionally.”
“You drink blood?” We had to address it sooner or later, though I trembled to say it.
Jack saw my trepidation and tried to alleviate it. “Yes. But it does not have to mean killing. Nor does it have to be forced or violent. Some people – humans, like you – rather enjoy the process.”
“Really?”
“It is very intimate.” The way he said the word made a shiver go down my back and fired my desire for him anew.
The King of Clubs 3 Page 8