by Tamsin Baker
“No, I don’t think so, Lady Osborne.”
The stupid and pompous woman lifted her chin a fraction.
“You may be too old to conceive a child now, but that doesn’t mean you should be alone for the rest of your life.”
Margaret clenched her teeth and forced a smile to her lips. Her tolerance for these women was little to none these days.
“Lady Osborne, I have no husband to curtail my spending whilst he spends all his money on his mistress. I will not give up my freedom for anything less than perfection now.”
She looked pointedly at Lady Teresa Osborne, a lady whose husband regularly spent all their money on frivolous activities.
“There’s no reason to be rude, Lady Tonnington.”
Margaret laughed and curtseyed.
“See you another time then, Lady Osborne.”
Margaret made her way over to the hostess and made her excuses. She had come to the afternoon tea because she needed a diversion from the dreary off Season winter months in London. Events were few and far between anyway, and now that it was cold and getting dark, she wanted to go home.
Her carriage was waiting for her by the time she had put on her pelisse, gloves, coat, and hat. Bloody winter clothes were a bother. Perhaps she should just stay home in front of the fire.
The coachman helped her into her closed carriage and laid a blanket across her lap.
She smiled at the thoughtful young man. He nodded and climbed up onto the top of the carriage.
Margaret looked out at the vacant streets and wondered about her choice to stay in London over the off Season, including Christmas. She should have gone back to the country estate as was the custom, but there had been too many memories there. Her invalid husband had died there, and she’d been severely unhappy for over a decade at that estate. For her, they were good enough reasons to stay in London.
The sun set low over the city, and Margaret tapped the roof. Now that she was on her way home, to a warm fire and fewer clothes, she didn’t want to be there either.
The same coachman who had helped her into the carriage stuck his head in a window.
“Yes, my lady?”
“I wish to continue driving around the city for a little longer. Will you be all right if we do?”
The young man smiled at her. “Of course, my lady.”
Margaret sat back and opened up the curtains on her carriage. She was restless and uncertain, two things she had never been. She didn’t know which way to face, which way to go. If her whole life felt pointless, how was she going to rectify it?
She opened the windows as far as they would go, welcoming the chill to awaken her further. She had been dead inside for so long, she needed to feel alive again.
Two men stood by the road, talking and laughing. Something about them called out to her. They turned as though they shared the same thought, and two pairs of eyes connected with hers at the same time.
Margaret gasped, her heart stopping in recognition of whatever the two men were to her.
She gasped again, patting her chest and falling forward slightly in gratitude as her heart began beating again. What was that? She had never felt anything like it.
Her doors flew open and shut just as quickly. The two men whom she had just seen by the road, now sat opposite her, inside her carriage.
Hell!
She moved as far away from them as possible and pressed her back against the seat. She was quivering with fear at the same time as she longed to reach out her hands to touch the two men. Or were they something else? They certainly looked human.
“Who are you?”
The two men looked at each other and turned to smile at her. The blonde on spoke first.
“I am Michael, and this is Nathaniel.”
She nodded, her ingrained manners forcing her to be polite despite the awkward situation. What were they doing inside her carriage? And how had they even managed it?
“Your name?” The dark haired one named Nathaniel asked her. His smooth voice caused warmth to pool between her legs, and her lower belly ached with need.
Margaret gasped at the foreign feelings the mere presence of these men caused in her body.
She had hated the bedding by her husband and had been very grateful when he had got sick and stopped pestering her. But Margaret wanted to wiggle in her seat from the heat flooding her belly for these two men.
There was something else there, too, deeper than the physical. She needed to feel them.
Margaret forced her mind to work and answer the question posed to her.
“Lady Margaret Tonnington.”
The men shared another glance, and she clenched her teeth. Margaret hated when people shared secrets or spoke through looks. She wouldn’t have it.
“Would you two stop doing that? At least have the decency to think aloud rather than sharing those strange looks.”
The two men stared at her for a moment. Then the blond one grinned, his beauty devastating her anger.
“I do apologise, my lady. Are you still married?”
The darker one clenched his fists in his lap, and Margaret had the strange vision of him pounding her dead husband in the face. It was a rather satisfying vision.
“I am a widow.”
Both men visibly relaxed, and she giggled. The noise was obscene and inappropriate, but Margaret couldn’t help it. Why would they be so happy to learn she was a widow?
Again the men smiled, looking pleased by her behaviour. The smile died on Margaret’s face as the implications of their behaviour occurred to her.
“What is wrong with you both?”
They laughed aloud this time, the dark haired one reaching out for her.
“You are so much more beautiful than I thought you would be.”
His fingers brushed her cheek, and she gasped, blushing crimson as she slid further away.
“Do not touch me.”
The dark haired one, Nathaniel, turned to Michael, the blond one.
“What should we do? Explain everything first?”
Michael shook his head avidly.
“No. We turn her now and explain later. We have eternity to make it up to her.”
The blond one moved to sit beside her, holding her neck at a strange angle, his teeth looking sharp and white in the dark.
Fear crept up her spine. Her connection, whatever it was, demanded she reach out for them, but her logical brain demanded she realize how much danger she was in.
“Please don’t hurt me.” She whispered, leaning into his caress despite her fear.
“Michael, do not do this now. If she is who we know her to be, we cannot force her.”
Michael groaned and bent forward, pressing his lips against her cheek. Heat spread along her face and jaw. Margaret’s eyes slid shut in pleasure.
“Nathaniel, she smells almost better than you do to me. You know she is the one. Why should we wait?”
Margaret shivered in fear and arousal. What were they talking about?
“Michael. Stop!”
She was released, and Margaret wrapped her arms around her body, suddenly cold. She didn’t know what these men wanted, and her reaction to them was disturbing her.
“You scared her.”
Nathaniel frowned and reached out his hand, rubbing her hand once before sliding back into his chair again. His hand left just as much heat as Michael’s touch had. How was that possible?
“We apologize.”
Margaret nodded and placed her hands in her lap again. Her fear had abated, and now she was just confused.
“What do you want from me?”
She knew that if they wanted to hurt her, rape her, she could do little to stop them. But they had no wish to harm her. She could feel it. True, she could also feel the violence roiling through them, especially the blonde one, but it wasn’t directed at her.
She felt wanted, revered in a strange way.
“We just wished to meet you, Lady Tonnington.” Nathaniel spoke again, his tone s
oothing and his face calm and pleasant.
She smiled reluctantly as an unknown force pushed her to share more with them. “Margaret.”
They exchanged another look, and she groaned. How many times did she have to say it?
“You’re doing it again!”
They turned back to her, looking contrite, and again Nathaniel spoke.
“We are pleased you shared your name. It suits you.”
She blushed, his compliment obvious.
The carriage slowed as it made its way up her driveway. Margaret couldn’t believe the regret that filtered through her. Should she invite them inside? Was she insane?
“We will leave you. But we will be back.”
Michael made a pained noise in his throat, but Nathaniel put a hand on his leg, stilling his movements.
“Are you all right, Michael?” she couldn’t help asking.
Michael looked away from her without smiling. Shocked and hurt by his rejection, she looked back at Nathaniel.
He smiled, though it looked forced. His brown eyes were not smiling with his mouth.
“Please forgive us. Michael does not wish to leave you, but we must. May we visit again tomorrow?”
She laughed aloud at that one. What a strange combination of polite passion they both were.
“Visit? This isn’t precisely a proper house call, gentlemen.”
They both visibly shivered at her words, and identical smiles spread across their faces.
“Tomorrow night?”
Pleasure spread through Margaret at the mention of seeing them again. She nodded before she could even think about her answer.
“Would you come for dinner?”
Michael groaned and slid forward on his chair, baring his rather pointed teeth. Nathaniel’s arm came up and pushed Michael back.
What was Nathaniel? Michael’s older, over-protective brother?
Nathaniel nodded his head at her.
“I apologize again. He is hungry now. We must go and will see you after dinner tomorrow night. Nine o’clock?”
She nodded, but she didn’t understand. Why was he looking at her as though she was food? Michael’s body shook with the restraint it took not to do what he wanted. And what was it that he desired?
Margaret shook her head at herself. Why did she feel so safe when she should feel terrified? But her instincts served her well, and she was riding them.
The carriage rocked to a stop, and she nodded again. “Yes, that time is perfect.”
The two men were looking at her intently, and all she did was glance out the window briefly at the footman as he opened the door. They were gone when she looked back.
She gasped, her body cooling instantly. Why hadn’t they stayed? She felt their loss as though someone she loved had died. Her chest was tight, and a tear pricked her eye.
How very strange.
“Are you all right, my lady?”
She wasn’t sure that she was.
Margaret gathered her scattered wits, put her hand in the footman’s, and stepped out of the carriage, into the cold night.
“I am fine. Thank you, Simon.”
She stared out into the night, feeling their presence nearby but unable to see them.
She raised her hand and waved, hoping they saw her, turned and walked inside. Her night consisted of dinner alone and then to bed. Exactly what she believed she had always wanted.
Turning to look out into the dark once more before entering her home, she smiled. She might be aching for them, but they had promised to return. That settled the internal flutter of fear inside of her that the idea of never seeing them again aroused.
They would be back.
****
“You fucking bastard!” Michael spat at Nathaniel, his thirst so high his fangs were extended and wouldn’t retract.
Nathaniel ignored him as they walked through the streets searching for someone to feed on. Michael knew that he needed blood, now. Anyone would do.
His skin was clammy, and his thirst burnt his throat. It felt like someone had set his oesophagus alight.
He and Nathaniel had been searching for a sweet smelling female for him to feed on when he had smelled Margaret. He had moved before he had decided he needed to follow her. Never had he smelled anyone like her, the magnetic pull, irresistible. Even with Nathaniel in the beginning, he had never felt anything like it.
Michael groaned and dug his fingernails into his hands. He couldn’t decide which emotion was stronger. To feed or fuck? Thanks to deprivation and the arrival of their mate, he needed both so badly.
They heard a woman scream and took off at a run. They found a dirty smelling gentleman forcing himself on a woman who looked like a whore in an alley. It was easy to see that she was not complying.
Nathaniel reached the woman at the same time as Michael grabbed the disgusting man.
Michael sank his fangs into the man’s throbbing artery, and sweet, lovely blood flowed into his starved body. He groaned and pulled the man closer, his cock hardening.
He drank and drank, his thirst unquenchable, and for once, Michael didn’t care. This man did not deserve to live.
Nathaniel stepped up behind him and gently but persistently pulled his head back.
Michael found a shred of humanity still left in his soul. So he disengaged, and the unconscious, but still alive, man slid to the ground. He looked around. The whore was gone. Nathaniel must have taken her back to the house she came from.
His thirst now quenched, his rock-hard cock now had priority. He looked at his mate. His beautiful, generous, far too controlled mate.
“I need you.”
Nathaniel laughed and stepped closer. He dropped his hand down to Michael’s cock and rubbed it hard.
Michael’s breath hissed out between his teeth, and his eyes slid closed. If his mate would just continue doing that, he would come in no time. But no, his mate had other ideas.
Nathaniel whispered into his ear. “I don’t want another alley-way fuck, my love. We have found our third. Let us go home and celebrate.”
Michael shook with his desire but forced it down. His lover was right, and they both deserved more than what his body had in mind.
He turned in Nathaniel’s arms and kissed him. He slid his tongue along Nathaniel’s and rubbed his body against Nathaniel’s hardening one.
“You are right. We are soon to be complete. Let’s go.”
Michael grabbed Nathaniel’s hand, and they ran home. Once there, they kissed and licked every inch of each other’s skin and took turns fucking each other.
They were insatiable, the nervous energy working through their systems in different ways. Michael wanted to go back to Margaret and claim her, turn her so that they could be together forever. But he also knew why Nathaniel wanted to wait, and a small part of him silently thanked his mate for being the reasonable one.
The both came several times before sunrise, finally collapsing due to sheer exhaustion and the bliss of knowing they had found their third.
Before Michael passed out that night he realised Nathaniel was right. Margaret needed to join them willingly. Fall in love with them. And that would mean they would have to woo her, God help us.
Chapter Three
Just after seven the following evening, Nathaniel dragged a reluctant Michael into the same brothel he always frequented. His mate needed to be completely under control when they met Margaret again.
She truly did smell like Heaven. Untold pleasure awaited them.
The Madame nodded at Nathaniel, and he headed towards the room he knew she left open for her “different” clientele. Michael followed close on his heels.
“What the hell are we doing here, Nathaniel? I need to see Margaret.”
Nathaniel clenched his jaw and groaned as his fangs extended over his bottom lip. The mere mention of Margaret’s name had his blood-lust surging to the forefront of his mind.
“I know you do. I feel it, too. But if we don’t feed before we see her, we wi
ll never be able to control ourselves.”
Michael grunted and threw himself into a nearby chair, the disgruntled picture of a thwarted child.
“We shouldn’t need to. I could turn her tonight and then spend the rest of eternity making her love us.”
Nathaniel rolled his eyes. He had already tried to explain to Michael what they needed to do. Michael wasn’t in total agreement. But what did he know about the emotional needs of others? He had spent five hundred years taking Nathaniel’s love and never returning it in a vocal sense. Nathaniel knew that Margaret would need everything, soft touches, loving words, and the actions. Between them, they could woo her and win her.
“Michael, we don’t want her turning spiteful and denying us. We know she is meant for us, but we have to convince her of that.”
“Oh, bull. I shouldn’t have to wait.” Michael jumped to his feet, as impatient as ever. He grabbed at the door handle to leave, and Nathaniel lost his temper. He moved in front of his mate and pushed him back with all the angry force he could master.
“Listen to me, you selfish bastard. I have stayed in London for almost my entire five hundred years. I didn’t go missing on the Continent for a century. You were the one who left Michael, not me. I have wanted her, needed her for as long as you have, and I will not let you fuck this up!”
Michael’s mouth fell open, and Nathaniel grunted as two whores walked into the room.
They were plain faced but clean enough and smelled decent.
“Now let’s get this over and done with so we can begin the rest of our lives.”
Michael’s blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears, before nodding and sitting down in his chair. Nathaniel’s relief was overwhelming. He had won.
“I’ll take the brunette.”
The brown haired whore sauntered towards Michael, and he looked her over with a very mild interest. She sat in his lap and tilted her head for him. He exposed his fangs and held her to him whilst he bit her, almost reluctantly.
Nathaniel had to laugh as he pulled the blonde into his arms and sank his teeth into her neck. He always preferred blondes.
****