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The King's Vampire

Page 9

by Brenda Stinnett


  “But you can’t, you wouldn’t.” Darius found himself sputtering for lack of words.

  “Do I look like such a fool? Of course I wouldn’t go back to him, but he’s very likely to make my life a misery. He says he’s come looking for me, but I don’t think that is but half the truth.”

  “I guess perhaps I overreacted.”

  “Perhaps you overreacted? You pulled me away from the palace like I was a misbehaving child. Thank God, Charles wasn’t around to see my humiliation.”

  His anger and jealousy flared back to the surface. Somehow, having emotions weren’t quite what he’d expected. “It’s still all about Charles, isn’t it? I’m trying to protect you, and yet, your biggest concern is what the king thinks.”

  “I’m doing what you asked of me. You said you wanted me to ingratiate myself to Charles, and when I do, you act like a crazy man.”

  “I swear, Elizabeth, I only want to protect you. Please believe me.”

  “If you want my help, then trust me. Stop trying to control me. Just because you’re now a demon slayer, doesn’t mean you have to be in charge of the whole world.”

  “You think I’m over-controlling simply because I take my responsibilities seriously? Do you want to see controlling, Elizabeth?”

  She gazed down at the floor and refused to answer.

  Darius drew her to his chest and planted a furious kiss on her lips. It was a deep, hard kiss, with his teeth gently nibbling her lower lip. Once the coach stopped in front of the Boar’s Head Inn, he lifted her in his arms and carried her inside, calmly ignoring the amazed stare of Beth, who was banking the fires for the evening.

  Chapter 9

  When Darius marched upstairs with Elizabeth in his arms, she felt his heart racing. Inside her bedroom, he placed her onto the feather mattress, before pulling the velvet draperies around the bed, engulfing them in a warm intimacy.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, watching while he undressed her gently, inspecting her pale skin while he stripped each article of clothing from her body. Squirming as her naked body became completely exposed to his scrutiny, Elizabeth’s heart pounded. He struggled to unfasten her busk, but he finally managed to release it.

  “Hush,” he said, when she started to protest, kissing the back of her neck before he continued undressing her.

  “We can’t do this,” she protested weakly, although every fiber of her being ached for him and a furious passion whipped through her veins. She wanted him to hold her forever—and if the truth be known—she wanted to be his forever. He peeled down her stockings and his strong hands stroked her thighs.

  She had the strangest sensation of being a child once again when his powerful hands caressed her body, although the heat of the desire he aroused in her was that of a total woman. Still, there was comfort in his gentle, methodical treatment. When he finished his task of undressing her, he placed her, now entirely naked, in the center of the great bed. She watched him peel out of his calf-high boots, pull off his breeches, and unfasten his hose, and slip off his white linen shirt.

  She stared in admiration at the sight of his bronzed, rippling torso. The black hair on his chest formed a ‘v’ and it tapered down to his satiny member that stiffened and throbbed. He pulled her to him, and her skin gleamed with sweat against his bronzed, naked body. She tried to pull away. “We can’t. I’m unclean and you’re a demon slayer.”

  He cupped her face in his powerful palms. “Hush, my darling. You’re not saying anything we want to hear.” His lips came down upon her lips, blotting out whatever else she might have said. The kiss was one of complete seduction that promised everything and gave even more.

  His slow caresses caused her body to tingle in a way she’d never felt before, and his large hands seemed to struggle to possess every point of her being. When he pressed her hands up over her head, the palms of his hands grazed her breasts, causing her nipples to rise and harden in excitement. His mouth came down upon one breast and then the other, nipping and suckling softly. If he continued, she thought she might faint from sheer pleasure.

  “Darius, we mustn’t do this,” she whispered even though she would have rather died than have him stop. She craved him and her body ached with desire. She wanted his lips, his body, and his soul plunged inside her.

  Her heart raced when he pushed her thighs apart and his fingers parted the folds of her warm, wet cleft. She drew in her breath when he leaned over her, bracing himself on his elbows as he gently, so gently, eased inside of her. He was thick, long, and hard, but she arched her back and clamped her legs around his waist so she could take him in more deeply. With each thrust he made, her body adjusted and absorbed him ever deeper.

  He moved faster and harder, and she responded to him, clenching tighter so she might feel every passionate thrust he made inside her. Now wild with pleasure, she cried out his name, hoping he would stop, then praying he’d never stop. When he’d carried her to the edge, and then beyond, she moaned and shuddered, her entire body quivering with the ecstasy of her release at the same moment his seed exploded inside her.

  At first, unwilling to face him, she kept her eyes closed, but then she couldn’t resist peeking at him as he continued to cover her face with worshipful kisses. She opened her eyes and stared into those slate gray eyes that flashed a flame of love in her direction.

  “Elizabeth, talk to me.”

  “What would you have me say, Your Lordship?” She turned her head away from him. She’d never responded to her own husband in that way before and she felt a sense of shame at her own boldness.

  “Anything,” he said. “Just tell me you don’t hate me for what we’ve done. And why are you calling me your lord?”

  “How could I hate you, Darius? It’s you who should hate me. You now have a timeless soul, where I’m still a soulless wanderer who must drink the blood of the living in order to exist. I don’t deserve your love. You are much more than human—while I’m something much less. What we did was an abomination against heaven and earth.”

  “Never say such a thing. Never even think such a thing. You are my love, my life, my soul. If you stay an immortal vampire forever, I’ll never stop loving you. Our love can never be a sin. Rest now, my dear.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then her jaw, then her neck. “Daylight’s come.”

  She struggled against her sense of guilt. She wanted to believe him. She ached to believe their destinies were intertwined, and nothing could keep them apart. But then, she felt the unholy pull of the bloodlust. She felt her teeth becoming sharper and longer.

  To distract herself, she sat up and pulled the comforter to her breast. “Tell me more about how the sun feels on your skin. Does it burn? Does it hurt your eyes?”

  He looked down at her with an expression that seemed to question whether he should lie to her, or speak the truth. At last, he said, “Its warmth is like honey poured all over my skin and the brightness of the sun makes me feel like I can see all the way to forever. The light is brighter than the candlelight on a thousand prisms of a chandelier. You’ll feel it and see it again one day. I swear it. All is not lost. Remember, you still have until Christmas to regain your soul.”

  Once he’d left her alone, she sank back down into the depths of the feather bed. “How am I to do that?” she said aloud, only there was no one to answer her.

  She fought back the bloodlust and fell into an exhausted sleep, but at one point, she awoke to the sound of growling. She felt hot, panting breath surrounding her. Not daring to move, slowly, she opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by a pack of huge, snarling gray wolves.

  They crept closer to her face with their drooling fangs, locking their yellow eyes onto her own. Their breath smelled of an indiscriminate diet, and their fur was matted. The wolves’ sharp claws worried her, especially since she felt them digging in closer to her naked body.

  Unable to bear lying there any longer, she sat up and snatched the comforter around her, causing the wolves to snap at he
r throat. She thralled one wolf, and then swatted at one with a bed-warming pan, causing him to fly across the room, hitting the wall with a solid thump. The others backed a little bit further away from her. “Julian!” she screamed. “Get these mangy wolves away from me this instant.”

  An icy blast of air entered the room, and she heard the gurgling of his breath before she saw him. The hackles rose on the wolves, and they dashed to the window, leaping out with final howls of protest.

  The comforter still pulled to her throat, Elizabeth jumped out of bed and dashed behind an Oriental dressing screen, tossing on her petticoats and a taffeta dressing gown. When she stepped out from the screen, Julian sat perched on a sofa, his mummified body going into and out of form.

  “Stay in solid form,” she commanded him. Surprised, she found he obeyed her and remained in his putrid, rotting skin. Unable to stand his stench, she rushed to the dressing table and saturated the room and herself with tuberose perfume.

  “I’ve just had the pleasure of meeting your husband, Sir Michael Horbury.” His voice sounded like a thousand claws on a slate roof.

  “The pleasure was all yours, I’m sure.”

  Even though he was six feet away from her, he reached out with a speed she couldn’t fathom and gripped her shoulder with his leathery hand. “He misses the sanctity of your marriage. He wants you back very much. He’s even willing to . . .”

  When he stopped, she said, “What? Go ahead and say whatever you were going to say.”

  Julian gave a blood-clotted laugh. “I hate to create discord between a loving, married couple, but Michael plans to kidnap you if that’s the only way he can take you back to Prague.”

  Elizabeth shrank away from Julian’s deathly cold touch, and pushed his hand off her shoulder before she sat down at her dressing table. Forcing her hands not to tremble, she ran the brush through her hair, twisted her hair into a scroll in the back, and put bodkins in before plumping up the auburn curls that fell to her shoulders.

  Recalling how her husband had accused her of becoming a vampire because of her vanity, she slammed the silver-backed brush down on the marble table and turned away from the mirror. Of course she knew what he’d said wasn’t true.

  “I’m not afraid. Michael wouldn’t dare touch me.” Her eyes met those dreadful eye sockets of the demon, those windowless pits of hell. She refused to avert her gaze.

  “Do you imagine the king or Darius can protect you?”

  “I don’t need to depend on either of them because I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

  He wheezed and rasped his horrible laugh for a full minute. “I do admire your courage, no matter how unwarranted.”

  She didn’t see him move, but now he stood behind her, leaning over her right shoulder. “If you’re moving into apartments at Whitehall, we could work together. I would protect you from Michael, and you could help me with my influence over the king.”

  “Why would I ever trust a demon?”

  “And why would you trust an immortal vampire? Do you really believe what Darius tells you? Do you think he’s truly capable of love? His greatest devotion is to himself and the power he can acquire. How do you suppose he became demon slayer? He’s mad for power, and he’ll do anything to gain control over King Charles’s court. He’ll use you as the king’s whore, or anyone else to achieve his goals. Demon slayers have no need of emotions or honor.”

  That thought had already crossed her mind, yet his putting doubts in her mind infuriated her. “Get out, Julian.” She threw her silver mirror in his direction. Without being aware of how it happened, she was flung on the floor and the weight of the demon pressed down on her chest. She felt him trying to suck the energy from her body, but she focused on her own white energy and raised her arms, pressing against his skeletal chest until he shot away from her.

  He reared back. “Your strength is increasing. Are you learning from your demon slayer? I give you a word of fair warning. Never dare use force against me again. If you do, I’ll make you sorry.

  She leapt up and grabbed a decorative dagger from an ebony statue of a warrior that stood in the corner. She leaned forward and made a slicing motion through one of his wings.

  He roared in pain. When she started to rip into him again, he formed into a gel-like substance and disappeared through the wall.

  Coward, she thought, staring at the wall where he’d disappeared. She dropped the dagger to the floor and collapsed onto her bed, wondering why her powers were growing stronger. Nervous exhaustion wouldn’t let her sleep, so her mind drifted back into the past.

  She remembered a time when she’d just turned sixteen. Her mother had entered her bedchamber with an apologetic look on her face. “Your father has given your hand in marriage to Sir Michael Horbury.”

  Elizabeth had been sitting at her dressing table, trying to tame her wildly curling hair. She set the brush down. “Why, Mother? Why must I marry him?”

  “Being the second-born daughter, your father was so very afraid . . .”

  She’d never forget the way her mother looked away, as though ashamed. Then she looked in the mirror and saw what her mother must see, a thin, young woman not much taller than a child with wild russet hair and strange purple eyes.

  “He doesn’t think I’m good enough to find a husband of my own.”

  Her mother’s eyes had darkened and she looked down, as though frightened no one would want to marry her daughter. Elizabeth decided to agree to the marriage and make everyone else happy. She forced those unhappy memories from her mind and came back to the present.

  She changed from her dressing gown into a lilac dress with a scooped neckline and ribbons laced through the bodice. She put on white stockings and stuck her feet into a pair of square-toed shoes. While she dressed, her mind raced. Would Darius lie to her for his own selfish purposes? He must know she’d never make Charles an immortal vampire. But how could she doubt him after the way he’d made love to her? She shook her head. It was Julian who had placed these doubts in her mind. She trusted Darius completely. Why shouldn’t she?

  Chapter 10

  When darkness came, Elizabeth wandered down a little alley where many buildings hadn’t been rebuilt from the fire, with scaffolding everywhere. The stone buildings glistened from the misting rain, and she shivered when the bone-chilling wind blew down the alleyway. She heard her own footsteps echo on the cobblestones. Since there were fewer establishments completely rebuilt here, fewer people were around to take any notice of her.

  A great thirst and hunger threatened to overwhelm her. She passed by a human couple and bowed her head. The scent of their sweetly savory skin made her teeth elongate slightly. This was wrong. This was evil. She’d sworn never to take the blood of a human being, so why had this passion arisen? Had she let down her barriers when she’d made love with Darius? Had her wanton behavior led her to becoming a creature of her animal desires? Was she growing closer to the darkness?

  Damn Darius! She should never have allowed him to become a part of her the way she’d done. With such distraction, how would she ever regain her soul? Beyond her mindless craving, a raging loneliness swept over her she’d never experienced before, and it had nothing to do with a lust for blood. She felt a sense of emptiness at the thought of living alone like this forever.

  A pitiful whine brought her back to the present. She looked beneath the scaffolding of a burnt-out alehouse, and two black eyes peered out at her and a little black nose sniffed at her skirts. A floppy-eared dog with wiry, grayish-black hair stood up on two legs and whined again.

  “Oh do go away, you little mongrel. I’m starving right now, and I don’t wish to feed on you because you really are quite pathetic looking.” He was the oddest looking little dog she’d ever seen. His long hair was black and gray, but he had a reddish beard beneath his chin. He was long, yet stocky, and had short stubby legs. He was quite comical looking, with a feathery black and gray tail that wagged eagerly.

  He gave a yip and
dropped back on all fours, but he wouldn’t leave. “All right you mangy beast, you asked for it.” She lifted him up, and her teeth elongated again. She brought him up to her lips and bit down on his neck. He yelped and gave a little shudder when his warm blood poured down her throat.

  After she felt satiated, she set the dog down on the cobblestones, but her mouth dropped open and she swore when he staggered a bit before going back up on his hind legs, as though begging for a bone. “You little wretch, you didn’t die. Please don’t tell me I’ve made a vampire dog.”

  The dog looked at her with his knowing black eyes, and he barked once more. Shrugging, she scooped him up in her cloak. “I suppose I’ll just have to take you with me, you little devil.” Seeming to seal the deal, the dog licked her face.

  On Fleet Street, she noticed a crowd heading into the George and Dragon. She stopped and peered inside the window. She spotted Darius at the front of the group who were seated around the wooden table. It must be another meeting of the vampires and it looked like an important one.

  She slipped in with her hood up and her mask on, hoping she might hear what they were saying without being recognized. The little ferret-faced vampire with the cruel eyes stood. “We’ve noticed you’ve acquired a bit of color, eh, Lord Mayor. What’s going on?”

  “Godfrey, that’s why I’ve called this meeting,” Darius said. “I want to explain that I’ve become a demon slayer. This will give us far more advantage in defeating the psychic vampire demons.”

  “Your Lordship, meaning no disrespect, but why should we follow you when you’re not even one of us anymore?” After Godfrey spoke, the rest of the vampires chimed in with their own opinions.

  The tall, exceedingly thin vampire with jet-black hair rose. “Godfrey is right. We see no point in depriving ourselves of human blood any longer, since it’s apparent you’re no longer an immortal vampire.”

  Darius lifted one large hand, palm faced outward. “Gentlemen, and ladies,” he said, bowing to the handful of female vampires in the room. “I understand you might not want me as Lord Mayor of the vampires any longer because of my unexpected form change. That is why I wish to suggest that John Ashley, the Duke of Denham, become Lord Mayor.” He nodded in his friend’s direction, and the Duke gave an elegant bow of his head.

 

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