Bound by Night

by Amanda Ashley

  “No.” Elena shook her head. “No. I don’t want it.”

  “You can dispose of his holdings in any way you wish,” Mr. Balescu said. “But first you need to sign these papers.” He pushed them across the table toward her, and offered her a pen. “There’s also a small savings account.”

  Elena read the papers over carefully, asking questions when there was a clause she didn’t fully understand, then signed where the lawyer indicated.

  Mr. Balescu tucked the papers into his briefcase and closed it with a flourish. “If you have any questions, please, do not hesitate to call. It will take a few weeks to transfer the title on the house into your name.”

  “Thank you.”

  Rising, he sketched a bow.

  When she started to get up, he waved her off. “I can see myself out. Good day to you, Miss Knightsbridge.”

  Elena stared after the lawyer, then looked down at the cat. “I never expected that.”

  The cat rubbed his head against her thigh.

  “I’ll sell the house,” she said, thinking out loud. “And whatever else he has. If I donate it to the asylum, maybe they’ll make his life easier.”

  With a hiss that could only be disapproval, the cat jumped off the sofa and ran up the stairs.

  Elena blew out a sigh of exasperation, then followed the cat.

  She found Drake waiting for her in bed, the sheet pooled in his lap.

  “You think I’m wrong?” she asked. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she kicked off her shoes.

  He shook his head. “I am only amazed at your kindness.”

  “What kindness?”

  “Mortals are strange creatures. Dinescu would have killed you without a qualm. You wanted him to be punished. You testified against him and now, when he has been sent to the worst hellhole in the country, you want to do what you can to make his life more comfortable.” He shook his head. “My people are not so kind. Any one of us who did what your uncle did would have been destroyed, and that would have been the end of it.”

  “I guess I wouldn’t make a very good vampire.”

  “No,” Drake agreed, pulling her toward him, so that her back rested against his chest. “But you make a perfect wife.”

  “What will happen when you don’t go back to the Fortress? You aren’t going back, are you?”

  “I am afraid we must. It is the only way to continue this charade. The only way for Andrei and Katiya to be together.”

  “What if Rodin finds out what you’ve done?” She had asked him that before, and he had said, That, I cannot predict.

  Today, he said, “I will appeal to Liliana for mercy for you and for Katiya.”

  Elena looked over her shoulder, her gaze searching his face. “What will he do to you?” Remembering how Rodin had punished Drake before, she hated to ask, but she had to know.

  He thought about it a moment before replying. “I do not know. I promised I would marry Katiya. I promised that she would conceive a child, and that I would put her happiness before my own. I have kept those promises,” he said with a wry grin. “I married her. She is with child, and she is happy.”

  “Maybe that will mollify Rodin,” Elena said hopefully.

  “Maybe,” Drake replied. But it was doubtful. Forgiveness was not one of Rodin’s virtues.

  “What will happen to your brother?”

  “I do not know. Andrei’s mother is currently out of favor with Rodin.”

  “You don’t have the same mother?”

  “No.” He ran his fingertips along her arm, then lifted her sweater over her head and tossed it aside. Her bra and jeans followed. “Let us not worry about the future now,” he said, his voice a low purr. “I can think of better ways to spend the afternoon.”

  “Shouldn’t you be resting?” she asked primly.

  “Later. Right now, I need you here, in my bed, in my arms.”

  “And what will we do in your bed?”

  His laughter filled the room. “Exactly what you are thinking, wife,” he said as he pulled her under the covers and showered her with kisses.

  Chapter 26

  The day after Elena received the title to her uncle’s house, she drove down the hill for one last look. Walking from room to room, she tried to remember the happy times she had spent in this house, but they were few and far between, and had ended abruptly when her Aunt Catalena had passed away.

  Elena spent a few minutes in her old bedroom. She didn’t have much in the way of belongings—her clothes, a dozen or so CDs, a handful of old school books, a few knickknacks, a couple of movie posters. Seven years of her life, she thought, glancing around, and the only thing she wanted to keep was the music box her aunt had given her one Christmas. It was a lovely thing, white with pale pink flowers painted around the edge. When she lifted the lid, a tiny blond ballerina wearing a fluffy pink tutu twirled round and round.

  Carrying the music box into the kitchen, she placed it on the table with the other items she wanted to keep—her Aunt Catalena’s Bible, the silver candlesticks her mother and father had given Catalena as a wedding gift, her aunt’s favorite teapot, a gold crucifix on a chain that had belonged to Jenica.

  Sad, Elena thought as she placed the items in a box and stowed them in the back of the Porsche, that there were so few happy memories from her childhood.

  The next day, she put the house and all its contents—including Dinescu’s clothes and her own, the furniture and appliances—up for sale. After meeting with the Realtor, she drove away from the house and didn’t look back.

  Later that afternoon, she called Mr. Balescu and informed him that the money from the savings account, as well as the net proceeds from the sale of the house, were to be sent to Borsa Castle to be used for her uncle’s care.

  Done and done, she thought as she ended the call. She had no ties left to her uncle. She had done her best by him, which was more than he deserved, and now, at last, it was over.

  The next few weeks passed peacefully and life at Wolfram Castle settled into a pleasant routine. They had electricity now. It was such a pleasure, Elena sometimes went from room to room flicking the lights on and off, just because she could. She spent her days caring for the house. There was plenty to keep her busy—clothes to wash, furniture to dust, floors to vacuum and sweep. Having music playing in the background made the chores seem less like work. She rarely went into the garden, although she did plant a chestnut tree in the place where she had discovered her cousin’s body.

  And when she got lonely during the day, the cat was there. Somehow, he always knew when she needed company.

  “When do you sleep?” she asked Drake one night. “During the day, you’re here in your cat form, and at night, you’re Drake.”

  “You forget how much the cat sleeps,” he replied with an easy grin. “I love those catnaps. And I sleep at night, when you do.”

  As time went on, Elena grew increasingly fond of Andrei and Katiya. They were very much in love, anyone could see that, and excited at the prospect of becoming parents. If it weren’t for the fact that the other people in the house slept by day and didn’t eat, she might have forgotten they were vampires.

  Some nights, the four of them played cards. Some nights they played chess, a game that Drake invariably won. Other nights they walked in the moonlight or went swimming in the lake, or spent a quiet evening at home, reading. They often watched movies until the wee hours of the morning.

  Elena’s favorite way to pass the night was dancing with Drake. She loved being close to him, reveled in the sense of wonder she felt whenever he was near, the way he looked at her, his dark eyes filled with love and longing. And a distant sadness she often saw reflected in her own eyes when she looked in the mirror.

  She tried not to think of the future, of the time when Drake and Katiya would have to return to the Fortress, but it was always there, in the back of her mind, a nagging worry that Rodin would somehow discover the truth, that he would torture Drake again, or worse, execute him.


  It seemed the harder she tried not to think about the future, the more often it popped into her mind, and when she was successful at keeping her worries at bay during the daylight hours, they turned her dreams into nightmares. Nightmares that became increasingly more real, more vivid.

  In her dreams, Drake was again locked in the tower. Only this time there was no reprieve and Rodin left him there, to be slowly burned alive, until nothing remained of the man she loved but a pile of gray ashes. Night after night, she woke screaming or in tears.

  And then, all too soon, the night she had been dreading arrived.

  Elena and Drake were sitting in front of the fire, taking turns reading Wuthering Heights aloud, when Stefan appeared. One look at his face, and Elena knew he had brought bad news.

  “You are needed at the Fortress, immediately,” Stefan said. “Gerret has challenged Rodin for leadership of the Coven.”

  “Gerret!” Drake exclaimed, rising. Gerret was the Master of the Irish Fortress. “I do not believe it.”

  “It is true, nevertheless. Liliana sent me to bring you back.”

  Drake swore. If his mother wanted him home, she must be apprehensive about the outcome of the battle. He could understand that. If Rodin lost, she would have to leave the Fortress, as would all the vampires who lived there. As for the sheep, they would become prey for Gerret and his Coven. He doubted Liliana cared one way or the other what happened to the sheep, but she considered the Fortress home.

  “What brought this on?” Drake asked. “Gerret has never shown any interest in acquiring more land or more power.”

  Stefan shrugged. “Who can say? The meet is set for the day after tomorrow at midnight. Gerret’s second-in-command is already at the Fortress. Rodin has named you as his second.”

  Drake uttered a short, pithy oath.

  “What shall I tell him?”

  Andrei materialized in the room and took his place beside Drake. “I do not like this. I smell treachery.”

  Drake nodded.

  Elena’s gaze darted from one man to the other. “What kind of treachery?”

  Andrei shook his head. “Something is off. Gerret has never expressed any interest in expanding his holdings.” He looked at Stefan. “Who did he send as his second?”

  “Florin.”

  Andrei and Stefan exchanged glances.

  “What?” Drake asked sharply.

  “If you spent more time at the Fortress, you would know what is going on,” Stefan said, a faint note of accusation in his tone. “This is not about territory. It is about revenge.”

  “What kind of revenge?” Elena asked.

  “Florin is the son of Rodin’s fourth wife, Nadiya Korzha,” Andrei explained. “He got into a fight with Olaf over one of the sheep and Rodin banished Florin from the Fortress. Nadiya has never forgiven him for that. Gerret took Florin under his wing. Florin does not care who wins the upcoming battle. All he wants is a way into the Fortress. If Gerret destroys Rodin, so much the better. As far as I can tell, Florin’s only interest is in avenging himself on Olaf.”

  “Which will cause more tension between Liliana and Nadiya,” Stefan remarked.

  Drake raked his fingers through his hair. “All this because of one of the sheep?” he muttered irritably.

  “There is more to it than that,” Stefan said. “Rodin gave the sheep to Olaf. Rather than stay with him, she killed herself. It is said that Florin was in love with the girl.”

  “In love?” Drake exclaimed. “With one of the sheep?”

  “Like I said, if you spent more time at the Fortress, you would know what is going on. Many of the younger ones are not happy with our current laws. Our young men and women do not like being told who to marry.”

  “I can understand that,” Drake muttered.

  “Our men and women often want more from the sheep than nourishment.”

  Drake swore under his breath. “Why tell me all this? It is Rodin who should hear your complaints, not me.”

  “He will not listen.”

  “Back to the matter at hand,” Drake said, glancing at his brothers. “Who else knows about Florin’s plan for revenge ?”

  Stefan shook his head. “No one.”

  Drake glared at Stefan. “And you left Olaf there, with no one to protect his back?”

  “I told Ciprian that I did not trust Florin and ordered him to shadow the intruder’s every move until I return.”

  Drake nodded. Ciprian was another of his half brothers.

  “Something troubles you,” Stefan said.

  “Florin is not the type to risk his life over a woman.”

  Stefan frowned thoughtfully. “You think he intends to challenge Rodin for banishing him from the Fortress?”

  “Florin has no chance in battle against Gerret and even less against Rodin, but if Gerret should win, Florin would again have access to the Fortress. Gerret might even put him in charge of the Fortress and its people.” Drake shook his head. The odds of Florin besting either Gerret or Rodin in battle were slim to none.

  “Stefan, stay here with Elena. Andrei, you and Katiya will come with me.”

  “Wait a minute!” Elena said. “I’m going with you.”

  “No.”

  “Yes!”

  “Elena, be reasonable,” Drake said. “I cannot take you to the Fortress with me.”

  She bit back her protest. He was right, of course. If Rodin saw her with Drake, it would give rise to questions they dared not answer. But how could she stay here? “Are you going to fight?”

  “I am going to watch Rodin’s back while Andrei watches Olaf.”

  “What if Rodin loses?” Elena asked. “What then?”

  With a reassuring smile, Drake pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Pray that does not happen.”

  Rodin demanded an audience the moment Drake and Katiya returned to the Fortress. After spending time with Elena, Drake found it difficult to go back to pretending that he and Katiya were happily wed and joyfully anticipating the birth of their first child, but both Rodin and Liliana seemed convinced.

  After the initial greetings were over, Katiya and Liliana left the men to converse alone.

  “So,” Rodin said, sitting back in his chair. “Married life agrees with you.”

  “We get on well together.” Drake sat in his mother’s chair, his legs stretched out in front of him.

  “Stefan told you about Gerret?”

  “You are not worried about the outcome of the challenge, are you?”

  Rodin snorted. “The Irishman is no threat. It is obvious that Florin set this up to accomplish his own agenda.”

  “I will take care of Florin.”

  “If I lose the fight, you must challenge Gerret. I do not want your mother to have to leave the Fortress.”

  “Of course,” Drake said, frowning. “But that will not happen.”

  “I cannot control this Coven and the Irish territory, as well. When I have defeated Gerret, your mother and I will move to the Irish Fortress temporarily. She has always wanted to visit Ireland. You will take over the Coven here until we return. It will make a good home for you and Katiya and your child.”

  “No.” Drake shook his head emphatically. “No. I do not want to live here. Nor do I wish the responsibilities of being a Master Vampire.”

  “You are the oldest and the strongest of my sons. You have pledged your life and your allegiance to me, and you will do as you are told.”

  Drake sat back, his mind spinning. “And if I refuse?”

  “You will not.”

  With Drake gone, Elena couldn’t sit still. She moved from one thing to another, unable to concentrate on anything. She tried to watch a movie, she tried reading a book, playing solitaire, baking a cake. She couldn’t concentrate on the movie or the book, she tossed the cards on the floor, she burned the cake.

  She talked Stefan into helping her rearrange the furniture in the main hall, but quickly lost interest.

  “I can’t stay here,” she said, ar
ms akimbo. “It’s killing me, not knowing what’s going on!”

  “What do you want me to do?” Stefan asked.

  “Take me to the Fortress.”

  “No way. Drake would have my head, if Rodin did not take it first.”

  She dropped down on the sofa, which was now in the center of the room. “How do vampires fight, anyway?”

  “With swords.”

  “Swords! How positively medieval.”

  “You have no idea.” He took a seat on the nearest chair and stretched his legs out in front of him.

  “Drake said they fight to the death.”

  Stefan nodded. He had seen a few challenges in his time. Some were quickly over. Others turned into blood baths. Either way, they were not pretty.

  “Will Rodin win?”

  “Undoubtedly. There is no one better with a sword except perhaps Drake.”

  “Swords,” she murmured.

  “What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know. Something otherworldly.” She paused a moment. There had been no swords involved when Drake killed his brother. “How did Drake kill Vardin?”

  Stefan leaned forward, his expression solemn. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  “I think so,” she said, then frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “It was not as quick as a sword thrust, or as merciful.”

  “So, what did he do?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

  “Drake ripped his heart out.”

  She swallowed hard. “With . . . with his hands?”

  Stefan nodded. “You look a little pale. Can I get you anything?”

  “No. No, I’m fine.” She recalled the body lying under a blanket on the floor of her room in the Fortress, the awful bloody stain on the blanket, and on the rug beneath.

  Wrapping her arms around her middle, she whispered, “I think I’m going to be sick.”