Alexandra sat up and began buttoning her blouse. “We don’t have to do this, Marius. I was really having second thoughts about it myself. It’s too soon. We can just forget this ever happened.”
“I said leave, now!”
She froze. Was he serious? She wasn’t sure how to interpret his sudden change in behavior. Anger surged within her. It wasn’t as if she’d caused the situation single-handedly. He’d been more than a willing participant. In fact, he’d initiated the entire thing. And now he was throwing her out without even an explanation!
Saying nothing more, she snatched up her shoes and left, slamming the door behind her.
Marius remained as he was for some time, scolding himself for sending her away as he had. He knew he’d hurt her, and he rationalized that it had been for her own good, because in a few minutes his transformation would be upon him. Yet there was another motive behind his actions, one that shocked him. There was no denying that he wanted her body, but the thought of making love to her with the deception and his impending duty looming over their heads didn’t sit well with him. Instead, he found himself wanting more than a moment of pleasure.
He opened the top drawer of the dresser and pulled out the object that sat in one corner. It was the gold charm bracelet. After rescuing her from the thieves in the alley, he’d hunted down the man who’d taken it from her. Retrieving it had been no difficult task.
He wasn’t certain why he’d gone to so much trouble. Perhaps it had been the way she’d begged the thief not to take it. He knew it was important and decided that it was time to return it to her.
Alexandra examined the small box she’d found on her threshold after returning from the Criminal Records Department the next day. It was lavender—her favorite color—and bound with a length of silver ribbon. She gave it a shake and something rattled inside—jewelry perhaps. A warm sensation crept over her. Marius certainly didn’t waste any time. One would think that with only two weeks of knowing each other, the proper apology gift would be a bouquet of flowers.
With restrained excitement, she pulled one end of the ribbon and slipped it off. She held her breath as she opened the lid…and her anticipation became panic. What she’d expected to be a finely handcrafted gold or silver necklace turned out to be a bracelet—Mady’s bracelet!
With trembling fingers, she removed it from the box and held it up. There was no doubt that it was the one that Mady’s mother had given her. How? her mind screamed. It had been stolen, and the only person who could have returned it to her was the thief who’d snatched it from her wrist. The question was, why would he do such a thing? Better yet, how the hell had he found her?
Stay calm, she told herself. She closed her eyes and remembered the night of the attack. Her purse had contained nothing with an address on it and there was no way the men could have followed her. How then had the bracelet found its way back to her? Had someone else witnessed the attack and retrieved it? Unlikely. The only other person—or entity—that had been present was the gargoyle. And there was no way he could have simply waltzed into her apartment building and left the box at her door.
Perhaps it had been delivered. No, that was even more preposterous. She could hardly imagine the gargoyle making a payment at a UPS counter.
She slumped on the couch. There was one possible way she could find out who had brought the box. Every floor in her apartment building was equipped with security cameras. All she would have to do was view the tape for that morning, and the mystery would be revealed.
She picked up the phone and dialed the security desk in the front foyer. “Hi, Mr. Rollins, how are you? This is Alexandra Barret from apartment 13B.”
Mr. Rollins was a retired pastry chef who worked a few days out of the week as a security guard. He was an honest and kind man. “What can I do for you, dear?” he asked.
“Well,” Alexandra began hesitantly. “I need to view the security tape for my floor, just for this morning.”
“Oh, no, can’t do that,” he refused. “It’s against building policy.”
“You don’t understand. Someone left something at my door, and I desperately need to find out who it was. We can keep it between us. No one has to know,” she pleaded.
“Something like what? Should we call the police?”
“No. At least, not yet. It’s a box.”
“A box? Did it have a bow on it?” he asked with a hint of amusement.
“Yes, but the item inside was stolen from me a few days ago. I’m afraid one of the thieves might have located me.” She tried again. “A young woman can’t be too careful these days, you know.”
He was silent for a moment. “Hmm. That is odd. Okay, you can come down and view the tape, but you can’t tell anyone about this.”
“Thanks, Mr. Rollins.”
Alexandra hung up and hurried down to the foyer. Mr. Rollins let her into a small security video room, and after showing her how to review the digital footage for her floor, returned to his post. She rewound through a few hours of empty hallway, expecting the door to the elevator to open and one of the thieves to walk out. Instead, the door to Marius’s apartment opened. He was naked to the waist and his hair was wild from an apparently restless night.
She went still as the footage resumed real-time play. Even in the inferior quality of the recording, Marius looked beautiful. But his appearance was hardly the thing that rendered her immobile. It was what he held. He crossed the short distance of the hall and stood outside her door for a full minute. Then, bending slowly, he placed the box at her threshold.
Alexandra sank slowly back in the chair in front of the monitor as she tried to organize the many questions wreaking havoc in her mind. How had Marius come across the bracelet? How long had it been in his possession, and was he somehow connected to the thieves or to the gargoyle?
Chapter 11
Marius stood before the large brick fireplace, his eyes fixed to the lapping flames as he waited. It was late afternoon, and he’d spent the last several hours driving from Manhattan in order to arrive at his cousin Andrew’s estate before his father did. Lord Victor Drakon had decided to travel to the States to conduct business and expected a complete update on the progress of the Lunar Ritual.
Marius wasn’t too thrilled about his father’s arrival as this was the third day of the waxing gibbous moon and he had not drawn a drop of Alexandra’s blood. Time was running out, yet he couldn’t bring himself to harm her in any way. Somehow Alexandra had wound herself about his conscience and the idea of killing her had descended into cruelty. One so selfless and pure of heart didn’t deserve such an end. In sorcery, there were often multiple ways of approach and if there was another way to break the curse, he was determined to find it.
He knew that his father would frown upon such emotions. Over the centuries, Lord Drakon had taught his sons to be wise and watchful. He would no doubt deem Marius’s reluctance the result of witchcraft. Yet no spells had been cast and no incantations performed. Alexandra was an innocent, but the fact that she had no knowledge of the curse or its nature wasn’t enough to exempt her from the fate his family intended for her.
His attention was drawn to the artwork on the wall above the fireplace. It was a painting from the 1500s, of his uncle Demetri and his family. Demetri was the many-times-great grandfather of Marius’s cousin Andrew. That branch of the family had been spared the curse, for at the time of the witch’s death, Demetri and his wife had been living on one of the Drakon estates near a town called Moldova. Only those living at Victor’s castle had been afflicted, Drakons and servants alike.
The secret had been passed down and kept through each generation of Demetri’s family, who continued to serve and protect the gargoyle clan.
The door to the study opened and he turned as his cousin Elsthbeth entered. She was tall, dark and beautiful—true to the Drakon bloodline—and wore riding attire. She paused when she saw him, and confusion moved across her face. She’d never seen him as a man.
“Ma
rius?” At his nod she moved forward and embraced him, kissing him on each cheek. “I heard you’d arrived.”
“Only an hour ago.” He smiled and looked her over. “You certainly have grown since I last saw you.”
She’d been twelve years old when her family had last visited the castle in Romania.
Elsthbeth’s eyes twinkled. “It’s been five years. And you, Marius, you haven’t aged a bit.”
He nodded solemnly. For him five years was like a day. His body aged slowly, but it was his mind that bore the heavy weight of lifetimes of misery.
She placed her riding crop on a nearby table and stripped off her coat. “Father tells me that Uncle Victor will be arriving shortly, as well. Do you think Simion and Nicholas are coming along?”
At the mention of his older brothers, Marius’s jaw tightened. The last thing he needed right now was an audience. “I am not certain,” he replied stiffly.
“It would be real fun to have all of you here. Nicholas promised to teach me a new fencing trick. Perhaps I may even challenge you to a duel.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I gather you’ve become quite efficient with the rapier?”
She nodded proudly. “Yes, and quite arrogant where my skills are concerned.”
Her statement forced a laugh from him. She was a lot like him when he was much younger—before five centuries stripped the joy from him.
The muffled sound of voices emerged from outside and Elsthbeth hurried to the window. A smile leaped to her face and she spun around.
“They’re here! Aunt Amelia, too!” she announced excitedly.
Mother is here, as well.
Marius moved to the window that overlooked the large, gravel-covered courtyard. He peered down two stories to see a butler garbed in formal attire assisting his mother out of a sleek black Rolls-Royce. His father was on the other side, straightening his coat. Another car pulled up behind them—a flashy silver Lamborghini with tinted windows.
His brothers.
Simion was the first to step out. He was garbed, as usual, in a well-tailored suit, his long hair falling over his shoulders. He removed his sunglasses and flexed his shoulders beneath his coat. Nicholas, the younger of the two, was dressed like a heavy-metal guitarist in black leather pants and a tight-fitting white pullover and his hair fell down his back in a long braid. He reached into the car and pulled out a long metal case—his weapons. He never traveled without them.
Upon seeing him, Elsthbeth emitted an excited squeak. Marius suspected that the girl had developed a crush on his older brother. He suppressed a smirk. He hoped she kept him well preoccupied. That way Nicholas would have no time to criticize his delay.
His cousin turned to him, her face glowing. “Let’s go down and greet them.”
Reluctantly, Marius nodded. He wasn’t quite ready for a confrontation, but the sooner he got it over with, the sooner he could dedicate his time to finding another way to break the curse.
They headed down the winding staircase that led to the main foyer. Elsthbeth’s father, Andrew, was exiting the dining hall when they reached the front entrance. The girl ran outside, but Marius chose to remain inside. He sighed and leaned against the doorjamb.
Andrew Drakon came to stand beside him. He was an inch or two shorter than Marius, but possessed all the Drakon characteristics.
Although not a gargoyle himself, Andrew was an integral part of their lives. He handled all business affairs that required attendance and organized travel for the members of their clan who were unable to journey independently because of the curse. Several of those who served the Drakon gargoyles had been trained to fly their family’s private aircraft for this purpose alone.
“Have you decided what you’re going to tell him yet?” he asked with a knowing look.
“No,” Marius replied, offering nothing.
“Life will be very different for you once the curse has ended, you know this?” When Marius failed to respond, Andrew continued. “It’s easy to understand why you all must crave humanity, but in exchange for it you will be surrendering your strength, your superiority…your immortality.”
Marius searched his eyes. Andrew wasn’t in the dark about the workings of the curse nor what was necessary to end it. He knew why Marius had come to the United States, and he knew that time was running out. But could he have possibly read the frustration and confusion plaguing him? And if so, had he misinterpreted it for reluctance to end the curse?
Before Andrew could say another word, Marius’s parents entered the foyer.
Andrew greeted Lord Victor Drakon with open arms. “Welcome, cousin! I hope your journey here wasn’t too tedious.” He embraced him warmly.
His father looked at his watch. “No, it was fine. It seems we still have several hours before sunset.”
Andrew turned to Amelia. “My lady, you’re looking lovely as always. Welcome again.” He brought one of her slender hands to his lips.
She smiled, her gray eyes flickering. “Thank you, Andrew. It is a pleasure to be in your home again. I see you’ve made some changes, and your little Elsthbeth has grown into such a beautiful young woman.”
He laughed. “Yes, indeed. Quite a handful she is. Her mother is seeing to supper, which will be ready in an hour. So that gives you time to relax and freshen up.” He motioned to the butler. “Robert, will you show our guests to their rooms, please.”
The servant nodded. “Follow me, my lord.”
Lord Drakon paused at the door. “Marius,” he greeted.
“Hello, Father,” Marius said, studying his sire. Victor was tall and broad shouldered and his face was creased with lines that did no justice to his true age.
“I trust that all is well with you?”
Marius inclined his head and offered a subtle smile.
“Good. We will speak at dinner, then.” Lord Drakon motioned to the butler and the man led the way down the hall.
Simion and Nicholas—with a chattering Elsthbeth hanging on Nicholas’s arm—followed, each nodding to Marius in passing.
Once they were alone, Lady Amelia moved forward and placed a kiss on Marius’s cheek. “I have sorely missed your presence in Romania. You are well, yes?” she asked as she adjusted the collar of his shirt.
Marius nodded. “I am fine, Mother.”
The sleek lines of her still very beautiful face were etched with concern. “Are you certain? It seems that something troubles you.”
The warmth in her gray eyes stilled some of his anxiety. If anyone could understand his plight it would be his mother, but he wasn’t ready to reveal the true nature of his dilemma to anyone.
All he would ask of his family was to grant him time—time to find a way to spare the life of a woman who didn’t deserve death. There still remained seven days in the Spring Equinox.
Lady Amelia smoothed a tendril of silver-streaked hair back into place. “Will you not tell me what is on your mind?”
“Not yet, Mother,” he responded quietly.
She sighed softly. “Very well, I shall see you at dinner.” She lingered a moment longer, her eyes searching his face, and then she left.
Marius ran his fingers through his hair. It seemed that for now he’d been spared the dissatisfaction of his family. But that did nothing to appease his anxiety, for he knew that soon the subject of the ritual would be breached. He decided that he would spend what little time he had trying to concoct a viable excuse for his delay.
Dinner was hosted early that evening in the main dining hall. Its ceiling was two stories high, its brick walls draped with tapestries of knights and dragons and picturesque castle scenes, some of which dated back to the early 1700s. The massive wooden table was the centerpiece of the room, extending nearly twenty feet, and a crystal chandelier hanging above it lit the room and sparkled in the fading daylight that slanted in through the tall windows. Charlotte, Andrew’s wife, had organized an elaborate meal. Marius didn’t have much of an appetite, but he forced himself to eat to av
oid offending the hostess.
They were all dressed in the formal attire of the ancient nobility, in rich velvets and exquisite brocades. Marius had decided to wear black, as it better suited his present mood. He sat in silence through most of the event, waiting impatiently for his father to inquire about his progress. Instead, Lord Drakon and Andrew steered the conversation in the direction of business. Finally, when Elsthbeth had been dismissed—she wasn’t quite ready to be privy to such matters—Lord Drakon’s attention turned to Marius.
“Marius, the waning crescent moon is nearly upon us. Have you completed the Lunar Ritual?” he asked.
Marius said nothing for a moment then shook his head. “No, Father, I have not. I have yet to draw her blood.”
Lord Drakon fixed him with an inquiring look. “Please, enlighten us, what delays you?”
Silence filled the room and Marius was met with the many curious and impatient stares of his family members. He’d spent the entire day constructing an explanation that would justify his actions, but now words fled from him. There was nothing he could say to appease them, yet an explanation was expected.
He cleared his throat and met his father’s gaze. His mother sat beside Lord Drakon and smiled encouragingly. “I have not completed the ritual because she is not what I was warned to expect,” he stated firmly.
Confusion crossed his father’s face. “She is the Descendant, is she not?”
“She is,” he replied reluctantly.
“Then explain yourself. What more do you need?”
Again he cast a look around the table. His brothers wore deep scowls while Andrew and his wife looked on with curiosity. “I’ve met her personally and she is not at all like a witch. She is an innocent—kind and gentle and honest.”
Simion slammed his fist against the table, rattling the china and silverware. “You waste your time conducting a character assessment while your family’s future is at stake!” he growled.
Heiress to a Curse Page 11