The White Lily (Vampire Blood series)

by Juliette Cross

  She skated her glance to Grant and to Mikhail, who still held silent but who certainly absorbed every word. “What you need is someone who is unknown to your uncle and the vampire royalty, someone who might be able to distract a royal with her feminine assets and get the information—”

  “No.” His blue eyes silvered to flint.

  “Consider it, Friedrich. I could wear an alluring dress. You could tell me the best target since you’ll know everyone. I could—”

  “No.” He shot to his feet and paced toward his desk.

  “I’d be the perfect bait. I could play the role of one of your favorite bleeders, a vapid noble lady only interested in balls and parties.”

  He turned and scoffed, hands low on his hips. “You couldn’t play a vapid lady if you tried.”

  Brenna arched a brow at him before inhaling a deep breath, wiping her expression clean of anxiety. She relaxed her posture and walked toward him, swaying her hips seductively, smiling at him with sex in her eyes. “Oh, darling,” she drawled, “I just adore your castle.” She reached him and placed both hands on his chest, molding her frame against his side, petting over his pectoral and down his abdomen, a simpering smile in place. “It’s so hard and strong. Just like its owner. I’d do just anything to stay within your safe protection, Your Grace.”

  Friedrich stared at her, speechless, an unreadable expression hardening his regal face.

  Grant let out a bark of laughter. “She’s good.”

  “Very good,” added Mikhail, clearing his throat.

  That seemed to break the spell. Friedrich gripped her by the waist and lifted her away from his body.

  “Regardless of how well you can use your charms, you’ve forgotten the most important factor.” Simmering fury radiated from the taut line of his body and the sharp angles of his face. “Your scent, Miss Snow.”

  Her gut clenched. She had forgotten.

  “The second you step into the ballroom, my uncle will recognize the scent of the White Lily in his presence.”

  “Well,” interjected Mikhail, stepping closer. “Not necessarily.”

  Friedrich shot him a daggered look. Mikhail didn’t flinch but had the temerity to raise his brow in a way that told her Friedrich wasn’t being entirely truthful.

  “What does he mean, Friedrich? There’s another way, isn’t there?”

  “Oh, there’s another way,” said Grant, sounding like the devil with a delicious secret.

  “There’s no time for that,” Friedrich snapped to them, turning his attention away from her. If it was possible for the man to tighten his posture anymore, he might break in half. “The ball begins three nights from now and there’s a half day of travel.”

  “You’re a Varis,” said Grant, shoving off the shelf and heading for the door, his expression dark and grave. “There is time.” He paused when he swung the door open. “I’ll ready the children. They’ll need to leave tonight. No time to delay.”

  “Tonight?” Panic gripped Brenna. Everything was happening so fast.

  Mikhail stepped forward, facing Friedrich. “I’ll assemble the team who will escort them, Your Grace.”

  “Thank you, Mikhail. I need you and Dmitri with me. Gregorovich will lead the children’s escort party.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” He snapped a bow and left, closing the door behind him.

  Brennalyn faced him, his hands clasped at his back. Electric tension rippled between them though his expression remained hard and unyielding. Afraid to ask, she did it anyway.

  “What did they mean? How might I go with you?” She swallowed hard, but there was no saliva left in her mouth.

  He studied her with those flinty eyes, yet heat simmered behind his shuttered coolness. “There is a way I could mask your scent.”

  “There is?” She swallowed again. Still no saliva, her throat gone bone dry. She wasn’t quite sure she wanted to know the answer the way he seemed to be coiled so tight, a predator gauging when to pounce.

  “If I mark you as my own, no vampire would smell anything but me on your skin and under it for that matter.”

  She licked her lips. “I see.” His gaze flicked to the movement. “And h-how do you make that happen?”

  He chuckled darkly. “Oh, not just me. You must be a full participant as well.”

  “So you mean sex.”

  His grin broadened, and she felt it like a caress against her skin. “No, kitten. Not just sex. I mean complete and absolute submission. No holding back. No withdrawing emotionally. Physically. No walls erected between us.” He sauntered closer to where she was frozen still. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “And that’s not all.”

  She blinked hard then asked, “What else is there?”

  “Normally, this type of marking occurs between a vampire and his mistress over a few weeks or months, sometimes years of being lovers.”

  “But, but we only have a few days,” she sputtered.

  “Correct.”

  “It’s impossible.”

  He tucked his hands in his pockets and ambled toward the hearth. He stared down in deep concentration as if divining something in the flames.

  “No. It’s not. Grant’s right. Varis blood runs through my veins.” He turned, pinning her with a potent stare. “If you open yourself entirely to my body, and my bite, it can be done, though it would most probably take the next two days up until the time we must leave.”

  “Two days!”

  He faced her, his smoldering smile having replaced the iciness. “Oh, yes. Two whole days. And nights. In my bed.”

  She tried to let that sink in. Two whole days—and nights—of Friedrich’s hands, body, mouth, teeth. And no barriers of any kind. Her pulse quickened with trepidation. She’d been doing her damnedest to keep the vampire duke at arm’s length, to keep him away from her soft, tender organ beneath her ribcage. The crushing pain she’d felt when Elliott abandoned her would be nothing compared to what she’d feel if she opened herself to Friedrich and he did the same. Fear skated up her spine, dampening her brow in a cold sweat.

  He stepped closer, capturing her gaze but keeping his hands in his pockets. “I would rather send you with Gregorovich and the children to the Black Lily.” He studied her, shoulders tight once more before he inhaled a deep lungful of air and exhaled heavily. “But you’re right. The king will likely be watching me. You would be able to move around the ball and speak to important allies of his more freely. More easily. My uncle knows me. I never entertain the same bleeders for very long. He recently chastised me for not having my own Blood Harem.”

  Brenna winced. The idea of him having several women housed at Winter Hill to satisfy his lust for flesh and blood felt like swallowing a bramble of thorns that happened to lodge in her throat. “And do most royals have a harem?”

  “Oh, yes. My uncle’s is quite large. He’s always found me odd for not keeping one.”

  “And why haven’t you?”

  “Because I find the practice repugnant.” There was anger behind his words. Rage, even.

  “If you’re going to demand that I drop all barriers, then I demand that you do the same,” she said softly as she stepped within an inch of him, placing a gentle hand on his chest. “Why do you find it so repugnant when it is a common practice for royals?”

  The bite of anger and pain flickered over his face. He clenched his jaw before grating out, “Because my father kept a harem. A large one that he continually refilled with new beauties.” He exhaled a weighty sigh. “And I saw what it did to my mother.”

  She slid her hand up to his neck. “And will your uncle think it strange for you to have marked someone? As your—as your own?” She could hardly get the words out, much less absorb their meaning.

  “My uncle has always thought me strange, so it matters little. You simply have to do your best acting job in that you’re nothing more than another aristocrat leeching onto a vampire duke for his riches and power.”

  She winced at that, but kept close. �
��That sounds rather awful.”

  He cupped her face, fingers threading into her hair. “You’ll need to blend in with the other nobles, talking about nonsense, talking about yourself, condescending to servants, snubbing your nose at anyone less titled. You can’t be Brennalyn. You can’t reveal the caring, compassionate, beautiful person you are within. Or they’ll know. He will know.” His thumbs brushed along her cheekbones, stroking tenderly but his firm grip demanded her focus. “Can you do that? Can you push aside everything you are?”

  “For Helena. Yes. I can do anything.”

  He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, releasing a ragged breath. “Doing it this way, in this time frame…it may be exhausting. Overwhelming for you. But I will make the experience as pleasant as I can. As gentle as I can.”

  She wanted to laugh, knowing somehow that this marking would be anything but gentle. It would scrape her down to her soul to lay herself so bare—physically and emotionally. And she knew there would be pleasure. Of that, she had no doubt. Anticipation had her pulse thrumming faster. She let the sensation of Friedrich’s promise wrap around her like a warm cloak as she banded her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek into his sternum, hearing his own rapid heartbeat. Perhaps, he was a little nervous, too.

  “I trust you, Friedrich.”

  And she truly did.

  Chapter Twenty

  “We’ll miss you, Mimi,” said Emmett, throwing his arms around her waist in an uncharacteristic show of affection.

  Caden and Jack joined their brother, the three of them cocooning her in little boy arms and lanky bodies. Caden pulled back first, turning away with a hard swipe across his cheek.

  They stood in a circle of tall evergreens just beyond the exit of a secret passageway outside the castle. When Friedrich had led them down the cavernous tunnel from a hidden door in the kitchen, the boys had been excited about embarking on a clandestine mission. But now, at the time of parting, they were sullen and quiet.

  It was a bright, starry night, the near-full moon hanging above the tree line like an interloper listening in. The air still, but crisp.

  Beatrice stood to the side, wearing a brave face. Brenna went to her and cupped her cheek. “You’ll take care of the boys, won’t you, Beatrice?”

  Her eyes were rimmed red, but she didn’t let the tears spill. “Yes, Mimi.” Her voice was scratchy. “Olog and I made enough meat pies and pastries to last the journey.” She bit her bottom lip.

  Brenna pulled her into a hug and whispered into her ear as Beatrice was almost her height. “I’m sorry, my dear.” She smelled of flour and woodsmoke and sweet herbs, that distinct aroma that was only Beatrice. “I’m counting on you to keep the boys and the little ones in line. They’ll need you.” She needn’t add, because Helena isn’t here. Beatrice understood.

  She squeezed her tighter. “Don’t worry, Mimi. I’ll take care of them.”

  Brenna let her go and knelt down to Izzy and Denny, who were both sniveling. Izzy most of all. Her sky-blue eyes sparkled with tears. “Come here, both of you.” She pulled them into a hug. Denny practically choked her, squeezing her around the neck.

  “Denny, I didn’t thank you before, but I want to now. You were so brave when you told us Helena was in trouble. I want you to work on your speech until I can see you again. Don’t let your fear keep you from becoming the young man you’re meant to be.” She pulled back and met his sweet dark-eyed gaze. “Do you understand?”

  He nodded, no longer sniffing. He wiped his face with his sleeve. “Yes, Mimi,” he whispered.

  She swallowed the lump lodged in her throat. “That’s my boy. I’ll be eager to see how much progress you’ve made when I come to meet you all.”

  Izzy piped in. “So you will come meet us soon?”

  “Oh, yes, darling.” She kissed Izzy on the cheek. “Very soon. The duke and I are going to get Helena. Then we’ll all be together again. So no more tears. All right?”

  Izzy exhaled a shaky breath then nodded.

  “That’s my big, brave girl.”

  Brenna gave them both one more hug then stood and surveyed her children. Minus Helena. Quelling the storm of fear and sorrow in watching her children leave without her, she forced a smile to her face.

  “Listen to the Bloodguard and all will be just fine. They are experts in covert operations and battle. You are well-protected on your journey.”

  She caught the spark of excitement shine in Caden’s eyes as he grinned at Emmett. She knew her words would move them out of sadness and remind them they were going on an adventure. Grant leaned over and whispered something to the boys as well, which made them smile even wider. It seemed they’d all formed an attachment to her children. But who could blame them?

  The circle of twelve guardsmen came forward. Mikhail and Dmitri had also come to see them off. Mikhail seemed to be giving a last few words of instruction to his men. They nodded in unison to his quiet words. This force of men was a well-honed machine. They seemed even more in tune than Legionnaires. Though admittedly, her only interaction with Legionnaires was back in Korinth, where they appeared to be little more than patrolling guards, meandering through the streets. She never trusted them, as they always seemed to be propositioning pretty women to become their bleeders.

  But this lot of the Bloodguard were different. She wasn’t even sure who they drank from. They were so discreet and private, following their own code of vampire etiquette. And though they were the fiercest crew she’d ever laid eyes on—especially now dressed all in black, their glittering eyes shining beneath the moonlight—she trusted them with her most precious treasures. She still felt a pang of loss at their leaving. But she also breathed a sigh of relief knowing they were in the safest care imaginable among these men.

  Gregorovich, the mountainous one Friedrich had put in charge, moved to Brenna. “Do not fear, Miss Snow. I will get them there safely. On my life.” He bowed then stepped toward Caden and crouched. “On my back, boy.”

  Caden grinned like it was Harvest Holiday and climbed on his back. Beatrice and Emmett also climbed aback the vampires assigned to carrying them. The smaller ones were lifted into the arms of their carriers. Friedrich had already explained to her that each child would have a carrier, and a guard was assigned to protect each carrier should they come under attack while in motion. They would move at vampire speed as long as possible, though the experience might make one or more of the children sick. At that speed, they should reach Hiddleston, a port village to the southeast where there were contacts of the Black Lily.

  Izzy stared up at the sharp-angled face of her assigned protector. “What’s your name?” she asked, bold as ever.

  “I am Aleksei,” came the melodious baritone of the man cradling her against his chest.

  “That’s a pwetty name. For a boy. Do you know we have the same color hair?”

  The vampire smiled as she pointed to a long strand of his blond hair falling over his shoulder. “Indeed. We do.” He grinned and joined the others in line, waiting for Gregorovich.

  Brenna shook her head. Already, Izzy had wrapped the fierce guardsman around her finger.

  Friedrich stepped up behind Brenna, placing a comforting hand around her waist. “Gregorovich. As I said before, I have reason to believe Marius and some of the Black Lily soldiers may be encamped near Hiddleston. Report to the Bull’s Head in Hiddleston. The bartender will get word to him if he’s there. Or he’ll get the person who can arrange passage, if not. I’ve already sent word to Marius what has transpired so he’ll know you’re coming.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  He said lower, “This is an important mission. More so than any I’ve ever given you.”

  Brenna’s heart clenched. Friedrich was telling him that the lives of her children were more important than his own, for the only other mission of the Bloodguard was to protect the life of the duke.

  “I will not allow any harm to come to them,” he said, fierce determination written
on his shadowed face, moonlight glinting in the deep dark of his eyes.

  Then he moved, blurring away so fast, Brenna sucked in a breath. A split second later, they were all gone, leaving Brenna alone with Friedrich, Grant, Mikhail, and Dmitri. Grant watched where they’d disappeared, then gave her a reassuring smile before reentering the long, man-made cavern back into the castle. Dmitri and Mikhail followed suit without a word. Friedrich remained still and quiet behind her.

  So silent. The pristine snow sparkled like fairy dust on the trees and ground. The cascade of stars across the inky night flickered in joyous harmony so incongruent with her heart, which seemed to be shrinking to nothing behind her ribcage. Pounding out a lament that only she could hear.

  “It’s so beautiful.” Her words sounded too loud in the serenity of the still beauty.

  The tears finally fell. Friedrich turned her into his arms, pulled her against the expanse of his broad chest, and rocked her gently, rubbing his palm in slow circles below her shoulder blades. She sobbed. She knew not how long as he held her. Patiently. Sweetly. Murmuring soft words of reassurance, soothing the ache of loss that bloomed the moment her children vanished.

  After some time, he bent and scooped her up into his arms. She laced them at his neck and lay her head against his shoulder, letting the sadness well and release as he carried her through the dark cave and out through the iron door inside one of the kitchen’s pantries. Without releasing her, he closed the paneled shelf that concealed the door, hearing the mechanical cogs turn and notch into place to lock and seal the hidden entrance.

  As he carried her through the cold, dark kitchen, so different than the day she saw the smiling Beatrice dusted with flour rolling dough next to Olog, she asked, “Are we going to start—?” The what? The marking?

  “Quiet, kitten. I’m going to take care of you.”

  She settled deeper against his chest. The rhythmic, strong beat of his heart and his commanding hold reminded her that she was in the arms of a powerful Varis vampire who treated her like a treasure. Not a broken woman to be cast aside. She latched onto his promise and let him take care of her.