Wynter's Bite | Historical Paranormal Romance: Vampires (Scandals With Bite Book 5)

by Brooklyn Ann

  She lunged to follow, but her arms were seized and wrenched back by the men who’d come out with Doctor Keene.

  The doctor tsked behind her. “You mustn’t become overwrought. You will be comfortable here. Morningside is the best asylum in all of England. Your parents must love you very much to bring you here.”

  “Love me?” she repeated incredulously. “They just abandoned me here!”

  “For your own good.” The doctor opened the carved oak door with an alarmingly large lock and gestured for the men to bring her inside. “You’ll come to like it. In fact, I’m certain you will make new friends by week’s end.”

  Tears pricked the back of Bethany’s eyes as the guards hauled her up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway full of doors. The doctor opened one near the end and the men delivered her into a room that was cozy enough, yet the unadorned walls covered with yellow damask wallpaper gave her a chill for some inexplicable reason. The men deposited her onto a narrow tester bed and thankfully released her.

  “This will be your room for your stay,” Doctor Keene said. “Your trunk will be brought in shortly and I will have tea sent up. Then you and I will have a nice little chat about this beau of yours.” With that, he and his assistants left the room.

  The click of the lock echoed in her heart.

  Bethany lay back on the bed and stared at the lemon colored ceiling, her mind racing with horror at what was happening. Was this all a terrible dream? She prayed to awaken in her own bed. For Justus to come calling as planned and ask for her hand.

  Closing her eyes, she relived his kiss. How soft his lips felt upon hers. How tenderly he held her in his arms.

  Too soon, the door of her new room opened and the men who’d dragged her up here brought in her trunk. The doctor followed, a maid at his side carrying a tea tray.

  After the tea was poured, Doctor Keene regarded her over the rim of his cup as if she were an interesting species of insect. “Tell me about this vampire you thought you’d marry.”

  “His name is Viscount de Wynter and of course I do not believe he is a vampire,” Bethany said, regretting more than ever voicing Justus’s secret. “I’d fallen from my horse that day and the laudanum made me say odd things.”

  “I’ve never in my years encountered a patient who reacted quite that way from laudanum,” Doctor Keene eyed her through his spectacles. “But what of this marriage proposal you were to receive?”

  “That was real,” she insisted, fingers playing about the edges of her tea cup.

  “Your father said the man never paid you a single call.”

  Frustration twisted her insides. She clearly couldn’t tell him why. “We danced and conversed at balls, suppers, and musicales,” she explained. “And he was going to call on me to ask my father for my hand, but something must have happened to delay him.” What had happened to Justus that night? The constant worry gnawed at her like a dog with a piece of rawhide. Had some sort of danger befallen him? Or had he simply changed his mind and decided not to shackle himself to a silly human girl?

  Doctor Keene regarded her with a pitying stare. “Many a young lady such as yourself have fallen for the charms of unscrupulous men and believed them to have noble intentions. Perhaps your calling him a vampire was a metaphor of sorts for his predatory nature.” Suddenly he frowned. “You haven’t tasted your tea.”

  She raised a brow. “The last time I had tea, it was drugged by my own mother.”

  “You think I’d drug you? Fascinating.” The doctor adjusted his spectacles. “Although I will indeed administer medicine for when you need it, I assure you I will not use deceptive means to do so. I have a soothing tonic that you will have after supper, but it will not be hidden in your food or drink. I run an honest establishment.”

  Bethany took a cautious sip, and found that it tasted satisfactory, with no bitter aftertaste of laudanum.

  Keene leaned forward, continuing to dissect her with his eyes. “Now tell me, Miss Mead, do you ever see or hear things that are not there?”

  Her father’s words echoed in her memory. “Mother claimed to see and speak to angels.” She shivered. “I cannot say that I have. I am weary from my journey, Doctor. Would you mind if I follow your advice and rest?” If she had to endure his silly interrogations for a moment longer, she vowed she would scream.

  “Of course, Miss Mead.” He rose from the chair. “And when you’re feeling refreshed, I will introduce you to the other ladies in the wing before supper.” He then paused at the door. “My advice is to forget about the man who led you astray and do your best to find comfort here.”

  Bethany nodded as she handed the maid her cup, but only because that was the expected response. She lay back on her bed, staring at that hideous wallpaper.

  She would never forget Justus. Even now, her heart ached for him, a gaping hole that only he could fill.

  “He will find me,” she whispered, closing her eyes against the garish yellow surrounding her. “Justus will come for me.”

  But after four long years of waiting, she eventually accepted the fact that she’d imagined it all. Vampires weren’t real, and Justus was only a rake, taking advantage of her. Her parents’ abandonment was only further salt on the gaping wound of her heart.

  And after four more years in a gray cell in the pauper’s wing, Bethany even missed her ugly yellow room. At least then there was color.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Manchester, 1825

  Justus stood on the edge of an outcropping beside a gargoyle and stared through the bars of the dank cell of the asylum. His heart ached with agony at seeing his love crumpled on the cold stone floor from fainting at the sight of him.

  His breath remained frozen in his lungs until she stirred with a whimper.

  “Bethany!” he whispered as loud as he dared. “Are you alright?” If she’d injured herself in her fall, he didn’t know if he could bear it.

  Groaning, she slowly shuffled to her feet, eyeing him fearfully.

  What kind of malicious world was this to reduce her to such a weak and subdued state? Yes, Justus had suffered from his years as a rogue, but he had deserved it. Bethany did not deserve this.

  She was so thin and frail in her rough-spun frock. Her eyes were dilated and glazed like an opium addict’s, and she shook like a willow in a storm. Her once lush, waist-length golden hair was chopped to shoulder length and hung dull and listless around her thinned face.

  Eight years since he’d last laid eyes on the love of his life, and he hardly recognized her. But it was her, of that he had no doubt. Under the reek of terror and old sweat, he detected her unique scent that haunted his dreams since their first dance. But it was her words that chilled him the most.

  “You’re not real,” she whispered once more, slowly backing away to her shoddy cot.

  He reached through the bars, longing to feel her touch once more, but she was already too far from his grasp. “I am real,” he insisted. “Bethany, please, believe me. I’ve been searching for you all these years, never giving up, even when for some time I had reason the believe you were dead.”

  She shook her head, eyes wide and fearful. “Vampires aren’t real. Doctor Keene says so.”

  He sighed. “Doctors are among the foremost people who are not supposed to believe in us, but I assure you, I am quite real.” Another spear of pain stabbed his chest. “Don’t you remember the night I told you what I am? Don’t you remember my bite? The way we ran together?”

  “It was a dream,” she protested stubbornly. But a flash of her old spirit glinted in her blue eyes.

  “Not a dream,” he said, fixing her with a firm stare. Reaching into his shirt, he withdrew the locket she’d given him. “Look.” He opened the locket, revealing her miniature. “Since the night you gave this to me, I’ve never taken it off.” Well, except for the time the chain broke and Gavin had taken it, but he’d confess that folly later.

  Bethany studied the locket, a measure of the feral light in her eyes dimmed
as her brows creased in speculation.

  “Come here.” He struggled to maintain a note of command, rather than a desperate plea. “Take my hand once more, only, please do not faint again. Feel that I am real.”

  Still shivering with cold or fear, Bethany crossed her arms over her breasts as she took a deep, shuddering breath and slowly walked towards him. “Are you going to bite me again?” she asked with a touch of her inquisitiveness that he’d fallen in love with.

  “Good God, no!” He couldn’t hide his horror at the idea. “You are far too weak and malnourished for that.” Attempting some semblance of humor, he added, “Besides, I cannot fit my head through the bars. Now, please, take my hand.” Reaching out once more, he was gratified to see her lips twitch with a hint of a smile.

  He sighed in pleasure as her warm fingers intertwined with his. Her other hand grasped the locket around his neck, her thumb rubbing the well worn gold filigree.

  “Justus,” she said softly. “I cannot believe you are here. For years I waited for you. I’d given up.” Her gaze held his, with wonder echoing his own. “I was finally convinced that you weren’t real, that the night we met in the orchard was nothing but a delusional fantasy. That I was truly mad. But here you are. Very real.” Her eyes filled with tears, then narrowed. She jerked her hand from his grasp and shuffled backward. “Why didn’t you come for me sooner? I’ve been trapped in this horrid place for eight years!”

  “I was arrested the night I was to come ask for your hand. My lord had heard that you’d told your betrothed that I was a vampire.” The old pain rose to the surface. “Why didn’t you tell me you were betrothed? And why did you reveal my secret when you’d made a solemn vow not to do so?”

  “I didn’t know I was betrothed until that day!” she protested, lower lip quivering as if she were on the verge of tears. “And I did not mean to breathe a word about your secret. It’s just that I’d fallen from my horse and injured my knee. The laudanum made me voice my thoughts aloud.”

  “You fell?” His heart slammed against his ribs. She could have broken her neck. “Are you alright?”

  She chuckled. “Physically, yes. It was only a sprain. But the medicine I was given due to said injury has done untold damage. I was declared a lunatic, rejected by my own mother and father, and you were arrested, you say? For what I said in my drugged haze?” Aching sympathy pooled in her large blue eyes. “What became of you then? Did you escape?”

  He shook his head. “The penalty of revealing oneself to a mortal is death.” Her sharp intake of breath made him long to pull her into his arms. “But my lord had mercy on me and sentenced me to exile instead. I’d heard word that you’d been taken to Derbyshire to stay with a relative…”

  Bethany snorted. “That’s what mother and father told everyone. To avoid gossip for where they really took me.”

  Justus cursed his own stupidity. Of course Lord Wickshire would be averse to making it public knowledge that he’d packed his daughter off to an asylum. “I’d thought that the Lord Vampire of Rochester had you killed and had lied to get me away before he did the deed.” He attempted a pathetic justification for his reasoning. “Although it is forbidden to kill mortals, there are loopholes. So I temporarily abandoned my search and embarked on a foolish quest for vengeance that got other vampires killed. One deservedly so, but that’s not the point. Their blood is on my hands, and all for naught.”

  Her soft warm hands covered his. “What happened?”

  “My first years as a rogue vampire were miserable. To be honest, it is still not an easy life. I am constantly on the run, hiding from patrols of vampires who specifically hunt rogues. Securing meals and shelter are endless challenges. I blamed my lord for inflicting this suffering upon me, for without you, all I had left to hold onto was hatred.” The confession came tumbling out, like leaching an infection from an inflamed wound. “I gathered together a band of rogues, intent on making the Lord of Rochester suffer as I’ve suffered. Opportunity struck when at last, he fell in love.” And Justus knew all too well how foolish and desperate love could make a man. “I tried to cast suspicion on his bride so the Elders would strip him from his rank and exile him. Instead, my actions lured a Hunter to Rochester, which resulted in the deaths of two vampires. One of mine and one of his. Still, I was determined on vengeance. I kidnapped Rochester’s bride and held her hostage in exchange for a full pardon and for him to step down as Lord Vampire. And I was going to take his love away from him, to deprive him of her as he’d deprived you of me.” A bitter smile contorted his lips at the memory of the debacle he’d wrought. “Rochester offered a compromise. If I’d return his bride, I’d receive my pardon and your location, for his spies had determined that you were brought to Manchester, but not that you’d been committed. Lord knows how he managed to come by that information, but he’s always been a master of knowing everything about everyone.” And once upon a time, Justus had been the best of Gavin’s spies. Yet it seemed that the vampire who’d been his best of friends was doing just fine without him. Justus sighed and continued. “He should have killed me for the havoc and danger I brought to his land. Instead, he offered me a pardon, which I declined the moment he told me where you were, for if I’d accepted his offer I would have had to remain in Rochester under probation and would have been forbidden to go after you.”

  Bethany stroked his knuckles with excruciating gentleness. “You gave up a chance to end your misery for me?”

  He nodded. “I never stopped loving you. And my guilt will never abate for giving up my search for you in favor of vengeance.” His shoulders slumped. “I cannot fathom how to ask you to forgive me.”

  She looked down at her feet covered in worn stockings. “After all you’ve told me, I do not know when I shall be able to contemplate forgiving you. But you said you would take me from this place. Right now, that is all I wish.”

  “Oh, I will get you out of this horrid cell,” he growled. “But alas, I cannot do so tonight.”

  Her chin jerked up so fast that her hair flew up around her shoulders like a cloud. “Why not?”

  “If I tear these bars from the stone, people will hear.” His fists clenched on the iron bars with impotent fury. He could easily wrest them free from the red brick, but it would make a dreadful racket. “Furthermore, the Manchester vampires will know I’m in their lands. I am still a rogue, so if they find me, they will capture or kill me.”

  “Heavens! You are still in danger,” she gasped. For a moment she looked as if she would object to his assistance, then a mixture of resolution and fear hardened her features. “When will you secure my release then?”

  “As soon as possible,” he vowed. “I will find something to pry these bars free, then we will climb down and flee the area.”

  “Where will we go?” she asked.

  He paused as the magnitude and potential danger of such a trek impressed upon his consciousness. “Cornwall.”

  Bethany gasped. “Cornwall? Why so far away?”

  “I’ve heard word that the Lord of Cornwall often allows rogues and miscreants to take shelter with him, even become citizens.” Hope infused his words. To be able to stop running and hiding. To have a shelter to take refuge in for the day. A place to call home, a purpose. And best of all, to have Bethany in his arms. Yet there was no guarantee that the Earl of Deveril would grant him mercy. “And if we cannot settle in Cornwall, then we will find a ship bound for the Americas.”

  “So far away,” she breathed. Then she squeezed his hand so tightly that he could feel a shiver wrack her body. “But we must leave soon!”

  The urgency in her voice filled him with unease. “Why the rush? I understand that you are miserable here, yet you sound as if there is some pressing matter.”

  “Greeves,” she said with such terror that he longed to tear through the window and pull her into his arms. “He guards the female ward at night and does atrocious things to the patients. So far, Doctor Keene has kept me safe from his attentions, even thoug
h he refuses to believe me, but the doctor is going on holiday at week’s end. And Greeves has promised to take advantage of that fact.”

  Justus bared his fangs and growled. “He means to violate you?” He jerked on the bars of her window so hard that the iron shrieked. “I’ll kill him!”

  Bethany nodded. “Though I do indeed wish him dead, and I do not care if that makes me a deplorable person, won’t you attract suspicion if you do him in?”

  His growl deepened. “Bloody hell, you’re right. I apologize for cursing in front of you.”

  She laughed. “Aside from the scandalous reading material you’ve loaned me, I’ve heard my fill of impolite language during my stay. The woman next to me often has outbursts where the most clever obscenities pour from her like a volcanic eruption.”

  Her words did not amuse him. Instead, he’d been reminded that she’d spent the last eight years locked up with real lunatics. She could have been hurt.

  Suddenly, a scent reached his nostrils, one that made dread pool in his belly. Manchester vampires. The lord’s second among them. Justus had spied upon them and studied their movements ever since he came here to search for Bethany.

  “I have to go,” he whispered. “I will return tomorrow after sunset.”

  “But Justus…” she protested.

  Time ran out. Just as the Manchester vampires neared the grounds of the asylum, Justus leapt across the parapet to another gargoyle downwind from them and scrambled behind it before he was in eyeshot.

  Their voices reached his sensitive ears, even though they were still quite some distance away.

  “I swear, Chester, I smelled a rogue nearby,” one said.

  “And I’m telling you, I didn’t smell anything, Carl,” the vampire who must be Chester replied. “I’m forty years older than you, so my senses are sharper.” Their footsteps drew closer until Justus heard one of them tap the wrought iron gate. “Besides, what would one be doing around here? The only prey around is locked in the madhouse, where one can’t sink their fangs into them. And why would anyone want to? I don’t want to be infected by their madness.”