by Brooklyn Ann
After he set her down, he rummaged through his pack and pulled out a blanket.
“Thank you,” Bethany whispered as he wrapped it around her shoulders.
“I’ll build a fire,” he said and searched for his matches. In the darkness he could make out shapes that he hoped were wooden boards. He could fetch some from above, but he didn’t want to leave her.
Matches secure, Justus gathered up all the scraps of wood in the crypt and built a fire at the base of the stone steps so the smoke would vent up and out. Others may smell it, but he’d deal with that then. Now his only concern was seeing to Bethany’s comfort.
Once a little blaze was going, he cringed at the sight of the dusty, cobweb laden crypt. Eight years ago, he never would have dreamed of bringing a debutante to such a hideous place. But for their own safety, he had no choice.
He turned back to see Bethany lying on the slab, huddled in his blanket. Unease trickled down his spine as he noticed her bare feet. She’d need shoes, clothes, food.
For the first time since he set on his course to free her and take her to Cornwall, Justus experienced a wave of doubt. How could he expect to care for her when he was a rogue vampire, having to avoid both the sun and other vampires?
Chapter Nineteen
Bethany dreamed of the quiet room, cold and enclosed, screaming for help, but none came. She curled into a ball and shivered until she heard Keene’s brisk footsteps coming down the hall. The knob on the quiet room door rattled and turned…
She awoke, sore and muzzy-headed. But even though the surface she lay on was cold and hard, her back felt deliciously warm. As awareness imbued her, she noticed the well-muscled arm draped around her waist, and locks of deep red hair draped around her shoulder.
Happiness swelled her heart to bursting. Justus had saved her from the prison of Morningside last night, from Dr. Keene’s abominable tonics and Greeves’s lechery. Not only was she finally released from that abominable asylum, she was also reunited with her love at last.
She basked in the sheer bliss of it all for several moments before taking note of her surroundings. The dusty, crumbling stone chamber, dimly illuminated by the coals of a dying fire and a meager shaft of sunlight from the top of the stairwell on the far side of the room made stark reality rear its head.
They were in here because Justus was a vampire. He couldn’t go out in daylight. Furthermore, he was a rogue, hunted by others of his kind. And it was all her fault. If she hadn’t blurted that he was a vampire in front of her parents, and especially in front of Lord Tench, Justus wouldn’t have been exiled. Shame curdled her belly. How could he have forgiven her? Yet he had. And after eight years of misery, they were together again at last.
But now they were both fugitives. She prayed they’d be able to make it to Cornwall, and that the Lord Vampire there would indeed provide refuge. Their predicament was already far too precarious for her to be able to contemplate what would happen if he refused them. Justus had said they’d flee to the Americas in that case, but how would they secure passage on a ship, much less endure such a long voyage without him being exposed to the sun?
Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to be calm, for her relentless trembling to abate. Justus had a plan. He would know what to do. Just then, her stomach rumbled, reminding her of more pressing matters.
“We need to find food for you, but we have to wait until the sun goes down,” Justus said, and stroked her shoulder, easing her shivers. “I do have a skin of water to tide you over until then. I am so sorry not to have gathered victuals for you.”
The remorse in his voice tugged at her heart. She grasped his hand and snuggled against him, reveling in the warmth and security of his embrace. “It is not your fault. You did not know we would be departing last night.”
He eased them to a sitting position and adjusted the blanket around her. “Let me fetch you water and build the fire, and then we can plan our next move.”
Her body cried out with bereavement as he left the slab, though the promise of a warm fire and water for her parched throat were very welcome indeed. Lord, how it burned.
Justus handed her the waterskin and then walked around the chamber, gathering up scraps of rotting wood. Bethany took a deep drink of the blessedly cool water and nearly choked as she saw a human skull on the floor just below where her feet dangled.
“Where are we?” she asked, fighting a tremor in her voice.
“Beneath the ruins of an old church,” Justus replied as he lit a bit of tinder to start a fire. “The crypt, to be exact. I know it’s macabre, but it’s the safest choice.”
Orange light illuminated the dusty crypt as the blaze grew. Avoiding the skull, Bethany slipped off the slab to get closer to the fire. That’s when she noticed the oversized, but thick wool knee stockings covering her feet. He’d also covered her with his worn, but sturdy blue coat.
“Are these your stockings?” she asked.
He nodded. “Your feet were bare and cold. We’ll need to get some that fit you.” His frown deepened. “Shoes as well, but we have to wait until dusk.” He paced in the shadows, keeping far away from the patch of sunlight on the stairs, looking so forlorn and frustrated that she was compelled to cross the chamber and take his arm.
“I will be fine until then,” Bethany said, marveling at the firm muscles beneath his worn linen sleeve. “I’ve went without food longer at Morningside. Keene believed that fasting would clear one’s head of excess fancy.”
His eyes narrowed in fury. “That does not make it right.”
“Well, thanks to you, it is in the past.” Bethany tugged on his arm, trying to ignore the almost queasy gnawing of hunger in her stomach. “Come, sit by the fire with me.”
His expression relaxed slightly as he walked with her to the warm blaze. After bidding her to sit on the canvas pack, he sat beside her and took her hand. “I still cannot believe I’ve found you after all these years. All those days dreaming of holding you in my arms…” He sighed. “But always in much better accommodations.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. “The accommodations may be less than cozy, but at least this is real.”
His knuckles brushed her cheek as he looked down at her, his eyes impossibly green. “You’re right. Finally, it is real.” He lowered his head until his lips brushed hers.
Desire rushed through her body at his kiss, more potent and thrilling than her memories ever conjured. Bethany turned and pressed herself tighter against him, moaning as he pulled her fully into his embrace.
They kissed with all their pent up hunger from being separated for so many years. Grasping, touching, exploring each other with sustained longing. Bethany moaned in bliss as the tender place between her thighs pulsed with primal need. Of its own volition, her body moved until she was in Justus’s lap, his hardness pressing against that sweet, throbbing place.
Justus’s low growl sent tremors of exhilaration through her being. His tongue stroked hers, a forbidden and delicious dance. Bethany arched her hips against him, craving even more.
Abruptly, Justus pulled her off his lap and set her back down firmly, albeit gently beside him. “No,” he said in a rasping voice. “You are still a maid and a lady. I cannot dishonor you.”
“I’m no lady anymore,” Bethany ran her fingers through his crimson hair, in thrall with its softness.
He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You’ll always be a lady to me.”
“Does that mean you will never—” She broke off as her cheeks burned too much to finish.
He shook his head. “Not until we are wed.”
The seriousness of the word was like a splash of cold water on her ardor. “You still want us to be married?”
Justus frowned. “Yes. Do you no longer accept my proposal?”
“That is not what I meant,” Bethany said quickly. “That is… I’m not certain. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. I feel as if we should become reacquainted. Not to mention the fact that we are
both fugitives until we find some sort of sanctuary.”
Though he still appeared wounded by her words, he nodded. “You speak wisely.” Something alarming yet unreadable flickered in his eyes and he scooted away from her.
Hurt speared her chest. “You don’t want to be close to me because I wish to wait?”
Justus shook his head vigorously. “I want nothing more than to hold you, but my hunger is too strong to bear. Our long run last night took my strength. I’ll need to hunt as soon as the sun sets.”
Relief that he was not rejecting her bled away to concern at his plight. “Couldn’t you feed from me?”
“No,” he said so sharply that she flinched. “You’d be weakened even further.”
Bethany sighed. He had a point. Still, she hated feeling helpless, a burden, unable to help him. And more than ever she longed to pull him into her arms and offer comfort. But his glowing eyes, forbidding expression and glimpses of white, sharp fangs indicated that wouldn’t be the wisest course of action. “Well, what do you propose we do to pass the time?”
At last, his lips curved in a smile. “Your optimism is a balm on my soul. I have a few books in my pack that I’ve long wished to discuss.”
They spent the next four hours reading passages of Beowulf together and having a spirited discussion. If not for the hard floor they sat upon, the chill of the crypt, and the hunger in their bellies, everything would have been exactly as it was when they first met.
As the light at the top of the stairs shrank away, Justus closed the book and shook his head. “After we feed and clothe you, we’ll have to try to secure more books.”
Bethany nodded emphatically. “I was hardly ever allowed to read at Morningside. And the few books permitted were so dull that they seemed more punishment than escape.”
Justus’s jaw dropped. “They didn’t allow you to read?” he repeated, aghast.
“They thought most books would overstimulate me, make me hysterical,” she replied, downcast at the memories of deprivation of anything good or interesting.
“That is cruel beyond measure!” Justus nearly shouted. “To deprive you of one of the greatest and most harmless pleasures of mankind. How in the world did you endure it?”
“I think I went mad in truth.” She laughed shakily. “There was a raven that often perched by my window. I named him Percival and talked to him all the time. Until one day, a few months ago, he never returned. I was so lonely after that.”
His hand covered hers. “You’ll be lonely no longer. Not as long as I am with you.” He rose to his feet, pulling her up with him. “Dusk has fallen. We will procure food for us both, but first there is one thing I must do.”
“What?” she asked, then gasped as he punctured his index finger and held the bleeding digit towards her.
“I need to feed you a few drops of my blood.”
She frowned. “But I thought you needed to drink blood.” Another thought occurred. “Are you going to Change me into a vampire now?” She wasn’t certain she was ready for that.
He chuckled. “No. This is so if we are separated, I will be able to find you. I’d rather Mark you completely, but that would be too dangerous at this time.”
“Mark me?” she asked.
“I’ll explain in a moment.” He pressed his bleeding finger to her lips. “Hurry, before the wound closes.”
Scrunching up her nose, Bethany opened her mouth and allowed Justus’s blood to flow across her tongue. The subtle, mineral-like taste wasn’t as bad as she’d feared, but the electric spark on her tongue was alarming indeed. When he withdrew his finger, she licked her lips and frowned. “What was that jolting sensation?”
Justus shrugged. “Some sort of magic, I suppose. The blood forges a connection between us, so if we are separated, I’ll be able to find you. But since I didn’t say the words, or give you enough blood, the effect is only temporary. Usually this method used so vampires can tell whether or not a human has been fed on, so we don’t accidentally drain a person.”
“Your blood has magic?” she repeated with fascination.
“Yes. It also has the ability to heal wounds, so after feeding, we use our blood to heal the puncture marks from our fangs, which also creates the temporary Mark.”
“What of the permanent Mark?” she prodded.
“That Mark is used to declare a mortal to be under a vampire’s protection,” Justus explained. “I cannot yet give it to you, for the vampires would then know that you’re Marked by a rogue and they would follow you to hunt me down.”
Her eyes widened. “That would be very bad.” Without Justus, Lord knew how long she’d be able to survive on the run. Not only that, but she’d have nowhere to go. And of course, the thought of losing him again filled her with terror.
Justus slung the straps of his pack over his shoulders and held out his hand. “Shall we go?”
Bethany nodded emphatically as her stomach growled. She was so hungry she could eat an entire side of beef. Furthermore, she’d be happy to never see this dismal crypt again. Justus’s fingers entwined with hers as he carefully guided her up the cracked stairs. The strong, yet gentle touch made heat unfurl in her belly. Until last night, their hands had almost always been gloved, impeding contact.
The moon hung bright and full in the sky, the scent of wildflowers heady in the night air. There was even something beautiful about the ruins of the church, an echo of another time. Bethany’s heart sang with joy to be out here with Justus rather than alone in her cell at Morningside. Yet she tried to keep her jubilance suppressed, as she watched Justus glancing over his shoulder and studying their surroundings with studied concentration. They were still in danger.
“We’ll go east,” Justus said quietly. “I don’t sense anyone in that direction.” They only walked a few yards before he suddenly scooped her up in his arms. “I’d forgotten. You need shoes.”
Although being in Justus’s arms gave her a rush of pleasure, Bethany resented feeling like a burden to be carried. She only hoped they would find some food soon, before hunger made her light-headed.
He ran with his preternatural speed, and this time she kept her eyes open, watching the world rush by in a blur and feeling the wind on her cheeks as they passed acres of wilderness, then farmland before Justus stopped at the edge of a town. The streets were fairly busy with people heading home from their workdays, or going to a pub or assembly hall for an entertaining evening.
The sight made Bethany dizzy. It had been so long since she’d seen this many people in any semblance of normal behavior. Now her mind reeled with it all. Would she ever grown accustomed to the world again?
“Shouldn’t you put me down?” Bethany asked.
Justus shook his head. “I have a plan.”
Bethany tried to hide her flushed face behind her hair at all the stares as Justus walked down the main street carrying her. She must look a fright with her disheveled hair, oversized stockings, no shoes, and a man’s coat over her plain linen frock from the asylum.
Justus paid no attention to the scrutiny as he marched across the lane to a cobbler’s shop. After he knocked on the door, a squinting man answered with an irritated frown.
“Pardon me, do you have any ladies’ shoes?” Justus asked with a smile. “My dear fiancé’s were thrown in the pond by a group of ruffians.”
The cobbler’s features softened. “Oh dear. The youths these days. Come inside and I’ll see what I’ve got. Do you have the coin?”
“No,” Justus replied while fixing the man with an intent stare. “But you will help us all the same.”
Bethany expected the cobbler to slam the door in their faces, but instead his eyes glazed over and a bemused smile lifted his narrow lips. “Yes,” he said dully. “I will help you.”
With the same distracted air, he opened the door further and went inside. Justus followed behind, watching as the cobbler lit lanterns throughout the shop. When Bethany’s gaze lit on the plethora of shoes, a bittersweet wave engulfed
her heart. How long had it been since she’d seen such simple, yet crucial items on display? How many years since she’d even thought of the shops she’d visited with her mother?
The cobbler cleared his throat. “Miss? If you’ll sit on the stool, I can measure your feet.”
To her disappointment, the fetching pair of black leather shoes were not in her size, but perhaps it was for the best, as the brown leather half boots she donned were far sturdier. She thanked the man profusely before she and Justus left the shop.
“That was so kind of him to give me shoes,” she said. “But I wonder why he decided to do so. He looked so odd when he said he’d help.”
“I didn’t give him a choice,” Justus said tightly. “I bent him to my will.”
She gasped. “You can do that?”
“Yes. It is how we are able to feed without people remembering,” he explained, his features wavering as if confessing to a sin. “Speaking of, it is time for us to have nourishment.”
They walked to a nearby inn, where Justus instead used his ability to make the proprietor believe they’d handed him money. A large plate of roast beef and potatoes was set before Bethany. The savory aroma rendered her oblivious to the rest of the world. She took her first bite and bit back a moan of pleasure. Years ago, she would have disdained inn fare, with it being so greasy and salty, but after years of bland porridge and dry toast, this meal tasted like it was served from the King’s table.
Alas, her stomach was so shrunken from not eating for so long that she could only finish half the meal. Justus took her dinner rolls, sliced them in half, and made cunning little sandwiches before wrapping them in the napkin and stowing them in his pack. He then beckoned a maid and ordered a bath for Bethany.
“I have to leave you for a few minutes,” he told her as the maid beckoned her up the stairs to a room.
Bethany understood. He still needed his meal. Yet that didn’t stop dread from crawling up her throat throughout the entire bath as she waited for him to return. Her senses remained rattled at being back in the world, amongst strangers, and the clamorous noise of humanity drifting up from the rooms below. Though she had to admit, the steaming water felt heavenly and being clean after a night in a dusty crypt was pure bliss.