by Brooklyn Ann
Just as she was dreading donning her filthy shift, a soft knock sounded on the door. The maid pushed her behind a privacy screen before answering. Bethany’s shoulders relaxed as she heard Justus’s voice. He’d returned to her safely after all.
The maid murmured something before closing the door. “His Nibs brought you clean clothing. He should have thought of that before your bath, but you know how men are.”
Bethany bit back a chuckle. He couldn’t have done so because she’d had no clean clothes. She wondered where he’d gotten them even as gratitude welled in her being as she beheld the soft wool stockings, linen chemise, navy cotton dress, and a rich dark green cloak. In her old life, such garments were far from elegant, but now she thought them luxurious in their usefulness.
She rejoined Justus in the hall as the maid tried to prod them to stay the night. The lush bed in the room Bethany bathed in beckoned her like a song. But she knew that Justus wouldn’t be safe in such a room. Not to mention the fact that they weren’t married… unless he’d told the innkeeper otherwise. From the lack of censure she’d received, he must have.
Bethany closed her eyes as she remembered Justus’s declaration that he still intended to wed her… and her response of being uncertain. She imagined being his wife in truth, a warm flush suffusing her at the thought of being joined with him before cold uncertainty doused the fantasy. They had no home to build together, and he could not make her a vampire… not yet.
Furthermore, she did not know if she was ready to become a vampire when she was only now relearning how to be a normal person.
Her lips quirked upwards in a sardonic smile. She never would be normal.
But perhaps that was all right. Hand on Justus’s arm, she walked with him outside of the inn and back into the unknown.
Chapter Twenty
Justus couldn’t stop glancing at Bethany as they walked through the dark, sleepy village, an ache burrowing deep in his heart every time he beheld her beloved face and form. The memory of her reaction to his insistence that they wed echoed in his mind, a relentless litany of rejection. True, she hadn’t outright rejected him, but after years of imagining their wedding, the night he would at last be joined to her, physically and emotionally, her blatant uncertainty and wish to wait still stung and filled him with fear. What if after they became reacquainted, as she wished, she then decided she no longer loved him?
Another thought speared his soul like an icicle. What if she already no longer loved him?
As if sensing his turmoil, Bethany looked up at him, tenderness and trust radiating in her blue eyes. He forced a smile and took a deep breath. Her reasons for delaying wedlock were indeed practical. For now, he had no way of securing a special license to permit a legal nighttime ceremony and dismiss with reading the banns, and Gretna Green was in the opposite direction of their destination. Besides, what kind of wedding could they have on the run? Surely she deserved better than a covert ceremony and a quick dash to some cellar or crypt to spend their wedding night.
His shoulders slumped. She deserved so much more than he was able to offer her.
But at least he’d freed her from that dreadful asylum. Her talk of hours in a cell, deprived of books and company, made him want to run back to Manchester and dash that mad doctor’s brains into the wall. How strong she must have been, to suffer such isolation and deprivation and not have her mind broken.
His lips curled in a self-deprecating sneer. And here he was, sulking because she hadn’t leaped for joy at the prospect of rushing to the altar. Of course she needed time to grow accustomed to the world around her after her long imprisonment. He was an ass of gargantuan proportions. Hell, he hadn’t even thought to fetch her shoes or food before breaking her free from the asylum.
At least that catastrophe had been rectified. She wore sturdy shoes, and while she was in the bath, Justus had fed on a barmaid before dashing out back and stealing clothes from the wash line outside of what looked like a prosperous home. He’d then played a quick game of cards with a group of merchants in the back room of the inn and now had a few pounds to be able to buy more food. Stealing was easy, but it came with too much danger. Do it too often, and even the dimmest human would realize something was amiss. Not only that, but taking from others usually left a bad taste in his mouth. Who knew if a person had been reduced to their last shilling? But using his preternatural senses to best men at the gambling table? That never so much as pricked his conscience. Only fools played hazard with their coin over a silly deck of cards.
As if reading his mind, Bethany gazed up at him. “Where did these clothes come from?”
He chuckled and told her the tale.
Her eyes widened. “How did you do that so fast?”
“You’ve seen how fast I can be.” He grinned. “Now our next goal is to find shelter before dawn, so we shall have to run once we’re away from town.”
She sighed. “And I was so enjoying walking on my own.” Suddenly, she frowned. “Were you able to feed?”
He nodded, but didn’t tell her that ideally he should feed once more before dawn. That was another challenge of being a rogue. Balancing the need to hunt with finding safe shelter. He prayed the next place he found would be better than a crypt.
Thankfully, it was. An old cave whose previous inhabitant, some sort of animal, had long since vacated. After inspecting it to make certain it went deep enough to avoid the light, Justus led Bethany inside and quickly built a fire before going back out and gathering soft grass and moss to make a bed of sorts.
“I could have done that,” she told him as she laid the blanket on the nest he’d built.
“No need for you to dirty your hands,” Justus said, pleased that she looked far more comfortable than the previous evening, no longer shivering. “I enjoy caring for you.”
Something flashed in her eyes before she gave him a tremulous smile. “Thank you.” She removed the water skin from his pack and took a drink before removing the sandwiches he’d made her, the blunderbuss, and other objects that hindered the pack’s use as a pillow. “We are still heading south?”
Justus nodded and built up the fire. “We should reach Shrewsbury tomorrow. That should place us a third of the way to Cornwall, though I wonder if it would be safer to cross into Wales for a time, despite the delay that could cause. The nights are growing shorter, so I hope for us to be settled before June.”
“I hope for us to be settled at all.” Bethany’s gaze hardened on the fire before softening when she looked back at him. “Tell me about your time as a rogue.”
He took a deep breath and answered carefully, acknowledging the dangers of pursuit, while interlacing his tale with amusing incidents and sights he’d seen on his travels, such as the time he’d come across a troupe of travelling actors stranded in the mud and spent an evening helping them free their carriage while they all took turns acting out A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and an incident where he’d blackmailed a vampire who he’d seen visiting another territory without a writ of passage.
As he sensed the deadly approach of sunrise, Bethany patted the blanket beside her. “Lay beside me?”
Justus regarded her a moment. Her hair lay across his pack, gleaming gold in the firelight. Those large blue eyes glittered with an exquisite blend of warmth and intelligence. And her figure, he’d tried not to notice it, but now that she was garbed in that form-fitting dress, his gaze would not stop trailing over her body. Bethany’s curves had rounded further in some areas and slimmed in others since she was a maid of seventeen. At twenty-five, they’d become sculpted, the epitome of womanhood. Though she was much too thin from her imprisonment.
Desire roared through him in a blazing inferno. Memories of those soft curves pressed against him last morning, her tender kisses, and the potent scent of her arousal made his cock harden with need.
It had been agony not to make love to her then. But what kind of a monster would he be to ravish a maiden in the ruins of a crypt or a dark cave? He wanted thei
r first joining, and every joining thereafter to be perfect.
Though the temptation was excruciating, Justus was helpless in the face of her soft plea. Unable to deny the pleasure of holding her, he lay down next to her and pulled her into his arms, breathing a sigh at the warmth of her body. They spoke in hushed tones before drifting off to sleep.
Justus’s rest was broken and plagued with worry. Not for the first time did he wonder if Cornwall was the best course. The Lord Vampire there was often called the “Devil Earl” by mortals, and “Mad Deveril” by vampires across the British Isles.
Had Gavin been right in recommending Justus go to such a vampire for solace? Alas, he and Bethany had no other option. At least Cornwall was a coastal region with many ships that could carry them away. That would open a whole new set of challenges, but he didn’t want to think that far ahead unless he had to.
Instead, he cradled Bethany in his arms, listening to her relaxed breathing and silently vowed that he would do everything in his power to ensure her safety during their journey and ever after.
When they awoke in the late afternoon, Justus felt slightly more optimism. Perhaps it was because Bethany appeared content eating her sandwiches rather than starving until nightfall as she had previously. ...Though haunted shadows still lurked beneath her eyes and her fingers held a faint tremor.
Once more, they talked about books until nightfall, forming concrete plans to find a library or bookseller at the next town or village.
When they left the cave, Justus frowned as he realized they were further from civilization than he’d expected. He ran with Bethany as long as he could, but aside from an isolated cluster of small farms, nothing promising lay in sight.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, chasing away his previous high spirits.
But Bethany lifted her skirts and trotted over to a vegetable garden, gathering up radishes, turnips, asparagus, and various leafy greens.
“I feel like a rabbit,” she said with a giggle, loading the pack. Her hands trembled slightly and there was a feverish glaze in her eyes.
Yet she looked so cheerful that his concern abated. He felt like a fool for not considering gardens in the first place. Years ago, his tenants had harvested Spring vegetables and it hadn’t even occurred to him that they would be in abundance. Some provider he was turning out to be.
His self-flagellation ceased as he scented the presence of other vampires. They burst out of a copse of trees, surrounding him. Justus counted three.
“And who might you be?” one vampire asked, eyeing Bethany warily.
“Just travelers, passing through,” Justus answered, taking advantage of their reluctance to reveal what they were to a mortal.
“We know better than that,” the second one snarled before turning to Bethany. “Is this man bothering you?”
Bethany took Justus’s arm and lifted her chin with all her haughty aristocratic upbringing. “He is doing no such thing. Now let us pass.”
The Cheshire vampire glared at her. “I’m afraid I cannot allow that. This gent needs to come with us for a spell. Now run along home, woman. This is no place for you.”
“My home is with him,” Bethany said, and threw a turnip.
The dirt-coated vegetable struck the vampire’s forehead, making the others step back in shock. Justus wasted no time in taking advantage of the distraction she afforded. He lifted Bethany in his arms and ran as fast as his vampiric speed would allow.
Another crack of thunder sounded before rain came pouring down in sheets. Despite the discomfort, Justus thanked the heavens for it, because rain would obscure his scent. His body protested running so soon without having fed, but he urged himself forward.
He didn’t know how long he pressed on, how many miles passed before the sense of his pursuers no longer lurked behind him. He carried Bethany another few paces before he slowed and set her down, panting with exhaustion. She stumbled and he reached out a hand to steady her.
She murmured thanks and sat, cupping her face with her hands, shivering. “I’m so dizzy. I thought you’d never stop. How far did we come?”
“I don’t know,” Justus said, shoulders still heaving. “At least three miles.” He looked up and bit back a curse. They’d gone further into the wilderness instead of towards a town as he’d hoped. Many a time had he been able to lose himself in a crowd of humans and have a bite before moving on to another territory long before those chasing him found his trail.
And though he’d lost these pursuers, there were no humans nearby to provide sustenance. The pouring rain plastered his hair to his skull, soaked through his clothes, and ran in icy runnels down his spine. Bethany’s discomfort had to be worse, with the encumbrance of skirts. His chest tightened with sympathy as he watched her rub her arms in vain attempt to warm herself. She shook like a leaf.
He sighed in resignation. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d gone without food, and he needed to get Bethany out of the rain.
“Are you all right?” she asked softly as they walked deeper into the woods.
“I’m fine,” he said. “We need to find a way out of this rain.”
She nodded in agreement, shivering. “I just wish I could see where we are going.”
That was right, her night vision wasn’t as good as his. Another pang of worry and impotent frustration speared him at his throwing her into such a situation. “Don’t worry, I’ll guide you through.”
The boughs of the trees provided a semblance of shelter from the pattering rain. Justus held tight to Bethany’s hand, warning her when to duck, or step over a hole or large stone. He hated the sound of her teeth chattering, the panic in her eyes as they darted sightlessly in every direction. Never had he been more tempted to throw caution to the wind and Change her. Then she could see. Then she could run.
But if he did so, she would be a rogue and hunted as he was. Dejection gnawed in his belly, easing slightly when they came upon an abandoned hovel. Half the roof was missing, but at least it would provide some shelter.
“You sit in here, and I’ll try to find some dry wood,” he said over his shoulder.
“Let me help.” She shifted as if to stand.
He shook his head. “No. You are soaked to the skin. I don’t want you to fall ill. Besides, you can’t see out there.”
Her lower lip thrust out mutinously, but she didn’t argue. Justus went back out in the rain, and between foraging for dry wood, he also found a dried out well he could burrow inside to hide from the sun’s deadly rays.
That would mean leaving Bethany alone for the day, but he didn’t know what else he could do. Returning to the hovel, he built a meager fire.
“You should take off that wet cloak,” he told her, willing the small flames to grow.
She did so, hanging the sodden garment from a splintered beam. “And you should feed from me.”
With the cloak unfastened, her throat gleamed smooth and succulent in the firelight. Hunger roiled in his belly as he licked his fangs.
“I won’t.” The words came out more hesitant than he’d have liked.
She crossed the room and placed her hands on his shoulders, rising up on her toes. “But you must. You’re hungry and your strength is flagging.”
God, she smelled so good and sweet. Memories of the last time he fed from her haunted him, mercilessly. His upper lip peeled back of its own volition, revealing his fangs. Biting back a growl, he gently pushed her back. “I said no. I can find other food. A rat, an owl, maybe a deer.”
Her lips twisted in revulsion. “A rat?”
Face hot with embarrassment, he nodded stiffly. “One does what one needs to survive.”
Bethany’s gaze softened. “I realize that, but truly, you don’t have to resort to rodents. I’m right here.”
“I don’t want to drain you.” His hunger was so fierce that his eyes tracked her like prey, saliva filling his mouth at the thought of her taste. “Now get back near the fire and dry off. I’ll see if there’s a stream or pond ne
arby to refill the water skin.”
She nodded sullenly and withdrew a radish from the pack. “Will you fill that with water as well?” She pointed to a chipped and dusty crock in the corner. “I may be able to boil the turnips.”
Justus looked at the ancient thing doubtfully. Would it even hold water? But she looked so pitiful that he couldn’t refuse her again. “Of course.”
Before temptation overwhelmed him, Justus left the crude shelter and went out into the rainy night. Through the patter of raindrops, he did indeed detect the gurgle of a nearby stream. At last, something went right this night. Even better, he found a doe drinking from the moonlit water. No rats after all.
He set down the crock and was on the deer in a flash. Since he was unable to bespell it with his gaze, the damned creature bucked and kicked like a wild stallion, but Justus held tight and sank his fangs into its furry throat, drinking long and deep.
When Justus released the doe, she remained still and trembling before cautiously hobbling away, as if unable to believe she’d lived. Too bad he and Bethany lacked the time and resources to smoke and transport the meat, else he’d have butchered the deer. He did hope he hadn’t weakened the poor creature so it would be taken down by a wolf, but he’d needed the meal. It wasn’t enough to fully restore his strength. Only human blood provided all the nutrients his kind required, but he still felt ten times better than he had after fleeing from the Cheshire vampires.
Were they in Shrewsbury yet? He tried to calculate how far they’d traveled as he washed the dirty crock in the stream before filling it, surprised the vessel did not leak.
After filling the water skin and walking a quarter mile circle around Bethany’s shelter, he had no answer as to their whereabouts, but he did at least see what looked like a path to civilization off in the distance. Hopefully a town or even a small village.
When he returned to Bethany, the sky was already growing lighter. He watched her lifting her feet one in turn to dry her stockings by the fire and wanted nothing more than to curl up against her warmth. Damn these shortening nights. Dawn would come in little more than an hour.