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

by Brooklyn Ann

  Justus inclined his head. “Justus de Wynter, formerly Second in command to the Lord of Rochester. And this is my bride to be, Bethany Mead.” He ignored Bethany’s nudge on his ribs at omitting mention of their Roma wedding ceremony. It wouldn’t be good for Emrys or the Lord of Cornwall to know he’d preempted his whole purpose for being here.

  “Bride to be, eh?” Emrys appraised Bethany coolly. “His Lordship will decide about that. Come along.”

  To Justus’s vexation, the vampire placed himself between him and Bethany. She shot Justus an alarmed look, which he answered with the slightest shake of his head. They could not risk coming off as troublesome.

  They walked with Emrys up the hill, the other vampires in the distance making a discreet perimeter, who may have escaped the eye of a less seasoned rogue vampire. Justus felt a touch of respect for Deveril’s efficient method even as he realized such a strategy would have been his downfall had he not wanted to get caught.

  Was it possible that Gavin had lied to him? Or perhaps Lord Deveril was not as welcoming as Gavin had thought. Justus’s heart sank as a thousand dismal possibilities flitted through his mind.

  Emrys cast them suspicious glances while they walked, as if they’d change their minds on surrendering and bolt at any moment.

  Suddenly, tension bled into the air around him as a sense of deep power thudded in his bones. Justus grasped the reason for the sense just as the surrounding vampires melted further into the shadows.

  Emrys grasped Justus’s and Bethany’s arms, halting them as a tall figure emerged from the shadows of a copse of trees.

  Justus’s eyes widened at his first sight of the Lord of Cornwall. He’d heard the man was tall and unconventional-looking, but the gossips hardly did the vampire credit. At six and a half feet tall, he towered above them. His slender frame conveyed a sense of tightly-coiled speed and power rather than frailty, and his silvery blond hair looked more ethereal than earthly.

  “Justus de Wynter,” Lord Deveril said in his musical Cornish accent with an unreadable half smile. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  “Is that a good thing or a bad thing, my lord?” Justus asked cautiously.

  Deveril frowned as if he thought the question to be insolent. “That remains to be seen.” He turned to Emrys. “Give me the woman.”

  Justus lurched forward and was stopped by the two other Cornwall vampires who’d been drawing nearer all this time.

  Deveril’s eyes narrowed in irritation and he shook his head in a chiding manner. “That is no way to behave to one who you hope to be your lord.” His long fingers closed over Bethany’s shoulders and she stiffened at his touch. “There is no time for us to walk to my castle, so we must run. I am only ensuring that you follow.” He turned Bethany to face him, forced her chin up so he could capture her gaze and whispered, “Sleep.”

  As her knees buckled, Lord Deveril lifted her into his arms, holding her far too close for Justus’s liking. He bit back a possessive growl.

  “Now, now,” Deveril said softly. “I mean her no harm. You truly should have waited to Mark her, if it means you cannot control yourself.” He sighed. “The hour grows late. We shall talk at the castle.” With that he took off in a blur, moving faster than any vampire Justus had ever seen.

  The sight ripped Justus’s heart from his chest. He and Emrys took off after Deveril, keeping pace with each other, but quickly losing sight of the Lord Vampire. He was simply too fast and too powerful, even though as far as Justus had heard, they were close to the same age. With a sinking heart, Justus knew that if it came to a fight between the two, he would lose badly.

  When he and Emrys at last stopped, foreboding filled Justus as he looked up at the ancient castle. The dark clouds obscuring the moon engulfed the structure in shadows. Deveril stood before the arched stone entrance, a rusted iron portcullis raised above his head, looking like it could slam down at any moment.

  But that sight wasn’t nearly as unnerving as seeing his Bethany unconscious and cradled in another vampire’s arms.

  “How did you know I was coming?” Justus asked in effort to reign in his temper.

  “Rochester sent me a letter awhile back, as well as some of your personal effects, should I decide to take you in.” Deveril frowned. “Rather presumptuous of him to ask me to provide sanctuary for a vampire he himself exiled. One who has committed a serious crime.” He looked down at Bethany. “And who is committing it once again even as we speak. Presumptuous and arrogant indeed, given that Rochester’s and my interactions haven’t been all that congenial.”

  “I knew nothing about Gavin’s letter,” Justus said quickly. “If my presence is not to your liking, we can leave.”

  Deveril chuckled. “No, you cannot flee so easily. It is still my duty to detain those who violate our laws. Besides, I am curious to hear of what caused a vampire who served as a loyal second in command and valuable spy to one of the most ruthless vampires in England to fall so far from grace.”

  Justus’s gut sank further. His hope for an end to his and Bethany’s peril faded by the minute.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Bethany opened her eyes with a jolt. She found herself sprawled in an overstuffed chair beside an unlit fireplace in an ancient castle solar, decorated with paintings and tapestries. Before her mind could dwell on the beauty, she bolted upright, heart in her throat when she realized it was not Justus who sat beside her.

  She couldn’t suppress a gasp at her first sight of the Lord Vampire of Cornwall in the light. He was abnormally tall and lanky, with hair like spun moonlight threaded with gold. He looked more like a creature from the fey realm, more mystical and dangerous, than a human or even the vampire that he was. A sword hung on his belt and she had no doubt he could unsheathe it before she could blink.

  “Ah, h-how do you do, my lord?” she stammered, wishing she had the courage to demand where Justus was.

  “Miss Mead,” Lord Deveril leaned back and smirked in amusement at her visible relief when she saw Justus sitting on his right. “Lord de Wynter has been telling me about how you two met, and the ensuing disasters that occurred.”

  Justus’s lips tightened in a grim smile. Her belly knotted. He didn’t look as if their petition was going well.

  “None of it was his fault,” she said louder than she intended. How could Justus continue to be blamed for her mistake?

  “Oh, I think it was,” Lord Deveril said mildly. “Had he not told you what he was, you wouldn’t have blurted it to your suitor.”

  Bethany flinched. Would he then lock Justus up? Or worse, execute him?

  “However,” Deveril continued, “I understand that no one took your outburst seriously. Furthermore, Lord de Wynter was punished for his crime. And so were you.”

  Hope bloomed in her chest. “Does that mean you’ll allow us to stay?”

  The Lord Vampire of Cornwall sighed. “I am not certain yet. Taking in a vampire who served as second to another Lord, a vampire who should have known better than to commit such a dangerous indiscretion… I am unsure whether that is a risk that I want to undertake. Yet to banish him would simply pass the danger to someone else. And then there is you. A human who knows about vampires must either become one or be killed if their memory cannot be erased. Something must be done with you both.” He steepled his long fingers and stared at the candle flames. “For the time being, you will remain here as my guests under observation.”

  Bethany and Justus exchanged knowing glances. Guests certainly meant prisoners.

  “A room has been prepared for you and—”

  “Oh, there you are!” A beautiful, black-haired woman who looked younger than Bethany entered the solar. She wore a canvas smock splattered with paint. “You did not tell me we had guests.”

  Bethany blinked at the woman’s American accent, then frowned at the intent way in which Justus was studying her.

  Lord Deveril, meanwhile, looked almost abashed. “Lydia… this is not a very good time for introduction
s. Did Emrys not tell you to wait in the study?”

  “No. I didn’t see him when I came in.” Lydia frowned. “Vincent, is something wrong?”

  “Bloody hell,” Deveril growled.

  Justus startled them all by laughing. “When did you get married, Deveril?”

  “Three years ago,” Vincent replied gruffly, though the ghost of a besotted half smile curved his lips when he looked at his wife. “I am surprised you did not hear of it.”

  “I was on the run,” Justus said flatly. “I’ve missed much that has happened over the last eight years. Though I did hear of the Lord of London’s scandalous marriage.” He straightened in his seat, his uncertainly replaced with confidence and a touch of amusement. “Tell me, was yours nearly as legally precarious?”

  Vincent heaved a sigh. “The marriage itself? No. An incident during our courtship, however, invoked the wrath of the Elders.” His stern frown returned. “Which is why I am eager to keep further trouble from my domain.”

  “Trouble? We’re certainly accustomed to that.” Lydia perched on the arm of his chair and twirled her finger around a lock of her husband’s long silvery hair. “Now are you going to tell me who these people are, and what sort of trouble they bring?”

  Vincent sighed and inclined his head toward Justus. “This is Justus de Wynter, Viscount de Wynter, formerly second in command to the Lord of Rochester, and now a rogue exiled for revealing our secrets to a mortal.” He turned to Bethany with a humorless smile. “This is Miss Bethany Mead, daughter of the Baron of Wickshire, and the mortal in question. Ah, and she is an escaped patient from Morningside lunatic asylum, though de Wynter insists that she is quite sane.”

  Lydia’s jaw dropped as she stared at Bethany with light brown eyes that appeared gold. “Why were you committed?”

  “For telling Lord Tench that Lord de Wynter was a vampire when I was drugged with laudanum.” Saying it aloud made it sound even more foolish. “I’d fallen from my horse that morning.”

  “Oh my!” Lydia breathed. “And you were in there for eight whole years? You poor thing!”

  Bethany’s throat tightened at such sincere sympathy from a stranger. Perhaps she could sway Lady Deveril into persuading her husband to let them stay. As she observed the sweet, young countess, a thought occurred to her. She turned back to the earl. “Begging your pardon, my lord, but isn’t your countess human?”

  Lady Deveril laughed, revealing tiny pointed fangs. “No, I am just so young that I do not yet convey that otherwordly power that my dear husband does.” She turned those intent golden eyes on Justus. “Why haven’t you Changed Miss Mead yet?”

  Justus spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “Because if I do so without having a Lord Vampire grant me permission, I’d be breaking the law, and she would be a rogue like me, perhaps worse as she would be illegitimate.”

  Was it Bethany’s imagination, or did the Lord of Cornwall flush?

  Lady Deveril grasped her husband’s shoulders. “So you’ll make them citizens so Lord de Wynter can Change her and wed her, yes?”

  “I have not yet decided,” Vincent said. “It depends on—”

  Rapid footsteps echoed outside the solar before Emrys burst in. “The Lord of Gloucestershire is here. He claims that you are harboring his prisoners and demands that you turn them over to him at once.”

  Bethany’s hope vanished like a dandelion puff in the wind. Squire Ridley had followed them after all. Would the Lord of Cornwall turn them over to him? Ridley would kill them, she had no doubt about that.

  “His prisoners?” Vincent raised a brow and turned to Justus. “You did not tell me you were both arrested on your way here.”

  “Only I was arrested,” Justus said. “Bethany rescued me from his dungeons.”

  The Earl of Deveril gave Bethany an appraising look before rising from his seat and addressing his second. “And where is Squire Ridley?”

  “Still outside in the courtyard with his third in command,” Emrys said. “I told him to come back tomorrow evening, but he refuses to leave until you come to the door.”

  Vincent’s scowl deepened. “I hope it starts raining soon,” he muttered before turning to Justus and Bethany. “Follow me.”

  They left the solar, staying behind the earl and countess until Lord Deveril stopped at a door that opened onto a balcony. “Stay there,” he ordered to Justus, Bethany, and Emrys.

  The Earl and Countess of Deveril walked out onto the balcony and looked down. “Ridley, old chap,” he called out. “I am afraid this is not a good time. It is only three hours until sunrise, after all. Would you come back tomorrow evening?”

  “I will do no such thing!” Ridley’s petulant shout echoed against the parapets. “You are harboring my prisoners. I demand that you deliver them to me at once!”

  “And what prisoners would those be?” Deveril sounded bored.

  “Justus de Wynter and a blonde mortal woman.”

  Deveril leaned idly against the stone balcony. “What was de Wynter’s crime?”

  “He was a rogue trespassing in my lands.”

  The Lord of Cornwall shrugged. “And this woman’s?”

  The squire made an exasperated sound. “She shot my third in command!”

  Deveril lifted a brow. “Is that not your third standing beside you?”

  Ridley spluttered again. “He is healed, yes, but that does not change the fact that she attacked one of my people!”

  Deveril glanced over his shoulder. “Lord de Wynter, Miss Mead, come here.”

  On leaden legs, Bethany made her way onto the balcony, clinging to Justus’s hand. After coming this far, all was lost. Ridley and the vampire she’d shot would identify her right away. Something the Lord of Cornwall would not view in a charitable light.

  She peered over the edge of the stone balcony and got her first glimpse of Squire Ridley. He was exactly as she’d pictured him. Short of stature, gaudily dressed in a puce surcoat over canary yellow trousers, and a mustache so thin it looked like a caterpillar perched on his upper lip.

  “That’s the wench!” the other vampire roared, pointing at Bethany. “Peppered me with lead balls, she did!”

  Deveril regarded Bethany with an expression that was either amusement or disapproval. “Why did you shoot him?”

  “He was coming towards me with his fangs bared. I had to protect myself.” She didn’t know what else to say.

  “I see.” Vincent turned back to look over the parapet down at Ridley. “So he showed his fangs to a mortal and tried to attack her. It seems your third was the one violating the law, which caused me to arrange for her to be Changed sooner than I’d have preferred.” He gave Bethany a warning glance as he inclined his head toward Justus. “As for Lord de Wynter, he is no rogue. He’s a citizen of Cornwall who’d forgotten his writ of passage. So you see, you have no cause to take one of my people.”

  Bethany clung to Justus, hope blossoming in her soul. Was the Lord of Cornwall truly defending them and declaring them to be his people?

  “That chit is no youngling.” Ridley pointed. “She looks as human as my breakfast this evening.”

  “As does my lovely wife.” The earl put one long arm around his petite countess, tucking her against his side. “That is the way with younglings.”

  “You’re lying,” Ridley spat. “And that doesn’t change the fact that the woman broke into my home and stole one of my prisoners.”

  “A prisoner you were holding for no reason, as he is one of my people,” Lord Deveril fired back. “As for Miss Mead’s trespassing, which was truly a brave rescue, you should have had the human authorities handle her rather than revealing our secrets to her.”

  Ridley’s beady eyes bulged with rage. “She already knew! That bloody rogue told her. And she’s clearly still a human!”

  Deveril yawned. “I grow weary of this conversation, Ridley. Take yourself back to Gloucestershire and do not trouble me or my people again.”

  The Lord of Gloucestershire and hi
s third in command moved forward as if to charge the door. Five Cornish vampires blocked his path wielding swords.

  “Do you truly wish to risk a battle with me?” Deveril purred.

  The squire’s mustache twitched in impotent fury. “The Elders shall hear about this. And this time you will face more than a fine.” With a final huff of indignation, the Lord of Gloucestershire spun on his heel and marched off as if he’d been the one to deliver a crushing set down.

  Bethany slumped against Justus in relief. He grasped her shoulder and looked up at the Lord of Cornwall. “Thank you, my lord.”

  “Call me Vincent,” Deveril said tiredly. “And I didn’t do it for you. There is no way I would relinquish anything to that sanctimonious pipsqueak, not if I want to maintain my authority and the respect of my people and peers. I do not know who he bribed to become a Lord Vampire in the first place. He’s barely over a century old.”

  Bethany placed her hand on the ancient vampire’s forearm. “You told him we were citizens. Do you mean it?”

  He frowned down at her so severely that she snatched her hand back. “Ridley gave me no choice. I warn you, my decision is on a contingency basis only, provided the pair of you give me no more trouble than you already have. And as for you, you must be Changed immediately, before one of the Elders catches me in a lie.”

  “Immediately?” she squeaked, overwhelmed by the sudden paradigm shift. Just like that, her humanity would end.

  Vincent glowered at her. “I presumed you knew what wedding Lord de Wynter entailed.”

  “Oh, I do,” she said quickly. “It is just that I did not expect to happen so quickly after we arrived. I’d hoped for more time to prepare.”

  Unbelievably, Lady Deveril laughed. “Oh, sugar. Do not worry. I had far less time than you, and everything was all right.” She looked up at her husband. “May I have a few moments to talk with her and offer reassurances?”

  Vincent nodded. “I need to take Lord de Wynter to feed and wake up my solicitor to send for a Special License. And Miss Mead looks as if she could do with a bath and a hot meal.”