Although disheveled, she did not appear to be harmed, and allowing himself only a brief glance at her terrified countenance, he ruthlessly forced his ay fdishevelettention back to the furious Amadeus.
There was no time to assure himself that she was well and unharmed, he reminded himself grimly.
Not until she was free of Amadeus’s clutches.
“You have crossed all boundaries, Amadeus,” he growled in disgust. “Mist wraiths have been forbidden by all vampires. Do you possess no shame?”
The vampire offered Lucien an oddly haunted smile at the accusation. “Very little, I have discovered.”
Lucien could conjure no sympathy. Amadeus had brought this wicked compulsion upon himself. He had long ago turned his back on decency and integrity. It was too late to realize his desires had cost him his soul.
“Release Miss Kingly,” he commanded in cold tones.
“Unfortunately she has not yet given me what I need,” Amadeus retorted.
With a smooth motion Lucien reached beneath his jacket to reveal the deadly dagger. The blade glinted with a dangerous fire in the flickering light.
“Release her. Now.”
Amadeus gave a rasping laugh as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Really, Lucien, I must say I am rather surprised. I would have thought you would have lost interest in the chit long ago. You have never been very constant in your attentions.” He paused, his expression mocking. “How did you escape?”
Lucien hid a shudder at the icy pain that still lingered. “It is a long and rather tedious story.”
“No matter.” The vampire stepped forward. “I shall attend to your death myself. It will no doubt be far more satisfying.”
With slow, steady motions Lucien backed toward the woman stretched upon the table, careful to keep his attention upon the dangerous Amadeus. He had to release Jocelyn before the vampire could attack him.
He was far from certain that he was strong enough to fend him off for long.
“I fear that I cannot accommodate you. I have rather pressing business to attend to.”
Amadeus merely smiled with cruel amusement. “So it would seem.”
“It is not too late.” Lucien continued, desperate to keep the vampire off guard long enough to give Jocelyn a chance for freedom. “We can return to the Veil together.”
“Fool. I am beyond the petty rules of the Council. I will never return.”
“You will return or die.”
Amadeus moved toward him, his expression one of icy determination. “One of us will certainly die.”
Lucien backed into the table and heard Jocelyn stir. “Lucien?” she whispered.
Clutching the dagger, he struggled to clear his throbbing fear. It took a moment before he was able to at last reach out and touch her mind with his own.
“Jocelyn, lay still,” he urged as he carefully shifted so that he could use the dagger to slice through the ropes that bound her. Still keeping his gaze upon the vampire moving ever closer, he helped her to sit upright. “Can you move?”
“I think so.”
“Then get behind me.”
With awkward stiffness she half tumbled off the table and scurried behind his form. At the same moment Amadeus gave a grating laugh.
“You surely do not believe I will allow the Medallion to leave, do you, Lucien? I will kill her before I allow that to happen.”
Lucien once again reached out with his thoughts. “Jocelyn, listen to me carefully.”
“What?” she replied in the same manner.
“I want you to run from here as fast as you can. There is a horse waiting in the trees. Return to London and find Gideon Ravel. He will protect you.”
“No. I will not leave you.”
He gritted his teeth as the vampire neared. “Then we both will die. I cannot protect you and fight Amadeus at the same moment.”
“No.”
“Jocelyn, do as I say. The Medallion must be protected.”
“I do not care.”
“You will do this, Jocelyn.”
“I cannot.”
“Please, Jocelyn, I need you to be strong. You will do this for me.”
“I—” There was a reluctant pause. “Very well.”
Easily realizing that Lucien was plotting Jocelyn’s escape, Amadeus narrowed his gaze.
“Do not be a fool, Lucien. If you do not want the wench to die, then return her to the table.”
“If . . . if you insist.” Lucien slumped his shoulders as he turned toward Jocelyn, then with swift motions he was violently pushing her toward the door. “Run, Jocelyn. And don’t look back.”
She stumbled and nearly fell, but thankfully she managed to regain her balance and was hurriedly charging from the room and up the stairs.
“No,” Amadeus snarled, moving to follow her.
Lucien was just as swift. Leaping over the table, he placed himself in the vampire’s path with the dagger pointed straight at his heart.
“I do not think so, Amadeus.”
Coming to a reluctant halt, the vampire trembled with fury. “You have interfered for the last time, Lucien. I will kill you and then that stubborn whore.”
“You may try.”
A sneer twisted the thin lips. “You believe you can halt me? You remain weak from your life behind the Veil. You are no match for me.”
At the moment Lucien could not argue the truth of his words. He was still weakened from his earlier battle, and his wounds had not completely healed. To face a vampire filled with the power of bloodlust was no doubt foolish beyond measure.
Still, he knew that every moment he could keep Amadeus trapped in the cellar was precious. It meant that Jocelyn was one step closer to safety.
“Not so weak, Amadeus,” he softly taunted, shifting to ensure he blocked the door. “I managed to best the mist wraith.”
“Ah, yes. A pity I do not have the time to hear your remarkable story.”
Lucien shrugged. “We have all the time you desire. Perhaps we could have a nice chat over a fine bottle of wine.”
Amadeus lifted his brows at Lucien’s gracious words. “While Miss Kingly flees to the protection of Gideon and Sebastian? I think not.”
“Not even one drink to toast my soon-to-be demise?” Lucien prodded with a smile. “I have a very fine spirit in London if you would care to wait here while I retrieve it.”
As expected, the morose vampire gave a sniff of disdain at his levity. He had always condemned Lucien for his lack of proper dignity, seemingly offended by anyone who did not share his sullen darkness.
“Frivolous to the end, eh, Lucien?” he snarled.
Lucien smiled. “It is preferable to your grim lack of humor.”
Spreading his arms wide, Amadeus called upon his powers and began slowly to change into mist.
“We shall see if you are still laughing when I have finished with you,” he mocked in hollow tones.
Lucien tightly gripped the dagger and called upon his fading strength.
“We will, indeed,” he muttered, wincing as the mist struck out to cut deeply into his arm.
Jocelyn’s hands were raw and bleeding as she struggled to pull open the shutters that had been firmly nailed shut.
When she had fled the cellars, she had made it outside the gloomy castle and halfway to the nearby trees, when she staggered to a halt. She wanted to run. To hasten to the trees and find the awaiting horse so that she could return to the sanity of London.
Quite frankly she was terrified.
She had never been so agonizingly frightened in her life.
The ghastly Amadeus had devoted the past hour to revealing precisely how he would torture her. He had spoken of horrors beyond her imagination and pain she could never endure. For a time she had thought she might actually go mad from sheer fear.
Who could possibly blame her for seeking safety? She was no match for a vampire. And as Lucien had said, the Medallion must be kept out of the traitor’s hands. Nothing was more importa
nt.
This was not her battle. She should do as Lucien demanded and seek out Gideon Ravel to protect her.
But even as she had stumbled out the door, she had known she could not leave Lucien behind.
How could she? Whatever he was, whatever falsehood he had told her, she loved him. She loved him with a force that nearly consumed her.
If he were to die, then her own life would be meaningless.
And beyond that there was a rebellious part of her heart that condemned her cowardly flight.
No.
She would not be forced into walking away.
Not on this occasion, she suddenly told herself.
She had allowed herself to be humiliated out of society. To be condemned by her parents and thrown out of their lives.
Had she been older and wiser, she would never have given them such power over her. Nor would she have wasted so much of her life regretting what was no more than a mistaken trust in another.
She would prove to herself that she had changed. That she was now a woman who could face bravely whatever life chose to throw at her.
And so she had forced her reluctant feet to carry her back into the cramped vestibule.
That was when she had suddenly been struck with a dangerous plan.
She could not hope to match the vampire’s strength, but she could match his cunning. If only she could wrench free the shutters, then she would have the perfect weapon to battle a creature of the dark.
With a last jerk, the heavy shutter flung open. Jocelyn ignored her throbbing hands and glanced out the broken panes of the narrow window. Although darkness still shrouded the nearby woods, there was an undeniable glow of dawn upon the horizon.
From the stairs she could hear te cow. Ahe unmistakable sounds of a battle being waged, and her heart clenched in fear.
“Oh, Lucien, hold on,” she muttered in low tones, silently willing the sun to rise.
For what seemed to be an eternity she stood there trembling as she desperately watched for the first rays of sunlight to filter over the trees. And then, at long last, a bright glow washed over her and tumbled into the shadowed room.
Hurriedly turning about, Jocelyn moved through the slender beam of sunlight, bending down to make a distinct mark in the thick dust upon the flagstones. Then, just as swiftly, she pulled the shutter closed, careful to ensure that it appeared firmly nailed in place.
Only then did she turn toward the stairs and call out in a loud voice, “Amadeus. I have the Medallion. It is yours if you still desire it.”
There was a thick pause before she heard Lucien moan in dismay. “Jocelyn, no.”
“Yes, Lucien.” She did not need to feign the decided quaver in her voice. “I will not allow you to be harmed.”
“Bring me the Medallion,” Amadeus commanded.
“No.” Jocelyn sucked in a steadying breath, her nerves so raw that she could barely think straight. “You must first assure me that Lucien is able to leave without harm.”
“Of course.” The oily voice of the traitor moved closer to the stairs. “You have my word. Now bring me the Medallion.”
Jocelyn grimaced, wondering if the evil man truly thought she would accept his word. For heaven’s sake, he had kidnapped, tortured, and murdered without compunction. Why would he not lie?
“Not until Lucien is here beside me.”
She could hear a rasp of anger float through the air before the vampire was regaining command of his composure.
“Very well.” There was a faint rustling, and then Jocelyn could see Lucien making his way up the stairs, closely followed by Amadeus. Her breath caught at the bronze countenance that was cut and battered almost out of recognition. His lean body had fared no better, and his coat was tattered to reveal several wounds that were bleeding in an alarming manner. Smiling cruelly at her horrified expression, Amadeus held out his skeleton hand.
“Now. The Medallion.”
Jocelyn licked her suddenly dry lips, her heart painfully trapped in her throat. If her plot failed, then Lucien would be killed and she would once again be at the mercy of this horrid monster.
No, she firmly thrust the traitorous thoughts aside.
She would not fail.
Straightening her shoulders, she met the feverish gaze with a stubborn determination.
“Not until you have allowed Lucien to pass.” Amadeus snarled at her bravado. “I will endure no tricks.”
“No tricks.” Slowly she reached up to remove the Medallion from her neck and held it out.
“No, Jocelyn,” Lucien gasped.
She ignored his outburst as her gaze remained on the wary vampire. “Send him to me.”
There was a long pause before Amadeus reached out to push Lucien toward her. “Go to her.”
She forced herself to remain in place as Lucien painfully staggered forward, his hand covering a gaping wound that spilled blood over his fingers.
“Jocelyn,” he gasped weakly, his eyes glazed with agony, “do not do this.”
“I must, Lucien,” she said softly. “Forgive me.”
“No. . . .”
“Enough,” the vampire growled, moving forward with an icy fury. “I will have the Medallion.”
Jocelyn gave a nod of her head. “Very well. Take it.”
Sending up a desperate prayer, she tossed the Medallion toward the spot she had marked upon the floor. It arched through the dim shadows before landing upon the dust. At the same time Lucien gave a wrenching moan.
“No.”
With a gloating laugh, the vampire was already scurrying toward his prize.
“Too late, Lucien. Your foolish slut has already given the Medallion of her free will. It is now mine.”
“Amadeus,” Lucien choked.
Sinking to his knees, Amadeus reached his fingers toward the amulet that glowed with a golden light.
“Already I can feel the power. Glorious power . . .”
Lost in his haze of lust, the vampire did not notice as Jocelyn suddenly turned and reached for the shutter. He did not even realize his danger until a rosy shaft of morning sunlight angled through the window to land directly upon his crouched form.
For a heartbeat the world seemed to halt, then to Jocelyn’s amazement a tendril of smoke rose f
rom the vampire. It was swiftly followed by a sudden flare of fire that engulfed Amadeus even as he struggled to his feet.
“No,” the tortured vampire screamed, futilely attempting to bat out the flames that were consuming him.
In horror Jocelyn watched Amadeus stumble about the room, his shrieks sending shivers down her spine. He was being burned alive, his body turning to ash as he fell to the flagstones and gave one last scream of fury.
Silence descended, and with agonizing slowness the flames flickered out one by one. Jocelyn remained locked in sick disbelief until at last there was nothing left but the gruesome darkness upon the dust.
Heavens above, she had done it.
She had killed a vampire and saved Lucien.
Chapter 13
With her horrified gaze still upon the black marks on the flagstones, Jocelyn was at last shaken out of her shocked disbelief as Lucien gave a low groan and sank to his knees.
Shaking off the odd fog that clouded her mind, Jocelyn hastily lowered herself beside his weak form.
She had not gone through all of this only to have Lucien die on her now, she silently swore, her hands reaching out to stroke the satin of his hair.
“Lucien, you are wounded.”
“Give me a moment,” he murmured, his voice so low she could barely discern his words.
“Shall I go for a doctor?”
With an effort he lifted his head to regard her with a strained smile. “A doctor would be of little use to me, I fear.”
She bit her lip at his teasing words. “Oh . . . of course.”
“Do not fear. I heal very quickly.”
Hoping that he was not merely attempting to disguise how injured he truly was,
Jocelyn shifted so that she could wrap her arms about him and pull him against her. She needed to have him close. She needed to feel the beat of hs.otise how inis heart and his sweet breath against her cheek.
Instantly she was surrounded by his warm strength, and she could at last draw in a deep breath. There was a great comfort in simply having him near.
“I am not hurting you, am I?” she demanded in concern.
“No.” He shifted so that they were both leaning against the hard stone wall and released a faint sigh. “This is much better.”
Jocelyn buried her face in his shoulder, breathing deeply of his masculine scent. She was still reeling from her horrifying experience, and while she had never allowed herself to doubt that Lucien would come to her rescue, she could not deny that the past few hours had tried her nerves to the very limit.
Confronting a crazed vampire would have terrified the bravest of souls.
“Lucien, I was so frightened,” she whispered in broken tones.
Surprisingly he placed his fingers beneath her chin to tilt her countenance upward. The golden eyes glittered with a smoldering fire.
“Unfortunately you were not frightened enough.”
“What?”
“Why did you not flee when I commanded you to?”
She wrinkled her nose at his stern tone. To her relief, she could already sense him regaining much of his strength.
“Because I do not take commands from you, Mr. Valin,” she reminded him in crisp tones.
He smiled wryly, his thumb absently stroking the line of her lower lip.
“Eventually I will manage to recall that pertinent fact, Miss Kingly.”
Her own smile was weak, but a new warmth was beginning to battle the chill that had filled her.
“I do hope so.”
His expression became somber as he allowed his gaze to roam openly over her pale countenance and tumbled curls.
“Still, you should not have taken such a risk.”
“I could not leave you.”
“It was too dangerous—”
“Lucien,” she interrupted firmly. “Would you have left me behind?”
His lips thinned at her logic. “It is not at all the same.”
“Of course it is.” She met his gaze squarely. “I have enough regrets in my life. Would you have me add hating myself for fleeing like a coward?”
My Lord Eternity (Immortal Rogues) Page 16