“Never have I encountered a woman with a kinder heart and a more generous nature.”
The older woman smiled weakly. She might not comprehend why a gentleman of society would be concerned with a kind heart and generous nature, but she was cunning enough to realize she desired to win his favor.
To have her daughter wed to such a prominent gentleman would not only cleanse the stain upon Jocelyn’s reputation, it would also enhance her own power.
“Indeed.”
Lucien smiled into Jocelyn’s eyes. “It shall be the happiest moment in my life when I can call her wife.”
“A wedding.” With an expression of anticipation Mrs. Kingly turned toward her silent husband. “We must begin making plans at once. The ceremony will be at St. George’s, of course. Mr. Kingly, you must speak with the prince. His presence will be vital to ensure that the wedding will be considered a success.”
Jocelyn abruptly stepped forward. She was not about to allow her parents to turn her wedding into a carnival.
“No, Mother.”
Mrs. Kingly turned to regard her with an expression of arrogant disapproval. “No?”
The familiar fear of not measuring up to this woman’s impossible standards threatened to rise, only to be fiercely dismissed.
Jocelyn tilted her chin. No. She was a child no longer. If her parents could not accept the woman she had become, then so be it. She would not allow them to force her into a life she did not desire.
“My marriage will not be a social event. I desire a simple private ceremony.”
“Do not be ridiculous, Jocelyn,” her mother snapped in annoyance. “After your . . . unfortunate incident, it is vastly important to gain the support of the prince. If he attends the wedding, then no one else will dare stay away.”
“No.” Jocelyn faced her mother bravely. “I am marrying Lucien because I love him, not to secure my place in society.”
The older woman blinked, as if startled to discover that her daughter would dare defy her. An icy warning chilled her gaze.
“As stubborn as ever, I see. You are determined to make a mockery of your father and me.”
Jocelyn smiled sadly. Her parents would never change. They would always remain utterly shallow and incapable of sharing the love she had discovered with Lucien.
The lingering sense of betrayal she had harbored for years slowly faded, to be replaced by an unexpected pity.
How terribly lonely they must be in this cold mausoleum with nothing to warm their hearts but hollow pride, she acknowledged.
They would never know the joy or the passion she shared with Lucien. They would grow old and die all alone.
“Actually this has nothing to do with you, Mother,” she said in soft but firm tones.
“You could at least consider our feelings.” Mrs. Kingly gave a loud sniff. “It has been very difficult for us.”
Without warning Lucien moved to stand beside Jocelyn, his face set in grim lines.
“This is Jocelyn’s decision. You will respect her wishes.”
There was a shocked pause before Mrs. Kingly opened her mouth to argue. She would not easily give up her dream of a lavish wedding complete with the prince at her side. But placing a warning hand upon his wife’s arm, Mr. Kingly gave a reluct gargue. Shant nod of his head. He easily sensed the danger that cloaked the tall, golden-haired gentleman. A danger that he was unwilling to confront.
“Very well.”
“We will advise you when the plans have been completed,” Lucien continued, placing his hand upon Jocelyn’s back. “Now we must be on our way.”
Mrs. Kingly pressed a hand to her heart. “But surely you are not leaving so soon? We are, after all, destined to become family. We should become better acquainted before the wedding. If you will have a seat, I will call for tea.”
Jocelyn hid a wry smile. No doubt her mother must be expecting callers. She would certainly want to flaunt the elu
sive Mr. Valin before her cronies.
“We cannot,” she said in tones that defied argument. “There are a great number of details I must attend to. We will send a message when we have a date settled for the ceremony.”
Without allowing her parents an opportunity to respond, Jocelyn turned and headed for the door. An unconscious smile curved her lips.
For the first time in years her heart felt as light as a feather.
Lucien had been right.
She had needed to confront the shadows of her past and banish them. She had needed to discover that she could hold her head up proudly and with no apology.
And that was precisely what she had done.
Now she could face the future.
Her smile widened as she glanced at the handsome bronze face of her beloved vampire.
Chapter 15
The moonlight bathed the small bedchamber in a pool of soft silver. Lying entwined with his wife on the bed, Lucien heaved a deep sigh of contentment.
The earlier wedding had been just as Jocelyn had demanded. The simple ceremony had included only a vicar, and her parents as witnesses. But there had been nothing simple in the shimmering love that filled the air as the two were joined together. Or the soft words that came from their very hearts.
Of course, the day had not been without its share of surprises, he ruefully acknowledged.
They had returned to Jocelyn’s small home to discover that the residents of St. Giles had been determined to have a share of the celebration. They had left food and drink and even fresh flowers as a token of their appreciation. Mr. Ryan had also called to leave a fine bottle of brandy that Lucien was swift to claim as his own.
The display of affection meant far more to Jocelyn than her parents’ cold presence at her wedding, and his heart nearly burst at the tears of happiness that filled his wife’s eyes.
Wife . . .
He tightened his grasp around the slumbering woman as he savored the memories of making her his own.
She was just as delightfully passionate as he had dreamed she would be.
Perhaps even more so.
There had been no fear, no hesitancy as she followed his lead. Only an anxious desire to at last satisfy the need that had built to a near-fever pitch.
A fever that still coursed through his blood, he acknowledged ruefully. He suspected he would never tire of this woman who had bewitched his mind and stolen his heart.
As if sensing the sudden hardening of his renegade body, Jocelyn stirr garguld need in his arms. The heavy lashes lifted as she regarded him with a sleepy smile.
“Lucien.”
“Shhh, my beloved,” he murmured, gently stroking her hair from the pale countenance. “It is very late. You should be asleep.”
“This is very nice,” she said shyly. “I think I shall enjoy sharing a bed with my husband.”
Lucien swallowed a groan. Great Nefri. Did she not realize what she was doing to his poor, tortured body?
“Yes, my sweet. Now go back to sleep.”
Pulling back, she regarded him with a puzzled expression. “What is it, Lucien? Is something the matter?”
He heaved another sigh. She would not be satisfied until he revealed the truth.
“Nothing is the matter. It is merely difficult for me to hold you so closely and not wish to make love to you again.”
A delightful color stained her cheeks. “Oh.” There was a long pause before she slowly lifted herself onto her elbow. “Lucien?”
“Yes?”
“I am prepared.”
“No.” He reached out to cup her cheek. “We have an eternity to be together, my sweet. There is no need to rush on this night.”
She gave a shake of her head, an oddly resolute expression upon her countenance.
“I mean that I am prepared to bond with you. As a vampire.”
Lucien caught his breath. “Jocelyn.”
“Please do not argue with me, Lucien.” An odd smile curved her lips. “You said that we would know when the time was right. And I do know
. I cannot say how, but something within me is telling me that this is the moment.”
As if on cue, the Medallion about her neck suddenly began to glow in the silver shadows.
Lucien regarded the powerful amulet before giving a slow nod of his head. He, too, felt the anticipation that tingled in the night.
It was the moment.
The perfect moment to entwine his soul with his true mate’s.
Allowing his fangs to lengthen, he held the shimmering blue gaze as he lowered his head toward her neck. He took but a taste of her blood, his entire body trembling as the sense of her filled his mind and his heart.
“My love,” he whispered softly, raising his arm to draw blood from his wrist and placed it against her waiting lips.
Sighing, Jocelyn readily completed the ritual, allowing them to become one.
“My eternal love,” she pledged as the Medallion flared to golden life.
Hello from the desk of Alexandra Ivy!
I wanted to take this opportunity to update my fabulous readers on what they can expect in the upcoming months.
It’s going to be a busy time with the release of the last book in my Immortal Rogues trilogy, MY LORD IMMORTALITY, that will hit the shelves in January 2013. Coming in June 2013 will be the tenth book in the Guardians of Eternity series, Darkness Avenged. Wow. I can’t believe it’s number ten! This will be Santiago and Nefri’s book and I can’t wait to discover what you think of their passionate adventure. I’ve had so many wonderful fans asking for Santiago’s story that I wanted to make sure it was special.
garg of thei
I also have a new series that I’m really excited to tell you about. The series is tentatively called The Sentinels and will start off in a short story collection coming May 2013. These novels will be different from my Guardians, with the stories revolving around people who are “gifted” with special abilities. They’re known as high-bloods and will include witches and psychics and necromancers, as well as the Sentinels. The Sentinels are men and women who are trained warriors who protect the high-bloods when they travel away from their safe-house called Valhalla, or track those high-bloods who are a danger to the mortal population.
In the short story you’ll meet Angela Brown, a young graduate student who is a genius in genetics and Niko, the hunter who is sent to protect her from a high-blood who is convinced that Angela can rid her of her mutations. I hope you’ll enjoy the Sentinels; they’ve been such a pleasure to create!
Lastly, I wanted to thank my readers! As always you’re the reason I continue to write. Your encouragement and loyalty is truly a source of inspiration. You rock!
Happy Reading!
Alex
In this mesmerizing tale from the author of the Guardians of Eternity series, a traitorous vampire is determined to destroy the Veil that has long separated vampires from human blood—and the passions it ignites. Only the Immortal Rogues, three vampires charged to protect their kind, can hope to stop his deadly rampage....
Amelia Hadwell has no time for London’s nightlife. Not when her beloved brother’s odd ways have their family threatening to institutionalize him. And not when she is questioning her own sanity after being confronted by a murderous shadow creature—then being saved by a captivating stranger, a man who belongs to a world she cannot imagine.
Reserved and scholarly, Sebastian St. Ives has been content without human desires—until they are reawakened by the delicate, brave Amelia, whom he is meant to protect. For the young woman has no idea she possesses the key to a ravenous vampire’s dark victory. Now Sebastian must shield her from both a killer and his own growing attraction—or bond with her completely, and forever....
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of
MY LORD IMMORTALITY,
coming in January 2013!
Prologue
The cottage set in the thick copse of trees was a dark, cramped affair. Abandoned years before, it had been forgotten by all but the spiders and an occasional rat. Even the air was stale with a thick dust that threatened to choke the unwary.
On this moonless night, however, the rats and spiders had been driven from the darkness. Not even those shadowy creatures could dare the cold mist of fog that slowly, ruthlessly seeped through the door.
Drake Ramone suppressed a delicate shudder as he watched the mist swirl ever closer. As a vampire of considerable power, he feared nothing. Why should he?
He was destined for greatness. Both upon this dreary mortal plane and behind the Veil that currently protected the vampires from his wrath. It was his undoubted birthright.
Still, he discovered a vague sense of unease as the fog thickened. His power was not as formidable as ford afthis ancient vampire. Not yet. Until he held the Medallion in his hands he would have to remain an unwilling servant to his master.
“Drake,” the mist whispered in steely tones.
“Welcome, Master,” he murmured with a low bow. “You honor me with your presence.”
There was a grating laugh that echoed eerily through the barren cottage. “Honor? Do you believe me a fool? You honor no one, Drake,” the vampire sneered.
“Perhaps not.” Drake gave an indifferent shrug. “But I have always honored power.”
“No, you lust after power.”
“Surely it is one and the same?”
“To honor implies you possess a measure of principles. A tedious weakness that has never troubled you.”
Drake offered a tight smile. “Certainly not.”
“Which is precisely why you were chosen. Only one with your arrogant ambition would be willing to steal the Medallion and bring an end to the Veil.”
“It is our mutual ambition, I believe.”
“Yes.” There was a pause, as if the elder were searching Drake’s black heart. And perhaps he was, as he gave a dry rasp. “But do not allow that ambition to be your downfall. I sense your burning desires. If you betray me I will crush you beneath my heel.”
Drake restrained his temper with an effort. When the vampire had first approached him behind the Veil he had been reluctant to agree to his scheme. He was an Immortal. A true blood. He took commands from no one. But as he pondered the rewards that could be his, his reluctance had faded.
It had been nearly two hundred years ago that the greatest of all vampires, Nefri, had created the Veil. She had commanded that the vampires live apart from humans. It was for the good of all, she had claimed, that the vampires exist in seclusion to ponder the great truths and philosophies. They were abruptly separated from the mortal world. The bloodlust that had once made them vulnerable to sunlight and fire had been wrenched from their souls.
Without human blood, however, they had also lost the desire, the lust and hungers, of humans. They forgot their fierce need to hunt.
For Drake it was an unbearable existence. He was no cold, passionless scholar who desired to devote an eternity to seeking a higher existence. He did not wish the knowledge of the elders.
What he wanted was to compel others to his command. He wanted to crush and enslave the humans, and to feast upon their blood. He wanted the other vampires to bend to his will.
An impossible task as long as Nefri held the ancient Medallion that kept the Veil in place.
So, along with Tristan and Amadeus, he had allowed himself to be secretly slipped through the Veil. They had returned to the world of mortals to discover Nefri and take the Medallion from her grasp.
None of them could have suspected that the wily old vampire would choose to separate the Medallion into three amulets, or that she would soul-bind them to mortal women.
Suddenly the Medallion could not be taken by force or even death. The mortals must give the amulets of their free will, or the power within them would be destroyed.
It had been a clever ploy. Even Drake had to admit that much. But that did not halt his seething determination. He would have the Medallion. No matter what he must do.
And once he did, all would suffer beneath hi
s power.
Including this arrogant, treacherous vampire who chided him as if he were a hapless minion.
“I seek only to retrieve the Medallion as you requested, Master,” he forced himself to retort, his thin countenance wreathed with a chilled smile. “No more.”
The mist swirled. “We shall see. Have you discovered the wench?”
“Yes. I managed to rent a town house within the same block as Miss Hadwell. I have even managed to make contact with her brother, a rather pathetic half-wit. I hope to use the boy to get closer to the maiden.”
“And Sebastian?”
Drake curled his lips at the mention of the vampire who had been sent by the Great Council to force him to return to the Veil.
“The fool has taken a house a few blocks away. He poses no threat, however. As usual, he is impervious to all but his musty books and ancient studies. He has not even made an attempt to seek me out. When he does, I shall kill him and be done.”
There was a dry hiss of disapproval at his flippant tone. “He is there because I swayed the Council to choose him. Just as I chose that tediously noble Gideon and that vain fool Lucien. I presumed that they would easily be defeated. Just as I chose my servants because I presumed they possessed the necessary intelligence and lust to conquer. A miscalculation that I now must rue.”
Drake frowned. “What are you implying?”
“Tristan has been destroyed, along with Amadeus. You alone are left.”
Drake felt the chill seep to his bones. While he considered the two vampires who had joined him in the battle to destroy the Veil beneath contempt, he could not deny a vague sense of shock.
“How?”
“In their arrogance they thought they could not be defeated. The same arrogance that you carry about you, Drake.”
The handsome features surrounded by a short crop of golden curls hardened at the insult. Tristan and Amadeus were pathetic idiots when compared to him.
My Lord Eternity (Immortal Rogues) Page 19