by Sharon Page
“He is now awake,” the madam murmured. “But there is something wrong—”
Sinjin released Mrs. Simpson so fiercely she stumbled back. He ran for the stairs. Lifting her skirts, Lucy raced after him. Her disordered hair bounced in her eyes and her bonnet slid back. She grasped the banister and propelled herself up two steps at a time.
He left her behind, rushing down the hallway. She could never hope to catch up to him, so despite the urge to run as fast as she could after him anyway, she waited for Mrs. Simpson. The madam was panting hard as she hurried up the stairs and she stopped at the landing, her hand to her large bosom.
“What is wrong with James?” Lucy asked.
“He is not speaking once more. He has awoken but he will not move. He will not eat. And he is cold again, even though the fire is roaring in the grate. I do not know what is wrong. He must be ill. Do you think he is?” Mrs. Simpson bit at her fingernail, despite the fact she wore gloves.
But he had gotten better when she had been with him. What had happened? Was he ill? “I don’t know,” Lucy whispered.
She whirled, to go to Sinjin, but she saw he had stopped outside of the room. He hung his head, then slammed his fist against the wall. His body shuddered and she came up to him. She rested her hand on the small of his back.
“It is all right,” she murmured. “We will face this together, but I think James must be scared. He needs our love, our help, and he will get better.”
Sinjin swallowed hard. Lucy saw his hand shake as he clasped the doorknob. He pushed the door wide. He was frozen in place, and she darted around him.
The boy lay in the bed, motionless, just the way he had been earlier and the way he had been when she had first seen him at her Dartmoor home. Lucy knelt in front of James and she clasped both of his hands in hers.
She lifted his hand and gave it a kiss. Then she turned over his palm and licked it, which tickled madly, she knew. But he gave no response. His eyes were open, but glassy and blank. She wriggled her fingers into his underarms, but this time, tickling him did not provoke any response.
Panic rose like a torrent. What should she do? What was wrong? Should she shake him? Try to snap him out of this strange trance?
Instead she gathered him into her arms and embraced him tightly. Surely she could break through this. Cradling his small body against her, she rubbed his arms, trying to warm him. “James? James, it is Lucy.”
There had to be some way—
What did her sisters used to do to make her laugh when she refused to? Memories came—of her trying to be responsible and keep order, and her sisters running about, defying her and wildly giggling.
She picked up his hand and blew into the palm. A loud, rude bellow resounded in the room. She caught Sinjin’s eye—he was staring at her as though she were mad. But James ... a smile flickered at his lips.
“Aha,” she said, with cheer that was false but hopefully convincing. “You are teasing me. You know I am here.”
She made more rude sounds—she strung them together to play a tune and finally James began to giggle.
“Lucy, you can work magic with him, thank God,” Sinjin said gruffly.
She stroked James’s head. “What happened, love?” she asked him softly. “Were you afraid?”
James frowned. “Afraid of what?”
Sinjin approached and knelt beside her. “What happened, James? Why did you not see us or speak to us?”
James stared at him, obviously mystified. “I was sleeping, I think.”
But he had not been sleeping. Sinjin bent close to her ear and murmured, “Is this because he is a dragon? Is it something that happens?” He whispered it so quietly, James did not hear.
She shook her head and softly answered, “I don’t think so.”
But she wanted to ensure James was calm and happy. Lucy settled down, and began to tell James one of the stories her mother used to tell her. In these tales, there were dragons, but they were happy and gentle, and lived in a mythical world. She wrapped her arm around his little waist to keep him secured on her lap, and she told him about dragon heroes who could fly around the world.
Finally, James leapt off her lap and ran around his bedroom, his arms outstretched, pretending to fly.
Lucy laughed, but her heart felt heavy. “Come, little scamp. It is very late at night and you should be in bed.” Even as she spoke cheerfully, and hustled James into his bed, where she pulled up the covers, she wished she could understand what kept happening to James.
Her heart gave a savage twist as Sinjin bent and kissed his nephew on the forehead, then whispered, “Sweet dreams, little one.”
Now she had to ensure Sinjin did not go out alone, into danger.
Lucy was settled on his lap in a wing chair in his bedchamber—this way he was pinned to the chair, and he could not get up, go out, and put his life at risk. His hand rested on her back, drawing her into a kiss.
She could not ask him if he could forgive dragons and put his awful past behind him. How could he? Even though she knew that dragons who had attacked slayers in vengeance had never felt any less loss or pain, she knew she had no right to ask Sinjin to forgive her kind for what those dragons had done. And even though he kissed her and gently stroked her back, she felt the distance in him. His lids were lowered, his eyes focused beyond her head. He was kissing her, but not looking at her. His thoughts were obviously elsewhere.
Was he thinking about the past and remembering how much he had lost? Or was he thinking about what he planned to do next—attack his prince to protect James and her?
Panic rose as he slid his hands under her bottom and began lifting her rump off his thighs. He was going to put her aside, and go. Lucy knew it.
She tightened the grip of her arms around his neck. “Don’t go.”
“I wish I could pretend I have a choice. I don’t. This is the only way to ensure you and James are safe.”
“But will it? Won’t another slayer come in pursuit of us?”
His face was hard, as though chiseled from rock. “If I can destroy the prince, I promise you, no slayer would cross me again. And if I can destroy him, the other slayers will be too busy fighting each other for power to come for you or James.”
She swallowed. She knew what his first statement meant. It must mean his prince was almost impossible to kill. Destroying such a man—a vampire, demon, whatever he was—would put fear in the hearts of all the others.
She couldn’t let him go. She would probably never see him again.
That thought turned Lucy’s blood to sluggish ice. She stroked her fingers up the corded lines of his throat. Her heart stuttered as she felt the slow thump of his heartbeat. How could she let him go? And lose him? She couldn’t do it. Tears burned in her eyes. Trying to stop them before she dissolved into a blubbering mess, she laid her head against his shoulder. “I can’t bear to let you go and die. I couldn’t stand living without you.”
There. That was the truth. She had known him for mere days, and on the very first night she had gone to his house she had been determined to dislike him, but now she could not imagine being without him.
She suddenly felt a spurt of anger. “You have been wounded your entire life by the pain of losing people you loved. Do you wish to make James suffer the same agony? If you are killed, he will have lost all of his family! Do you want to make me suffer? If I lose you, it will hurt me for as long as I live.”
“You would get over me,” he said gruffly. “It is not as if I am your family. You barely know me. Believe me, the more you grow to know me, the less you will like me.”
“You want me to think that, but I can’t.”
How did she keep him with her? Was there a way she could keep him until dawn? Sinjin would not be able to leave then... .
Suddenly, she knew a way to stall for time.
“Would you make love to me once more?” Lucy whispered. “In case you do not come back.” She must tempt him to stay with her at least a little longer,
while she thought up a plan. With her family, she had always taken care of things. She must do so now—she must think up a plan, she must take charge—to save Sinjin. “I—I want to see what a brothel is like. I want to see what fascinates men so much about such places. But I don’t want to go alone. Will you show me?”
Sinjin groaned and tipped his head back. “You want me to give you a guided tour of a brothel?”
Lucy smiled. “Exactly.”
Lucy hadn’t expected to hear music—to hear the lively tune of a country dance joyously played on a pianoforte. This was a brothel ... surely gentlemen did not come here to dance? But as she reached the threshold of the ballroom, she saw this was like no dancing she had ever seen. There were many things that were exactly as they would be in a ton ballroom. Young women with bouncing curls executed the complex steps of a dance. They lightly passed from one elegantly dressed gentleman to another, taking each man’s hand, smiling brightly. But they wore only corsets, stockings, and slippers. Their breasts were bare, bouncing above the shelf of their tightly laced corsets. They wore satin corsets—in blazing pinks, scarlet, emerald, and sapphire. Some wore daring black, which made their breasts, bare legs, nude bottoms look like porcelain. And their nipples—they had rouged them so dozens of red tips jiggled and swayed.
It was a mesmerizing sight.
“You look astounded, precious,” Sinjin murmured. He had ducked his head to whisper by her ear.
“I thought ... I was expecting ... well, more like a ...” Words failed her.
“An orgy perhaps? Unfettered sexual activity happening everywhere?”
His question gave her a pang of sexual awareness, low in her tummy. “Well ... yes. I did not think they would be dancing.”
“It’s intended to entice. To build anticipation.” Sinjin flashed a naughty grin. “And I think the women like to dance. Would you care to dance with me?”
She had once tried to be a model of propriety. So no one would suspect she was different from all the other young ladies. So no one would guess she was a shape-shifting dragon who could breathe fire. “Everyone would see me. I would be ruined... .” Had people in the brothel seen her already, when she had been brought in? Could she really hope to go back to being who she was—the very normal, staid Lady Lucy Drake?
“In this place, where vampires come for refuge, no one speaks of anything that happens here. That I promise you.”
She took a deep breath. It would be a risk. Ever since she had gone to Sinjin’s house to offer her body, she had taken one daring risk after another... .
She was no longer afraid. Risk did not frighten her anymore. And her toes were tapping within her slipper to the lively music. It had been a very long time since she had danced. When she had decided she would never marry, after Allan had attacked her—since she would not marry a mortal, and she was too afraid to consider marrying a dragon again—she had not danced much. Dancing was part of the game of attracting a husband. She had tended to stand back in the shadows and let other girls dance. Each time she had watched other girls whirl and execute steps up and down the row, she had yearned to be there. How she had missed it. “All right,” she whispered.
Sinjin swept a deep bow. As he rose, he reached for her hand. “Then dance with me, Lucy.”
Sinjin took Lucy’s hand in his and led her into the set as the next dance began. She took her place in the set between two bare-breasted women, yet he could not stop looking at Lucy.
Before he had met her, he had gone from woman to woman to slake his cravings. Now he knew he would never want anyone but Lucy.
Her black hair looked like lush, soft sable in the glow the candlelight. A blush touched her cheeks with fetching pink. Her mouth was full and beautiful, her eyes flashing with excitement. In her ivory silk dress, she was the most demurely attired woman in the room. But she was enchanting, dazzling. He could not look away from her.
A glow seemed to come from within her. Despite being decently covered, she seemed more sensual, more tempting, than all the other women. As music wrapped around them, he bowed to her and she curtsied gracefully.
He could not believe she really could not bear to lose him. He was her enemy. Eventually, she would come to realize that. She would learn of the dragons he had killed. Some would be her friends, people she cared about.
That damned afternoon when his family had been taken from him ... he should have died that afternoon. His destruction had just been delayed. It was inevitable that he was going to end up dead.
Now he knew he couldn’t live without Lucy. But he couldn’t ask her to live with him. How could they have a future together when he was a dragon slayer?
He moved forward and took Lucy’s hand, passing by her. Her lips parted as if she wanted to speak, but she didn’t. Which was good—his throat was too tight for words.
She had told him James needed him. Unabashedly, she had used his nephew to play on his guilt. He watched her dance as he moved mechanically through the steps. He saw other men watch her. Despite naked breasts and bottoms displayed for their delight, gentlemen stole glances at Lucy. She beamed with such delight as she danced. She displayed natural grace, natural beauty, and she looked so lovely yet ladylike it obviously enticed men.
Possessiveness surged through him.
He knew what was going to happen as the dancing ended. He intended to ensure Lucy did it with no one but him.
He was going to miss her. And James. It was going to hurt James if he didn’t come back. But it would free the boy from danger. Wasn’t that more important?
Sinjin knew he would never be able to kill the prince if he tried to do it and survive the fight. But if he went in willing to sacrifice himself ...
His sire would never suspect he was willing to die. It might give him the advantage he needed. If he was going to be destroyed, he was going to damn well take the prince with him.
The music stopped. Suddenly, in the midst of the dance. Lucy came to a halt, staring in confusion around her. Everyone else knew what to do, of course.
Sinjin pushed through the other dancers to reach her. He got to her side just as a hopeful gentleman lifted her hand for a kiss.
Sinjin pulled her hand free of the bloke’s grasp. “The lady is not available,” he warned.
With a shrug, the man turned, and claimed a pretty redhead in a green corset. The brothel’s client pulled the wench tight against him, squashing her large breasts, and kissed her.
Sinjin backed Lucy to the fringe of the crowd on the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his body. He cupped her breasts, nuzzled her earlobe, and listened to the shocked squeaks Lucy made as she looked around her.
A couple beside them ... the gentleman was nibbling the nipples of his partner. Not sucking, he was lightly scraping with his teeth, and the woman was writhing in pleasure in his embrace. Some gents had dropped to their knees to lick and devour the cunnies of their partners. Others had leaned against walls and columns and were already thrusting vigorously.
Lucy gasped. “It is an orgy after all!”
“It becomes one. It is the special event of the week. One you are not going to take part in.”
“No, I wasn’t—” But her voice died away.
Behind him, Sinjin heard one young girl’s voice gasp, “Oh goodness!” Another girl giggled. Lucy pushed his arms away and whirled around.
“Helena! Beatrix! You must go upstairs at once!” Lucy’s expression was of shock and outrage. She wagged her finger at her sisters.
Sinjin laughed. “Here, love. Let’s shoo your sisters upstairs. This is not for them.”
Her pretty sisters wore bright red flushes. Lucy strode to them, turned them with her hands on their shoulders, and marched them out of the ballroom.
He had to smile at her motherly behavior. She herded her sisters out through the doors, and he followed the three of them upstairs.
As she ensured the girls were in their bedrooms, he retreated. Ready to leave.
He turned to face Lucy. She held her hands out to him. “Please don’t go yet,” she whispered. “I want to make love to you ... one more time.”
He should go. It was late—past two o’clock in the morning. But he knew she had meant to say “one last time.” Christ, tears sparkled in her eyes.
One last time. That was what it would have to be. And he couldn’t say no.
19
Tied Up
“Champagne, my love?”
Lucy blinked. The bedchamber in which she stood was pitch-black. Warmth filled the room, but the fire was not lit now. Darkness was like a velvety blanket around her. Sinjin moved with ease through it, since he could see in the dark. The room did not belong to either of them. When Sinjin had agreed to make love with her, he had brought her here.
Something gave a soft pop, followed by a fizzy hiss. It must be the champagne. It made a sloshing sound as it hit the glass.
On instinct, she opened her eyes wide, but of course it made no difference. “I wish I could see in the dark as you can.” She had her arms crossed over her chest, and she turned in a circle, too nervous to move so she didn’t walk into something. Despite the cozy temperature of the room, she felt cold—cold with nerves, with apprehension, with the fear that if she did not act quickly she would lose Sinjin forever.
“Sorry, love. I should have been more thoughtful.”
A sulphur smell touched her nose, then a small light flared. Illuminated by the tiny flame, Sinjin touched it to the wicks of several candles. Slowly, the room filled with soft light.
Lucy bit her lip. She had to do something that would keep him with her, but she didn’t know what. She rubbed her arms as he returned to the bottle of champagne. He poured a tall flute of the ivory-gold liquid and brought it to her. She took it and lifted it to her lips. She took a sip, then giggled nervously. Holding the flute, she walked around the room. What could she do ... ?