“No, everything is not bloody alright.”
He almost smiled at her outburst. She was definitely concerned for him.
“I see.”
“You see?” she sputtered. “You are about to engage in a duel, which is completely illegal, for your information. And for no good reason, I might add. This entire situation has rubbed my nerves raw.”
“I am quite aware that it’s illegal, but it is not without good reason,” he said, keeping his voice calm as hers escalated.
“My honor, bah,” she said, waving a hand in a dismissive manner. “That man wants nothing more than to have an opportunity to shoot you and you’ve given it to him.”
“I am not going to get shot, Gwen. I am only going through with this to ensure he leaves me in peace and to defend your honor, as well as mine,” he said, his expression becoming serious. “It is all I have left, the salvation of the tattered remains of my honor. If there is any left to save.” He gave her a wry grin. “If your honor means nothing to you, perhaps you can reward me with a kiss when I return.”
The lamplight from the street cast its glow onto her face, allowing him to see the fear in her eyes.
“You can’t possibly know that you’re coming back,” she cried.
“Sebastian Wells is not a crack shot with a pistol and this is common knowledge. My guess is he will try to cheat in some manner, by not loading the weapon with the correct amount of gun powder or something along those lines.”
“What a scoundrel. See? That is a perfect reason for you not to do this.”
“Are you worried for me, Gwen?” he asked gently.
“Worried for you?” She looked at him, her eyes softening. “I’m terrified.”
He had her in his arms, and sitting on his lap, before she could protest otherwise. Her hands flew to his chest, gathering the material of his shirt to steady herself, but she did not pull away. His hand traveled up her back to anchor itself in the array of ebony curls at the nape of her neck. Slowly he tilted her head back so he could look into her eyes, as his arm tightened around her waist.
“Do you care for me, even a little, Gwen?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“More than I should,” came the soft reply, taking the sting out of her noncommittal answer.
His lips brushed hers in the barest of kisses and she sighed against his mouth.
“You should not do that,” she said in a breathless whisper.
She may not want to care for him and she may not want to desire him, but it was there all the same. At least he had a chance, however small, to win her.
He leaned forward to place light kisses along the slope of her neck and her head fell to the side, giving him the permission he sought. When he nipped on her ear, she hummed low in her throat while her hands held onto his shirt a little tighter. He trailed his lips across her smooth cheeks and placed a kiss at the corner of her mouth before he pressed his lips fully to hers.
What started out as a tender kiss, quickly turned demanding when she moaned against his mouth. Taking advantage of her parted lips, he swept his tongue inside. Hers met his without hesitation and the passion between them ignited.
He plundered her mouth and she let him, her hands gliding along his chest to settle in his hair. She arched into his body and tugged his head closer, so he deepened the kiss. She tasted of champagne and he could not help but compare her to it. He felt intoxicated by her, always wanting another taste, another drink of her. His head swam as she returned his kisses with an enthusiasm that could not be artificial.
Releasing her hair, his hand traveled down her torso to cup her breast, before it navigated underneath her voluminous skirts. There, he felt the silkiness of her thighs and they were just as soft as he remembered. His hand sought out the evidence of her desire while he continued to overwhelm her with kisses. When heat met his fingertips, he touched the source of it and she gasped. His caress began as a languid motion, but he increased the speed and pressure as she began to writhe against his hand. She tore her mouth from his and buried herself in the crook of his neck, holding onto him with a tight grip.
When his fingers brushed her entrance, she sucked in a deep breath and went completely still.
“Gwen?”
“Y-yes?” she panted, her breath tracing his skin.
“Trust me,” he said. And then he slowly inserted his finger into the place he wanted most to be.
Her body was tense at first, but after the second stroke she melted into him. He was slow and cautious at first, not wanting to hurt or scare her, but when her hips began to move he knew she was lost to her passion. He kept his own under control, wanting her to experience his mouth and his hands. He wanted to finish what had begun at the Den the other night.
Gwen began to grind her hips onto his hand, her body seeking out what it needed. And so he gave it to her. He heard her breath catch right before she keened his name, the sound muffled against his skin. Hayden swore it was a siren’s call, because he could not imagine anything sweeter.
He withdrew his hand and adjusted her skirts, before settling his arms around her. The pounding of her heart could be felt since she kept herself pressed against him. He stroked her hair, enjoying the feel of her in his arms, knowing it was about to end shortly.
The coach rolled to a stop and Gwen jumped as though being burned. Her face looked as though it actually had been, so great was her blush.
“Relax, Gwen,” he said with a chuckle. “The only thing giving you away is your facial expression.”
She went from looking shocked to horrified. He repressed his laughter and grabbed her hand.
“My driver knows to be discreet. You needn’t worry about anything,” he said.
Releasing her, he opened the coach door and stepped out. Turning, he offered her his hand and she took it with an apprehensive smile. They walked to the door and even though he wanted to reassure her further about what took place in the coach, he left her to her thoughts.
They approached the door and he turned to face her, bringing his hand to cup her cheek.
“I will see you tomorrow,” he said.
“Hayden.” She said his name like a plea and his gut clenched. “Please don’t go tomorrow.”
He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “All will be well.”
“But—”
“Get some rest,” he instructed gently.
“Take your own bloody advice,” she said giving him a look and jerking open the door. “And you better come back or I will kill you.”
She slammed the door in his smiling face.
Chapter 8
Less than thirty minutes later, Gwen, Sunny, and Ethan were all seated in Sunny’s office at the Den of the Fallen. As soon as Hayden’s carriage had ridden out of sight, Gwen had borrowed Sunny’s coach and left for the brothel covered in a hooded cloak. This one being without the power of invisibility. She already had enough worries to contend with besides landing herself in jail for witchcraft also.
“Are you sure this will work?” she asked Sunny.
“Drink your tea, my dear,” Sunny said, and tilted her head towards the porcelain set. “Yes, it will work. I have done this spell many times. Although, I am not sure this is the best of ideas. I already put a protection spell on Lord Greystone earlier this evening.”
“I suspected that is what you had done, but I couldn’t be sure,” Gwen said. “Although, I appreciate it, that spell will not make him invincible. It will just absorb some of the damage done to his person.”
Sunny’s gaze slid to the tea cup and Gwen hurriedly picked it up and took a sip.
“Now then, are you sure you want to follow him?” Sunny asked, and not for the first time.
Gwen held back her frustration and clamped her fingers around the fragile cup.
“Yes, I am. He said that Lord Wells was a cheating scoundrel and I intend to see that Lord Greystone returns to me.”
“And how are you planning to explain how you knew the location of the duel?” Sunn
y asked.
“I plan on telling him that I had the help of a gentleman named Ethan Wakefield,” she said. “Who is said to have eyes and ears throughout the city.”
Ethan looked at her with a lazy grin. “That is going to cost you a pint lovely.”
Gwen swallowed the fear in her throat. “Truly?”
“Ethan, stop teasing her,” Sunny chided. “Gwen, you do not need to donate your blood so that Ethan will vouch for you.”
Gwen relaxed and smiled at Ethan who then said, “But I still do want to taste you. I’ve never tasted a witch before. I bet it’s divine.”
Instantly, Gwen’s fear returned. Sunny gave Ethan a pointed look which he returned with an air kiss. Gwen couldn’t help but smile at the exchange.
“How does the spell work exactly?” Ethan asked, sitting up from his reclined position on the neighboring settee.
“A locator spell is simply that. It locates whoever I focus on and gives me their position on this map,” Sunny said.
“This is something I need to learn, among many others,” Gwen muttered under her breath.
“How do you locate someone you’ve never met?” Ethan asked.
“You would need a possession of theirs to channel their energy, instead of the energy you absorbed by being around them. It does not require much,” Gwen explained.
“I am going to require complete silence please,” Sunny said.
Gwen set down her cup, not trusting herself to keep from spilling it. With a single command, Sunny called a flame to the candle on the coffee table. Using a hairpin, she pierced her index finger, and blood began to flow. Ethan’s eyes followed it, as though mesmerized, but he did not move.
Three crimson drops fell onto the map. One for Sunny’s location, one for Hayden’s, and the third would be the connection. Sunny reached out her arms and kept them suspended over the map. Gwen could barely hear Sunny’s incantation, but the blood began to glide across the map to their designated positions, making Ethan’s eyes widen. When the blood stopping moving, Sunny opened her eyes.
“It is done,” she said.
“He’s in Willshire glade,” Gwen said. Relief swelled in her chest and threw her arms around her cousin. “Thank you.”
“I would not thank me until this ordeal is over. Something tells me Lord Greystone will not appreciate you interfering with this matter of honor.”
“I would rather he be angry and alive, than too dead to care,” Gwen said. She looked at Ethan and bit her lip. “Well, dead, as in permanently. No offense.”
He gave her a smile, with his fangs extended. “None taken.”
Gwen was not sure if his smile was sincere or if his fangs were an underlying threat. With Ethan, she guessed the latter of the two.
“Since I cannot persuade you otherwise, at least allow me to accompany you, my dear,” Sunny said. “After all, I am your chaperone.”
Ethan barked out a laugh.
“You’re the chaperone? I would say you hardly qualify. A chaperone is a woman with an unblemished reputation, a paragon of moral behavior.”
Sunny stood and grabbed her shawl, draping it around her slim shoulders.
“It is rather amusing, is it not?”
“I’ll say,” Ethan agreed.
“Do you know what else I find amusing?” she asked Ethan, her eyes narrowing. “Vampires that suddenly cannot maintain an erection.”
Ethan’s pale complexion turned white.
“Come now, cousin. We will want to get there and find a good place to conceal ourselves,” Sunny said.
Gwen looked at Sunny, who looked as though she were about to take an afternoon stroll, and then back to Ethan. He looked as though he wanted to die the eternal death. Biting her lip to keep from laughing, she followed her cousin out of the room to chase the dawn.
“I cannot see anything with all of these bloody trees everywhere,” Gwen hissed.
Sunny smoothed the material of her peach walking dress and sighed as though she were dealing with an impatient child.
“If you cannot see them, then it is safe to say that they cannot see us.”
“How can I protect Hayden if I cannot see him?”
Sunny raised a brow. “You’re on a first name basis now? My, my, things are escalating quickly. Good for the two of you.”
Gwen hid her blush by reaching for the door handle. “I am going to take a closer look. I will return shortly.”
“I doubt that,” Sunny muttered, but made no move to follow.
The twigs under Gwen’s feet snapped and it sounded magnified in the tranquility of the morning. The sun had yet to rise, but the sky was already tinted with pink, as though painted with a lady’s rouge.
Creeping through the forest while holding her skirts, she walked toward the sound of voices. At one point, the sound was relatively close so she ducked behind an overgrown bush and pushed some of the branches aside.
Hayden was dressed in form fitting pants, tan in color, along with a simple black shirt. Wells, on the other hand, was dressed as a peacock, with a teal waistcoat and yellow breeches. She wondered if he knew he presented a brightly colored target. It would be hard for Hayden to miss. Lord Montwood and Mr. Brooks, Hayden’s seconds, stood off to the side as the pistols were loaded, ensuring it was done properly. Wells’s cohorts were present as well, their arms crossed, eyes shadowed.
Gwen bit her lip and her magic stirred more violently. How was she going to protect Hayden without getting caught?
“Are you ready to die today, Greystone?”
Wells’s voice was only a few feet from where Gwen was hiding and she could see him clearly when she turned her head to the right.
“As I told you last night, I am announcing my engagement to Lady Fairview today. I await your congratulations, not your empty threats,” Hayden said.
He was closer than Wells and she could easily see the gleam of his polished boots.
“I will offer Lady Fairview my congratulations on being rid of a miscreant and then I will offer her the comfort of my bed,” Wells said. “I doubt she will mourn you for long, if at all.”
Her magic swirled under the skin of her palms. She itched to release it on Wells, but squeezed her fists tightly before she lost control. Her magic lowered in its intensity and she smiled. It appeared as if her lessons with Sunny were helping her improve already.
“I am going to enjoy killing you today,” Hayden said. His tone was low and soft, but his aura was bright red. She almost felt sorry for Wells at seeing Hayden’s rage.
Almost.
Wells inhaled and his aura went blacker than night. That was the only warning Gwen received. The gleam of the knife he held glinted in the first rays of the sun, but he kept it pressed against his body as he approached Hayden, who turned a second too late. Gwen screamed Hayden’s name and a burst of magic shot from her hands as Wells swung the weapon in an arc, aiming for Hayden’s side. The knife flew out of Wells’s hand and he screamed before tucking his arm to his chest.
“Gwen, stay back!” Hayden yelled, keeping his gaze fixed on Wells.
Hayden’s seconds were already running over because of Gwen’s scream, followed by Wells’s.
Hayden jerked his chin in the direction of the fallen weapon. “The knife is over there,” he said loudly, to be heard over Wells’s shouting.
“You bitch! What did you do to my hand? I’m going to -”
Hayden’s hand was around Wells’s throat in the blink of an eye, squeezing off the remainder of the threat.
“She did nothing, but expose you for the coward that you are,” Hayden growled. Wells clawed at Hayden’s hand with his uninjured one, but to no avail. “If I ever see you near me or my fiancé again, I will not hesitate to kill you,” Hayden said. “But I doubt that I will be seeing you in London much longer after this tale gets out.” He released Wells by shoving him backwards and the man fell, landing in the grass with a curse. “There is no need to continue with the duel since you have no honor to bring.”
“Now is not the time for your charming wit, Kent,” Hayden said.
His gaze fell on Gwen and he held out his arm toward her. She flew to his side, but halted just within his reach. His aura was still red, although not as bright, but still a warning.
“Come here, love,” he said, his voice gentle.
Her heart lurched as she moved into his embrace.
His arms wrapped around her and he kissed her temple. “Thank you,” he whispered into her hair.
She threw her arms around him, molding her body to his, needing the feel of him against her. He was alive and well, but seeing him in harm’s way was not something she was likely to forget. She gave him a small nod, unable to speak past tears that threatened to fall.
“Alex and Kent, I am going to escort my fiancé home,” Hayden said. “I will call on you later, but I appreciate your service this morning.”
“Gwen!” Sunny’s voice trilled across the field, drawing everyone’s gaze. “Are you alright cousin?” she called and waved a hand.
“I’m glad she’s not my cousin,” Kent said under his breath as his eyes roved over Sunny’s body. That earned him a pointed look from Hayden. Kent coughed into his hand. “What is she doing here anyway?”
“I am about to find out,” Hayden said.
His arm squeezed Gwen in warning and she bit her lip. He might be grateful that she saved his life, but it did not seem to keep him from being angry with her. It was times like this that she longed for her cloak of invisibility.
Chapter 9
“I have instructed the coachman to continue driving until I say otherwise,” Hayden said. “So unless you want to jump from a moving vehicle, you will not be leaving until you explain yourself.”
Gwen looked longingly at the coach door and then back to him. His scowl deepened.
“I was concerned for your safety and so I enlisted the help of Sunny. That is pretty much all there is to it,” she said.
“That explains nothing, madam,” he said, his voice hard.
The Masquerade (Den of the Fallen Book 0) Page 6