by Adele Clee
Leo swallowed down his surprise. She could have climbed into her conveyance and sent the horses bolting for home. He would never catch up with her. He would never reach her once she’d passed through the iron gate of her fortress.
He nodded and then made his way back up to his room. The water running from his clothes left a slippery trail across the wooden boards. Giving the maid a vigorous shake and a command to wake, he was gone before she had a chance to sit up and rub the sleep from her eyes.
Pushing through the wind and rain, Leo continued along the deserted street. The thin streams of light escaping through the shutters did little to illuminate his way. The hulking black shadow of her carriage loomed into view. He could have been invisible and still the coachman, sitting muffled in his greatcoat, could not have paid him any less attention. An attempt to listen to his thoughts proved futile, and if it had not been for the twitch of a finger on the reins, Leo would have staked his life the man was a sitting corpse.
Leo paused at the carriage door. A sudden sense of foreboding gripped him, and he pulled his sword from its back harness and held it at his side. Elliot’s voice echoed through his mind. The voice of logic and reason reminding him it was sheer folly to climb into her conveyance.
But Leo had nothing left to lose.
He had lived the same nightmare every day, made all the worse since Elliot found love. The woman’s curse had left him alone, abandoned to the night that had so cruelly claimed him. The escapades of the brotherhood would become a distant memory, leaving him no choice but to forge ahead, to carve a new life for himself.
Do you intend to stand in the rain all night?
Her words penetrated his chaotic thoughts. She did not frighten him. Not anymore. Nothing she could do to him could be worse than the hell he was already living.
Sensing his decision, she opened the door for him, and he climbed into the one place he thought never to see again. As soon as he slammed the door shut the carriage lurched forward, and he fell back into the seat, his hand still gripping the handle of his sword.
“I shall make sure you’re given a big enough bed so you may sleep with it as well?” Her amused gaze travelled down the length of the steel blade.
“Sleep? Are you trying to provoke me? You know I haven’t slept a wink since you pricked my neck with your sharp fangs. Besides, I have no intention of staying that long.”
She gave a low chuckle. “We shall see. One never knows where the path of fate may lead.”
“You say that as though you have the ability to predict the future.”
“More the ability to remember the past.” She reached for the blanket at her side, used it to dry her cheeks and pat the ends of her hair. “None of us know what the future holds. Surely experience has taught you that. Did you expect that a drunken night of debauchery would see you cursed for eternity?” Her gaze drifted over him. He saw something akin to regret, perhaps disappointment reflected there. “Indeed, like you, I am fully aware of the price one pays for naiveté, for being so weak and insipid.”
Leo gave a contemptuous snort. “I would hardly call you weak and insipid.”
“You do not know the first thing about me.” Her tone was sharp, and he felt a sudden stab of pain, a fragment of fear he sensed lay buried beneath her calm facade.
“I know you enjoy ripping out the hearts of men.” A gust of wind shook the carriage as it climbed the narrow path cutting up through the trees. Leo put both hands on the handle of his sword to steady his balance. “I know revenge burns brightly within you, and so you seek to destroy other people’s lives as a way of exerting control.”
She glanced out of the window, stared at the passing shadows. “As I said, you know nothing about me. But I will keep my word. Soon, all will be revealed.”
Chapter 4
In the close confines of the carriage, Ivana studied him. It was obvious he did not remember much about his time with her — just as she had intended. All about them, the air whirled with palpable tension. She tried to read his thoughts, to delve deeper to discover what other feelings lay buried beneath the hatred and anger.
But something stopped her.
One could not begin to know a person from listening to the random musings of the mind. And she was curious to learn more about him. Was he so different from the man who had left her three years ago? Had she made a mistake in poisoning his blood? Or in battling with his affliction had he found humility?
Despite his eagerness to sever her head from her shoulders, she believed he had lost the brash, overbearing manner that had first captured her attention. In itself, it was a step towards redemption.
“We’re approaching the gates.” Her words penetrated the uncomfortable silence, and they rattled across the bridge before rushing through the stone arch leading into the courtyard. “Do you remember being here?”
She hoped the answer was no. But a small part of her wanted to see his eyes flash with the same fiery passion that had once warmed her heart.
He inhaled deeply. “I have a vague recollection, but despite numerous efforts to piece together the events of that night the memories are fragmented.”
Ivana smiled. She remembered every minute detail of his time at the castle. The fact he recalled very little gave her an advantage. “I’ve heard it said that to visit the scene of one’s nightmares can often prompt visions, images of memories locked away.”
Would he recall the scent of her skin or the taste of her blood?
Something akin to fear flashed in his brown eyes and then he blinked, and it was gone. “For your sake, I hope you’re wrong. If it’s as horrific as I imagine, I’ll not be responsible for my actions.”
“Oh, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
The carriage rumbled to a halt, swayed back and forth as Sylvester jumped down from his seat to open the door.
“After you.” Ivana waved her hand as Sylvester lowered the steps. “I know how susceptible you are, how easily you give in to temptation, and I would not wish to have a sword thrust in my back.”
“You think you have the measure of me,” he scolded. “You should know I'm no coward.”
“Did you not just sneak up behind me with the intention of ending my life?” she said rising to alight first. She accepted Sylvester’s hand, glanced back at Leo. “Did you not hide your face in the depths of your hood?”
Ivana felt his irate glare whipping across her shoulders. But she did not give him an opportunity to reply. She turned to Sylvester. “I need you to do something for me in the morning. Herr Bruhn is expecting you to call. I shall leave a package for him on the desk in the study.”
Sylvester inclined his head. His gaze flitted to her companion, although it was not his place to pass comment. “Consider it done.”
A hulking figure of a man, her servant was one of the few people she turned to for support. His loyalty had been put to the test many times over the years, and he had never failed her.
Ivana tugged Sylvester’s sleeve and pulled him further away from the carriage. “He is angry,” she whispered, “that is all. Do not worry about the sword. He has no intention of using it.”
“Is he as strong as you?”
With concern etched on his face, Ivana did not have the heart to tell him she had come close to losing her life. “No. I am able to manipulate his thoughts,” she said, even though she doubted the truth of it.
“And he remembers nothing of his time here?”
“No. Nothing.”
Sylvester craned his neck, a movement he often used to suppress his frustration. “You will call me if you need me?”
Ivana offered a reassuring smile. “Of course.” If Leo made a sudden decision to use his sword she would not have time to scream. “Ask Julia to draw a bath, and I’d be grateful if you would prepare a room for our guest.”
Sylvester eyed the man behind her with some suspicion. “How long will he stay?” Recognising the impertinence in his tone, he added, “I will need to inform Frau
Hermann that we’ll need more blood.”
Ivana considered the question. The answer would depend on whether or not he accepted her motive for turning him, whether he accepted she had a justifiable reason.
She shrugged. “Perhaps an hour.” The image of her headless body lying sprawled in a pool of blood flashed into her mind. “Perhaps a night.”
The thought of a night spent knowing he was close caused panic to flare, and she quickly dismissed it.
Sylvester sighed. “To let him stay longer than that would be dangerous.”
Ivana nodded. “I know.”
“Shall I take his sword?”
“No.” She shook her head while attempting to give a confident smile. “Beneath the bravado he has a fear of being here. Let him keep his weapon if it brings him comfort.”
It could well be a decision she would regret.
Sylvester nodded and moved to walk away.
“Tell Herr Bruhn all is well,” she said. When warming her cold bones in her tub, she would attempt to send peaceful thoughts to the old man. He needed his rest and could not spend the night lying awake worrying. “Tell him I shall call to see him tomorrow evening.”
A gust of wind breezed over her, the wet gown clinging to her body, and she shivered as though shrouded in a sheet of ice.
“We should go inside.” Ivana turned to her guest who was standing in the courtyard staring up at the parapets. “Sylvester will escort you to your chamber and find something dry and suitable for you to wear. We shall continue our conversation in the Great Hall when we reconvene in an hour.”
He glanced down at his sodden cloak, patted the material moulded around his muscular thigh. “I shall accept your hospitality but only because I want to hear the truth from your lips. Because I owe it to my brothers to provide them with an explanation for the misery you have caused.”
His brothers?
She inclined her head. “I understand. Have no fear. You will receive the information you seek. It may surprise you to learn I would never break an oath. Indeed, without honour and integrity, we have nothing.”
Leo raised a cynical brow. “Save the preaching for someone more inclined to believe you.”
“You might change your mind about me. Then again, you might not.” Ivana simply smiled as she walked past him. “I must take a bath. Sylvester will see to your needs.”
“Wait.” Leo caught up with her as she approached the large oak door, placed his palm flat against the studded surface in a bid to prevent her from entering. “Despite all you’ve said, I do not trust you. I’ll not leave your side while I'm here.”
“What?” she snorted incredulously. “Do you intend to watch me bathe?”
The question caused a frisson of desire to ripple through her, an odd sense of excitement at the prospect of teasing him. It had been three years since she had felt the warm glow of passion ignite — three years since he had awakened a feeling she thought was lost to her.
“I intend to remain at your side until you have told me what I want to know,” he said coldly, but it did not dampen her ardour. “Only then shall I reassess my position. Only then shall I decide what to do with you.”
Something in his tone caused the hairs at her nape to spring to life. The shiver running down her back had nothing to do with the biting wind.
“Do what you will,” she replied, keeping her voice calm and even. She glanced at the sword he’d replaced in its harness. “Under the circumstances, I am hardly in a position to protest.”
Leo dropped his hand and gestured to the door. “Then lead the way,” he said with a hint of contempt.
Ivana led him up the curved stone staircase to the tower chamber, aware of his sudden intake of breath. “Do you recall coming up here?” She was curious to know what he remembered.
“I have seen these stairs many times in my dreams.” He made an odd puffing sound. “While I no longer sleep, my mind still drifts, still wanders. I often see images dancing before my eyes.”
She entered her chamber, but he lingered in the doorway.
“You may come in. I’ll not bite you again.”
“Am I supposed to be amused by your comment?” With hesitant steps he walked into the room, moving to look out of the large arched window. “Is this where you stand and search for your victims?” he said pointing to the cluster of rooftops below.
“No.” She moved behind the dressing screen as Julia and Sylvester entered carrying buckets of water. “Many English aristocrats and noblemen pass through here eager to experience the beauty of the forest before heading down into Switzerland and Italy. Some call it a Grand Tour, but there is nothing grand about the way they behave.”
He made no reply, and remained silent while her servants filled the tub.
She came around the screen wearing her robe, her damp hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. “I had to look no further than the local tavern to find men worthy of my disdain.”
His head shot round, his furious glare softening a little when he observed her relaxed attire. “What gives you the right to judge? What gives you the right to play with the lives of innocent men?”
Julia stepped forward and held on to the robe to protect Ivana’s modesty as she stepped into the tub. Her maid had travelled with her from London many years ago. The grey hairs at her temple were a constant reminder of her mortality and it broke Ivana’s heart to think of a life without her companion.
“Oh, I believe I have earned the right to punish those with no regard for the welfare of others.” Ivana swished the warm water over her arms. “I act on behalf of those without a voice. And I would hardly call the men innocent.”
Glancing up, she caught his heated gaze, heard the ragged sound of his breathing. Muttering a curse, he turned to the window. “Then tell me what I did to force your hand. Tell me why you chose me to be the recipient of such a wicked curse.”
Ivana touched Julia’s hand as she wiped her shoulders with the wet cloth. “Leave us. I shall be quite alright here on my own.”
Julia’s thin lips were lost in a grimace. “I will wait outside should you need me.”
Ivana nodded. “Leave the linen towel on the floor. Close the door and do not enter unless I call for you.”
As soon as the door met with the jamb, Ivana stood up. The sound of water cascading from her limbs caused Leo to turn around, his eyes growing wide at the sight of her naked body.
Ivana had no shame — not anymore.
The children’s welfare was the only thing that mattered to her.
As she stepped out of the tub, she ignored his foul-mouthed rant, his garbled demand for decency. But all words and actions held some purpose or meaning for her. Leo’s lustful glare confirmed he still battled the demons within. It confirmed that his memories of her were not lost, only buried.
“What?” she mocked as she stood by the fire and dried her body with the towel. “Are you not familiar with the female form? Were you not the one who insisted on staying while I bathed?”
He moved to turn away, yet she could hear the restless sound of his chaotic thoughts.
With an arrogant curl of the lip and a stubborn stance, he faced her fully. “You’re right. It is nothing new to me. Nothing I have not seen a hundred times before.”
Despite his desperate effort to demean her, she took no offence. “Exactly,” she said noting how his wandering eyes betrayed him, how easily they revealed the truth he would not speak. “You should change out of your wet clothes. Sylvester has put a shirt and breeches on the bed, and you’re welcome to bathe in my water.”
He glanced at the copper vessel; inevitably the thought of relaxing his cold and tired muscles proved too tempting to resist. “Very well.” Even in those two little words, his tone held a supreme confidence in his ability to overthrow her in this battle of wills. “But I’ll keep the sword with me.”
“I can leave the room if you’d prefer.”
“No. You will stay where I can see you.”
On
her part, it was another test.
Stripping him bare would create a certain vulnerability, a realisation that they were merely people: flesh and bone, living, breathing. He would remember this moment if he ever dared to wield his weapon.
Of course, it would also give her the opportunity to test her resolve. Would his body be as magnificent as she remembered? Would she be just as eager to break the oath she had made before God?
Ivana slid the loose white gown over her head and then sat down on the bed to brush her hair. “Shall I ask the servants to move the dressing screen? It will allow you a little privacy.”
He snorted as his black cloak fell to the floor. “You’ve drunk my blood, ripped my soul from my body. You’ve taken everything I have. What need is there for me to hide away in the shadows?”
She had not taken everything. Some things he had given freely.
“We have shared much,” she said watching him unbuckle the leather straps at his shoulders. “Things you do not remember.”
When his linen shirt joined the cloak on the floor, she drank in the sight of his broad chest, her gaze focusing on the branding she’d had no choice but to burn into his chest. The muscles in her core pulsed; her heart was beating so fast she struggled to swallow.
She had felt this way about him from the very beginning.
When he unbuttoned his breeches, she tried to feign indifference. But his arrogant gaze met hers as the garment slithered down over his hips.
Ivana could not suppress the soft moan that left her lips as lascivious images of the nights they had spent together flooded her mind. Desire burst bright inside. She wanted him — just as she had wanted him on that first foggy evening three years ago.
“You are just as I remember,” she said before running her tongue over her teeth for fear her fangs would protract, for fear she would drain him dry as she took him into her willing body.
“Once again, you appear to have an advantage,” he said as he climbed into the tub and bent his knees to let the water lap his shoulders.
“Then perhaps it is only right I even the odds, so to speak.”