My Lord Immortality

by Alexandra Ivy

  “Nefri,” he said in clipped tones.

  “Yes,” she agreed slowly. “That was the name that he gave her.”

  “She is the most powerful and wise of all vampires.”

  A shadow drifted over her face as she absorbed the significance of his confirmation of what must seem to her a figment of her worst nightmares.

  “How . . . how do you know that?” Her gaze frantically searched his features, perhaps desperate to reassure herself that he had not changed into a monster before her eyes. “Sebastian?”

  “You are certain that you desire the truth?”

  She bit her lip until she drew blood, but with that stubborn courage that he so admired, she kept her gaze steadily locked with his own.

  “I must know.”

  Sebastian heaved a sigh, his hands clenching at his side. Bloody hell. He wished that Lucien, or even Gideon, were here. They were both far more experienced in handling the peculiar emotions of mortal maidens. No doubt they had easily managed the women they had been commanded to protect with perfect ease. He, on the other hand, was far more comfortable hiding behind one of his books. He was bound to make a botch of this.

  Pushing back the heavy strands of his hair, he heaved an unwitting sigh.

  “It was Nefri who sent me to London. She wanted me to protect the amulet, as well as you, from Mr. Ramone.”

  “I . . .”

  She was shaking her head in denial even before he finished speaking. Her expression was nearly undoing Sebastian.

  It was more than fear, or even dread. There was a poignant ache of disappointment that he did not believe he could endure.

  “Amelia.” He instinctively stepped forward, only to halt when she hurriedly backed from him.

  “Why would she send you?” she demanded, still unwittingly clutching the Medallion as if she could gain courage from it.

  “Because I was chosen by the Great Council of Vampires to come.”

  “No.” Without warning, she sank to her knees, her head bowed so that her hair tumbled forward to hide her face. “No.”

  Moving swiftly, Sebastian was kneeling at her side, his arm gently cradling her shoulders.

  “Please look at me, Amelia.”

  He heard her choke back a sob of distress. “A vampire. Dear God.”

  Sebastian was out of his depth and utterly uncertain as to how to comfort the poor maiden. Silently he cursed Nefri for thrusting Amelia into such danger, and himself for not having the skills that were clearly needed.

  “Amelia, you must not fear me,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the soft satin of her hair. “I would never harm you.”

  She shivered, but much to his relief she slowly lifted her head to meet his anxious gaze.

  “I do not fear you, Sebastian,” she said softly. “As ridiculous as it might be, I somehow know you would not hurt me.”

  He released a shuddering breath, his hand moving of its own accord to cup her pale cheek. She had not fled, nor fallen into hysterics. She had not even condemned him as a villain. Instead she had willingly listened to the whispers of her heart, rather than giving in to panic.

  Her astonishing valor never failed to amaze him.

  “It is not at all ridiculous,” he assured her. “It is the bonding.”

  Not surprisingly, her brows drew together in bewilderment. “The what?”

  “The bonding.” His thumb shifted to absently stroke the corner of her mouth. Inanely he recalled just how sweet those lips had tasted. How they had tempted him to drown in their promised pleasure. “It gives one the power to sense and feel what is within the soul of another.”

  She merely gazed at him for a long moment. “Oh.”

  “What is it, my dear?”

  “This is all so bewildering,” she whispered at last, closing her eyes as if wanting to shut out the vast upheavals that had tortured her so this evening. “Heavens above, I did not even believe that vampires existed just a few hours ago. Now I learn I am being hunted by one and protected by another.”

  Pulling back, Sebastian regarded her pale features. Even in the shadows, he could not miss the lines of brittle strain. His heart clenched. Brave or not, Amelia was near to total collapse.

  Unfortunately, the stubborn woman would never admit to such a weakness. It would be up to him to insist that she have a care for herself.

  “You are tired, my dear. I will take you to your chambers and then escort William to his own. We will speak of this further on the morrow.”

  “Yes,” she agreed wearily, allowing Sebastian to tenderly pull her to her feet. Only when he reached down to firmly scoop her into his arms did she seem to come out of her fog of bewilderment. “Sebastian?”

  He smiled deep into her eyes as he smoothly moved out of the library and toward the stairs.

  “For once allow someone else to care for you, my dear,” he commanded softly. “You do not have to be strong tonight.”

  To her utter astonishment, Amelia discovered herself tumbling deep into sleep the moment her head was laid upon the pillow.

  Whether it had been the stress of the night, or the soul-deep knowledge that she was safe within Sebastian’s home, was impossible to say. All she did know for certain was that when she awoke to discover the late morning sunlight shafting through the chamber, she felt considerably stronger.

  Rising into a seated position, she gazed about the room Sebastian had carried her to only a few hours before. It was nicely situated with a bay window overlooking the front street. The furnishings were typically English with yellow satin wall panels adding a lovely brightness. But as with most of the house, there was a decided air of neglect.

  With the careful eye of a woman already in control of her own household, she took disapproving note of the dust clinging to the tall armoire and the dullness of the mahogany chairs and tables. It was only when she was debating the effort of polishing the delicate crystal chandelier overhead that she at last realized the absurdity of her thoughts.

  What did she care if the entire house could use a good scrubbing? Or that there was a dampness in the air? Such things were meaningless nuisances that she was using to hide her true troubled thoughts.

  Perhaps not surprising, she acknowledged wryly.

  Who would not prefer to dwell upon spider webs and dust rather than face the brutal truth that her entire world had been thrust upside down?

  Unwittingly she clutched the blankets up to her chin. Vampires. Was it even possible? Until yesterday she would have thought anyone mad to claim that such monsters existed, let alone walked the streets of London. But, on the other hand, how could she deny what she had witnessed?

  She had seen Mr. Ramone with blood shimmering on his lips. She had seen him shift into nothing more than shadows before her very eyes.

  And there was that . . . tingling awareness within herself that she could no longer deny.

  Her fingers lightly touched the Medallion about her neck. Whatever the powers of the amulet, she feared that they were affecting her. Perhaps even altering her. She could see the world more clearly, her senses heightened to an aching sensitivity. It was in the heavy warmth of the air, the faint scratch of the linen sheets against her skin, and the scent of dust and old wax.

  More astonishing, if she were to close her eyes she knew she would be capable of knowing the precise location of Sebastian, and, to a lesser extent, her brother. She even feared she might be able to sense the distant presence of Mr. Ramone.

  As if to prove her point, a sudden rash of goose bumps tightened her skin. Turning her head, she watched as the door to her chamber was opened and Sebastian stepped in.

  Beneath the cover, her body trembled. Not from fear. As she had admitted last night, she could not bring herself to believe this man would harm her. No matter what he was. But that did not stop the stark realization that he was not the person she had presumed him to be.

  He was mysterious, dangerous, and intent upon fulfulling his duties. Duties that she must force herself to ackno
wledge were far more important than her or her happiness.

  The silver gaze was guarded as he studied her sleep-flushed face. Then, with slow steps, he crossed to settle upon the edge of the mattress.

  Amelia was immediately conscious of his male heat. Vampire or not, he was still compellingly beautiful, his burnished hair framing the pale, finely chiseled features and his muscular body attired in a golden coat and ivory breeches.

  And he still managed to send a thrill of sensuous awareness searing through her blood.

  Warily she forced herself to meet the piercing gaze, futilely hoping that he couldn’t read the wicked direction of her thoughts.

  “Good morning, Sebastian,” she managed to croak.

  “Amelia.” He continued to search her countenance, as if seeking reassurance that she was not about to plummet into hysterics. “How are you this morning?”

  She suppressed an absurd desire to laugh. How was she?

  Confused, terrified, and wishing that she could convince herself that this was all some horrible nightmare.

  She clutched the covers closer to her chin. “I am well. Have you seen William?”

  “Yes. He is eating his breakfast in the kitchen.”

  “Oh.” It took a moment before her brows abruptly drew together and the terrible memory struck at her heart. “But your housekeeper . . .”

  The elegant features hardened with a dangerous anger before he began to ease the tension from his body. It was not gone. Amelia could still feel the frustrated heat smoldering, but it was more under control.

  “Thankfully I am capable of producing a passable meal when called upon.” He gave a faint grimace. “Well, perhaps passable is a rather generous choice of words, but it is edible.”

  With a faint pang, Amelia realized that she had not even considered Sebastian’s own loss. He would no doubt blame himself for the death of his servant.

  “Thank you for caring for William,” she said softly.

  “’Tis nothing, my dear.”

  “It is far more than most gentlemen would do,” she uttered unthinkingly before abruptly blushing in confusion.

  Swiftly realizing the cause of her discomfort, Sebastian offered her a wry smile.

  “I may be a vampire, Amelia, but I also hope that I am a gentleman.”

  Her blush only deepened at his words. “Of course you are. I am sorry.”

  Regret, and something that might have been pain, flashed through the silver eyes as he studied her bewildered unease. Reaching out, he lightly touched a curl that lay against her cheek, his touch sending a poignant sweetness through her body.

  “Perhaps we should finish our conversation,” he murmured.

  She bit her lip. A cowardly part of her wanted to close her ears and pretend that none of this was occurring. Perhaps if she ignored it all, it would simply go away.

  But the greater part of her rebelled at such foolishness. She had always faced the world as it was, not as she desired it to be. Even this.

  “Yes.”

  His fingers continued to toy with the stray curl, but a distant quality entered the silver eyes, as if he were looking within himself.

  “I will not bore you with a long history of vampires, any more than to say that once my brothers roamed freely among humans. Unfortunately, the tales of our savagery were not a myth. A vampire is both blessed and cursed by bloodlust.”

  She shivered in spite of herself. “Bloodlust?”

  “It is a vampire’s hunger to consume the warm blood of mortals. By taking the life and soul of a human, we are granted many powers. We possess great strength and are capable of changing our form.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. She had to distance herself from his words to keep the horror at bay.

  “Such as becoming a shadow?” she demanded, anxious to keep talking.

  His eyes darkened, easily sensing her raw nerves.

  “Precisely. But along with such powers it also brings with it the curse of being vulnerable to both fire and sunlight.”

  Her brows rose as she noted the pool of light that even now surrounded him.

  “Sunlight?”

  He smiled faintly. “I speak of the years before Nefri, our leader, created the Veil.”

  She struggled to follow his peculiar explanation. “What is the Veil?”

  “It is a boundary that separates our worlds. Beyond the Veil, vampires are no longer plagued by the hot passions that once ruled us. We live at peace with one another, able to devote our considerable intelligence to elevating ourselves far beyond the brutal predators we once were.” Perhaps unconsciously, his features softened as he spoke of his home. She did not need to be told that he deeply felt the loss of being with those of his kind. “The Veil also purified the curse of bloodlust. Unless I were to consume the life of a human, I remain immune.”

  Amelia attempted to ignore the wistful pang of loneliness that she sensed within Sebastian. It made him seem vulnerable, and almost . . . mortal. And echoed far too closely her own feelings of isolation.

  It also threatened to distract her from the troubles at hand.

  “But not Mr. Ramone?”

  “No.” His hand dropped to lie clenched upon the blanket. The mention of his fellow vampire was clearly distressful. “He has chosen to return to a life of violence.”

  “Why?”

  He slowly shook his head, his gaze shifting toward the distant window.

  “It is difficult to say. There are always those vampires who believe that it is their right to have dominion over humans. They resent the loss of the powers and their sense of divine superiority.”

  Amelia regarded him with a frown. It was odd to consider that vampires would be so plagued by human frailties. Pride, conceit, the lust for power.

  Whatever their superiority, it did not seem that they had managed to progress far beyond the weaknesses they had hoped to leave behind.

  “I still do not understand what this has to do with me.”

  The piercing gaze returned to her. “The Veil was created with the powers of an ancient vampire artifact. The Medallion.”

  Suddenly and sharply, she was aware of the heavy weight of the necklace as it lay against her skin. The odd warmth of it spread through her body, bringing the sense of peace and courage that she had come to depend upon.

  “My amulet?”

  “The amulet is but a piece of the Medallion.”

  She should no doubt have been terrified of the thought of possessing such a strange and formidable artifact. Who could possibly know what it was doing to her? Or how it might affect her in the future?

  But she could conjure no unease. The amulet had not harmed her. Indeed, she had never felt more keenly aware, more involved with the world about her. She found it very difficult to imagine a future without its comforting presence.

  Almost as difficult as a future without this gentleman who had so tangled himself in her heart and soul.

  “And it was Nefri who gave it to me?” she demanded.

  “Yes, in the guise of an old Gypsy.”

  “But why?”

  He took a moment to consider his words carefully. Amelia felt a rueful impatience racing through her. He was a man who always weighed and thoroughly pondered his every thought and action. It was a trait that she both admired and found oddly frustrating.

  Just once, she wanted to see him stripped of his stark self-control. She wanted to see the truth of his soul without the carefully constructed barriers that he hid behind. She wanted him to be as prey to his emotions as she was.

  A childish, and perhaps even dangerous, desire, she was swift to chide herself. She had already seen the horror of one vampire who readily wallowed in his darker side. Did she truly wish to have Sebastian behave in a similar manner?

  “Some time ago it was discovered that three renegade vampires had slipped through the Veil with the intention of gaining command of the Medallion,” he answered in careful tones. “Nefri realized the danger should the traitors succeed. Sh
e made the decision to divide the Medallion into three amulets and bind them to mortal maidens. As an added precaution, I was sent, along with Lucien and Gideon, to ensure that the amulets were kept safe.”

  She pressed herself deeper into the pillows, her eyes wide. There were other vampires roaming through the streets of London? And other maidens who were being hunted just as she was?

  Her brows drew together at the thought, and then suddenly she regarded him with a question in her eyes.

  “Bind the amulets? What does that mean?”

  “The amulet is a part of you,” he said softly.

  She was not unduly shocked. Even now, she could recall the strange warmth that had flowed through her when the Gypsy had pressed the amulet into her hand. She had known then that it was more than a mere piece of metal. The only true mystery was why she had accepted such a dangerous gift.

  “I see.”

  Sebastian leaned forward, his features severely outlined by the sunlight. There was a quiet, relentless strength in that countenance that spoke of a dangerous adversary.

  “It was necessary, Amelia,” he said, although she was uncertain whom he was attempting to convince. “It was the only way to keep the traitors from merely killing you and taking the Medallion for their own. If you die, the power within the amulet is lost.”

  “Dear heavens,” she breathed, her heart missing an entire beat. “Then why does Mr. Ramone hunt me if it cannot be taken?”

  “It cannot be taken but it can be given freely.” He regarded her with a solemn expression. “That is what he seeks.”

  She shuddered as she recalled that dark, glittering gaze as it had regarded the amulet with a savage desire. At least she now comprehended why he had not simply slaughtered her and taken what he so wanted.

  The knowledge should have been reassuring, but the thought of Mr. Ramone attempting to lure the amulet from her grasp made her skin crawl.

  “Freely given,” she muttered. “That is what the Gypsy warned me of.”

  His hand once again gently cupped her cheek as he regarded her with a fierce expression.

  “The amulet must be protected, Amelia. For the sake of both vampires and humans. Should the Veil fall, both our races would suffer unbearably.”