The Red Lily (Vampire Blood)

by Juliette Cross

  “Well done,” said the duke. “Time to go, my friends.”

  Sienna flipped up the hood of her cloak and followed Grant into the darkened corridor outside the duke’s private parlor.

  The Duke of Winter Hill was not at all what she had expected. Well, perhaps his appearance was what she expected in a vampire duke. Shiny brown hair to his shoulders that looked silky to the touch. Sharp, regal lines of cheeks and nose; broad, intelligent brow; and fine, square jaw. He stood evenly in height with Nikolai, but his carriage was different. Whereas Nikolai seemed always on alert, even when he was in a relaxed posture which wasn’t often, the duke had a casual swagger to all of his movements. Not a care in the world. And yet the keen intelligence in his gaze warned that he noticed everything.

  All of these traits were expected of royalty in the Varis line, but it was his demeanor and attitude that was unexpected. Yes, she knew that he was their ally long before they’d come to Winter Hill. But he was more than an ally, allowing them to quietly hide in his castle. He was actively making plans against the crown. And he trusted his human servant, Grant, to keep his secrets. Not many vampires, especially royalty, kept close company with humans who weren’t their bleeders.

  Their footsteps echoed on the stone floor. The duke paused outside a great door that must lead into another part of the castle.

  “The house servants are all abed for the night, so our coast is clear. But that doesn’t mean one of them isn’t wandering about.”

  With that he opened the door, and they crossed into a huge ballroom. The chamber was dark but for the moonlight gleaming through tall floor to ceiling windows along the far wall. When Sienna tripped over the lip of a carpet she couldn’t see, Nikolai grabbed her arm to keep her upright. She smiled her gratitude rather than say a word. His otherworldly eyes glowed in the dark as he laced his fingers with her gloved hand to keep her close.

  They crossed the wide chamber, two man-sized fireplaces on either end. Though both grates were cold and unused, she could imagine how they would fill this large chamber with warmth and light for a ball. Once they reached the far corner, Grant opened one of two tall double doors with some kind of lovely iron scrollwork embedded there. He peeked on the other side first, then turned and stepped aside for them to walk through.

  They followed the duke into another long hall, this one bordering an exterior wall, for there were the same tall, thin windows with pointed arches lining the length of it. They walked briskly, their boots echoing on the stone floor. The moonlight created a patchwork through the casements. Sienna marveled that if they weren’t running for their lives, she would be able to appreciate the beauty of this place. The unique architecture and unexpected artistry here reflected its owner.

  Right as they came to the end of the corridor where a wooden door led somewhere else, the door began to open slowly. Grant waved them to the wall behind the door. Nikolai lifted Sienna off the ground and pulled her against him. The duke ducked flush against the wall as well.

  “Sylvia,” said Grant, “what are you doing here this time of night?” He gripped the edge of the door with one hand, blocking the woman on the other side from crossing into the hallway. The yellow glow of a candle shone on Grant’s face.

  A soft voice replied, “I was looking for you. Why did you not come to my bed?”

  Grant’s voice dropped low and seductive, as he lifted a hand and placed it somewhere they could not see. “I will be there soon enough, darling. The duke asked me to run an errand for him.”

  “What sort of errand?” she asked, her question coming out breathy from whatever Grant was doing with his hand not gripping the door.

  “That’s not your concern.”

  Sienna heard the rustle of the woman’s skirt, then she whimpered.

  “Now get back into my bed. I’ll be along and take care of you shortly.”

  “Yes, sir,” she answered.

  The glow of the candle disappeared as he stood there and watched her go. He closed the door and turned to the duke.

  “Give her a moment to get back to my chamber.”

  “Sylvia?” asked the duke, referring to the secret they’d all become privy to just now.

  Grant seemed wholly unaffected about them witnessing his run-in with his lover. He simply shrugged and said, “She’s pretty. And energetic.”

  “She’s barely eighteen,” retorted the duke.

  Grant scoffed with a shake of the head. “She doesn’t act like it. Not with that enthusiasm for—”

  “Wait,” said Nikolai. “Isn’t Sylvia the name of the one who is friends with the nosy schoolteacher?”

  “That she is,” replied Grant.

  “And you decided it wasn’t important to let me know you’re tupping a possible spy among my servants?” asked Friedrich.

  “What better way to get close to a spy?” Grant replied with a mischievous smile.

  “Enough,” said Nikolai, noting once more that this servant didn’t behave like a servant. “We need to move on.”

  “Right,” replied Grant, opening the door and scouting for any other stragglers in the hallway.

  When he deemed it safe, he waved them forward, and they continued on down a narrow spiral staircase. Nikolai kept hold of her hand, moving ahead of her. They came out on a small landing. One way led down another narrow corridor with several doors.

  Grant mouthed servants’ quarters, then he pointed in the opposite direction. The duke had already stepped ahead, leading them down a short hallway into a vast kitchen. Rounding a large butcher block table past a huge cast-iron stove, the likes of which Sienna had never seen, he led them down a dead-end hallway with several pantries. The duke stopped at the last door and ushered them inside.

  Grant turned, shut the door, and slid a heavy bolt home, locking them in the pitch dark. Nikolai grabbed hold of her waist, suddenly on alert. A match sparked as Grant lit a torch he had apparently stashed off to the side.

  The duke stepped toward Nikolai with a hand raised. “Relax, Nikolai. The counter-latch doesn’t engage until this room is bolted shut.”

  “Come again,” he said, his voice even, though his hands still gripped her in a tight vise.

  Grant rolled his eyes on a sigh, another tell that this man wasn’t a mere servant. “The lock spins a set of cogs embedded in the wall that run along there”—he pointed along the shelving and stopped on a narrow shelf loaded with sacks of flour and dry goods—“and sets the lock free there.” He lit a handheld candle with his torch.

  “Where?” asked Sienna, still confused.

  The duke turned a charming smile on her that had surely lured many women to his bed, then gripped the edge of the shelf and pulled, sliding it open on a hinge to reveal an iron door behind it. With the turn of another latch, metallic clicks rolling one, two, three, four, five, then a pop and the door opened inward. The duke pulled it as wide as it would go, a gust of winter wind sweeping in and guttering the candle. Sienna sucked in a quick breath.

  “After you, my lady,” said the duke with a polite bow.

  Grant handed her the candle and she moved forward into the tunnel. There was no light at all, but the biting air told her that it would open up to the outside. The candlelight threw long shadows along the cavernous wall, the stone uneven but smooth. Nikolai kept close to her back, giving her confidence to move swiftly through the dark until they rounded a small bend where she could see gray light up ahead. As they drew closer, the opening revealed itself as a very narrow crag where she had to turn sideways to squeeze through. Directly on the other side stood a thick grove of evergreens, casting ghostlike silhouettes against the moonlit sky.

  The others followed quickly behind her. Grant stepped ahead and waved for them to follow. “This way.”

  “Your candle, my lady,” said the duke, holding out a hand.

  “Oh.” She blew it out, for there was no need under such a bright night.

  He placed the candlestick near the passage entrance and the three set off after
Grant who had snuffed his torch. Winding through the thick trees, Sienna asked, “Are these evergreens native to this area? They grow so thick here.”

  “Yes and no, my lady,” answered the duke. “They are native, certainly. We have patches of them all through these northern hills. But my grandfather had these purposefully planted ages ago to hide our little family secret.”

  “So it was your grandfather who built the passage?”

  “To be sure.”

  “Was there a specific reason or was he simply a cautious man?”

  “My grandfather?” The duke laughed. “He was a vicious, cruel man. Not unlike my uncle, I regret. There was a human uprising during his time. They stormed the castle. After the rebellion, he had this passage built, so there was always an escape route should he need it.”

  Sienna glanced at the duke whose gaze was dead ahead, his expression distant. “And what happened to the rebellion? Were the humans able to get their demands met?”

  “Oh no.” His voice lost some of the lightness that seemed to thread his every sentence. “He slaughtered them all.”

  Nikolai pressed a hand to the small of her back, bringing her within the crook of his arm. “I’m not sure if horses are needed,” he said. “I’d rather be on foot.”

  “What?” Puzzled, her mind reeling from the fact the duke’s grandfather had been a monster of a man, she glanced up at Nikolai in surprise at his odd comment. “What horses?”

  They rounded another evergreen into a clearing just as a horse whickered where Grant stood holding the bridle. Of course Nikolai could hear and smell them long before she could.

  “I think you need them. These are two of my fastest racers.”

  Sienna stepped up to the one where Grant held the bridle, a beautiful pale blond from mane to tail, the tufts of hair above their hooves and their height giving their breed away. She noted the full black, his coat glistening blue under the moonlight tethered to a nearby tree. “These are Arkadians, aren’t they?”

  “They certainly are,” said the duke, his words inflected with pride. He moved to the head of the blond where Sienna stroked her silky muzzle. “This is Astrophel, my shining star. Aren’t you, my beautiful girl?” He stroked her neck and she nuzzled his chest in return.

  “Oh my. Your Grace, we cannot take these horses.” She let Astrophel snuff her hand as she brushed another under her downy soft mane, falling in love by the second. “They are too precious.”

  He laughed, his breath coming out in a white huff. “Nikolai wants to refuse because he trusts his own feet more than my fastest Arkadians. And you want to refuse because they are too fine and valuable. Heed me well, the both of you. You need them. First, understand that you will both tire too soon crossing the north on foot to Dale’s Peak. And Nikolai, you know as well as I that you can’t move at the speed you normally would when you brought Sienna here. Her equilibrium cannot handle it. You’d need a day to recover if you returned the same way you came here. My horses will get you to Dale’s Peak within two days. They are strong and fast. And do not worry, my lady, about the expense. These beauties are on loan only. Whenever you’ve arrived to Hiddleston safely, send word and Grant will come and fetch them.”

  Sienna beamed up at Nikolai. “That settles it then. I’ll ride Astrophel.”

  Nikolai’s scowl fell. He shook his head with a chuckle. “Seems I’ve been overruled.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll get used to that with this one,” said the duke on a wink.

  Sienna didn’t mind his innuendo, because the only woman who could persuade Nikolai of anything would be the woman who held his heart. She hoped that the duke was right as Grant helped her into the saddle. She hid her wince, sitting down gently after the day’s events.

  “And this is Ramiel, my thunder god.” The duke unhitched the bridle and walked the giant black over to Nikolai.

  Nikolai stared straight into the beast’s eyes, its giant head a foot higher than his own. The two seemed to be communicating telepathically. Ramiel neighed and tossed his great head, his mane flying up. Nikolai didn’t budge. After another tense moment, Ramiel lowered his head almost in a reverent bow. Nikolai scratched his muzzle and whispered something low in his ears. The black whickered softly as if he understood. Then Nikolai launched himself into the saddle.

  Nikolai nudged Ramiel forward and reached down, holding out a hand to Friedrich. “Thank you, brother. For all you’ve done.” There was deep sincerity underlying his words.

  Friedrich gripped his forearm in a hand-clasp Sienna had seen other soldiers do. “You are more than welcome. I imagine we’ll be needing each other quite often in the coming days.”

  Nikolai sat straight in the saddle. “All you need do is ask. I’m in your debt.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” Sienna echoed the sentiment.

  “Please call me Friedrich, my lady. And take good care of yourself.” He graced her with one of those brilliant smiles. And while they didn’t have the effect of one of Nikolai’s, her stomach fluttered all the same like a mandatory response when the duke turned his charm on a lady.

  “I will,” she promised with a returning smile, then hitched Astrophel alongside Nikolai.

  Grant stepped forward and pointed to the east. “Right through there, you’ll find a crossroads. Take the eastern path, which is the peasants’ road to the village of Murdoc. It’s craggy and bumpy as hell, but it is the safest for you two. No peasants will be wheeling carts to Winter Hill after last night’s snow, but it is easily traversed on horseback. The other roads are for human and vampire aristocracy and soldiers.”

  “Thank you, Grant.” Nikolai gave a nod. “You’d best get back to Sylvia now, lest she haunt the halls in search of you.”

  He chuckled as Nikolai nudged Ramiel forward. Sienna followed alongside, smiling when she heard Friedrich say, “I believe that’s the first joke I’ve ever heard the man say.”

  Nikolai didn’t even look her way, so they moved on in silence with only the sound of their horses’ hooves crunching in the snow. They found the crossroads easily enough and turned east as Grant had said. The road was more narrow than the wide, smooth roads the aristocracy would travel in their large, posh carriages.

  Astrophel tripped on a rock hidden under the snow but caught her footing quickly enough. Still, the sudden shift caused Sienna to suck in a painful breath.

  “Are you all right?” asked Nikolai, nudging Ramiel closer.

  “I’m fine.” She waved him off. “Really.”

  Nikolai veered Ramiel in front of her, bringing Astrophel to a stop. After unsaddling, he rounded to her side and pulled her down to him, setting her gently on her feet.

  “What are you doing? Why are we stopping?”

  “Because you are not fine. You’re a poor liar. Riding a horse is the last damn thing you should be doing right now.”

  A flush of heat crawled up her neck, remembering why she was so sore. Recognizing the flare of anger riding his vocal cords, she put a reassuring hand on his arm.

  “Nikolai, this is natural. It will heal and go away.”

  “Not soon enough. We have a hard, two-day ride. Give me your hand.”

  She did. He took her by the hand, palm skyward, and rolled her sleeve up a few inches above the line of her glove.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, heart kicking faster.

  “I’m going to give you enough elixir to numb the pain.”

  She tried to pull away, but he held her in an iron grip. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?” he asked, scowl noticeably deep, even in the soft light under the starry sky.

  She laughed, but it was tinged with anxiety not mirth. “You apparently don’t know the true effect of your elixir. Now is not the time to have me…in that state.”

  She tugged. He held his grip and eased closer, backing her against Astrophel who whickered but didn’t move.

  “If I thought you’d consent, I would turn back and let Friedrich give you h
is blood and have it healed instantly. But we both know what would happen then.”

  The duke was descended of the Varis bloodline and held the power to change a human into an immortal. “I’d become vampire.”

  “Yes. And since that is certainly not your wish, I must relieve your pain in the only other way I know how or I will go utterly mad knowing it was I who caused it.”

  She had no reply, simply stared up at him with his earnest expression. “If I say yes, then you must drink.”

  “I don’t need to feed.”

  “Nikolai, you’ve been pale as a sheet since I woke up. You have circles forming under your eyes, and I know it’s from the exertion of the journey to Winter Hill. To bring me to safety. That is the only way I will agree.”

  His eyes slid closed, and he raised her wrist to his nose, nuzzling along the sensitive skin. “You undo me, woman.” He opened his eyes, shining with a preternatural glow, his sharpened canines extending. “Over and over again, you undo me.”

  He sank his fangs into the tender flesh for a brief few seconds, releasing his elixir. Then he set to sucking from the punctures, his mouth warm, his lips firm. Then his potion hit her like a hot blast, the seductive nectar that was Nikolai—a burning concoction of raw need and sensual ecstasy laced with his dominance and power.

  She moaned, gripping her free hand into his hair, wishing she didn’t have on these damned gloves. Or these damned clothes for that matter. He finished drinking and lapped his tongue three times across the wound, then rolled the sleeve back into place.