“But, being a widow, she might be up for a good bit of fun.”
“I highly doubt that.” Malik tried to keep his temper under control.
“You never know.”
Irritation crunched down his spine. He knew that Saint was doing it just to get a rise out of him. It didn’t seem to matter. At the moment, he wanted to do nothing more than punch the damned smile off his face.
He opened his mouth to talk, but something moved across his senses. Something that smelled like blood, and a lot of it. It was wrong, though, as if it were tainted.
“You smell that?” Saint asked. His voice was strained. Malik understood. The wave of nausea did not surprise him.
“Outside.”
Saint nodded and followed. He felt the gaze of every Born and Made in the room. He ignored it.
When they reached outside, the scent almost overwhelmed them both.
“Bloody hell,” Saint muttered. “What is that?”
They walked down the street and into a darkened alley. Even in the dim light, they could see the bodies lying on the ground, the figure standing over them. They were men, not women, dead on the ground.
The vampire looked back over his shoulder at them. Blood dripped from his fangs and down his chin.
“Suprema!”
It echoed down the alley. It was only a matter of time before people detected them. He had never done it, never killed another Made, but he knew without a doubt this was one gone wrong. He had slipped over the edge and was trying to make his own vamps.
He pulled out the stake, but before he could act, Saint had his out. The Made approached them, slowly at first, then he ran at full speed. Saint stepped in front of Malik and without hesitation, Saint pulled his arm back and stabbed the Made through the heart.
The only sound from the Made was gurgling as he fell to the ground. He convulsed a few times, then went still.
“This is a bloody mess,” Saint said as he looked over the three bodies.
“What was he doing?” Malik asked. “Could he have been feeding and lost control?”
“Does it matter?” Saint’s voice sounded as weary as Malik felt.
Malik nodded. “But, I guess we can figure that out. First, we have to make it all disappear.”
* * * *
Nico listened to the tale. He did not interrupt. When Malik finished, he thought about the implications.
“Do you think he was confused?”
Malik shrugged. “It could be. Maybe his Maker did not keep control of him or explain. If they are surviving now, it seems that whoever planned this—”
“We know who it is. It’s Neal.”
“Well, if it is Neal, then he might be over his head.”
“And they are running around on their own trying to survive,” Saint said with a nod. “That would make sense.”
“Do you think he was a pederast?” Malik asked.
“As in he didn’t understand what his body was telling him to do?” Nico nodded. “It could be.”
They had some Mades and even Borns who preferred their own sex. It wasn’t taboo in their world as it was in the human world, but for a Made with no direction, if he were inclined that way…it would be confusing.
“He could have also been directed to do it.” He looked at Malik who appeared older than he had ever seen his friend look. “It would be impossible to tell his Maker no.”
“Thank you for cleaning it up,” Saint said.
Malik nodded. “I am not sure about Saint, but I am ready for my bed.”
“Agreed. I think we will skip tomorrow night. I am just too tired to deal with another trip to that damned hell.”
A few moments later, he was left alone to his thoughts. He had left Cordelia in bed, sleeping like an innocent. She was, in so many ways. He wanted to shield her from this, to make sure that nothing ever touched her.
He rose from his chair and walked to the window. He wished it was just a few problems, just a few Mades in an attempt to take over their world. That would be easy to deal with. This…this was something different.
Neal was planning something. Last time Neal planned something, it left his family in mourning. He could not let the bastard win. Not this time.
This time Nico would make sure he felt the last beat of Neal’s heart as he died.
Chapter Seventeen
Nico watched the dancers at the ball and tried to ignore the frustration pounding through him. It had been a month and they were no closer to finding Neal.
“You mustn’t frown so much, Nico,” his father said.
“You sound like mother.” He knew he was being rude, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“You look angry and frustrated.”
He tried to smile, but he knew it looked false. “I do not look frustrated.”
"Yes you do. If there is one thing we know about that bastard, it is that he is watching you. More than likely Neal is in this ballroom, and he is taking delight in your behavior."
He rolled his shoulders and ordered himself to relax. His father was right. Neal was a bastard, one of birth and of character. He had befriended Nico in hopes of getting into the Alliance and making connections. It did not happen. Not because he was a bastard by birth—there were enough of them around the Alliance—but because with Neal, there had always been rumors about him, about the fact that his birth father was insane. His sire had disappeared years before and had never been heard from again. Of course, part of it had to do with the fact he was Scottish by birth. Many of the lowlanders and English did not trust the Borns from the north.
"You should be paying more attention to your bride. She is conquering the ton with ease."
He glanced around the room and found Cordelia. His father was right. She fairly glowed with new confidence, and unfortunately, too much of her showed in the dress she was wearing.
"What was Mother thinking when she ordered that dress for her?"
"It is modest compared to some."
Yes, but her neck was exposed so...enticingly. The dress was brilliant red with a little too much of her breasts on display. Still, she had walked down the stairs earlier and he had forgotten how to speak. She looked like a diamond of the first water. He could scent her blood from across the floor, and it was driving him a bit batty. Every time he drew in a breath, the urge to march across the room and drag her away almost overwhelmed him. It would not do, especially since this was their first official ball as a married couple. They were stuck there. He ground his teeth together trying to keep his incisors in check.
The actions of the ton had not made it easy for him. From the moment they arrived, she had been surrounded by both vampires and humans. The women had tried to gain her attention—the same women who had ignored her only weeks earlier and had treated her like an outcast. The men, well, there were one or two of them Nico would be talking to.
Then his eye caught on Saint working his way through the crowd. The fact that his cousin had not disappeared to the north to hide in his castle told Nico their problems were very grave.
Then he realized Saint was going to ask Cordelia to dance.
"I guess I should see to my bride."
"Indeed," was all his father said as Nico strode off to meet her.
He reached her before Saint did, and the knowing look his cousin gave him told Nico he had been doing it on purpose.
"Hello, my dear," he said.
Cordelia smiled at him. It was a full grin that showed her dimples. "Good evening."
Nico would never admit to the fact that she had his heart skipping a beat or that his head spun a bit from her attention. For a few moments, he did not say anything. Everything around them seemed to disappear, and it was as if they were back home, alone. A hum of need wound through him, flowing through his own blood. The one message that he heard from his inner beast was to take. Take, conquer, ravish.
Saint cleared his throat, and Nico realized that the people circled around his bride were staring. Cordelia blushed prettily bec
ause she knew exactly what he had been thinking.
He pushed the thoughts of seduction aside, for now. He held out his hand. "I would greatly appreciate a chance to dance with you this evening."
The string across the bow signaled the start of the waltz.
"But of course." She looked at her circle. "Please excuse me."
She put her hand on his arm, then jolted when she saw his cousin. "Oh, Saint, I did not see you."
“I was just keeping an eye on you, Lady Cordelia."
"An eye?" Nico said.
"Yes, and if you know what is precious, you would make sure to stay close."
It wasn't a threat or even a warning. It was more of an advisory. Saint had a fantastic sense of intuition. Something bad was right around the corner, and he wanted Nico to know. Nico glanced at Cordelia then at Saint, who nodded imperceptibly to tell Nico he had felt something off about Cordelia's safety.
He led her to the dance floor and drew her into the waltz.
"What on earth was that about?" she asked.
"Saint has...visions. He is worried about you."
She nodded. "We really did not need to come out tonight. We could have stayed home."
It was his choice. He did not like putting her on display for the ton or Neal Pearson. But he knew without a doubt that they needed to be out and about. Even though, now, he could not remember why it had been important.
Cordelia moved through the dance effortlessly. "No one expects me to be that active. My family was known for their debauchery. Not many of them, cousins included, are seen about in society."
"Mother thinks it is important."
"And I am sure it is best for the bad Born to see us. You do not want to be seen as retreating."
He glanced at her as he worked his way around an old duke and his young daughter.
"Retreating?"
"I do not know much, Nico, but you seem to be worried a lot lately, and I’m thinking that possibly this has more to do with you. Also, there have been meetings at our house. I know it is not this Alliance that I hear talked about. That is much bigger and I have a feeling, ruled by more than just a handful of Borns."
She was too smart for her own good.
“It is also good for your reputation.”
She rolled her eyes. “At the moment, I don’t care. I would much rather be at home.”
The thought had his heart warming. Right now they were stuck in London, searching for Neal under every rock. His cousin and his cohorts had not found one lead on Neal, but they were all positive he was the man at the center of everything. The death toll was rising, and now even the human authorities were giving them problems.
“Do you think we will have to stay that long tonight?” Cordelia asked, breaking into his thoughts.
“We need to stay at least until dinner.”
She sighed. “All right.”
They danced for several moments in contented silence before she spoke again. “Do you have anything new on the investigation?”
“No, not really.”
It was true. Dead bodies had been littered over most of London’s stews, but there was not one bit of evidence that Neal was still alive. The bastard had outdone himself this time.
“If you would tell me a little more, I might be able to help.”
“Absolutely not.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and he realized that he had talked quite loudly.
“It isn’t safe for you to be involved.”
She did not like the answer but she said nothing else about it. As the dance ended, the dinner bell rang, and he knew he had been granted a reprieve. He knew she wanted to discuss the investigation, but he could not allow that. The less she knew the better.
* * * *
Two days later, Cordelia was summoned to Nico’s library in the middle of the day. As she walked down the hallway, she wondered what her husband would want from her. Nico had been the same passionate lover at night, but he had been a bit distant during the day. No more daytime trysts in the library or even in her room. The one thing she did find wonderful is that he slept with her every night. She knew the ways of the world. Husbands and wives in the upper classes rarely slept together. Nico barely spent time in his own room now.
She reached the doors and found them open. When she stepped into the room, she found her editor from the paper there, Mr. White.
"Cordelia, it seems that your employer was worried about you." Nico's voice did not sound very welcoming.
"Oh, Mr. White, I am so very sorry that I forgot to contact you."
The elderly gentleman smiled. Every time he looked at her like that, it reminded her of Tibbens, the gardener her family had when she was a youth. He used to sneak her sweets when her father wasn't looking.
"I see that congratulations are in order."
Mr. White didn't sound angry, but there was an edge of concern in his tone. Nico was mad, that was for sure. She could feel the anger rolling off him as she walked across the library to address Mr. White.
"Thank you so much. I do apologize. Everything happened so fast that I did not have time to contact you."
Mr. White sighed and shook his head. His blue eyes twinkled behind his spectacles. “I hate to lose you, Lady Cordelia. You are my best writer, but I wish you luck."
He gave her a hug. "Make sure he treats you like the prize you are," he whispered in her ear.
Before she could respond, he pulled away.
“I apologize for the interruption, Mr. Blackburn.” With a nod to Nico, he left them alone.
It took a few moments for her to compose herself. She knew that Nico was not happy. She turned to face him, and he was as distant as he was before they married.
"Would you care to explain?"
"I needed money, Nico. You of all people can understand why I would have to work."
"I understand that. I cannot understand why you would not tell me you were working."
She blinked at his tone. She had heard him unhappy, teasing, but she had not heard him with anger vibrating beneath the surface as if he could barely hold onto his temper.
"I don't truly know. With everything that happened, it slipped my mind."
"Are you working on another article?"
She widened her eyes. "What?"
"Are you writing another article? I think the question is easy enough to understand."
"What would I be writing an article about?"
"Vampires."
She stared at him then rolled her eyes. "I would not write an article and expose you or your family. What do you take me for? Even if I had wanted to—which I do not—no one would believe me."
He ground his teeth together. She could actually hear them move against each other. It was starting to become a nuisance. She hated that she heard conversations and the sounds on the street in the middle of the night. Every day, the ability grew, and she found herself more and more aggravated by it.
"So you did think about it."
"Nico, stop it. You are starting to irritate me."
"You. You are irritated?" He stalked from behind the desk, his frown threatening. "I think I have more of a right to be irritated."
She took a step back from him, then stopped herself. She crossed her arms beneath her chest. "What are you talking about?"
"A strange man just showed up at my house demanding to see you in person because he wanted to make sure you were not in danger."
Her heart softened. Mr. White had never been that talkative, but he had been a fatherly figure, one who paid more than he should have for her articles. She knew he did it to help her. She would always have a soft space in her heart for the man. A confirmed bachelor, he had never wanted to marry, but he had taken her under his wing as if she were his own daughter.
"And do not get that dreamy-eyed look on your face. I want an explanation."
She blinked. What on earth was he talking about? "Want an explanation?"
"I demand one."
"I explained myself ear
lier. I worked for him, writing articles about the ton." Why was he so upset about the fact she had been employed?
He studied her for a moment, his teeth mashing together.
“Oh, will you stop that. I can’t stand hearing you grind your teeth together.” The noise was driving her mad.
"I was an assignment."
That was the problem. She nodded. "Yes, you were. There was a question about where your money came from. Of course, I did not know you had hundreds of years to acquire it."
Her voice was almost as loud as his was.
"And so I was just an assignment you felt you needed to seduce."
She frowned at him, confused. "Seduce? Really Nico, do you think I knew what to do with you? You're the one who made the advances."
"But now I know what really attracted you."
"What is that?" He’d admitted he was first attracted to her because she was a Carrier. Did he suspect her attraction was also based only on instinct?
"My money."
She wanted to roll her eyes and laugh. Why would anyone want Nico just for his money? Did he not see his appeal? Apparently not because he was staring at her as if she was a snake in his garden.
"Your money? Nicodemus Blackburn, you are a numbskull."
He paid no attention to her name-calling. "I demand to know if my money is why you followed me into the room that night."
She could see the anger in his eyes but couldn’t stop herself from saying what she was thinking. "In a way it was."
He took a step closer and towered over her. "Explain yourself."
"First, stop looming over me.” She waited until he took a step back. “Second, if you did not have the money, I would not have been following you for a story. And I was hiding from Hurst. I did not know where you had gone because I was trying my best to avoid him. But I can assure you that your money would not be enough to compensate for your personality."
She shouted the last of the statement. He blinked and took another step back from her. He looked confused and a bit wary. Good. She was sick of men pushing her around. First her father, then her brother, and now Nico.
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