Bite at First Sight (17 page)

“The time has come to take this city from Rafael Villar’s reckless clutches,” Clayton declared to his audience.

The assembly of vampires cheered in accord. He fought to hide the bright surge of triumph that swelled within him. Nearly half of the London vampires were here tonight.

“How are we to accomplish such a substantial feat?” Elizabeth, one of the wealthier and more powerful vampires, inquired blandly. “We cannot exactly storm Burnrath House with torches and pikestaffs as if it were the Bastille. The mortals would take notice.”

Clayton concealed an irritated frown. He’d never liked Elizabeth. As they were nearly the same age, she had been his biggest rival in the vampire hierarchy. However, she seemed to have soured on Rafe’s reign as well. Why else would she be here? He scratched his chin and eyed her speculatively. If he could guarantee her loyalty, she would be his best choice to serve as his second-in-command.

“We will not be doing any such thing, Elizabeth,” he said with an indulgent smile. “Aside from drawing unwanted attention from the humans, that type of action would not be honorable. We will issue an official challenge and meet Rafael Villar and his meager company of allies in a discreet location to demand his surrender and negotiate terms.”

“And if he doesn’t peacefully step down and allow you to take over?” she asked politely, though with an unmistakable note of challenge.

His eyes narrowed. “Then we fight.”

“Are you certain that taking such drastic measures is a wise course of action?” Elizabeth continued to argue in a damnably reasonable tone. Had she been a man, she may have made an excellent lawyer. “You are speaking of civil war. Lives could be lost. Not only that, but the Elders would be angered. We could all be punished severely for this rebellion…perhaps even executed.”

“
This
is not a rebellion. This is a revolution. And revolution is the only course of action,” Clayton said firmly. He raised his voice, addressing every member of the congregation. “As I’ve since made clear, Rafael Villar has placed us all in danger with his
involvement
with that mortal female of his. I was reluctant to say this before, lest I cause a panic, but I see now that it is necessary to tell you all…”

“Tell us what?” many vampires echoed. “What has the Spaniard done now?”

Elizabeth remained blessedly silent and watched him with avid interest.

Clayton’s fists clenched in righteous outrage as he faced them intently. “He is harboring a mortal who may be even more dangerous than a vampire hunter…which I am still not convinced that she is not. You all saw that she carried a journal when Villar presented her to us, yes?”

“Yes!” another vampire called out. “She tried to write in it during the meeting, before the Spaniard stopped her.”

Many others nodded in agreement, declaring that they saw her as well.

Just on cue, William raised his voice over the clamor. “What was she doing with that book, my lord?”

“She was writing down the secrets of our kind, almost certainly with the intent of sharing the information with her fellow mortals. I have already reported this to the Elders…” Clayton was gratified to hear pleased gasps and murmurs at this bit of news. “In the meantime, Villar must be stopped, and Lady Rosslyn must be destroyed”—he paused dramatically before adding—“as the Elders themselves already commanded. Our very safety depends on it!”

The vampires roared and bared their fangs in enthusiastic agreement. Elizabeth remained silent, all of her meddlesome arguments torn away. Clayton gave her a satisfied smile. He had shown her who was in the right.

Clayton paced in front of them, imagining himself a noble general rallying his troops. “On the fifth of November, Rafael Villar
will
surrender to us or fall to our fangs, swords, and might in battle.”

Cheers and applause shook the rafters until dust rained down upon the masses. When his audience quieted, he bowed with a flourish and made his exit as a star performer should.

Adrenaline still pumping from his rally, Clayton grinned in satisfaction as he made his way home. He would be a far better Lord Vampire than Villar. He knew how to hold a crowd under his sway.

“M’lord.” William’s footsteps and whining voice cut through Clayton’s euphoria.

“What?” he snarled.

The vampire emerged through the thick fog coming off the Thames, regarding him with hunched shoulders. “C-could you spare a bit more blunt? I need… I need…”

From the sight of his bloodshot eyes and trembling hands, Clayton knew exactly what William thought he needed. He ground his teeth in fury. The vampire’s petty opium addiction had made him more of a liability than an asset of late.

He sighed. “Come here.”

William approached with a wide-fanged grin, resembling a happy bulldog.

Clayton glanced around and sniffed the air for any sign of witnesses before snaking his hand around the back of William’s neck and slamming him face-first into a nearby brick wall.

“I told you to quit that vile drug,” he snarled.

Over and over he pounded the vampire’s face against the hard surface, a red haze of rage overlaying his vision thicker than brick dust. He pounded until William’s skull shattered in his hands, leaving behind a mess of flesh, bone shards, and gobbets of brain matter where a head should be. Still, William’s body twitched.

Reaching past his overcoat, Clayton withdrew a long knife from the sheath at his belt and plunged it into William’s back, twisting until he reached the heart. When at last the vampire went still, Clayton threw the corpse into the Thames. He prayed it would sink before sunrise.

Yet another inconvenience to blame on Villar. A proper lord should never allow drug-addled cretins to live.

After washing his hands in the stinking river, he shoved his hands in his pockets and continued home.

* * *

Lenore moaned in bliss as the sweet blood flowed in her mouth. She could feel her body being rejuvenated, coming back to life like a hawthorn after winter’s long chill. For the first time in weeks she was warm, cocooned in heavenly soft blankets.

“That is enough for now,” a deep and somehow ominous voice declared.

The source of her sustenance was gently but firmly withdrawn from her mouth. Lenore whimpered in protest. She was still so very hungry.

“Come now, open your eyes. You’ve been unconscious for four nights. I know you’re awake and I’m ready for some explanations,” the voice commanded.

Though Lenore shivered in reluctance, her eyelids fluttered open. A small cry caught in her throat at the sight of the Lord Vampire of Rochester poised above her, healing a wound on his wrist where her mouth had been. No wonder the blood had been so potent.

Her tongue ran across her fangs, tasting the dark spice of his power. A hot tremor flashed though her body, pulsing deeply in the sore place between her thighs. The sensation triggered memories of her recent violations. Lenore bit her lip to hold back a scream and turned her focus to her surroundings before her traumatic recollections could overtake her sanity.

She was lying in the softest bed imaginable in the largest, most ornate bedchamber she’d ever seen.

Rochester leaned forward, lacing his long fingers together as he regarded her with cold, black eyes. “Now that we are alone, Lenore, would you care to tell me how you came to be wandering in my territory, starved and beaten like a mongrel dog?”

“I-I…” she stammered, overwhelmed and intimidated by his powerful presence. He could never know the shameful details of what had transpired in Clayton’s cellar.

No one could.

His already dark features twisted into a harsh mask. “It wasn’t Lord Villar, was it?”

“No!” She shook her head fervently, wishing she had the strength to rise. “It was Clayton Edmondson, his second-in-command.”

“On Villar’s command?” he inquired sardonically.

Frustrated with his insistence on twisting her words, Lenore slammed her fists on the mattress. “Certainly not! Clayton had rogues abduct me, and then he held me captive as part of his plan to discredit Lord Villar.”

Rochester raised a brow, his gaze rife with scornful disbelief. “Why does he want to discredit him? And why bring rogues into the mix?”

Lenore fought to maintain composure under the intimidating force of his presence as she explained everything she’d overheard during her nightmarish imprisonment. “His ultimate plan is to overthrow the Lord of London and take his place.”

“Ah, so there is to be a revolution in our esteemed capital,” the vampire mused aloud, running a hand through his long, dark curly hair.

She nodded solemnly. At least he believed her. A small light of hope illuminated her consciousness. Perhaps he could help. Rochester was certainly a powerful vampire, and Lord Villar could use all the help he could muster.

“Clayton is like a deadly spider, spinning a web of deception around London’s vampires. Nearly half the lot have fallen for his lies.” Lenore shuddered in fear and disgust as vivid memories of her cruel treatment under his care haunted her like malicious phantoms. “He plans to challenge Lord Villar soon.”

“I do not see why this should concern me,” Rochester said coldly. “I have always been neutral. Aside from that, Villar and I have never been on agreeable terms. Frankly, it would surprise me if he was amicable with anyone. He’s such a prickly fellow.”

“I think it very well
should
concern you.” Lenore used all of her strength and courage to sit up and face him boldly. It was time to stop cringing. “If London comes under Clayton’s control, countless vampires will suffer as I have. That is something that should concern all of our kind. And if he can allow rogues into his territory and abduct vampires, what is to stop him from meddling with your people?” She softened her tone. “Please, my lord, help Lord Villar stop this insurrection.”

“You plead a pretty case, my dear.” Rochester’s thin lips curved in a patronizingly indulgent smile. “However, it has never been my policy to become involved with the struggles of others. Now, enough about me. There is something else that has me curious. Why is it that you came here instead of running to your own lord for protection?”

Lenore sighed. She’d anticipated this question, knowing that on the surface her actions didn’t reflect well on her lord. “Clayton and the rogues he set to pursue me blocked all routes to Lord Villar’s abode. If I had tried to go there, they would have caught me for certain.” Chills ran over her flesh at the vivid memory of that harrowing chase. “Once I had left the city, a better plan came to mind.”

“And what would that be, youngling?” His voice was tinged with mockery.

Refusing to be daunted, she told him.

For an endless moment, he stared in thunderstruck silence.

Finally, he threw back his head and laughed. Lenore shivered at the rich, decadent sound. When he recovered, he eyed her with the first genuine smile she’d seen on his cynical countenance. Something warm and unfamiliar fluttered in her belly.

“That is the most reckless and hazardous plan you could possibly conjure up. Also, the boldest. I toast your courage, little one.” His black eyes glittered with amusement. “Yet I must ask: How did you expect to reach your destination on time in your weak and malnourished condition?”

Her shoulders slumped as the bleak logic in his words sank in. “I do not know.”

With unbelievable gentleness, he ran a hand through her tangled hair. “Very well, I shall tell you. You will stay here another day and recover your strength. Then I shall see about securing your passage on a ship.”

“Thank you, Lord Rochester. I will never forget your kindness.” Overwhelmed with gratitude, she placed her hand on his.

Rochester blinked as if surprised at her touch. Slowly, he took her hand and squeezed it gently before firmly moving it away. “Oh, I would not say I am helping you out of kindness. You will owe me a favor for this, Lenore, as will Lord Villar. And I always collect my debts.”

25 October 1823

Rafe studied Cassandra’s lips as he moved his rook across the chessboard. They were red and puffy from his kisses. He could not wait to kiss her again. He licked his fangs, eyeing the mark on her neck from his bite. He couldn’t wait to taste her again as well.

Last night had been a revelation. It had been more than achieving long-denied physical gratification, more than reveling in the joy that he could once more elicit cries of pleasure from a beautiful woman. It had even been more than having the ability to use both of his arms for such a delightful experience.

Last night had been
everything
because it was with her.

“Check,” she announced, not even bothering to hide her triumph.

Rafe smiled at her enthusiasm. He’d had centuries to perfect the game. Thus far no mortal had beaten him, and very few vampires for that matter. The Lord of Cornwall, however, trounced him regularly.

“It is only because I am distracted,
Querida
,” he argued gently.

She blinked and that lovely mouth of hers gave the most delightful moue. “Distracted by what?”

“You,” he said, blatantly staring at the curves of her breasts above her emerald brocade gown. How he longed to touch them again.

The way her cheeks pinkened and then turned crimson filled him with delight he’d never known. Tonight he would ensure that blushes covered every inch of her succulent flesh.

Rafe shook his head and sighed in exaggerated regret. “Alas, for now, I shall have to put forth the utmost effort to focus my attention on the game. Losing under such circumstances would be most humiliating for me.”

Cassandra grinned and opened her mouth for a rejoinder, but then she fell silent as they heard approaching footsteps in the corridor outside. Rafe cursed the interruption to the seventh circle of hell.

Anthony entered the library, pale and gasping with exertion. “My lord, Elizabeth is here with urgent news.”

Rafe looked up from the chessboard and sighed. “Bring her to me.” Meeting Cassandra’s concerned gaze, he attempted a glib smile. “I shall never have any peace here, it seems.”

“Perhaps the news is good,” she ventured. “Maybe the missing vampire has been found.”

Her hopeful tone warmed him more than the cheery fire in the hearth. He coughed and looked down at the game lest anyone see how calf-eyed he must appear.

The door opened and Anthony ushered in Elizabeth. She was tall, regal, and feminine despite her shabby male attire. And she looked terrified.

“What is it, Elizabeth?” he asked in as gentle a tone as he could manage.

She took a deep, shuddering breath. “My lord, I’ve just come from a meeting that Clayton arranged.”

“Clayton isn’t supposed to hold meetings without clearing them with me first,” Rafe growled. Then it dawned on him. He cursed himself for a fool. “He is plotting an insurrection.”

Elizabeth nodded and Anthony cursed behind her.

Rafe sighed and lit a cigar. “How many stand with him?”

“Nearly half of London, my lord.” She cringed as if expecting to be punished for bearing bad news.

“But you do not,” he mused aloud, warmed at her loyalty. “That is why you’ve come to warn me.”

A measure of anxiety left her features before she bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

“When is he planning to make his move?” He tried to sound unconcerned as he tapped his cigar in his little tray.

Elizabeth’s voice shook as she replied, “He will issue an official challenge on Guy Fawkes Night.”

“How terribly gauche. ‘Remember, remember the fifth of November…’” He shook his head. “At any rate, he’s a quick bugger. And a conniving one as well, for the Elders’ deadline would be up on the fourth and all his people would see Cassandra alive and still human.”

“There is something else you should know,” Elizabeth continued as if reading his mind. “William is with him.”

A bitter chuckle escaped Rafe. “I should have known.”

“What are you going to do, my lord?”

Rafe drew deeply on his cigar and considered the two vampires before him. It was far past time for him to have made this decision. “Well, since both my second- and fourth-in-command have betrayed me, I suppose I had better replace them before I can do anything else. Elizabeth, you have demonstrated sufficient loyalty. Are you willing to serve as my third?”

Elizabeth sank to one knee and bowed. “I would be honored.”

Rafe turned to Anthony. “And would you be second?”

“Of course, my lord.” He bowed as well, eyes sparkling with the smile he tried to conceal.

Cassandra frowned and shook her head.

“What is it,
Querida
?” Surely she would not see fault in his edict.

“The situation with William,” she said slowly, toying with a chess piece. “I know it sounds strange, but he tried to help me once. Perhaps that was the beginning of his turning against you. I should have mentioned it sooner.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Help you
how
?”

“He offered to help me escape.” Cassandra’s brows drew together in confusion. “It was very odd. I thought he didn’t like me, but there he was, trying to be helpful.”

“Oh, he wasn’t trying to help you,
Querida
.” Rafe’s voice was low and dangerous, betraying his fury. “If you had left my custody, your life would have been forfeit. William wanted to see you dead and me discredited. Likely it was Clayton’s idea. I wish you had told me sooner.” His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. “I would have throttled them both.”

Elizabeth gasped. “My lord, your hand! When did it get better?”

Rafe gestured to Cassandra, unable to hide a tender smile as he gazed at her. “When I absconded with this magical healer.”

The female vampire’s eyes widened. “So she truly is a physician!” Elizabeth turned to face Cassandra. “My lady, you cannot know what this means for our kind. What you have done for our lord is nothing short of a miracle.”

She turned back to Rafe. “We could have our own doctor! The first one of our kind. Lord vampires around the world and even the Elders themselves would benefit greatly.”

“You mean vampires have never had their own physicians before?” Cassandra interjected, green eyes wide with fascination.

“We heal fast and do not suffer from any illness,” Rafe explained, charmed with her inquisitiveness. “Also, not only has a practitioner of medicine never joined our ranks, but we never saw a great need to have one. Though considering that others have surely suffered injuries like mine, it is a great oversight.”

Elizabeth leaned forward. “Don’t you see, my lord? You must Change her at once! Not only to ensure her safety from Clayton and his allies, but because she could be one of the greatest assets our kind has ever seen!”

“I would if I could,” Rafe replied almost too softly to hear. His entire soul writhed in miserable self-loathing.

Cassandra gasped and whirled to face him, eyes wide with fear and accusation. “I beg your pardon?”

Elizabeth’s jaw dropped. “What do you mean?”

“I mean”—he choked out the words, full of burning regret—“that I Changed another only two years ago…and illegally at that.”

Why had he wasted the strength he’d gathered for centuries just to repay a debt of honor? It seemed so pitiful now.

The female vampire blinked in outraged disbelief. “Who?”

“It is best you do not know,” Rafe told her tiredly. “The Elders may get wind of my actions, and I don’t need anyone else implicated in my folly.”

* * *

A lump of ice formed in Cassandra’s chest, the chill spreading to pool in her stomach.

She opened her mouth to say something, she didn’t know what, and all that came out was a feeble squeak.

“
Querida
?” Rafe’s voice sounded tinny and far away, as if he were speaking through a long, dark tunnel.

She averted her face. If she looked at him now, she would cry, and there was no way she would allow such an indignity. The other vampires’ faces blurred in her vision.

“Anthony,” Rafe said softly. “Take Lady Rosslyn upstairs.”

The other vampire bowed stiffly, sherry eyes glimmering with pity. “Yes, my lord.”

Gently, as if assisting an elderly woman, he took Cassandra’s hands and carefully pulled her up from the chair. She wanted to tear away from his grasp, to demand explanations, to rant and rail, but the shock of Rafe’s confession refused to relinquish its paralyzing hold.

Numb and as empty of will as a discarded toy, she allowed herself to be led away. Only when she was alone in the bedchamber did the tears begin to fall down her face. Cassandra dashed them away with an angry fist, but still they came.

How could he have led her to believe that he would Change her? How could he have made love to her in this very bed when he’d known he would eventually have to kill her? She hadn’t believed him capable of such monstrous deception. She’d been a fool.

Cassandra glared down at the massive bed as if the elegant piece of furniture had also betrayed her. Though the bed was now immaculately made with fresh sheets, her traitorous mind called up images of Rafe’s hands and mouth working their dark magic on her naked body. Even worse, the place between her legs pulsed with acute arousal at the memory.

“I have to escape this place,” she whispered, dread choking her words. “I can’t let him kill me.”

Despite that dreadful truth, her heart ached so severely that she almost wanted to die. Cassandra frowned as she shook off the macabre thought and clenched her fists.
I
will
not
give
him
that
satisfaction!

Forcing her mind to cut itself from her tumultuous emotions, she focused instead on how to escape.

She would have to leave London; that much was for certain. She didn’t think William had lied about everything when he’d offered to aid her escape. Rafe probably could sense her Mark. It would be best to get out of his territory as soon as possible.

Besides, there was nothing for her in this city anymore. She’d always been an outcast, and now aside from Sir Patrick, she was completely ostracized. Sir Patrick would be willing to take her in, but there was no way she’d put him in danger. Rafe had said if she left this house, her life would be forfeit, along with any who offered her aid. Her fists clenched. Her life was also forfeit if she stayed.

So, where
would
she go? Unfortunately, her usually agile mind was drawing a blank—except for haunting images of Rafe’s rare tender smile and memories of his decadent kiss.
No! That way lies madness.
Closing her eyes, she tried to conjure up a prospective destination.

Regrettably, none came.

To her frustration, tears once more threatened.
Maybe
I’ll just catch any dratted ship and go wherever it takes me.
The more she thought about it, the more attractive the idea became. Perhaps it was best that she didn’t have a destination planned. Theoretically, that should make her more difficult to track.

Cassandra threw open the wardrobe and began seizing gowns and throwing them on the bed. By the time she’d stripped the mahogany relic bare, she was panting in exhaustion.

Too late she realized that there was no way she’d be able to pack and haul a trunk without the vampires taking notice. Groaning in vexation, she fetched her valise and stuffed it with as many articles of clothing as would fit, along with a few novels.

Taking a deep breath, she hefted the stuffed valise over her shoulder and tried the door. It was unlocked. Rafe still seemed to trust her, even though he’d betrayed
her
trust.
I
must
not
think
of
him
anymore.

Squaring her shoulders, Cassandra tiptoed down the corridor as quietly as possible. As she passed her laboratory, her mind and spirit screamed at her not to abandon her precious texts and equipment. Things she’d painstakingly worked for years to acquire. But they would be of no use to her if she was dead.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she carefully made her way down the servants’ staircase and out the back door.

As she left the rear gate reserved for servants and delivery men, Cassandra turned and looked back at the ancient Elizabethan mansion, yet she did not see it. All she could see was the glowing amber of Rafe’s eyes and all she could hear was the warmth in his voice as he called her “
Querida.
”

Go
back!
the lunatic inside her heart called.

Cassandra ignored its tempting plea and allowed logic to carry her away.