Demon of Mine (34 page)

Damon peered
down at her palm, a hint of curiosity diluting his anger. A small
scrap of red fabric stood in stark contrast to his mother’s
porcelain skin. He touched it lightly, letting the expensive silk
glide across his fingertips. “Perhaps it’s a scrap from the
kidnapper’s clothing.” A strange bit of material to be torn from a
man’s ensemble – a bit of a particularly fine kerchief, perhaps? It
didn’t matter. Lucinda knew the abductor’s identity. “Thank you for
showing me, mother.”

“
Do
you want it?”

“
No. I’ll remember its appearance well enough.”

“
Very well.” She closed her hand, hiding the crimson scrap.
“See that you’re mindful of your own safety. Don’t do anything
rash.”

He said
nothing as she turned and glided down the hall. His own safety was
the furthest thing from his mind, but he wasn’t about to ignite an
argument. “Come,” he said, resting a hand on Lucinda’s arm as soon
as his mother had disappeared. “To the library.”

Normally, the
slightly musty smell of books soothed Damon. As he stepped into the
library, it set him on edge. Elsie’s absence was a wound that
nothing, save her return, could heal, least of all the scent of
aging pages. He turned wordlessly to Lucinda as the maid pulled the
door shut, affording them the privacy necessary to speak
freely.

Lucinda cut
mercifully to the chase. “Jenny was out for a Sunday walk when she
spotted someone she thought was suspicious and gave chase. She
ended at a townhouse in a rather shabby part of the city, where she
is convinced that Elsie is being held. After listening to her
story, I am quite disposed to believe her.”

“
Someone suspicious? Who?” Damon clenched his fist even more
tightly around the letter, crushing it, his ire fueled by the
sudden promise of Elsie’s captor’s name.

“
Véronique Renard.”

It had been
years since Damon had actually seen Véronique Renard, who he’d only
met once, but that didn’t matter. Stories tumbled through his mind;
disgusting tales that had made him hate her just for being a
Renard. The infamous family had made Paris their own private hell –
the city’s crime rate would practically be cut in half if it
weren’t for its immortal residents, among whom the Renards were the
most prominent. “You’re sure?” He thought of the scrap of red silk
– it could easily have come from a fine lady’s dress.

“
I
saw her with my own eyes.” The maid – Jenny, Lucinda had called her
– stepped forward, her pale eyes shining with solemn conviction. As
if she’d been waiting for an opportunity to enter the conversation,
she spilled her secrets in a rush. “She has a partner – a man, an
Englishman, though I don’t know his name. I heard them arguing
about the three murders; the ones where the victims’ hearts were
cut out. Véronique was responsible for those. She said she killed
those people to lure you away from Elsie.”

A sharp pain
twisted through Damon’s chest as Jenny delivered the blow so
matter-of-factly. He’d acted like a fool, walking into the trap
like an ignorant animal to slaughter. What a poor husband he’d
been. Elsie deserved better. “Did you see Elsie?”

“
No.”

“
Did they speak of her?”

“
Yes, a little.”

“
What have they done to her?”

“
I
don’t know.” Jenny displayed her hands in a plaintive gesture.
“Véronique and her partner…they mostly bickered. They spoke of the
murders, and of the man killing his own brother, and something
about a letter.”

Damon slowly
unfurled his fist, revealing the mangled ransom note. “I’ve
received the letter.” He thrust the wrinkled piece of parchment
toward his sister, suddenly eager to be rid of it. The maid sidled
up to Lucinda’s elbow, craning her neck to read along with her.
Lucinda gave no sign of having noticed, let alone annoyance. They
both finished at about the same time and looked up with wide-eyes.
Jenny was nearly pale enough to be a vampire herself. “Where did
you get this?” Lucinda asked.

“
It
was tacked to the door at the servants’ entrance around the back of
the house. It was there when I arrived just a few minutes
ago.”

Lucinda laid a
hand on Damon’s arm. “Ten thousand pounds is not an impossible sum.
I’m sure father will agree. I know he and mother were shocked by
the marriage, but they are not cruel. As mother just said, father
has already hired a detective to search for Elsie and—”

“
The sum does not matter. I will not hand over the ransom and
leave Elsie to Véronique and her accomplice’s mercy. You know about
the Renards’ reign of terror in Paris. Fairness is not in their
nature, nor is honesty.”

“
I
was only trying to think of Elsie’s safety, but I suppose you’re
right.” Lucinda glanced to the side as she spoke, as if she were
interested in the view the large widow at the end of the room
afforded.

Damon knew
better. “You were not thinking of Elsie’s safety. You were thinking
of mine.”

Lucinda met
his eyes again. “I know you intend to charge to the rescue as soon
as I give you the address, but think of the—”

“
Of
course I do! She’s my wife. And she’s your sister. How could you?
I’d thought better of you, Lucy.”

“
I
am not pleased that she’s been taken. She is my sister, but you are
my brother. Confronting the kidnappers will be dangerous for both
of you.” She lifted her chin and gave him a level look. “I’m not
ashamed to admit that I loathe the thought of losing you
both.”

Damon ground
his teeth, craving the darkness that would transform them and give
him the strength to exact the revenge he could almost taste. “I
assure you, I will never again be pleasant company if my wife is
murdered. You’re wasting your time if you think you can convince me
to render payment and wait around for Véronique to spare Elsie’s
life.”

“
I
thought you’d say as much. If that is your decision, then I will of
course go with you.”

“
That will not be necessary. I—”

“
You’re wasting your time if you think you can convince me to
stay behind.” She shot him a self-satisfied half-smirk.

Damon raked a
hand through his hair and gave in with an exasperated sigh. “Fine.”
He wasn’t going to waste valuable time arguing. If Lucinda wanted
to accompany him, then so be it. “Let us depart, then. What is the
address?”

“
Don’t you think it would be wisest to wait until
sunset?”

“
No. I see no reason not to leave this very minute. Now don’t
toy with me – tell me the address.”

“
I
will, if you’ll only hear me out for one minute.” She plunged on
before he could object or agree. “You wouldn’t put Elsie’s fate in
human hands, would you?” She answered for him. “Of course you
wouldn’t. But as long as the sun shines, you and I are little
better than mortals. It would be foolishness not to wait for
nighttime, when we are stronger and faster – much more capable of
succeeding in the task we are about to undertake. I know you are
anxious to rescue your wife, as any good husband would be, but you
mustn’t let your eagerness cloud your judgment.”

“
I
would believe you Lucy, if our enemies were not every bit as
immortal as we are. They too will be weakened by the daylight and
will hold no advantages over us. We are strengthened by the night,
but so are they.”

Lucinda fixed
him with an imploring gaze. “What of healing? Our bodies cannot
repair themselves during the daytime. Any injuries we – or Elsie –
sustain will have to be endured until nightfall. We both know how
much easier it is to kill a vampire during the daytime because of
this. Think of Elsie. Suppose they harm her. Wouldn’t you rather it
be done after the sun sets, when her body will be able to
resist?”

“
I
would rather she not be harmed at all, which is why I’m so anxious
to go to her.” He turned on his heel, refusing to look at Lucinda,
if for no other reason than because she was right. “Sunset is still
hours away…” He glared at the window, hating it for the bright
light it admitted. Resisting the urge to run out into the streets
and blindly search every nook and cranny of the city for Elsie had
been difficult enough. Now that he knew he could go directly to
her, it was almost impossible to remain still long enough to listen
to Lucinda and Jenny explain what they had learned.

“
I
know,” Lucinda said, settling a hand on Damon’s shoulder, “but we
shall use the time wisely. We shall prepare for tonight’s
mission.”

Jenny
interrupted by clearing her throat, which was just as well, for
Damon had run out of reasonable arguments. “Yes?” he asked, more
sharply than he had a right to, considering that it was thanks to
the maid that Elsie had been found in the first place.

“
Begging your pardon sir, but there’s one thing you should
know. The man who’s aiding Véronique is not immortal. At least, I
don’t think he is. He spoke as if he were human.”

Strange that
Véronique should choose a mere mortal for an ally. Strange, but
fortuitous. “Lucy, are you sure you still want to come? It seems I
would not be outnumbered, were I to go alone.”

“
Of
course I’m sure.” She stepped between him and the window and fixed
him with a stubborn look he knew well.

“
Then the two of us will go together, and Elsie shall be back
here before midnight – I swear it.”

Chapter 20

The herbal tea
must have been losing its effectiveness, for Elsie woke, for the
first time since her abduction, from a dream. Before, her sleep had
been deep and devoid of fantasy. This time she’d dreamt of Damon,
so vividly that she could still feel the silk of his hair between
her fingers. Real as it seemed, the empty ache in her core let her
know it had only been an illusion. She relished the phantom
sensations as long as she could, squeezing every bit of life from
the memories before they evaporated like fog beneath sudden
sunlight. When they were gone she forced her heavy eyelids open,
only to be greeted by the dark inside of the sack that had been
pulled over her head.

At least she’d
been able to wake. The last thing she remembered was the shock of
seeing Lord Griffith and her failure to convince him to release
her. Who knew how much time had passed since then? She might not be
waking up each time between doses. She had no way of knowing, which
meant she had no idea how much time she had left. The ransom
letter’s strict timeframes and harsh threats were burned into her
memory. Closing her eyes, she fought to clear the mental fog from
her mind. Her headache was gone – did that mean it was nighttime? –
but her head throbbed anyway with fatigue, blurring her thoughts if
she let them wonder. It was a sound that brought her to full,
incredulous consciousness.

She sat up
straight, automatically testing her bonds, which were still as
tight as ever. The sounds were low and rhythmic, almost steady.
They seemed to be emanating from what she’d come to think of as
‘the next room’ – the place where Griffith was apparently fond of
sleeping and Véronique seemed to like harassing him. By the sound
of it, they’d finally stopped bickering. Instead of reprimands and
defenses, there were passionate groans, accompanied by creaking
floorboards. Elsie’s eyes bulged, despite the fact that she
couldn’t see anything. Véronique and Griffith were…rutting? ‘Making
love’ didn’t quite seem the right term, though the act certainly
added a whole new facet to their unlikely partnership. Elsie sat
for a moment in stunned silence before it occurred to her: if she
was ever going to attempt to escape, now was the time. She was
bound hand and foot, but there was a window. If she could manage to
stand, she might be able to throw herself through the glass, chains
and all.

****

“
Only a couple more blocks and we’ll be there,” Jenny said,
puffing as she jogged to keep up with Damon and Lucinda’s quick
strides. The maid had stubbornly insisted upon accompanying them,
convinced they would need her guidance to find the place where
Elsie was being held captive. She gave excellent directions,
leading them down darkened, winding streets with confidence. Still,
her thoroughly human speed, or rather lack thereof, slowed them.
Damon forced himself to maintain a pace the poor girl could keep up
with, though every restrained step added fuel to his burning
ire.

“
There it is.” Jenny stopped on a street corner, breathing
deeply as she pointed to a townhouse at the end of a row. Of
relatively low quality in the first place and in poor repair, it
hardly seemed an ideal headquarters for a high-stakes kidnapping
operation. Perhaps that was its appeal – Damon never would have
looked at the lackluster house and guessed its purpose.

“
Wait here,” Lucinda said, casting a commanding look over her
shoulder at Jenny as she stepped out into the street.

“
No.” Damon turned to the panting maid. “I am familiar enough
with the city to know that this is not an appropriate place for a
young woman to linger alone after dark. She’ll be safer coming with
us.”

Jenny trotted
after them without complaint, looking relieved. Whether that was
because she feared the nighttime streets more than the vampire that
lurked inside the house or because she thought she could be of
assistance during Elsie’s rescue, Damon didn’t know. She was either
frightened, brave or simply stupid. “Just stay behind us,” Damon
said, keeping his voice low as they approached the house. A single
light burned in one window, its luminescence muted by a
considerable layer of grime and an even thicker curtain. “Don’t do
anything rash, and don’t get in my way.”