Four Dukes and a Devil (13 page)

B
lake stood under the hot spray of the shower and closed his eyes. This felt good. Normal. It used to be his routine every morning and night. Now he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a hot shower. The stall was big, too. One of those upscale versions where there were multiple heads and two entrances to it. These vampires sure lived in style.

He was lathering his hair for a second time when Elise stepped into the shower. Blake froze so completely that he didn’t even wipe his eyes when the suds trickled down to them.

She was naked, her body slender and sleek and so unbelievably beautiful that Blake wondered for a moment if he were hallucinating. Elise took the shampoo off the alcove in a nonchalant fashion, pausing to let her gaze sweep over him.

“Without all that dirt, you’re younger than I thought you were,” she said, sounding faintly surprised. Her hand swiped his face, brushing the soap from his eyes and flicking his sudsy hair back. “You look completely different.”

I could say the same thing about you,
Blake thought, unable to tear his eyes away from her pale skin, long legs, petite round breasts, and tight cluster of hair between her thighs. His cock noticed, too, waking up and stretching as if to get a better look.

Blake spun around. Despite everything he’d been through, it looked like embarrassment wasn’t beyond him after all.

“Uh, Elise, I don’t think you should be showering with me,” Blake managed.

He heard the water hit her as she moved closer. God, the thought of how Elise would look with rivers of water streaking down her skin made him harder. All at once, the shower stall felt far too small.

“Why not? I have to keep watch over you, and I needed to shower. I left you alone to relieve your bodily functions, but it’s more efficient for us to shower together.”

She sounded utterly clinical, as if discussing carpooling versus taking a bus. Obviously, being naked in the shower with him meant nothing to Elise. Was it the demon in him that made her consider him as less than a man? Or was it the fact that he was human, and she was a vampire?

Either way, Elise’s complete dismissal made anger flare in Blake. He turned around, his erection jutting out and almost hitting her in the stomach.

“As you can see,” Blake began, “there’s a problem with your
efficiency
strategy.”

Startled, her gaze traveled over Blake in an entirely different manner than it had before, pausing at his chest and stomach before moving lower. With her mouth half-open and the water clinging to her just as sensuously as Blake had imagined, his cock jumped, like it was begging for her touch.

She turned and walked out of the shower without another word. Blake closed his eyes and let out a slow sigh. Then he began to attack his hair with the shampoo again.

Elise was shaken by her reaction to Blake in the shower. Seeing a naked man
shouldn’t
have had any effect on her. Becoming a vampire tended to kill modesty along with a heartbeat, so the sight of bare flesh didn’t hold the same provocative taboo that it did for humans. Plus, she was used to showering in front of strangers, considering she took the majority of her showers at the fitness club.

So the wave of need that hit Elise when she saw Blake naked was a complete surprise. Blake was long-limbed and muscular, his thinness making his body look chiseled instead of gaunt. The dark, crisp hair that covered Blake’s chest narrowed when it reached his stomach, then led in a trail to his groin before lightly dusting his thighs. Looking at Blake, Elise had been overwhelmed by an urge to touch him. She’d stroked his face and flicked her fingers through his hair before she could even stop herself.

It never occurred to Elise that Blake would want her. She was a vampire, he was human. Plus, she was participating in his death, a fact Blake was well aware of. For all his agreement over why he had to die, still, Elise’s position as one of his executioners would hardly warrant affectionate feelings.

Of course, maybe that desire was Blake’s natural reaction to a naked woman—any woman, even her, cold lifeless thing that she was. The thought relieved and saddened Elise.
Just stop,
she told herself.
It was one thing when you were forcing yourself to care about Blake to keep from killing him. Now you’re caring too much. Why can’t you feel things like a normal person, instead of it constantly being all or nothing?

Blake’s coming out of the bathroom interrupted her mental chastisement. He had a towel around his hips, his black hair touching his shoulders and curling from moisture.

“Sorry,” he said, blue eyes steady. “Maybe group showers are just what vampires do, but they’re more than I can handle.”

Elise had to look away. Blake’s earnestness made her heart give an odd lurch, like something was yanking at it.

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” she replied, fighting to keep her voice cool. “It won’t happen again.”

Blake cleared his throat like he was about to say something, then stopped. Elise glanced up, waiting, but his mouth was set in a tight line. Whatever it was he’d been about to say, he’d decided against it.

“Here.” Elise indicated the chair across from her. “Sit. I’ll shave you.”

Mencheres had dropped off those essentials along with some clothes for Blake, since they were close to the same size. Blake didn’t argue about shaving himself. He just sat in the chair and tilted his head back.

Elise approached, her gaze fastened on the long line of Blake’s throat where his pulse throbbed so temptingly. She licked her lips. What would it be like to taste him?

Stop it,
she rebuked herself at once.
He needs your help, not your selfishness.

She lathered Blake’s neck, working quickly with the razor so she didn’t have to be so near to him. Blake’s scent was a mixture of nervousness, weariness, and something else. Something spicy Elise couldn’t name since she hadn’t been able to determine Blake’s natural scent underneath the camouflaging odors of blood and death before. His pulse increased every time she made a stroke with the razor. Was he worried about a vampire holding a sharp object to his throat? Wondering whether she’d be overcome with bloodlust if she accidentally nicked his skin?

“You’re in no danger of my feeding from you,” Elise told him after he twitched when she leaned in close to shave under his jaw. Even with the dabs of shaving cream clinging to his face, without his former shaggy beard, he was more handsome than Elise first realized.

“Do I still smell too bad?” he teased.

No. You smell wonderful, and I’d like to bury my fangs in your throat and hear you moan while I suck your blood.

“I’m not, ah, hungry,” Elise stuttered. Where had her icy aloofness gone? Why was he affecting her so much?

She finished with a last upward stroke of the razor, jumping back to gesture to the clothes on the bed.

“These are for you. I’ll leave while you change.”

Elise almost ran from the room, slamming the door and leaning against it while clutching the razor in her hand.

T
he largest salt flats in the United States were in Utah. Flying would have been the quickest way to get there, but even though Mencheres had a private plane, he didn’t choose that option. Maybe he was trying to give Blake a couple days to prepare for his death.

Driving was another possibility, but that came with its own set of difficulties, the least of which was comfort. Stuffing Blake into a backseat for over two days while driving him to his execution was cruel. Also, the demon had a greater chance of causing an accident and killing Blake—with plenty of people around to jump into—if they were all crammed into a car.

Therefore, Elise was relieved when Mencheres said they’d take a train. It would just be the three of them. Bones had muttered something about it being too soon since the last train he’d taken, whatever that meant, and since he still held a grudge against the demon for its hours of tormenting Cat, Elise was glad Bones and Cat weren’t going.

Mencheres booked two bedroom cabins for the journey. It would take them almost three days to get to the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah. Once they boarded at Union Station, Mencheres closed himself in the cabin with Blake and ordered Elise to sleep in the other one. She’d stayed awake during the night and through the morning to watch over Blake. The demon hadn’t taken him again, however, and Blake had slept like he’d been drugged. It seemed with his fate sealed, he felt relieved, while Elise was the one struggling with anger and doubt.

Once alone in the cabin, Elise didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, but her body had different ideas. The rocking of the train felt comfortingly familiar, lulling her to sleep even though her mind kept whirling. When she woke up, the sky was turning dark shades of orange and blue.
Almost dusk.
She’d slept the rest of the day away.

Elise bolted out of the narrow pull-down bed, guilt filling her. There went six of the fifty-five hours remaining of Blake’s life, and she’d spent it slumbering while Blake had been shut in a cabin with a vampire he barely knew. True, he barely knew her, either, but compared to the time Blake had spent with Mencheres, Elise was an old friend.

She was on her feet and whipping the door open to the neighboring cabin in the next second. Blake looked up in surprise to see her in the doorframe, but Mencheres just raised a brow.

“With your haste, one might think you were afraid I’d lost him.”

Blake was staring rather fixedly at her midsection. Elise glanced down and felt a spurt of embarrassment, of all things. Not at the fact that she was shy over only wearing her shirt and underwear, but at how that revealed her anxiousness to see him as soon as she’d woken.

“I…thought I heard something,” Elise lied.

Her sire gave her a look that said he knew better, but Blake seemed to buy it. He dragged his gaze away from her and coughed.

“I was about to go to the dining cab and get dinner. Did you want to come with me?”

“Yes,” Elise said at once.

A smile spread across Blake’s mouth. It transformed his face into something dazzling, but it also looked so unfamiliar on him, Elise realized this might be the first time she’d seen him smile.

“You might want to put something else on.”

“Oh.” There went that flash of embarrassment again, as if the clock had magically rewound, and she was a girl with her first beau. “Of course. I’ll be back soon.”

Elise returned to her cabin, shaking her head at the strange way she was acting—and feeling.

Blake leaned back in the chair across from Mencheres. There was a pull-down table between them that doubled as a chessboard. They’d played seven games, and the vampire had beaten him every time.

“She likes you,” Mencheres said quietly once Elise left the cabin.

A snort escaped Blake.
I wish.
“She can hardly tolerate speaking to me for longer than five minutes, so you’ll excuse me if I disagree.”

“Youth,” Mencheres muttered. “So blind. Speaking of that, checkmate.”

Blake looked at the board.
How the hell?
“You tricky bastard,” he said, seeing the trap he’d fallen into.

Mencheres gave Blake a tolerant look. “I was alive before chess was even invented. If you could beat me, then I wouldn’t have learned much in my years, would I?”

And Blake knew Mencheres had been around for a
lot
of years. Over four thousand, the vampire had stated casually, as if that wasn’t a staggering number. He’d also told Blake about the history of vampires. How Cain had been the first after God cursed him with forever drinking blood as a reminder that he’d spilled his brother Abel’s. That they lived in structured societies ruled by a head Master, and—contrary to Hollywood’s frequent assertion—wood through the heart was ineffective in killing them. Blake didn’t ask why Mencheres was so free in divulging this information. Who was Blake going to tell? He’d be dead soon.

Elise came back. Her hair was wet, making it appear a darker blond. Her cabin must have had a shower in it like this one did. She wore drawstring cotton pants, which seemed to be her norm, but instead of a zip-up hoodie over her tank top, her arms and shoulders were bare. Blake’s gaze lingered over her pale, radiant skin, remembering what it looked like without clothes covering it.

Figures he’d meet a woman like Elise now, when he was at the lowest point of his soon-to-be-ended life. Blake wished he could have met her before the demon, when he’d be able to take Elise to a real dinner, not just a quick bite on the train’s dining car. Or to a Broadway play, or hell, to a swanky blood bank, if that’s what she liked. Elise had shown him more compassion than most of the humans he’d come across in the past several months. He only wished there was something he could do to thank her.

There wasn’t, of course. All he could do to show his appreciation was to make the last chapter of his life as easy on her as possible. So few things were still within his control, but he could meet his end like a man. No whining or any of that bullshit. Plenty of people died before their time. Because of the demon in him, Blake had been responsible for some of those untimely deaths, in fact. Fair didn’t count for a damn thing when it came to life—why should he cry about not getting fairness in death?

“I’m ready,” Elise said, holding open the sliding door.

Blake stood. “So am I.”
And I’ll prove that, Elise, when the time comes.

E
lise picked at her plate, eating a few bites just to look normal to the other humans in the dining car. Blake had been intrigued that she could eat at all.

She was silent throughout most of dinner, struggling to think up something to say and failing. Blake didn’t seem to expect her to chat, either. Elise felt frustrated. Couldn’t she even make small talk to ease his evening? Was she so out of practice with how to act in a social setting that she’d been stricken mute? She was a vampire; she could lift the train car and carry it if she had a mind to! Yet she couldn’t come up with a way to start a single, pleasant conversation.
How humbling.

“Things have been quiet for almost twenty-four hours,” Blake said.

Shame stung her, forcing out a blur of words. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m not very good at conversations. For years, I hardly talked to anyone aside from Mencheres, and he knows me so well, few words are needed. I would like to speak with you, Blake, but I find it extremely difficult coming up with the proper words to say.”

He stared at her, his mouth quirking. “I meant the
demon
had been quiet for almost twenty-four hours, but…you want to talk to me?”

If Elise had still had blood pressure, she’d have blushed.
Of course
Blake had been referring to the demon. She was the only one focused on herself, narcissistic fool that she was.

“Never mind,” she murmured.

Blake’s hand slid across the table, touching her arm. “I’d like to talk to you, too,” he said. That little quirk to his mouth faded, making his face very serious. “If that’s all right.”

His fingers were warm. Blake wore a white button-down shirt, the neck open, showing off his beautifully sculpted throat and collarbones. Black pants fit him well, emphasizing not only his leanness but also the strength in his legs.

Elise downed her water in a gulp. This was bad. She hadn’t felt this way about a man since—well. And that had ended horribly, too.

“Elise?” Blake was still staring at her. “Is that all right?”

No. Because if I don’t pull back now, if I don’t distance myself from you
this moment
, I’m going to hurt like I haven’t hurt in decades. My coldness and apathy are all that can save me.

But just as Blake was helpless over the fate that brought him ever closer to the salt flats and the end of his life, neither could Elise bring herself to turn her back on him. Some things had to be done, no matter their cost.

“I’d love to talk to you,” she said. “Let’s go back to the cabin.”

Mencheres wasn’t in the cabin when Blake entered it. Elise didn’t seem concerned about his absence, however, so Blake didn’t question it. Maybe the vampire was getting some overdue sleep. Or finding his own dinner.

“Here.” Blake gestured to the bench across from him. “It’s comfortable, if you have a good imagination.”

She smiled, showing pretty white teeth without that curve of fang he knew lurked in her mouth. Even though her hair was still damp, and she didn’t wear a speck of makeup, Elise’s beauty was obvious. She seemed unmindful of the looks she garnered, though. Hell, Blake had thought the train porter was about to ask her out when he dropped off the check.

Was it real?
he wondered. The movies hadn’t been right about much concerning vampires thus far, but what if Elise’s looks were some sort of illusion? A predator’s mirage in order to lure her prey closer?

“Is that your real face? Or do you look…” Blake paused, trying to choose an inoffensive word, “different?”

She frowned. “I look different when I shed my human disguise, if that’s what you mean.”

“Yes, that.” So he’d been right about the glamour. What was under it? “Can I see you? The
real
you?”

Elise’s blue eyes began to swirl with green, growing brighter, until they were pure emerald and cast a glow in the small cabin. She opened her mouth enough so that Blake could see the tip of her tongue touch two white fangs that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“This is me,” she said, voice soft and almost hesitant.

Blake waited for more. When nothing happened, he was confused. “I’ve already seen you like this, right after we first met, remember?”

“I remember.” For a moment, she looked as confused as he’d felt. “I thought you must have forgotten, since you asked to see the real me…”

Blake couldn’t help himself. He laughed, which made her eyes glow an even more vibrant shade of green.

“What’s funny?” She sounded pissed.

Blake waved a hand, controlling himself. “I thought maybe you were using some sort of spell to look so goddamn beautiful, but it’s just you. No wonder Mencheres changed you into a vampire. Who wouldn’t want to keep you around forever if they could?”

Her mouth was still open, but now, it looked more like in disbelief. “You think I’m beautiful like this? But you’re human!”

She said it as if that was a logical reason he shouldn’t. Blake sighed. “Doesn’t mean I’m blind.”

She seemed to shrink a little in her chair, and she looked away. “I’m a vampire. I drink blood, I don’t breathe, and my heart doesn’t beat. Don’t I scare you?”

Blake thought of all the things he’d seen—and done, though thankfully he didn’t remember those parts—the past several months. Elise, scary? She couldn’t be less frightening to him.

“You don’t scare me.” His voice was rough. “In fact, I think you’re the closest to an angel that I’ll ever get.”

Something glittered in her eyes, making them brighter. It wasn’t until a pink tear slid down her face that he realized what it was.

“Oh, God, Elise, don’t cry,” Blake said. He moved the short distance across the cabin to take her in his arms, half-worried she’d shove him away.

She didn’t. Her arms wrapped around him, amazingly silky skin pressed against his cheek. Elise felt cooler than he did, but not in an icy, lifeless way. No, the supple, soft touch of her flesh felt as alive as his. If he hadn’t known what she was, Blake might have thought the air-conditioning was just set a little low.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s so wrong of me to burden you with my tears. Please, let me go.”

Blake didn’t want to. Holding Elise felt more right than anything he’d done in well, he couldn’t remember howlong. “I need this, too,” Blake said.

Once, he’d have been too guarded to admit to such vulnerability to a woman he didn’t know very well, but now those games seemed like a waste of time. Time he didn’t have.

She moved so he could sit on the narrow bench with her instead of balancing over her. Blake pulled Elise onto his lap, resting her head under his chin, and closed his eyes. In the quiet, pressed close to each other in their mutual need for solace, there was more honesty than Blake had experienced in all his other relationships.
She’s what I’ve been missing all my life,
Blake realized, but not in remorse. It was in deep appreciation that he’d been allowed to meet her before it was too late.

“I was engaged in the fifties.” Elise’s voice was barely audible over the rumblings of the train. “Edmond didn’t know what I was. I’d told him I couldn’t have children, but he said that didn’t matter. I thought he’d accept the rest of me, too, if I could show him I truly loved him. Mencheres urged me to tell Edmond what I was, not to start our marriage with such a great deception between us. So, the night before our wedding, I showed Edmond my true nature.”

She was trembling. Blake smoothed his hands down her back.

“He was so horrified.” It was a pain-filled whisper. “He called me defiled, unclean, a hell-spawn. He wouldn’t listen, no matter what I said. He ran off, but I thought with a little time, his fear would ease, and he would come back. He did come back, the very next morning. I woke up and Edmond was in the room with people I’d never seen before. They all had wooden stakes, one as long as a pole, and…”

Elise’s voice broke. Blake’s arms tightened around her.

“Edmond had them hold me down. I didn’t struggle, because I thought if Edmond saw I wasn’t fighting them, he’d realize there was nothing to fear from me. I kept pleading with Edmond to stop, but…” Elise’s voice changed. Became flat and emotionless. “Edmond shoved a stake through my heart. I stared into his eyes the whole time. He was furious when I didn’t die—he kept stabbing more wood into my chest. I couldn’t think through the pain, and at last I fought back. Edmond’s neck snapped when he hit the wall. The others were injured, but they lived. They ran away, and I left my house to live below the train station in the tunnels. I’ve mostly avoided people ever since, because if I didn’t care about anyone, then no one could hurt me.”