Kiss of the Rose (16 page)

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Authors: Kate Pearce

BOOK: Kiss of the Rose
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Something fierce shifted and deepened in Christopher’s stark blue eyes and Rosalind shoved at Rhys’s chest. “That is a vicious thing to say.”

“No, my lady. It’s all right. It pains me greatly to say so, but there is some doubt— that is, my branch of the Ellis family may have been infected with Vampire blood.” Christopher held up his hand. “I do not know if it is true. By all that’s Holy, the Vampire did sound familiar.” He hesitated and then continued.“She spoke to me in the language of my family in Aragon.”

Rosalind tried to hide the instinctive shiver of revulsion his words conjured. Was it possible that she was falling in love with a Vampire? She struggled to speak normally. “Then you think she is indeed related to you somehow?”

He shrugged, his gaze evasive.“I fear it may be so.The fact that she could enter my thoughts suggests she is. It is the custom of Vampires who have a familial link.”

Rosalind nodded and tried to concentrate on the practical aspects of Christopher’s revelation rather than her confused emotions. “That is why we sometimes lose our prey or find ourselves facing twenty Vampires when we started off chasing only one.”

Rhys stepped back, his expression thoughtful.“Could you talk back to her?”

“In my mind? I do not know. When she asked me a question, I answered her aloud.”

“Why do you ask, Rhys?” Rosalind looked at him even as he continued to stare speculatively at Christopher.

“Because if the Vampire can communicate with him, she may also be able to read his mind.”

Christopher groaned. “Then she will know whatever plans we make against her!”

“Yes,” Rhys answered. “But we could also use that in our favor, by giving her the wrong information.”

“So you imagine I could conceal my
true
thoughts from her yet communicate false ones! Alas, I do not think you understand what power she has over me.” An expression of revulsion flooded Christopher’s face. “You have no idea how it felt to have that creature in my head.”

“Actually, we do.” Rosalind went toward him and took his hand again. At least, she could help him with this. To his credit, he seemed as horrified at the thought of becoming a Vampire as she would be. “We’re taught from an early age how to protect our minds from Vampire spells, but even a good hunter can be deceived. I know it must have been more than unpleasant to have that monster inside your head.”

His smile was forced. “I’m sorry for being such a coward.”

“We can show you how to shield your thoughts from the Vampire, and we don’t think that you are a coward, do we, Rhys?” She glared at Rhys, who merely looked skeptical. “No one would enjoy being in the power of that rogue Vampire.”

“But I’ll have to endure it if we are to understand the creature better.” Christopher paused. “I’ll ask Elias if a Vampire can form a bond with a human.”

“We’ll both speak to Elias.” Rosalind paused as another thought struck her. “I wonder if the Vampire would speak to
me
if I let down my shields and allowed her in.”

“No.”

Both men spoke at the same time and Rosalind felt her cheeks heat up. She raised her chin. “I don’t believe either of you has the authority to tell me what I can or cannot do.”

Christopher turned until he stood shoulder to shoulder with Rhys. “At least we are in agreement about something. Lady Rosalind has to be protected.”

“Aye, if she is the key to the prophecy, she cannot be allowed to do anything rash.”

Rosalind picked up her skirts and stomped back toward her horse. Not allowed to do
anything rash
… She clamped her teeth together so firmly that her jaw ached. Perhaps she should simply seek out Elias on her own and leave the two puffed-up peacocks to make their own way back to the palace.

“Lady Rosalind?” Rhys ran up behind her.

She refused to acknowledge him and returned her attention to her horse. Not for the first time, she cursed her long skirts, and the tight bodice of her riding gown that made it impossible for her to get on a horse without help.

Rhys tossed her into the saddle as if she were a sack of flour. He kept his hands firmly over hers, and leaned close. “Don’t forget our original purpose for riding this way this morning. I must show you to the site of our Beltaine celebration tomorrow night.”

“I had forgotten. But you shall be escorting me, so it’s all right.”

“Yes, if I am able. But I would prefer you know the way in case I am delayed.”

Rosalind sighed. “I suppose we must let Sir Christopher talk to Elias alone.”

Satisfaction flashed across his face. “Indeed, my lady. If you trust Sir Christopher as well as you say you do.”

Rosalind met his gaze. “I do. Now stop this.”

“Stop what?”

“This… display of possessiveness.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Rhys turned away from her toward Christopher, who had appeared by his side. “My lady regrets to inform you that she cannot come with you to find Elias Warner.”

“Thank you, Rhys. I am quite capable of speaking for myself.” Rosalind clicked at her horse and moved forward to block Rhys and smile down at Christopher.

“You’ll not come with me?” Now Christopher looked as insulted as Rhys.

“Let us meet in the queen’s apartments after we’ve broken our fast to discuss what you have found out.”

Christopher’s brows drew together and he cast a wary glance at Rhys. Rosalind extended her hand, and Christopher brought it to his lips. “I shall count the hours, my lady.”

To her relief, he released her gloved hand and stepped back with a bow. She imagined he might actually be relieved not to have to discuss his experience with the Vampire in front of her and Rhys. And Elias might be more forthcoming with Christopher, although he was hardly known for his frankness.

She watched Christopher mount his horse, his movements as graceful and assured as Rhys’s. He nodded a farewell and trotted back toward the trees, the feather in his hat tangling in the breeze with the curling strands of his black hair.

“He rides well,” Rosalind said musingly.

“He is a preening ass.”

Rosalind glared at him. “Why must you speak of him so?”

“There’s no need to poker up, my lady. He’s quite capable of defending himself.”

“Not when he’s riding away from us.”

His smile was fleeting.“And do you defend
my
honor when he insults me?”

“Of course I do.”

“So he does insult me.”

Rosalind fought a desire to scream. “Why are you so obsessed with each other? Are all males in rut the same?”

“I should imagine so.” He sighed and his expression relaxed to reveal the old Rhys, the man she’d trusted and laughed and trained with. “I’m sorry, Rosalind. I promised not to interfere, didn’t I?”

“You did.” It made her uncomfortable to see Rhys getting angry on her behalf. She didn’t deserve his trust and she sensed he was beginning to realize it too. In some ways he acted far more like her brother than her lover and she wasn’t at all sure which she liked less. “Now, show me where this sacred site is so that I can find my way there tomorrow night after the court finishes celebrating.”

Rhys pointed at another cluster of oak trees in the near distance. “It’s not far. You could even walk there if you had to, although it would take a while.”

Rosalind peered into the mist and urged her horse into a trot. She was sure they’d ridden this way before, but she hadn’t sensed anything different about this particular group of trees. As they approached the thick circle, she noticed a change in the air, the indefinable hum of ancient magic calling to her from the very earth.

When she dismounted, she could hear the sound of rushing water above the slight, cutting wind and headed toward it. The ground started to slope downward, and she made her way more carefully. She was surprised to find herself in a substantial hidden valley. On the opposite side of the slope, a waterfall picked its way down the hill, glinted off gray and blue stone, foamed briefly, and then disappeared into the ground.

Rhys caught up with her, and pointed downward through the tangle of bushes. “Druids have worshipped in this spot for thousands of years. There was once a complete stone circle here, but much of it was taken away and used to build the palace and the chapels.” Tangled ivy and vegetation marred the perfection of the remaining standing stones. They surged upward in two concentric circles, like jagged, uneven teeth.

Rosalind stood still and simply breathed in the atmosphere. She sensed the echoes of celebration, of blood spilled, of rebirth. Beltaine was the festival of fertility and new life, a time of hope and renewal, in contrast to the darker celebrations of Yule and Samhain. She had always enjoyed it the most.

“Do you think you will be able to find this place again?” Rhys asked.

“I think so. How many worshippers are expected?”

Rhys took her hand and helped her back up the steep slope of the valley.“I’m not sure how many of us are left in this area, but whosoever can will be here tomorrow night.”

“It is a holy place.”

He squeezed her fingers. “You feel it too? The excitement waiting to erupt when the fires are lit and the priests begin their ceremonies. Aye, it will be glorious.”

Rosalind glanced sideways at Rhys. He sounded far more animated than usual. Despite all his protestations of neutrality, was he still hoping she’d jump through the Beltaine fire with him, and thus proclaim themselves a couple? The mood between them was so strained she couldn’t think of a way to ask him.

She fixed her gaze on the top of the slope and continued to slog up the hill, her breathing now ragged. There was no point in asking for trouble. He’d said he would wait… But was it fair to expect Rhys to wait until the Vampire was dead and her complicated feelings for Christopher were resolved?

Rosalind sighed. He’d always been a patient man. She tried to cheer herself with the thought of the night to come, the freedom to be herself, to worship the ancient gods with her own kind.

Her faint smile died. She wondered what Christopher thought of such pagan celebrations. Had he ever participated in a massacre of her people during one of their ceremonies, as his Roman forebears had done? Did he relish the thought of killing Druids during their sacred rites?

Rosalind found herself shivering. She’d heard horror stories about Druid slayers all her life, but she couldn’t picture Christopher at the center of such violence. Still, she must take care not to reveal this location to him.

And hope that tomorrow night he would be too busy chasing the female Vampire to worry about her and her kind for a few hours.

Chapter 12

“A
h, there you are, Master Warner,” Christopher said as he spied Elias in one of the bustling courtyards adjoining the royal palace. “I’ve been looking for you all day.”

“I rarely rise before noon, and since then I’ve been busy arranging some musical entertainment for the queen and her May Day guests.” Elias held up a lute, his golden eyes guileless. “You play and sing, do you not?”

“A little.” Christopher glanced at the ornate instrument, and then at the crowd of courtiers who scurried back and forth between the wings of the palace like busy ants. Despite the sun streaming down on them, the enclosed stone courtyard was full of shadows. “But first, there is something I wanted to ask you.”

Elias gave a long-suffering sigh and put down the lute he was holding. “Of course. How may I be of service to you?”

Christopher walked him over to a quieter corner and checked to see that they were alone. “The one we seek spoke to me last night.”

“Spoke to you?”

“In my mind.”

Elias’s eyebrows rose and he studied Christopher intently. “But that’s impossible.”

“Why? Vampires often use magic to compel humans to give them blood.”

“Did she feed from you?”

“No.”

“Then it’s not the same at all, is it?” Elias looked thoughtful. “It seems the Council was right to ask your uncle to send for you, after all.”

“I don’t understand.”

“If you can hear the rogue Vampire’s thoughts, you must be involved in the prophecy.”

“In what way?”

“If you are connected to the rogue Vampire, you can help Rosalind Llewellyn track the Vampire down and defeat her before she succeeds in killing the king.”

“I’m beginning to understand that part of it, but why might I have this connection?”

“The only explanation I can imagine is that she is somehow related to your family.” Elias shrugged. “Did she sound familiar to you?”

“She sounded… Spanish.”

“Ah, from your mother’s side. That makes sense, although it scarcely narrows our search. At least a dozen of the queen’s ladies and fifty of her servants come from Aragon.”

Christopher sighed. “I suppose I can ask my uncle if I have any distant kin from Aragon serving at court, though he is reluctant to speak of my mother’s family.” And, in truth, he had always been reluctant to ask his uncle about them as well— or anything that might complicate his already precarious position within the Ellis family. At least with Elias he had no reason to pretend that everything was well between him and his uncle. As the Vampire had reminded him, Elias had lived long enough to know all the pitiful secrets of the Ellises.“But this is what I wished to ask you: If she can speak to me in my mind, can I do the same to her?”

“I have no idea. I’ve never heard of a Vampire communicating with a ‘human’ before.”

Christopher picked up the lute and absentmindedly tried to tune it. “Then I’ll have to try it and see what happens.”

Elias laughed. “I wish you luck.”

Christopher met his amused gaze head-on. “I shall need it.”

“Then perhaps, if we are done, you could aid me in bringing these musical instruments to the queen’s apartments?”

“Of course.” Christopher accompanied Elias back to the pile of instruments the servants were unloading from a cart and picked up an exquisite psaltery and a harp to go with the lute he already carried. He brought his treasures carefully into the palace and through to the queen’s private chambers.

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