Kiss of the Rose (25 page)

“No one knew what would happen.There have been instances of Vampires turning babies at birth and, indeed, giving birth to Vampires, but they are rare. Despite my mother’s hopes of taking me with her, neither family really wanted a half-breed. They are notoriously unstable and unpredictable. The Vampires would probably have killed me on sight, so I suppose I was lucky.”

“You don’t smell like a Vampire.” The words came out before she realized it.

She sensed rather than saw his smile. “Thank you, I think.”

“You must have spent your whole childhood terrified that you were going to change.”

He swallowed so hard that she felt the tremor run through his jaw.“Childhood was not a particularly pleasant time for me.”

Rosalind gave in to temptation, leaned into him, and rested her forehead on his chin. “When I was born— a female with the mark of Awen— many suggested that I was an abomination and that my father should sacrifice me to the gods.”

His hand brushed over her hair.“We are a fine pair of changelings, aren’t we?”

She raised her face until she could just about see him. “As a Druid I knew I would always have to hide a part of myself. And then I spent my childhood being looked at as an oddity among my own people. But at least my parents claimed me and insisted I was a gift from the gods, so I did not have to fear for my life.”

She used her fingers to trace the stark line of his cheekbone, the harsher texture of his tight beard, and finally the softness of his lower lip. Inside, her emotions spilled and boiled, desperate to get through to him, to acknowledge the loneliness at the center of him, to offer him her own.

“Rosalind,” he whispered fiercely. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me.”

She stilled her fingers. “I’m not. I’d simply like to get hold of a few of your family and bang their heads together for treating you so appallingly. You were only a child, and it was no fault of yours that your mother betrayed your father. What were you supposed to do?”

Christopher almost smiled at her indignant tone. He could sense her tangled thoughts, her fierce desire for him fighting her lingering doubts about his heritage. She had more courage than anyone he had ever met and, incredibly, she was on his side. His throat was tight and he was hanging on to his composure by his fingernails. Wasn’t it ironic that his worst enemy understood him far better than any member of his own family? He’d fought so hard to be accepted by his father’s family, to prove himself worthy of being initiated into the cult of Mithras, only to find himself trapped in a cause he no longer believed in.

Rosalind sighed and he realized that her body was aligned with his from toe to shoulder, the hilt of her sword digging into his thigh and her head fitting neatly into the crook of his neck. He wanted to put his arms around her and keep her safe, hold her against his heart. He wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to breathe…

With all the care he could muster, he gently set her away from him. “We should make our way back to a point in the tunnels we recognize. Did you say you had a place down here where you trained with Rhys?”

“Yes.” She sounded a little dazed and he knew why. The link between them left them both reeling with the need to be close, to be together. Christopher set his teeth. Which was why they had to move on, or he would take her down to the floor and swive her with all the ferocity of a starving man.

He motioned at the entrance. “Come, then. We can proceed as slowly as we like. With your sense of smell and my ability to detect the rogue Vampire, we should be quite safe.”

Rosalind didn’t reply, but at least she followed him without protest, her dagger at the ready. He’d never had a fighting companion before, and he found her presence remarkably comforting.With Rosalind at his side, he felt more optimistic of success than he ever had in his life.

Chapter 17

R
osalind paused as Christopher peered into yet another of the endless caverns that lined the tunnels they traversed. She could only wonder what the original purpose of the catacombs had been. They had seen no sign of Rhys or any of the Vampires. She had no idea how long they had been down in the depths of the earth, but she had a sharp longing to breathe fresh air and see the sky again.

His fingers closed around her upper arm and his mouth brushed her ear. “We are near the chamber with the Vampire coffins. At least the bodies have gone. Can you sense anything?”

She shook her head, and his teeth grazed her skin. “I feel nothing.” Nothing about the Vampires at least, and nothing she was prepared to confess to him at this moment. “And you?”

“No. Let’s move past and hope they don’t see us.”

They crept forward again, but there was no movement in the room stacked with coffins. Either the Vampires had left in pursuit of Rhys or had returned to their rest. Rosalind let out her breath as Christopher quickened his pace and headed toward another place where two tunnels intersected each other. She used her fingers to feel the stones at all four corners, and discovered one of the marks she’d made with her dagger.

“It’s this way.”

“You marked our path?”

“I tried to. It became difficult because we were moving so fast.” She felt his approval wash over her and shrugged. “I’m used to searching for Vampires underground.”

“Of course you are.” He turned away and walked on, his shoulders set. She gazed after him. She understood him better now, both his defense of the Vampires and his struggle to fulfill his mission. But it didn’t change who she was, and what she did. Would he ever come to terms with that?

She caught up with Christopher and inhaled the scent of leather warmed by exertion and his own particular spicy scent. She directed him through three more junctions until they came to a part of the tunnels she recognized.

“This is the passage that leads back to our training room and the chapel.”

“Let’s get out of here, then.” He sounded as grim as she felt. After what seemed like forever, they arrived at the bottom of the spiral staircase.

Rosalind frowned. “There’s no light up there.”

Christopher started up the tight stairwell, and his voice echoed down to her. “Someone has replaced the stone.”

“It’s all right. There is a ring set in the underside to push up on.”

She heard his harsh breathing and a faint curse. “It’s not moving.”

“What do you mean?” Rosalind scrambled up the stairs and wedged herself into the narrow space beside him. She lent her weight to the attempt to push up the stone, but it wasn’t budging. “Someone has put something over the top.”

Christopher slumped down beside her. “Aye.”

They stared at each other in the darkness.Above them they heard the church bell boom four times, indicating that the night was almost over. Rosalind swallowed. She was so close to getting outside. Her fingernails bit into her palms as she fought her fear. She could not go back down there again. She
couldn’t
.

“Are you well, Rosalind?” Christopher asked, the mere sound of his voice doing more to calm her than she could have imagined.

“I want to get out. I
need
to get out.”

He squeezed her hand and lifted it to his mouth, brushed his lips over her bandaged knuckles. “We will get out. I give you my word. I have no liking for being shut up in small spaces either.”

“Or the dark. I am not much fond of it.” She tried to laugh as she said it, but knew she couldn’t fool him.

“I’m not surprised considering what you hunt in it. You must have witnessed many gruesome sights that haunt your dreams.”

“Yes.” She heard nothing but a certain matter-offactness in his tone. Being a slayer himself, he seemed to understand her fears, and would not belittle them. Simply knowing that helped calm her anxiety and made her feel less of a coward. “We have to hope that Rhys is free and will come back and rescue us. Until then we should go back to the training room. There are candles and weapons stored there.”

“Agreed.” Christopher shifted to one side to allow her to descend before him. “Let’s assume that Rhys will come. If he doesn’t, we’ll have to try to get out the other way.”

“Past whatever the rogue Vampire was trying to defend,” Rosalind whispered. “Probably her resting place.”

Christopher kissed her cheek. “If we stumble upon it and the Vampire is there, we’ll deal with her together. But let’s hope for better things.”

He kept hold of her hand and she retraced her steps to the chamber Rhys had prepared for their training. There was nothing to cover the doorway, but at least they would have additional weapons and some light. She felt her way to the back of the room and retrieved a candle from the stash tucked into an alcove in the wall. Her hands shook as she took the tinderbox from her leather pouch. It seemed to take forever to produce a spark strong enough to ignite the candlewick.

Christopher knelt down beside her and she angled the candle toward the iron-bound chest. “There are more weapons in here, but Rhys has the key.”

“I’ll force it open if I have to, but let’s pray we don’t need to be that heavily armed.”

She focused on his face, and saw the lines of strain revealed by the tiny flickering light. She imagined she must look the same.The energy produced from the fight had dissipated, leaving her shaken and cold. She melted some wax onto the corner of the chest and affixed the candle to it.

“I don’t suppose you stored any food down here?”

“We have ale.” She pointed at another alcove. “It’s over there.”

Christopher located the pottery jug and carefully unstoppered the seal. He offered it to Rosalind, and she took a small swallow before handing it back. He drank too, the scent of hops now mingled with the deadening smell of decay and damp.

Rosalind shivered and Christopher put the jug down. “Are you cold, my lady?”

She tried to smile at him. “No colder than you are, I warrant.”

He nodded at the wall. “We should sit together and share our heat, mayhap.”

“You don’t sound very happy about that.”

“And you know why.” He sat with his back to the wall and opened his arms. “But there’s no point in freezing to death.”

She regarded him for a long moment, but he looked more resigned than aroused, and the temptation to share the heat radiating from his body was too much to resist. She crawled over to him and arranged herself on his crossed legs, her back to his chest. He brought his arms around her and sighed.

“It’s all right. You can lean back.”

Rosalind gradually relaxed her spine, until she fitted seamlessly against the hard curves of his chest and leather jerkin. The candlelight flickered as drafts whistled and moaned along the tunnels. Rosalind shivered even harder. She hated inactivity, and had driven her mother near mad as a child with her constant desire to move.

Christopher tightened his arms around her. “Try to relax. I suspect it will be a while before Rhys works out what has happened to us.”

“If he is alive,” Rosalind blurted out.

Christopher’s lips brushed the top of her head. “Of course he is alive. He is an extraordinary fighter, and I have no doubt that he escaped.”

“He is excellent. He taught me.”

“So I understand.” His voice was low and comforting, and she closed her eyes to hear him more clearly. For the first time in a long while, she felt almost safe in the dark.

“May I ask you something?” Christopher murmured.

“Of course.”

“Did you tell Rhys what happened at the stones?”

“Yes.”

“How did he take it?”

“As you might imagine. He was not pleased.”

“I’d like to say that I’m sorry I took you from him, but I’m not.”

“I am not a possession.” She looked back over her shoulder at him.“He doesn’t
own
me any more than you do.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He shifted beneath her and she became aware of the hard length of his cock pressed against her buttocks. “I just want you to know I don’t regret making love with you. But I can understand how Rhys might feel, because if it was the other way round, I would feel the same.”

“Even though you were drugged and lured into the circle and forced to couple with me?”

He picked her up and reversed her position so that she faced him.“Are you still angry I said that? I told you it wasn’t true.”

She couldn’t help touching his cheek. “But you
were
coerced, and you must wonder if what you felt for me had any foundation in reality.”

He raised his eyebrows. After the hours of darkness, it was a relief simply to see his face.“Is that how it seems to you, then? That what we shared was not real, because it was Beltaine?”

“I’m not sure,” Rosalind whispered. “It was my first experience. I have nothing else to compare it to.”

He regarded her for a long moment. “Rosalind, what exactly are you saying?”

She held his gaze. “What if no one comes? What if tonight is the last night of our lives? Wouldn’t you like to know whether there really is something between us other than potion-induced lust?”

She knew she was behaving in a most unladylike way, but then she had always been an original, not content to wait to be asked, and never content to sit and be admired for her womanly virtues.

He grimaced. “Be careful what you ask for, my lady. If I take you, it changes nothing.We are still on opposite sides.”

She scowled at him. “I thought you wanted me.”

He slid his hand into her hair and brought her face so close to his that their noses touched. “God’s teeth, you know I want you.” He used his other hand to press her fully against his groin and groaned. “I’m already hard and ready for you.”

His mouth came down on hers and she welcomed him inside, met his tongue with her own, and enjoyed the duel. He kissed her until she shared every breath with him, and could no longer tear her mouth away from his. His hips rolled against hers, driving heat and desire to her quim, making her wet and needy.

He wrenched his mouth away and held her by the shoulders. “I want you, Rosalind. Don’t ever doubt that, but if I have you again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk away from you.”