His Ruthless Bite | Historical Paranormal Romance: Vampires (Scandals With Bite Book 4) (10 page)

The Lords and Ladies in London preferred Saint George’s Church to plight their troth. Lenore had often spied many joyous wedding parties exiting the church, tossing bouquets of flowers and riding off in elegant phaetons. Rochester Cathedral dwarfed Saint George’s and appeared to be ever so much more fine, even if it was missing half the roof.

His talk of wanting to please her struck a chord of unfathomed longing within her. “Yes, I would like that very much.”

“Good.” He smiled with genuine pleasure. “A church wedding should restore some propriety to our hasty marriage. Perhaps we may even have the banns read, though I still must procure a special license for us to be permitted to wed in the evening.”

“I appreciate your consideration. A morning wedding would be most uncomfortable,” she replied with a smile, trying to hold back the depth of incomprehensible emotion he’d invoked.

Lord Darkwood covered his mouth to muffle his laughter. “I do not believe I’ve ever heard you jest before. I hope to hear you do it more.”

They laughed together until suddenly he fell silent, staring at her as if he’d never seen her before.
Those sin black eyes held hers as he slowly lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers, soft as a whisper. Heat spiraled in her belly even as her thighs seemed to melt to liquid. Lenore reached for him, whether to hold on or to pull away, she did not know, for he withdrew before she could deduce her own intentions.

“I apologize,” Gavin said softly, his voice cracking, as if he had difficulty speaking. “I’m afraid I was too swept up in our courtship. I didn’t frighten you, did I?”

“No,” she whispered, praying he couldn’t see her legs wobbling beneath her skirts. His kiss hadn’t scared her, but it had done
something
to her.

For a moment he looked like he wanted to press her further, but then he nodded. “Well, shall we proceed to the Gathering?”

The Gathering, where she would be presented to all of the vampires of Rochester as the bride to be of their Lord. Now
that
filled her with undeniable terror.

Justus led his band of rogues through the trees by the river in a circuitous route, hoping they didn’t come near another Rochester vampire. He’d seen several during tonight’s roaming, all headed to the ruins of the castle. There was to be a Gathering, it seemed. At first he’d been tempted to send his comrades away and see if he could spy upon it, but for one thing he wasn’t quite ready to risk being sensed by Gavin or any of his people. For another, from the snatches of conversation he’d heard from the last vampires they’d passed, the Gathering was only so Gavin could present the new youngling to the others.

He frowned. Why in the blazes hadn’t Rochester done that when the chit had first arrived? He knew that the Lord Vampire could be forgetful about some of his responsibilities, but for one thing, he hardly ever took in new vampires. For another, he seemed to take unseemly interest in this one, heaven only knew why. After several nights of watching the youngling, Justus had deduced nothing interesting about her, aside from the fact that she appeared to be laughably ignorant on how to use her new abilities… like she’d only been Changed yesterday. How the usually abrasive Elena remained so patient with that pathetic creature, Justus would never know.

Perhaps Gavin had delayed her presentation to educate her more so she wouldn’t embarrass him with her ignorance. But that only brought back his original question. Why take in such a useless vampire in the first place? Did he owe the Lord of London a favor? One would think, with Gavin’s aiding him in battle last November, that Villar would owe Gavin.

Justus shook his head. Perhaps his old friend’s mind was slipping. That happened to the old ones from time to time. He shook off a reflexive pang of sympathy. No, if Rochester was declining, it would be all the easier to cast him down.

He turned to the others. “Presentations usually last at least three hours, though they may be even longer if Rochester decides to hold court.”

“What exactly happens at a presentation?” Charlie asked, eyes shining with curiosity beneath his shaggy blond bangs.

He’d forgotten that Charlie was a bastard of sorts, a vampire made by a rogue. He’d never had a city to call home, or a vampire to call lord. Justus was determined to change that.

Patiently, he explained. “The new vampire is introduced to the others and has a chance to become acquainted and begin to forge their place in the hierarchy. That waif we saw will be at the bottom rank for a very long time.” He shrugged and resumed walking. “Either way, let us feed quickly while we have the land to ourselves.”

As they roamed through the territory openly, Justus smiled as he observed their relaxed shoulders and the absence of watchful tension in their features. Some night soon they would be able to hunt freely like this all the time.

Once they returned to their lair beneath the crypt of the old cathedral, better fed than they’d been in weeks, Justus’s cheer vanished like last month’s snow melt.

Other vampires had been here. Their faint scent lingered in the air. One he couldn’t identify, but the other had clearly been Rochester. The rogues halted behind him, growling and sniffing the air.

“Justus?” Will whispered tentatively. He was the youngest, only twenty years Changed, and had a frail, almost elfish form.

Justus held up a hand for silence. “Remain here. I will investigate. If I call out, I want you all to scatter and find somewhere safe to hide.”

“But what if you’re attacked?” Rolfe asked, glancing around for enemies lurking in the shadows. Built like a bull, he was capable of a good charge.

Justus shook his head, trying to focus on the trail of the scent. He brushed his red hair from his eyes. “If it is who I think it is, your assistance will do more harm than good. Now do as I say and be quiet.”

It didn’t seem as if Rochester had been inside this part of the cathedral directly. His essence was too faint. Still, Justus remained cautious as he slowly climbed through the carefully concealed trap door and into the crypt itself.

The scent was also faint here, carried lightly on a draft down the staircase. Holding his breath, Justus made his way up the steps to the main floor. Here the smell of Gavin and the other vampire was the strongest. He followed it in a clearly apparent line through the nave, the clerestory, and across the transepts. After following the trail, Justus confirmed that his enemy had not ventured into the crypt, much less below it... which was a godsend, since if he’d gone that far, he certainly would have smelled Justus’s band. And he’d bet his soul that Rochester had avoided the cloisters.

But what had he been doing in the cathedral in the first place? Had someone seen Justus or one of his people near it? Was he searching for their lair? Or had he only been here to reminisce on his past? After all, Gavin had grown up here, had a history and dark past… which was why he typically avoided the place.

Justus shook his head. The reason for Gavin’s visit didn’t matter. Justus couldn’t risk his people.

Returning to the hidden chamber, he breathed a sigh of satisfaction that his fellow rogues had obeyed him. Hidden in the shadows, they stood still near the entrance to the hidden tunnel, waiting for his orders.

“We have to move,” he told them. “Tonight.”

***

Lenore’s next run with Gavin was not as thrilling as the first. Every muscle of her body quaked with trepidation at the prospect of being displayed before the Rochester vampires like a horse at auction. If it weren’t for Gavin’s grip on her hand, she would have lagged behind. As it was, she had to will every ounce of her concentration to maintain her speed and not trip, or careen into anything.

Despite her efforts, by the time they halted in front of the ruins of an ancient castle, Lenore was covered in scratches from various tree branches and brambles.

Gavin surveyed her with a frown. “You are quite disheveled. We shall definitely have to practice your running.” He punctured his index finger with a fang and gently trailed the bleeding wound along the scratches on her cheeks, instantly healing them. He did the same with her arms.

Every place his fingers grazed her skin tingled with warmth, whether from his healing or his mere touch, she could not say. The scent of his blood awoke a gnawing hunger that she struggled to suppress. Gavin then helped her straighten her gown and adjusted her cloak before moving on to her hair. Between either the first run or the second, her pins had flown from her sensible bun and now her hair tumbled down her back and about her shoulders in shameful disarray.

As his fingers combed through her tresses, plucking out leaves and smoothing the strands, frissons of sensation cascaded through her body, similar to the feeling he evoked when he kissed her, yet with a different sort of intensity.

He stepped back and surveyed her with a smile. “There. You look like quite the picture… except for one thing.”

“I know,” she agreed sullenly. “My hair is down. I lost all my pins.”

He shook his head. “Your hair is lovely. Many vampires wear their hair thus. Look, my own hair is free.” He ran a hand through his own shoulder length locks, the curls the color of decadent chocolate. “The problem is that you look like a prisoner being led to the gallows, rather than a worthy vampire ready to meet her new kin and wed the lord of this land. Straighten your shoulders and look me in the eye.” After she did as bade, he tilted her chin up with his thumb and nodded. “Yes, like that. If you show any fear, I will be sorely disappointed.”

His foreboding tone made her belly quake. Walking at Rochester’s side, Lenore held her spine rigid and tried to carry herself more like Elena. What she would give to have more of her tutor’s courage.

Gavin guided her though a hidden door that opened to a tunnel that was dark even with her preternatural vision. The scent and essence of other vampires made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

I should not be afraid
, she scolded herself.
I am one of them
.

But
was
she? All other vampires she’d met were so much stronger than her. Even the other younglings, who’d been Changed by older, stronger vampires than Blanche.

It didn’t matter. Lenore closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She would not disappoint Gavin or embarrass Elena. She’d had her fill of embarrassment.

The tunnel gave way to a spiral staircase so narrow that she had to walk behind Gavin. Though he had a slender frame, she couldn’t help but notice that his shoulders were very broad. And from their dance last night, she knew it wasn’t padding.

Light glowed from below as soft mutters and whispers reached her ears. All fell silent when Gavin emerged into a large concave chamber deep in the castle bowels. Lenore took his proffered arm and nearly froze at the sight of so many eyes upon her.

Though Gavin had only a fraction the amount of vampires as there were in London, being the subject of such scrutiny made her shiver. But when Lenore’s eyes met Elena’s reassuring gaze, some of her tension eased.

Gavin surveyed them all. “Vampires of Rochester, with the greatest of apologies for the delay, I would like to present the newest member of our humble borough.” He placed his hand on the small of Lenore’s back and gently guided her forward. “This is Miss Lenore Graves, formerly from London. She has come to Rochester to be my wife for the next fifty years.”

The vampires’ eyes roved over her with surprise and disbelief. A few even darted glances at Elena, as if they couldn’t believe that she was no longer fulfilling the role. Lenore could hardly blame them. She knew she didn’t look the part of a baroness, much less a bride of a Lord Vampire.

One female vampire elbowed her neighbor before saying loudly, “Greetings and welcome, Lenore.”

“Greetings and welcome, Lenore,” the others echoed, looking slightly shamefaced for the delay.

“Greetings in return and thank you,” Lenore curtsied, only half paying attention. Gavin’s words still swirled in her mind.

Fifty years
. Though Lenore knew that five decades was a trifle to most of the old ones, it was still a long time for her. If she’d still been mortal, she’d be an old woman by then! Could she and Rochester truly remain congenial for so long? She knew that many married couples remained happy together until the day they died, but they’d loved each other and wanted to marry. This was a sham, a business arrangement. Where was the chance of happiness there?

And yet the memory of the soft brush of his lips on hers teased her memory, along with his smile and gentle touch.

Rochester’s voice broke through her frantic musings. “Lenore is currently residing with Elena, but she will take up residence in my home in about two months. I expect you all to treat her with as much respect and courtesy as you do with me and other high ranking vampires here.” His black eyes surveyed them with a sudden harsh glare. “I will not have a repeat of last time.”

Last time?
Lenore frowned. Last time for what? She made note to ask Elena.

“And now for other business,” Rochester continued. “Myrtle, come forward, please.”

A blonde female vampire sharply inhaled and darted nervous glances at the others before lifting her skirts and approaching her lord.