Darkness In The Flames (67 page)

“Did you question her?” Marcus asked gently.

“I did. They were disappearing, healing as I looked at them. As if she was hiding them from me. But she answered, all the same. She told me she hadn’t moved quickly enough and her enemies had attempted to destroy her with holy water.”

Sidney was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “She answered you? That sounds unusual in itself.”

“It was.” Rowan straightened in his chair. “You must know that she is always in control of my dreams.”

Sidney nodded. “Everybody’s dreams, apparently.”

“Well, this time, she wasn’t. I could talk to her, ask her questions, withhold—things—until a time of
my
choosing, not hers.” Rowan stopped. There were some matters he could not discuss with Marcus, let alone a stranger—albeit a friendly one like Sir Sidney.

“Suffice it to say that I was surprised by last night’s visions.” Rowan continued on.

“There is more, Rowan. Tell it all, my friend. Do not hold back—it could be important.” Brown eyes glowed at him, an unmistakable message of encouragement and support. Dear Marcus. He didn’t know what he was asking.

But he was right. It all had to come out. Rowan took a breath. “At the end, I fed from Thérèse as usual. This produces a feeling I can only describe as euphoric. Coupled with the sex it is—well, beyond description. But
this
time—there was only
pain
.”

Sidney leaned forward. “Pain? You mean she hurt you again?”

“No, no.” Rowan shook his head. “The pain was
hers
. As I drank her blood, I drank something else too. Something I believe she’s kept buried for years. A screaming agony that is beyond my abilities to describe. As if one’s soul is being tortured for eternity…truly the most terrible of sensations. If she’s suffering like that every minute of every day of her immortal life…”

Rowan knew the tears were standing in his eyes as he risked a glance at the other two men. Would they understand? Had he managed to convey the utter and complete devastation he’d felt within Thérèse?

Two somber faces gazed back at him.

Sidney broke the silence. “Lad, there’s one thing you omitted to tell me. You’re in love with her.”

*~*~*~*

Sounds from outside distracted all three men and the door opened to admit two newcomers.

“Adrian.” Sidney’s voice rang with pleasure. “Welcome home, my son. Is Katherine well? And here’s Nick too. How’s Verity?”

He watched his son cross the room and place an affectionate hand on his shoulder. “All is well, Father. We had a pleasant voyage, two wonderful nights offshore and a peaceful rest in between.” Black eyes lifted to Marcus and Rowan. “I hear we have guests.”

Sidney smiled as his cautious son took stock of the men, his grin turning into a chuckle as Nick moved to stand protectively beside Adrian. While not exactly overflowing with welcome, Sidney was pleased to see they both conducted themselves with appropriate courtesy.

Marcus stood, followed immediately by Rowan and introductions were made.

Within seconds the atmosphere in the room relaxed, as Nick and Adrian recognized a fellow in Rowan. Black eyes met black eyes, accepted and moved on.

Marcus was another matter and it took some time to make his situation known. Adrian’s response was much as his father’s had been. Utter astonishment that Thérèse could have preyed upon Marcus yet left him almost unscathed.

Nick whistled through his teeth. “Not that I’m unsympathetic to your plight, Sir Marcus, but in some ways your ailment saved you.” He blinked. “Of course, it will kill you, I suppose, but then again…” He stumbled and looked embarrassed. “I don’t think I put that very well, did I?”

Marcus chuckled. “No matter, Nick. Actually we’ve met once before I believe…at Newmarket?” He mentioned times and places that obviously refreshed Nick’s memory and soon all the men were seated, exchanging bits and pieces of conversation.

“Where are the ladies?” Sidney raised an eyebrow.

“Refreshing themselves, I suppose.” Adrian looked quizzical. “Which probably means changing their dresses, bathing, doing their hair again—that sort of stuff.”

“I look forward to meeting them.” Marcus stood and crossed to the fireplace, warming his hands at the cheerful blaze. “And although I confess to enjoying this gathering, there are matters we must discuss.”

Rowan glanced at him. “Are you all right, Marcus?”

Sidney followed Rowan’s gaze. “Yes, I second that question. Marcus, you must tell us if there is anything we can do—anything you need—”

Marcus shook his head. “I am well. Just chilled a little. Probably more by the thought of what lies ahead of us than the temperature of the room.” He lifted his head and gazed at the sword. “I do not have Rowan’s ability to draw heat from this thing, unfortunately.”

A silence fell at his words, broken immediately thereafter by questions from Adrian and Nick. It took close on an hour to settle matters and offer explanations. Even then, Sidney felt they’d only touched the surface of what lay between them all.

Rowan had never answered Sidney’s question, but under cover of the general conversation, Sidney had taken a long look at the man. Other than the unusual black eyes, Rowan was a handsome young devil. Sandy hair fell negligently around his sculptured features, his body was firm and strong—and he looked exactly like what he was—a well set-up member of the aristocracy.

But Sidney could not forget the look on his face when Rowan had told of his most recent encounter with Thérèse. Was it possible this young man had given Thérèse more than his blood? That he had done the unthinkable and fallen in love with her, savagely erotic and evil behavior notwithstanding?

Sidney shrugged to himself. Stranger things were possible. Spiders continued to mate even though the female often decapitated the male after achieving her goals. Nature seemed to possess no boundaries when it came to matters of attraction and continuation of the species.

Who was he to say Rowan could not love a monster?

The man himself was staring open-mouthed at Nick. “You mean Verity felt it too?”

Nick nodded. “She felt something, that’s for sure. Quite distinctly. Although she seemed to receive impressions from it, not exactly visions but…” He ran a hand through his hair. “This is all so confusing. I’d say it was a nightmare if I wasn’t living it myself.”

“Hear, hear.” Adrian lifted a glass in a mock toast. “To our group nightmare. May we all wake from it in one piece. And at
peace
.” He sipped a little of the wine then placed the glass carefully down on the tray.

It was quiet as each man remained busy with his thoughts.

Sidney took stock of the situation, although uppermost in his mind was a sense of family—of community.

With the addition of Marcus and Rowan to their numbers, they were now a formidable little force. But they still had no way of knowing how to end their torture. How to sever the hold Thérèse exerted on those she’d preyed upon. Or if they’d survive should they defeat her for once and for all.

Sidney’s heart ached for his strange family. He wanted nothing more than to protect them, to help them face what lay ahead with all the weapons he could provide. If they failed—God help them all.

His gaze roamed the room, coming to rest on the one person who returned it. Marcus Camberley. It seemed that he too was aware of the importance of this little group of lost souls. Touched by darkness but not devoured by it as the others had been, both Sidney and Marcus had a different perspective, removed a little from the immediacy of the threat.

Marcus’ lips curved slightly and he rose to approach Sidney. “You said you’d like to take a drop of my blood. Perhaps now would be a good time? You and I cannot be part of where this conversation is headed, I’m thinking. Our participation will not be missed.” He extended a hand and helped Sidney rise.

“Thank you. I would indeed be curious to see how your blood differs. Whether it’ll tell us why you left a bad taste in Thérèse’ mouth, I have no idea. But it can’t hurt to look.”

Marcus chuckled. “That depends on your perspective. It’ll probably hurt
me
a lot more than it’ll hurt
you
.”

Sidney chuckled back. “No leeches. Word of honor.”

“Thank
God
for that.” Marcus’ comment was heartfelt as he followed Sidney from the room.

True to his word, Sidney’s ministrations left only the tiniest pinprick on Marcus’ finger, a wound he completely forgot about within a few minutes of quitting the large chamber Sidney had set up for his laboratory.

Weary to the bone, Marcus made for his own room. He would meet the women shortly, but for now he wanted nothing more than to lay his aching body down and rest. The journey had been a hard one, their subsequent arrival and revelations exhausting and despite a night’s rest, Marcus still struggled with a lack of energy.

He knew he’d revive, but it was getting to be a longer process all the time.

He’d barely closed his door behind him when it opened once more on a tap to admit Rowan.

“Marcus, you’re worn out, aren’t you? Sidney said you might need something…’tis my fault.” Worriedly, Rowan crossed the room and took Marcus’ face in his hands, staring intently at him. “I forced the pace of our journey too hard.”

“I’m fine. Don’t fuss.” Marcus smiled. “Yes, I tire more easily these days. But I shall recover. Already I feel stronger than yesterday.”

“There’s still a full decanter of brandy in my room. I certainly won’t be drinking any of it. Come—you could call for your own, which I notice you’ve almost finished—or you could have some of mine before you sleep…”

Rowan opened the door between their rooms and Marcus found himself following his friend into a similar suite. St. Chesswell’s hospitality included spacious rooms and fires burning in the old stone fireplaces—most likely a necessity if the nights grew cold and damp.

“I doubt that donating blood to Sidney’s research did you any good either…” Glass clinked as Rowan poured a healthy draught of brandy into a snifter and passed it to Marcus.

“A mere pinprick and he was done.” Marcus sipped thoughtfully. “He’s a fascinating and knowledgeable man, Rowan. Dedicated too.”

“I can understand why. ‘Tis his adopted son who is afflicted with this darkness, Marcus. And also his daughter-in-law. Sidney’s a man who values his family. A good man, I think, don’t you?”

Marcus nodded. “Yes. We’ve come to the right place. If there are any answers to be had about this whole Thérèse situation, this is where they will be discovered.”

Rowan sat on the edge of the bed and motioned Marcus to the space beside him. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? The variety of experiences we’ve all had. The similarities between our visions of Thérèse—and also the differences.”

Marcus nodded. “Rowan, you do understand that Sidney and this little coterie of ours has but one goal. To
destroy
Thérèse.”

Rowan sighed. “I know. Believe me I know.” He stared into the flames. “And they’re right. I also know that too. But…”

“Yes.
But
.” Marcus put his glass down and rested a hand on Rowan’s shoulder. “But if any kind of success is achieved, you will pay a huge price. More than anybody else.”

Rowan lifted his hand and covered Marcus’, gripping his fingers tightly for a second. “You understand.”

“I do. If there was anything I could do to change things, I would.” His throat closed a little at the thought of the pain Rowan would suffer at losing the one woman he loved.

Rowan’s shoulder moved beneath his palm as the man shrugged a little. “I may not survive the experience myself, Marcus. Your concerns may be moot.”

“I hope to God that is not so.”

Black eyes turned to Marcus, filled with a variety of emotions. “You are a good man, Marcus. I’m glad we met. I’m glad we’ve…shared what we’ve shared.” He frowned a little. “And you are weary. Lie down. Let me tend to you for a while and take my mind off what might come to pass…”

Marcus found himself pushed back on the bed and efficiently stripped of his clothes. Rowan’s touch was comforting, cool and gentle as he rolled Marcus onto his stomach. “You are very tense, my friend.”

Marcus snorted. “Are you surprised? This isn’t exactly a stroll in St. James’s Park, you know.”

Rowan chuckled as he slipped from his own clothing. “It’s not, is it? Life can be very strange at times.”

The bed dipped as Rowan knelt beside Marcus, then straddled him, knees either side of his hips. “Just relax for a while, hmm?”

With a soft movement, Rowan began to stroke Marcus’ back and shoulders, a rhythmic massage that was soothing and did much to ease the tension of the last few days.

Slowly, Marcus let the worries seep away, enjoying the feel of Rowan’s hands caressing his spine, finding the hard knots of muscles in his back and working them loose once more.

“You are very good at this…” Marcus huffed the words into the pillow beneath his head.

“My animals think so. To be honest, I’ve never done this to a person before. But the principle is the same, I believe. Encourage the stiff muscles to unwind, replace the cold taut areas with loose warm ones…”

“You must have happy spaniels.”

“They grin a lot, yes.”

Marcus laughed. Incredible though it seemed, he felt comfortable—no longer tense or worried about the future. What ever happened would happen. Right at this moment, he felt—good.

And as the delightful massage continued, he began to feel other things as well. Rowan’s hands strayed farther down his back, occasionally kneading the swells of his buttocks. His touch turned sensual at last, arousing now instead of calming.

Marcus hungered for more. His cock was stiffening uncomfortably beneath him, digging into the quilt. He parted his thighs a fraction, pressing outward against Rowan’s legs.

A low chuckle greeted his move. “I understand your message, dear friend.”

Marcus felt Rowan’s cock slip along his body, a silky iron rod caressing him. Sure fingers delved between his thighs and found his balls, touching them delicately but firmly enough to drive his excitement higher.