DeliveredIntoHisHands (4 page)

“Just so,” the baron said. “That is
certainly your right and when you do, we will—”

“I will deal with them personally,” Garrick
stated.

The baron stiffened but inclined his head
just a fraction. “Understandable,” he agreed.

“I wish to thank you for your hospitality.
Had your daughter not found me, I would not have survived.”

“Antonia is a sympathetic girl,” the baron
acknowledged. “She is forever bringing home birds with broken wings, strays of
all kinds.” He seemed to realize his words might be offensive and held up a
hand. “Not that you are considered such, milord.”

“I am grateful she has a good heart,”
Garrick said. “And she is very lovely.”

The baron cleared his throat. “Well, not to
beat around the bush, you need be told you are her Chosen. Many years
ago—before Antonia was born—the goddess Sibylline cast a prophecy—”

“I know of it, Your Grace,” Garrick
interrupted. “If you are concerned whether or not I will accept her, I will. It
would be my honor to take her to wife.”

“It is not my concerns that are the problem
but rather Antonia’s,” her father stated.

“What concerns does she have?”

“We are human,” the baron said. “And you
are not.”

“And when your daughter Joins with me, she
will be both human and Vampire,” Garrick said.

“I imagine that is what frightens her,” the
baron replied.

“It should not. When I Mark her, she will
not feel it. The advantages of bearing the Warwyck Mark are many. She will
never know disease or death.”

“Unless someone targets her as they did
you.”

Garrick stiffened. “I will protect your
daughter. I would give my life for her. That is the way of the Vampire.”

“I understand, milord, but still she fears
the Changing. Surely you can understand how unsettling it is for her to know
she will be forced to drink blood in order to live.”

“I would like it that the only blood she
will consume is mine,” Garrick told him. “And then only if she desires it.
There is no law that says she must drink from me but, aye, she will need
Sustenance to thrive. It need not be mine, nor any human or Vampire. It could
be animal if that is what she wishes. We breed animals for that purpose.”

“But to kill—”

“The animals are not slaughtered,” Garrick
said. “Nor are they drained dry. We are not savages, Your Grace. We are…” He
swept his hand to the side. “A different species. Nothing more.”

“I bid you try to understand Antonia’s
apprehension and disquiet. You are the first Vampire she has encountered.”

“I will be gentle with her, Your Grace,”
Garrick said. “I will speak with her, allay her fears as best I can. Know this.
I will protect her, care for her, lay the world at her feet if she asks it of
me. Whatever she needs to alleviate her reservations, I will see she gets it. I
will do whatever it takes to make her happy. She gave me back my life. I will
give her the world.”

“That is all a father can ask,” the baron
said, a sudden smile lighting his round face.
“You have my blessing to wed my daughter.”

“That pleases me. Now. Tell me where I may
find her so I can begin to set her mind at ease.”

Garrick found her sitting in a wicker swing
in the garden. At his approach, she stilled like a deer caught in lantern
light, her hand on the chain beside her, gripping it so hard her knuckles bled
of color.

“Are you afraid of me, milady?”

The moonlight gleamed on her unbound ebony
hair. She shook her head. “No.”

“Then why are you sitting there as though
you expect me to pounce on you and rip out your throat?” he inquired.

She lifted her chin. “I don’t like cats.”

He angled his head slightly to the right.
“What don’t you like about them?”

“They’re sneaky and aloof and arrogant,”
she answered. “And they can be mean.”

“All things that could be said of me,” he
said, the lines crinkling at the edge of his piercing blue eyes. He hunkered
down before her and plucked a blade from the grass, put it to his lips, bit
down and spoke through a smile. “You left out lazy.”

“You are not helping your cause,” she
muttered, looking across the garden so she wouldn’t have to stare into his
mesmerizing gaze.

“Cats love people who are there for them,
who take care of them and keep them company.”

She turned to look at him. He was now
sitting with his legs crossed, wrists resting on his knees. He was gazing at
her as though she might well be his next meal. She felt the blood rising in her
cheeks but was unable to tear her eyes from him.

“I would never hurt you, Tonia,” he said
softly.

“You swear it?”

He put his right hand to his heart. “I
swear it.”

“I will hold you to it,” she said with a
sniff.

“I would expect nothing less from you,
dearling.”

“You sought me out for a reason, milord?”
she asked.

“To thank you,” he replied. “For saving my
life.”

She nodded for there was suddenly a lump in
her throat preventing her from speaking.

“And my sanity.”

Her inquisitive look prompted a long sigh
from him.

“That night you found me, I smelled your
perfume before I knew there was someone there,” he told her. “Gardenia. It is
the scent my mother used to wear. I equate it with being safe, protected.” His
smile wavered. “Loved.” He glanced away. “That scent dragged me up out of the
fiery pit I’d been thrown into. When I opened my eyes and saw you, I thought
you were the most beautiful woman in the world. I wanted you to touch me. I
willed you to touch me. I would have been happy with just the tip of one finger
on my face.”

“You compelled me?” she asked, eyes
widening. “You glamoured me?”

“No,” he was quick to say. “Not at all. I was
in so much pain, I hurt so badly, I just wanted the comfort. You were looking
down at me with compassion and I’ve known so little of that in my lifetime,
when it is given to me it’s like a drug I crave. I concentrated for as long as
I could each time I clawed my way to consciousness on the look in your eyes.
That kept me from drowning in the madness of my agony.”

“I am glad I could help,” she said and
found she meant it.

“So am I, milady. I will be forever
grateful you decided to take a moonlight ride with your sister.” His eyes were
glittering with an emotion she couldn’t fathom.

There was an awkward silence then she got
out of the swing.

“I-I need to change for the evening meal,”
she said, glancing up at the moon, which was sailing like a spectral ship
across the black sea of the sky.

“Then I bid you enjoy your repast,” he
said, tipping his head so he could look up at her.

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him
if she would see him at the table but caught herself in time. Panthera did not
eat human food.

Or did they?

“We do,” he said, reading her mind. “As
yet, I don’t feel up to solid food.”

“Your insides suffered as well from the sun?”
she asked.

He nodded. “They did. I could feel the
blood boiling within me.”

“I am sorry, milord,” she told him.

“That means much to me that you are,
milady,” he replied and once again that white-fanged smile broke over his
handsome face.

Antonia hurried away though every instinct
screamed at her to stay.

Garrick watched her hurrying into the keep.
He tracked her until he could no longer see her but her scent remained in the
air to entice him. Closing his eyes, he drew her deep into his lungs. No matter
where she went, he could find her by that scent. It was like the gardenia—fragile
and sweet with an earthy undertone that set his pulse to racing. The Vampire
inside him was attracted to the sweetness. The Panthera side of him reveled in
the subtle pheromones that wafted from her in gentle waves.

“Antonia,” he whispered.

She was his and he looked forward to the
day he could claim her.

He snapped open his eyes.

There was another scent on the breeze—one
he knew all too well—and he clenched his jaw.

“Show yourself, Zoltán,” he growled.

Marcus emerged from the deeper shadows of
the garden. His footsteps were as quiet as any large cat’s and the menace that
followed him was cloaked just beneath the surface.

“Was that your Life-mate?” Marcus asked.

“It was.”

The friend of his childhood stepped into a
shaft of moonlight. He was clothed in the black uniform of their kind, his hands
shoved into his pants pockets. “What’s she like?”

“Beautiful and smart and filled with
compassion,” Garrick said then shrugged. “Doesn’t like cats.”

“Huh,” Marc grunted. He snickered.
“Goddess, that’s rich.”

“So happy you find it amusing.”

“I find it refreshing that there’s a female
out there who isn’t trying to claw her way up your bod and sink her cunt onto
your cock, bro.”

Garrick pursed his lips at the reprimand.
“Why are you here?” he asked.

“Heard someone tried to sun-dry your ass.”

“Aye, my insides are still simmering. Did
my father send you?”

Marc chuckled. “That’s a good one. You’re
kidding, right?”

“I thought as much. Does he know what
happened?”

“Does a Diabolusian warthog fart when he
fucks?” Marcus countered. “You came close to buying it.”

“Too close for comfort,” Garrick agree.
“Closer than I ever wanted to be to the sun.”

“Tanning is bad for your complexion
anyway.”

“Ha. Ha,” Garrick threw back at him. “You
come on your own?”

“Oran is with me.”

“Well, of course he is. Where could you go
without your shadow?”

“Not funny,” Marc grumbled.

“Is to me,” Garrick told him.

“So what now?”

Garrick uncrossed his legs, arched his
back, planted his hands behind him, shot out his legs and vaulted to a standing
position.

“Don’t you ever get tired of showing off?”
Marc asked.

“Basic move, asshole,” he told his friend.
“You should have learned it at the academy.”

“I had better things to do with my time
than learn acrobatics,” Marc said with a sniff. “I was doing my best to major
in getting laid as often as possible and having my cock sucked until it bled.”

“You should have taught Oran not to bite,”
Garrick said.

“Fuck you,” Marc snapped. “You know we
don’t bend that way.”

“Lighten up, Zoltán. It was a joke.” He
started down the cobblestone pathway that led into the keep.

“One that might get your fangs knocked down
your throat one of these days.” He fell into step beside Garrick.

“Her father gave her hand to me,” Garrick
said, ignoring the threat.

Marc stopped walking to stare at his
friend’s back as Garrick kept walking. “In Joining?”

“No, as an appetizer,” Garrick replied. “Of
course in Joining.”

“You can have a Life-mate without legally
binding yourself to her,” Marc said. “You do know that, don’t you?” When
Garrick didn’t answer, Marc hurried to catch up. He pulled in front of him,
turned and began walking backward. “There are issues involved in a legal
Joining, Rick. Property ownership. Marital rights. Fucking monogamy!”

“I know,” Garrick said.

“Monogamy!” Marc repeated. “The same woman
night after night after…”

“I know.”

“And you can accept that?” Marc demanded.
“The man who once fucked twenty women in one night?”

“Tomcatting around in your youth is all
well and good, Zoltán, but when you reach maturity, you want something else.”

“Maturity?” Marc asked. “Who the fuck has
reached maturity?”

“Well, certainly not you, but I came close
to dying a few days ago. It gave me an entirely different way of looking at
things.” He used the back of his right hand to push his friend from the path.

Marc turned around. “I think your brain got
baked,” he said.

“When you meet her, you will understand,”
Garrick said. “This is the woman the goddess created for me.”

“You mean the trouble She created for you,”
Marc mumbled.

“Antonia saved my life.”

“Then buy her a fruit basket,” Marc said.
“Don’t fucking marry her!”

Garrick shook his head then draped an arm
around his companion. “You can’t dissuade me, Marc. Stop trying. I am going to
marry Antonia Blackthorn.”

“I hope you don’t live to regret that
decision,” Marc said ominously.

* * * * *

“He’s very handsome,” Cherise said as she
buttoned her mistress’s gown. “The only flaw is that Vampire paleness.”

“Aye,” Antonia agreed. “It is somewhat
off-putting.”

“But in the dark when he has you pinned
beneath him in his bed, it won’t matter,” Cherise said with a giggle.

“Shush!” Antonia said, her cheeks flaming.
“You are so bad.”

“Let’s hope he is so good with that monster
cock I saw when I bathed him,” Cherise said. “Lucky girl.”

Antonia did not know the task of bathing
the Crimson Lord had fallen to her lady’s maid. She wasn’t at all sure that
pleased her. If anything, it sent waves of jealousy through her.

“I would love to have that cock inside me,”
Cherise continued.

“That won’t happen,” Antonia said
succinctly. “Keep your hands from him!”

Staring at her mistress in the mirror
before which they stood, Cherise’s mouth formed a perfect O. Her gray eyes
glittered. “Feeling territorial are you, milady?” she asked slyly.

“Will you please finish buttoning me?”
Antonia chided. “I am famished and Cook has prepared roast duck for the meal
tonight.”

“Will he be sitting beside you at table?”
Cherise asked.

“Not tonight. He is still recuperating from
his ordeal.”

Cherise clucked her tongue. “That would
have been such a waste had you not rescued him.” She finished the last button
and put her hands on her mistress’ shoulder—a sign of the familiarity they
shared. “You do know what that would have meant, don’t you, milady?”

Antonia shivered and nodded. “I do. I would
never have known a Life-mate.”

“Bear that in mind in those times when he
irritates you—as he will considering he’s a man. Think what your life would
have been like without him.”

It was a sobering thought and somewhat
calmed the fears roiling around inside her. She smoothed her hands down the
form-fitting gown, turned her head from side to side. The artful curls Cherise
had wrought looked good against the scoop neck of the bodice.

“You look lovely,” her maid said. “He won’t
be able to take his eyes from you.”

“He won’t be there,” she reminded Cherise.

“No,” Cherise said, drawing out the word.
“But Lord Alyxdair will be.”

And he was. His deep-brown gaze riveted to
her the moment she entered the dining hall. He had leapt to his feet, skirting
the table to offer her his arm.

“Milady,” he said and the brown eyes
glittered.

She glanced uneasily to her mother.

“You may take his arm now, dear. The die
has been cast,” her mother told her.

She had always liked Alyx but there was
something not quite right about the way he looked at her. His look had always
been proprietary.

“Thank you, milord,” she said.

“It is my honor, milady,” he replied and
when she looked into his eyes, she saw such fury in the golden-brown depths she
almost stepped away from him. Her mother’s words seemed to have angered him for
his arm was rigid beneath her palm.

Escorting her to her chair, he pulled it
out for her. She felt his hand drag across her shoulders when he pushed it
forward again and she glanced up at him. His smile belied the rage that shown
like a beacon on his face.

“Have I done something to offend you,
milord?” she asked.

“Nay!” Alyx was quick to respond. “Why
would you think you have?”

She shook her head. “No reason.” She took
up her napkin and laid it in her lap, casting another uneasy look to her mother,
who sat at the opposite end of the table from her husband.

“I take it our guest will not be joining
us,” Lady Maripose said.

“He is still under the weather,” the baron
said.

“The sun almost did him in,” Alyx said as
he took his seat across from Antonia. It was his customary place when dining
with the Blackthorn family—which seemed to be almost daily. “Too bad it
didn’t.”

“Alyx!” Antonia said with a gasp, her eyes
wide.

“I was jesting, sweeting,” he said but the
smile he gave her was brittle and did not extend to his eyes.

“That is not something about which to
jest,” she told him.

“No, it was not and I apologize,” Alyx
said. She noted there was no contrition showing on his handsome face.

“You should be careful what you say,” the
baron chastised.

Alyx shook out his napkin. “I certainly
will in the future. So tell me, Tonia. Have you set the date for the Joining? I
assume there will be a gala for the event.”

“He has not asked me as yet,” Antonia said.

A bright spark entered Alyx’s dark gaze.
“Is it not a foregone conclusion then?”