His Ruthless Bite | Historical Paranormal Romance: Vampires (Scandals With Bite Book 4) (19 page)

“Not even close. Lord Villar is also at least a century older than him. However, Ian may be the most powerful. Power derives from one’s sire as well as age. One of the Elders reputably Changed him.” Gavin struggled to hide his envy. Ian could fly. Gavin was only barely learning how.

“I suppose that explains why I am so weak then. Blanche was only around seventy-five.” Her shoulders slumped a moment before she glanced back at him. “And the one who Changed you?”

“A vampire posing as a noblewoman from some exotic land. She was about two centuries old. All she wanted was to make a vampire who would be her obedient pet. I wanted to escape my servitude at the Church, so I embraced her offer gladly. Too late I discovered that life with her was merely a different sort of servitude. And I was
never
suited to that.” He laughed bitterly, unable to conceal his disgust at the memory. “Thankfully she grew bored with me after only a half century and moved onto another toy.”

“I cannot imagine you being anyone’s toy,” Lenore said solemnly. Her nose scrunched up in the most adorable manner. “How many times have you been married?”

Gavin chuckled. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she sounded jealous. “Only five times. Twice to Elena and three times to Anne. She left Rochester about a century ago.” He halted as he spotted two men stumbling out of the King’s Arms Inn. “Ah, there is our meal. We will follow them until they are out of public view, and then we’ll strike.”

“Like we’re actually hunting them?” she asked, sounding more intrigued than disapproving.

“Precisely.” He bared his fangs and licked his lips. “There is no need for you to present yourself as a victim, or even a seductress, as Elena amuses herself with doing. I prefer this manner best. It will make you feel like a real vampire.”

Keeping to the shadows, they stalked their prey through the winding streets. Gavin smiled in approval at Lenore’s whisper-light footsteps.

When the louts left the village proper to cut through an orchard, Gavin gave the signal to attack. In tandem, he and Lenore seized the men by the shoulders. Gavin’s victim made a small yip of terror before he managed to put the poor sod in a trance. He’d been distracted watching Lenore mesmerize the mortal she grasped.

Together they feasted until sated, then silently commanded the men to sleep, leaving them collapsed in a heap beneath an apple tree.

Taking Lenore’s arm, he grinned down at his new bride as they walked back to the village. “You did very well. How did it feel? To feed that way?”

“I should feel like a vicious monster,” she looked down at her boots as she stepped back up on the cobblestone street. “But instead, I liked it. I felt… powerful.”

“Good.” He nodded in satisfaction. From what he’d seen, every vampire Lenore had ever encountered seemed to do their utmost to convince her that she was weak. Yes, she was a youngling, and yes, she’d been Changed by a lesser vampire, but that did not mean that she was completely without strength. Gavin resolved to convince her of that fact.

As they neared the village square, he walked beside Lenore, watching her daintily dab her lips with a dark cloth, a disturbing scent reached his nostrils.

“Rogues,” he growled aloud without thinking.

Lenore’s face went pale, despite the hearty meal she’d just drank. Without another word, Gavin scooped her up in his arms and dashed back to his manor in a burst of preternatural speed. Cecil and John were on sentry duty at the borders of his estate.

“I smelled rogues near the village square. Come with me,” he told Cecil. Turning to the other vampire, he commanded. “Guard the perimeter. I will be sending you help as soon as I can. Do not let anyone pass unless it is myself, Cecil, or Benson.”

John bowed low. “Yes, my lord.”

Without another word, he carried Lenore to the house, only depositing her on the chaise once the front door was closed behind them. “I must leave you now, my lady, while I see to this urgent matter.”

Anger boiled within him as he strode out the front door. Bloody rogues. The terror in Lenore’s eyes at the very mention of them exacerbated his fury. Just as she’d begun to feel at ease, even to the point where she welcomed affection from him, they had to come about and ruin it all.

Even worse, they’d been in the village square. A bold move, and not a usual behavior from their cowardly sort. Anger and unease curdled in his belly like sour milk. Not only did such a deep invasion directly challenge his power and authority, the fact that they’d been able to pass so far into his territory meant that his people were in even greater danger than he’d first presumed.

Cecil and Benson flanking him, they spread out through the square, tracking the intruder’s scents and subtly questioning nearby innkeepers and harlots.

Unfortunately, the scents did not lead to a specific trail, veering off in all directions as if they’d known they would be tracked.

Gavin ground his teeth in irritation. Their leader was clever, whoever he was. Again, he wondered…

“I want scouting parties to patrol the village every hour,” he told his second and third in command. “Choose at least twenty qualified vampires tonight and we shall meet at the castle ruins tomorrow night.”

Cecil and Benson bowed and chorused, “Yes, my lord.”

Benson looked furious as he spat on the ground. “We’ll have these blasted curs rounded up and eliminated soon, I promise.”

As Gavin turned to walk back to the manor, he heard the crackle of parchment beneath his boot. Bending down, he picked up a pamphlet.

A perplexed frown twisted his lips as he read a list of ways to fend off vampires. How had this gotten here? The pamphlet had been written in the mid 1700’s. Although having rogues and a vampire hunter invade his territory at the same time was too much of a coincidence for him to swallow, he couldn’t fathom what rogue vampires would be doing with such literature, much less leave it lying around so conspicuously.

His scowl deepened as the most likely implication came to mind. Perhaps one of the villagers had grown suspicious.

Gavin would have to warn his people to remain discreet and vigilant. The pamphlet crumbled in his fist and it took all of his will to shove it in his pocket rather than rip it into a hundred pieces and scatter it in the wind.

Three nights later

Lenore dipped the quill in the ink, her hand cramping as she wrote the same lines for the twentieth time.

The Baron and Baroness of Darkwood request the pleasure of—
she filled in another name
—company for the supper and ball at Darkwood Manor, Thursday evening, the Thirtieth of March, at five o’clock.

It would be the first ball she’d ever hosted, and everything must be perfect, to make Gavin proud. Even though he’d been preoccupied meeting with his second and third in command and had barely spoken to her for the past three nights, she was still eternally grateful to him for holding and comforting her during their wedding night, or rather, day.

Although such intimacy must have tempted him, he’d resisted. Once more, the memory of the feel of his hard length against her haunted her imagination.

Not for the first time since that night, she began to wonder if she could ever try to be a true wife to him. Perhaps, with him, the act would not hurt so much. Perhaps it would even be possible for her to experience a semblance of pleasure.

Elena broke through her musings. “So, how is life as the Baroness of Darkwood?” she asked as she sealed another envelope.

“More pleasant than I’d anticipated,” she replied. “The servants have been very kind and I am looking forward to a bit of redecorating.” Suddenly remembering that Elena had once been mistress to this house, she quickly added, “I hope you do not mind.”

Elena laughed. “I haven’t been the mistress of this house for over a century. Anything I’ve done has to be dreadfully outdated. And that’s if Anne allowed any of my additions to remain.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Oh please tell me that you’re going to redo those hideous Rococo themed furnishings in the parlor.”

Lenore nodded so vigorously that she nearly dislodged her hair pins. “That is the first thing on my list. I have an appointment with the village carpenter tomorrow.” Her grin faded as she mustered up the courage to bring up a subject that had wormed its way into her mind. “What was Anne like?”

“A pleasant enough vampire, despite her dubious tastes in fashion and decor.” Elena smirked, whether in gentle mockery of Gavin’s other former wife, or in knowledge of the reason behind Lenore’s concern, she could not tell.

Lenore fought off a twinge of unease at the vague answer. “How did she and Lord Darkwood get on?”

“As partners in an arranged marriage, fairly well, though His Lordship told me that I was more amusing company.” She replied with a smug smile. “Anne certainly had the better benefit in the bargain.”

“How so?” Lenore asked, no longer caring if she sounded like a jealous shrew.

“She was a lover of women,” Elena said without the slightest hint of censure. “Her marriage to Lord Darkwood allowed her the perfect cover to pursue her affairs. And last century, Anne fell in love with the Lord of Salisbury, one of the few female Lord Vampires in Britain.”

Lenore’s shoulders relaxed in palpable relief that Rochester’s other marriage also had not been love matches. A sudden wave of guilt washed over her, threatening to choke her. She shouldn’t be happy that none of Gavin’s wives had loved him. He deserved to be loved.

“What is amiss?” Elena’s voice broke through her remorseful musings. “You look like someone ruined your favorite gown.”

Lenore looked down and smoothed her skirts. “I am sad for His Lordship. Has he never had someone who loved him?”

Elena’s eyes widened before her gaze turned distant and musing. “I’m not certain he has. If so, he’s never spoken of such.” She opened her mouth as if to say something else, and then she shook her head. “Do not worry overmuch. If he wanted love, he wouldn’t persist in making his marriages business arrangements.”

“Well, I want to do something kind for him.” The intensity of that desire tugged at her heart. “He’s shown me so many kindnesses.”

Elena shrugged, though a mysterious smile played across her lips. “Simply be a kind and obedient wife, care for his home, keep his secrets, and he will be happy.”

Lenore nodded, though that hardly felt like it was enough. She wanted to make him smile, give him comfort, ease his loneliness. But the only wifely thing she knew how to do was mending and housework.

Mrs. Crain and her maids appeared to have the cleaning well in hand, so after Elena left, Lenore went up to Gavin’s bedchamber and threw open the wardrobe. As she searched his garments for stains or tears, Gavin’s masculine scent permeated her senses, making her dizzy as things tightened in her lower body.

What was it about him that made her react so oddly?

Before she could ponder the question further, the butler knocked on the door. “I beg your pardon, my lady. A Doctor Elliotson is here to see you. I had him wait in the parlor.”

“Thank you, Finch,” Lenore replied and closed Gavin’s wardrobe. “I shall be right down. Please tell Mrs. Strout that we’d like some tea.”

Elliotson stood when she entered the parlor and bowed lower than necessary. “It is wonderful to see you, Lady Darkwood. Marriage agrees with you.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” she said.

After the tea was served, they talked of inconsequential matters such as the upcoming ball and her plans to redecorate. When they finished, Elliotson set down his cup and gave her a level gaze. “I am so pleased to hear of all the wonderful things you plan as a new baroness, and I am very impressed with your rise in rank.”

“And?” she prodded, knowing him well enough to know there would be more.

“I do not wish to be impertinent.” He tugged at his neck cloth. “But I do hope you don’t think you are above working with the commoners.”

Lenore shook her head with an indelicate snort. “Certainly not!” she retorted louder than intended. “I mean, the question was a trifle impertinent, though I can understand why you were concerned. So many of the noble class believe they are too good to help those less fortunate. I do not. In fact, my resolve is stronger than ever.”

“Splendid,” Elliotson rubbed his hands together with glee. “Now hopefully you may not think me too forward in that I have already arranged a meeting with a few women in the village tomorrow evening at seven. I do hope you will be able to join me.”

“Nothing could keep me from it.” Even as the bold words slipped from her mouth, an inner voice warned,
Rochester could.

Not if I do not tell him
, she countered inwardly.

***

Gavin headed up the stairs after another long night of hunting rogues. There had been traces of them everywhere, it seemed, but no definitive trail.

And they had come across more pamphlets about vampires. Even worse, he’d overheard villagers muttering about them over pints of ale. Wondering perhaps if such creatures were real. Gavin had been certain to feed on anyone voicing such dangerous speculations, leaving the conviction that there were no such things as vampires before releasing them from their trances.