His Ruthless Bite | Historical Paranormal Romance: Vampires (Scandals With Bite Book 4) (30 page)

Benson’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I am not clever?”

“No, but you must admit that his flavor of wit was different than your own. That is why you worked so well together.” Gavin willed himself to maintain patience as he reminded him.

Benson gave a reluctant nod. “You’re right. And as much as it pains me to admit, he was far more intelligent than Cecil, God rest his soul. Cecil was too impulsive at times.” His frown deepened. “What if Justus is pretending to be a Hunter to scare us?”

Gavin shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like him. And I refuse to believe he’d kill Cecil. Not after all they’d been through together.”

Lenore squirmed in Gavin’s arms. “Who is Justus?” she repeated impatiently.

“I’ll tell you the whole tragic tale later tonight, I promise.” Though Gavin was not eager to reveal to Lenore that
he
had made a rogue. Not only that, but possibly one who was now leading a band to terrorize his people. After what she’d been through, he dreaded her reaction to
that
bit of information. Reluctantly, he released her. “Benson and I must go now to arrange another Gathering and try to find evidence of the Hunter. Elena should be here any moment to guard you.”

Lenore shook her head. “I am going with you. You said these are now my people. I want to do what I can to help protect them.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Gavin growled.

A voice spoke behind them. “Yes, she will.”

Elena entered the library and faced Gavin with a defiant glare. “If there is a Hunter about, there is no way I am remaining here while you men embark on another fruitless chase and waste time alerting our people just between the two of you. And since Lenore is not to be left alone, she will accompany me.”

“Elena…” Gavin began. She had a point, but…

“Don’t you ‘Elena’ me.” The vampire drew herself up to her full height. “I am older and stronger than Cecil or Benson. And I’ve slain a few Hunters in my centuries. If you don’t wish your wife to come with you, she can accompany Cecil and me.” Her eyes scanned the room. “Where is he?”

The silence fell so heavy one could hear a mouse scuttle across the next floor.

“Cecil was slain,” Gavin said through numb lips. “By the Hunter.”

Elena drew back as if he’d slapped her. “Cecil?” Her voice cracked with sadness before her eyes glowed a fiery amber and her lip curled up to bare her fangs. “I’ll drain the son of a bitch dry!” Picking up her skirts, she marched from the room, leaving everyone else no choice but to follow.

***

Justus entered the pub and his eyes lit with fury as he saw Rolfe speaking with the stranger who’d come here the night before. His gaze narrowed at the big leather bag at the man’s feet, full of lumps as if carrying a plethora of items, and with a cross tooled on the front flap, above the clasp. Justus had seen a similar bag before.

Gathering his courage, he plastered a carefree smile on his face before taking a seat next to his friend.

“Justus, old chap!” Rolfe’s eyes widened in surprise before he spoke with equally feigned cheer. “What brings you out and about? I’d thought your pockets were emptied by that tart you’ve taken a fancy to.”

Justus blinked at the absurd lie, then smiled as he realized it would suit his purpose just fine. “Oh, they would be if you did not owe me five pounds for our wager.” He chuckled at Rolfe’s perplexed frown. “Though perhaps you’d prefer to discuss that in private? Your new friend does not need to know how poor a gambler you are.”

“On the contrary.” The stranger’s voice had a raspy undertone, like the hiss of a snake. “Such information would be extremely useful to a gambling man.”

Justus gave him a tight smile before clapping his arm on Rolfe’s shoulder. “Now what kind of friend would I be if I allowed a stranger to take advantage of my mate’s gullibility? Come now, Rolfe, the ale and wenches will still be here when you get back. I won’t completely clean out your pockets. Only lighten them.”

The stranger continued to study Justus with a thoroughness that made goose bumps rise on his arms. “I do hope you’ll forgive my forwardness, but you have the most striking hair. I cannot say I’ve ever seen such a shade. It almost appears unnatural.”

“I’m afraid it
is
indeed unnatural,” Justus said with a tragic sigh. “I’d tried for a position at the mill, but the miller wouldn’t hire Irishmen, so I tried to dye my hair brown.” He managed a self-deprecating chuckle. “It did not take, as you can see. Rolfe here won that wager.”

The stranger looked unimpressed with Justus’s oft’ used excuse. “You do not sound Irish.”

“Better safe than sorry.” Justus stood, pulling Rolfe with him. “Anyway, we must be going. Perhaps we may share a pint later.”

“I certainly hope so.” The stranger held out his hand. “My name is Walter Von Bronkhorst. Your friend Rolfe has been a fascinating drinking companion. I’d wager you would be even more interesting.”

“Truly, I’m a dull sort,” Justus kept his tone bland and indifferent. Quickly, he hauled Rolfe out of the pub, keeping his senses open in case Von Bronkhorst decided to follow.

“What is the matter with you?” Rolfe said, though Justus could hear a note of guilt in his tone.

“Be quiet until we return to our lair.” He led them in a circuitous route, clamping his hand tighter on Rolfe when he tried to use his vampire speed. “Not now. I do not want us to be seen. Wait until we reach that copse of trees.

Once they returned to their chamber under the castle ruins, Justus’s anger rose when they came upon Will stoking a small fire. “Idiot! Put that out immediately. Do you want someone to see the smoke?”

“But I’m tired of being cold,” Will argued with a petulant frown. “And you said we’d be safe as long as we only come here after Rochester has had a Gathering.”

“We can survive the cold,” Justus snarled. “But we cannot survive a stake through the heart. Rolfe has lured a Hunter here.”

“What?” Will leapt to his feet and quickly doused the fire with the last of their water, which they drank to feel full if they were not able to hunt.

“I don’t know what you are going on about,” Rolfe began indignantly, though his face gave away his guilt.

“Shut it, Rolfe,” Justus snapped, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I am the leader here, so that makes me the Lord Vampire of our little trio. Do you wish to learn the punishment of lying to your lord? If not, tell me the truth at once.”

Rolfe sank to his knees. “All right! I saw his advertisement in the circular and wrote him an anonymous note asking him to come. I thought that if he heard all the talk we’d hinted about Rochester’s bride, he would dispose of our problem.”

“You fool!” Justus roared. “I don’t want him dead. I want him exiled! Banished by the Elders, or better yet, cast out by those he calls friends. Besides, all you have done is make our situation more precarious. You heard the talk of Lady Darkwood’s saintly deeds and how Elliotson was vindicated by his ability to walk about in the daylight. Not to mention the fact that Darkwood Manor is heavily guarded and no one knows exactly where he and his wife rest during the day. A Hunter couldn’t get near them if he tried. That’s why they always pick off the poor and the weak… such as ourselves.”

“I’m sorry m’ lord,” Rolfe stammered, eyes wide with fear in the realization of what he’d done. “I was only—”

Justus held up a hand and crossed the length of the chamber to gather his things. “We must move at once. Back to the cathedral. For one thing, most Hunters still believe we cannot enter holy ground, for another, Rochester shall hear of this Hunter at any moment and call another Gathering.”

As they scrambled out from the bowels of the castle and ran off like thieves in the night, Justus wondered if it would be better to take his comrades away from this place and abandon his quest for vengeance.

But when he closed his eyes and saw Bethany’s angelic face, he knew he couldn’t give up now. Not when he was so close.

Lenore clung to Gavin’s hand as he warned the terrified vampires about the Hunter and the rogues. Her heart weighed heavy with pain at the sorrow in his voice when he told them about Cecil’s death.

“Some people say that we have no souls,” he said, eyes haunted and solemn. “But I don’t believe that. We’re also not reanimated corpses, after all, as many humans believe.” He cracked a small smile, attempting to bring a touch of humor. Eyes glistening when he elicited a few chuckles, he continued. “I believe Cecil had a soul and was a good person. Brave, loyal, and kind. I believe he is in some sort of heaven, whether the one mentioned in the bible, where he is reunited with his mortal family, or perhaps one for our kind. As soon as the Hunter and rogues are eliminated, we shall gather together to honor and celebrate his memory.”

Lenore watched her husband with comfort and awe at his touching speech. Both the Duke of Burnrath and Lord Villar had honored London vampires who had died, but never with such warm regard and comfort to those who’d known and mourned the fallen.

Gavin allowed a long moment of silence before he spoke again. “For our last order of business, I appoint Elena as my new third in command.”

“Elena,” the vampires chorused and bowed their heads in tandem as Elena knelt before Gavin.

“I will hold my post with honor and loyalty,” she said solemnly before Gavin helped her to her feet.

“I know you will,” he told her with a wan smile before turning back to his people. “This Gathering is adjourned. Remember, do not go anywhere alone until we’ve purged every threat from our land.”

Two by two, the Rochester vampires filed out of the chamber through various tunnels, to avoid the attention a large group would draw.

Just as Gavin, Lenore, Benson, and Elena were about to head out, the sound of running footsteps skittered across the stone floor.

“My lord!” A slight, blonde female vampire burst into the chamber. “Someone else has been down here. I smelled a trace of fresh smoke.”

Gavin’s eyes widened before he regained his composure. “Thank you for informing me, Kate.” His brows drew together. “Where is your companion for the night?”

Kate flushed. “Alan is at the entrance to the tunnel where we smelled the smoke.”

Gavin sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Did I not just command you to stay together at all times?”

Her lips parted in fearful realization. “I’m sorry, my lord, I—”

“Never mind.” He waved his hand impatiently. “Show me this tunnel.”

Gavin tucked Lenore behind him, having Elena and Benson flank her as they followed Kate down a narrow corridor that branched off in three different directions. Kate pointed at the one to the left, thick with cobwebs and littered with rubble. As they proceeded down the treacherous path, Lenore detected the faint trace of smoke, as if a fire had recently been lit somewhere nearby.

They came upon a tall, lanky male vampire who stood with his fists slightly raised at his sides, as if expecting to fend off a sudden attack. When he saw Gavin, he dropped to his knees. “My lord.”

“Alan.” Gavin gestured for him to rise. “Kate said you found an entrance to another tunnel. Where is it?”

Lenore looked behind Alan, blinking in surprise to see nothing but a stone wall.

Then Alan turned and shoved his arm around it. What had looked to be a shadow was in fact a fissure. Gavin peered inside and sniffed. “The smoke definitely originated from here.” He turned back to Benson and Elena. “Stay here.”

“Not a chance, my lord,” Benson argued.

“Very well,” Gavin shrugged. “Kate and Alan, you may go home now. And stay together, for God’s sake!”

As Benson followed Gavin into the dark, narrow passage, Lenore glanced back at Elena to see if she would stop her from following. Instead, Gavin’s new third in command gave her a brisk nod, ushering her forward.

The tunnel was so dark that even with their preternatural senses, it was difficult to see much more than the outline of the vampire in front of her. Lenore’s mouth went dry and her pulse accelerated with every step. What would they find at the end of the tunnel? Were the rogues hiding there, or the Hunter? Neither sounded appealing, though she’d somewhat prefer the latter as there was only one Hunter and four of them. Lord knew how many rogues were about. Lenore wished she could hold onto Gavin’s arm, but Benson flanked him, as was his duty as second in command.

Finally, the tunnel widened so Gavin and Benson could walk abreast. Tentatively, Lenore reached out to place a hand on her husband’s back, needing a touch of comfort. Enclosed places had bothered her ever since her captivity.

Gavin glanced over his shoulder and met her gaze. Whether or not he disapproved of her presence, she could not tell. Suddenly, he and Benson halted, causing her to bump into him.

“Vampires,” he whispered, reaching back to steady her.

She shivered. It
was
the rogues. Were they still there? If so, could they hear Gavin and his companions approaching?

She held her breath as they crept forward. By the time they emerged in a somewhat large chamber, black spots danced before her vision. She’d heard that vampires could survive without breathing, well,
survive
wasn’t the best term. They’d die, but revive again the moment they were exposed to the slightest bit of air.