Immortal With a Kiss (30 page)

Once it was in his hands, he twisted the stalks, grunting with the effort. Then he muttered an exclamation and dropped it on the floor. We both stepped back, for the thing was still whole. The tendrils lay like snakes against the dirt-strewn floor.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

He nodded. “I think it bit me.” He inspected his hands. “No blood. Not that I think it could harm me. But we really don’t know what this thing is capable of, do we?”

I looked at the wound. The bite had not penetrated Valerian’s flesh. I blew out a breath of relief.

“There,” he indicated. The vile orchid was twisting on the floor.

Stepping forward, I angled my heel just under the head of the blossom. It gaped at me, dragon’s jaws ready to snap into the flesh of my ankle. A wave of nausea came over me, and I realized this creature—or plant, which was it?—was doing this at will. With a cry of determination, I summoned my strength and brought my heel down sharply onto the stalk, where the base of the head of the flower lay. The sound of the flower’s flesh being compressed was like the snap of bones. Valerian grabbed me, snatching me out of the way as the thing began to bleed.

An incredible stench rose up into the air, permeating the room. I choked and stumbled back, feeling like I had been struck in the chest by a hammer. As I doubled over, I heard Valerian mutter a curse and saw him throw himself between the writhing orchid and me.

The pounding at my door resumed, accompanied by Miss Sloane-Smith’s commanding voice: “Emma Andrews, open up this door at once.”

“Keep them out!” Valerian directed. He rummaged through my bag until he found an empty vial, one of those which I used to carry holy water. The water had been poured out a while ago—by one of the coven girls, I had little doubt. Valerian took the vial, dried it thoroughly with a corner of his shirttail, and blew in it to make certain it was completely dry.

“Hurry,” I said. The pounding was like thunder in the small space.

He wagged his head, either to hush me or tell me he was hurrying as fast as he could, and stooped to the spreading pool of blood. The plant was still gushing in rhythmic spurts, as if a beating heart pushed the blood through human veins. Carefully, Valerian laid the vial on the floor, taking great care not to allow the blood to touch his skin as he collected as much as he could.

“What are you doing?”

He looked at me askance. “It is vampire blood, or something like it. We should not just throw it away.” Carefully, he pushed the stopper in, sealed the vial, and stuffed it in his pocket. Then he turned back to me. “Get your things.”

This I did swiftly, for I knew I would not be returning. It did not take me long to throw my belongings into a pelisse. I would send for the portmanteau later.

When I opened the door to my bedchamber and exited it for the last time, Glorianna Sloane-Smith was red-faced with indignation. If I had ever suspected her of being the Cyprian Queen, I would not believe it after seeing her now. Never was a member of the undead so ruddy-faced with impotent rage. If she could have struck me, I had no doubt she would have done so. I suspected Valerian’s presence was the only thing that spared me that indignity.

“I am resigning my position” was all I offered as explanation for my extraordinary behavior as I swept past her. “I will send someone for the rest of my things.”

My fellow teachers were crowded into the hall. Facing them felt like running a gauntlet. I felt the burn of shame, although I’d done nothing wrong; far to the contrary, I’d saved lives. But they did not know that. I would disappear into their memories as a madwoman, and a whore to boot as I’d openly brought a man into my bedchamber.

Catching the eye of Eloise Boniface, I saw she was confused and sympathetic. I wished I could explain, although I doubted she would believe me.

Valerian touched my arm gently. “Come, Emma. We must hurry.”

His presence beside me was comforting and I shot him a grateful look. I had been the subject of scorn for nearly my whole life, but I had never had anyone with me, protecting me.

I turned and walked beside him with purpose, down the steps, through the hallway, and out the front doors of Blackbriar School for Young Ladies for the last time.

By the time we arrived at the Rood and Cup, conferred with Sebastian and Father Luke, and laid out a simple but lethal plan, the hour had grown late. I felt nervousness grip my stomach as we discussed whether we dare wait until the morrow. It was decided we should not. This night might well be the last for the girls, and others.

Although I agreed that we must act quickly, I was filled with disquiet as we made our battle preparations. For the task we had before us, darkness was not our friend.

Chapter Twenty-five

W
hen I entered Suddington’s home with Valerian, I was struck by how empty it seemed. It was as if all of a sudden I could plainly see this was not the home of a living man.

“It appears deserted,” I said, and listened to how my voice fell dead into the air. “When I was here at a party, it was enchanting.”

Valerian nodded. “An excellent choice of words. The aura of charm a vampire can cast can beguile very thoroughly.”

“I thought I would see through that . . . Oh. That is right—he had potted orchids all about.”

“Well, that is your explanation.”

“I also felt . . . beguiled when I saw him away from here,” I said softly, and wondered at my desire for confession. I had been attracted to Suddington and I felt guilty on that account.

“He wore a flower on his coat, you said.”

“Most times,” I admitted, somewhat mollified.

“If it was not in sight, you can be certain he had it on his person somewhere.”

He spoke as if that excused me for my unfaithful infatuation. I knew differently. I had felt betrayed by Valerian when I’d first come here, and I had welcomed the feelings toward Suddington. Knowing that now twisted my stomach with disgust.

Valerian pulled me into a corner. He hunkered down to open his sack, drawing out a long, curved sword I had never seen before. Meeting my gaze, he explained, “It was Naimah’s.” He unsheathed the slender scimitar from its scabbard, pausing for a moment as it winked in the light as if impishly acknowledging its handler. “We should get everything in place now. Sebastian has assured us there are no servants about.”

Sebastian had braved his dislike of Mrs. Danby, deftly targeting her pride in knowing all that was to be known in the neighborhood, to learn that none of the Holt Manor staff lived in.

I fished in my own bag, taking out what I needed for my work. “All right, then. Where should we look for his bower? In the bedrooms?”

Valerian gave me a strange look. “I would wager the cellars are a more likely place.”

Of course. “Right,” I agreed.

We started toward the back of the house but I was suddenly overcome by an attack of anxiety and I stopped, pulling on Valerian’s arm. “Hold on one moment. Should we wait for the signal from Father Luke?”

“No. They will go ahead.” He peered at me, concerned. “Do you not remember, they need not wait for us. We discussed this, Emma.”

Yes. I remembered now. I shook my head, wondering why I had gotten confused.

Valerian leaned in to speak softly. “The orchids. You are already feeling the effects, as am I.”

I suddenly felt as if all my strength, my clarity, my focus were flowing out of me, leaving me weak and disoriented.

But Valerian was beside me. His strong grip on my shoulder reassured me. “We will feel better in a moment,” he said, giving me a bracing look. “Wait for Father Luke and Sebastian.”

I smiled and nodded. Once the orchids were destroyed, we could conduct our search for Ruthven’s resting place in these waning hours of daylight.

But our hopes were in vain.

A voice cut into the air, filling the room, making us jump as it rose up and rebounded around us. “Ah. . . . Here she is. My sister has come to me at last.”

Suddington stood before us, having materialized out of the gathering darkness in the space of a few heartbeats. I cringed, feeling unnaturally nervous. I should have seen him coming. That was one of my gifts. The damnable orchids were confounding me!

He reached for me imploringly, smiling a lascivious welcome. “Yes, my sweet Emma. She with the face that launched a thousand ships.” He laughed, clapping his hands together in delight. “Did you never guess my little jest?
Is this the face that launched a thousand ships?
”

Valerian shouldered me aside, inserting himself between us as Suddington’s voice rang out.
“And burnt the topless towers of Illium?
Sweet Helen,
make me immortal with a kiss.” Here he grinned, and the cracks of his guise showed in a terrible leer. “Ah, Marlowe, he understood things. Did you never wonder at that phrase, and the next,
Her lips suck forth my soul
. . .”

Without preamble or reply, Valerian raised his scimitar.

Suddington appeared unperturbed. “Are you not a fan of Mister Christopher Marlowe? I knew him, you know.” He grinned triumphantly. “I admired him so. I would follow him about, see every one of his plays as they were staged. Ah, but
Doctor Faustus
. . . that was a work of genius. To sell one’s soul for the promise of immortality. You see what I mean, that he knew things?” He smiled almost dreamily. “At any rate, I like to think so.”

He mused pleasantly, as if we were seated in a parlor leisurely sipping tea, “Those days, you cannot imagine such greatness as those among whom I walked. When I was changed, I wanted to take that capacity for beautiful language and make it mine. And so I did.”

“You are saying you fed from him.” There was disbelief in Valerian’s tone.

Suddington lifted his chin. “I have elevated myself through the centuries, through him and many others. Oh, such stories I could tell.”

“Save your stories,” I interjected. The truth was, I could not bear to hear his voice. It was causing me to remember the attacks he perpetrated on me, and I felt my flesh cringe and crawl.

Suddington peered at me, caught completely unawares by my rejection of his great oratory. My outburst seemed to have a deleterious effect on him, and this gave me an idea.

I rode the wave of boldness that had come over me. “I am not interested in your delusions of superiority. Evil is not elevated. It does not even require much imagination, nor does it need intellect. Its only requirement is a soulless heart, and that is not so uncommon.”

His smile returned, if a bit stiffly—how human these creatures could be—as his hands swept outward. “I could tell you of beauty, of pleasure . . .”

I knew at once I was in trouble, recoiling as memory of his physical touch flooded me. Where were Sebastian and Father Luke? I needed to be at my full strength!

Two things saved me. One was Valerian pressing his fingers against my side. Second was my pride, which forbade me to back down, no matter my fears. “You are just a vampire,” I told him swiftly, cutting him off, glad my voice did not waver. “In life, your name was George Smythe, and you were a murderer who preyed on young girls weaker than yourself to feel strong and powerful. Even now you are weak, insignificant, filled with the need for others to admire you, revere you.”

His eyes grew hard, small pinpoints of hot coal glowing rage at me. The sight of his brewing rage gave me pause. I wanted him agitated, but I knew full well I was prodding a bear I could not tame. The line I trod was a fine one.

“I wonder why you have need for such boasting. I would guess for all your seductions and promises of unsurpassed pleasure, you never partake of the flesh—not as you are, of course. You used the Irish boy as your surrogate for the consummation of desire. But even as a man, were you ever able to satisfy a woman’s carnal demands?”

His facial muscles twitched. I had struck upon it, then. What, I wondered, was I supposed to do now? I felt a little cowed by the madness I saw in him.

“Emma, have a care . . .” Valerian muttered under his breath.

But there was no turning back, and no other choice that I could see. “There is, at the heart of your compulsions, simply the same sickness and evil that ruled you when you were human. You must kill, but not simply to feed. You boast of love, but in truth you despise these poor victims for they cannot give you what you need. No one can.”

His mouth curled, and to my shock I saw his jaw tremble. I felt my stomach flip, knowing I’d struck exactly on the truth and wondering what I’d wrought.

The air charged instantly. Valerian grasped my wrist, a gesture of warning. I pressed on. “Now you are a vampire, and since you will never die, you have consigned yourself to an eternity of this cycle, ever coming to the same end. Rejection, terror, disgust—”

“I am a god!” he thundered, but the power of his boast was undermined by a whining, desperate quality to his voice.

“You are a worm,” I countered, riding this mad wave of boldness that had taken me over. It was reckless, even desperate; I might not have my Dhampir powers, but I had my tongue. And my hatred. “A very bad man made eternal by the vampire transformation.”

“You dare . . .” But it was not fury that shook in his voice; it was disbelief.

“I shall dare much more before this night is out. I am no longer in thrall to your spell. We found the
dracula chimaera
you hid in my room. I crushed it under my heel. It still had traces of blood inside it, the blood you fed it to make the charm. The only question I have is, was the blood yours or your victims? How does this magic work?”

He reared, his face contorting into an expression of horror. It was as if I’d just told him of the death of his beloved child. “You! You have vexed me all along. I should have destroyed you. Damn my ambition, to want you as I did.” His eyes glittered malevolently as he studied Valerian and me, and I saw something dawn on his features. “Oh. Oh, look at the two of you. I see it now, why did I not realize it before?” He squinted at me, a chilling leer spreading over his face. How had I once thought him charming? “You already love, my dear,” he said, sliding the words out with a sneer. “That is why I could not have you. Of course. There is nothing more mighty on all the earth than love, you know. That is why I use it. But I could not corrupt you. How that perplexed me in the beginning. You were so unattainable.”

The vampire fumed at me. Then he grinned. “But you were not completely immune, were you? No. You should know—” he turned to Valerian, “—she was not uninterested.”

I flushed, feeling a hot wave of embarrassment. But I had to keep him engaged. “I think you flatter yourself.” That was a lie. Suddington knew it and it incensed him.

He leveled a finger at me and squinted as his lips curled in a derisive sneer. “I know I do not. True, you resisted. The night of the dinner party, you were able to rebuke me when I brought you among my orchids and tried to kiss you. Then, when I tried to take you—do you remember, that time on the road?—I wanted to show you what I could do, what I could give, and you would not let me . . .” His voice choked off, as if grief and rage made it impossible to continue.

I waited. I was curious, I admit. I wanted to know why he had singled me out. Valerian’s hand on my wrist tensed, but he remained silent as well.

When Suddington spoke again, it was with something of a wail. “Why could you not see how it would have been so perfect? But you fought me. You denied me . . .” His face crumpled with sadness and frustration for a moment. Then he snapped his head up, his mood changed again to renewed anger. “Then I realized what you were. I’d never met the Dhampir before. Little vampire. And I could not have you, not as I wanted, because
he
was there before me.” He pinned Valerian with a malevolent glare, then his quicksilver thoughts shifted again and he laughed. “How rich! Marius’s half-made brat and a child of Lliam!”

Valerian cut him off, demanding sharply, “Where did you learn of the power of the orchid?”

Suddington threw his head back and glared at Valerian. “Why should I tell you?”

It was the wrong approach, I saw immediately. But I had seen how to get under this vampire’s skin.

I angled my head toward Valerian. “Do not bother. He probably stole it. He is no better than a common thief.”

I had been right to prick his pride. Suddington snapped his head toward me, his smile melting like wax. “You think you know so much! It was a gift. Long ago, my father—and your father, too!—the son of the great Dracula, picked me. He saw my work. He knew me, and he bestowed his favor on me.”

“And how did you distinguish yourself so much that he ‘picked you’?” I made the doubt in my voice drip from every word. “He has made over other vampires, surely. I do not think you were so special.”

“Ah, but you are wrong!” he announced proudly. “There is power in taking a life, but it is not as simple as mere murder. You will never know how great and important it is what I alone can do. I select these girls, elevate them, take them to heights of passion and love. The sacrifice of their lives is beautiful in the end, joyous even. This is what Lliam understood. It is why I was given the gift.”

“He uses you,” Valerian cut in sharply, his tone unimpressed. He had picked up on my game, seen how disconcerted my taunts had rendered our foe. “You are merely a tool for him.”

“That is not true!” Suddington countered, his lips trembling with rage.

“If he thought so highly of you, why are you not by his side?” Valerian glanced over at me as if we shared a joke at the vampire’s expense.

I picked up his lead. “Oh, I have no doubt you are useful. But as to your strange and terribly perverse . . . proclivities, I dare say those have no true admirer save yourself.” I cocked my head at him. “That is the trouble, isn’t it? No one really has ever been able to understand you. Not even the great Lliam.”