Authors: Alexandra Ivy

My Lord Vampire (20 page)

BOOK: My Lord Vampire

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Roke traced the symbol in the air. “Here they are joined.”

Styx nodded. When Laylah had found the children they’d been wrapped in the same stasis spell and she’d assumed there was only one child.

“Yes.”

“And then they were separated.” Roke pointed toward the second etching. “The Omega is lost to the mists.”

Viper muttered a low curse. Styx didn’t blame him.

They’d struggled to protect the children, but while Laylah and Tane had managed to rescue the boy child and name him Maluhia, the girl child had been taken through the barriers between dimensions and used by the Dark Lord in his attempt to return to this world.

Styx shifted his attention to the last symbol. “What’s this?”

“The children reunited.”

Hissing in disbelief, Styx turned to meet Roke’s steady gaze, the pale silver eyes even more eerie than usual.

“Reunited?”

“‘The Alpha and Omega shall be torn asunder and through the mists reunited,’” the clan chief of Nevada murmured, quoting the Sylvermyst Prophecy.

“Maluhia,” Viper breathed, his expression grim. “Cassandra was warning us that the baby is in danger.”

“Shit.” Styx shoved his hand in his pocket to yank out his cell phone, his sense of furious urgency frustrated by the realization there was no service. He needed to get back to civilization. Now. Grasping the startled Roke by the upper arm, he headed back across the desert at a blinding speed. “You’re coming with us.”

Three weeks earlier
Las Vegas

The Forum shops in Caesar’s Palace were a wonderland for any female, let alone one who had spent the past thirty years secluded from the world.

Beneath the ceilings that were painted to resemble a blue sky, the elegant stores wound their way past fountains that were intended to give the image of being transported back to Roman days, their glass display cases filled with the sort of temptation designed to make any woman drool.

With a wry smile, Caine stepped behind his dazzled companion to wrap his arms around her waist, tugging her back flat against his chest.

He could only wish Cassie would look at him with that same wistful longing, he ruefully acknowledged.

Or perhaps not, he swiftly corrected as his body hardened with a familiar, brutal need.

Since discovering Cassie being held prisoner in the cave of a demon lord weeks ago, Caine had done his best to play the role of Knight in Shining Armor.

After all, Cassie had not only been altered in the womb not to shift, but she was as innocent as a babe and twice as vulnerable.

Add in the fact she was the first true prophet born in centuries, and currently being hunted by every demon loyal to the Dark Lord, and she was a disaster waiting to happen.

She desperately needed a protector.

And since Caine (once a mere cur) had died and been resurrected as a pureblooded Were in her arms, he’d assumed that protecting Cassie was the reason the fates had returned him to this world instead of leaving him to rot in his well-deserved hell.

Unfortunately, his miraculous return to life hadn’t included a sainthood and he remained a fully, functioning male with all the usual weaknesses.

Including a rampaging lust toward the tiny female currently wrapped in his arms.

As always completely impervious to his torment, Cassie breathed a soft sigh of wonder.

“Oh ...”

“Cassie.” Bending down, he spoke directly in her ear. “Cassie, listen to me.”

She tilted back her head to meet his narrowed gaze and Caine briefly forgot how to breathe.

Holy shit, but she was beautiful.

Her hair was pale, closer to silver than blond, and pulled into a ponytail that fell to her waist. Her skin was a perfect alabaster, smooth and silken. Her eyes were an astonishing green, the color of spring grass and flecked with gold.

Her face was heart-shaped with delicate features that gave her an air of fragility that was only emphasized by her slender body. Of course, beneath her jeans and casual sweatshirt, she possessed the lean muscles of all pureblooded Weres.

“What?” she prompted when he continued to gawk at her in mindless appreciation.

He sucked in a deep breath, savoring the warm scent of lavender that clung to her skin.

“You promised me that you would blend.”

She wiggled from his grasp and darted toward the nearest store to press her face against the window.

“Mmmm. Pretty.”

Caine rolled his eyes. “I knew this was a mistake.”

“There’s so many,” she murmured as he moved to stand beside her. “How do you choose?”

“We’ll go into a store, pick out a few of your favorite clothes, and try them on ...”

“Okay.”

Without waiting for him finish, Cassie was darting through the open doorway. Caine was swiftly on her heels, but with immaculate timing a buxom nymph with dark hair and brown eyes pretended to stumble and landed against his chest.

Instinctively his hands reached to grasp her shoulders, his sapphire blue eyes narrowed with irritation.

Once upon a time he had appreciated beautiful females tossing themselves into his arms. Even though he’d been a mere cur, his short blond hair that fell across his brow and tanned, surfer good-looks made sure he had more than his fair share of babes. And it didn’t hurt that his body was chiseled with lean muscles beneath the low-riding jeans and tight T-shirt.

And oh yeah, he’d made an obscene fortune cranking out prescription drugs from his private lab.

Now it took every ounce of willpower to politely set aside the damned nymph and not toss her into the line of sleek metallic mannequins showing off the latest designer swimwear.

“Didn’t we meet in ...” she began, but Caine wasn’t listening as he swept past her and headed straight toward the tiny blonde who was fingering a white sundress with black polka dots.

“Cassie.”

He had barely reached her side when her hands reached for the bottom of her sweatshirt and began pulling it over her head.

“I want to try it on.”

“Holy shit.” He grabbed her hands, yanking the sweatshirt back into place. “Wait.”

She frowned in confusion. “But you said ...”

“Yeah, I know what I said,” he muttered. When was he going to learn she took every word quite literally?

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Never.” He brushed a finger over her pale cheek. Christ, she was so unbearably innocent. “Why don’t you show me what you like and I’ll pick out the right size?”

“You can do that just by looking?”

His lips twisted in a dry smile. “It’s a gift.”

“A well-practiced gift?”

He stilled, regarding her in surprise. Despite the fact they’d been constant companions over the past weeks, Cassie rarely seemed aware of his presence, let alone the fact that he was a red-blooded male.

Not that he took it personally.

She was plagued by her visions of the future and too often impervious to the world around her.

“Are you truly interested?” he husked.

She flashed him a dimpled smile. “Perhaps.”

He swallowed a growl, his body once again hard and aching. She was going have him a raving lunatic before this was over.

“Better than nothing.” He motioned toward the hovering saleslady, indicating he wanted one of the sundresses before steering Cassie toward the khaki shorts and pretty summer tops. “Now, let’s choose a few sensible outfits before we move on.”

Within an hour they had a reasonable pile of clothes for both of them and a bill that would make most men shudder in horror.

Caine, however, didn’t so much as flinch as he gathered the packages and headed out of the store. They had left Missouri after Cassie had offered her warning to Laylah with nothing more than the clothes on their backs. Tonight he intended to enjoy a hot shower, clean clothes, good food, and a soft bed.

In that order.

In silence they wandered down the wide passageway, occasionally halting for Cassie to peer into the windows.

For the moment Caine was content to allow her to behave as a normal female. It was all too rare that she was able to put aside the burden of her visions.

And as long as he didn’t detect any danger lurking. . .

His brain closed down as his searching gaze was snared by the sight of lace and ribbons and feminine temptation spread in front of a shop window.

Instinct alone had him herding Cassie through the door and into the hushed atmosphere of the exclusive store.

“What are you doing?” she asked in confusion.

“We did your shopping, now it’s my turn,” he informed her, moving toward a table that held a pile of satin teddies.

Oh ... hell.

Cassie halted at his side, her expression puzzled. “Here?”

“Absolutely.” Dropping his packages, Caine reached for a scarlet teddie, holding up the fragile garment for her inspection. “What do you think?”

“Tiny.” There was a faint hint of dimples. “I don’t think it will fit you.”

Heat blasted through him at the vivid image of Cassie wearing the lacy lingerie and spread across his bed, that same almost-smile teasing at her lips.

“We’ll take one of each color,” he croaked toward the saleswoman.

“They’re not very practical,” she protested.

“Practical is the last thing you should be when you’re wearing fine lingerie.”

Expecting an argument, Caine was caught off-guard when she reached to gently stroke a finger over the shimmering fabric.

“I suppose they’ll be comfortable to sleep in.”

Sleep?

Caine’s fantasy abruptly altered to reality. Which meant Cassie sleeping like a baby in one bed while he tossed and turned in another.

Did he really need to add in a skimpy bit of silk to increase torture?

“For one of us,” he wryly admitted.

Predictably she didn’t have a clue why he was suddenly questioning his own sanity.

“What?”

He headed toward the discreet sales desk at the back of the store, pulling his wallet from his pocket.

“I’m an idiot.”

Please turn the page for
an exciting sneak peek of
MY LORD ETERNITY,
the next installment in Alexandra Ivy’s
Immortal Rogues series,
coming in December 2012!

Chapter 1

Although Miss Jocelyn Kingly had never before encountered the devil, she was fairly certain he was currently sitting in her front parlor.

It was not so much his appearance that made her think of the Lord of the Netherworld, she grudgingly conceded.

Indeed, he might have been a beloved angel with his long, tawny curls that framed a lean countenance and brushed his wide shoulders. His eyes were a pure, shimmering gold with long black lashes that would make any woman gnash her teeth in envy. His features were carved with a delicate male beauty.

But there was nothing angelic in the decided glint of wicked humor in those magnificent eyes and sensuous cut of those full lips.

And, of course, the indecent charm of those deep dimples.

She should have sent him on his way the moment he arrived upon her doorstep. Not even for a moment should she be considering the notion of allowing such a disturbing gentleman into her home.

She would have to be mad.

When she had first been struck with the notion of renting her attics, it had been with the prospect of discovering a quiet, comfortable tenant. Someone who would not disturb the peace of her household.

Unfortunately there were few such tenants who desired to live in a neighborhood that hovered on the edge of the stews. The local pickpockets and prostitutes did not possess the funds to pay the rent, even if she were to consider allowing them into her home. And the few gentlemen who possessed businesses in the area already owned their own property, usually far from St. Giles.

Which left Lucien Valin.

A shiver raced down her spine.

If only she were not in such desperate need of money.

If only it were not a full two months until her quarterly allowance.

If only ...

Her lips twitched with wry humor. She could devote the next fortnight to listing the “if-onlys” in her life. Now was not the time for such futile longings.

She better than anyone understood that the mistakes of the past could not be altered. One could only ensure that they were not repeated.

Unconsciously straightening her spine Jocelyn forced herself to meet that piercing golden gaze. It came as no surprise to discover her visitor’s lips were twitching as if he were amused by her obvious hesitation.

“So, Miss Kingly, was the newspaper in error?” he prodded in that husky, faintly accented voice. “Do you have rooms to let or not?”

The voice of a devil. Jocelyn sucked in a steadying breath. Devil or not, he was the only potential tenant who offered the cold, hard coin she so desperately needed.

There had to be something said for that. Unfortunately.

“There are rooms,” she agreed in cautious tones. “However, I feel it incumbent to warn you that they are located in the garret and are quite cramped. I am uncertain that a gentleman of your large proportions would find them at all comfortable.”

His slender, powerful hands moved to steeple beneath his chin, the golden eyes shimmering in the slanting morning sunlight.

“Do not fear, I am tall, but thankfully, quite intelligent. I need hit my head upon the rafters on only a handful of occasions to recall to duck.”

“There is also our unfortunate proximity to the slaughterhouses. The stench can be unbearable on some days.”

“I have discovered that there are few places in London that are not plagued with one unpleasant odor or another. Not even Mayfair is unaffected.”

Jocelyn maintained her calm demeanor with an effort. She never allowed herself to be ruffled. She had learned through painful experience that to lose control was a certain invitation to disaster.

“Unlike Mayfair, however, this neighborhood can be quite dangerous as well.”

His dimples suddenly flashed. “Surely, my dear, you do not suppose Mayfair to be without its dangers? Just imagine ... marriage-mad mamas, overdressed fops fragrant with the stench of rosewater, and a prince who insists upon keeping his chambers as smothering hot as the netherworld. It is enough to terrify the stoutest of hearts.” He lifted one broad shoulder. “I should be able to hold my own against a handful of thieves and street urchins.”

There was no reasonable argument to refute his confident words. Although he cloaked himself in a lazy charm, there was no mistaking the fluid power of his male form or the hint of ruthless will that was etched upon the lean features.

Only a fool would underestimate the danger of Mr. Lucien Valin. And Jocelyn was no fool.

“If you say,” she reluctantly conceded.

“Is there anything else?”

“There are my rules, of course,” she swiftly countered, not at all surprised when his lips curled in open amusement.

“Of course.”

“This is not a lodging house. I live very quietly. I will not countenance loud gatherings or drunken carousing.”

A tawny brow flicked upward. “I am allowed no callers?”

“Only if they are discreet.”

For some reason her cool response only deepened his amusement. “Ah.”

That unwelcome shiver once again inched down her spine, and Jocelyn discovered herself battling back the words to order this Mr. Valin from her house.

She did not have the luxury of turning away a perfectly suitable tenant just because of some vague fear.

“And the arrangement will be of a temporary nature,” she instead retorted in an effort to reassure her faltering nerve. “No longer than two months.”

“That suits me well enough.”

It appeared everything suited the devil.

Jocelyn narrowed her gaze. “I also must insist that you respect my privacy. You are welcome to eat in the kitchen with Meg, but the remainder of the house is not to be entered.”

There was a brief pause as he studied her carefully bland countenance. Then he gave a vague nod of his head.

“As you wish. Is that all?”

It was, of course.

She was charging him an outrageous sum of money for cramped rooms and meals he would be forced to eat in the servants’ quarters.

She had also made impossible rules that would annoy the most even-tempered of gentlemen.

The mere fact that he had so readily agreed made her even more suspicious.

“Why are you here?” she demanded in abrupt tones.

His hands lowered as he regarded her with a bemused smile.

“I beg your pardon?”

Jocelyn deliberately allowed her gaze to drop to the deep burgundy coat cut by an obvious expert and white waistcoat stitched with silver thread. Her gaze continued over the hard, muscular thrust of his legs to linger upon the glossy Hessians that cost more than many families could earn in a year.

At last she raised her head to discover him regarding her in a curious fashion. “It is obvious that you are a gentleman of means, Mr. Valin. Why would you desire to take inferior rooms in a neighborhood most consider fit only for cutthroats and whores?”

“Does it truly matter what my reason?” he demanded softly.

“I will not harbor a criminal.”

He gave a sudden chuckle. “I assure you that I am not hiding from the gallows.”

“Then, why?”

“Let us just say that there was a slight misunderstanding with my cousin.”

The explanation was a trifle too smooth for her liking.

“You had a slight misunderstanding with your cousin and now you desire to hide in St. Giles? You shall have to do better than that, Mr. Valin.”

The devilish glint in the golden eyes became even more pronounced. “Perhaps it was more than a slight misunderstanding. Gideon can unfortunately be tiresomely unreasonable when he chooses, and I believe there was some mention of a nasty duel. It seemed best to avoid him for the next several weeks. Just until his temper is recovered.”

“What is the nature of this misunderstanding?”

His features unexpectedly firmed to uncompromising lines. “That is a private matter.”

A woman, Jocelyn silently concluded, caught off guard by a traitorous prick of disappointment.

What else could she expect from such a gentleman? He was, after all, born to break the heart of susceptible women.

Then she was severely chastising herself for her unworthy thoughts.

She knew nothing of this gentleman. Certainly not enough to brand him as a womanizing letch. And in truth, even if he were, she was in no position to judge another.

“I respect your privacy, but you must understand that I have no desire to discover an angry gentleman upon my doorstep with his dueling pistol.”

The incorrigible humor swiftly returned to the bronze features. “He has no means of discovering I am here. Besides, Gideon would never harm a lady. He far prefers to charm them.” His smile became decidedly suggestive. “As do I.”

Jocelyn carefully laid her hands upon her tidy desk. This flirtatious banter was precisely what she had feared from Mr. Valin. It was important that she put a swift end to any hopes he might harbor of a casual seduction.

“That is all very well, but do not imagine for a moment, Mr. Valin, that I am remotely interested in any charms you might claim to possess.”

Far from wounded by her firm words, the gentleman stroked a slender finger down the length of his jaw.

“Surely you exaggerate, Miss Kingly? Not even remotely interested?”

“No.”

He heaved a teasing sigh. “A hard woman.”

“A sensible woman who has no time for foolish games,” she corrected him firmly. “You would do well to remember my warning.”

“Oh, I possess a most excellent memory,” he drawled, reaching beneath his jacket to remove a small leather bag that he placed upon the desk. “Indeed, I even remembered this.”

She eyed the bag warily. “What is it?”

“The two months’ rent in advance, just as you requested.”

Jocelyn made no effort to reach for the money. She knew the moment her fingers touched the coins she would be irrevocably committed to allowing this gentleman into her home.

And yet, what else could she do?

There was nothing particularly noble in bare cupboards and empty coal bins. And besides, she had Meg to consider.

Her old nurse was the only one to stand beside her when the scandal had broken. She was the only friend she had left in the world.

How could she possibly allow the older woman to suffer even further hardship?

The answer, of course, was she could not. This money would pay their most pressing creditors and put food on the table. At the moment that was all that mattered.

Grimly thrusting aside the warning voice that whispered in the back of her mind, Jocelyn gave a nod of her head.

“Thank you.”

As if thoroughly aware of her inner struggle, the devil lifted his brows in a faintly mocking manner.

“Do you not wish to count it?”

“That will not be necessary.”

“So trusting, my dove?”

“You will not be difficult to track down if I discover you have attempted to cheat me.”

“There is that,” he agreed with a chuckle. “When may I take possession of the rooms?”

Although not always meticulously devoted to truth if a small bit of subterfuge was more practical, Jocelyn discovered herself unable to form the lie that would allow her a few days’ grace from Mr. Valin’s presence.

Not that it truly mattered.

She would no doubt merely waste the days brooding upon what was to come. Surely this was like swallowing vile medicine. It was best to be done with quickly.

“The rooms have been cleaned and prepared,” she forced herself to admit. “You may have them whenever you desire.”

“Good. I will collect my belongings and be here later this afternoon.”

This afternoon.

She absolutely refused to shiver again.

“What of your cousin?” she demanded. “Will he not shoot you when you return for your belongings?”

“I have it on excellent authority that he devoted the goodly portion of the evening to his current mistress. It will be several hours before he awakens.”

She unconsciously grimaced. “I see.”

An odd hint of satisfaction touched the handsome countenance. “You disapprove of such pleasurable pastimes, Miss Kingly?”

Jocelyn was swift to smooth her features to calm indifference. “I do not possess sufficient interest to disapprove, Mr. Valin.”

His lips twisted wryly. “No, of course not.”

Having strained her nerves quite far enough for one morning, Jocelyn rose to her feet.

“I believe we have covered everything, Mr. Valin.”

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