Broken (3 page)

She didn't hide the parchment away yet, she had to let it dry first, and the only one that would be returning before midnight was Camille. The minute she thought of her sister, she appeared in the open doorway and stepped into the main room with a fox in her hand. "I brought you something," she whispered.

"Thank you," Genny said and took hold of the small creature.

She would have much preferred a human but it had been months since she'd fed from a human. When Camille finally became an adult vampire their plan was to travel to the continent. Years ago, before either of them were even born, Marie had fled France when she'd been discovered stealing from a man she'd been sleeping with at the time. Marie had barely escaped with her life and had refused to return to the continent since then.

Genny and Camille had agreed that the best place for them to escape Marie was France. There were vampire villages there, and they could integrate into one of them, but it would be safer for the both of them if they were able to sustain themselves on animal blood. Until they were safe somewhere she wasn't going to take any chance of being uncovered by humans. Marie would never follow them to France, or at least Genny didn't think she would, but she wasn't willing to take the chance that she might if she needed someone to take care of her. No matter what it took, Genny was going to do everything in her power to keep herself and Camille away from her mother's poisonous clutches.

Atticus slung the heavy wool cloak around his shoulders and pulled the hood over his head as he stepped out of the manor and into the rain. The sound of the rainfall echoed in his ears as the mud from the dirt lane splashed up to stain the bottom of his boots. He didn't hate the English weather as much as Merle but even he was getting tired of this incessant rain and the mud that accompanied it.

He made his way toward the stable and threw back the hood of his cloak to shake the rain from it. The stable was nearly empty except for the young vampire boy feeding the horses. "I'd like to have my horse saddled."

The boy's eyes shot past him to the driving rain beyond the stable doors. "Yes milord."

Atticus turned to watch the rain as it beat against the ground and splashed water out of the puddles forming. It was crazy of him to go out in this weather but he couldn't bring himself to stay inside the manor for one more minute. Mainly because he was tired of listening to his father and his noble cohorts fight over who would rule next. What was making it exceedingly difficult to decide was that none of them seemed to covet the position of king, not anymore.

Merle had slipped away an hour ago with a serving girl and as soon as Atticus had found his chance, he'd also disappeared from the main hall. The stable boy led his horse over to him and handed him the reins. "Your horse milord."

Atticus took the reins from him, placed his foot into the stirrup and swung himself into the saddle. He pulled the hood back over his head and nudged Drago into the rain. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't feel the cold drops of water against his skin as he led the animal down the road and into the woods. He had no idea where he was going, only that he had to get as far from his father and his politics as he could. His head had begun to pound as he'd listened to all of those men talk about who was the strongest, how much power they each had, and squabble about the possibility that they might have even a smidgen of that power taken away.

They're determination not to be the next king only increased his certainty that at least some, if not
all
of them, had gotten together to kill the last king. He wasn't entirely sure what the point of that would have been if none of them were vying for the throne now, but he had a feeling he'd find out over the next couple of weeks, hopefully not months. By then he'd be a prune if this rain continued and Merle might actually attempt to swim back to Italy if he was forced to keep his ship moored at the dock.

Merle already spent most of his nights on his ship, preferring to sleep on the vessel than at his father's manor. All he would need was the word to go and Merle would be throwing the lines off and sailing from here as quickly as possible. Atticus knew exactly how he felt, but he wasn't given the choice on where he could sleep. As his father liked to constantly remind him, even when there was a king on the throne, because of his pure bloodline Atticus was considered a prince amongst their kind, and princes didn't sleep on ships when they had newly built manors to reside in.

There were times he thoroughly enjoyed what his position in life offered him. He had plenty of money, lots of power and a bevy of women at his service. There were other times, like when his life choices were taken away from him, that he despised his social status and cursed his position. Being forced back to England and into the manor was one of those times.

He'd been so focused on his thoughts that he hadn't realized where he was until he entered the clearing where just yesterday he had met Genevieve and her sister. Pulling the hood back from his head, he wiped away the rain that had beaded across his brow and looked around the clearing. The trees glistened with water, the air held a misty quality to it as fog crept through the underbrush and stole across the ground like spirits drifting through a graveyard.

With the fog came the scent of mint and aster on the air. This wasn't where he had intended to come when he'd left the manor but something had drawn him here, or rather
someone.
He kicked his foot free of the stirrup and dismounted Drago as she stepped around the same large elm as yesterday. The hood of the deep red cloak she wore was pulled over her head but he could still make out her pale skin and the black hair that framed her face.

"Are you lost?" she inquired.

"Sometimes I think I am." Those weren't the words he'd meant to say, in fact he'd meant to laugh off her question, but now that the words were out of his mouth he realized just how true they actually were.

Her raven eyes flickered over his clothes as her forehead furrowed. He didn't know what he was expecting as a response, something terse and indifferent, maybe even no response at all, but when she spoke she didn't respond in either of those ways. "Sometimes we are all lost, at one point in time or another in our lives."

He found himself entranced by her peculiar insight. "I suppose we are. What happens if we are never found though?"

"Well." She stepped away from the tree and climbed gracefully down a couple of rocks so that she was level with him. "I like to believe that there's always something, or someone, that will help us find our way."

"And what happens if we don't recognize the help when we find that something or someone?"

"Then fate hits us over the head until it wakes us up."

He chuckled at her answer but he had to force himself to keep his hands down by his side as the urge to push the hood back from her face took hold of him. "And what happens if we find it but then lose it again?"

Her smile slid away as she frowned thoughtfully. "Well I suppose that would be a sad life then wouldn't it? To be forever lost."

"I suppose it would," he agreed, but lately he felt like he would be lost forever.

He didn't belong amongst the vampires, or at least not where his father thought he belonged. The idea of sitting in a room and arguing with a bunch of powerful, greedy old vampires made him consider running as far as he could, but he knew that would never be possible. If something were to happen to his father, he would have to step forward to take his place. Immortals weren't immortal, not when they were climbing over top of one another, killing kings, and stabbing each other in the back in order to gain more power.

As much as he didn't want to take his father's place, it was a fact that he had resigned himself to years ago. Rogue vampires were hunted as it was, if he were to ever try and shirk his duties by disappearing, he would be pursued relentlessly.

There were far more pleasant things to think about now though, he realized as she shifted before him. His gaze flickered past her but he didn't detect the aroma of roses amongst the trees. "Where is your sister?" he inquired.

Her shoulders went back, her jaw clenched as her hands folded before her. "She is not with me today, milord."

The use of the word milord and the terse tone of her voice surprised him. He didn't know what he had done to provoke her. He would have thought that perhaps she was jealous of her sister and his question had pricked that jealousy. That wasn't the impression he got from her though as she shifted her stance to a position that was more protective and her hands unfolded to fall before her.

"Where is she?" It probably would have been better to change the topic but he liked the fire in her eyes as she stood before him. Most were so afraid of him and his heritage that they didn't dare defy him or glare at him as if they were about to slap him, she was doing exactly that and he found her amusing.

"In the village. I'll give her your regards."

She went to step away from him but his hand shot out before he could stop it. His fingers touched together as they encircled her bicep. Through the thick material of the clothing she wore, he could feel the tightening of muscle beneath his touch. Her mouth parted, her eyes reminded him of those of a cornered deer when they flew up to his. She remained rigid in his grasp but she didn't try to pull away from him. Her gaze fell briefly to his lips before flying back up to meet his.

Her eyes on his mouth had caused his hand to clench involuntarily around her arm. He almost pulled her a step closer but he was concerned that she would bolt if he did. The aroma of asters became stronger as her gaze fell to his mouth again. He inhaled her sweet scent and instinctively leaned closer to her. Never in his life had he craved the feel of a woman's skin as badly as he craved hers right now, but still he kept a safe distance so he didn't frighten her with his intensity.

"What are you doing out here?" he inquired.

Her hand fluttered up to brush back her dampened hair. "I like to walk in the woods."

"I'll walk with you."

***

Genny didn't know how to respond to that. The idea of walking with him was entirely exciting and intriguing but she knew it could also be risky. It had been awhile since she'd had anything to do with the aristocratic vampires; Marie had once dated a servant employed by a nobleman and they'd stayed in the manor for a month before the relationship had fallen apart. She had barely interacted with the lord and lady of the manor but what she remembered of them was that they were condescending, egotistical, and sometimes cruel. She'd encountered a few nobles that had seemed decent but they'd been few and far between.

She wanted to believe that he was kind; especially when he was staring at her with those beautiful eyes that were so piercing she found she couldn't look away from them. His shoulder length black hair hung in damp tendrils around his broad cheekbones. He was exceedingly handsome with his stubble-roughened square jaw, thin-bridged nose, full mouth, and carved cheekbones.

But handsome didn't equal kind, that was a lesson she'd learned often over the years. Marie had been one of the most beautiful women Genny had ever seen, but there was no soul beneath her mother's faultless exterior. She supposed, to many, Marie would still be considered beautiful but Genny now found her to be the ugliest woman she'd ever encountered.

Genny's gaze darted around the woods as she realized that she was alone with him. Seeming to sense her thoughts he released her arm and took a small step back. "I mean you no harm; I would simply like to walk with you."

His strange accent caused a little thrill to go through her. From what she could tell it was a mixture of Italian, English, Spanish, French and some others that she couldn't recognize. She thought it would have been an odd combination to have, but she found his voice as exotic and enthralling as he was.

"Why?" she managed to ask when she found her voice.

It was a smile that would disarm almost anyone she was sure, but she wasn't so easily fooled. He seemed to realize this as he took another step away from her and held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I'll leave if you would like me to."

She thought over those words as the first bird began to sing again. The water dripping off of the leaves and landing on the mossy rocks around them sounded exceedingly loud as he awaited her decision. She pondered what he would do if she did ask him to leave but those were not the words forming on the tip of her tongue.

They weren't human, they didn't abide by the silly human rules that a woman alone with a man was considered ruined or that she was a prostitute. Sexuality amongst vampires was often used to climb the social ladder. Marie had used it to the fullest of her ability over the years and continued to do so now, although with much less success these days. Genny knew she wouldn't be ruined by taking a walk with him but he was stronger than her, she could sense that in the aura of power that seemed to radiate from him, an aura that even a human would be able to detect. He also wasn't used to hearing the word no, no aristocrat was.

She should keep her distance from him, given his status in their world. But what harm could a simple walk in the woods do? If he'd wanted to hurt her, he would have done so already.

"Genevieve," he said in a low voice. "I truly just mean to walk with you. I'm in no rush to return to my manor."

"Why?"

He shrugged as he took another step away from her and pushed back the straggling strands of his wet hair. "The intricacies of politics makes my head pound."

A small laugh escaped her; she took a step closer to him as she put her foot on a rock that had no moss on top of it, one that she had used as her steppingstone often since coming to live with Felix. Not only did she and Camille use these woods to hunt for animals, but they were also a shortcut to the human village two miles away.

"I can understand that. Have they elected a new king?" she inquired.

"Not yet."

"I don't know why anyone would take that position," she muttered as she lifted her tunic.

The wet bottom of it made the material even heavier and more cumbersome than normal. She despised the silly human custom of covering themselves from head to toe like some kind of sacred relic that no one should ever lay eyes on. However, if she was going to continue to blend in amongst the humans, then she had to wear the clothes. Often, when it was just her in these woods, she would strip down to her thin chemise in order to experience the cool air caressing her skin.

"Neither do I," he said.

Genny tilted her head back to look up at him. "You're not in the running?"

"My father is still alive."

"Would you be in the running if he wasn't?"