Heartbitten (A New Adult Vampire Romance Novel)

Heartbitten

A New Adult Vampire Romance Novel
by

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***

Copyright © 201
4 Aubrey Rose

All rights reserved.

First Kindle Edition: March 2013

ISBN:
149613978X

ISBN-13:
978-1496139788

To my fans

Prologue

"This was when she asked him whether it was true that love conquered all, as the songs said. 'It is true', he replied, 'but you would do well not to believe it.
'"

― Gabriel Garcí
a Márquez, Of Love and Other Demons

***

England, 1642

Robert Chatham would always remember his first kiss. It was on that same day that the vampires took him.

***

Robb squirmed in his chair. The sun would set soon, but there were still two courses to go before dinner was over and he could run free. His parents ate silently, the silver forks glinting in the candlelight.

A servant clad in black and gold set a steaming bowl of stewed beef in front of him and began to pour wine into his glass.

"That's enough for the boy," his mother said. It was the first thing she'd said all dinner. The servant wiped the mouth of the wine bottle and darted a fearful glance up at the queen.

"May I leave early?" Robb said. At thirteen, he resented being called a boy. Other thirteen-year-old princes ruled empires, after all. The French king was younger than he was, and had been ruling for years already, or so he'd heard. "I'm full."

"You know you oughtn't steal sweets from the kitchen," his mother said. "You ruin your meals."

"I didn't," Robb protested. "I only want to go to the wall and watch the sun go down in the woods."

"The woods, the woods!" His mother put down her wine glass; the purple liquid sloshed up and over the rim, staining the white tablecloth. A servant came over hurriedly to wipe the spill with a cloth. "Robb, you have your studies to finish."

"But I finished!"

"Don't talk that way to your mother," his father said indifferently.

"All the other boys get to go out and watch for the black ghosts," Robb said, slumping in his chair.

"There are no
ghosts
," his mother said derisively. Her cheeks were flushed.

"The black ghosts are just an old wives' tale," his father said. "You know that, don't you, boy?"

"Eliza said—"

"I don't want you hanging around those urchins!" His mother gulped wine and snapped her finger, and a servant ran over to refill her glass. Robb wished he wouldn't. He had recently begun to notice that she argued more when she drank wine. "Especially not that gypsy girl."

"She's not a gypsy," Robb muttered sullenly. "And there
are
black ghosts."

"Look at what you've done," his mother said, her eyes flitting over to the end of the table where his father sat. "You shouldn't let him run around the city like he does."

"Oh, this is my fault?"

"Who was it but your mother told him so many ghost stories when she came to visit?"

"Leave my mother out of this," the king growled.

"I'll leave her out when she leaves the palace. At any rate—"

"May I go?" Robb asked. "I finished my beef."

"Go!" his mother said, whipping her head back to him. Her eyes flashed darkly and Robb knew that tonight he would hear his parents fighting in the room down the hall from him.

Before she could change her mind, he had pulled the napkin from his neck and tossed it on the table, slipping out of the room with a quick step.

He took the stairs three at a time down to the kitchen, tearing off his royal vest and throwing it onto the kitchen counter as he came in. The kitchen help was busy around the stove, making the dessert. Robb peeked over the table to see what it was. Fig and honey tarts.

"Why hello there, my little prince!" The cook's voice boomed in Robb's ear, and he picked up the basket of tarts, resting them on his sizable belly. "Here for another sweet?"

"Just one, cook," Robb said, his tone wheedling. "My parents said I could leave early."

"Off to watch for black ghosts?"

Robb looked for sarcasm in his eyes but saw none. The cook wrapped up two tarts into a cloth, their crusts glazed with honey, and handed the package to Robb.

"One for you and one for your girl," the cook said, winking. Robb flushed hard and took the tarts.

Guards marched along their sentry routes in the palace, but Robb knew all of the sentry
posts by heart. Darting out of the palace kitchen, he looked left to right before crossing the narrow walkway and slipping through a crack in the palace wall, out into the main city.

The setting sun cast red wisps of light over the
buildings, and the city was just coming to life. Tavern owners shook their rugs outside the doors, the smell of barley and ale wafting out of the entryways. The scents of the city were far different from those of the palace. Here, the sweet fragrances of bakeries and beer mingled with the pungent aroma of dung and wastewater and the mobs of unwashed peasants. Robb ran quickly through the crowded streets, avoiding the hoofs of the horses and goats whose owners led them through the stream of people.

Robb could see the high city walls looming up ahead, but he stopped just before the main gate, letting his eyes wander over to the market vendors who were just not taking down their stalls. Eliza might be in there with her father; she sometimes waited for him to watch the sunset. The nearest vendor was packing up his cart full of silver and gold chains. Robb walked over and examined a gold necklace that was lying on a blanket of wares. The stone was beautiful—a dark green amethyst that sparkled from a hundred cut facets, and there was a twist of red that ran through the middle, probably a deposit of iron in the rock. An imperfection, sure, but an imperfection that glowed and made the stone strangely attractive.

"Hey! Put 'at down!"

The market vendor came over to Robb, his brow furrowed.

"Boy, leave 'em jewels alone. You cain't be affording to break something so valuable as 'at."

Robb set the necklace back down on the table, and the vendor stepped in front to bar him from even looking at the wares. Feeling slighted and irritable, Robb pulled out a bag of coins from under his shirtsleeve and untied the string. Three, four gold coins clinked into his hand, and he looked up to see the market vendor watching his hand hungrily.

"How much?" Robb asked.

"My apologies, young master," the vendor said, his hand shaking as he clutched his hat to his chest. "I didn't see that you was a noble."

"How much?"

"Well, such a beautiful gem is quite rare, you see," the vendor said, a greedy look on his face. "It would have to be five guineas at least."

"Five!" Robb slid the coins back into his purse. Five guineas?

"I wouldn't even turn a profit on 'at," the vendor said, wheedling. "It's the best deal you'll find."

"Two guineas and I'll take it," Robb said, enjoying the barter. "The stone is flawed."

"Not one bit!" The vendor turned back to the table to
prove his claim, but the necklace was gone.

"Wha'?" the vendor said. He whirled around. "You thieved me! How'd you take it?"

"Excuse me?" Robb said. Immediately the market vendor retreated into apologies.

"I don't mean—you're nobility, of course, but—how did I lose the dang thing—" The vendor turned in circles, looking around on the ground for the missing necklace.

A whistle from above caught Robb's ear, and he looked up to see Eliza perched on the building ledge just behind the market stall, the necklace dangling from her hand. Robb's eyes went wide. She winked and darted away, lissome, across the ledge behind all of the awnings, down the market street. Her feet padded silently above the crowd of people, her thick black hair streaming out behind her. Robb followed her, catching glimpses of her above the crowd of people. At the end of the market she jumped off of the last stall to a ledge on the city wall and slid down a gutter to the street. Her feet were bare and black with soot.

"You weren't going to pay him two guineas for this, were you?" she said, grinning mischievously as the necklace swung from her fingers. Her green eyes sparkled, and Robb tried not to stare at them. "You know it's not real gold, and the stone's just dyed quartz. It's worth a handful of shillings, maybe."

"It looks pretty, anyway," Robb said, ashamed both of not knowing the truth and of being willing to spend so much on a cheap bauble.

"Hey! You! You there!"

The market vendor had followed him down the street. Before Robb could react, Eliza had grabbed his hand and pulled him through a gap in the crowd.

"Run!" she cried.

Robb could barely keep up with her, but Eliza knew every inch of the city and soon pulled him into a narrow alleyway off of the main road, just next to a fish shop. The market vendor's shouts echoed through the street behind them. He followed her down past piles of discarded fish heads, pinching his nose to stop himself from gagging. Just when he thought they had reached a dead end, she slid her fingers into a large crack in the stone and pulled. The stone shifted, and Robb could see the forest beyond.

"Come on!" Eliza whispered. She bent down and slipped through the narrow opening. Robb hesitated for only a second before slipping through after her and pulling the stone back to cover their path.

"It's alright," Eliza said. "That fat donkey wouldn't fit anyway."

Robb noticed the silence before anything else. The city
noise had disappeared behind the huge stone walls, and there was nobody outside except for them. The only noise was his breathing and a few birdcalls from deep inside the forest.

The edge of the forest was a sharp line of black pine trees. The trees stretched down as far as Robb could see, following the high city walls until they bent out of sight. Both the walls and the pines were so tall that their tops were lost in the fog, and the setting sun set fire to the thick mist, turning it a fiery red-orange in the sky.

"The sun's almost down," Robb said. His voice was quiet, nearly a whisper, but in the silence his voice sounded too loud.

"Don't tell me you're scared," Eliza said. "We can go watch for the ghosts at the front of the castle now!"

"I'm not scared," Robb said bravely. He was, of course. He'd seen the black shadows moving in the woods, and now, standing outside of the protection of the city walls, he couldn't help but feel vulnerable. When he'd watched from the ledge, he thought that the shadows were animals of some sort, probably harmless. In his mind now, though, they seemed anything but harmless, even if they
were
animals. The stone walls behind him pressed him forward, and the edge of the forest was close enough that if a predator ran at them, they wouldn't have time to get back inside before—

"Good," Eliza said. "Here, here's your necklace."

"It's—ah, it's for you," Robb said. Eliza's eyes caught his, and his mouth went cottony. He held out the package of tarts. "These, too. Sorry if they got smushed back there when we were running."

"They don't look smushed." Eliza bent her head over the tarts, inhaling deeply.

That was the other thing that was different—the smell. Inside the city was a jumble of scents, but here there was only the clean dark smell of the pine trees, and now the fig tarts. It smelled wonderful, and Robb was buoyed by the fresh air.

"Alright, we can watch from the front," he said decisively. Eliza had tucked the tarts under her arm and was trying to put the necklace on.

"Here, let me help," Robb said. His fingers felt thick and awkward as he fumbled with the tiny gold clasp. A dark strand of Eliza's hair fell onto her neck and he brushed it away carefully before fastening the clip, the touch of her skin sending thrills through his body. The sun was falling quickly behind the trees, and the air around them grew chilly.

"Come on," Eliza said, letting her hair fall down her back over the necklace chain. She strode toward the forest edge. Robb followed, not wanting her to think him a coward. The fading sunlight shone eerily through the
mist in the trees, and he wished that they had stayed inside the city walls and watched from the top ledge with the other children. He glanced back at the stone walls.

"Hurry," Eliza said. "It's almost sunset."

She plunged into the dark forest, and Robb traipsed after her. Just beyond the forest edge, a stream bubbled through rocks in a chasm that was deeper than it was wide; the water had etched a deep groove into the forest floor over the years. It was like a half of a moat that flowed next to the castle; they’d often played there.

They followed the stream down to where a log had fallen across the rocks. Eliza walked quickly across the wide log, and Robb matched her steps, his arms stretched out to balance himself. He looked down at the stream below his feet. He was high enough to be injured severely if he fell, if not killed outright. His knees trembled and he walked the few remaining steps quickly, holding his breath.

"This is our moat," Eliza said decisively. "We'll watch for the ghosts from
there
."

Robb looked to where she was pointing. A black pine stood next to them on this side of the stream, its roots bursting through the rock underneath.

"Maybe we should go back inside the city," Robb said, nervous now that the sun was almost gone. "It'll be dark when we have to leave."