Authors: Multiple
"What do
you mean?" Lady Ariel asked with a shrill voice and her eyes darting over
everyone. "I've been inside looking for you! What has happened to Lady
Beth? Did that man attack her? I
know
him …"
Beth made a
strangled sound into his shoulder as he gaped at Lady Ariel who backed away
from them, while he tried to place what she was saying. He turned back to look
at the Blacknall brothers, maybe for answers, as he questioned whether he'd
seen the bloody remains of a woman out in the night woods.
They were
gone
.
Christian no
longer stood beside him. "How could they do that?" Adam demanded into
the night air, turning again in a complete circle as he held Beth tightly to
his chest. How could they leave his side without a sound? Then, his gaze
settled upon Lady Ariel who was running away, back toward the mansion.
"Damnation,"
he cussed, suddenly realizing the new implications if Lady Ariel reached the
mansion and blurted her story to anyone. "Beth, it's all right, all
right," he soothed, trying to comfort her as he rushed after Lady Ariel,
whom he shouted to as loudly as he thought he could get away with.
"Lady
Ariel! Stop!" That didn't work, so he tried, "Beth needs you!"
Chapter Seven
Trinity held his
left arm out from his side as virgin's blood dripped from the cuff of his
shirt. He needed to feed and feed quickly before his hard-fought control
snapped and he did something he would regret for eternity
"Baptiste
has brought down a buck. It still lives," Church called to him from deeper
in the woods. "Come, feed, Trinity. We will all feed and regain our
purpose."
Trinity sprinted
toward redemption … this time, and as he ran, he tore his shirt off, throwing
it aside. There was still blood on his hand and when he came across a small
stream, he stopped to wash it off. Crouching, he looked at the blood drying on
his hand and fingers, wondering how they'd all lived this long and not known
virgin's blood held such diabolical and monumental cravings for them.
Forcibly, he
sunk his hand into the water, when all he wanted to do was lick the blood from
his fingers. He growled, shaking his entire body, and then he used his other
hand to wash and rub the blood away from his chest, arm, and hand. He felt
Church's presence and he looked up to see his brother standing across the small
stream. Church's face looked relaxed and his fangs were receded. Church had
fed.
"Come,
little brother, it's not far." Church inclined his head and Trinity rose
from his crouch, stepping across the stream to stop beside his older brother.
Church's hand clamped his shoulder. "Well done, brother, you saved that
woman."
Trinity wondered
if that were true why he felt as though he'd marked or scarred the young woman
for life. He ignored Church's praise and he sprinted toward the blood he voraciously
needed. Normally, he didn't take animal blood as Baptiste, and especially
Christian, did. Animal blood did sustain, yet wasn't satisfying. Of course,
Christian couldn't find it within his faith to drink from newly dead corpses,
Trinity's preferred food. Christian never denounced him for it or the
freshly-leeched blood he drank that their ally, Doctor Latham or others of his
like, gifted them with.
Trinity reached
the buck just as the last of its noble life left it and he knelt beside it
offering a silent prayer for its sacrifice, which he was certain all his
brothers might be surprised he did. He began to feed with a need harsher than
he'd felt in a long time as he heard his brothers’ intense conversation above
him.
"I've not
come so close to losing my control in so long I'd forgotten what it felt like.
Forgot the overpowering demand," Christian admitted, with his voice
sounding confused.
"I felt it
once in the last year," Baptiste said, surprising them all. "I think
she was on a monthly and I strayed too close."
"That's
never been a problem before." Church's voice was on edge. "Why didn't
you say something, Baptiste?"
"Damnation,
Church, you know we never speak about women or sexual relations together. All
we do is argue about it or don't know how to handle it." Baptiste glared
at Church.
"You should
tell us everything, especially something this important."
Baptiste ignored
Church's rise of temper, saying, "I've thought about it ever since it
happened and really the only conclusion I could come to was we're reaching our
prime as men beneath this damned vampire’s curse."
Trinity wiped
his mouth with the back of his hand, straightening his torso. "And men in
their prime, physically, seek virginity, health, and youth above all else to
spread their seed." He practically snarled out the words as the trueness
of it sank into his soul.
"So an
innocent young virgin, freshly bleeding, shouted to our darker natures,"
Christian said, then he added, "Then the murdered one was surely not a
virgin."
Trinity could feel
his bloodlust retreating with his blood intake and feelings of fullness slowly
seeped through his body. His maddening hunger was abating. As he stood to form
a circle with his brothers under the full moon now escaped from the clinging
fog, he still felt edgy with thoughts of a maiden named Beth.
"What we
need to know," Church said as he leveled a glare at each of them in turn,
"is why none of us could track the murderer's movements or blood?"
"But
Trinity, was—" Baptiste began.
"I followed
the woman," Trinity injected. He felt the rise of his brothers' curiosity
over this. However, he was in no mood to discuss what he couldn't understand.
Whether Church
understood his complicated feelings or not, Church passed the question by,
moving on. "We cannot scent every vampire." Church shrugged his broad
shoulders in the twilight. "None of us knew when our stepfather, Nikkos,
was around."
"Some of
those women he forced us to bring to him …" Christian's yellow-rimmed blue
eyes looked as haunted as they all felt.
"Had to be
virgins." Trinity arched his neck with a growling voice.
"That adds
another line of proof to my theory." Baptiste remained the clear,
scientific head among them. "They didn't overly tempt us, then."
Trinity slowly
looked along the dense tree line. "So we have a murderer that could be a
vampire or not."
"But this
monster tears apart its victims like an animal." Church punched his fist
into his palm.
"Some could
easily accuse us of being animals." Trinity sneered.
"You're
cynical to think such a thing." Baptiste grasped his shoulder. "We've
all conquered our baser inclinations."
Trinity didn't
stop his leering cynicism as strange intuitions began to claw through him.
Really, they'd never left his concern. He turned his gaze to the west.
Why
could he feel this one lone woman and her fears?
Unable to ignore his
concern, he suddenly started forward, becoming a blur with vampire’s speed.
"I
must
go."
"Brother!"
Church yelled with a voice that wanted him to stop,
Trinity kept
going, and then Christian was beside him. "Don't try to stop me,"
Trinity warned.
"Nay,
brother." Christian laughed. "Just take my jacket, will you?"
Christian tossed
the jacket toward him, and Trinity caught it. "Thank you."
His direction
was his horse and he heard Christian speaking loudly to him, "When you see
to the lady's welfare, see that the brother fairs well too."
Trinity raised a
hand aloft as he ran, in acknowledgment of Christian's request. At least one
brother didn't find his sudden urges strange and unfathomable.
***
Beth felt pain
stabbing across her back, and she didn't understand how she'd not felt it in
the woods before. Vicious eyes like the inky, black depths of a lightless pool
flashed through her mind and she gasped, remembering the pain of the slashing
cut. But after …
After that, she
only remembered the dark and mystifying Lord Trinity. She shuddered against
Adam as he carried her and he chased after … Beth tried to make her mind focus,
but it was so hard and she desperately wanted to go to sleep. She wanted to
hide from everything that was so horrible. If only the pain would let her
sleep.
"Beth!"
Adam looked down at Beth jostling in his arms. She'd gone limp and he could see
her eyes were closed. He knew enough from classes he'd taken at the university
to know she was still in physical danger. She was so cold, combined with
shaking, and the presence of some wound he'd heard Lord Trinity speak of that
could put Beth into shock’s clutches.
"Damnation!"
Adam shouted. "If this is how you treat your friends in need, I'd not want
your friendship. My god, Lady Ariel, she's passed out and needs our help
desperately!"
Adam gasped a
labored breath of relief when he saw Lady Ariel finally stop running away.
She'd nearly made it to the steps at the back of the mansion before she turned
back.
"Thank
god," he heaved, slowing his pace slightly to intercept Lady Ariel as she
hurried back to them. He could see Lady Ariel was shuddering in the cold night
air in her inadequate ball gown and her once perfectly-styled blond hair had
fallen about her bare shoulders.
"Beth!"
Lady Ariel exclaimed with her small hand reaching up to touch Beth's cheek.
There were tears in Lady Ariel's eyes. "She has to be all right." She
looked up at him beseechingly.
"She will
be," he reassured her, when for some odd reason he'd been so angry at her
moments before. "We need our carriage. She needs a blanket and
warmth," he stated, starting forward again, and then he asked, "Were
you with Lord Fanton? Is he still here? Gads, I hope he's not taken the carriage."
"He wanted
me to play some silly game out in the gardens and it was so dark," Lady
Ariel said out of breath beside him, trying to keep up. "I-I," she
stuttered, and then she seemed to force herself to blurt, "I left him
…" Her voice trailed off.
Adam came around
the side of the mansion and he saw the line of resting carriages. Good god, he
thought, how hard would it be to identify theirs? "A game?" he asked,
distracted, as he looked at the line of dark carriages, trying without luck to
pick out any defining characteristics. There had to be well over thirty.
"A courting
game," she answered breathlessly, stopping beside where he'd stopped. Her
words jerked his attention back. It was too dark to tell, but he was certain
Lady Ariel blushed. She hurried on, saying, "But for the longest time I
couldn't find you or Beth. I search the entire ball, but then a servant boy
said you'd gone to the gardens … S-So I braved them again … for Beth."
Lady Ariel patted Beth's shoulder. "Has he hurt her terribly?" she
asked in an agonized murmur.
Adam had turned
his eyes back toward the carriages again, distracted at Lady Ariel's long
explanation. He saw a carriage pulling out of line and a footman jumping off
the back to come towards them. What miracle was this?
"He might have
tried to kill her out there in those woods," Adam muttered, glancing down
at Beth limp in his arms. He really had no idea of the impact of his words.
"I think this is our carriage footman. Come on."
He heard the
swishing of Lady Ariel's skirts beside him as he once again hurried forward to
meet the footman. His one thought was to get Beth safe, warm, and home in bed.
Perhaps then, Lady Ariel could check Beth for any wounds. The murdered woman in
the woods bothered him greatly. He had to tell the authorities, but Beth's
welfare was more important at the moment.
"The
gentleman said to bring the carriage up fer you, my lord," the footman
announced upon reaching them. Adam didn't halt, and the footman turned to walk
with them.
"Gentleman?"
Adam questioned.
"Aye, I
didn't catch his name, sir. He was tall with blonde hair and a goatee. Not
dressed for the party though."
Christian
Blacknall.
Adam's gaze scanned the area, but somehow he knew he wouldn't
see the handsome Mr. Blacknall about.
"I hope we
done right," the footman stammered.
"Yes-yes,"
Adam answered. "Hurry ahead and open the door. Get out as many lap
blankets as you have."
Adam reached the
carriage and he didn't stop, but he carried Beth up into it, laying her on the
seat. "Lady Ariel, we need to make her warm, but can you check for a wound
first?"
"Adam?"
Lady Ariel questioned, crouched up inside the carriage beside him.
He was trying to
untangle the cloak from around Beth's limp body, as he said, "It would be
more proper if you do this …"
Lady Ariel made
a strangled sound beside him, and then she cried, "Her clothes! Oh lord in
heaven. She's not got all her clothes on!"
Adam turned his
gaze toward Lady Ariel's shrieking, seeing her backing out of the carriage.
"Wait! You cannot go," he insisted with anger shaking his words.
"I can't! I
can't!" Lady Ariel cried. "I'm so sorry!" She whirled around to
flee away toward the mansion.
"Damnation,"
Adam cursed, folding the cloak back over Beth. He grasped two lap blankets to
cover her as he lifted her up and held her in his arms. Her head fell against
his chest and he stroked the tangled strands of her long hair.
"Driver! On
to the Westfield mansion as quickly as possible," he ordered with a shout.
Chapter Eight
Adam knew things
were dire. Life-changing events had occurred that night. Yet he could only be
grateful Beth was alive as he remembered the bloody remains he'd seen in the
woods.
"Beth, oh,
Beth."
His heart wound
around the words as he grasped her tighter against the sway of the carriage. He
worried that she didn't wake and still felt so cold. He wondered what he needed
to do first when he reached his step uncle's mansion. Then they were pulling up
front and he saw another carriage was there as he thought sourly of Fanton. He
simply knew Fanton had something to do with the terrible events that had
transpired.
"If I find
out you did," Adam hissed. "I will beat you unconscious,
Fanton."
The carriage
halted and he was readying to order the driver to fetch a doctor, when a
gentleman he'd never seen before opened the carriage door.
"I'm Dr.
Latham, Lord Winslow. I was sent by Blacknall," the thin, elderly
gentleman stated briskly. "I understand the lady requires attention?"
Adam was
surprised … a bit startled, if the truth be known. "Yes," he rushed
to answer the doctor as the man finished opening the door.
The doctor
leaned in with a lantern held high. He clasped his palm over Beth's forehead.
"No fever." He squinted through his spectacles. "That's good. We
need to bring her inside."
"She won't
wake up." Adam knew his anxiety showed.
"A bit of
shock, I'm sure. She will be all right," Doctor Latham said.
"You know
what happened?" Adam asked as he followed the doctor's urging hand to
carry Beth down out of the carriage.
"Blacknall
explained the events pertinent to this young lady's care," Doctor Latham
supplied, evenly.
"Which
one?" Adam asked as they reached the opened front entryway into the
mansion. "Which Blacknall sent you?"
"Lord
Trinity, Marquis Montrose," Doctor Latham answered with brisk efficiency.
"I've taken the liberty and had my servant set a fire in a small bed
chamber we found down the west hall. It looked unoccupied, and I didn't want to
waste time trying to discover the lady's proper bed chamber." Adam looked
blankly at this as he followed the man. Doctor Latham added, "No one
seemed about when we took the liberties."
Adam knew no one
would be about. His elderly step uncle and his one indoor servant, Spindle,
would be well-bedded and snoring. The cook and her husband, the outdoor man,
lived in a cottage set at the very back of the large property. That left
Fanton, who'd hired the carriage and footman for the evening, otherwise they'd
not had one. Beth would have used Lady Ariel's if Fanton hadn't interfered.
If I get my
hands on Fanton
, Adam thought, just as Doctor Latham opened the door to the
small bedchamber alight with a warm fire. A middle-aged woman in a dark,
serviceable dress with a long white apron stood beside the bed. She had its
comforter and blankets folded back and waiting. Adam felt his knees wobble with
relief at finding better-qualified people to help his sister.
"Come, lay
her down, Lord Winslow," Doctor Latham said.
As Adam laid
Beth down, she made a whimpering sound and he nearly did fall to his knees with
relief. Her unconsciousness had scared him. "Beth," he murmured
brushing his lips to her temple.
"If you
don't mind waiting outside, my lord," Doctor Latham said.
"Of
course." Adam straightened, scraping a hand through his hair. "Please
keep me advised." As he turned to leave, he saw the doctor's medical tools
lying on a side table with a porcelain bowl of steaming water, and he
appreciated the fact that they seemed to be proficient.
Once the door
clicked shut behind Lord Winslow, Trinity stepped out of the shadows from the
corner of the room. The scant shadows in the corner wouldn't have been enough
for a normal man to go undetected in.
"You'll not
want to stay. There's fresh blood," Doctor Latham advised him without
turning from his task of unwrapping the cloak from around Lady Beth Winslow.
"I can
withstand my baser inclinations," Trinity muttered, and Doctor Latham
glanced at him with one raised eyebrow. "With her," Trinity finished
lowly.
If he'd not
gotten a fair look at Lady Beth before, he did now. She had black hair so dark
it appeared as flowing ink against her ivory flesh. Her face was riveting to
him with a slender nose, pretty lips, and a cup-shaped chin. Even the intensity
of his interest to look at her face was certainly overcome by the tug of his
brazen gaze to her large bare breasts and the thatch of ebony hair between her
pale shapely thighs. She had on what he could only imagine women called a
half-corset with black lace and ruffles setting off her firm breasts and
framing her soft sex.
Doctor Latham
and his matronly helper lifted the lady onto her side and he saw the ragged
claw mark slashed across her back. Blood oozed from the wound and his body
tensed further than it had at the sight of her naked body by firelight, until
he assured himself he
was
stronger than the urge for her blood. His
tongue scoured over one of his fangs as he wondered if he was stronger than the
lust that cackled at him while looking at her.
"It's deep
enough for stitches," Doctor Latham said. "Yet I'd not want to give
her laudanum for the pain as I believe she's in shock."
Trinity's gaze
rose in agitation.
He didn't want her hurt.
He stepped back a pace. He
was staggered by the blast of emotions. Bloody hell, where had it come from?
More shockingly, Lady Beth whimpered the intimacy of his first name. His gaze
spun to her red lips as if he could see her still forming his name in her
delirium.
"Is she
awake?" he asked with a harsh growl in his voice.
Doctor Latham
lifted a needle to the candlelight with thicker thread looped through it. "No,
but she will be as soon as we set the first stitch."
"I will
hold her." Trinity wondered at his eagerness and his sanity.
Doctor Latham
straightened, giving him a dubious scowl, while shaking his head, but he said
nothing. Latham knew better than to question him. Trinity was more than capable
of questioning himself over his motives. Why he was there in the first place?
Because his little virgin was hurt.
He nearly
shouted a curse, digging his hand through his long dark blond hair. He'd not
have her tied to the bed and that was the only other way. Tied, she'd still
move and tear the flesh at her wrists and ankles. It was possible he had a way
to calm her if it became necessary.
It was an
extreme idea. Although with Beth … and he caressed the intimacy of her given
name in his mind, it might not work as some of his vampire ways seemed not to
affect her like other humans. It would take more willpower than he'd used thus
far trying it, and if his “trying” didn't work she could be in deeper trouble.
Yet, Baptiste's experiments with vampire traits and human reactions had shown
the anomaly.
He pushed the
thoughts aside. He would decide if the time came. He reached to button the
jacket Christian had given him. He didn't need his bare flesh pressed to her
bare flesh, he thought, watching the woman helper remove Beth's half-corset.
Beth's long, dark eyelashes fluttered, but she remained with her eyes closed
and he wondered what color her eyes were as his gaze trailed down the full
curves of her nude body.
He wanted to be
on top of her, spread over the soft curves of her body, and he wondered if it
had the most to do with sensing and smelling the heady vapors of her virgin's
blood. Is that what made him hunger to thrust his hard shaft deep inside her
and hope she would clamp her legs high on his back, while crying his name with
hot tempests of passion.
He hissed
through his fangs, trying to shake the vivid image taunting him, and he said
curtly to Latham, "Warn her brother about her screams."
Ten minutes
later, everything was ready and Trinity climbed onto the bed. There was no
graceful way to accomplish holding Beth down to receive the stitches that her
frail human body needed. Nevertheless, he was strong — inhumanly strong.
They turned Beth
onto her stomach. Doctor Latham's servant sat on Beth's legs, while Trinity
took Beth's wrists above her head, holding them immobile with one hand. Beth's
long hair was twisted and tied on top of her head and he pressed his other hand
onto her shoulders and the back of her neck.
Beth awoke
screaming, feeling the pain of an animal slashing her back again. Only she
couldn't run away this time.
She couldn't move.
"Maiden, be
strong." Lord Trinity's voice urged her, and the strong, growling sound of
it caught her attention. She wailed as another stab of pain lanced across her
back.
"Trinity,
help me!" she cried, trying desperately to thrash her body away from the
pain. Yet, she was unable to move more than a few inches.
"
Keep
her still," a voice ordered sharply.
"Beth, you
must stay still." Trinity's voice rumbled close to her ear.
With her face
turned to the side, she unclenched her eyes seeing one of Trinity's
yellow-stamped eyes gazing close to hers. The pain stabbed again and she
flinched with more tears pooling, as he uttered, "Breathe through it,
maiden."
What were
they doing to her
? she wondered, and desperation had her gasping a hard
breath.
"Stitching
closed the animal's claw mark across your back," Trinity's voice sounded
next to her ear.
She was startled
that he answered her unvoiced question, but then the pain bit into her back
again and she mewled bitterly against it.
No, no, no
, she screamed in
her mind as she struggled and begged with whimpers to escape the pain.
"Hellfire,"
Trinity cursed with a snarl, then she heard him harshly order, "Hold, Dr.
Latham."
"But, I'm
halfway through," the doctor's voice sounded with tension.
All Beth heard
through the staggering pain was, "
Halfway
through." She
panicked, losing any courage she possessed. She wrenched her wrists against the
unyielding hand holding them as she jerked her hips trying to throw the weight
off, holding her down.
Trinity realized
he could have the strength of ten men, but he would easily break Beth's fragile
flesh and bones if he used it.
"
I'll
give her my blood," he hissed, trying to hold Beth's thrashing body down
without hurting her. His voice, which normally sounded with conviction, this
time, rang with doubt as he glared at Doctor Latham.
Latham nodded
his head, saying, "All of Baptiste's experiments with the feeders we've
managed to save, those poor souls, have shown an overwhelming calming
effect."
"With no
harm?" Trinity demanded through the chunkiness of his fangs fully
extended. The beast inside him was perversely interested.
"None has
been recorded to date," Latham answered. "And she's going to pull the
stitches out if we don't do —"
Trinity cut him
off with a growl and his arm extended. He flipped his wrist upward. "Cut
it!"
He would have
done it himself, but he needed at least one hand to hold Beth from struggling
off the bed. Doctor Latham cut his wrist and unnaturally dark blood began to
pool.
Beth was
struggling so much he had to force his wrist to her panting mouth. "Drink
it, maiden," he commanded with a strident voice, leaving little choice.