Rhys stared grimly at the oak tree opposite him and concentrated on saying his rosary. It was the only way he could subdue his unruly body and gain even a modicum of calm. He wanted to chase after Verity and demand that she let him into her bed. And what would that achieve? In his more lucid moments he knew that the best thing to do was to wait for her to come to him. At the moment, with his prick raging with thwarted lust, it seemed nigh impossible.
Suddenly fear flooded his senses and he lost his place in the prayer. He looked back toward the path to the palace along which Verity had fled.
She was running toward him, and for a moment his heart leapt with joy, until he saw her face and realized that the terror in his mind was emanating from her. He drew his dagger.
“Verity, what’s wrong?”
She flung herself into his arms and buried her face against his chest. She was trembling so hard that all he could do was hold her close and rest his chin on the top of her head. He waited for her breathing to even out and slid his hand under the hair at the nape of her neck, just so that he could touch her skin.
“Cariad?”
“Kiss me, Rhys.”
He stared at her for a stupefied moment. “What?”
“Kiss me!”
With a groan he obliged her, his mouth finding hers, his arms locking around her with all his strength. She kissed him back, her tongue in his mouth, her teeth nipping at his lower lip. He tasted blood and his thoughts narrowed in a haze of red-tinted lust.
Without taking his mouth from hers, he maneuvered her backward toward the trees and away from the path. She didn’t protest, her body pressed to his, her hand tugging on his hair as if she wanted to devour him too. He angled her against one of the trees and fumbled with her heavy skirts, needing to feel her, touch her, own her.
She didn’t stop him, her fingers now busy attacking the points that attached his codpiece to his hose and freeing his already hard prick.
“Ah, God, Verity.” His breath hissed out as she wrapped her hand around him. He plunged his fingers between her legs and found her already wet and ready. It took him but a moment to brace her against the tree and lift her over his aching shaft.
They both gasped as he slid home and she moaned his name. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she found her balance and he began to move fast and rough. She didn’t seem to object and he kept up the frantic pace, his mind entwined with hers, her desperate need for him driving him onward toward a fiery completion.
He managed to slide a hand between them and added his thumb to her swollen bud to accentuate her pleasure. She rewarded him with a climax that had him fighting the desire to spill his seed. She started to tighten around him again and he knew it was too much, that he had to join her, that he had . . .
That he had to pull out, and protect her, even as she protested his pulling away from her. He managed it and collapsed against her, barely finding the strength to continue holding her up. His head came to rest in the crook of her neck, his mouth pressed against the pulse leaping in her throat. A desperate urge to bite down and taste her blood surged through him and he wrenched his mouth away.
With trembling hands he brought her legs down to the ground and wiped furiously at his lips. What demon possessed him? Was he channeling Elias’s desires or, worse still, those of Janus?
As he fought to steady himself, Verity continued to lean against him. Eventually she looked up and he braced himself for her condemnation.
“Oh God, Rhys. He speaks Welsh.”
For a moment, he was confused. “Who does?”
“Janus!” She shuddered. “He spoke to me and I—I was so frightened.”
“What did he say?” His heart clenched at the tears in her eyes. “Verity,
what did he say
?”
“He asked why I didn’t lie with you.” Her voice shook. “And if I was saving myself for him.”
Pure rage flooded Rhys’s body and he had to resist an urge to draw his sword.
He forced himself to look down at her. “Is that why you came back to me? To prove the Vampire wrong?”
She cupped his cheek, her blue eyes fierce. “I came back because you are the only man I want and the only man I trust to keep me safe. Is that not enough for you?”
He brought his mouth down to meet hers and kissed her hard until she kissed him back. When he pulled away she was panting.
“I will never allow him to have you, Verity. By all that’s holy, I’ll die first.”
She nodded slowly and then pressed herself against him once again, her head on his shoulder and her arms around his waist. As his rage cooled, he felt an ice-cold intent to kill at any cost, and he hoped that he would encounter Janus soon.
Chapter 21
“I
shall ask the Elders.” Mistress Hopkins frowned. “The idea that one of our own has turned into a Vampire sickens me.”
“It is possible that the man had no choice in the matter,” Rhys said quietly. “Not everyone asks to be bitten by a Vampire.”
“But Janus made a choice to fight and kill his own people!” Mistress Hopkins exclaimed. “That is unforgivable.”
Rhys tended to agree with her and he saw that Verity was nodding too. She looked a lot calmer than she had on the previous day, but he was still worried about her.
Mistress Hopkins searched for her cloak. “I don’t think this matter can wait. I’ll seek out Lady Alys right now. I’ll come and find you at court if I receive any answers for you. I agree with your Master Warner. Blood is the key to this puzzle.”
Rhys held the door open for her and Verity and watched the woman practically run toward the forest.
“I wonder whether Lady Alys lives in the stone circle,” he said.
Verity smiled. “I hope not. It would be rather uncomfortable.” She slipped her arm through his and they proceeded down the path together and back toward the palace. “I’m so worried about the queen, Rhys. She looks as if simply rising from her bed is an effort.”
“We must stop this monster,” Rhys said abruptly. “I will not have him destroying your peace.”
“I know. I had a thought about that. I was wondering if he would come to me if I showed any sign of interest in him.”
Rhys stopped walking. “Are you mad?”
“I don’t think so.” She looked at him quite calmly. “I’d do anything to keep him from destroying the queen and her child.”
“Verity, I don’t care about the queen. I care about you, and you are not offering yourself up as bait for a Vampire!”
“But I am a Llewellyn. I swore to lay down my life to defend the Tudor dynasty.”
He saw the strength in her, the pride in her family name, and her desire to prove worthy of it. For a second, he remembered the sweet-natured little girl he’d grown up with, and he found it hard to reconcile her with the confident woman standing before him. But her quiet strength had always been there. He’d just been so blinded by Rosalind that he’d failed to see it.
He took her hand and brought it to his lips. She deserved his trust. “You do your name great honor, my lady. Never doubt it.”
“Then you will let me contact the Vampire?”
“If it becomes absolutely necessary, then yes, I’ll agree to it.”
He would never tell her that giving her his blessing was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do, that all he wanted was to hold her in his arms and protect her.
“Thank you, Rhys. Your confidence in me means more than I can ever tell you.” She hesitated and the color in her cheeks heightened. “I have not thanked you for what you did yesterday.”
“When I made love to you?” He smiled. In some ways she was still the same shy girl. “You do not need to thank me for that.”
She moved closer and cupped his cheek. “For not giving me your seed. I did not realize a man could . . .”
Her blush deepened and he kissed her hand again. “That a man could protect you like that? It is against the Church’s teachings and not always failproof, but I will try to do what you wish.”
“I think I am beginning to believe you.” She looked into his eyes and everything around him seemed to go still. “And if that is true, I have nothing else to run away from, do I?”
“So?” He held his breath as she smiled at him.
“So I must admit that I love you.”
He could only stare at her, speech beyond him as he struggled to understand the enormity of her words and how they changed
everything
.
“Rhys?”
He kissed her gently on the mouth, a lifelong pledge, a sign of everything she meant to him, and of everything she would become for him.
She sighed and kissed him back, relaxing against his chest as if she belonged there. He sent up a prayer of thanks to all his gods and let out his breath with a resounding shudder.
A flicker of motion caught Rhys’s attention and he reluctantly spun around to find Elias at his elbow.
“Where is Olivia?” Elias demanded, without his usual exquisite manners.
“Olivia? I have no idea,” Rhys answered, and Verity also shook her head, both of them caught unawares. “Is she not with the queen at this hour?”
“She is not.” Elias produced a scrap of parchment. “I found this in her bedchamber. It appears to be the beginnings of a letter to you, Sir Rhys.”
“What?” Rhys took the parchment and frowned at the neat handwriting. “Why would she be writing to me?”
“This letter alone would be enough to make any Vampire suspect her of conspiring with our enemies,” Elias said. “If she was caught writing that and it was taken in evidence against her, she might already have been executed as a traitor and a spy.”
“What?” Rhys grabbed hold of Elias’s arm, the still-unfamiliar and unwelcome surge of Vampire power rising within him. “That cannot be allowed to happen. You have to find out what is going on and save her!”
Verity touched his shoulder, her expression distraught. “What can we do to help?”
Elias pulled free of Rhys’s tenacious grasp. “First I will ascertain whether she has been taken by the Vampire Council. If she has, there is a very good possibility that I can save her.”
“And if she has not?”
“Then we have to determine who has taken her and what does it have to do with the plot against the queen.”
Rhys smashed one of his gloved hands into the other. “She drew attention to herself the other night when I stopped Dafydd Morgan from killing her.”
“That’s true. Mayhap someone took note of where her allegiances lie and decided to do something about it.”
“By God’s teeth,” Rhys muttered. “I should not have intervened. Olivia could have just vanished and Dafydd would have been deprived of his kill.” He swung back to Elias. “How quickly can you find out if the Council is holding her?”
“Quickly, Sir Rhys. I only stopped to tell you both what had happened and to make sure I was not mistaken. I will go to the Other Realm now.”
Elias disappeared and Rhys was left staring at Verity.
She reached up and cupped his jaw. “This is not your fault.”
“Then why do I feel so responsible?”
“Because you are a good man who cares about others even if they are Vampires.”
“I exposed her. I might as well have signed her death warrant.”
“Rhys, the Vampire is already connected to all of us through blood. He probably already knew about Olivia.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “Let’s get back to the palace and I will search Olivia’s room again to see if Elias missed anything important.”
“I’ll ask the other slayers if they have seen her as well,” Rhys replied. “And then I’ll meet you in the queen’s chambers.”
Verity surveyed the small attic room Olivia shared with another of the queen’s ladies. The bed the two female Vampires shared was unmade and there appeared to have been a scuffle—a pitcher of water had been knocked over and the chest and desk were askew.
Verity inhaled slowly and immediately caught the scent of orange blossom mixed with lavender, which identified the room’s two occupants. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the underlying aromas and caught other, more masculine smells. She recognized Elias’s unmistakable wolf scent and another that was all too familiar, the smell of decay that emanated from the Vampire’s servants.
It was enough for her to guess that Olivia hadn’t left the room voluntarily. But exactly who had taken her and why? Verity checked through the clothes chest and under the sheets of the bed, but found nothing to help her. A damaged quill pen lay on the desk, but there was no more parchment or ink. Either Olivia had borrowed the parchment to write her letter or the evidence had been taken away with her.
Verity took one last slow look around the room and then headed for the door. As she pulled it open, the draft stirred the deadened air, bringing just the faintest hint of foxglove to her nose.