Blood of the Rose (8 page)

She looked away from him and picked a piece of lavender, crushed the fragrant flowers between her finger and thumb. Christopher took a deep breath.

“If I told you that I am reconsidering my current loyalties, would that help?”

“What?” Her head shot up and she blinked at him.

He caught up with her and took her arm again, continued their walk along the neat graveled path with its red rope tile border. “I am throwing myself on your mercy, Rosalind. I fear the Vampires have a sinister aim that I cannot in conscience support. And worse, they are so sure of success this time that they can afford to ignore their allies, even the Ellis family.”

Rosalind stared at him openmouthed until he continued. “I have been told almost nothing. Apparently, I am suspect because of my name, and because I am allied to you.”

“Who told you that?”

“Both Elias Warner and my uncle. I suspect my uncle is playing a deep game. In recent years he seemed to have lost faith in the Vampires and reckoned himself far superior, but now . . .” Christopher let that thought die. He might be suspicious of his uncle, but he still owed some loyalty to his kin. “By the way, Elias Warner sends his greetings to you.”

“I’m sure he does. He must be ecstatic.”

Christopher found himself smiling. “He is and that is extremely worrying.”

Rosalind let out her breath. “The Druids also fear there is a plot. That is why my cousin Jasper Llewellyn sent for me.”

Christopher tried to look smug. “I knew you’d come back someday. I hoped it would be because of me, but I’ll accept a dire threat from the Vampire community instead.”

“Unfortunately, Jasper should have reacted more quickly. If we aren’t very lucky indeed, it might be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

She stared at him as if he were a complete fool. “Lady Anne Boleyn, of course.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“She’s a Vampire, Christopher, or haven’t you noticed?”

He laughed in her face and took several hasty steps away, his expression incredulous. “You believe Anne Boleyn is a Vampire? That is one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard.”

With some difficulty, Rosalind maintained her composure. “I don’t think it, my lord—I
know
it.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That’s why Jasper asked for me. I have a better sense of smell than all the male Druid hunters. Lady Anne smells like honeysuckle.”

“But how can this be? I’ve known Anne and her family for years.”

“So I understand.” Rosalind watched him carefully. “Are you sure that you suspected nothing?”

His stunned amusement turned to anger. “Are you suggesting I’ve known Anne was a Vampire all along?”

“It is possible, my lord. You are trained to protect your Vampire allies, aren’t you?”

He marched across to her and towered over her. “On my honor, I’ve never sensed anything from Anne.”

“I suspect your talent for recognizing Vampires is tied mainly to those of your blood.”

“Are you making excuses for me now?” He glared at her. “And they aren’t really of my blood, you know that.”

Christopher might argue the point, and he probably always would, but the fact was that he could access the minds of his mother and her lover’s blood family. In truth, his ability to detect the Spanish Vampire’s thoughts had contributed to her demise.

She touched his ornately embroidered black sleeve. “Christopher, I have to be careful, you know that. We both have to be careful.”

His muscles flexed beneath his sleeve. “If what you say is true—and I’m still not sure I believe it—then the king is indeed in danger.”

Rosalind stiffened. “How can you not believe me? Is your loyalty to the Boleyn family greater than your loyalty to me?”

He pulled out of her grasp and turned away from her. “You don’t understand. They were one of the few families that ever welcomed me, who treated me as a friend.”

“I find it difficult to believe that such an alliance is more important to you than I am.”

“You said it yourself, Rosalind. We both have to be careful. And as you spend every single moment telling me why we cannot be together, you are a fine one to talk.” He bowed. “If you will excuse me, my lady, I believe I need to go back and speak to my uncle.”

“And leave me here?”

“I fear I must. Can you not return to the Lady Anne’s apartments by yourself?”

Rosalind picked up her skirts. “You are too gallant, sir. I’m quite certain that I can find my way back.”

With some difficulty, Christopher bit back a retort and strode off toward his uncle’s chamber. It was interesting that he’d learned more from Rosalind than he had from his own family. He frowned as he considered her startling statement about Anne Boleyn. But he had learned last year that Rosalind’s nose didn’t lie . . .

And he’d also learned something else; Rosalind wasn’t as indifferent to him as she pretended to be. His future wasn’t looking too promising, what with the Mithras Cult set to kill him and his current dilemma about the Vampires, but the thought of Rosalind returning his love at least gave him hope.

Christopher strode back into his uncle’s presence without knocking. Edward looked up from his book, but didn’t seem surprised at how quickly Christopher had returned.

“Uncle, I hear that there is indeed a plot to subjugate the king through the Lady Anne Boleyn.”

“Who told you that?”

“Someone who should know.”

“That was quick.” His uncle smiled. “I saw you walking with the Vampire slayer.”

“What she told me is irrelevant. How far are you prepared to go to support the Vampires in this venture? Do you truly wish to see the whole kingdom come under Vampire rule?”

Edward folded his hands together as if in prayer. “It has long been our family’s duty to support the Vampires in their desires.”

“And what exactly does that mean? I thought we were allied with the Vampires to defeat the Druids, not advance the annihilation of the human race in England!”

“Perhaps the total defeat of the Druids comes at a terrible price, nephew.”

“I hope to God that it doesn’t, Uncle.”

His uncle’s expression hardened. “I will be interested to see how you intend to stop it, Christopher, seeing as you are bound by sacred vows to destroy Druids and support the Vampires.”

“You forget—I’ve also made sacred vows to Rosalind Llewellyn, sir.”

His uncle frowned. “Are you suggesting that those vows are as important as the others you have made?”

“Of course they are. You can’t have it both ways. Either I keep all my vows or none of them.”

“But that is impossible.”

“I know.” Christopher bowed. “I wish you to understand something, sir. I will continue to protect the Vampires from the Druids. I will
not
aid them in taking over my king and my country.”

Edward nodded. “Then we will be at odds, Christopher, and there will be a reckoning between us.”

Christopher gazed at the man who had raised him and felt not a twinge of guilt. “I’m sorry for that, sir, but you taught me that eventually a man has to stand up for what he believes. We just don’t happen to believe in the same things anymore.”

His uncle stirred in his chair and his blue eyes narrowed. “You do understand that the only way out of the Mithras Cult is through your death?”

“I’m aware of that.” Christopher nodded. “I’ll have to take my chances with the council when they meet, won’t I?”

“You think to escape your just punishment?”

Christopher smiled. “With you presiding over the court and counting the votes? No. But at least I’ll have the opportunity to state my reasons for my actions, and mayhap others in the cult will understand, if not approve of my choices.”

Edward’s smile wasn’t pleasant. “I doubt it.”

There was nothing else to say, so Christopher bowed and walked out. It was apparent that his uncle was determined to support the Vampires in their quest for complete domination and Christopher was equally determined to stop him. Why had Edward had such a dramatic change of heart? He was the kind of man who would do anything in his power to preserve his own skin and perhaps his family.

Did he hope for great power in the new regime? It seemed odd, because recently, Christopher had gotten the sense that Edward despised the Vampire Council and considered himself better than his allies.

Christopher
had
to find a way to convince the other Druid slayers and members of the Mithras Cult that total submission to the Vampires’ plans had never been the aim of his people. But why would they listen to him? He was not as powerful as his uncle.

He needed to find out exactly who held the Mithras Cult records, which dated back to the reign of Julius Caesar. Surely there was something in those records that detailed the cult’s original purpose to kill the heretic Druids rather than advocating the destruction of their own race by the Vampires?

His thoughts turned to Marcus Flavian. He wondered whether the old bonds between them might help him in his search. It was certainly something to think on.

Chapter 6

R
osalind pretended to sneeze and hid her face in her hands. Sitting with Anne Boleyn’s ladies was difficult when there were so many Vampires in such close proximity. She also sensed that in certain quarters, she wasn’t welcome, which was hardly surprising considering her illustrious surname. She risked a glance at Anne Boleyn, who was flirting with some of the younger court gallants. The Vampire wasn’t particularly beautiful, but she had a vivacity and charm that made men watch her and keep watching, something Rosalind had never mastered.

If she was being less than charitable, it was also possible that Lady Anne used some form of magic to enslave her followers. Vampires were able to control weaker human minds—that was, after all, how they managed to subdue their human prey long enough to feed from them. And there was a sense of something unnatural in the air, something that tugged at Rosalind’s mind and made her want to fidget.

As a Druid, she was unlikely to be affected by the Vampire’s compulsion, but Rosalind wished she could leave. Unfortunately, she needed to see the Lady Anne with the king, and she also wished to meet George Boleyn, Anne’s handsome brother.

She heard a familiar laugh and turned to see Christopher enter the apartments with the very man she wanted. She slid out of her seat, glad that she was wearing one of her favorite gowns, with a green and gold embroidered bodice that pushed her breasts up quite alarmingly. She slipped between the merry throng until she reached Christopher’s side. She gave him her most dazzling smile.

“My lord! How wonderful to see you.”

At the sound of her voice, Christopher swung around, a quizzical look in his clear blue eyes. He made her an elaborate bow and kissed her hand. “My beloved.” He kept hold of her hand and brought her in front of him. “Have you met Lord George Boleyn, Viscount Rochford?”

“I have not had that pleasure, my lord.”

“George, this is Lady Rosalind Llewellyn, my betrothed.”

Rosalind looked up into the smiling face of George Boleyn and breathed in the feral stench of fox. It took all her composure to curtsy to him and then take a step backward. Christopher retained his grip on her arm, preventing her from moving farther away.

Something unpleasant flashed in the depths of George’s dark eyes. “Llewellyn, eh? A Welsh family like the Tudors, I suppose.”

“Indeed, my lord.” Rosalind finally found her voice. “My family has served the Tudors for generations.”

“So I’ve heard.” He winked at Christopher. “It is a good thing that this beautiful lady is betrothed to you, my old friend, or else I would be chasing after her myself.”

“And then I’d have to challenge you to a duel, George, so perhaps it is best if you leave well alone.”

George Boleyn burst out laughing and slapped Christopher on the back. “I see my reputation precedes me.” His gaze slid over Rosalind again and she noticed that his smile hadn’t reached his dark eyes. “I won’t poach on a friend’s property. I give you my word.”

Rosalind feared her smile was turning into a snarl. It was hard to pretend to be a simpering fool for long. She pinched Christopher’s wrist and he flinched.

“Lady Rosalind has a mind of her own, George. I doubt she would consider herself to be my property.”

“I certainly would not!” Rosalind interjected, her patience at an end. “And I doubt any efforts to woo me away from my lord Christopher would succeed.” She pinched Christopher again. “It was a pleasure to meet you, my lord.”

George Boleyn inclined his head. “Indeed. I wish you well, Christopher. I suspect your marriage will be interesting.”

Christopher led her away to the far corner of the room, and George went to join his sister at the center of the noisy crowd.

“Well?” Christopher demanded the moment they were alone. “What did you think?”

“He smells like a fox.” Rosalind shuddered. “How fitting. He conceals his scent far better than his sister, but he obviously feels no need to cloak what he is. The Boleyns are either very arrogant or very sure of success.” Rosalind licked her lips and wished for a glass of ale to take the acrid taste of the undead away. “I don’t think he was particularly happy to meet me either.”