Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set (142 page)

“Very well, then, sir,” said the butler, still with his extremely proper air. “If you’re certain there is nothing else you require from us…” He seemed utterly lost at the thought.

“Wait,” Savina said, pushing past Max. “There is one thing. Could you have a picnic basket prepared? For tonight. At sunset.”

Max looked at her as if she’d lost her mind, but she ignored him. The butler seemed relieved to have something on which to focus, and he gave a brief bow. “Perhaps something to eat now, as well, then, miss?”

“Yes,” she said before her companion could interrupt. Even if he wasn’t hungry—how could he not be?—she was starving. “Please. That would be great. Oh, and something for his injuries,” she added, then grabbed Max’s arm where she noticed there was a fresh patch of blood. “A third one?”

He shrugged her hand away. “Oh, is that what it is? I thought he missed me.”

The servants peeled away, presumably to go about their business, and Max and Savina continued their search, but to no avail.

“Either she didn’t bring the safe with her,” Savina said, plumping onto the bed, “or it doesn’t look like a safe, and so we don’t know what to look for.” She cast her eyes around the room—over the trunks through which she’d searched for hidden compartments, the wardrobe, under the bed, the desk and its drawers, and then her eyes lit on the jewelry strewn over Rastingard’s bureau.

The vampiress had glanced in that direction several times during their conversation.

Moments later, Savina gave a shout of satisfaction, which brought Max from the adjoining bathroom where he’d been continuing the search while washing up a little. His face and beard were still damp and he was drying his hands on a towel. His clothing was still a disaster, but at least he looked a little better.

“This is it. It has to be! Where are the keys?”

He produced the bracelet and she handed him the deep, velvet-lined jewelry box. “See, there…it’s a hidden lock beneath that slot for her rings.”

Max’s smile was tight as he fit the key into place. The lid popped open smoothly, and inside they found a small collection of papers. He flipped through them quickly, then looked up at Savina. “I don’t see anything that could be it.”

Her heart sank at the expression in his eyes. “We’ll keep looking.”

But they didn’t find the letter they were searching for. Yes, there was information the Venators would find extremely valuable, but the coded letter that had details about Macey was not in the safe box.

“It’s not in here,” Savina said.

Max nodded, his lips flat and grim. “We’ll keep looking.” He tucked the jewelry box under his arm. “Tear her trunks apart and see if there are any secret compartments. Check the motorcar. Search Purcell’s office too.”

“Max,” Savina said, and reached for his arm. She felt as if she needed to do…something.

He paused and shrugged, as if understanding. “I’ll inform Wayren that the information has likely been compromised. They’ve already taken precautions, and so—”

He froze, staring down at the hand she’d rested on his arm. She saw that he was staring at the silver and blue signet ring she was still wearing.

“Where did you get that ring?” Max seized her wrist in a hard grip. The expression on his face was unreadable, almost frightening.

“Estevan made it for me. It’s a safeguard.”

“A safeguard? What do you mean?” He didn’t release her, and he was staring at her as if his life depended on her very words.

“If you’ll let go of me,” she told him coolly, “I’ll show you.”

He did so, but reluctantly, and all the while still pinning her with his eyes. Savina resisted the urge to rub her wrist where he’d grabbed her. Instead, she slipped off the ring, which was made from ornate silver in a heavy band. It was almost too big for her small hand. Its only stone was a smooth blue dome that looked like a sky-colored moonstone. It wasn’t particularly beautiful or striking, but it served an important function.

“This blue stone is actually a vessel filled with liquid. A fast-acting poison that causes an almost instant, painless death.”

Max drew in his breath sharply. His eyes were fastened on the ring. “Go on.” He sounded breathless and in agony at the same time.

“Estevan created a clever little catch on the bottom part of the band. See.” She carefully showed him the minuscule lever that had to be unhooked and then slid to the side. “It’s designed so you can use your thumb on the same hand to release the catch, but so it could never happen by accident. And when you do release the catch and then slide it over,” she said, dropping the ring onto the table in front of them with a dull clatter, “five tiny needles shoot out from the inside of the band and prick your skin, releasing the poison. Twenty seconds later, you’re dead. All from the flick of your own thumb, and a little twist.”

When he didn’t move or speak for a long moment, Savina looked up at him. His expression frightened her more than anything she’d seen today. “Max, what is it?”

“She had one,” he said unsteadily, still staring at the signet. “Just like this. She always wore it. I didn’t know…she said it was a family ring. When she was…found…” He paused, but with a sudden wave of comprehension, Savina already knew what he was going to say. “The stone wasn’t blue…anymore. It looked different. Grayish.”

Tears pricked her eyes as she recognized the raw emotions in his face—grief, bewilderment, hope—and she covered his hand, which had gone cold and still.

She nodded, holding his gaze, knowing she was giving him a gift he never thought he’d have. “Yes, Max. That meant she used the poison.”

“She…” He swallowed and looked away, blinking rapidly. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and Savina released him.

He needed space. He needed to grieve, to comprehend, and to allow this bit of light to fill him. To absorb some of his grief and guilt and pain.

“She wouldn’t have suffered then, Max. She would have been gone before they even touched her.”

“She knew.”

Savina nodded, still looking at him steadily. “Of course she knew. She was the wife of Max Denton.”

~ Confession ~

“This
is
the perfect spot for a midnight picnic,” Max said as he snapped the blanket neatly onto the ground. He still wasn’t quite certain what had put her in mind of returning to this spot after her tete-a-tete with Purcell, but who was he to argue? She’d been amazing today—a woman who wasn’t even a Venator, fighting side by side with him.

Though it felt like a betrayal, he couldn’t quite keep from comparing her to Felicia. They were such different women—both lovely and intelligent and compelling, but one was so much stronger than the other.

Still…he felt as if a great load had been lifted from his heart and mind knowing that Felicia hadn’t suffered. He felt as if he finally could forgive himself for the choice she’d made to be with him.

He frowned, gnawing on that for a moment—and suddenly, a wave of enlightenment illuminated his thoughts. Perhaps Felicia had been stronger than he’d given her credit for. By God, she must have been, to wear that ring—and to make the choice to use it.

To even know that she might
have
to make that choice, and to still love him and marry him and bear his child…perhaps that was the truest measure of strength after all.

To willingly enter and live in a world to which one didn’t really belong…knowing that there might not be a happily ever after, that there would be tragedy and violence and ugliness. He swallowed hard and nodded to himself.

He’d been horribly wrong all these years. Felicia was the strongest, most capable of them all.

“Unfortunately, I never got to actually enjoy the picnic spot,” Savina was saying as she sank down onto the blanket even before it had fully billowed into place. “Things went all awry.”

Max thrust away thoughts of his wife and hung the lantern from a nearby branch. As he adjusted it, he tried not to stare at the way the woman with him now was bathed in the lamp’s warm glow. Her up-tilted face looked stark and delicate in the light, yet that chin, strong with determination, reminded him how much she’d been through in the last twenty-four hours.

Including the discovery of her father’s betrayal.

With that surely filling her mind, now was not the time to think about pressing her back onto that blanket and letting the lantern light slide over her naked body…with his hands and lips and tongue following. Damn. Sometimes it was impossible being a gentleman.

He fiddled with the lantern to distract himself.

Still, as he turned back and looked down at her, something inside his chest squeezed in a way it hadn’t done for a very long time. She, too, was a very strong and brave woman.

“I had every intention of keeping watch over your little seduction scene,” Max commented as he settled down next to her. “But obviously—”

“Obviously you were detained. But I told you, I had things well under control.” She moved her head and he watched in fascination as a good portion of her hair tumbled slowly to her shoulders. Their eyes caught for a moment and held before she looked away…ever so slowly.

All of a sudden, he was very glad he’d had a bath and a shave.

“So if you didn’t scream last night, who did?” he asked as he began to dig through the picnic basket. A jug of the local village’s ale, a pot of soft yellow cheese, bread, roasted chicken, sliced apples…everything looked good, but not nearly as appetizing as the woman sitting next to him. He pulled out two cups and the ale.

Savina was shaking her head, and more of her hair slipped down. Maybe he should just put her out of her misery and yank out the rest of the pins; they didn’t seem to be doing any good. And then he could spread it out over her shoulders and watch it tumble over the blanket when he—

“I don’t know,” Savina said. “Maybe it was one of the maids, and she saw a mouse or a snake or something in the grass. Or someone startled her, or one of the footmen was getting too frisky…or maybe it was a set-up to distract you or me or both of us. It doesn’t really matter. Things turned out all right in the end.” She leaned forward to remove her shoes and then, as he watched with undisguised interest, she rolled down her stockings. Moments later, her slender feet were scandalously bare, tinted dark gold from the lantern.

“Here.” He gave her a cup of ale, taking a sip of his own as he considered how to approach the thing that bothered him the most about this whole debacle. Since he was never one to beat around the bush, he figured it was best to just bring it up. “You say things turned out all right, but they might not have done, Savina. What the hell did you think you were doing, playing at something you don’t have any experience with?” Yes, there was tension in his tone, and it probably didn’t help matters, but he was more than a little angry that she’d be so…free with herself.

Apparently she agreed that his tone was inappropriate, for her expression turned cool. “I came perfectly well prepared, Max. I drank holy water, I had silver crosses on my corset for pity’s sake, and I had a stake—not to mention my ring. I knew what I was doing.”

“But you
didn’t
,” he snapped. “I don’t understand why in the bloody hell you would lose your virginity to a vampire!”

Savina stared at him over her cup of ale, and then she burst out laughing. “Oh, Max!” Her eyelids crinkled with mirth, and it took her a moment to catch her breath. “Is that what you thought? That I was going to give my virtue to a vampire?”

“You said you’d never done it before,” he replied, his jaw tight. He wasn’t certain whether to be relieved or feel foolish. Why was she laughing?

“I meant I’d never seduced a vampire before,” she told him, still watching him with eyes that danced.

His eyes narrowed, and a combination of warmth and relief warred with aggravation. So she wasn’t inexperienced at all. He wasn’t certain how he felt about that. He was more than a little old-fashioned, he realized. “So you’re saying you knew exactly what you were doing, back there in your room.”

The look she gave him made the bottom fall out of his stomach. It was dark and lusty and filled with innuendo. “Did it seem like I didn’t, Max?” And her tone matched.

He sucked in a slow breath. His pulse was out of control, not to mention other parts of him that were waking up rather quickly. Yet, well-versed in hiding his thoughts, Max kept his expression blank. “I didn’t know you were married.”

“That’s because I haven’t been.”

Oh Good God, her smile had turned sultry enough to send a burning stab down to his belly. “I see,” he managed to say. His tongue felt thick, and he realized it had been far too long since he’d been on the receiving end of this sort of repartee. Since Felicia had been killed, his experiences had been quick and impersonal and just barely satisfying.

“Answer my question, Max,” she said. Her voice was more like a purr than anything else, and he found himself moving toward her before he even realized it. She was wearing that spicy-floral scent that made him want to taste her all over. “Did it seem like I didn’t know what I was doing?”

“I’m not certain,” he replied, drawing her toward him firmly. A smile twitched his lips. “Perhaps we should experiment a little. I want to make certain you’re fully aware that Aziz’s youthful injury was nothing more than a figment of your imagination.”

She laughed softly against his mouth, her tongue slipping out to tease him, sliding along the seam of his lips. “Ever since that night in London, I’ve been very aware that all parts of you seem to be working just fine.” She froze, and he saw her eyes go stark wide. “Oh my God,” she muttered, pulling away and looking up into the star-speckled sky as if mortally embarrassed. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

Bloody buggering
hell
. How the hell was he supposed to respond?

“Look, Max, I know you don’t remember any of it, and I was never going to say anything, but—”

“I remember it. All of it.”

She whipped around to stare at him. “You…do?” Shock gave way to aggravation and then eased into a more speculative expression. “I see.”

“I’m sorry, Savina, I was—well, I wasn’t thinking. It was just…it didn’t seem right. I didn’t want any complications. Christ, I was being an ass.” Good grief, he couldn’t remember apologizing or even talking so much to anyone about anything like this for years. Maybe ever. Just like on the train—it was as if she had the mystical ability to open up his mind and make every thought he had, every feeling he was used to keeping bottled up, to pour out.