Darkness In The Flames (51 page)

Even without their fangs, it seemed his woman could not stop shrieking her climax to the world.

He held her tightly, feeling the shudders that racked her and the spasms around his face.

It was a precious moment for Nick.

A brush with the humanity he’d thought lost to him forever.

He had no regrets about his treatment of Gawain and Isolde. He’d spoken nothing but the truth when he said he’d wanted to kill them—exterminate them like the vermin they were. His fury had known no bounds as he’d ridden to the Towers, making his hands shake on the reins.

But when he’d arrived and found them at their play, it was as if he looked at them through new eyes.

He’d observed them, watched their antics and at last seen them for what they were. Two stupidly brainless people with only emptiness and lust where intelligence and love should be.

He felt no pity for Gawain. He had to have ingested a vast amount of the drugs to do such damage to himself. And Isolde too must have overindulged. Nick knew his way around such chemicals. Their regular consumption would have rendered them sick and impotent, for a while at least. Punishment enough in Nick’s opinion.

But their greed for sensation, their continued descent into drug-fueled depravity had brought about their sad state. As Verity had said, there was indeed a certain symmetry to it. Allowing them to be the instruments of their own destruction.

At least Nick could rest in the knowledge that they would never again inflict such pain on another human being. That their desires would no longer threaten those around them.

For the rest? He cared not. It was, as he’d told Verity, in their past and he was content to let it stay there.

As they settled for their rest, Verity turned to Nick. “I love you.” She leaned into his shoulder finding the most comfortable spot for her head. “I wanted you to know. In spite of everything, whatever else lies ahead—none of that matters. I love you. Whether for this moment only or for eternity. That will never change, Nick.”

He blinked away moisture, something suspiciously like tears flooding his vision. “I love you too, Verity. I don’t know how or why we’ve ended up together, but I’ll forever thank the Fates for uniting us.”

His heart was in his throat as he spoke.

Nick Blaine had accomplished what he’d considered impossible for a vampire. Where there had been only darkness, now there was light. Where there had been emptiness there was now joy.

And where there had been solitary desolation—there was now love.

And Verity.

Chapter Seventeen

The moon was rising as they got their first look at St. Chesswell’s.

There were lights glowing from many of the windows and even though the grey and weathered stone was solid, the entire place gave off a welcome—a beacon in the darkness against the glittering sea beyond. A dark strip on the horizon divided the waves from the sky—the Isle of Wight most probably.

“That’s it. Journey’s end.” Nick gazed at it.

“It looks nice enough.”

Verity’s voice was calm, but he could sense her nervousness. He was nervous too, an odd sensation somewhere deep in his gut that had driven him to this place without knowing quite why he had to be there.

He shrugged. “No point in staring at it. We might as well go and find out who—or what—is within.”

The salt air was soft around their faces as they rode down the gravel drive to the massive doors. This was a place that was linked to the sea, perhaps built as a fortress or something, that had become a home to the St. Chesswell line. Nick knew nothing about them, he’d heard the name at some point in his travels, but other than a vague memory…he was heading into this quite blind.

It wasn’t a feeling he relished, when coupled with his unsettling apprehension.

“I think there’s a chyne around here.”

“A what?” Nick glanced at Verity.

“A chyne. You know, one of those places where a river cut through the land to the sea. It’s a sharp valley type thing. I remember reading about them in smuggler’s tales when I was a little girl.” She frowned. “Damn it. I can’t recall the details…”

“No matter. I suppose we’ll find out.” He dismounted and tied his horse to a convenient tether post at the foot of the steps.

Side by side they walked to the door.

Nick looked at Verity. “Are we doing the right thing?”

She gazed steadily back. “It’s late, yet there are lights on. We will not be waking the household if that’s what you’re worried about. As far as doing the right thing? You tell me.”

“I cannot. And that’s troubling me.”

“I trust your instincts.” Verity reached for the heavy knocker and let it fall with a resounding thud. “There. Now it’s no longer your decision.” She smiled at him.

Before he could frame a suitable response, the door creaked open and a man stood there, silhouetted by the glow of candles inside. He was elderly and leaned on a sturdy cane.

“Good evening. May I help you?”

The voice was courteous and correct, betraying simple interest, no more.

“We’re looking for St. Chesswell’s.” Nick answered in equally polite tones.

“You’ve found it.” He looked around him. “My butler’s hiding somewhere, I suppose. Probably asleep by now.” Turning back he took a long look at the couple standing before him. “I’m Chesswell. Sir Sidney Chesswell. What can I do for you?”

Nick ran his hand through his hair. “We apologize for the lateness of our arrival. In truth…” He paused uncertainly. “I don’t exactly know why we’re here…”

Sir Sidney continued his appraisal of them, his gaze finally reaching their faces and pausing.

Nick held his breath.

“So you don’t know why you’re here?” Sir Sidney tilted his head to one side and smiled gently. “I do.” He stepped back and opened the door wide. “Come in.”

Verity followed Nick into St. Chesswell’s, her curiosity matched by her confusion. The place was welcoming, lamps and candles brightening what would otherwise have been a gloomy hall. Sir Sidney was very polite and seemed friendly, his smile hinting at some private amusement.

“Would you come into the salon? There’s a nice fire going and I can probably scare up some refreshments. Not that you’d need them, of course, but it is the hospitable thing to do, isn’t it?”

Totally at a loss, Verity simply did as she was bid, taking comfort from Nick’s presence and the sense that he was as confused as she was.

They walked into a large room where the promised fire burned brightly in an old and blackened fireplace. Thick drapes blocked out the night and there was an air of cozy contentment pervading the scene.

Two people were already there.

They stood as Sidney walked in. “We have visitors.” He stepped aside.

Verity caught her breath.

Four gazes met and clashed in astonishment. She found herself staring at the couple by the mantel—a man, dashingly dark and handsome, standing next to a woman with fiery rich red hair. His arm was reaching protectively for her as the couples sized each other up, then paused.

Verity felt the impact of the man’s look like a punch to her gut. His eyes were
black
—just like
Nick’s
.
Just like hers
.

Silence reigned, broken only by the pop and crackle of logs in the fireplace.

Finally Sir Sidney cleared his throat. “Well, somebody has to make the introductions.” He moved to the fire and turned to Nick and Verity. “This is my son, Adrian. And his wife, Katherine.” He raised an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“Astounded.” Nick cleared his throat.

The man called Adrian chuckled. “You’re not the only one.”

His deep voice recalled Verity to her wits. “I’m sorry. This is Sir Nicholas Blaine. I’m Verity. Verity Chandler.”

Katherine Chesswell moved then. “Hello. Welcome, Sir Nicholas, Miss Chandler. Come to the fire and sit. You both look as if you’ve traveled a great distance.” Her smile was sincere and Verity found herself accepting the outstretched hand, allowing herself to be drawn to a chair and seated. They might have been guests arriving for tea.

But they weren’t.

Nick voiced all their thoughts. “I never dreamed I’d meet another.” He stared at Adrian.

“Nor I.” Katherine’s eyes twinkled. Katherine’s very
dark
blue eyes.

“Good Lord. You
too
?” Verity blinked.

“Yes. Me too.”

“Well, I’ll be—” Nick bit off the expletive.

“We all are.” Katherine settled her skirts. “Damned, that is. Although Sir Sidney hasn’t suffered the same fate. He just looks out for us.”

Nick was struggling with this strange new development. “Thérèse?”

The word reverberated around the room and the smile fell away from Katherine’s face as she nodded. “Yes. She’s responsible for Sir Sidney’s injury too.”

Verity turned to see the older man lower himself cautiously into a chair, assisted by his son.

He waved away Katherine’s comment. “‘Tis nothing. I’m an old man. Not quite so quick on my feet as I once was.”

“How—when—” Verity stumbled over her words as questions flooded her mind.

“If I may—” Sir Sidney interjected. “You need a room. You need to relax a little. You are among friends here and I can imagine the questions that plague you must be overwhelming.” He smiled gently at Verity. “Let Katherine settle you both. Then come back and we shall talk of things that must be said. I’m up all night these days. A habit I’ve picked up from my son.” He glanced briefly at Adrian, a glance full of affection.

Adrian grinned back. “You’re right, Father.” He turned. “May I call you Nick?”

Nick nodded. “By all means.”

“And I shall call you Verity. ‘Tis only right. We are, after all,
family
, aren’t we?” Katherine’s warm smile encompassed them all. “Something I never expected to have, other than my husband’s.” She stood, full of energy and life, something that surprised Verity.

Exactly why she should have wondered at Katherine’s demeanor, she wasn’t quite sure. But then again, it was the first time she’d met another female vampire, who was married to a vampire, who was the son of somebody who wasn’t a vampire but knew all about them—she put a hand to her head. “I’m so bloody confused right now I don’t know which end is up.”

Nick laughed. “Me too, love. Me too. If these kind people will allow us to stay with them for a bit, then perhaps we can straighten ourselves out.” He turned to Adrian. “I will add that my senses tell me you mean us no harm. That you and I have shared—events—things for which there are often no words.”

Adrian nodded somberly. “Indeed.”

“Then that is our bond, Adrian. Perhaps it’s what drew me here. To this place. To find you and your lady wife.”

“Soon.” Katherine tugged them to the door. “Soon you can sit down and tell us all about it. Let’s get you sorted out first, shall we? And Verity—if you need anything at all in the way of clothing, just tell me. Your bundle is small and you seem to be traveling light. I know what it is to be without a decent garment, believe me.”

Still chattering away, Katherine led the two bemused people from the room.

Sidney stared into the fire. “Have you met Nick Blaine before?”

Adrian’s gaze followed his father’s, both men watching the flames. “No. No, his name is unfamiliar to me.”

“He’s here for a reason. He must be. How else would he have found us? We’re not exactly on the main turnpike from London.”

“I know.”

“Are you worried, my son?”

“Worried?” Adrian lifted an eyebrow. “About Nick and Verity? No. But about what has led them here…well, possibly.”

“‘Twill be useful to have others,” mused Sidney. “My experiments will benefit from a fresh infusion of new blood.”

Adrian chuckled. “I’ll be sure to let them know they’ll be required to donate a cup or two for the cause.”

Sidney snorted. “Don’t mock. It’s helping you, isn’t it?”

Adrian nodded. “Yes. I’m not mocking, Father. Believe me, that’s the last thing I’d make fun of.” He sighed and stretched, letting his head roll around on his shoulders. “I’d hoped to live quietly, to ignore what we
are
, perhaps. Manage some sort of life that qualifies as almost normal. Whatever that is.”

Sidney shook his head. “There are limitations, Adrian. You and Katherine—well, you must accept certain things.”

“I think we have, for the most part. But there is the question of children. I know Katherine feels the lack of them. I know she has a small empty part of her that I can never fill with my sons.”

Sidney ached for his not-quite-son. “I understand. But that is something quite beyond my ability to rectify, I’m afraid.”

Adrian immediately went to his father and knelt before him. “Father—you have done so much already. We’d both give you grandchildren if we could, you know that. You have taken on a great burden by adopting me and accepting Kat into St. Chesswell’s. Do not take on this one too.”

Sidney’s heart warmed once more as he gazed into Adrian’s black eyes. “I have never regretted any of those decisions. Best day of my life was the one I found you lying on my beach.”

“Mine too.” Adrian covered his father’s hand with his own.

“Well then, let’s see what these two have to say for themselves. They may be able to shed some light on this whole situation. I’ll look forward to hearing their experiences with—
herself
.” He hated to even put a name to the red-haired demon that lurked in the darkness beyond. “Any and all information can be useful if we use it correctly.”

“Always the investigator, yes?” Adrian grinned.

“Can’t help it. It’s a nice way of hiding the fact I’m a nosy old man.”

Adrian laughed with his father, a sound that welcomed the party back into the room.

Now
, thought Sidney.
Perhaps now the shadows that surround us all might lift a little and give us a glance at something new.

He dared not even think along the lines of a resolution. That was too much—a dream he admitted to himself might be impossible. Thérèse was strong, very,
very
strong. Her hold over her victims, sexual and violent, waxed and waned but never broke completely.