In the Heat of the Bite (38 page)

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Authors: Lydia Dare

Tags: #Romance, #Regency, #General, #Fiction

BOOK: In the Heat of the Bite
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The Hadley twins had Callista backed into a dark corner, where she was evidently pleased to stay for the moment. Rhiannon wasn’t certain what made Wes and Gray think they could win against a vampyre of her age and strength. They would most likely be proven wrong. Dead wrong.

To help matters, Rhiannon cleared the darkened sky, pushing the clouds back until the stars twinkled and the moon lit the clearing where they stood.

She found Matthew in the throng of male bodies. He said softly, “Callista, I believe it’s time for you to take your leave. Come. I’ll see you to your coach.”

She placed her hand in Matthew’s but didn’t follow when he tugged her arm. “So sad, what they all have done to you,” she said quietly.

“Sad?” Wes bit out. He pointed to the scar that now streaked across his face. “
This
is sad, madam,” he bit out.

“That is but a consequence of your youthful follies,” she replied, laughing beneath her breath. The very sound made the hair on the back of Rhiannon’s neck stand up. “Follies you seem destined to repeat.” She motioned toward Gray with her pointy fingernails. “I can make you a matching set again. Would that be helpful?”

Archer growled low in his throat.

“Oh, such savage creatures,” Callista crooned. She shot a glance at Cait. “How do you stand to bed one of the beasts, Lady Eynsford?”

“You’ve done enough damage, Callista. It’s time to go home.” Matthew motioned to the path, indicating that she should precede him.

“Do you plan to escort me, Matthew? You and I need to discuss a few things, regardless. I have need of your company.”

“Over my dead body,” Rhiannon said, stepping into the light.

“That, my dear, can be arranged,” the vampyre sneered. There was pure hatred for Rhiannon in her gaze. The animosity and irritation she felt because of the wolves was obviously fodder for her playful side. But Rhiannon, on the other hand, was a different matter.

“Callista!” Matthew barked. “You and I both know you will do no such thing. If I have to pick you up and carry you out of here, I will.”

“You and who else?” she asked softly. “You are not the man I created.” She pointed one long red fingernail at Rhiannon and beckoned her closer. “Come here, my dear. I have a wedding gift for the two of you.” She turned to Matthew. “If I kill her, Matthew, I can bring her back to life. Don’t worry. It worked for you for a very long time.”

She patted his cheek hard enough that a slap rang out. But when she turned back, Rhiannon saw it. She saw that little hint of pain in the woman’s eyes. She was hurting. She already missed Matthew, and he wasn’t even gone. Theirs had been a friendship of more than six hundred years. Matthew had said himself that she was almost like a mother to him.

The Lycans all advanced upon Callista at once when she threatened Rhiannon. There were four of them, all determined to do good on this night. Rhiannon created a gust of wind that blew around the clearing and then put enough force behind it that she physically pushed each of the Lycans back, away from the vampyre. Their astounded curses barely registered as she pushed Cait back as well and removed Matthew from Callista’s reach. Rhiannon raised her hands by her sides and lifted them flat toward the heavens until a heavy layer of fog hung between the clearing and the Lycans and Cait. Through the mist, she heard the Hadleys curse as they struggled to find their way out of the fog. Then Rhiannon stepped closer to Callista.

Callista could move with so much speed that no one could even see her, yet when her body coiled for motion, Rhiannon called quickly to the heavens and shot six heavy spears of ice into the ground at the woman’s feet. Matthew could do no more than gasp as he watched, helpless, as Rhiannon stopped the vampyre’s advance.

Callista looked down, astounded to find herself trapped in a web of icicles that had sliced through her gown and into the earth. She narrowed her eyes at Rhiannon. “Do you think that will stop me?” she asked directly.

“No, but I have more. And ye can either accept that I will win this battle, or ye can continue.” Her voice didn’t quiver, not even once.

The vampyre jerked her skirts free of the heavy spears with more than a little effort and torn fabric. But before Callista could fully remove the last icicle, Rhiannon spun her finger in the air as she blew across it, and a whirlwind erupted around Callista. The woman shrieked as that one stake held her fixed to the ground and the swirling wind spun her around and around, until her legs were tied up beyond a point she could escape from within her skirts.

“Callista,” Matthew tried again. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

The vampyre’s gaze swung toward Matthew again, and Rhiannon saw more than a hint of pain within the depths of Callista’s eyes this time. If the woman had a heart, it would certainly have been breaking. “I made you,” she cried.

“You did, and I will thank you until the day that I die,” Matthew said, his tone sincere, his hand over his heart.

“But you
will
die,” she said softly.

“Yes, I will. But I will also live. And love. And have children. And I will still be your friend.”

“Not with
her
,” Callista spat toward Rhiannon.

Rhiannon peered down at her fingernails, trying to appear bored and unconcerned. But Callista moved in one last feeble attempt to win. She jumped forward as much as her trapped skirts would allow and reached for Matthew. That was when Rhiannon had finally had enough. She closed her eyes and brought down the biggest bolt of lightning she had ever summoned. The bolt shot through the air as though in slow motion, moving in a zigzag pattern until the glowing spear of energy stopped just above Callista’s head.

“What shall it be?” Rhiannon asked. She pointed toward the hovering bolt of lightning and said, “If ye survive this, I’ll have the winds bring me a wooden stake next. I willna let ye harm anyone else.”

She saw the moment when Callista gave in. When the vampyre gave up the attitude of superiority. When she let go of all the hatred. When she allowed herself to feel the hurt. She dropped to the ground in a tangle of skirts.

Rhiannon sent the lightning bolt back from whence it had come and kneeled down to peer at the woman who had once saved her husband. Because that was all she was in that moment. A woman. “There comes a time that every mother must pass her child’s safekeepin’ over ta someone else. In this case, it’s me. Have I proven I’m worthy of him?” She tilted her head and waited for the vampyre’s response.

A sniffle met her ears, which nearly made Rhiannon want to grin. But she forced herself not to.

“He’ll be safe with you?” Callista asked cautiously.

“Always,” Rhiannon replied with a nod. “I love him.”

“I do, too. In a very different way than you do, of course,” she explained.

“Of course,” Rhiannon agreed, still biting back that smile.

“I refuse ta be nice ta those beasts,” Callista groused as she motioned toward the fog.

“That battle is their own to fight,” Rhiannon laughed. She extended a hand to Callista and helped her rise.

“I would ask you to dance with me, Callista, but you look as though you’ve been caught in a windstorm. And there are the oddest tears in your gown.” Matthew obviously bit the inside of his cheek.

“Will you take me home?” she asked, instead.

“Of course, we will,” Matthew said as he leaned over and slid his arm around Rhiannon. She leaned into him, accepting his strength. She lowered the fog. Cait and Dash stood in a close embrace, and the Hadleys all looked a bit dazed by the entire event.

“We could hear but couldn’t see,” Archer said.

Rhiannon just nodded.

The Lycans all grumbled as they turned and dispersed back into the dark. But she heard Archer exclaim, “I knew there was something odd about Lady Blodswell. Thank God, you found a normal lass, Dash.”

Rhiannon covered her mouth to keep in the explosion of laughter that threatened. Cait certainly couldn’t be called normal.

“Ye ken ye canna tell anyone about the odd weather…” Cait began.

“Who would believe us?” the twins asked in unison.

Matthew tucked a stray lock behind Rhiannon’s ear. “I’ll take Callista around to the front. Do you mind saying our good-byes to the duchess?”

“Of course no’.” Rhiannon smiled at him one last time.

She made her way back inside the ballroom and located the Duchess of Hythe whispering something in Sorcha’s ear. It could only have been Her Grace’s distraction that kept Sorcha from joining the others in the garden, which was a blessing. Rhiannon crossed the floor, nodding and smiling at people as she passed.

“Rhi,” Sorcha gushed as soon as Rhiannon reached them, “I’ve had the most marvelous time.”

“This little friend of yours,” the duchess began, “is probably the cheeriest gel I’ve ever met.”

Rhiannon agreed with a nod of her head. “She is indeed.”

“She simply must meet Madeline and help bring the girl out of her shell a bit more.” Her Grace focused her icy eyes on Sorcha. “Do you have plans to be in Town next season?”

“I hadna thought about it.” Sorcha shrugged.

“Well, think about it. I’m certain I can get you attached to an earl of your own, given enough time.”

An
earl
of her own was the last thing on Sorcha’s mind, unless that particular earl was a Lycan. Rhiannon winked at her friend, knowing they shared that private joke. Then she smiled at the duchess. “I do hate ta leave so early, Yer Grace. But Blodswell is already havin’ our carriage brought around.”

“In a hurry to get you home, is he?” The old woman’s eyes crinkled when she smiled.

“Indeed. We are startin’ for Derbyshire this evenin’.”

“At night?” The duchess’ hand flew to her chest. “With highwaymen about?”

“I am certain we will be safe.” No highwayman could withstand a jolt of lightning, should one be so foolish as to stop her coach. Rhiannon leaned forward and kissed the woman’s cheek. “Thank ye for everythin’ ye’ve done for me.”

The duchess squeezed Rhiannon’s hand. “It was my pleasure, Lady Blodswell.” Then dismissing Rhi, Her Grace turned her focus back to Sorcha. “I am planning a house party this summer, Miss Ferguson. I do hope you’ll come. Madeline could use a girl her age in attendance.”

“That is very sweet. I’m hopin’ Cait—Lady Eynsford—will ask me to stay with her.”

The duchess rolled her eyes heavenward. “Miss Ferguson, Hythe’s family seat in Kent borders Eynsford’s. The marquess and his wife are, of course, invited to whatever festivities I have planned this summer. But you should stay with me.”

Rhiannon started for the exit, grinning to her ears. The Marquess of Eynsford would
not
be happy to learn his summer had already been planned for him.

 

Clutching Rhiannon’s hand in his, Matthew looked across the dark coach at Callista. She hadn’t said more than two words since they had started their journey to Hampstead. In his heart, he knew this would be the last time he would see his old maker.

“You are welcome to visit anytime, you know,” he said, knowing she would never take him up on his offer.

Callista nodded once.

From the window, he saw her cottage come into view. Matthew tugged his signet ring from his finger and leaned forward on the bench. “I want you to have this,” he said, placing the ring in her hand.

She looked down at it, disdain in her dark-as-night eyes. “I don’t want your ring, Matthew.”

But she’d be so much happier if she’d take it. “Don’t you miss the sun warming your skin? The joy of a cloudless day and the birds chirping?” His ring had allowed him, for all these years, to still live in the world of humans. It was one of the reasons his outlook on the world was so different. If she’d just take that chance, her life could be more than it was.

Callista sighed, turning the ring over and over in her hand. “I can feel the life within it.”

Matthew settled back against the squabs. “Enjoy it, Callista.”

She shook her head, leaned forward, and dropped the relic back in his hand. “I never wanted any of your rings. Not the first time you offered one. And not now. Give the heirloom to your children.” Her glance briefly touched Rhiannon.

The coach stopped before Callista’s quaint home, and Matthew grabbed her hand before she could exit. “But you would get so much more from it than anyone else. Please.”

Finally, the old twinkle was back in her eyes. “Alas, I have no use for it. I live in the world I was meant to, Matthew. And now you shall have to live in the one meant for you.” She looked again at Rhiannon. “I am trusting you to take care of him, Lady Blodswell.”

“Yer faith is no’ misplaced,” Rhiannon said quietly. “I love him.”

For the first time that evening, Callista smiled. “I know.” Then she opened the carriage door and vanished into the night so quickly that Matthew couldn’t see where she’d gone.

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