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Authors: Kate Pearce

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BOOK: Kiss of the Rose
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Elias was so easy to find that Rosalind suspected he had been waiting for her. He sat in the window seat in the queen’s music room, quietly tuning a harp while one of the queen’s ladies read from Sir Thomas More’s
Utopia
. He looked up at her from under his long eyelashes as she curtsied to the queen and then came and sat beside him.

“Lady Rosalind,what a pleasure. You look exquisite this morning.”

“Thank you, Master Warner.” She settled her brown satin skirts around her and smiled at him, keeping her voice to a whisper. “Did you speak to the Council?”

“I did. They said they will investigate the matter immediately.”

“You might also tell them that we were attacked again last night.”

He did not seem surprised. “Indeed.”

“And you allowed it to happen?”

“By the time I returned from my meeting, everything was over and done with.There was nothing for me to do but dispose of the bodies.”

“You could have let us out of the tunnel.”

Elias’s eyebrows rose. “You were trapped? How awful.”

Rosalind fixed him with her most quelling stare.“You don’t remember sealing the flagstones with that heavy stool?”

“Why do you assume it was me?”

“Because most of your kind cannot tolerate being inside a church.”

His slight smile disappeared. “I didn’t trap you down there. If I had, you wouldn’t have survived.”

For some reason, she didn’t doubt him. She fought the sudden chill his words caused in her stomach.

“And, in truth,” Elias continued, “you deserved to be trapped. You had no reason to go blundering into that chamber. You terrified those Vampires.”

“We were going after the rogue Vampire, not seeking other victims. They attacked us.”

“Why would they do that, Vampire slayer?”

She held his cold gaze. “Because the one we seek stirred them up. I suspect she has her resting place down in the tunnels somewhere, and was caught unprepared when Christopher and I found her so close to her lair.”

“You found her together?” He nodded and played the last lilting notes of his song. “How interesting.”

“Isn’t that what you hoped for? That Sir Christopher and I would join together to defeat the monster?”

He smiled at her.“I hoped so, yes, but I wasn’t exactly sure what would happen between you.” He held out his hand. “May I escort you outside?”

Rosalind glanced back at Queen Katherine, but she was now listening to a reading from a book of sermons, her rosary beads in her hands, her expression remote. It occurred to Rosalind that since she’d been back at court, the king hadn’t once visited his wife even to share her bed. It was hardly surprising that the queen sought comfort in her religion and her few attendants.

She nodded and Elias laid the harp aside.At the door they bowed to the oblivious queen. Rosalind placed her hand on his slashed and beribboned blue sleeve and he escorted her into one of the courtyards.

“Sir Christopher has surprised me. I believed he would have some unusual abilities, but even I wasn’t sure exactly how they would manifest themselves.”

“You make him sound like an interesting experiment rather than a human being.”

Elias gave a soft laugh. “Well, he is rather unusual.” He glanced sideways at her as if daring her to ask why. She kept her gaze uninterested.

“Indeed. As I understand it, he springs from two ancient and well-respected cultures.”

Elias stopped walking and smiled at her. “He told you, then? About his birth.”

“What he told me is between us.” Rosalind stared down Elias.“However, I would like to know if his mother turned any other members of his family.”

“She did not.”

“Then what about the family of her lover? Christopher might be connected by blood to that family too. Do you know if any of those females might be at court?”

Elias considered for a moment and then nodded.“That is an excellent thought. I will look into it immediately.”

 

Christopher walked with Rhys to the stables and tried to concentrate on what the other man was saying. It was difficult when he was so exhausted from their night in the tunnels— and from struggling with his conscience over Rosalind.

“Was Rosalind all right? She does not… enjoy the darkness,” Rhys said as they passed the ruins of the Roman bathhouse.

Christopher forced himself to focus. “She was a little scared of the dark. She didn’t tell me why, but I found it quite surprising for such a bloodthirsty slayer.”

“She fell into an open grave one night. The Vampire she was chasing dragged her down under the mud and tried to suffocate her.” Rhys’s smile was wry.“She thinks I don’t know where her fear came from, so don’t tell her.”

Christopher sighed. “I’ll not tell her anything but what’s necessary to finish off this Vampire.”

“And then you will leave her alone.” It wasn’t a question.

“I will.” Christopher could not keep the pain out of his voice. “Rhys, the last time I suggested you were the only man I could bear to see with Rosalind, you tried to throttle me. But I need to know. Will you take care of her when I’m gone?”

“I told you that I would.”

“Even knowing what happened between us?”

Pain flashed in Rhys’s hazel eyes. “That doesn’t change anything. What occurred in the stone circle was willed by the gods. I can no more change their course or their actions than I can change the path of the sun or the moon.”

Christopher let out his breath. “I am glad to hear it. I truly am. I can’t change what happened either, nor would I want to. But I cannot marry her.” He sucked in an unsteady breath. “If there are consequences— — ”

“I’ll take care of Rosalind,” Rhys said.“I give you my word.”

Christopher gripped Rhys’s shoulder. “Thank you. She is… an extraordinary woman.”

“Aye.” Rhys started walking again. “She is very dedicated to our cause and one of the finest slayers I have ever trained with.”

“And a feisty, outspoken baggage,” Christopher added, his throat tight with a mixture of relief and the beginnings of grief. He had to let her go, and at least with Rhys she stood a chance of being happy.“I pity any man who takes her on.”

“Then pity me, Sir Christopher, because persuading her to marry me will be a Herculean task.” Rhys grimaced as they arrived at the queen’s quarters. “I think I’ll go back and try to sleep for a while. My shoulder is aching like the devil”— he gingerly touched the bruise on his cheek— “and my head is still ringing from the impact of that Vampire’s skull as he dropped down on me.”

“Then go and take your rest, and I’ll see you later.”

Christopher headed off toward the gentlemen’s sleeping quarters, his conscience, if not at rest, at least a little easier. The sooner they caught the Vampire, the sooner he could be gone from Rosalind’s life. And, as hard as that would be, the longer he waited, the worse it would get. He had no illusions now as to the bond that had formed between them. Letting her go would be like tearing his soul in two.

At least she would have Rhys… Tension knotted in Christopher’s gut at the very thought of Rhys bedding his woman. What would he have when she was gone? A Druid-hating family who treated him with suspicion, and a Vampire family who had abandoned him to his fate. Perhaps they were right and he simply didn’t deserve to be loved. He was tired of trying to please every one, of trying to be accepted. With a sigh, he shoved his ridiculously maudlin feelings to one side and concentrated on finding his way to bed. If they were to get rid of the Vampire and free them all from this hell, he needed his wits about him.

 

Rosalind was the first to arrive at the ruined bathhouse behind the stables. She sat down on a pile of bricks and contemplated her booted feet. She’d spent enough time crying over what she could never have. If her grandfather could see her now, red-eyed and despondent, he would surely be disappointed in her. It was time to move on, face her demons, and dispose of them.

“My lady.”

She looked up as Rhys and Christopher arrived together and managed to nod at them. The bruise on Rhys’s face had darkened and covered most of his left cheekbone, but he didn’t seem to be in pain. She avoided Christopher’s gaze. If he looked as wretched as she felt, it would undermine her resolve to appear unaffected, and if he looked as if nothing was wrong… that would probably be worse.

Rhys sat next to her and patted her knee. “So, tell us, have you a new idea for capturing this Vampire?”

Rosalind cleared her throat. “If Christopher and I can combine our thoughts, we might be able to summon the Vampire to us.”

“And then what?” Christopher asked.

“While we distract her, Rhys can kill her.”

“It sounds too easy— and far too dangerous,” Rhys said. “How do we know what effect summoning a Vampire of that power and age will have on you both? What if she is able to overpower your thoughts and take over your minds?”

Rosalind glanced up at him. “It is a risk we will have to take. We cannot allow this Vampire to get so close to the king again.”

“I agree,” Christopher answered.

Rhys pursed his lips and whistled. “Mayhap we can contain her powers by summoning her to the stone circle. Surely Druid magic will be in the ascendant there?”

“That might work.” Christopher nodded and looked directly at Rosalind. “Are you willing to risk it?”

She allowed herself to gaze at him, devoured his beautiful face, aware that if they succeeded, she would never be able to look so freely upon him again. He met her gaze head on, his blue eyes full of resignation and longing. He might hide it better, but she knew he was in as much pain as she was. And somehow, that was comforting.

Rosalind stood up. “Then let it be tonight.”

Chapter 19

I
t was cold within the stone circle, the space unwelcoming without the Beltaine fires and the presence of the gods. Rosalind shivered as she stepped over broken stones, fragments of animal bones, and oak tree roots that had forced their way through the perfection of the space. It was hard to imagine how the temple might have looked before the Romans came and destroyed everything in the name of Christianity.

“Wait.”

Rhys held up his hand as a slight noise rustled one of the rowan bushes to Rosalind’s left. She turned to face the threat and found Elias Warner at the pointed end of her dagger. He stuck out his tongue and touched the tip to the point of her blade.

“I am more than willing to share my blood with you, my lady,” Elias murmured. “You only have to ask.”

Rosalind flicked her wrist and brought her dagger down to her side. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. His green and silver jerkin matched almost perfectly with the ivy-clad stones. “The Vampire Council thought you might need me.” He shuddered extravagantly. “Although, as usual, your choice of venue leaves much to be desired.”

“We wish to catch the Vampire, that is all.”

“And you think you can trap her here? I wish you good luck.”

“But you are here to help us, aren’t you?” Rosalind smiled sweetly at Elias. “I’m sure you can think of several ways to block or control her power.”

“I’ll do my best. I am as eager to see her gone as you are.”

Rosalind headed toward the center of the circle, to the slab of rock fashioned into an altar. She placed her hand on the stone. It stirred beneath her touch as if it remembered her recent blood sacrifice. Christopher appeared beside her, dressed in his habitual black, his expression as solemn and steady as she assumed hers was.

“Should we hold hands?” he asked.

She didn’t want merely to touch his hand, here, where their bodies and minds had joined together; she wanted all of him. Emotion surged through her and she forced it down. There would be time to weep after they had caught the Vampire. “Yes, that sounds like an excellent idea.”

Christopher positioned himself opposite her, their hands linked together on top of the stone altar. Elias and Rhys took up stations at either end of the stone so that they formed the shape of a cross.

Elias chuckled and began to recite. “The kiss of the rose is death to kin. And three will stand alone.”

“Elias,” Rhys growled. “This isn’t a joke. If you don’t want to be here, then leave. Rosalind needs to concentrate.”

Elias’s smile died. “Master Williams, I don’t wish to be here at all. I suspect we shall regret this. But, like you, it seems I have no choice.”

Christopher squeezed Rosalind’s hand. “Shall we try, then?”

She met his calm gaze across the altar stone and nodded. “Yes.”

She closed her eyes and slowly allowed her mind to open and merge into Christopher’s, felt him do the same. Their thoughts flowed together as harmoniously as a river, light to dark, love to hate, despair through hope. What one of them lacked, the other supplied as if they effortlessly completed each other. When Rhys spoke, the sound was hollow, as if they were underwater.

“Command her with your blood, Sir Christopher,” he urged. “Call her to you. Help him, Rosalind.”

Rosalind took Christopher’s command and amplified it, sent it hurtling out into the night sky like a challenge. Around her, the stone circle seemed to echo the demand until she wanted to cover her ears. She felt the Vampire stir and then her startled response. A roaring sound filled her ears and she was aware of Christopher’s fingers slipping through hers. She tried to hold on to him, but he was gone, leaving her in the center of a swirling, screaming black vortex— and face-to-face with the Vampire.

It took all her courage and strength to look at the woman directly. She wasn’t particularly tall, and her long white hair was shrouded in a hooded black cloak that cast her features into shadow. Her body glimmered and shifted like a candle flame, as if she wasn’t quite whole, as if touching her would be impossible. For the first time, Rosalind doubted that a mortal weapon would have the ability to kill her. With a start she realized they were standing atop the altar, and she had no idea where the men were; she was cut off, inside the Vampire’s magic.

“So you thought to capture me, child?”

Rosalind fought the prickles of fear that ran along her skin as the Vampire spoke. The foreign sound was like dead leaves rustling on the pathways or fingernails scratching on glass.

BOOK: Kiss of the Rose
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