Kiss of the Rose (7 page)

“And you probably hoped it would send me running home to Pembrokeshire.”

His smile this time was slow and full of speculation. “I’m glad you didn’t run. I’ll enjoy watching you and Sir Christopher match wits.”

Rosalind curtsied. “Thank you for escorting me back to the palace, Master Warner. I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

He laughed and held the door open for her.“I’m sure we will. Good morning.”

She let out her breath. Elias Warner must be a very old Vampire to be so unafraid of the daylight. He reminded her of a predator.All that genial amiability concealed a ruthless streak that found it amusing to leave a blood-drenched rose in her bed. She debated returning to the stables to seek out Rhys, but she’d managed to part with him amicably and had no wish to incur his displeasure by admitting she’d bumped into another of her enemies without a dagger in her hand.

At least Rhys had found them somewhere to train, and had agreed to meet with her later that night to sort through their collection of weapons. That made her feel far more secure.

“Good morning, Lady Rosalind. How was your ride?”

Rosalind raised her eyes heavenward and wondered whether she was destined to meet all her foes in one morning.

“Sir Christopher.”

He smiled at her and her suspicion was immediately aroused. Under his black velvet gown, he wore a dark blue silk jerkin embroidered with silver that complemented his eyes far too well. “Would you care to join me in the great hall for something to break your fast?”

“Unfortunately, I’m late for Mass. The queen is expecting me.” She curtsied and started walking toward the distant chapel where a few late stragglers slipped through the still open doors.

“I’ll accompany you, then.”

Rosalind gave him an irritated glance as he increased his pace and came up alongside her. “Are you sure you won’t be struck down if you try to enter a church?”

“I was about to ask you the same question.” His quick grin almost made her smile back. “It is Vampires who avoid sanctified spaces, not Druid hunters, though I understand that even some Vampires can tolerate them for a short while.”

“As long as they don’t try to partake of the Blessed Sacrament or cross themselves with Holy Water.”

He looked down at her, his blue eyes serious. “I’ve seen Vampires do those things as well. Some of them still believe in God.”

She bit back her reply as they reached the queen’s chapel, and Sir Christopher held the door open for her. The Mass had already started and the familiar smells of incense and melting candle wax surrounded them. Rosalind saw the queen and a group of her older ladies-in-waiting at the front of the church. Considering how large the court was, she was surprised at the poor showing. Did the younger members of the court stay away or worship elsewhere? It was yet another sign of the queen’s waning influence.

Sir Christopher took her elbow and maneuvered her into a pew near the back, then slid in beside her. He knelt down, clasped his hands together, and bent his dark head, the very picture of pious reverence. Rosalind sighed and tried to attend to her prayers, which was difficult when her mind refused to stop thinking about her meeting with Elias Warner and the intentions of the Vampire Council.

When they sat down on the hard pew to listen to the priest, Sir Christopher turned his head so that his lips brushed her hair. “I saw you talking to Elias Warner.”

“Is that why you sought me out? To discover what he said to me?”

“I can guess what he said. Surely the question is, what are we going to do about it?”

“
We?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to cooperate with the likes of you. I’m here to kill a Vampire, and you’re here to stop me.”

The priest raised his hands and the congregation stood to receive the final blessing. Rosalind barely managed to make the sign of the cross before Sir Christopher grabbed her hand and towed her out of the church. He kept walking until they rounded the chapel and were bathed in the shadows of the small graveyard. He let go of her hand and swung around to face her.

“What if I said you were wrong?”

Rosalind stared up at him. “Why would I believe that? I don’t trust you, you don’t like me, and most important, I am perfectly capable of catching any rogue Vampire by myself.”

Sir Christopher’s expression darkened. “What exactly did Elias tell you?”

“He simply introduced himself and told me that he represented the Vampire Council at court.When I questioned him about the corpses, he was remarkably evasive. But that was to be expected.” Rosalind watched Sir Christopher carefully. “I should imagine he is extremely old and experienced, and if he has served the Council for this long, he must have exceptional skills.”

“I’d agree with that.”

“I wish I knew,” Rosalind said slowly, “what he’s really after. Whatever he says, there must be something more to it than that, because why else would my family and yours be sent back to court? Both of us arriving within days of each other is no mere coincidence.”

“I’d also agree with that.” Sir Christopher sighed. “What I can tell you is that the Vampire Council
is
concerned about the corpses. They asked me to investigate and determine whether this is Druid’s work or Vampire.”

Rosalind snorted. “Definitely Vampire.”

“Are you sure? Isn’t it the Druids who drain their sacrifices dry for their pagan rites? Vampires take only the blood they need to survive.”

Rosalind glared at him. “I haven’t seen one of these corpses, but the king believes the victim found in his bedchamber had been bitten by something. And let me reassure you that human sacrifice is no longer a part of the Druid religion.”

He took off his hat and shoved a hand through his hair. “We still might be dealing with a rogue Druid who prefers the old ways.”

“Or more likely, a Vampire who simply likes to kill his victims.”

His intense blue gaze met and locked with hers. “Which is why I suggest we work together. The court is large; we will be more efficient if we divide the work and share information.”

“And I repeat, I don’t want to work with you.”

“Why not?” He studied her for a long moment.“I can protect you from harm.”

Rosalind took a step toward him.“I do not need protecting.” He had the audacity to grin and she fought off a desire to slap his face. “And I do not need your help.”

He reached for her hand and his strong warm fingers closed over hers, making her skin tingle. “At least think about it, will you? Even though I detest your faith, I’d hate to see a pretty young woman like you overestimate her abilities and end up dead.”

Rosalind pulled out of his grasp and curtsied.“Thank you for your confidence in me. I’ll let you know when I’ve killed your Vampire and you can report back to your masters at the Council.”

His expression hardened.“They are not my ‘masters.’ We simply share a common enemy— you.”

“An enemy you have almost completely destroyed.” He didn’t have anything to say to that, and Rosalind’s anger grew. “We are few in number, and wish only to practice our faith in our own way. Why do you still hunt us?”

He shrugged.“We are all bound by the vows we take, Lady Rosalind.”

“Even if those vows are outdated and cruel?”

A muscle flicked in his cheek. “Even then. Please think about what I have said.”

Rosalind stalked away, aware that her hair was coming loose again and that she needed to go back to her bedchamber and get properly dressed for the day with the queen. She also wanted to ponder Sir Christopher’s extraordinary offer. Did he really think she’d sob gratefully at his feet while he saved her from the evil Vampires?

She ground her teeth so hard it hurt. She was tired of being underestimated and was ready to show her mettle. Tonight, she would get a chance to spar with Rhys and ready herself for the battle with her foe. For now, she had to dress in one of her prettiest gowns and accompany the queen to a musical concert. Her life might be full of contrasts, but she could never forget her true mission. With or without Christopher’s help, she would track down the rogue Vampire and kill it.

Chapter 5

“T
ry it again.”

Rosalind gripped the handle of her sword until her fingers hurt and stepped forward, the tip of the blade extended to kiss Rhys’s. She focused on mirroring his delicate forays and avoiding his more obvious invitations to lunge for his heart and forget everything she had learned.

Her arm ached from holding up the heavy sword and she was perspiring, but she was not prepared to give up. Sir Christopher’s patronizing blue gaze filled her mind and she concentrated even harder, saw the slight hesitation in Rhys’s guard and went for the kill. The tip of her blade sliced through the linen of Rhys’s shirt right over his heart.

He put up his sword and grinned at her. “That was much better. Now let’s change weapons and concentrate on dagger play.”

Rosalind paused to sheathe her sword and wipe the sweat from her brow. The abandoned stone cellar Rhys had discovered was the deepest cellar of the old palace. To reach it, they had to descend two flights of narrow stairs concealed within the queen’s chapel. It was certainly secure, but it was also stuffy and damp.

Rosalind was used to hunting Vampires, and being underground didn’t bother her much. But the thickness of the walls and the silence were oppressive. She was just glad Rhys had provided plenty of light. He didn’t know how afraid she was of the darkness, ever since she’d fallen into an open grave and almost drowned when the Vampire had risen from the depths of the mud-filled hole and pinned her beneath him. She still had nightmares of being smothered.

Rhys tossed her a dagger and she tried not to groan. She would receive no quarter if she complained or begged for a respite.

Rhys waited until she stepped fully into the light of the circle of candles and bowed. His auburn hair gleamed, his smile taunted her. “Ready?”

Rosalind gathered what remained of her strength and took up her fighting stance. She watched with a practiced eye as he began to circle her. She might not know what to think of Rhys as a potential husband, but in this arena, he was certainly her master.

When Rhys finally sent her on her way, she was so weary she barely managed to fit her feet onto the curved stone steps that went up toward the chapel. Narrow cracks of light from above showed through the wellfitting flagstone that concealed the second set of stairs she ascended. They followed the same spiral pattern as the exposed staircase to the crypt, but came out under the flagstones rather than in the wall. She raised her arms above her head and heaved up the stone, her wellused muscles trembling with the effort to shift it. When she’d scrambled to her feet and replaced the stone, she paused at the exit to the stairwell.

She heard nothing except a barn owl in the distance and the shrill call of a peacock closer by. Rhys would conceal their hiding space and gather the weapons so that no one would ever guess their purpose in the cellar. Rosalind patted the pocket of her jerkin and withdrew her favorite dagger. At least she was armed now, although concealing such a weapon during the day while wearing her cumbersome skirts always proved difficult. She much preferred the freedom of the men’s hose, boots, and shirt she wore for her nighttime exploits.

As there was no sound of Rhys emerging from below, Rosalind decided not to wait for him and to make her way back to the palace alone. Her eyes were now accustomed to the dark, and there was just enough moonlight to see the well-trodden path between the chapel and the queen’s chambers.

Rosalind set off, her dagger in her hand, her gaze focused on her goal. After only a few steps, she became aware of a disturbance in the air, the sense of a threat, and the vivid stench of fresh blood. She slipped behind the nearest tree and stayed still, tried to breathe through her nose and seek the Vampire’s scent, but there was nothing…

She debated moving onward. Perhaps an animal had recently killed rather than a Vampire. She took another long, slow breath and summoned her ability to pick up the resonance of a Vampire kill and the scent of death.

No, not an animal. She might not smell anything specific, but something was wrong. Something lay dying, bleeding, and screaming, if only in the echoes of her mind. Was it possible that Sir Christopher was right, and it wasn’t a Vampire, but a Druid killing humans? She angled her head until she could just see the moonlit path.A blur of movement up ahead made her heart beat faster.

There was something or somebody there. Were they waiting for her, or had she inadvertently stumbled upon the very Vampire she sought? She glanced down at the cut her practice had bestowed on her wrist, and blotted it against her shirt. She had no desire to offer her own blood as a Vampire lure. Using the oak trees lining the path as cover, she slowly made her way toward the shimmering black form that edged closer to the queen’s chambers with every heartbeat.

The smell of blood grew stronger, so strong that Rosalind felt as if she were drowning in it. A jagged red line of spilled blood leaked from the Vampire’s prize and marred the perfection of the flagstones. A vivid reminder that whatever was up ahead had killed once, and would have no qualms about killing again.

A slight movement to her left had Rosalind bringing her dagger up and spinning to face the new threat. Even though she had her blade at his throat, Sir Christopher didn’t flinch as he brought his finger to his lips and shook his head. He wore dull black hose, a leather jerkin, and a cloak devoid of decoration. She glared at him for a moment and then returned her attention to the creature by the palace walls. She had to get closer, and that meant crossing the path and finding shelter in the bushes nearest the wall.

She took off at a run, her tired limbs full of energy again, her hunting instincts on fire. The bushes were dense and woody and smelled strongly of rosemary, which helped drown out the scent of blood, but hindered Rosalind as she frantically tried to sniff out the Vampire’s identity.

Sir Christopher arrived in the bushes behind her, but she didn’t spare him a glance. At least he was quiet. The hooded figure seemed to be doing something to one of the windows, perhaps trying to open it to get in. Rosalind squinted at the indistinct form. Why was it so hard to see exactly what she was facing? It was almost as if the Vampire had the power to distort her reality. With a quick prayer to all her gods, Rosalind gathered herself to run again.