Kiss of the Rose (8 page)

She’d barely managed three strides when a wave of darkness slammed into her like a closing door and knocked her off her feet. Above her, a black vortex swirled and screamed, sucking the air into its depths and momentarily depriving her of her senses. She wanted to clap her hands over her ears to shut out the appalling noise, but it seemed to be inside her head. She felt rather than saw Sir Christopher grab her around the waist and bring her completely to the ground. Her cheek hit the stone paving as she was flattened under the weight of his far heavier body.

Her dagger was still in her hand and she struggled to move her arm, to bring it up and stick the blade into his flesh. At that moment she didn’t care where. He placed his hand over her wrist and with an expert twist, held her fingers immobile until she dropped her weapon. Above the scent of rosemary and Vampire, she smelled his breath, the freshness of the apple he’d recently eaten, and a hint of spiced cologne. She focused on breathing him in, and not on the dark, disorientating magic around her that continued to confuse her senses.

The chaotic roaring noise inside her head abated, and she was able to hear again. Both the black fog and the Vampire had gone.

Christopher grabbed her by the shoulder and rolled her onto her back, his lower body still straddling hers, his hands planted on either side of her head.

“What in God’s teeth were you doing?”

“Trying to kill a Vampire.What were you doing?” She shoved at his chest, but he didn’t let her up. “I knew you were lying about wanting this monster dead.”

“I wasn’t lying.”

“Then why did you stop me?”

He glared down at her. “Because…”

“Because?”

“
Because
that was an extremely old Vampire. Didn’t you feel it? I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Rosalind studied his enraged expression.Was it likely that he had tried to protect her, or was he merely trying to conceal the truth?

“I’m glad you finally admit it’s a Vampire we’re after. And I’ll assume you’re right about its age. I can’t judge that very accurately except through scent. The older the Vampire, the better they are at concealing themselves.” She realized she was babbling.

Although she’d often fought with Rhys and been put on her back, the pressure of Christopher’s muscular body over hers made her feel quite strange. Her heart was beating too hard and her breathing was ragged. She shifted restlessly, her hips arching upward. “Now will you please get off me?”

Christopher lowered his gaze to her body, her unbuttoned jerkin, the dark linen of her shirt, and the black hose and supple leather boots. She made a comely boy. Her legs were just as long as he had imagined them. She wiggled again, and his body reacted far too favorably.

“But I like you on your back,” he said. “Aren’t you going to thank me for saving your life?”

“You wretched dog…” she spluttered.

He raised his eyebrows. “I beg your pardon?”

“You didn’t save me.You obstructed me, because you can’t bear to watch even one of those monsters die.”

His smile faded. “I’ve seen them die. We Ellises have been called on before to dispose of rogue Vampires.”

She gazed up at him, her brown eyes full of fire. “All I know of your family is that you murder mine.”

He held her gaze. “Nonetheless, we still must work together.”

“If this is your idea of working together, we’re never going to catch anything except a cold from rolling around in the morning dew.”

“I wouldn’t object to rolling around with you at all.” He rocked his hips against hers, wondered if she was aware of the thick length of his cock pressing against the soft wool of her hose.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.”

He admired her spirit even as he deplored it. Couldn’t she see that they needed each other? He took a deep breath and tried to be reasonable. “Pray reconsider your decision.This Vampire is so powerful that not even Elias Warner knows who it is or how to stop it. We cannot afford to argue. We must prevent it from killing the innocent.”

She stared up at him, her teeth worrying her lush lower lip. He wanted to replace her teeth with his own, to devour her mouth, and show her just how much she needed him… in
so
many ways.

“Rosalind…”

He lowered his head and she brought her elbow up and almost broke his nose.As he recoiled, she rolled out from under him, dagger at the ready, and swiped at his chest. Christopher managed to find his feet a second before she did, and blocked the blow.

She stepped out of reach, her expression furious, and he couldn’t help laughing. He held out his hands. “My lady, there is no need to— ”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before she launched herself at him, feet aimed at his torso, and kicked his dagger out of his hand. Her forward motion brought her down on his chest and they fell back on the ground entangled together in a heap. As Christopher fought to get on top of her and regain his superior position, he heard someone clearing his throat. Christopher looked up and groaned. Rosalind’s groom stood there, a sword pointed at Christopher’s heart, his stance all business.

“May I suggest you get off my lady, sir?”

Christopher climbed off Rosalind and snatched up the dagger she’d knocked from his hand. Ignoring Rhys, he repeated, “Please think on what I’ve said.”

She rose to her feet, patted at her clothing, and ignored him in return. “Rhys, we need to see what happened to the Vampire’s prey.”

Christopher frowned. “It’s all right. I can do that.”

“We don’t need your help, Sir Christopher.”

“I’m not leaving you two to investigate on your own. Perhaps, if it won’t upset your delicate sensibilities, Lady Rosalind, we should all go?”

“I’ve seen dead bodies before,” she snapped. She glanced at Rhys. “The Vampire was over by the palace wall.”

He nodded, his gaze flicking between Christopher and his mistress. “I know. I felt something very powerful.”

They all walked toward the wall where the Vampire had last been seen. Bloodstains marred the creamy stone, but there was no sign of a corpse. Rhys frowned.

“Are you certain there was a body?”

“Absolutely.” Christopher nodded. “When the Vampire used his magic to hold back Lady Rosalind, he must have managed to escape with his prize.” He murmured a quick prayer for the poor dead soul. “I wonder where the body will turn up this time.”

Rosalind shivered and glanced up at him. “I hope it isn’t in my bed. Margaret would never recover from waking up with a corpse.”

Christopher took off his cloak and dropped it over her shoulders. To his surprise, she didn’t bother to pro-test his kindness. He took a moment to trade glances with Rhys and discovered that his considerate behavior was not appreciated.“Shall we escort Lady Rosalind back to her chamber?”

Rhys bowed. “It’s all right, sir. I’ll see to my lady.”

After all the excitement, Christopher wasn’t willing to get into a brawl with the man now. “Then I will bid you both good night.” He nodded at Rosalind. “Think about what I said.”

She nodded, her gaze serious and her face smudged with dirt. For some ridiculous reason, he yearned to touch her grazed cheek, to apologize for having thrown her to the ground so roughly. Instead he bowed and turned back toward his quarters. When he’d seen the dark Vampire magic surround her, he’d acted on instinct to protect her. But Rosalind Llewellyn had Rhys Williams to aid her, and scarcely needed his help. And why would he want to help her anyway? She was the enemy.

He shivered as the wind picked up, and rued his gallantry and the loss of his fur-lined cloak. It was supposed to be spring, but the April breezes felt as bitterly cold as those of winter. For once, the entrance to the men’s quarters was dark and deserted and he was able to reach his small room without attracting any attention. Despite his concern for Rosalind, he couldn’t help remembering how quickly she’d had a dagger at his throat. It appeared the lady had sharp claws after all.

He paused before he opened the door, glad that he slept alone. He had no wish to speak to anyone. He realized that he was far too agitated to go in and take his rest, so with a sigh, he went back down the stairs and stared out at the night sky. He estimated there were still several hours until dawn. Shaking off his apprehension, he headed back to the queen’s chapel where he’d first spotted Rosalind earlier that night. Mayhap he’d use his time to see if he could ascertain exactly what she’d been doing there with her servant in the middle of the night.

Not that he believed Rhys Williams was anybody’s servant. The man was far too confrontational to appear as anything less than what he was— a Vampire hunter in his physical prime. A man who also had a rather proprietary air when it came to Rosalind Llewellyn. Christopher studied the arch-shaped door of the chapel. It was highly likely that the two were lovers as well as fellow Vampire hunters.

He grimaced as he recalled the recent subtle pressure on him to wed a distant cousin of his uncle’s wife. Marrying your own kind was encouraged. He supposed it was the same for the Druids.

The main door wasn’t locked, and Christopher made his way into the vestibule, caught the acrid smell of snuffed-out candles and nothing more sinister. There were two additional doors in the small space, one that led into the main church. He cautiously opened that door and peered down the brightly painted nave, past the massed ranks of candles and the gold rood screen. He could see nothing out of the ordinary.

He focused his attention on the other door. He suspected it went down to the cellars and crypts below the church. Of course, when he tried the latch it refused to open. He contemplated the thickness of the wood and knew he stood no chance of breaking through it unless he used an ax. Desecrating church property was hardly going to win him any friends in the church or at court. Whatever Rosalind and her surly groomsman were up to, they had it well concealed. He would have to catch them entering the door to have any chance of success.

With a frustrated sigh, he turned to go, annoyed with himself for even imagining that the Druids would make it easy for him. In the flickering candlelight he suddenly noticed a small carving in the stone lintel above the main door. He reached up his hand and traced the Druid symbol of Awen, three dots and three lines coming down from them like rays of light. The carving was old, the lines smooth to the touch, so it hadn’t been put there by Rhys or Lady Rosalind.

Christopher frowned. It seemed that his current foes weren’t the first to take advantage of the trusting nature of the Christian Church. And that was the real problem, wasn’t it? The roots of Druidism were enmeshed so tightly with Christianity that it wasn’t surprising the two often coexisted rather than clashed. The unlikely battle lines of his particular struggle had been drawn centuries ago, the Christian church and the Druids on one side, and the Roman cult of Mithras and the Vampires on the other.

He’d joined the Cult of Mithras with great anticipation, only to find that the sect had moved far beyond its original purpose of destroying the Druid race. Its main focus these days seemed to be following the Vampire Council’s orders rather than making decisions for itself. He had grown to hate it, hated his younger self for being so impressionable and eager to enlist in such a violent struggle.

With a final glance over his shoulder, Christopher retreated to his quarters. Even vows made in haste were for life, and he was well and truly caught. Rosalind Llewellyn’s declaration that the Druids no longer made human sacrifices added to his own suspicions, and made it even harder to justify his hate. He scowled into the darkness, which had lifted just enough to illuminate the dainty touch of frost on the grass and spiderwebs. He needed his wits around him, and speculating about the Druids was not helpful. The Vampires needed his protection. That fact was an absolute truth and it had to sustain him.

He opened the door to his room, and went still as he registered a shadowy figure sitting in the single chair. He drew his dagger and inhaled slowly, catching the unmistakable coppery tang of blood.

“Roper, is that you?” he murmured.

There was no answer, and Christopher fumbled with a flint to strike a spark to light the candle beside his bed. He wasn’t too surprised to see a corpse with deep puncture wounds in his throat staring sightlessly back at him. He held the candle high and walked around the body. Unlike the other corpse, this man looked like a gentleman, his flabby belly and soft skin more fitted to an indolent existence than a peasant’s harsh life in the fields.

Was someone missing this man? Did he have a wife and family somewhere in the countryside anxiously awaiting his return from court, or was he a gentleman of the king’s chamber? Christopher leaned in to study the man’s fat fingers, and noticed a signet ring on his right hand. Perhaps the crest could be used to identify the Vampire’s victim.

He took a few steps backward and considered the message the body in his room was meant to convey. A warning of some kind? But whether it was to dissuade him from hunting the rogue Vampire, or from getting too close to Rosalind Llewellyn, he couldn’t tell.

It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to stop now. His mission was far too important.

“Sir, is that you?”

Christopher turned to find Roper at his elbow, and for once, was more than glad to see him. He raised the candle so that Roper could see the ghastly figure in the chair. “We need to get rid of that.”

Roper didn’t even blink.“Aye, sir, we do. I’ll call Murray and Douglas.”

“The man is wearing a signet ring. Perhaps you might make some discreet inquiries as to his identity to aid the authorities.” Christopher shut the door behind them as they left the room. “I think I’ll go and sleep in the great hall or the stables.”

Roper nudged him and winked. “I’m sure you can do better than that, sir. A nice armful of warm wanton like that Betsy who changes the bed linen. I’m sure she’d welcome you.”

“I don’t think so, Roper. I’ve had enough excitement for one night.” The only bed he was interested in crawling into was Rosalind’s and he hardly imagined he’d be welcome there. She’d most likely slit his throat. “Good night and thank you.”