Read Mark of the Rose: The Tudor Vampire Chronicles Online

Authors: Kate Pearce

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fiction

Mark of the Rose: The Tudor Vampire Chronicles (12 page)

BOOK: Mark of the Rose: The Tudor Vampire Chronicles
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“My parents made that choice, not I.”
“But why?” Rhys shook his head. “The priests believed that Rosalind’s mark was an abnormality. They even argued whether to let her
live
. If they had known about you—”
“Then perhaps Rosalind’s life might have been easier?” Verity found herself glaring at him. Of course, his concern was all for Rosalind. “Why do you think my parents chose not to reveal mine? They didn’t want me to suffer as she did.” Verity finally managed to pull her hand free.
With an exasperated sound, Rhys cut through the rest of her sleeve and made a makeshift bandage to cover her palm. “I have a salve that will help your hand to heal. I’ll bring some for you as soon as I can.”
Verity nodded as her hand continued to throb in time with the erratic beats of her heart. She’d spent her whole life trying to conceal the mark of Awen, and to be discovered now—by Rhys, of all people—was a disaster.
She grabbed for his blood-splattered sleeve. “You must not tell anyone.”
“Verity, how can I not? You carry one of the most sacred marks of our religion.” He paused. “You also have a perfect right to be here guarding the king. Why didn’t you just show me the mark when I first doubted you?”
“Because I’ve spent years hiding it!” Verity hated the way her voice was trembling, but considering the day she had endured, she wasn’t really surprised.
“It’s all right,
cariad
.”
With a muttered curse, Rhys reached for her and brought her to sit in his lap. His arms closed around her, and even though he smelled horribly of Vampire she was still glad to be held.
He spoke against her hair. “I understand why your parents might have feared for your life when you were small, but once you were free of them, didn’t you want to tell the truth?”
“I was never free. I went from being their child to being Gareth’s wife. And then there was no chance for me at all.”
She felt Rhys tense. “Did your husband know of this?”
Verity closed her eyes. “He was a traditionalist who didn’t believe that women could be slayers. He forbade me to even talk to Rosalind and insisted that it would shame him if anyone knew I was so marked.”
Rhys picked up her right hand and brought it to his lips. “Your husband was a fool. It is an honor to be chosen by the gods.” He kissed her fingertips. “I am honored to fight beside you. You did well tonight.”
Verity looked up at him and saw the truth of his words in his direct gaze. “And I will learn to do even better.”
He smiled into her eyes and gently lifted her back onto her feet. “Your sleeves are ruined.”
Verity brought her hand to her mouth as she finally took stock of his appearance. “As is your beautiful new jerkin.”
He brushed halfheartedly at the drying blood. “Mayhap it can be saved; sometimes the Vampire blood just disappears in the daylight. Otherwise I’ll have the tailor make me another one.” He held out his arm. “I suggest you go and change and then return to the queen’s apartments. We don’t want to alarm her in her current condition.”
Verity almost complied before she realized he might be trying to distract her. “Rhys, you must promise not to tell anyone about me.”
Rhys halted. “I’m a loyal servant of your grandfather, my lady. How can I keep such a thing from him?”
“Because I ask it of you.”
“Verity, since Rosalind has been banished, there is no Llewellyn slayer to defend the king.”
“There is Jasper.”
“But only you have the mark of Awen. Don’t you want to take your rightful place?”
Verity stared at him. Did she? And did Rhys really think she was capable of it?
“I’m not Rosalind.”
His laugh was short. “On my honor, there is no danger of me confusing you with her.”
Resentment blossomed in her chest. “Of course there isn’t. I have none of her outstanding abilities, do I?”
He scowled at her. “Let us not make this personal. I am concerned about the good of our race. Denying your heritage affects more than just you and me. Knowing that another Druid bears the mark of Awen, and is at court protecting the king, would gladden all Druid hearts.”
“Even though that Druid is a female?”
His expression took on an obstinate turn. “They accepted Rosalind. They will accept you.”
Impulsively she reached out and cupped his cheek. “Can you at least wait until we have solved this problem with the queen? By then we should both have a fair idea whether I am worthy to be a Vampire slayer or not.”
“Verity—”
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Please, Rhys. I promise I will abide by your decision then.”
He removed her hand and stared down at her. “
If
we both survive to have that discussion.”
“If we don’t, then I wasn’t worthy of the job anyway, was I?” She stepped away from him and curtsied. “Good night, Sir Rhys.”
 
 
The clock struck midnight and Verity eased herself into a more comfortable position on the narrow straw-filled pallet. The lady-in-waiting who lay beside her in the queen’s antechamber was already fast asleep and Verity had no intention of waking her.
Verity had no problem staying awake. Her whole body was alert, thanks to her desire to safeguard the queen and the earlier fight with the two Vampires.
Not to mention her altercation with Rhys . . .
A single candle burned by the small window, casting flickering shadows on the paneled walls. The door to the bedchamber had been left ajar so that if Queen Jane needed anything she could call out to her ladies. It was so quiet that Verity could hear the queen’s even breathing. She glanced at the window and wondered whether Rhys was nearby. He’d told her that he intended to remain close.
Not that she wished to see Rhys Williams. His lofty demand that she reveal the mark of Awen to everyone terrified her. She’d spent years being told she should be ashamed of it, by her parents and then by her husband. Why should everything change now?
As Rhys had agreed, she wasn’t Rosalind. She never could be. Her cousin had stood up against the priests, the Elders, and even their grandfather and asserted her right to be a Vampire slayer. But Verity knew it had cost Rosalind dearly. She’d been forced to inhabit a world where she was mistrusted by many of her male peers and avoided by the females, who thought she had behaved in an unwomanly fashion.
For a long while, Verity
had
secretly wished she too could have Rosalind’s life—until she’d recognized the stark reality of Rosalind’s isolation. Even if it was a disloyal thought, she wasn’t surprised that Rosalind had found love outside the charmed circle of her Druid brethren.
A scratching noise made Verity open her eyes wide and slowly sit up. She held her breath as the sound grew louder and was followed by an ominous creak. She inhaled and caught the faint scent of pansies on her tongue, followed by something more male. She had to assume that more than one Vampire was approaching.
The candle flame flickered and went out, leaving her in complete darkness. She tensed as the hairs on her arm prickled and her head began to ache. Someone was using magic.
Verity felt for her dagger and crawled slowly toward the half-open door that led to the queen’s bedchamber. She could only hope that whoever was inside the room didn’t have a candle, or they would easily see her pale nightgown.
Hardly daring to breathe, Verity used the heavy oak side table next to the door to lever herself up a little. There was no sound of voices from inside the room, which only affirmed her suspicions that whoever was there was up to no good.
She strained her eyes and tried to make out the ghostly shapes that now hovered around the queen’s bed. The sharp sweet tang of blood assaulted her senses, along with the gentle sound of sucking.
There was no time to call Rhys. She would have to go into the chamber and find out exactly what was going on. Verity slowly stood up and then froze as a heavily beringed hand descended on her shoulder.
“Lady Verity, what are you doing?”
Verity’s breath hissed out as she realized it was Lady Rochford, dressed in her night robe and covered by a shawl. She managed to slip her dagger back into her hanging pocket.
“Oh, thank goodness it is you, Lady Rochford! The candle went out and I thought the queen called out to me. I was just trying to find my way across to her in the dark.”
Lady Rochford tugged at Verity’s arm and marched her away from the queen’s bedchamber. Verity waited as Lady Rochford relit the candle and held it up to Verity’s face. “Let’s go together and see how the queen fares, shall we?”
Verity accepted that she had no choice in the matter and dutifully followed Lady Rochford into the queen’s bedchamber. There was no sign of anyone apart from Queen Jane, who lay on her back, apparently sleeping peacefully, the mound of her belly visible beneath the thin linen sheet.
Lady Rochford put the candle down and glared at Verity. “Her Majesty is fast asleep. You must have been dreaming.”
“Perhaps I was, my lady.” Verity studied the queen and noticed how shallow her breathing was. The scent of blood hung over the bed like a pall. She leaned closer and identified two neat puncture marks at the base of the queen’s throat.
Before she could do more, Lady Rochford took her by the elbow and led her back out into the antechamber. The scent of blood was replaced by the scent of foxgloves and Verity took an unsteady breath.
“You may retire, Lady Verity. I will stay with the queen for the rest of the night.”
Verity curtsied. “There is no need, my lady. I’ll stay.”
Lady Rochford’s dark eyes narrowed. “You take your duties very seriously, Lady Verity.”
“Of course I do.” Verity opened her eyes wide. “I would do anything to protect the queen and the heir, wouldn’t you?” She paused to make sure that Lady Rochford understood her. It seemed the time for subterfuge was already past. “I would particularly hate to have to worry the king.”
“As if the king would care for anything you had to say about the matter,” Lady Rochford sneered.
Verity smiled. “You might be surprised by how seriously the king takes my warnings.”
“If you bother the king, I will ask Queen Jane to dismiss you.”
“I would advise you not to meddle, Lady Rochford. The king will not countenance my removal.”
Lady Rochford gasped and pressed a hand to her chest. “Are you suggesting you are on
intimate
terms with the king, Lady Verity?”
“It depends how you choose to define ‘intimate.’” Verity held Lady Rochford’s gaze. “I am, after all, a Llewellyn.”
Lady Rochford sucked in a breath. “Just because your family is Welsh doesn’t mean the king owes you any special favors.”
Verity contented herself with another confident smile and returned to her pallet and her still sleeping companion. Magic was definitely in the air if the woman had slept through her confrontation with Lady Rochford.
“Good night, Lady Rochford.”
With a last indignant twitch of her skirts, Lady Rochford walked away, leaving Verity to her vigil. Verity shivered as she stared through the darkness at the queen’s door. Stripped of the perfume she normally wore during the day, Lady Rochford had revealed herself to be what Verity and the other women had feared: a Vampire.
But it wasn’t her scent Verity had detected in the queen’s bedchamber. There had been at least two Vampires in the room. She wrinkled her nose as she tried to recall the faint scents. One had been female, the other far more unpleasant and almost familiar. She fought back a wave of nausea. She had to assume it was a male. And then there had been that sense of strong magic. Had that come from yet another Vampire?
Verity wrapped her arms around her knees and swallowed hard. Things were indeed precarious for Queen Jane and her unborn child.
She opened her hanging pocket and took out her dagger, which she laid beside her pallet, followed by her rosary. There was no point in pretending she would sleep again this night. Her fingers closed around the familiar amber beads and she began to pray.
Chapter 9
 
W
hile he waited for the others to appear, Rhys paced the uneven stone-and-tile floor of the ruined Roman bathhouse on the outskirts of the palace grounds. It was almost midnight, but thanks to the full moon he was able to see quite clearly. He was wary of meeting both his Vampire allies and Verity in the same place, but he had no choice. Verity’s message had insisted on it.
Whatever had happened last night had obviously alarmed her enough to include Elias and Olivia. Rhys frowned down at his boots. He’d seen Verity briefly that morning when she accompanied the queen to the chapel, so he knew she was unharmed. Frustration burned in his gut. If he had his way he’d send her home and keep her safe. But she bore the mark of Awen. It was his duty to make sure that she learned all the skills necessary to honor her ancient calling as a slayer.
BOOK: Mark of the Rose: The Tudor Vampire Chronicles
8.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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