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 (29 page)

BOOK: Mark of the Rose: The Tudor Vampire Chronicles
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Elias sighed and moved his head until his mouth brushed her questing fingers. She felt his teeth scrape against her skin as he kissed her hand, and suddenly she was ravenous. She reared over him and plunged her elongated fangs into his throat. He didn’t resist her, just let himself fall onto the bed beside her and slid his hand into her unbound hair.
“Ah, God,” he groaned as she continued to suck. The strength of his blood coursed through her like a fine wine and she felt more powerful than she ever had before. She crouched over him, one hand splayed on his chest, the other curved around the back of his head.
And then he disappeared and Rhys was with her, his eyes hard and tinged with red, his hand fisted in her hair as he rolled her onto her back. It was her turn to cry out as he punctured her throat with his fangs and drank deep. She struggled, but his strength kept her immobile beneath him. His knee worked between her thighs and she pushed hard at his chest. She didn’t want this! She didn’t want
him
! She screamed and felt herself falling . . .
 
“Verity!”
She heard the voice calling her name, but she didn’t want to open her eyes. She was afraid of what she would see. When someone touched her shoulder, she rolled away and curled up into a tight ball.
“Verity?”
Rhys bent over her and stroked her hair. She flinched. “Don’t touch me!”
He sank down beside her and she could hear the worry in his voice. “Are you all right?”
She couldn’t speak to him yet, not with the image of him rearing over her and taking her blood while he tried to . . . Bile rose in her throat and she fought down an urge to retch. But that hadn’t been him, had it? He was no Vampire and neither was she.
Verity opened her eyes and slowly sat up. This time Rhys didn’t try to touch her—he just stayed where he was, his gaze watchful and concerned. She wiped her mouth with her shaking hand and discovered that Olivia and Elias were also kneeling on the ground, staring at her.
“Did I ruin everything?”
“You didn’t ruin anything, my lady.”
Elias looked at her steadily and she couldn’t help but recall the love on his face as he’d willingly allowed her to take his blood. She might have been dreaming. Yet she had the sensation that she had witnessed one of his most private and cherished memories.
“According to Olivia, we all fell to the ground within moments of one another. I have to assume that when our blood had bonded sufficiently, we were released from the link.” Elias turned to Rhys. “Do you remember what happened, Sir Rhys?”
Rhys shoved a hand through his hair. “It was as if I stepped into a nightmare and became a Vampire.”
“Me?”
“No, the other Vampire. I felt like we were sharing one mind, and I feared he would take me over completely. But now I think that was just his final desperate attempt to stop what was happening.” Rhys lifted his hand to his left shoulder. “I feel exhausted, but I’m not in pain anymore.”
Olivia clapped her hands. “That is excellent news.”
“Indeed it is,” Elias agreed. For the first time ever, Rhys noticed he looked tired. “And now I need to go and feed before I fade away to nothing.”
Rhys stood and grasped Elias by the hand to bring him to his feet. “I cannot thank you enough for what you did for me.”
Elias grimaced. “Don’t be too hasty with your gratitude, Sir Rhys. I’m not quite sure what we have achieved or what the repercussions of having this strange mixture of blood in our veins will be.”
“I’m not sure either, but at this moment I am simply glad to be free of the Vampire’s deadly taint.”
“Then let’s hope such good fortune stays with all of us,” Elias murmured.
Rhys took Olivia’s hand and kissed it. “Thank you, my lady.”
She smiled and handed him the dagger. “I did naught but make sure none of you cracked your heads on the altar.”
“And you sealed our wounds—at least I think that was you.”
“It was.” She hesitated, her voice soft. “Your blood already smells different.”
“Then let us hope for success.”
She nodded at him shyly and turned to follow Elias out of the stone circle, leaving Rhys alone with Verity. He cast another worried glance in her direction. When he’d touched her she’d recoiled from him as if he were the devil. Had she dreamed as he had, and if so, what had she seen that had put such terror into her?
He sat down cross-legged on the ground opposite her and waited to see if she would look at him. His throat was parched and he wished he had something to drink. He felt strangely lethargic and leaned his head back against the comforting bulk of the upright stone. His eyes started to close.
“In your nightmare, you were a Vampire?” Verity asked.
He struggled to open his eyes. “Aye.”
She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin on them. “So was I. I dreamed I was drinking Elias’s blood and then . . .” She shuddered.
“You dreamed of Elias too?” Rhys said. “In my nightmare we were trying to rip out each other’s throat.” He chuckled faintly. “I have never seen anything quite so terrifying as Elias in full fighting form. Were you fighting him as well?”
“No.” She looked away. “The only person I was fighting was you, Rhys.”
“In your dreams?” She nodded and he tensed. “Did I hurt you?”
“You were sucking my blood and then you tried . . .” She shook her head and then to his surprise met his gaze, her eyes widening. “Well, it was like my husband when he was drunk and wanted his conjugal rights.”
Everything in Rhys stilled. “He
forced
himself on you?”
“He was my husband. It was his right. You know that.”
Rhys bit out a curse. The desire to find the grave of Verity’s husband and kill him all over again rose sharply in him. With such a cruel husband, it wasn’t really surprising that she was so set against marriage.
A cool breeze threaded its way through the stones and Rhys shivered. They both needed to get back to the palace and sleep. He tried to imagine mounting his horse and groaned at the mere thought of it.
“We need to return to Hampton Court, my lady. In such a reduced train, we will be missed.”
Verity smothered a yawn behind her hand. “I almost wish Olivia and Elias had used their magic to transport us back.”
Rhys stood, using the stone as a prop. To his dismay, the ground tipped up to meet him and he had to keep holding on. “Elias was in no condition to use magic, and Olivia probably isn’t strong enough yet. We’ll just have to manage for ourselves.”
He walked across to Verity and held out his hand. To his immense relief, this time she didn’t shrink back from him; instead she accepted his help. Rhys made sure the small fire he had built was completely out and scattered the ashes in the breeze with a prayer of thanks to the gods.
Climbing up the slope of the valley required a huge effort of will. He and Verity ended up with their arms around each other’s waist for support. Artio whickered a welcome as Rhys approached. He was deeply glad that the horses had stayed put.
Verity pulled on his sleeve, her face almost as pale as his. “I’m not sure I have the strength to ride by myself. Could we ride together?”
“I think that’s an excellent idea.” He would be able to hold her in his arms once more and that made the prospect even more enticing. “Mayhap we can prevent each other from falling off. I’ll tie the other horse to the back of my saddle.”
Her smile was as weary as his, but at least he was alive. Only the gods knew what effect the new blood would have on him and the others, but he felt as if a shadow had been lifted and he breathed deeply of the night air.
With some strategic help from Verity, he managed to mount Artio and then leaned down to help her up. She gripped his right hand and stood on his foot to pull herself up. Even though he felt the wrench in his left shoulder, it was not nearly as painful as it had once been. Verity settled herself in front of him and he reached around her to gather the reins in his right hand.
She sighed and leaned back against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and clicked to Artio to walk on. He had no idea what time it was, but he wasn’t going to hurry. A gentle walk was all the jostling he and Verity would be able to stand at this moment.
After a long while, Hampton Court came into view and Rhys sent up a silent prayer to all the gods he worshipped, both Christian and Druid. The sky was lightening, but their chances of returning undetected seemed more than promising.
“We’re almost there,” he murmured as he maneuvered Artio around the more formal gardens and up close to the palace walls.
Verity sat forward and slowly turned to look at him. “I’m so glad that you are alive.”
“As am I, my lady.”
She cupped his cheek and brushed a soft kiss over his lips. “Thank you.”
“For what?” He breathed in her unique scent and even through the leaden layers of tiredness he felt the stirrings of need.
“For trusting me, and Elias.”
“I certainly trust
you
, my lady.” He wanted to take her to his bed and lie beside her for what remained of the night and watch over her. “Elias is another matter.”
“Still, it was good of you.” She swung her leg over the horse until she was sitting sideways on his lap, her arms loosely circling his neck. “The ladies’ quarters are close by. You can leave me here quite safely and go and stable the horses.”
“Aye, my lady.”
Despite his need for her, he was too exhausted to do more than agree and allow her to slip from his lap and walk away from him. He waited until she entered the courtyard and then turned Artio toward the well-lit stables. She might escape him now, but she would not escape him for much longer.
Chapter 19
 
M
istress Hopkins examined the wound on Rhys’s shoulder and smiled. “You are starting to heal quite nicely, Sir Rhys. How do you feel?”
“Much improved, Mistress Hopkins.”
Rhys smiled back at her and turned his head to examine the puncture wounds, which were no longer oozing blood. He waited patiently while the healer smoothed a sweet-smelling cream into his skin and then rebandaged his shoulder.
“That should do it, sir. Come back and see me next week, and we should be able to dispense with the bandage altogether.”
Rhys pulled his shirt back over his head and laced up his hose. Through the small kitchen window he could just make out Verity’s form in the garden, where she was busy picking comfrey and mint for Mistress Hopkins. She’d walked over with him to the healer’s cottage, her hand in his, and he’d enjoyed every moment.
After the bloodletting, he’d slept right through the next day and only dragged himself out of bed to ask the king’s permission to stay on at Hampton Court to assist Verity, which had been willingly granted. With the queen in such dire straits, he could not force the issue of his feelings for Verity.
With the shadow of the Vampire’s blood lifted from him, he had all the time in the world to woo her properly and convince her that she meant more to him than Rosalind. He smiled at his own foolishness—as long as neither of them got themselves killed before the matter was settled.
He shrugged into his brown doublet and buckled his sword back around his hips.
“Well?”Verity came through the kitchen door and looked inquiringly at him. She was wearing a cobalt gown that made her eyes seem bluer than the sky.
“The wound is healing normally now.”
Verity clasped her hands together. “That is wonderful.” She turned to Mistress Hopkins. “Thank you for all your care of him.”
Mistress Hopkins chuckled. “I did little to help him, my lady. We have to thank the power of the stone circle and our gods for his recovery.”
And Vampire blood
. In deference to the healer, Rhys didn’t say it out loud, but he couldn’t help but think it. And as to the effect that blood might have on them all, he didn’t dare contemplate it yet. He picked up his cap and bowed extravagantly to Mistress Hopkins.
BOOK: Mark of the Rose: The Tudor Vampire Chronicles
12.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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