Microsoft Word - The Mammoth Book of Vampire Romance.doc (12 page)

He ignored her waspish comment and  instead reached out to touch her hair. She had abandoned her wig after the opera and instead wore her own hair pulled back in loose curls. “Your hair is nearly silver in the moonlight,” he said, twining one long curl around his finger.

She looked up at him, not knowing what to say to that. He took advantage of her silence by leaning in and brushing his lips to hers. She sighed against his mouth and  he  accepted the invitation, pulling her into his arms.  Her head whirled with the feel of his hard body against hers as he kissed her lips, her cheek, as his tongue stroked down across the pulse hammering in her throat. She was completely lost to him until she felt the sharp scrape of teeth against her neck. Suddenly she was no longer in Devlin’s arms. In her mind she was transported back to the night two years ago, the night when five vampires had caught her alone in the gardens of the Tuileries Palace. She pulled herself from Devlin’s embrace and hit him on the jaw as hard as she could.

His hand flew to his face as he stumbled back. “What the

bloody hell was that for?”

Justine’s fingers touched her neck and came away with

blood. “You bit me!”

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He rolled his eyes. “I did not bite you. It’s a tiny scrape and

it was an accident.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re a  liar, vampire, and you

will never touch me again.”

She turned and walked away, fury firing her every step. He

caught her in a few strides, spinning her around to face him.

“Justine, let me turn you,” he pleaded.

“You’re mad,” she whispered. “I will not  sell my soul to

you, not even for the promise of that beautiful body.”

“What about for your sister? Will you sell your soul for

her?” he asked softly.

Rage filled her until she was shaking with it. She pushed him back, punctuating each of her words with  another shove to his very solid chest. “Do not dare threaten my sister.”

Devlin grabbed her wrists with both of his hands. “I am not

the threat to her. You are.”

She kicked him in the shin and he grunted and released her.

“I would never harm Solange,” she spat.

“No, but you will be the death of her,” he said. “Did you

even consider that before you set out on this foolhardy venture?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You are, by all accounts, the most prolific slayer in the  history of vampires. They will not let you live, they cannot. If it  isn’t me who kills you, it will be someone else. You will not  have your youth for ever, did you think of that? That one day

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you will get older, slower? They will kill you eventually, but  first they will hurt you. And there is only one thing you care  about enough to cause the kind of pain they’ll want you to  suffer.”

“Solange,” she whispered. “But she is in a convent and  intends to take the vows. They cannot harm her on hallowed  ground.”

“That is not entirely accurate. It’s taboo but it isn’t  impossible. If a vampire were to harm her on hallowed ground,  well let’s just say that God’s vengeance would eventually be  satisfied. Your sister, however, would still be dead. Is that the  sort of death you want for her?”

Justine knew well what kind of death that would be. It was a death that should have been hers. She remembered the tearing teeth and clawing fingernails and in that moment she hated  Devlin for making her think of these things. She hated him for making her realize that  she hadn’t thought beyond her own vengeance. Perhaps she was no better than the silly, selfish creatures who populated the court of the Sun King. There was a time, before tonight, when she had thought that what she did was important, that she made a difference.  Perhaps though, what she did was more important to her own vanity. Did she execute these murderers for the greater good, or was it simply to prove to herself and to them that they may have beaten her once but they would not do so again? She was a fighter, a survivor. She didn’t know any other way to be.

“I hate you,” she whispered and turned away.

This time, he let her go.

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For two weeks Devlin did his best to make her see reason

but his pleas fell on deaf ears, and more often than not these  conversations led to a physical confrontation. The two of them  fought across the length and breadth of Paris and Justine loved  every moment of it. Devlin presented her with a fine sabre, even  though the sword was not practical for fighting vampires. She  lacked the upper-body  strength needed to take a head with a  sword, preferring her razor-sharp axe for such occasions.  Devlin, however, seemed to enjoy watching her fight with a  sword. He commented more than once on the beauty of her  lithe, graceful movements.

Every night he tested the very limits of her skills and made her a better fighter. She would often goad him into a fight just to see what else he could teach her. It became a game to them and  Justine could think no further into the future than where they

would meet the next night and for how long she would let him

kiss her when they grew weary of sparring.

Until the day the Mother Superior of the Ursulines arrived on her doorstep to tell her that two men in a closed carriage had snatched Solange off the side of the Rue Saint-Jacques in broad daylight.

Darkness could not come soon enough for Justine. Unsure of where the vampires would have taken her sister or what they would do to her, there was nothing she could do but wait until nightfall and her scheduled meeting with Devlin. She penned a note to the stage manager at the opera, explaining that her sister had been abducted and informing him that she would not sing tonight. She hoped that Devlin would be in the audience again and that when he realized someone else was singing the role of  Media he would come quickly to their meeting place.

After sunset, with nothing but a small lantern to light her way, Justine walked purposefully through the Luxembourg  Gardens. The trees were like dark skeletons against the  sky and

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the moonless night cast the waters of the Fontaine de Medicis an  inky black. Setting her lantern down, she paced and fumed until  one sharp turn sent her crashing into Devlin’s chest. He reached  out to steady her and she grabbed the lapels of his coat.

“They have her Devlin. They took her right off the streets,”

she cried.

He put his arms around her to steady her. “When?”

“This afternoon.”

“In daylight? Darling are you sure that it is Francois’ men

who have done this?”

“Who else could it be?”

“I don’t know,” he said, absently raking a hand through his  short dark hair, “but for vampires to go about in the middle of  the day, let alone to abduct a novice off the street, is a sign of  insanity or desperation.”

“Or both,” came a voice from the darkness.

Devlin drew his sword and pushed Justine behind him as a vampire she had never seen before stepped from the shadows.  He was a handsome man of average height with honey-brown hair and intelligent, pale-green eyes.

“Antoine,” Devlin said, with a nod.

The vampire returned the gesture, spreading his hands out to

show that he was unarmed.

“Who are you?” Justine demanded, “And what have you

done with my sister?”

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“You are correct, Francois has the girl. She was unharmed

when I last saw her but an hour ago.”

“What do you want Antoine?” Devlin demanded.

“I want to tell you a story and I want you to tell me how it

ends. But first I have a question to ask of you, my friend.”

“All right,” Devlin agreed.

“How is it that you came to be in Paris?”

Justine gritted her teeth, not seeing how such a question was

relevant to her sister’s abduction.

“I was sent here on the command of the High King

himself.”

Antoine nodded, seeming pleased. “Were you sent here to

kill the woman?” he asked, motioning to Justine.

Devlin shook his head. “I was only told to come to Paris.”

“
C’est bon.
”

“Now tell me your story Antoine.”

“The vampires of Paris are divided into two groups. Tjose  who enjoy the kill support Francois and demand the death of  your slayer. But there are those, such as myself, who would be  content to follow the laws of the High King and who consider  the abduction of an Ursuline novice to be a sin of the greatest  magnitude.”

“Then why don’t you simply overthrow him?” Justine

asked.

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“A century ago Francois and  I challenged the old Regent for  the rule of the city. Francois won and I lost. The other vampires  will not follow me. Now, if a righteous man, or woman,”  Antoine said with a nod to them both, “were to challenge  Francois and win then I could guarantee the  support of those  who would follow the High King’s laws.”

“Your men would follow an English mercenary and a

slayer?” Devlin scoffed.

“My men would follow the representatives of the High King  and the woman who brings justice to those of us who break his  laws. I don’t guarantee an easy fight, my friend, but I feel that  we would prevail.”

“Devlin,” Justine said, tugging on the sleeve of his coat,

“does your offer still stand?”

He looked down at her, confused.

“The offer to turn me,” she explained.

“Do you  realize what you’re asking?”

“Devlin, I cannot go into a nest of vampires as a human and  hope to survive. And I an assuming that is the only way I will  get my sister back?” she asked Antoine.

He nodded gravely. “Francois will use her to draw you out

and  then he will kill you both.”

Her blue eyes pleaded with him. “Devlin she’d lived most of her life in that convent. I have to get her back and if this is the only way to do it, then that is what I must do.”

“Are you ready to be Regent of Paris?” he asked.

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She gave him a look. “And not have to spend my nights

fighting vampires over the bodies of my fellow Parisians?”

He smiled. “Yes, I can think of much better ways to spend our nights. But, Justine, even if I turned you now you would not rise as a vampire for three nights.”

She paled, thinking of what Francois could do to her sister

in three days and nights.

“I will guarantee the girls safety,” Antoine volunteered.

Justine narrowed her eyes. “How?”

“Francois had to hire humans to abduct her. None of our  vampires will touch her because of the habit and the crucifix she  wears. One of my men had the care of her. I will see to it that  she is well cared for and unharmed until you come for her, but  you must come. Francois is a man of few scruples. If you do  not  come, eventually he will screw up the courage and kill her. He  will have to, or risk losing the respect of those loyal to him.”

“I will come for her. You tell her that I will come for her.”

Antoine nodded. “Francois has a chateau just outside Paris

in Montrouge. You will find her there. My men and I will be

waiting.”

Antoine turned to go but Justine called after him. “Antoine!  I expect you to hold your end of the bargain. If there is one scratch on my sister’s body I will hold you personally responsible.”

He turned and with a flourish of his plumed hat, bowed low

to her and then disappeared into the darkness.

“Do you think we can trust him?” Justine asked.

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“I am a good judge of men, Justine, and of soldiers in  particular. Antoine is an honourable man. He was one of King  Henri II’s most trusted chevaliers. Let’s just hope that he is an  equally good judge of the vampires he represents.”

She turned and looked up at him. “Devlin, why are you

doing this?”

He cupped her face in his large hands. “I have  been lost for so long, Justine. You make me feel alive for the first time since .  . . since well before I became a vampire. You make me want to be a better man. Let me be your knight, my lady. Together we will take this city and bend it to your will.”

She  laid her head on his chest so that he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “Then take me home, my knight,” she said softly, “and make me yours.”

Naked in her bed, Devlin was everything she’d imagined he would be and more. She ran her fingers through the crisp hair of his chest, marvelling at the solid muscle beneath her hands. He allowed her this liberty only briefly and then he flipped her onto her back and proceeded to do things with his hands and mouth that even an experienced courtesan would not admit to in light of day.