The King's Vampire (16 page)

“It looks like you’re the one who gives the demons power by fawning all over them.” Elizabeth spoke sharply to Godfrey.

“Don’t speak to me that way, lad.”

“Listen. It’s finished now, and the dawn comes on apace.” Darius squared his shoulders. “I suggest you all get back to your lodgings. Just remember to lay low, and be prepared for a fast departure. Get some wagons ready for a new settlement. Keep away from the psychic vampire demons unless you want an eternity of slavery. Go now. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

Once the other immortals had scattered, Darius lifted the loaded feather hat off Elizabeth’s head, and her russet hair came tumbling down around her shoulders and streamed down her back. “Why didn’t you want the others to know it was you?”

“I thought Godfrey would have an even harder time accepting a woman helped save him, rather than a young lad. He’d prefer to think one of his own was his savior.”

Darius entwined his hands between the strands of her hair, and she felt the warmth of his breath as he lifted her hair to his lips. “But he’s right. I wasn’t able to save them until you were in danger as well,” he murmured. “My spirit was too weak to break the circle, until we used our combined energy. You gave me power enough to break through the vacuum the psychic demons had created.

“Don’t punish yourself. It just means we’re stronger together than separate. Is that so wrong?”

He kissed the top of her head. “I suppose that’s not such a bad thing at all. Does anyone know you’ve left Whitehall?”

“No. I crept out by one of the endless secret passageways. Thanks to Cromwell, the palace has many hallways and secret passages burrowing throughout the palace. I think the king takes significant advantage of them.”

“We’ve got to get you back before daybreak, so no one knows you’ve gone missing.”

“Please, not yet.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. He had to duck a bit to go down to her level. In the relative freedom of a man’s clothing, Elizabeth wrapped her legs around his hips, and he cupped her bottom in his large palms. She rubbed her body up next to his loins, nearly purring like a cat.

“Elizabeth, are you sure this is what you want?”

“I know now I want you more than anything else in the world.”

“We don’t have much time,” he said, but he pushed his hands beneath the linen shirt she wore, as her legs remained locked around him.

She gave a gasp of pleasure and her nipples hardened against the soft, heated touch of his palms. When he pushed the breeches down below her hips, she felt his hardness pressing against her, and she thought she’d faint with pleasure. A streak of lightning lit up the dining hall, casting a light upon his perfectly sculpted chest.

Thunder rumbled, he lost his balance, and they fell to the floor. He pushed down his breeches low enough to free his throbbing cock, right after she’d kicked away her breeches. She knew it was wrong, but a wild passion swept over her that proved irresistible. The only thing that mattered was feeling Darius pulsing deep inside her.

She groaned when she felt him rubbing gently, so gently, against that sensitive area of hers that was turning hot and moist with every masterful stroke he made. In one firm movement, he entered her, and she cried out, “I need you so much.”

“You’re so perfect,” he whispered into her ear, his hot breath tickling her ear, while his teeth ran lightly against her jaw. His tongue flickered along the side of her neck, sucking and nibbling gently.

He remained poised over her, and she felt his muscles straining. He was careful not to crush her as he pumped into her. Her moistened cleft tightened around him at each thrust of his heated, swollen organ. Exquisite pleasure shot up her spine and exploded inside her brain. She wanted to scream from the rooftops how much she loved him, but all she could do was moan with a passion rising from the core of her being, and reverberating throughout her body.

His heat seemed to flow through her limbs, and it was a white-hot, passionate heat. Their blood pulsed together. His warm, velvety lips pressed against hers, while his tongue flicked into the depths of her mouth, evoking feelings she’d never experienced before.

Holding up her arms against his broad shoulders for support, she locked her legs around him once more. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, and they both shuddered to a climax at the same time, their union total and complete. He gave a deep groan, and then they locked into a kiss that seemed to halt time.

Finally, she released him and he pulled out of her. He rolled over on his back. Nothing could be heard but their heavy breathing for a few more minutes. Then he sat up. “Are you all right?”

In a shaky voice, she answered, “I don’t think I’ve ever been better.” With her extraordinary hearing, she heard their hearts beating in exquisite unison.

“I’m so very glad, my love.” He lifted her up in his arms, and then helped her sort out her clothes, before tossing on his own. “I’ve got to get you home before Julian returns and daybreak comes.”

She ached to tell him how much she loved him, but she didn’t quite dare. After all, he was a demon slayer, and she was still an immortal vampire. She couldn’t bring him down to her level, no matter how she felt about him.

Outside, his carriage waited. It seemed to fly along the rain-slicked cobbled streets. Saffron yellow light began to touch the edges of the sky. He wrapped her in his cloak to protect her from the early rays of the sun. When they reached the secret passageway along the river just below her apartments, he took her in his arms and kissed her. “Be careful, darling. Don’t let anyone discover you’re a vampire. I’ve been invited to the queen’s entertainment, so I’ll see you tonight.”

“I promise I’ll be careful.” Elizabeth pressed her fingers to her lips and threw Darius a kiss when he walked away. Taking comfort in the memory of their passionate lovemaking, she headed back to her apartments.

Chapter 16

At eight o’clock that evening, the guests gathered in the queen’s main drawing room. Elizabeth had already been announced, but she glanced around the room, impatient for Darius to arrive. The king requested Nell Gwynn to sing and dance for them. Elizabeth sat in stunned amazement by the sound of Nell’s sweet voice and her graceful movements. She performed for the royal court without the slightest appearance of self-consciousness.

In spite of her simple green damask gown with childish ribbons at the neck and waist, and her full-figured body of a country wench, King Charles seemed enchanted by Nell’s pure, clear voice as she sang simple, bawdy songs of the street. She finished by whirling and twisting her body into several graceful positions, and when she at last stopped, she made a curtsy so deep her head touched her knee. The entire court broke into enthusiastic applause, all except Countess Castlemaine, who made a production of being bored by yawning and fluttering her fan, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling.

Castlemaine spoke loudly to the king’s French mistress, Louise Keroualle. “Have you ever seen anyone as common as Nell Gwynn? She has the grace of a fat cow.”

The king and the rest of those who had heard Barbara’s comment glowered at her.

Louise answered with her feminine French accent, “You are quite mistaken, Madam. Nell has more grace and talent in her little finger than you could ever demonstrate in your entire body. It’s a pity having bastard children isn’t considered a talent, because that is the only way you might be considered a success.”

Everyone in hearing distance laughed. “You slut, I ought to—”

Louise lifted her chin. “What do you think you can do to me?”

Barbara stormed off without answering.

Music played in every room, while gaming tables were piled high with gold coins. The finest ladies and gentlemen wandered through the queen’s apartments, laughing and gossiping, drifting from room to room. King Charles spotted Elizabeth, and expertly maneuvered her into an empty bedroom.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the king wrapped his arms around her. She slipped out of his arms just as quickly. “Nell has a beautiful voice, and she dances with such grace.”

His black eyes grew wistful. “My Nelly is incredibly talented, and she has the voice of an angel. It’s a shame the way she grew up on the streets and has had to support her drunken mother and sister all her life.”

Fluttering her fan, she stepped back. “If I may be so bold, it sounds like His Majesty is quite fond of her. Can’t you take care of her?”

He shrugged. “I do what I can but I’m Charles Stuart, that poverty stricken king who’s just hanging on to his kingdom by the skin of his teeth. Parliament has me on such a tight budget, I can scarce afford to buy myself new hosiery, let alone spend money on all of my mistresses.”

“Surely, you jest, your Majesty. Your subjects love you, and you live in a state of great wealth, if you’ll pardon my mentioning it.”

He looked off in the distance. “Most of my friends are only after what they can get to further their own political aims, very few care for me at all. Nelly is probably one of the rare ones who actually love me for myself.”

Elizabeth’s eyes softened. “You sound so sad, Charles.”

“Sad? I don’t think I’m sad, just realistic. Being a king is a lonely position, but I don’t feel alone when I’m with you.” He drew her near again.

“I think you give me too much credit.” She put her hands to his chest and gently pushed him away.

“Do I?” His deep warm voice was a caress in itself, and it seemed he drew closer again without even moving.

She fought the urge to increase the distance between them. He seemed so lonely, and so desperately in need of a friend, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away entirely. Even though he was a king, she longed to comfort him, to tell him things would be all right. “You have so many women who love you. I know for a fact the queen adores you.”

A moody look crossed his face. “My poor Catherine has suffered so much because of me. I haven’t been the husband I should have been. It has broken her heart she’s been unable to give me a legitimate heir. I seem to produce children everywhere but where it matters most.”

Elizabeth squirmed, embarrassed to be involved in such an intimate conversation with the king, and yet, he had such a self-deprecating charm, it was impossible not to be vitally interested in everything he had to say. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Sire.” The more she talked with him, the easier it was to forget she was actually speaking to a king.

“Don’t pay any attention to me. Sometimes I get a mild case of self-pity, but it doesn’t last long. I should pity my poor people more than myself. They’ve suffered from the Great Plague, the Great Fire, and the Dutch’s attack on us while our fleet was put up for the winter. Sometimes I think they’ve been punished for my sins.” He led her to a window where the moonlight reflected the shadow of swans nestling close to shore.

“I don’t think that’s the case, Sire. I don’t believe God works that way.”

“How do you suppose he works? Can you tell me?” He turned her to face him, took her hands in his, leaning forward in an effort to kiss her.

Thinking of her own lost soul, Elizabeth turned her head. “I wish I knew, Sire, I do wish I knew.”

“Please don’t look away.” He put his forefinger beneath her chin and turned her toward him again. “You are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Your hair is like autumn leaves, and your skin glows like alabaster in the moonlight.”

“Your Majesty is too kind.”

“You remind me so much of Barbara before she grew bitter and jaded. It’s almost like you’ve turned back time to the moment of my Restoration.” His fingertips stroked the side of her face. “I want that moment back, Barbara.”

“I’m Elizabeth, remember?”

“Forgive me, my dear, of course I know that.”

She noticed the sensual fullness of his lower lip and the dimple in his chin before she moved away from him. “Please, Charles, don’t ask something of me I’m unable to give. I’m less than a whole person myself.”

“If you’re not a whole person, then I don’t know who indeed is.” He pulled her close once more and tried to kiss her lips.

Suddenly, Castlemaine burst into the room. “Charles, what are you doing in here all alone? How could you have let Louise humiliate me in front of everyone?” She whirled around and spotted Elizabeth standing near him in the shadows. “So you’re not alone. Why is this upstart slut trying to look like me? The common should never try to imitate the quality.”

He released Elizabeth’s arm and spoke swiftly, “Barbara, I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head when you’re talking to the Countess of Kingston-Upon-Hull. She’s hardly a commoner. And how many times have I told you it’s over between us? How dare you come bursting in here without being announced?”

Castlemaine’s face turned pale, and her hand flew to her throat. “You’d deny me, the mother of your children, the right to see you?”

“Well, perhaps some of those children are mine, but certainly not all of them.”

“How dare you say such a thing to me?” She pressed her hand to her heart, looking as though she might faint.

Elizabeth faced them both and curtsied, hoping to maintain some dignity in the midst of such a scene. “I see that you and the Countess of Castlemaine have much to discuss, so I’ll leave you alone.”

“What a cunning gypsy you are,” Barbara said. With eyes narrowing, she turned toward Elizabeth. “You mince and pretend to an exaggerated daintiness, just as any harlot does to impress the king, but I know your kind.”

“I’ve had enough of your foul tongue, Barbara. Another word from you and you’ll be sent away from court.” Charles reached out to Elizabeth with an outstretched hand. “Please don’t leave me.” He drew her hand to his lips.

Barbara said, “Pray forgive me, my lady, but we mustn’t keep you if you have more important places to go.” She tilted back her head and gave a laugh that bubbled up from her chest with complete abandon and lack of concern for others. Her moods were frighteningly mercurial, switching from near tears to laughter in an instant.

“Your Majesty, I really must go,” Elizabeth said. Unwilling to listen to any more of Barbara Palmer’s shrewish quarrel with the king, she streaked out of the room.