Vampire Dreams Revamped (A Sons of Navarus Prequel) (7 page)

The doctor had warned that she couldn’t
handle much more of whatever was attacking her system, and even in
his ignorance he’d stumbled upon the reality Brandon knew he must
accept. He would have to turn her within the next few nights or
cease feeding from her. And that he could not do. What he received
from her blood each time he fed from her provided him more than
sustenance, more than survival, and he couldn’t force himself to
let that go.

Brandon quietly slipped out of Arden’s room
and returned to his study. With everything on his mind, he poured
himself a glass of port and tried to lose himself in the effect of
the alcohol. As each sip slid down his throat, he sought some
measure of escape from the choice he knew he’d make.

“As someone who’s been a vampire for so
long, you should know the alcohol never works like it did when you
were human.”

Startled, Brandon turned to see his sire
standing in the doorway. “Vasilije, what are you doing here?”

“Whatever could be the matter with my
Brandon?”

As he spoke, Vasilije glided across the room
toward the man he’d turned so many years earlier. Brandon watched
him push his long black hair from his face to reveal the beautiful
features his sire had possessed for as long as he’d known him.
Crystal blue eyes stared into his as he struggled to look away.

Vasilije stopped within a foot of Brandon
and reached his pale fingers out to touch his face. “What is it
that makes you want to drown yourself in this ineffective
poison?”

Brandon turned away to escape his touch and
moved to the chair behind his desk, hoping to put some distance
between him and his visitor. The last thing he wanted was for
Vasilije to know anything about Arden.

With the desk in front of him, he felt his
control begin to build. “Why are you here, Vasilije?”

His sire sat down in a leather chair across
from the desk and tilted his head back, eyeing the ceiling. “I’m
bored, dear Brandon. London is so dreadfully boring this time of
year.” Vasilije lowered his gaze to meet Brandon’s. “I crave
excitement.”

“I’m the last person you should call on if
you seek excitement. Wasn't it just last week that you said I was
boring?”

“Was that last week? God, time creeps by
these days. I thought you might have some idea how I might
entertain myself,” Vasilije said leaning forward. “Anything
new?”

Brandon prayed to God he hadn’t heard
anything of Arden. “Nothing that would interest you. Household
staff changes, a minor loss in a business deal...”

“Good God, Brandon! You are the dullest
vampire I know. What happened to that interesting young man I
turned all those years ago?”

“He lived too many years and matured.”

Flinging himself back in his seat, Vasilije
waved away Brandon’s words. “Do you remember the times we had, just
the two of us, right after I sired you? Oh, how many of those
zealous Puritan believers did we have? I miss those days.”

“I don’t. I was never as entertained by that
as you.”

Vasilije stood, his face twisted in disgust.
“You really are quite suited to the repressed times of Victoria,
aren’t you?”

“You can go anywhere you want. If London is
so boring, why not go somewhere else?”
Immediately, before you
find out about Arden.

Walking away, the older vampire said, “I
think I just might, my dear Brandon. I won’t bother extending an
offer for you to join me as I can see you’re supremely content
drinking to your happiness.”

Brandon smiled, hoping the visit had ended.
“Goodbye, Vasilije.”

Turning to face him, Vasilije returned the
smile. “Never goodbye. And remember, I’ll be around if you have any
need to visit me.”

As the front door closed, Brandon breathed a
heavy sigh. He knew exactly what Vasilije had referred to. He knew
about Arden, or at least knew he had met someone he would request
to sire. Since as his sire Vasilije had the power to approve or
deny his choice of Arden as one he wanted as his own, Brandon knew
this visit was more a reminder of the rules of their world than a
friendly call.

He also knew he wouldn’t be able to put off
his own visit to Vasilije much longer.

Arden awoke on her own the next morning
feeling much better. She hadn’t had any dreams of Brandon, a fact
she realized with disappointment, and for the first time in days
had enjoyed a restful sleep. She looked around the room unhappy not
to see him still sitting on the bed next to her. It was probably
too much to expect anyone to stay for twelve hours, but she wished
he had.

She had a vague memory of waking during the
night to see him watching her, his eyes as always appearing as if
they were searching her face for some answer. His face had been a
mixture of worry and caring as he smiled to comfort her. As she
replayed the memory in her mind, she heard no words, but had the
sense that she was safe in his care.

Squeezing the sheets in her hands, she
relished the sense of security she felt in his house. In addition
to having a home again, the events of the day before had shown her
she had people who cared about her. Even Mrs. Benson had been
uncharacteristically kind in response to her sickness. Most of all,
Brandon’s show of concern had convinced her that she could feel
safe in her new home.

Once downstairs, Arden began her tasks as if
nothing had happened the day before, hoping the entire episode
could be forgotten. She’d often found in her short life that the
best way to handle the difficulties life handed a person was to
return to everyday activities as soon as possible instead of
wallowing in those problems. It comforted her to know that the
people around her cared, though.

Even though she knew Brandon’s schedule by
now, she’d secretly hoped he would come to see her when she began
her day. While she straightened the mess he’d made in his study,
she ran her fingers over the blotter stained with splotches of ink
on his desk. She imagined him sitting in his heavy wooden chair,
hunched over his desk as he wrote to another like him of weighty
matters powerful men dealt with.

Arden tentatively placed herself in his seat
and closed her eyes. Everything around her felt like him—dark and
seductive. She ran her hands over the arms of the chair, feeling
the smoothness of the polished wood against her palms.

A noise outside the door startled her, and
she leapt out of his chair before anyone witnessed her
inappropriate behavior. Hurriedly, she cleaned the room and left to
return to the kitchen where she found Mrs. Jandry busy with her
duties.

As she sat down at the table, she watched
the cook, wondering how long she’d been with Brandon. “Mrs. Jandry,
what is Mr. Ridley having tonight?”

While the cook detailed the menu for the
evening, Arden waited patiently to move on to more interesting
matters. When she’d finally finished explaining the dishes she was
to prepare for him, Arden waited a moment and then asked, “How long
have you served Mr. Ridley?”

The older woman spoke freely like she had
never done before to Arden. As she listened, she hoped to hear
something that would help her to know more about Brandon.

“I have been with the master for longer than
I can believe. Is it possible I’ve been with him for twenty years?
Yes, yes, it would be as poor Mr. Jandry has been gone as
long.”

The cook trailed off into a description of
the disease that had taken her late husband. As she half listened,
Arden questioned how old Brandon could be. How old had he been when
Mrs. Jandry began as his cook? He looked within a few years of her
own age, but twenty years as the master of the house would put him
at decades older.

“Twenty years? So you were the cook to the
senior Mr. Ridley?”

“No. Just the master,” she answered as she
chopped raw vegetables to dump into the broth she’d been
simmering.

Arden’s mind worked to figure out the puzzle
of Brandon’s age.
Twenty years as the master of the house yet as
youthful in appearance as one born then?

Her brain switching gears, she asked, “Mrs.
Jandry, what became of the previous maid?”

Within seconds, the cook’s affable
disposition had iced over, her body stiffening as she stopped her
chopping and then continued moments later.

“She left for personal reasons, miss.”

Arden understood by her tone that she’d get
no more about this from Mrs. Jandry, though she remained sure there
was something to know about why her predecessor had left. Her
question had effectively ended any conversation, so Arden kept her
suspicions for another time and went about her business making sure
everything was ready for Brandon’s return.

When Mrs. Jandry began preparing his dinner
tray, Arden knew he’d come home. Tray in hand, she entered his
study, eager to see him. As she’d grown used to, he sat at his desk
absorbed in his work, but this night the moment he saw her, he rose
from his chair to take his dinner from her.

“Let me help you. Are you feeling
better?”

His concern touched her, and she smiled
shyly. “Thank you, sir. Yes, I’m fine now.”

As he placed his dinner on the table, he
shot her a look of disapproval. “What did we agree you’d call
me?”

Arden felt her cheeks warm. “Brandon. I’m
sorry, sir...Brandon.”

The smile that greeted her made her insides
melt. Obviously pleased, his gaze remained on her face, and she
hoped he would repeat his offer to enjoy his dinner with her.

“I hope the doctor’s remedies have made a
difference. I see the color has returned to your cheeks.”

Arden watched as he returned to his chair
and began to eat. Crestfallen, she waited for him to excuse
her.

“Yes, I feel much better today.”

Silently, he dipped his spoon into his soup
and brought it to his mouth. As he began to enjoy his dinner, he
looked up to see her waiting for his next command.

“Thank you, Arden. Is there anything you
need?”

Wishing she could tell him she wanted to
stay, to enjoy his company, to ask about the maid before her, she
merely shook her head and smiled.

“Then perhaps you would help me with
something I need,” he said looking up at her.

Before a more subdued answer came to her,
she exclaimed, “Anything!”

“Sit with me then and keep me company. I
find I need companionship, and I can’t imagine anyone I’d like to
spend time with more.”

Arden knew her face showed how thrilled she
was to be spending time with him again, but she felt no
embarrassment. If anything, he seemed uncharacteristically shy
himself for a moment. However, with a smile from him it passed and
they began what she hoped would be an everyday ritual.

As they ate, they talked about her improving
health and Mrs. Benson’s surprising change toward her, and Arden
chuckled at his almost juvenile mocking of his housekeeper. She saw
her laughter had caused him to stop talking, but before she could
apologize for her improper behavior, he confessed, “I love to hear
you laugh.”

Blushing, she dropped her gaze to the table.
He lifted her chin with his finger until her eyes met his. His eyes
had a longing to them like she’d never seen before.

“You have no reason to look away. Never be
ashamed in front of me.”

All at once, the incredible sensations she’d
felt with him in her dreams passed through her body. Every touch of
his hands, every caress of his lips, and every drag of his tongue
over her most sensitive parts glimmered in his eyes, and her body
responded to his gaze as she began to crave being close to him.

Her nipples tightened under her plain maid’s
uniform, pressing into the fabric and exciting her more. And an
ache formed in the pit of her stomach followed by a need to have
him inside her, filling her.

As much as she knew she should be
embarrassed by what she wanted, she couldn't control the longing
his touch and his gaze created in her.

***

Brandon saw her desire grow in front of him
and felt his own grow as his fangs lengthened in his mouth. She was
ready. Tonight, she would be his. Tentatively, he leaned forward
and touched his lips to hers. So soft, so willing against his, just
as she’d been each night he’d visited her.

Afraid she might back away or run, he took
her face in his hands and gently held her to him. Tenderly, his
tongue slid between her half-open lips and searched for hers,
teasing the tip when they touched.

She drew in a sharp breath in surprise but
didn’t pull away, instead almost imperceptibly moving her tongue
over the sharp point of one fang. Brandon felt a jolt of excitement
run through him straight to his cock as she innocently explored one
of the most sensual parts of him. Unable to hold back, he moaned
into her mouth, reveling in the feel of her tongue stroking him.
His emotion startled her and as she pulled away, he willed his
fangs to recede, not ready to take her where he planned to go just
yet.

“Arden, look at me.” Slowly she opened her
eyes. “Do you like me?”

Like a soul desperate to enjoy what she’d
been feeling, she nodded her answer, her eyes never straying from
the lips she seemed to yearn to return to kissing.

“I’ve grown to care for you a great deal. Do
you trust me?”

Without hesitation, she nodded again.

“I want to take you somewhere tonight. Say
you’ll come with me.”

Breathlessly, she answered, “Yes.”

Brandon smiled at her willingness to trust
him and leaned in to kiss her again. “I have something for you,
love. Keep your eyes closed.”

As she sat patiently waiting, he retrieved
the box of chocolates from near his desk and placed it on the table
in front of them. “Open your mouth for me, Arden.”

Obeying, she parted her lips and slowly
moved her tongue to lick her lips in anticipation of his gift. As
he placed the tiny candy on her tongue, her eyes opened wide and
she smiled, savoring the delicious sweetness in her mouth.