The Vampire Narcise

She probably doesn’t even realize it.”

Over my bloody damned dead body.

“Never,” he snapped, yanking up his satchel. By God, he’d never wish such a thing on his sister: to be in love with one of these warped-souled beings. It was an untenable hell of its own. “And even if she fancies herself in love with him, I won’t permit it. I’ll kill him first.”

“I’ll come with you, Chas,” she said, standing in a swirl of dark hair and smooth slide of her pale gown.

“Don’t be a fool,” he said, his voice softening. “You can’t allow yourself anywhere near Cezar. Paris might be a big city, but you know as well as I do that he has spies and makes everywhere. I won’t risk you, Narcise.”

“It was almost impossible for us to leave Paris safely the last time,” Narcise was arguing. “Cezar still has makes and mortal soldiers watching for us everywhere…you know it. You’ll never get out of the city again, with or without Angelica. Let alone into Cezar’s place.”

Chas wondered whether she was more terrified that he was leaving her alone, or that he might not come back.

Or that she might have to see Giordan Cale again.

He reminded her, “But the last time you were with me, and he was searching for you—”

“But, Chas…”

“And aside of that, Cezar would see me. You know that for certain. He’d be delighted to welcome me back into his lair.”

He didn’t understand why she was being so unreasonable…so uncharacteristically weak. Narcise was the strongest woman he’d ever known—how else could she have survived her years of captivity with her brother?

Surely it wasn’t just that she was frightened of being left in London. A little niggle of certainty wormed into the back of his mind and he thrust it away. No. Surely whatever had been between her and Cale was truly over and done with. The hatred between them had rolled off in palpable waves.

Between Dimitri and Rubey, who was intimate with Cale, he would find out what their history was.

“Chas, please,” Narcise begged, and a wave of anger rushed through him.

“Don’t insult me by implying your brother is more than a match for me,” he said flatly. “If we knew what his Asthenia was, I’d have brought it to him long ago.” Even as he said these words, he realized the argument was weak. But he didn’t have a choice. Angelica was in danger, and he wasn’t about to sit back and place her safety in Voss’s hands.

And if he had the time to go to Scotland, to visit Sonia and beg her to help him one more time, Chas could learn what Cezar’s Asthenia was. While Angelica had visions of people in their moment of death, their youngest sister had a different gift. She was able to see what a person feared the most—and for the Dracule, it was the Asthenia.

Chas had used Sonia more than once in the past to help him learn the specific weakness of a vampire he was hunting, but once she learned why he was asking for her help, she’d refused to be part of it. “Neither of us have the right to make such judgment,” she’d told him piously.

“But you’ve been given a gift…and so have I,” he’d argued back. “We’re meant to use them.”

“No,” she’d said…and he’d recognized fear lurking in her eyes.

But he was certain she’d help him this time—to find Cezar’s weakness, knowing that their sister’s safety was at stake…yet, there was no time now. He’d have to trust Voss to carry out their plan and free Angelica…and as soon as he could, Chas would relieve his sister from the vampire’s presence.

And then he’d kill Voss.

Chas looked at Narcise, filling his eyes with her. He never tired of her beauty, he never lost the awe he felt when he looked upon her perfection, and although it was blasphemy—terrible, shameful blasphemy—he thought what a boon it was that Lucifer had turned her immortal. That her looks would never fade, that her face and figure would never age.

It would have been a shame to lose such exquisiteness. Such artistry.

“You’ll be safe here, Narcise,” Chas said, gesturing to the stone walls around them. The quarters he’d prepared for her were in the cellar of an old monastery ruin.

Perhaps two years ago, he’d flushed out and chased away a group of made vampirs who’d used the place as a haven. The only access to the cellar was through an old wall in a cemetery that sat on one of the hills on the outskirts of London, and the entrance was well-hidden. Aside of that, there was a barrier of crosses and other religious markings that would keep vampires away—with only one secret passage through which one might manage to gain access. He’d had to help Narcise across that threshold in order to be safely contained, and it had been some time until she regained her full strength.

Thus, he knew she’d be safe here. Not only did Narcise, armed with her saber and vampire strength, know how to take care of herself—but no one would find her or cross over into the place…unless Chas wanted them to.

He drank in the sight of her again and felt something painful twist deeply inside him. He would return to her. And he’d find some way to manage loving an immortal with a warped soul.

“You’ll be safe here, Narcise. He won’t find you, and then when I get back we’ll go to Wales.”

“Very well,” she acceded. Her gaze settled on him and he recognized a tinge of fear…and something softening her eyes.

His heart tripped and a wave of desire and uncertainty rushed over him. He would come back. But would she still be here?

Chas dropped his satchel and went to her, striding across the room and pushing her back against the rough wall. He took her mouth, covering her lips with his in a deep, needy kiss.

Sweet and warm and lush, she melted against him, her fingers cupping the back of his head, pulling him down into her. Chas closed his eyes, memorizing her, feeling every curve and rise of her body printed against his. I love you.

“Be safe,” she breathed as he pulled away to catch a breath, staggered by the force of his emotions. “Come back to me.” She reached up to touch his face, her fingers gentle along his jaw, brushing his hair back.

A ripple of fear shimmered in his middle. “I’m in love with you, Narcise. Make no mistake…I’ll return. But…” he said, all at once knowing what he had to do. Knowing he had to take the chance. He had to know. “While I’m gone, you have other things to attend to.”

Narcise blinked, her eyes wary and confused.

“Do what you must do,” he said steadily, trying not to think of what could happen, “to let go of the past. Otherwise…” His lips tightened. “I love you, but I won’t wait for you to come to love me.”

No. She had to free her heart from whatever kept it locked up, away from him. And then…somehow, he’d figure out a way for them to be together.

A vampire hunter and an immortal woman with a warped soul.

As he caught up his satchel and swept from the chamber, her last words followed him. “I can’t lose you, Chas.” She wouldn’t.

But how would he go on if he lost her?

~ III ~ Life

17

September 1804