Vampire Darcy's Desire

For a split second, Darcy’s heart skipped a beat. He did not want Elizabeth to put herself in danger for him, but then the truth flashed in Wickham’s eyes. “You are quite amusing, Wickham, but the thought of my wife being here is ludicrous. I told you from the beginning, Elizabeth left with your seduction of her sister. However, if that were not true, and my wife were here, you have not enough ghouls in your congregation to hold me in these chains, for she would not stop until I was free.Trust me,Wickham, there is no way you could defeat her. She is more than either of us can handle.”

Wickham sat in complete silence; Darcy chose to ignore him and closed his eyes again. Finally, Wickham barked out a forced laugh. “You have me there, Darcy.Your rescuer was a man. Maybe you would have been better off with your wife; at least, she would not turn tail and run.” He stood with that statement. “The man favored you in some ways, Darcy—not quite as tall, however. Should I send for reinforcements?”

“Probably a stranger enticed by tales of the unknown.” Darcy hoped to convince his enemy to ignore the incursion.

“I can smell human blood.” Wickham looked off, as if no longer seeing Darcy. “Did you know that? I smell it as easily as I once smelled a rose. It is metallic and bittersweet. Have you ever tasted it, Darcy? It is addictive.”

At first the words were offensive, but then Darcy’s pity replaced his anger; and despite his personal loathing of Wickham’s baseness, Darcy suddenly felt empathy for what once must have been a proud and handsome man—a man who loved a woman too well and lost everything because of it.“I have not tasted it—at least, not in the way you mean,” Darcy spoke softly, not wishing to break the understanding between them.

Wickham laughed lightly at his own show of weakness. “That was a foolish question, was it not? Of course, you never succumbed to the noxious hunger that consumes me.You are too honorable to allow the poison to cross your lips.”

Darcy shook his head, a deep sadness overcoming him. “I simply want it to end,Wickham. It is not honor which drives me; it is the fear that my child—my son—could know such despondency —could live an inconsolable life. I would not term that honorable—it is pure cowardice.”

Wickham watched as Darcy once more took up his resigned vigil against the wall. An understanding passed between them; he imagined that in another lifetime, he and Darcy might even be friends, but circumstances prevented that ever becoming true. Wickham respected Darcy as much as he abhorred him. “Never fear, Darcy,” he said as a way of parting.“I may yet choose to do the honorable thing and fight you to the death, so to speak.”

Darcy tried to relax the pain in his shoulders and arms.Wickham had imprisoned him twenty-four hours earlier, and other than the occasional break he negotiated to meet his personal needs, he remained restrained by the shackles. Wickham, as he suspected, brought him no food or drink; he was to die of starvation, and Darcy accepted it.“You will let me know when you choose,Wickham,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and trying to welcome sleep. He heard the door close in front of him and knew when the bolt slid into the latch, but Darcy remained in repose. Images of Elizabeth filled his mind; remembrances of their time together over-spread his thoughts as sleep found him.

CHAPTER 26

The door opened before he knocked, and Elizabeth reached out immediately and pulled him into the room. “You promised,” she lambasted him, “you would do nothing to put yourself in danger!” Elizabeth swatted at the colonel’s chest. “I have been at my wit’s end with worry since I learned of your excursion.”

It pleased him that Elizabeth worried on his behalf.“Then you do not wish to know what I learned?”

Elizabeth pulled him to the table, forcibly shoving the colonel into a chair. “Tell me you found Fitzwilliam.” Her voice held her fears.

“My cousin is alive.”

Elizabeth collapsed, burying her face in her hands; sobs of joy racked her shoulders. “Thank God,” she moaned. The colonel rested his hand on her back in comfort. Allowing herself the moment of relief, she dramatically caught her breath, dashing away her tears with the knuckles of her hands. Raising her head, her eyes fell on Damon’s countenance.“Tell me everything.”

The gentleman in him told Damon Fitzwilliam to protect her from the terror he had experienced in Wickham’s house, but he held nothing back. He described the horror of the lost souls found in the cemetery and the compelling dance in the Wickford hall. He told her in detail of the young girl’s seduction and of Wickham’s bloody feast.

Elizabeth gasped, “It must be Lydia!” Her voice shook with anger and with remorse.“My poor dear Lydia; she knows no rest.”

“We will tend to your sister, Elizabeth.”

“Go on,” she insisted.

Then the colonel related what he had seen of Darcy’s bondage. Elizabeth continued to fight back the tears, but she listened closely to what he said. “It is my opinion that we need to find a way to

Elizabeth half smiled. “This tells me that Wickham fears my husband more than Fitzwilliam had realized. Over the past few months, Mr. Darcy has opened himself up to his once-latent powers. Wickham has my husband’s hands chained behind him because if Fitzwilliam extends his arms to the sides, he can control light and time— freezing the latter in place. Wickham has the power of the wind.”

“That explains the sound I heard while in hiding.”

Elizabeth glanced at the mantel clock.“Then we are agreed; we will go after Darcy in the morning after Wickham’s followers return to their graves.”

“Is there some way to lure Wickham away from the house?” The colonel considered all the options.

“My dealings with Wickham are limited,” Elizabeth thought out loud, “but what I know of him is that he is a performer. He pretends to be a regular man, one owning a well-run household. In just the same way, he put on a display for your eyes. He used Lydia as a warning. I suspect Wickham knew you were in the house.”

“Then you think he will come looking for us—for me?” Damon began to think as she did.