Blood Curse

She blushed. He looked so awed.

“Come,” he said swiftly. He took her into the dining room, then left her. In moments he brought a basin of water and he washed her hands gently. He poured her wine. “I am flattered you tasted me, Felie, but I think this will taste better.”

She sipped, but shook her head. “I like your taste.”

“I like yours.” He grinned.

“I love you,” she whispered. “Everything about you. I can’t let you go.”

But she realized she wanted a lifetime with him. How was that possible? He had a thousand lifetimes ahead of him. An infinite number. She would grow old and he never would. It was one thing to become gray-haired, wrinkled, and stooped together. How could they have a future if she aged and he did not?

Heavens, it was impossible.

Or was it?

* * *

Raven had just climaxed so hard he’d thought his head was going to explode. Yet her words, the amazing thing she’d just done for him, and the sight of her with her hair tousled from his hands in his ecstasy made him hard again.

But this time, his fangs shot out at the same instant his cock shot up. It was happening again. Uncontrollable lust for her blood. It shouldn’t be happening.

She swallowed wine, then stared at him. His vampiric hearing detected the soft sound like a shout. The way her throat moved mesmerized him.

Her blood thrummed beneath her soft peach and ivory skin.

His hunger was driving him wild.

And she could tell. She watched him like a rabbit faced with a fox.

He had to send her away before he hurt her. Had to hold on to his control. He jerked out of his seat. “You must go. Now.”

“What’s wrong?” she gasped.

“You know what’s wrong. I can’t do this—can’t control it.” He couldn’t speak. It took all his energy to hold on to his restraint. Her lovely feminine, tempting smells wafted up to him.

She smelled of his seed, dewy perspiration, and sweet, pretty skin. And of blood. So much blood.

He turned from her, and called, in his head, for Lady Brookshire. She must have left. You must come for Ophelia, Lady Brookshire, he commanded. You have to rescue her from me. I am going to leave, but you bring your carriage and you take her away at once. Never allow her to return.

Now he had to run.

Something wrapped around his wrist, something soft but with a strong grip. He looked back.

Her hand clasped his wrist.

“Felie, love, you have to let me go. I can’t control it. I crave your blood too much.”

“Can you turn me? Can you make me like you? I want to be with you forever. You cannot bite me if I am a vampire, too.”

“I can’t ask you to give up being mortal. Human. I won’t ask it of you.”

“I am offering it.”

“And I refuse. For your own good. There can be no future for us.”

19 Home

The carriage lurched away from Raven’s house, the four black horses cantering over cobbles. Ophelia refused to cry. Her days of thinking she was helpless and her situation hopeless were gone. She would fight for what she wanted.

“It did not go well?” Althea asked gently. The lamps burned in the interior of the carriage, bathing the countess’s face in warm gold light, revealing the concern in her friend’s silvery green eyes.

Ophelia sighed. “It went very well . . . up to the point when I told him I was not going to accept that this is the end. I asked him to transform me. He refused. He said he could not ask me to give up my mortality. I wanted to do it. Yet that made no difference. It is like when he took me captive. He was in charge, and I had no say in the matter.”

A smile played on Althea’s lips. “The men we love are often like that. It makes it a little more difficult for women, but we can find a way to change Ravenhunt’s mind.” Althea’s expression grew serious. “Are you certain you do want to be changed?”

“Of course.”

“Listen first, Ophelia. Let me tell you what you will lose as a vampire—and what you will gain.”

She did listen as Althea explained to her that she would have to learn to drink blood, that she would experience the day sleep but could go out in daylight if she protected herself from the sun. She could have to struggle at the beginning to fight the natural urge to hunt for human prey. Her brother Harry and her sister, Lydia, might reject her out of fear—though Althea believed Harry would learn to accept. But they might be hurt that she chose that world over their world. She would have to keep her secret from the mortal world, for there was always the risk of frightened mobs armed with torches and weapons.

“You fought very hard to be normal and be part of the world that was denied to you for so long. Are you certain you want to turn your back on that before you have even experienced it? Ophelia, you have not yet even been to a ball—”

“I don’t care about those things. They will be empty and meaningless without Raven. I want you to change me into a vampire. Please—this is the only way I can be with him.”

But Althea shook her head. “Being turned is an intimate process, and it should be done with someone you wish to spend eternity with. I believe we will be friends for eternity, but I think it must be Ravenhunt who turns you.”

“But he won’t!” she protested. “If I were a vampire, he would have no guilt over turning me. I know how much guilt hurts him. I fear, if I were to convince him to change me, that eventually he would feel guilty about it. Then he would run away.”

“I do not think he would run away from you.”

“I fear he would. He cannot face guilt.” She looked at Althea. “Did your husband change you so you could be with him?”

Althea blushed lightly. “I did it to save him. My story is rather complicated—”

“Please tell it to me. I would love to know . . . unless it is private.”

“Not private from a dear friend, and I believe you will be a very dear friend of mine. Though I do have to admit something to you, and I am not sure if you will be too shocked to like me after you know.”

Ophelia swallowed hard—her new friend was a vampire, and she suspected the confession must be something to do with that. “I used to kill people by touching them. I would not judge you.”

“Not even if I revealed I actually have two husbands?”

She gasped. Then realized she’d misunderstood. “You mean you had a husband before Lord Brookshire —”

“No, I mean that I live in a menage a trois with Lord Brookshire and his brother, Mr. de Wynter,” Althea said, utterly naturally. “I feel in love with both of them, and they were both cursed to die. It was the power of a love shared between three that saved them. I cannot believe love will not prevail between Ravenhunt and you. We must make him see sense.”

Her wits still reeled from Althea’s explanation. “How?”

“The best method is seduction.”

“I think I could seduce him for eternity and never change his mind,” Ophelia sighed.

“Nonsense. We just have to find the one delicious fantasy for you to offer him that is so tempting he can’t