Chapter Eight
Though she’d tried to hide it, Nikolai knew she wept the entire march over the grassy hill and onto the main lane leading toward Lobdell. The dark gray up ahead showed that it was raining already in town.
“You know, we’d get there faster if you let me carry you.”
“I don’t like traveling that way,” she protested, not meeting his gaze.
“Do you like being soaking wet? I can get us both out of the rain faster.”
She stopped and whipped toward him. “Well, forgive me for being human. I cannot move at your speed.”
“I’m well aware of your deficiencies. Which is why I offer to carry you.”
“Damn you, Nikolai.” She walked even faster. The wind blew off her hood, and she stopped suddenly. “Fine. Take us to the edge of town, but I will walk on my own feet once there.”
Anger burned bright in her lovely green eyes where there was pain a few moments before. Mission accomplished. He’d rather her be angry at him than for her to be heartsick.
“As you wish, my lady.” He swept her up, noting her gasp.
There was no mistaking the palpable desire ever-present and growing between them. He would wait as long as possible, but there would be no getting around the absolute fact that they were going to be lovers. He needed her in his bed, beneath him, to assuage this restless, burgeoning passion.
“Hold on,” he told her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, which he found strangely comforting, then he flashed down the road. He passed an ambling cart with a farmer and his load of winter squash and stopped at the blacksmith shop, the first on the lane entering town. He set her on her feet. She gripped his shoulders and steadied herself.
“Are you all right?”
She gazed up at him, and he willed himself not to pull her into his arms. The need to hold her and care for her was as strong as his need to lay her down and bed her. This woman was certainly a witch, for she beguiled him every step of the way.
“I’m fine,” she said, pulling away. But the press of her palm on her stomach told him otherwise. “Where’s the butchery?”
“Of that, I’m not sure.” He glanced around, the distinct ping of hammer and anvil at work in the smithy shop. “But this is a small town. Let’s keep moving.”
A peasant woman with a child on her hip disappeared into the bakery when she caught sight of Nikolai. It wasn’t as if he could hide who or what he was. Some vampires blended in, especially those that had been made. But he was a born vampire from a long line of blue bloods. His height, his sharp features and fair hair denoted him as one of the old ones. No one needed to see fangs in his mouth to know he was a vampire.
“Perhaps you need a black cloak as well,” said Sienna, her teeth chattering.
Always so perceptive, this woman. He smiled. “Perhaps so.”
The rain poured down, making the cold colder. Sienna shivered underneath her wet cloak. And the thought galled him to no end, especially after knowing her heart ached for her forest and her wolves. A sign up ahead, hanging outside an inn’s door, gave him an idea.
“There is no reason for us to wander around in the rain together.” He took her arm and guided her through the inn door.
“I don’t mind the rain,” she protested, her temper still up, even while her teeth chattered together.
“Right. But your lips are turning blue, so perhaps a respite might do you some good.”
She said no more as Nikolai stepped forward where a kind-faced woman stood behind a tall reception desk, greeting them with wide eyes. He’d better show his purse quickly to wipe the fear from her expression.
“Greetings. We seem to have gotten caught in a nasty storm,” he said amiably, taking Sienna’s hand and guiding her closer. She didn’t pull away, thankfully.
The woman gave him a wobbly smile. “Yes, sir. That storm’s been brewing all morning. Finally let us have it.”
“We’ve been traveling a good ways, and I saw your sign outside. I wondered if you might have a hot bath for my lady.” He pulled out a pouch of coin, sovereigns jingling.
Her smile broadened. “Why, yes, sir. We most certainly can manage that. And a good meal to go with it.”
“Perfect.”
“Would you and your wife be needing a room for the night as well?”
Sienna shot him a look. Nikolai smiled, sidling closer to her with a hand on her back. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.” He dropped a few more coins on the reception desk, then turned to Sienna, who stared up at him in bewilderment. “Now, darling. You get a warm bath. I’ll return shortly and we’ll have tea together.”
She said nothing as he stole the opportunity to sweep an innocent kiss upon her lips. But the flare of heat with that simple act sent not-so-innocent thoughts through his head.
“She’s in good hands, my lord.”
He’d not been called my lord for many years, not since before he’d joined the Legionnaires. As the superior species, vampires were either of noble birth and therefore lords or ladies, or they were soldiers in the Crown’s Legionnaires. Since he wasn’t in uniform, she’d assumed he was a lord, which he was. But the thought struck something dark inside him, that humans who were unfortunately born into the peasantry never had a chance of coming into their own, seen as lesser simply by their birth. In that single moment, he understood why Marius’s wife Arabelle had started the Black Lily. And for the first time, it truly hit home that there was justice in their cause.
“Are you all right?” asked Sienna beside him, her teeth still chattering together.
“Fine. I’ll be back in an hour.”
He pulled up the collar of his coat and ducked back out into the rain. Lobdell appeared to be about the size of Sylus, the village in the shadow of the Glass Tower.
Nikolai chuckled to himself as he passed the baker’s shop where the owner set out new pastries in the window. He’d teased Marius for his obsession with the human, sure it would come to nothing in the end. When in fact, it had come to everything. His marriage to Arabelle had not only changed Marius’s world but Nikolai’s as well.
Nikolai couldn’t stay behind at the Glass Tower, knowing the queen was the one behind the spreading of sanguine furorem and the murdering of the peasantry. The hypocrisy infuriated him. The crown set itself on high, setting laws that ensured the safety of humans, both their aristocrats and their peasants. All the while, the queen was breaking those laws for her own entertainment and sadistic pleasure. No, that didn’t seem right either, he thought as the rain pelted down. He walked on past the dressmaker’s shop, noting the mannequin’s dress, hat, and gloves before moving on. The queen yearned for something more which the blood madness gave her. Power.
In his youth, following Nikolai’s own haunting sin that he kept in the deepest recesses of his memory, Nikolai had seen the horrific effects of the blood madness. It had taken hold of a young Legionnaire at a human duke’s ball. He became drunk on the blood of a lady who’d offered herself in private. The vampire had continued on in his wildness, nearly slaughtering everyone in the ballroom until Nikolai and his lieutenant heard the cries from below while on duty. Nikolai was a mere soldier in the ranks then. His lieutenant had been forced to kill the vampire, who left behind a trail of devastation.
When they returned to the palace with the body of the vampire and sad news of what had occurred, the king had congratulated the lieutenant on his good work, in making the difficult decision to ensure the safety of the rest of the humans and to keep what peace they could. After all, that was their duty, to protect the vampire crown and to enforce the laws that kept the humans safe. That was what Nikolai had believed. Then his lieutenant disappeared, shipped off to the north, he was told, allowing his sergeant to move up and for Nikolai to receive his first promotion.
Nikolai chastised himself for being blind to the truth for so long. He’d seen that mad vampire who’d captured Arabelle long before the ball, doting on the queen. She’d been playing in her dungeon with her young vampires, killing to their heart’s content even then, and he’d never seen it. The king must’ve known and simply kept her secrets, impotent against her power. Now he knew it was not King Grindal of Varis who was their original maker. But the queen. And that was more reason for him to leave his whole world at the Glass Tower behind.
He had been the queen’s fool, like so many others. And his life had been a lie. While he thought himself a defender of the faithful crown, keeping law and order among the people and the vampire royalty, he had merely been defending her right to kill at will behind closed doors. And the thought that perhaps he was the monster so many humans believed him to be was the most difficult realization of all. A painful reality he felt needed retribution. If he could atone his many sins by helping the Black Lily, then it would have to be enough.
The pungent smell of roast pig caught his attention. The butchery was near. He wiped away the regretful memories and marched on, keeping his collar around his face. Stepping into the butchery, there was no one about as he shook off the rain and combed a hand through his wet hair.
“A hat would help, you know?” came a woman’s gruff voice.
She stood in the doorway that led into a back room, wiping her hands on an apron. She was of medium build, bearing hands used to work. With his vampire sight, Nikolai could see at least three random scars, whitened with age, a hazard of working with sharp knives and hot stoves all day. She kept her brown hair pinned under a cap. And though homely, she had kind eyes. Right now, they were narrowed on him.
“Unless Lobdell has become the posh new getaway for handsome vampires, I’d say you are Nikolai.”
He laughed, for they both knew there was nothing posh about Lobdell, except perhaps that dressmaker’s shop, which he planned to visit on his way back to the inn.
“I am Nikolai,” he assented with a small bow.
“I thought you were coming with a woman. The Red Witch, they call her.”
He frowned at that, not pleased with the name given to Sienna. As for himself, he cared not at all if she were deemed a witch. But he knew the danger such a label carried with humans. Witches put fear into common folk.
“I am with Sienna, the Woman of the Wood. Yes. I left her at the inn while I came in search of you.”
“I am Deborah. Folks call me Deb.” With a nod, she waved him to follow. “Come on back.”
He did. Two brutish men were cutting up a whole roasted pig that had been cooked in an oversized oven, much like the ones he’d seen in the kitchen at the palace. They glanced his way, then set back to work, hacking into the beast with cleavers and deft precision.
Deb opened the door leading out of the butchery, the rain finally slowing down. She pointed to a barn. “That’s where we’ll meet, but I’ll need to show you where to enter.”
She led him through the barn door where stalls lined both sides. There was a cow or two, and a long pen of pigs rooting around in the hay.
“Right over here,” said Deb. She marched over to the corner where a cart sat filled with feed.
She moved the cart forward and brushed her foot over the spot, revealing a square door in the floor. “This is where we’ll meet.” She tapped a foot on the spot. “Only those who I trust will be there.”
“Thank you for taking the risk,” said Nikolai.
Now that he stood closer to her, he realized she was younger than he thought at first glance. A hard life had toughened her exterior.
Hands on hips, she stared out the barn door where the rain slowed to a sprinkle. “No reason to thank me. I have my own motives.”
“And they are?”
She fixed her gaze back on him. “My father was called to the palace for the last Blood Ball for Prince Marius. His reputation was wide for cooking the best meats in the region. He didn’t want to go, but he did.”
She swiped the back of her hand across her face with a sniffle. He wasn’t sure if it was to stop herself from crying or a nervous twitch.
“And he never returned home?” he asked quietly.
She huffed out a sigh. “He never returned home. No one knew what happened to him.”
“I am sorry for your loss. The blood madness had taken root with some of the Legionnaires. I didn’t know it at the time. Those vampires are gone now.”
“Well, not all,” she said. “The mad queen is still there.”
Nikolai assented with a nod. “Unfortunately, yes. And she builds her army, which is why it’s important to build our own.”
Deb crossed her arms and faced the open door. Nikolai stood quietly at her side, hands clasped at his back.
“And now we’ve got a vampire prince and his lieutenant on our side?” She shook her head. “If I didn’t trust Ivan and he hadn’t convinced me of the truth, I’d have thought you were just playing a part to discover the crown’s enemies.”
Nikolai understood her distrust. Her father had been killed by his own kind. Hell, he’d been killed while under Nikolai’s charge as the chief lieutenant of the Glass Tower. All those who’d died in that place were his responsibility to keep safe. And he’d failed. Grinding his teeth together, he finally managed to turn to her and answer.
“Yes. I am vampire, and I do not apologize for it. But I have always upheld the laws to keep the balance between the species. I have never taken blood without consent, and I have protected the innocent from vampires who would take by force.” The rain slowed to a stop, droplets trickling from the overhang of the barn. “Your father died under my watch. For him, and for many others, I have much to atone. I will not stand on the side of murderers, even if they are my own kind.”
She studied his face for a moment, the tightness of her own relaxing. “I see now.” She held out a hand for Nikolai to shake. He did, having never shaken a woman’s hand like a man. But Deb was different. She took over her father’s business, a man’s business. “I’ll see you tonight then. At ten.”
“Tonight,” he agreed.
Deb marched back toward her butchery, but Nikolai cut through the buildings back toward the inn. He was anxious to get back to Sienna, but he had one quick stop along the way.