Bound by Night

“No. Andrei is the father.”



“Andrei? How did that happen?” she asked. But the answer was obvious. “You had this all planned out, didn’t you?”



Drake smiled smugly. “Katiya is quite a good actress. We spent the first month of our marriage pretending to dislike each other,” he said with a laugh. “Although it didn’t take much pretending, at least in the beginning. Gradually, we let people think we were growing fond of each other. Katiya told her mother that she was falling in love with me. Her mother naturally told mine. We were quite convincing.”



“And when you had convinced everyone, Andrei returned to the Fortress.”



“He had returned every night since the wedding. He slept in my bed. I slept in his. No one knew. I think she must have conceived the first night. A clever plan, do you not agree?”



“I guess so, but what will happen if Rodin finds out?”



“That, I cannot predict.”



“Nothing good, I bet,” Elena muttered.



“Of that you can be sure,” Drake agreed. “But let us not worry about that now. We are together. Let us make the most of it.”



“Your cat came back.”



“Have you forgotten what I told you?” he asked with a laugh. “I do not have a cat.”



“It’s you, isn’t it?” she asked, stabbing him in the chest with a forefinger. “You’re the cat.”



He grinned at her. “Finally figured that out, did you? It took you long enough.”



“How is that possible?”



“Those of us born to Liliana are able to shape-shift. It is a rare ability, but useful, when you have a stranger in the house.”



“You could have told me!”



“It was more fun this way. And it allowed me to watch over you during the day.”



She blew out a sigh, wondering if she would ever learn all there was to know about this extraordinary man. But there was no time to ask now, because he was kissing her again, leading her up the stairs, pressing her down on the bed, his body covering hers. And there was no more need for thought.



Later, lying in his arms, Elena ran her fingers down the crooked scar along his neck. “How did you get that?”



“Does it matter? It is an old wound.”



“I thought vampire wounds healed without a scar.”



“Most do, but not ones inflicted with silver.”



“Oh. I’d still like to know how you got it.”



He looked past her, as if traveling backward in time. “Many years ago a band of gypsies camped down by the lake. I heard their music one night, and because I was lonely, I went down to watch them dance. Luiza was one of the dancers. She was young, no more than fifteen or sixteen, and very beautiful, with clear olive skin and long red hair. I went back to their camp every night for several weeks, drawn by the music and the dancing. They were a happy people, filled with the kind of joy that was lacking in my own life, in my own kind.



“One night, Luiza followed me home. She declared she was in love with me. I told her there was no future for us, that her band would be leaving in a few days and that I could not go with them. She begged me to make love to her.” He shook his head. “She was too young. For all her flirtatious ways, she was innocent in the ways of men and women.”



“What happened?” Elena asked.



“I sent her away. Late that night, she came to the castle. I was on the ramparts, watching the gypsies pack, when she burst into the room. She told me she did not want to live without me. She pulled a dagger out of her sleeve and dragged the blade over her wrist. I do not think she meant to cut so deeply, but she was young and foolish and the dagger was very sharp. I am afraid the scent of her blood brought out the vampire in me.



“Luiza stared at me, her eyes wide. I imagine my own eyes had gone red by then. She backed away from me. I tried to tell her not to be afraid, that I would not hurt her. I knew I had to get to her soon, to stop the bleeding. When I reached for her, she flailed wildly with the knife. When I reached for her again, she stumbled and fell on the blade. It pierced her heart.”



“That’s so sad,” Elena murmured. “But it wasn’t your fault.”



He grunted softly. He had carried the guilt for Luiza’s death for centuries. It was one of the reasons he had stayed away from people, never letting himself get too close, never letting himself care, until Elena wandered into Wolfram Castle and turned his life and his world upside down.



Chapter 22



Tavian Dinescu stared up at Wolfram Castle. He had seen the delivery trucks wending their way up the long path to the old place, seen the utility vans of other vendors coming and going. Had Lord Drake sold the place? That seemed the only logical explanation for the sudden flurry of renovations and repairs that had been going on the last few days.



He rubbed a hand over his jaw. Were there also people working in the old garden behind the kitchen?



Perhaps it was time he paid an official visit to the castle’s residents. After all, as chief of police, it was his duty to know what was going on in his jurisdiction.



Elena poured herself a cup of coffee, her gaze moving around the kitchen. Funny how a few modern appliances and some new furniture had changed a drafty old castle into a comfortable home. She could hardly wait until the electricians had completed wiring the castle.



Andrei and Katiya had disappeared into one of the bedrooms soon after they arrived, and as far as Elena knew, they hadn’t come out since.



As soon as she finished her coffee, she was going to drive into the city for a few things. It would have been much faster and closer to shop in town, but she didn’t want to risk running into her uncle.



The thought had no sooner crossed her mind when the new doorbell rang. She was smiling when she opened the door, thinking it was one of the workmen, only to come face-to-face with the devil himself.



A bolt of fear raced through Elena when she saw her uncle standing there. She told herself there was nothing to fear. Drake had warned her uncle to leave her alone, yet here he was, at her door.



“Elena!” Dinescu said jovially. “How well you look, my dear. May I come in?”



“No!” She tried to slam the door, but he blocked it with his foot.



“Now, now,” he said, barely suppressed anger in his voice. “Is that any way to treat the man who took you in and raised you as his own daughter? Who fed you and clothed you and cared for you all those years after your parents died? Surely I deserve a little hospitality in return.”



Elbowing past her, Dinescu strode into the room. He glanced around, noting the costly wall-mounted TV, the fancy entertainment center, the expensive new furniture.



“You’ve done very well for yourself, haven’t you?” he remarked, his eyes narrowing. “How did you manage to snag such a catch, I wonder? Were you sleeping around behind my back like that slutty cousin of yours?”



“I . . . no . . . how dare you!” she sputtered. “Get out of here!”



“You were to be mine.” Grabbing Elena by the hair, he forced her head back. “Mine!”



“I would rather die,” she said, gasping for air. “Let me go!”



He laughed, a harsh, ugly sound, and she knew in that moment that he intended to kill her or worse.



Spurred by fear, Elena stomped down on her uncle’s instep as hard as she could, then kicked him in the shin. He grunted with pain, loosening his hold on her hair. She twisted her head to the side, jerking her hair free of his grasp, although it felt as though she left a handful behind.



Freed of his hold, she ran for the door, but he was right behind her.



“Oh, no, you don’t!” he roared.



Her hand was on the latch when he caught her. Face distorted with lust and rage, he grabbed her T-shirt and ripped it down the front, exposing her bra and the bare expanse of her belly. “I will have you,” he repeated with a leer. “Right here. Right now. And then I’ll take you to visit Jenica.”



Elena opened her mouth to scream. She knew the vampires were resting and likely wouldn’t hear her, but she prayed one of the workmen would come to her aid. Before she could make a sound, Dinescu slapped one ham-sized hand over her mouth, trapping the cry in her throat.



He had her bent backward over his arm when the cat came barreling down the stairs. Snarling, Smoke launched himself at Dinescu, his claws raking both sides of the man’s face, slicing his cheeks open to the bone.



With a shriek of pain, Dinescu released Elena and bolted out the front door.



Elena sank to the floor, her arms wrapped around her waist. She stared at the cat, wishing for sunset. She needed Drake to hold her, needed to tell him what her uncle had said.



Smoke padded quietly toward her, bright yellow eyes staring up at her. “That was a brave thing you did,” she said, stroking the cat’s head. “Thank you.”



At her touch, there was a ripple in the air and Drake knelt beside her, stark naked.



Elena blinked at him, then burst out laughing, but her laughter quickly turned to tears. “Did you hear what he said?”



With a nod, Drake gathered her into his arms. A glance closed and locked the door, and then he carried Elena up the stairs, tucked her into bed, and slid under the covers beside her. “Are you all right?”



“He killed her, didn’t he?”



“There is little doubt of that now.”



“But can we prove it?” she asked anxiously. “If he killed Jenica, he has to pay for what he’s done.”



“He will,” Drake said, his voice filled with quiet menace. “Never doubt it for a minute.”



The town lay dark and quiet under a bright yellow moon when Drake knocked on Tavian Dinescu’s front door.



Standing on the porch, Drake watched the lights go on inside the house, heard the man’s heavy footsteps as Dinescu shuffled toward the foyer.



Drake caught the faint scent of metal and gun oil, heard the rapid beat of Dinescu’s heart just before the door swung open.



Dinescu’s bulk filled the doorway. He would have made a comical figure, clad in a white T-shirt and a pair of loose-fitting pajama bottoms, save for the large pistol held in one meaty fist.