Blood Secret (17 page)
Sinjin knew what he should do—he should run now and get James. James depended on him, and he had the chance now to grab the boy and escape. But even as logic told him to protect the child, he couldn’t make his feet move.
Hell.
James was a defenseless boy. Sinjin had promised Emma he would not let anything happen to the lad. He had a clear choice: help Lucy and risk getting James killed or lose the boy forever to the dragons, leaving Lucy to her fate.
He was a dragon slayer. The choice should be obvious, but he was not going to leave Lucy’s side. The fact that he had been personally responsible for the deaths of more dragons than he wanted to count? It should tell him to go, to accept what he couldn’t change. At this moment, holding Lucy by the wrists and pinning her lithe, delicate body against him, those memories weighed heavily on his conscience.
Still, he couldn’t let her go. He knew he was going to protect her.
Though in a few moments Lucy was going to find out what he was.
“Lucy!” her brother bellowed. “Where in blazes are you? Upstairs? Come down here at once!”
Sinjin looked down at her. Held tight to his body, Lucy stiffened. “I cannot believe it,” she muttered, and even Sinjin winced at the fire in her tones, fire directed at her wastrel dragon of a brother. “He vanished off the face of the earth and he is commanding me to show myself at once?”
Sinjin remembered how Lucy’s eyes had flashed fire at him on the night she had come to offer her body for her brother’s debts. She had been trying to play the demure maiden, but she couldn’t. Pride and anger had betrayed her. She had faced him with her stubborn chin held high, and her fierce, angry eyes and strident voice had all but singed him.
She would be very, very angry when she learned he was a dragon slayer.
He could try taking her with him by force, but he realized he couldn’t do it. “Shall we go down and meet your brother?” he asked.
She frowned. “No, he can get himself up here and find me.”
“If he had any sense, he would run for his life now,” Sinjin murmured.
“Indeed,” she said.
Footsteps rushed across the tiled foyer and her brother shouted up the stairs, “Hell and the devil, Lucy! I’ve had to ride like the blazes across the godforsaken moors to get to you. I’m soaking wet, freezing cold, and exhausted. What were you thinking to come haring off here?”
Sinjin had relaxed his grip on Lucy’s arms. Too late, Sinjin realized his mistake. She wrenched free and darted down the stairs, with one hand crushing her nightgown and robe to hold up the hems. She stopped three steps down, and her brother was at the foot of the steps. “You tell me why it was necessary for me to come, Jack,” she cried. “Why is a boy being held in our house against his will? Where in heaven’s name did you run
away?
Did you really think I would let Helena marry that overweight, overbearing, slobbering ancient roué to pay your debts?”
away?
Did you really think I would let Helena marry that overweight, overbearing, slobbering ancient roué to pay your debts?”
Lucy stomped down the steps until she was only two from the bottom. Sinjin could not see her face, but he could imagine the fire was raging in her indigo eyes. Certainly the sight of her anger had stunned her brother. The Earl of Wrenshire stopped at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at his sister with his mouth gaping.
Sinjin stood in the shadows at the top of the stairs. Wrenshire would do one of two things: either grab his sister at once and try to physically haul her with him, or pretend nothing was wrong, hoping to lure her outside, likely to a carriage, so he could whisk her away.
The young, dark-haired earl crossed his arms over his chest. “I am the head of the household, Lucy. Decisions made by the clan are my concern, not yours. You had no need to come here about this dragon-boy. He is fine where he is. And I did not run away. You are neither my mother nor my wife—I do not need to explain my every action to you. I spent a few days with friends—”
“You were living in a brothel. Accumulating even more debt, I believe, considering the scandalous things you were purchasing—”
“How in—Good heavens, Lucy, you went to that
brothel?
You had no business going to a such a place. If you were seen, it will be a scandal.”
brothel?
You had no business going to a such a place. If you were seen, it will be a scandal.”
“Do. Not. Make. This. My. Fault.” Lucy enunciated each word clearly, coldly, distinctly.
Yet her brother was proving to be a complete dolt. He planted his foot on the first step and scowled at her. “Lucy, you are to come home with me immediately. It is not safe for you here—”
“Are you planning to take me home, Jack? Or do you have something else in mind?”
“What are you talking about, Luce?”
“Have you found some man to give me to, just as you were going to let Helena marry the Odious Earl? Jack—”
Suddenly, her shoulders jerked. Her voice broke on her brother’s name, and she took in a sobbing breath. “You saved me from Allan Ferrars! How could you hand Helena to a man who is just as bad? How could you, just to save your own skin?”
“Enough, Lucy. You are coming with me now.”
“No.”
Another set of footsteps came quietly—it had to be Wrenshire’s companion, believing he was moving with stealth. Sinjin listened carefully. Then he heard a sound he knew very well—it was the soft resistant “cry” of a string being stretched.
Hades. He jumped out of the gloom and tore down the steps. But the other man leapt out, leveled a loaded crossbow along his sight line. Sinjin halted on the stairs, frozen. If the crossbow was pointing at him, he would have attacked.
The blackguard was pointing it at Lucy.
In the moment Sinjin hesitated, the earl jumped up a few steps and grasped Lucy’s arm.
“No, Sinjin,” Lucy gasped. “Please go.”
“Sinjin,” Wrenshire repeated. He tightened his grip on his sister’s wrist. Sinjin took a step forward, but the bastard with the crossbow grinned and Lucy cried, “Please don’t move, Sinjin.”
“You know him, Lucy? What in hell is going on?”
“Of course I know him,” she shouted at her brother. “He holds your debts. Your selfish behavior, your awful plans for Helena forced me to go to him. I was going to beg him to forgive your debts—”
Wrenshire let go of her wrist, but he grasped her by her shoulder and pulled her down the steps. He barked a command at the frightened-looking footmen who stood at the door. The earl roared at them to leave, to make themselves scarce. Lucy had no choice but to follow her brother down the steps, stumbling as he roughly hauled her with him. Sinjin couldn’t attack—not with a crossbow aimed at her.
“What did you do, Lucy?” Wrenshire barked. “Hell, what did you do? Do you know what he is?” He shook her, and Sinjin tried to calculate odds. If he moved, would the bastard with the crossbow turn the weapon on him and away from Lucy? Or was the bloody wretch willing to shoot Lucy?
No, there was no way the man would shoot Lucy, and if he didn’t act, she would be in danger. Sinjin was ready to spring when the earl snarled, “The Duke of Greystone is a dragon slayer, Lucy. He’s planning to kill you.”
“What are you saying? It cannot be true. He is—he is a vampire.”
“Yes, and a dragon slayer,” Wrenshire repeated. “He was given immortality so he could hunt our kind for eternity. Did you ask him how many of our kind he has butchered? It is hundreds. That is why our father took his nephew—if Father had not kept the lad here, the duke would have killed us all. It was the only way to protect us.”
Lucy whispered, “I don’t believe it.”
“Believe what you like. I, however, plan to take care of it.” Wrenshire jerked up his head and gave the cold command to his friend. “Shoot him.”
14
Rescue
“N
o!”
o!”
Lucy’s shout of fear and fury came too late. The earl’s companion had pulled the trigger even before Wrenshire finished giving his command. Sinjin anticipated it and he dove forward and to the side, somersaulting in the air. Something whistled past him and a cold sensation lanced his left arm.
Sinjin landed hard on his feet, then lost his balance and dropped to one knee as the cold vanished and his arm screamed with white-hot pain.
The shooter had anticipated he would try to jump out of the way and guessed he would go to the right, hoping to go wide of the shot. The damned blackguard had been right and the arrow had almost found its mark. As he lurched back to his feet, Sinjin touched the slice that crested the muscle just below his shoulder. His coat was sliced and blood oozed onto his fingers.
He released his arm, knowing the cut would begin to heal. Pain stung but he was used to pain. He rushed for Wrenshire’s henchman before the man could reload. Recognizing the weapon was now useless, the man slid a stake out of his sleeve, letting it drop into his hand.
Even facing a man holding a stake, Sinjin had to see what was happening to Lucy. Her face was white, her hand clamped to her mouth in horror. She grasped her brother’s coat and shook him desperately. “Stop this, Jack!” she pleaded.
“Lucy, stay out of the way. You are going to get hurt.” Her brother pushed her back, and she fell over her skirts, landing on her bottom on the tile floor. “Dear God, Lucy, you must go. Go to the carriage. Now!”
Sinjin lurched toward her, wanting to ensure she was not hurt, and in his peripheral vision, he saw the stake slash toward his chest. He jumped into the air, vaulting over backward, landing on his feet. He swung his leg out instantly, catching his attacker in the chest and sending the man sprawling back.
But his assailant leapt back to his feet quickly, springing up with his back arched.
Strong. Damned strong and agile. Obviously not a mortal.
The thunder of footsteps warned that servants were coming. Wrenshire shouted at the first footmen to arrive, “This man is an enemy of our family, but you will stay back and leave this battle to us. I want you all to go downstairs to the kitchens. Wait there until I command you to return.”
From the floor, where she had landed on her hip, with her skirts spilling around her, Lucy cried, “No, what he is saying is not true—”
“The poor girl is delusional,” Wrenshire yelled. “I am the master here. You will listen to me.”
The servants hesitated, but then their master howled, “Go. I will protect my sister. He is the one who pushed her down. If you do not obey I will have your heads.”
Quivering, the few servants retreated, including maids and a frightened-looking Mrs. Billings, who clutched a brown woolen dressing gown around her.
As soon as the servants left, Wrenshire grabbed Lucy by the arm, and dragged her to her feet. “Finish him,” he barked to his accomplice.
As Sinjin and his attacker circled each other, Sinjin flicked his gaze back and forth between Lucy and the stake. She slapped her brother in the chest, digging her heels against the smooth tiles, which didn’t do anything to stop Wrenshire. “You must stop this, Jack. You cannot kill him! He has done nothing to hurt me. I don’t believe he is a dragon slayer.”
“Lucy, you have to listen to me. It’s the truth. Don’t make this any harder for me than it is. You will do as you are told. If you want to save this blasted family of ours, you will go out to the carriage now. You will get inside, and you will wait for me to finish this villain.”
“I am not going anywhere.”
“This is madness,” Wrenshire snapped. “How can you be championing a dragon slayer?”
“If he is a dragon slayer, why did he not kill me? He’s had ample chances to do it.”
Wrenshire’s eyes bulged and a vein throbbed in his temple. “For Christ’s sake, why don’t you believe me? Of course, he kept you alive—he needed you to bring him to his nephew.”
“Once I did, why didn’t he kill me then?”
The fiend with the stake took another swing, slashing toward his heart. Sinjin landed a punch on his jaw, one that would have snapped the neck of a mortal. The man’s head lurched back, but then he regained his balance and stabbed again. He missed, then stooped to his dirty boots and hauled a dagger out of a sheath in the leather. “Bloody vampire.”
Sinjin knew what he planned: to gut him with the knife, which would bring even a vampire to his knees, then drive in the stake while he was too weak to move.
“I don’t know, Lucy, why he waited to kill you, but I guarantee it was what he planned to do—” Then her brother roared with anger. Still gripping her wrist, he cupped Lucy’s chin, and forced her head to tip. Wrenshire touched her wound. “He bit you?”
She struggled to shove his hand away. “I
let
him do it. This way, he would not drink from anyone mortal. He stopped when he was drinking from me. He willingly
stopped
. If he is a dragon slayer, surely he would have killed me then.”
let
him do it. This way, he would not drink from anyone mortal. He stopped when he was drinking from me. He willingly
stopped
. If he is a dragon slayer, surely he would have killed me then.”
Her brother pushed her toward the door. “What did he do to you, Lucy? Did he touch you? Force himself on you?”
“No, you made all that unnecessary.” Her voice was a choked whisper, but Sinjin could hear everything, even the labored thud of her heart. “I learned you owed thirty thousand pounds to him. What do you think I had to do to save us?”
“God ... Lucy ... no.” Wrenshire’s face went chalk-white. “Not with him ... how could you?”
“I was trying to save this family.” She threw the words at her brother.
Hell, her brother’s reaction had obviously devastated her. She was fighting, but it was the pain of hurt pride, of despair.
Wrentshire drew out a pistol and Lucy gasped. “You are coming with me.
Now.
”
Now.
”
The gun wasn’t pointed at her, but Sinjin didn’t know how far her brother was willing to go. He had to go after her. It was time to bring an end to this irritating battle. He moved at preternatural speed, slamming his fists into the gut of his attacker. Silver flashed in the corner of his vision, and he felt the knife drive into his shoulder. Over and over, the blade flailed into him, but he ignored the pain, picked up the man, and threw him. Wrenshire’s lackey slammed into one of the marble columns that surrounded the foyer and collapsed unconscious on the floor.
Sinjin strode toward Lucy and her brother when a masculine cackle reached his ears. “Not so fast, Yer Grace.”
Then he heard a muffled cry. He jerked around. Another thug held James, with his hand clamped over the boy’s mouth and a knife held near the small neck. Lucy gave a muted cry. Sinjin let his fists drop to his sides. “Don’t hurt him,” he said to Wrenshire. “Stake me if you want, but don’t hurt the child.”
Tears dribbled onto James’s cheeks. Rage snapped and roared inside Sinjin. He wanted to kill, but he couldn’t take the risk of getting James hurt. He would cause pain to these men later.
“How could you hurt him, Jack?” Lucy yelled. “Stop this!”
“Go outside, Lucy.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Sinjin saw the earl’s gaze focus on him, then on James. Wrenshire was not looking at Lucy, but she was glaring at her brother with murderous fury in her eyes. Before Sinjin could even move, she lunged at her brother. She grabbed the muzzle of the pistol and wrenched it out of his hand.
Lucy held the pistol, both hands wrapped around the handle to support it. But her shoulders jerked with the effort of keeping the heavy weapon pointed straight, and she was shaking, with her index finger close to the trigger. First she pointed it at Sinjin, then she moved and held the pistol with the muzzle pointed at her brother.
“Put it down, Lucy,” her brother barked. “For God’s sake, what are you doing? You could shoot me by mistake. And if you shoot me, Perkins up there will likely kill the boy.”
“I don’t know who to trust anymore,” she whispered. She swung the pistol and pointed it back at him.
Sinjin nodded. “Keep pointing it at me, love. That way they won’t hurt James. In fact, you may have to shoot me.”
“Don’t, Lucy,” Wrenshire growled. “A pistol ball won’t kill him. It will not kill a vampire. Unless you want the boy to be hurt, you will give the pistol back to me.”
“Why did you take it out, Jack? Did you plan to use it on me?”
“For Christ’s sake, Lucy, of course not.”
Her eyes were wide with pain and Sinjin flinched as they focused on him and he saw the raw agony on her face. Her lips were parted, her forehead lined with anguish. “Is it true, Sinjin? Are you a dragon slayer? Were you planning all along to hurt my family?”
“It is my duty to slay, love. But in the end, I knew I could never hurt you, and because I care about you, I was not going to hurt your family.”
“Charming.” Wrenshire sneered at him, his lip curled in the sort of snarl a man gave before he kicked a dying enemy. “That is a blasted lie, I suspect. He is playing a game with you, Lucy. He is telling you lies so you will turn against me, your own brother.”
“Tell your thug upstairs to let James go,” she said coldly. “The evidence I have with my own eyes is that the duke loves his family, loves them enough to take any risk for them. You, however, are willing to terrify a young boy.”
“Perkins, let the child go. My sister is right. This is inhuman. We are better than this.” Wrenshire glowered at Perkins, then glared at Sinjin. “He is a dragon slayer, Lucy. Dragons destroy slayers every time they have the chance. I cannot leave him alive.”
“You will. We will let him go, and let him take James.”
“No. No, that I cannot do. The boy is a dragon. Father explained that he is in danger from the slayers. The duke will tell you that, if he decides to be honest for once.” The earl’s lips cocked up in a smirk.
Damn, the bloody twit had him there.
“Is this true? Is James in danger from other slayers? From you?”
“God, not from me.” His mind flicked over his options. He couldn’t get James away from a man with a knife. What he needed to do was buy time. “Yes, what your brother says is true. James could be in danger from the slayer who commands me. But I intend to protect James—”
“And that is why we have him?” Wrenshire goaded. “Because you were taking such good care of him?”
“Stop, Jack. Stop!”
“Go with your brother, Lucy. Take James with you and keep him safe. I trust him with you. I know you can help ease his fears and comfort him. I will leave you alone.”
“Oh yes, you will.” Wrenshire’s eyes narrowed.
Sinjin sensed motion—he had been focused on Lucy and James and had not heard the sound of another man’s breathing until now.
Swinging around on his heel, he turned right into the crossbow bolt as it shot across the foyer. The other lackey of the earl’s had reloaded his weapon.
Sinjin grasped at the shaft of the arrow—it had missed his heart, but the pain was excruciating. He knew the best thing to do. Buy time. He let out a groan and collapsed.
He heard a little boy’s howl of fear and anguish.
Damn them for doing this in front of James. The poor boy had been through so much, and now he had been terrified by a thug and had seen his uncle—the last of his family—shot.
Hell, Sinjin thought, he cared for Lucy, but he was going to make her brother pay.
“Wrap your arms around my neck, James,” Lucy whispered in the boy’s ear. “Hold me tight. I’ll carry you.”
Trying to stay calm for James was the only thing keeping her from falling to pieces. She wanted to shake her brother. She wanted to hit him, then scream at him until her voice went hoarse.
She knew Jack was careless, knew he had all the worst traits of wealthy gentlemen: he could be arrogant, he was selfish, and he always fell in with the worst of men. But he had transformed into a monster. Into someone she was ashamed of.
At this moment, she hated him. How could he have allowed Sinjin to be shot? How could he have let such a thing happen in front of a child?
Poor James was sobbing, but quietly, as though he feared punishment if his tears were heard.
“It is all right to cry,” Lucy murmured, cuddling him tighter. She was astonished he had not sunk back into his vacant, unresponsive state. She stroked his soft hair, growing damp where pellets of ice melted on his head. Her brother had not allowed her to dress James. The boy wore only his nightshirt, which was also wet, clinging to his slender frame. His feet were bare. She was wearing only her nightdress, her robe, and slippers. Cold seeped into her feet, and the wind-whipped hail pelted against her face. Her clothes were swiftly becoming wet. She kept James’s head tucked against her neck to protect him.
Jack held her by her shoulder, propelling her to the carriage.
“I am sorry, Lucy,” he said.
“No. I do not believe you are, anymore. I don’t know what you have become.” To think she had hated changing into dragon form because she hated to think she was not human. Her brother had become more of a beast than she could have dreamed.
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