Blood Secret (22 page)
The dragon was fighting for its life. So was he. And he was not going to lose.
He had chased the dragon here, filled with hatred, filled with the need to make one more beast pay.
Now he was going to kill it.
He launched forward and drove his sword into the beast’s chest. As soon as the blade drove in, the dragon collapsed. It was dying and it suddenly transformed back into human form. Into a man, years younger than he was when he’d been turned into a vampire.
Fear filled the man’s blue eyes.
“I’ve never killed,” the man whispered hoarsely. “Why ... why attack?”
“You are a dragon. A dragon cannot be suffered to live.”
The man whispered a name. A woman’s name. Obviously the man’s beloved. But she was a dragon, too, and she would have to die.
Sinjin watched the life drain out of the man’s face. Any sense of victory and satisfaction was gone. He felt empty. The wind howled around him.
Suddenly, he was looking over the edge of the cliff. He could see faces, hundreds of faces. The human faces of dying dragons. All reaching out to him. Pleading for life. Pleading that they had never killed, that they should not die—
Sinjin jolted up. He was in a bed, not a coffin, so he didn’t slam his head into a wooden lid. It had been a dream. Just a nightmare—he’d had these dreams every day since he had brought Lucy to the brothel.
It had been easy to kill dragons before, when he’d believed he was killing beasts to protect mortals.
Hell, how many dragons had he killed who were like Lucy? Who had good hearts? Who were good and loving and kind? How many lives had he taken for a vengeance that had nothing to do with those victims?
He hung his head. It felt like he had been buried alive, with earth pressing down on him.
Kicking the sheets back, he got up. Something compelled him to find Lucy, though he didn’t know why, not when he felt so damned guilty for what he had done.
It was early evening, and at this time of day the brothel was quiet. Almost quiet: his vampiric hearing picked out soft footfalls and muffled voices. Someone was creeping through the house.
Senses on alert, he moved with preternatural speed to follow the voices. He tracked them to the rear of the house on the main floor. Rounding a corner, he found three lithe forms in cloaks huddled at a door.
“Lucy,” he barked. “Where in blazes do you think you are going?”
The two other Drake girls jumped into the air in surprise. Lucy whirled around and faced him. “I thought it was better to take our chances, rather than pray that we aren’t killed by dragon slayers.”
His heart clenched in his chest. “I vowed I would never hurt you, and I will never let anyone else hurt you. It’s not safe for any of you out there. Please, Lucy—” His voice broke. He tried again. “Lucy, please don’t go. Not yet. Mrs. Simpson told me what happened with James, and how you were the only one who could break through to him. Just as you did before.”
He had managed to convince her to stay.
As Sinjin went with Lucy to see James, he knew exactly what he had to do to protect her. But first, he wanted to talk to her about his nephew.
He found the boy playing with blocks with a footman. The liveried servant was on his knees looking distinctly uncomfortable. Sinjin dismissed the man, and he grasped James under the shoulders and tossed the boy in the air. James squealed with delight. Sinjin caught him. They roughhoused on the bed, then he sat with Lucy as James had his dinner.
Since the activities of the brothel were going on downstairs, James was having his meal in his bedchamber.
Sinjin had requested sherry and had poured a glass for Lucy. They stood by the mantel and he said the words that had been burning on his lips since Mrs. Simpson had told him what Lucy had done, again, for his nephew. “Thank you, love,” he said through a tight throat. “Thank you again.”
She was leaning on the mantel, studying the licking flames of the fire. He moved to her, and stroked her dark curls. But Lucy flinched and took a step away.
What had he expected? She was now coming to accept what he was. Hell, when he thought of what he had done to dragons, what he had seen in his nightmares, he didn’t blame her for walking away from him. But he had promised her he would not hurt her, and he would ensure she and her family were safe. He now knew how to do it.
“I’m sorry.” She faced him. “I don’t understand,” she said quietly, her beautiful, darkly lashed indigo eyes gazing at him. “James was not like that with me, when we were in the carriage. He was unhappy and he was crying because he was afraid and he thought he had lost you. But he did not retreat inside himself. I was amazed that he didn’t. I feared he would, since he had been through such a horrible shock so quickly. When Mrs. Simpson brought me up here, and I found him in this blank state, I was stunned at first. I managed to break it by tickling him. I thought it must be because of the shock ... but now I am not sure.”
“I believe I know why he did not retreat into a vacant, lost state with you, Lucy.”
“Why?”
“It was because he was with you. He felt safe with you—he didn’t need to hide. You brought him out again. Despite what he endured, you made him laugh. You are the only person who can do that with him, Lucy.”
She shook her head in a firm, matter-of-fact way. “I don’t think it is that. I am not sure the shock did affect him... . Would it take so long to do that? Perhaps it could. He did endure the carriage accident. Though, when he spoke about that, he described it as exciting.”
“If not the shock, then what would put him back in that state?”
“I don’t know. I wondered if you did. Perhaps it was just delayed.”
“Or perhaps it was because he had you there with him before the accident, and then after it, he might have feared he had lost you, too,” Sinjin said. “That it was the fear of losing you that did it.”
She frowned. “But he knew you were safe then. No, it doesn’t make sense. There is something else. Mrs. Simpson told me that she saw James levitate over the bed. It is possible he did that because he is a dragon, but I am not sure. I’ve never heard of dragons doing such a thing. But then, James is obviously a special and unique dragon.” She narrowed her eyes, obviously considering deeply. “His father was a dragon, obviously. Was he a special dragon? What clan did he belong to?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, love. Emma ran away with him to marry him. Dragon slayers pursued them, killed him, and brought her back, with James. I don’t know anything about the man she married. She would never talk about him.”
“I am not surprised—if she loved him and he was taken from her so violently.” Tears glittered in Lucy’s eyes. “Poor James.”
She was so very correct. Emma had suffered so much and that had to be why she had taken her own life. James had known so much loss and pain. It had been the prince who had sent slayers to hunt down Emma and her husband. And now the prince was threatening to take more innocents. “This has to end,” Sinjin said.
“What do you mean? End?” Lucy paled.
He could guess what she was thinking. That he meant to end things by doing his duty and slaying her and her family. “I am going to ensure you, your sisters, and James are safe.”
He wished he could kiss her. One last kiss. But she would pull away from him, and hell, he didn’t want that to be his last memory of her.
“Will you look after James for me? While I am gone?”
Her dark brows made a deep vee. “Where are you going?”
“I am going to the prince, love.”
“Why?”
“To put a stop to this. To make sure he cannot have you. Or James. Or any other member of your family.”
Lucy’s eyes went saucer wide. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I am not letting you go alone.”
17
Horror
F
og coiled up the streets, slithering around their faces, muting the light from the burning street flares. Lucy pushed back her hood and gazed up at the elegant mansion inhabited by the dragon slayer that Sinjin called “the prince.”
og coiled up the streets, slithering around their faces, muting the light from the burning street flares. Lucy pushed back her hood and gazed up at the elegant mansion inhabited by the dragon slayer that Sinjin called “the prince.”
“He lives only three streets from my home,” she whispered. Civilized society was surely madness: mortal enemies could live, separated by only a few streets, and never encounter each other. Anyway, what would have happened if they had met on the street, or in a park, or at a crowded ball? She doubted the prince would have attacked—he was pretending to be a Russian count, visiting England, and it would hardly be good
ton
to launch an attack out in public.
ton
to launch an attack out in public.
Sinjin snarled at the elegant house. Literally his lip curled like an angry, defensive dog and he let out a growl. “I should not have let you come.”
“You didn’t let me,” she pointed out. “In the end, I had to follow you.”
“Yes, and once I discovered you I should have spanked your pretty bottom and sent you home. This man wants to destroy you. Do not make his work easier by presenting yourself on a silver platter.” He grasped her wrist and hauled her away from the faint glow of the streetlamp. “We are going to return to the brothel. You cannot go into that house with me. Come, let us go.”
He began to walk and with his hand clamped around her right forearm, she had no choice but to match his long strides. She knew he was hurrying her back to the elegant brothel—which was situated only a few blocks away, on the fringe of Mayfair.
“What were you going to do? Did you hope to convince the prince to not hurt me? To leave my sisters and James alone?”
Still he didn’t answer. He just stalked relentlessly toward the end of the street. The jingle of carriage traces, the clop of hooves, the rattle of wheels came out of the fog.
She took quick steps so she could walk at his side, instead of being dragged behind him. “Do you truly believe the prince would listen to you? Or were you going to fight him—?”
He stopped so quickly she walked into his chest. His hands settled on her upper arms. “Love, I was not planning to go to him and plead for your life. I was planning to kill him.”
She cast a longing and frustrated glance back to the massive house. “Then let us go and do it.”
He bowed his head, gently shaking it as though he was bemused and holding in a grin, or a harsh, jaded laugh. “It’s not as easy as that.”
“If you could do it, how could my presence make any difference?”
“You could become a hostage far too easily.”
“I am a dragon—”
Her words were lost, for he pulled her to him, wrapped his arms tight around her back, and covered her mouth with his. It shocked her, lifting her onto her toes. His mouth was hot. Searing heat sizzled all the way to her toes.
People passed them on the sidewalk, and she heard sniggers and gasps. Sinjin kissed her with fierce passion until all the strolling couples and servants had moved on. Then he let her go abruptly. He dragged his hand through his hair. “You are young, female, and have no experience with fighting.”
She touched her lower lip, it was soft and plump from the pressure of his kiss. “Since this prince wants to kill me, I am going to have to fight for my life, aren’t I?”
His expression hardened. “I will never allow you to be in that kind of danger.”
“But won’t that mean you will be killed?” At his frown, she added, “Mrs. Simpson gave me tea, and told me quite a bit about you.”
“Did she?” He stared at her guardedly.
“She told me you could be killed, yet you walked over to this demon’s house, with no one to help you. Do you even have weapons with you?”
To her astonishment, he shook his head.
Then she realized ... his family was gone, and he had made a vow to serve the dragon slayers for eternity ... or at least for as long as he “lived.” Suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to her. “Were you willing to die? Is that it? Is that why you came unarmed and alone?”
His lip twisted. “You are a very astute woman. The prince would never believe I would try to kill him and be willing to destroy myself to do it.”
Impulsively she grasped him, pressing her fingers into his hard biceps, through his coat. They were in the middle of a sidewalk in Mayfair, but her heart ached so much for him she had to speak. “You have never stopped grieving for your family, have you? It is not just about revenge. You aren’t afraid to die, because ... because you miss them, but you have James and he needs you.”
“Killing the prince would give him better protection than I could. The slayers take all their guidance from him. Without him, there would be battles for power, internal struggles, and it would give you time to ensure your family was safe. It would even save your brother.”
“But what of James? It would devastate him to lose you.”
“I’ve lost all of them. They are all gone. Emma was the last—and now she is gone, too.”
“All the more reason for you to ensure you stay alive. For James! You know what it is to suffer from losing your family. If it hurt you so deeply, what would it do to him?”
“You are telling me I am selfish for thinking of sacrificing myself to kill the prince?”
“Not selfish ... but I will not allow it.”
“God, Lucy.” He clasped her waist, lifting her off her feet. In a heartbeat, he had taken them around a corner of the street and into a narrow mews. Here, there was a little bit of light spilling out of the stables, but it was almost completely swallowed by the damp fog. Sinjin stopped, his chest heaving, and he set her gently down. Her back brushed against the hard stone of a garden wall and he braced his arms above her head. “It’s hell, you know. To want something so much and to know it is impossible to have.”
“What do you want so much? Perhaps it isn’t hopeless. Perhaps we can make it possible.”
It was torture now to hold Lucy and kiss her. Sinjin looked into her eyes and remembered ... not his family dying, but the deaths of dragons. The images that haunted him in his dreams during his day sleep now flashed through his thoughts.
How could she let him kiss her? Hell, hatred at what he had done was rushing through his veins.
Tenderly, her hand stroked his cheek. His pulse, which was normally the slow, lazy thump of a vampire’s heart, was now pounding in his throat.
“I cannot imagine how horrible it must have been for you to lose your family. To lose so many people you loved,” she whispered. How soft and sweet her voice was. It almost made him believe he could capture her love. But how could he? At some point, she would realize what he had done and how many deaths he had on his conscience.
Caring for Lucy had forced him to put a human face on the dragons he had killed, and it was tearing him apart.
“It was.” But his voice went harsh. “Did you lose family to the slayers?”
Her eyes widened. In their dark blue depths, he read so much—a lifetime of memories of pain and loss. “Not any of my closest family. Father took care to protect us.”
Yes, and her father had taken James to keep Lucy and her family safe. Sinjin could no longer dredge up anger toward her father for that. Perhaps he could understand it. He had been driven by vengeance, and her father was driven by the immediate need to protect. All it revealed was that violence led to more violence and desperation made men commit hellish deeds.
“But I know other families who did. My father had friends who lost children.”
He flinched. He had never personally attacked young dragons, but he knew there was a faction of vicious slayers willing to kill anyone. He had fought the prince over it, and he had lost every argument. But he should have taken a stronger stand. He should have stopped those slayers before they could kill innocents. It would have been the noble thing to do, but he had not been noble.
“I had friends who lost gentlemen whom they loved. But I know that some dragons would fight back and they would try to destroy as many dragon slayers as they could. I don’t think it really helped them, but I understand why someone would do it, I think. I think I can understand the rage and the hurt that would drive someone to do it.” She touched his forearm, and he felt the soft graze of her fingers. “You lost your family, Sinjin, when you were young—it is horrible. Can you speak about it? It must have been very long ago.”
For years, he had been driven by revenge, but he had kept the memories locked away as deeply as he could. He never thought of his family. Never let himself try to imagine their faces, their voices. Across his heart, he had pulled thick gates of ice, and he was afraid to let them crack.
“Did you kill the dragons who took your family?” she whispered.
“I will never know,” he admitted. “I was nine years of age. My memories of who those dragons were are vague. I just remember pieces of that afternoon.” Christ, it hurt to remember, but he wanted to tell Lucy. “My family had taken curricles out to a picnicking place on our country estate. My brother Will and I were flying kites. I remember Will being so happy because he could finally get his kite to take off. He ran as mad as his little legs would carry him, clutching his string, with his kite rising and dipping precariously. He was only six and he was so small he could barely see over the tall grass of the meadow.”
These were memories he had never spoken of. As though Lucy knew how hard it was for him to dredge them up from deep in his cold heart, she cradled his jaw, letting her fingers stroke his lips. The gesture was comforting. He had no right to take comfort from this woman—hadn’t his nightmares reminded him of that? But he could not turn away from her warm hand, from her calm, entrancing eyes.
“It was the smell,” he said softly. “The smell was the first thing I noticed that was wrong. I smelled fire. At first, I feared the meadow had caught fire—it had been a dry summer, and there had been several blazes that started at cottages and farms and had spread wildly. I gathered up Will, and he was furious because his kite fell. He’d dropped its lead as I ran with him, and he’d lost it. When I reached my family, my father was trying to get us to safety. He got us all together—my mother, my three sisters, and I still carried Will—and we ran as quickly to the carriage as we could. But the servants had vanished and the carriage was also gone. To this day, I don’t know if they abandoned us, or whether our attackers killed them first, then removed the carriage so we couldn’t escape.”
Strangely, his body seemed to be trembling, just as it had on that afternoon. He remembered being confused and shaking as his father shouted at him. He had Will on his back and he was holding Will’s ankles and his younger brother had whined at the tightness of his grip. Then his father had yelled at him to be more careful. He remembered how his shoulders had been jerking uncontrollably, how tears had burned at his eyes. Will’s arms had been locked around his neck, making it hard to breathe.
“My father pointed to the woods. He told us to run to there and find places to hide. With Will on my back, I raced through the meadow. My father told me not to look back, but I did. The sun had dropped and the light burned into my eyes. They started to water, then tears came, and I stopped, which I wasn’t supposed to do. But my vision was a blur and I wiped at my eyes. I stopped running so I could see what was happening to the rest of my family. There were men wearing black cloaks. My father fought with them with his sword, and the blade was a strand of gold in the light. He plunged the sword into one of the men. The howl of agony echoed through the meadows and when my father pulled out the weapon, it no longer shone. Red blood coated its sides. One of the men pointed at me, and two others ran toward me. My father whipped around. Pure anguish was on his face as he saw I had disobeyed him, that I had not kept running and taken Will to safety—”
He had to stop, afraid to go further. It was mad, but he also wanted to keep talking. He had never poured it out to anyone before. Not even after it had happened. His rescuers had asked him as they tended to him, but he had kept his mouth clamped shut. Had feared the men who had saved him would think he was mad, if he said he had seen dragons. Then, when he realized they knew about the beasts and hunted them, he still would not speak. He had tried to bury it all. He had suddenly become an earl and was supposed to be strong. Anyway, he’d been too twisted up inside to say a word.
Lucy slid her arms around his waist, her cheek pressed to his chest. Her embrace must be meant to soothe him, but it brought guilt rushing up to war with the pain of his memories.
“I tried to run again, and I got close to the woods. My legs were wobbling and I tripped. Will flew off, and the men were almost upon us. I ran back to grab him, but they were so close ... I picked him up, but one of them lunged at us and he grabbed Will. I should have fought the blackguard ... should have done something ... but I ran for the woods. I managed to get in, crashing through it. It was dark in there—the trees were dense, the sky screened by a thick canopy of leaves. All the shadow made it a good place to hide.
“It also made it hard to see. I glimpsed a creature at the edge of the woods. It stood almost as high as the trees, and was a monstrous thing with enormous wings, a huge snapping mouth.” At once realization dawned and Sinjin shut his mouth. Shutting his eyes, he dropped his head forward on a groan. He was almost unable to lift his lids and look at her. He mumbled, “I’m sorry, love. It was the way it seemed to me at the time.”
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