[excerpt] (13 page)

Yes, her hat size was definitely getting bigger as the night continued.

The woman who had previously run out of the room crying, returned and waddled over to Serina with her eyes blazing, and blatantly asked how she won Lucian’s affections the second Lucian left Serina’s side.

Taken aback, Serina asked, “Good evening Miss…?”

“My name, you tidbit of a harlot, is Contessa Van Holstein. My friends call me Tess. You will not.” The crass woman all but spit the words in Serina’s face.

Serina stepped back, examined her carefully. The woman’s dress left nothing to the imagination, which Serina deemed was not in the woman’s best interest. The white satin, skin-tight dress left barely any breathing room. Rolls of flesh rippled and puckered the material. The woman’s complexion had a multitude of skin-colored papules bursting from beneath her skin. They reminded Serina of barnacles growing on the docks at the seaside. Lumps, some the size of grapes protruded from under her hair. Serina could feel her face twisting into an ugly scowl. She coughed lightly, patting her chest.

“You do not belong here with us. And how is that you are here with our Lord St. James? Where is the Lady St. James? I wouldn’t go picking out your china patterns so quickly if I were you!” She snorted, her nose high in the air with indignation.

Serina’s eyes went wide.
By the Goddess! She could have at least blown the thing before she came out. Nose dandruff, ewh! The lovely views one gets from being so petite.

Miss Contessa was not taking Lucian’s engagement well. Serina found the woman full of guile. Dear old Tess wanted Lucian all to herself, and Serina just threw a giant anvil into her dowry. Pity!

Serina crooked a finger to the other woman and when Tess was close, she discretely whispered, “I’m not one to kiss and tell. Oh!” Serina covered her mouth with one hand and feigned laughter. “Allow me to rephrase this. I did kiss him. More than once mind you! Whew! By the Gods, you have no idea what you’re missing. His tongue—” Serina paused. “—it’s easily six or seven inches long. Other body parts, if you get my drift, are twice the size, wink, wink.” Serina nudged her with her shoulder.

And just when Serina thought the woman’s disposition couldn’t get any uglier, she hated it, but she had to admit she was wrong. Flaming red face, eyes narrowed, and spittle leaking from her lips, Serina tapped the woman’s jaw shut and left her to return to
her
fiancé. Serina’s new favorite word.

“Besides being ignorant, the woman is cursed with elephantiasis.”

“Oh, she’s cursed all right. What’s that?”

“You must have heard of Joseph Merrick, the gent they called the Elephant man? Passed away six years ago. An associate of mine at London Hospital took care of him. Dr. Fred Treves. I never met Joseph. Bit too young. But he left an impression in my head and heart forever. Your Miss Van Holstein’s got it all right. And then some. What a shame to go through life with such a debilitating malady. ’Tis no wonder she has such a dreadful disposition.”

“Serina, she’s not mine. She’s a miserable wench that followed me around all spring like a bad case of chats. Enough of her. Dance with me. It gives me the free excuse to hold you closely.” Lucian held his hand out to Serina and sent her into a spin that landed her body pinned against him when he finished.

Serina smiled. The man knew how to dance. Thankfully, at least one of them did!

Serina ranked this the most enchanting evening in her life. He’d courted her, he’d asked her to marry him and they came
s-o-o-o
close to consummating their relationship, but there was more. Lucian attentively catered to her every need. He treated her as if she were the only person in the room with him even though there were over one hundred people there. One hundred people all watching them closely, like ants behind the glass walls, waiting to flatten them at any second with the heel of a shoe. All right, truth be known, the only person that really looked like she’d enjoy flattening her was Tess.

After dinner, Serina had her first glass of champagne. She enjoyed the way the bubbles popped in her mouth. After her second glass, she ended up with a slipped smile on her face. “Lucian, would you show me to the powder room? I believe the bubbles are attacking me from the inside out. They tickle.”

His grin hogged his face. “I want to be the only one who tickles you from the inside out.”

“Now?” Looking beyond Lucian, she scrunched her eyebrows together as she focused on someone on the opposite side of the room. “Who is that man in the corner by the little statue of David? Lucian, and I do mean little. Poor man. How would you like to be immortalized by the world etched in stone that tiny?” Serina spread her fingers about an inch apart as she eyed the statue then she glanced towards Lucian’s groin and smirked. “Not that you would, mind you. A bigger stone would be needed. Much bigger.” She attempted to adjust her fingers to an appropriate length.

“Serina!” Lucian whispered. “Up here, luv.”

Serina blushed and peeked out from a guilty set of smoldering eyes.

Lucian said nothing, but shook his head, enjoying her antics.

Almost as quickly as that thought came, it vanished. “I love saying your name Lucian...
Looshaan
.
If we were to have a child, a little girl, we could name her Lucy.” Serina let the name roll off her tongue slowly in the same fashion she’d just done to his name.

Lucian bent his head down to meet hers. With his nose pressed against hers he said, “No...”

Serina pouted. “No children?”

“Children, yes, all girls as beautiful as you, but no Lucys. M’lady, I must agree with you that bubbles have attacked you. Come with me, my wild rose. Do you want me to escort you inside or wait out here for you to return to my arms?”

“I’ll be fine, but Lucian—really, who is that man? He’s been watching you all evening, and with not the friendliest of faces. He’s not right. He and Tess would get on together fine.”

“I do not know him. I’ll ask around while you fix up something, although I can see nothing out of place on you. You’re stunning.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear!” Serina tapped her finger on the tip of his nose and disappeared.

Having the powder room to herself, she stared into the looking glass with a silly grin plastered on her face lost within her thoughts until she heard two men talking. Lucian’s name mentioned more than once piqued her curiosity. She glanced upwards noting a small vent between the two rooms. Without realizing what she’d done, she climbed up on the counter to get closer to the opening, which she found tricky in an evening gown and heeled shoes. If anyone walked in now she realized she would have some explaining to do.

With one ear pressed tight to the vent, her gut twisted hearing the men’s voices. An urgent sense to protect Lucian, to run fast and hide him away forever from everyone swarmed her senses. She’d heard one say, “I can’t believe it, Master. He should be covered in dirt today, yet here he is looking healthier than you and with a fiancé who no one’s ever had the pleasure of having. I wonder where Raven is. He’s never left her. Never! Maybe she didn’t survive. But don’t you worry, I’ll finish this. You can count on me.”

Then Serina heard another voice, more like a low guttural growl that shot up the hairs on the back of her neck and pricked sharper than the thorns from her roses.

“Raven had better survived, or I’ll lie back and personally watch my wolves shred you limb by limb. Am I perfectly clear?”

“Yes sir, very clear.”

A loud cracking noise followed whimpers. Having heard enough, she hopped down from the countertop and ran from the powder room directly into Lucian’s arms. Unable to control her trembling, she whispered, “We must leave immediately.”

“What is it, what’s happened?” Lucian drew her to him hoping to quell her obvious fear.

Serina squeezed her arms around his waist, as she walked him backwards toward the exit. She explained, “I overheard two men in the powder room talking about you and Raven. They said that you should be dead, but since you’re not, they’ll finish you. Lucian, we need to get out of here, get Raven and go somewhere safe. Egypt should be safe, plenty of sun! Those things don’t appreciate sun, right? Why do they want you dead? Why?” She felt anger build within her...not a good thing from where she stood. Her control and her powers didn’t quite mesh when she felt threatened.

Serina’s first malignant thought passed through her head. From the day she took an oath to care for people proclaiming no malfeasance, she wondered now if she’d be able to live up to it. She could walk into that room and make the hearts that belonged to the voices cease to beat. She could will it so. The men would be dead. Lucian and Raven would be safe. Serina turned to walk back to the powder room when Lucian caught her wrist and pulled her back to him.

“You cannot do this, Serina. You are not like the animal that tried to kill Raven or myself. You could not live with yourself.”

“I won’t live without you, Lucian.” Serina turned in his arms, never taking her tear-filled eyes off him.

“You won’t live without me. Ever if I died, I would make my way back to your arms. Death cannot separate us, m’lady. Only time and circumstance.”

“You’re not God, Lucian. You don’t get the luxury to pick how and when.”

“God has naught to do with this, Serina. God does not have vampires for his disciples, rest assured. So yes, for now I shall pick my time and how and it won’t be at the hands of some bloody beast.” He rested his chin atop her head, catching his wits. He needed time to absorb their situation, but it seemed a luxury he was no longer afforded.

“Did you see two men go into the restroom?”

“Only one.”

“Well, one is better than none. Did anyone know him?”

“He is assumed a streetwalker in search of scraps. Speaking of scraps, let’s stop by the kitchen on the way out, and we can kill two birds with one stone. We can ask the chef if he knew who he gave food to, and we can pick up dessert for our misfits at home.”

Hands on her hips, Serina asked, “Even in the midst of a life and death crisis you think of food. Men! Are all men as obdurate as you, or am I the only woman lucky enough to have a man think such things?”

“A man’s gotta eat, luv, and then there’s dessert.” Lucian marched his fingers down her back to her bottom, patting her. “And then there’s dessert.” Lucian’s smile spoke of hours of nothing but the two of them together; romantic images and thoughts conjured within his head fast and furious, regardless of his situation.

“Lucian!” Serina shoved at his chest, though for all her effort he stood unmoved. “Please, be serious for one moment.” She threw her hands into the air. “Would you stop? Get that image of me out of your thick head for the time being.”

He offered an innocent smile.

“I just overheard two men devising a plan to kill you and all you can think of is food and me. I believe the champagne did
you
in. For the love of God, what if they actually succeed? You came into my life like a tornado and blew my world wide open. I don’t want you sucked away leaving only death’s destruction behind. I won’t lose you, do you understand?” Serina crossed her arms under her chest, which by default, she realized accentuated her breasts even more but there wasn’t much she could do about it. They were what they were, buxom. She looked as stern as she possibly could, until she noticed his focus remained on the rise and fall of her chest. “I’m up here you daft sod.” She kicked at his ankle. She wasn’t budging until he started to take her seriously, and he had no idea of just how stubborn she could get. Serina leaned against one of the kitchen tables, fuming.

Lucian approached, batting his big baby blues willing her to smile.

Nothing.

“I know you’re frightened, but I can’t go to the constable telling him of the past few days’ events. It would place you and Raven in danger, not to mention myself. I can’t tell him we were all but killed, and you saved us. Serina, they’d have the Sorcerers Squad knocking down your door before we returned home. Do you want that? Want those murderous scoundrels hanging you out to dry? I most assuredly don’t.”

“I can take care of myself. You’re already in danger, Lucian. So is Raven. She’s two sets of marks on her neck to prove how much danger she’s in. Three sets and we’re all up to our necks in trouble. No pun intended. You need protection. I can save you as long as you’ve got a pulse, luv, but I cannot do the reanimation thing. I’m not Dr. Frankenstein.”

She roughed up her hair frustrated. Then her pacing kicked in, getting her in the way of the head chef. She grabbed his coat in passing and read the embroidered name on his lapel aloud. “Nice name—ah, Payton.” She slapped his chest, and gave him a slight shove out of her way continuing with her rant.

Payton gave Lucian a weary glance, one blond eyebrow arched. He watched patient, backing into corners when Serina neared. He had every right to kick them out of his kitchen, but then he may have been just a bit intimidated by this insane little woman who’d taken over
his
kitchen. He realized she meant business. Glancing at the King’s nephew, he looked amused and there in lay the problem.

“Lord St. James, begging me pardon for eavesdropping, although I don’t much have a choice, but, Sir, your lady...she makes sense. The man’s ne’er been here before this night. I’d liked to have been able to help you, but you clearly need to visit the constable, Sir.” Payton looked down at the floor, scared to face the man. He’d all but insulted royalty. Tomorrow, he knew he’d be looking for a new position as a pot scrubber somewhere if he still had a head atop his shoulders when he woke up...If he woke up!