My Lord Immortality (3 page)
Read My Lord Immortality Online
Authors: Alexandra Ivy
Not that she particularly cared if he were a foreigner or not, she acknowledged with a near-hysterical urge to laugh. At the moment she would have welcomed the devil himself if he were here to protect her.
The shadow seemed to swirl, then, with a sudden hiss, it slowly began to retreat toward the nearby stables.
“We will settle this later, fool. I must think how best to punish you for your insolence,” the shadow warned before it disappeared entirely.
For a breathless moment there was nothing but the thick silence; then, with a flowing swiftness that was oddly similar to that of the deadly shadow, the gentleman turned and threaded his way through the thick hedge. Amelia regarded him with a sense of lingering shock, not even flinching when he reached out to gently touch her hair.
“Are you harmed?” he demanded in soft tones.
Amelia struggled to breathe as she pressed a hand to her painfully racing heart. “No. I . . . what was that thing?”
He seemed to hesitate. “A creature. A creature of the dark.”
“Creature?” Amelia gave a sudden shudder. Did he mean an animal? No. She had seen what she had seen. That had been something other than human or animal. “What sort of creature?”
Without warning, he reached out to grasp her arm in a firm grip. “Come, we must not linger here.”
Before she even knew what was happening, Amelia discovered herself being tugged away from the hedge and turned back down the alley toward her home. Just for a moment, she allowed herself to follow his lead, wanting nothing more than to be back in the comforting familiarity of her tiny home. Then she abruptly dug her bare heels into the dirt.
“Wait. I must find my brother. I was following him when that shadow appeared.”
His grip tightened, almost as if he considered physically dragging her away from danger. Then he drew in a deep breath.
“Very well, but we must be swift,” he said. Without waiting for her approval, the man turned and began searching the high hedges for a sign of her missing brother. He had taken only half a dozen steps when he softly called out, “He is here.”
Attempting to still the shaking that still clutched at her body, Amelia moved to stand beside her unknown savior, her gaze searching the hedge until she discovered William happily seated on the filthy ground.
Her brief flare of relief was swiftly replaced by a bout of annoyance. As always, her brother was utterly indifferent to the world, and dangers, about him.
“William, what in heaven's name are you doing?” she demanded in sharp tones.
Glancing upward, her brother offered her that sweet, heart-melting smile that never failed to touch her.
“Cats,” he said, pointing at his lap.
Amelia prayed for patience as she noted the numerous kittens that had crawled into a tight ball upon his legs, along with his own stray. Well, she at least now knew where that demon-spawned cat of William's had been disappearing to at night. And precisely what he had been doing during his midnight excursions.
“Cats,” William repeated with a wide smile.
“Yes, I see.”
“Cats and cats.”
“Yes, there are many cats, William, but it is very late. You should be in your bed. A bed you should never have left, as you well know.”
William simply smiled, but at her side the shadowed gentleman stirred with growing impatience.
“We must be away from here,” he said in low tones. “There is still danger.”
She was not about to argue. Not when she fully agreed with his impeccable logic. She did not yet know enough of this shadow creature to be certain that it might not suddenly decide to reappear.
“Come along, William. It is time we return home.”
William heaved a sad sigh, but thankfully began to replace the kittens in the hedge before clutching his renegade black cat in his arms and rising to his feet.
“Cats.”
“Yes, yes. We shall visit them later.”
Taking her brother's hand, Amelia joined the impatient gentleman as he turned back down the alley. In silence the three moved down the cramped lane, their footsteps echoing eerily. For a time, Amelia was simply relieved to be moving away from the nightmare that had haunted the abandoned stables. But as they continued onward, she discovered her gaze covertly studying the large male form at her side.
“Will you tell me of that creature?” she demanded in tones soft enough not to attract her brother's wandering attention.
“Perhaps. But not tonight. For now we must concentrate on returning you safely home.”
She grimaced. She had expected no less. He appeared decidedly reluctant to reveal what he knew of the evil shadow.
“Then at least give me your name so I can properly thank you for rescuing me,” she persisted.
“No thanks are necessary. I but did my duty.”
Amelia frowned at the odd choice of words. “Duty? Surely it is not your duty to roam the darkness and rescue maidens in danger?”
Rather than answering her question, the man raised a sudden hand, bringing all three of them to a halt.
“Hold a moment.”
“What is it?” she demanded in sudden fear. Dear heavens, she was not prepared for another encounter with unnatural spirits.
“Someone approaches,” he answered, pointing toward the unmistakable glow of a lantern.
Peering through the darkness, Amelia breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh. It is the Watch.”
“We must not be seen,” the man at her side commanded in low tones.
She stiffened in surprise. “Why? We should tell them of the shadow.” She gave a shiver as she recalled the recent encounter. “And there was a body on the ground. . . . I think that creature murdered some poor soul.”
He moved closer, the rich scent of his warm skin a welcome exchange from the stench of the alley.
“Someone was murdered, indeed. Do you wish to be the one who claims that it was a mere shadow?”
“But we both saw it. . . .”
“It would not matter if the entire neighborhood witnessed the murder,” he insisted, his head deliberately turning toward the silent William, who stood behind them. “The Watch cannot arrest and hang a shadow. They will desire a more tangible suspect to haul before the magistrate.”
Amelia's breath caught at his horrid implication. “You cannot mean William? He has done nothing.”
“Are you so certain that the authorities will believe in his innocence?”
She itched to reach up and slap him for even daring to imply someone could possibly think so ill of William. He was sweet and kind and utterly incapable of harming another soul. But even as the fury raced through her, a sensible voice urged her to consider the danger.
It was true that William was completely without guile. And that he would never lift a hand toward another. But she could not entirely deny that there were always those willing to believe the worst of her brother.
Because of his simple nature and large size, it was easy to presume that he could pose a danger. Few would take the time to discover his soft heart beneath his odd demeanor.
She gnawed her lower lip as she watched the lantern come ever closer. “Perhaps you are right.”
“Follow me,” he urged, stepping out of the alley and into the garden of one of the town houses.
Regaining her brother's hand, Amelia hurriedly set out after the swiftly moving form. In martyred silence, she ignored the brambles and stones that cut into her feet, and even the realization that they were blatantly trespassing from one garden to another. But as he actually angled up a path to one of the darkened houses and pulled open the kitchen door, she came to an uncertain halt.
“What are you doing?” she demanded in breathless tones.
“Leading you into my house,” he retorted before he disappeared into the darkness within.
Feeling rather foolish, Amelia tugged her brother forward and stepped over the threshold. Once inside, however, she was forced to come to a halt as the darkness shrouded about her.
“A moment,” the disembodied voice of her rescuer whispered through the air, sending an odd chill down her spine.
Not fear, she rather inanely realized. Instead, a stirring fascination with this man who had appeared from the darkness to save her.
There was a faint rasp of a flint before soft candlelight bathed the room.
Amelia blinked as her eyes adjusted to the sudden light. A moment later her breath tangled in her throat as she regarded the stranger.
Good heavens. He was . . . beautiful.
Fiercely, hauntingly beautiful, from his long, lustrous bronze hair that flowed past his broad shoulders to the powerful thrust of his legs. Even his unadorned black coat and breeches only served to reveal the fluid elegance of his body. Bemused, her gaze slowly lifted, tracing the crisply tied cravat to at last reach the lean countenance.
In the candlelight his features were shadowed, but there was no mistaking the startling perfection of his smooth, alabaster skin and finely sculpted features. Almost absently, she noticed that his nose was long and slender, his lips surprisingly full, and his brows the same shade as the bronze hair.
But in the end, it was his eyes that captured and held her attention.
Never had she seen eyes that were such a pure, molten silver. Eyes that glowed with a fierce intelligence. Eyes that seemed to hold her with a force she could feel to her very soul.
She should say something, a dry voice whispered in the back of her mind. Something that would bring an end to the thick, prickling silence that sent a rash of excitement over her skin.
“Oh,” was all she could manage.
Thankfully unaware of her predicament, the gentleman lifted an elegant hand to wave it toward the nearby stairs.
“If you take these stairs, they will lead you to the front of the house. You may leave through the main door. Take care not to be seen.”
Leave? Alone?
Amelia struggled to clear her foggy wits. “But, what of you?”
The pale countenance was grim as he glanced toward the open door. “I will ensure that the danger does not attempt to follow you. And also distract the Watch if need be.”
“But . . .”
He stepped forward, those silver eyes glowing with a determined light. “See to your brother. No one must suspect that he was out of his home on this night. That is all that need concern you for now.”
Her mouth opened to argue. She was unaccustomed to taking orders from anyone. Even those gentlemen who had saved her life. But before she could utter even a word, he was moving with that uncanny swiftness to press the candle into her hand and had disappeared through the open door.
She drew in a shaky breath.
Well. So far, it had been quite an evening.
She had lost her brother. Been confronted by a monstrous shadow that had ruthlessly murdered some poor soul. Been saved by a stranger. Run from the Watch. And now was abandoned in a strange house.
Oh, yes. Quite an evening.
Chapter 2
Early the next morning, Sebastian St. Ives sat alone in his library. A heavy, leather-bound book lay open upon his lap, but his attention refused to remain focused upon the ancient teachings of Plato. Instead, his pale, slender fingers tapped upon the leather chair and his narrowed gaze was trained upon the empty grate.
In the distance he could detect the faint scent of Drake. It was a scent that at the moment he barely noted. The vampire would not soon be leaving his lair. After slaying and feasting upon the blood of humans he was now cursed with the sun bane. It would not be until darkness once again claimed London that he would return to the streets.
There was another scent, however, that was far more distracting.
The scent of Miss Hadwell.
A scent that was growing ever closer.
Sebastian frowned. It was odd how easily he was able to sense the maiden. He had made a deliberate decision when he left the Veil to remain in the shadows. He was settled in a position to keep a careful eye upon the treacherous vampireâand ensure that he could halt any attempt to lure the maiden into handing over the Medallion. He was certain that in time Drake would weary of his futile games and return to the Veil.
A reasonable plan and one that had worked quite well until last evening.
His frown deepened. Last evening had changed everything.
The sight of Miss Hadwell standing in the dark as Drake crept ever closer made him realize how swiftly the vampire could strike. Had he not been on the trail of Drake, he might never have arrived before the maiden had been lured into handing over the amulet.
Even worse, upon meeting Miss Hadwell, he was forced to realize that she was not the timid, reclusive soul that he had hoped. This was no maiden who would run screaming in terror at the first hint of danger. Instead, she was bold and reckless, with a fierce determination to protect her brother. Traits that Drake would no doubt use to his full advantage.
Once again that sense of Miss Hadwell tingled through his body. She was closer. Close enough that the vision of her slender form and vivid black eyes rose easily to mind.
Too easily.
Sebastian shook his head impatiently. He was a vampire who had been pleased to turn his back on earthly passions once he'd entered the Veil. An aesthetic life devoted to acquiring knowledge and appreciating the beauty of the ancient vampire culture suited him to perfection. What could be more fulfilling than tending to one's soul?
But for all his vaulted notions, he could not deny a stark, utterly unexpected reaction to the warm, vibrant beauty of Miss Hadwell.
The passions and desires that had been all but forgotten over the centuries had tingled to sudden life. He had been unnervingly aware of the scent of her skin and the satin softness of her ripe lips. And perhaps, above all, the delicate form that had brushed against him with an innocent provocation.
Such sensations were as unwelcome as they were unexpected. Especially with the realization that he could no longer remain in the shadows as Drake stalked the young maiden. He would have to somehow ensure that he was allowed to remain close to her side.
Ruefully wishing that he were back in the Veil with nothing to occupy his thoughts but the companionship of his brethren, Sebastian slowly rose to his feet. He had put off the inevitable long enough. Miss Hadwell was close by and alone. Even if Drake was trapped in his lair, it was his duty to be at her side. There were dark companions of the vampire that could still offer danger.
As silent as smoke, Sebastian moved through his quiet home and down to the kitchen door. Once in the bright summer sunlight, he paused to allow his eyes to adjust and then used the scent of Miss Hadwell to guide his feet across the garden and down the narrow alley.
He found her by the derelict stables, her gaze carefully trained upon the ground as if searching for a lost object.
Just for a moment, his gaze lingered upon her delicate form, shown to advantage in a blue muslin gown, and the shimmering raven curls piled atop her head. She appeared so tiny, so utterly vulnerable, that his heart gave an odd lurch.
Almost as if sensing his presence, Miss Hadwell slowly turned. The dark eyes widened as he stepped forward.
“Oh.” Her hand lifted to press to her heart. “You startled me.”
Sebastian offered a faint bow. “Forgive me, that was not my intent.” He glanced about the decrepit stables and small yard littered with rubbish. “Have you lost your brother once again?”
The tension faded from her face as her charming dimples suddenly flashed. Sebastian felt an odd warmth flow through his blood, as if the sun had abruptly emerged from behind heavy clouds.
“No, William is safely at home enjoying his breakfast.”
“Ah, that is a relief.” Ruthlessly shaking off the strange desire to sweep the petite maiden into his arms and carry her off to the protection of his home, Sebastian took a step forward. He had to somehow convince this overly bold woman that she could not be so recklessly indifferent to her own safety. “The streets of London can be a perilous place. Most especially when the night cloaks them in shadow.”
“So I have discovered.” Her smile faded and for the first time Sebastian noted the weary smudges beneath the dark eyes. “Unfortunately, William has no understanding of danger. He believes that all possess his own gentle heart.”
A flare of impatience raced through him. “A grievous error and one that might lead to your own harm.”
His tone was sharper than he had intended, and her expression swiftly settled into lines of defensive stubbornness.
“I have spoken with him. There is little else I can do.”
Realizing his mistake, Sebastian forced back the words trembling upon his lips. For the moment it was important that he not alienate this woman. He would have to consider what was to be done with her troublesome brother at a later time.
“If it is not your brother that you seek, then what brings you to such a melancholy place?”
Her gaze slowly turned toward the shadows of the stables, her arms wrapping about her waist in an unconscious motion.
“I could not sleep,” she said slowly. “I wished . . .”
“What?”
There was a moment's pause before she grimaced. “I wished to assure myself that I had been mistaken.”
“Mistaken in what?” he asked softly.
A visible shudder raced through her. “There is no such thing as a shadow that speaks and murders innocents. It must have been fear that made me believe in such an absurd fancy. It could not have been real.”
Sebastian frowned at her troubled tones. Surely any other maiden who had received such a fright would wisely lock herself in her home and not return to the very spot where the demon had lurked? Reckless, indeed.
“And so you came in search of this killer?”
“Of course not.” She regarded him with a hint of surprise. “I merely desired proof that it was a human monster and not a figment of my nightmares.”
“Ah. Have you satisfied your fears?”
She grimaced again. “Not really. There is nothing to verify what I witnessed last evening.” There was a pause as she studied his deliberately unreadable expression. “Unless you possess an explanation?”
He did, of course. He possessed all the answers she clearly desired. But he feared that she was not yet prepared for the truth. Should he tell her of Drake and the Medallion, she might very well think him mad, or worse.
Besides which, the knowledge that a desperate vampire was stalking her was hardly a reassuring revelation, he acknowledged ruefully. For now it seemed preferable to worry over nightmares.
He gave a lift of his shoulder. “As I said last evening, it is a creature of the night.”
Her lips thinned at his cautious words. “That is no answer.”
Sebastian stepped closer. Close enough to smell the heady scent of her warm skin.
“And will giving it a name make it any less dangerous?” he asked in low tones. “Will your fear be abandoned and your heart lightened? Man or beast, it is a thing to be avoided.”
Not surprisingly, she appeared far from satisfied by his vague response. “I think you know more than you are willing to admit.”
“Perhaps.”
She studied him in exasperation before at last heaving a sigh. It was obvious that she sensed his adamant refusal to reveal anything more.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
His lips twitched at her unmistakable annoyance. She was not a maiden often thwarted. It did not suit her to be anything but in command of every situation.
“Such a fascination with names,” he murmured.
Her nose tilted upward at his teasing, but he did not miss the sudden glint of humor in the dark eyes.
“It is only proper manners to offer an introduction. We have now spoken on two separate occasions.”
“Ah well, naturally I must bow to the pressures of proper manners.” Before she could guess his intention, he had reached out to grasp her hand and lifted her bare fingers to his lips. Her skin was soft as satin beneath his touch, and Sebastian found his mouth lingering as he breathed deeply of her feminine fragrance. Strange that he had forgotten the sheer pleasure of touching a young woman, he thought inanely. Or perhaps it was simply this young woman who awoke his long-buried passions. His blood stirred even as he forced himself to loosen his grip and take a step back. There was danger in such sensations. “I am Mr. Sebastian St. Ives. And you are?”
“Miss Hadwell,” she retorted absently, her gaze straying to her fingers before lifting her gaze with a faint blush.
He refused to consider her flustered reaction to his touch. He was a scholar, he staunchly reminded himself. And for the moment, a reluctant guardian of this maiden.
“A pleasure, Miss Hadwell.”
“You . . .” She paused to suck in a deep breath. “You are not from London?”
“No. Indeed, I have only recently arrived.” He paused to glance about the rubbish that was happily rotting beneath the morning sunlight. “I am still attempting to settle among the noise and fragrant aromas of the city.”
She wrinkled her nose in ready empathy. “You have not had a very pleasant welcome. I can assure you that the days are not as a rule so wretchedly hot, nor the nights so filled with such violence.”
“And the noise and aromas?”
“Those, I fear, are our constant companions,” she confessed, those dimples once again making an appearance.
“A pity.” Arrested by the sparkle in the glorious eyes, Sebastian slowly smiled. “Still, I suppose London does have its share of beauty. Beauty that is all the more rare and astonishing because it is unexpected.”
She blinked, almost as surprised as Sebastian himself at the soft words.
“Yes . . . well, I suppose there is nothing to be found here. I should return to William.”
Sebastian was swift to hold out his arm. He did not want this woman to be wandering through London on her own. Not with Drake and his minions only a few houses away.
“Allow me to escort you.”
She lifted her brows, as if caught off guard by his offer. “That is not necessary. I live but a short distance away.”
“Not necessary, but perhaps wise.” He deliberately glanced toward the ground where the traces of blood still remained. Not even this maiden could so easily have forgotten a woman had been murdered in this spot only a few hours ago. “A young maiden upon her own in such an isolated area can be prey to all sorts of undesirable attention.”
With a tiny shiver she readily placed her fingers upon his arm. It appeared that her stubbornness was at least tempered with a measure of common sense.
“Very well.”
Relieved that he was not to be forced into a ridiculous argument, Sebastian steered her away from the stables and down the narrow lane. He even managed to pull her close enough to feel her sweet warmth seep into his being.
For a time they walked in a companionable silence, and then Sebastian glanced down to study the delicate lines of her profile.
“Do you care for your brother on your own?”
She abruptly lifted her head to meet his searching gaze. “Oh, no. I have Mrs. Benson, my housekeeper. She is very dedicated to William.”
“What of your parents?” he demanded, not at all pleased with the thought of this maiden being so heavily burdened at such a young age. It was surely unnatural, even among humans.
“They . . .” Her gaze dropped abruptly. “They struggle with their sense of regret over William. It has been very difficult for them to accept the fact that he would never be as other young gentlemen.”
Sebastian held no sympathy for the unknown Hadwells. Vampires respected and admired one another precisely for their differences. It was well known that it was the variety of thoughts and opinions that made for the highest form of society, and that all possessed their share of strengths and weaknesses. All except for the three traitors who had proved unworthy of respect.
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