The Vampire Dimitri (31 page)

She felt the warmth draining from her body from the wound on her shoulder as he moved to the side of her neck, then the slice of pain as he drove his fangs in once more. They weren't going to get to her in time. He was going to drain her. Kill her.

Maia closed her eyes, trying to focus, trying to push away the horror blinding her. In the background of her fear, she heard the drumming of rain on the roof and the vibration of the vehicle as it rolled along. She must remove herself from this moment of terror and think.
Think.
Was there something she could do to stop him? He hadn't begun to tear her clothes away, but she felt the hard bulge that indicated his arousal, and she suspected with a deep, terrible fear, that he soon would move on to other violations.

But the heat and life flowed from her, along with her consciousness, and she found herself floating somewhere in a plane of fear and pain, hands rough on her, the incessant rumbling of the carriage beneath her.

And then it stopped.

He pulled away and sat back, looking at her. A drop of blood colored the corner of his mouth and his eyes, glazed with desire, burned down at her. “Alas,” he said, “we've arrived.”

Maia tried to pull herself up, but the interior spun and she fell back weakly onto the seat. Blood trickled down her shoulder and neck, over her upper chest and seeped into the neckline of her dress.

She heard a click and the carriage door opened. The rush of cool, damp air did a bit to revive her, but when she saw Mrs. Throckmullins standing there, Maia felt a rush of fear.

“Hello there again, my dear Miss Woodmore,” she said, rain drumming frantically on her umbrella. “I see that you've taken a bit of a sample of our friend here, darling Alexander. But what a mess you've made of it. Fool.” Her voice hardened. “She cannot bleed to death.”

With a sharp movement, Lerina flung the umbrella to someone behind her, and Maia caught a glimpse of a brick wall looming beyond in the low light. Then all other thoughts fled as the woman surged into the small space and pulled the door closed behind her.

“Now let's see to this,” she said, settling on the seat across from her and Alexander. “Hold her,” she said as Maia began to struggle, trying to slip up and out of the small vehicle.

Alexander grabbed her shoulders and then her wrists, holding Maia still as Lerina moved closer. “She smells delightful,” the other woman said, sniffing delicately. “I thought as much the first time we met.” She traced a finger down into the
blood still oozing freely from the bites on her neck, then brought it to her lips. With a vigorous swipe, she tasted the red drop and smiled.

“Now, now, you needn't fear, Miss Woodmore,” she told her, seeing Maia's eyes grow wide. She grasped her chin, holding it with strong, sharp fingers. “It won't hurt a bit, and then I'll see to stopping the bleeding. We don't want you to die until Dimitri gets here. Just close your eyes now and enjoy.”

Maia would have screamed, but the woman slapped a flat hand over her mouth. “I don't need your cries ringing in my ears,” she said angrily. “It ruins the experience.”

Maia couldn't move, for Alexander's weight and hands kept her body in place and her arms pinned between them while Lerina held her head immobile. The woman bared her fangs, a dark glint in her eyes, and drove her sharp teeth into the top of Maia's shoulder.

Maia's vision fluttered dark and light, her stomach pitched and rolled as she gagged behind the fingers clamped over her mouth. The rhythmic tug and suction from the woman's lips echoed through her body, dragging up from deep inside. A little flutter of unwanted pleasure uncurled in the pit of her belly, just a quiet tingle within the dark world of fear and pain and Maia felt tears rolling from her eyes again.

After a long moment, it was over. Lerina pulled away, her lips full, her eyes bright red. She made a soft humming sound of pleasure, bloodscent filtering from her heavy breaths. Maia kept her eyes closed, focusing on the fact that they weren't going to kill her. At least until Corvindale arrived.

A trap for him.
Of course it was a trap, but he was smart.

And strong and powerful. Too smart to be tricked, especially again. And he had Mr. Cale and Chas and even Dew
hurst and Iliana to help him. Surely he wouldn't be hurt. Surely—

Lerina leaned forward again, and Maia tensed, feeling the tightening grip of Alexander's hands on her shoulders. She twisted, but she was powerless, and this time, instead of biting her, Lerina swiped her tongue out. Worse than having the fangs penetrating her flesh was the feel of the woman licking her shoulder, licking and gently sucking away the last bit of blood from the fresh wounds.

Maia trembled low and deep as they held her down, both of them now lapping at the marks on her neck and shoulders, one on each side. Her skin crawled beneath the sleek whorls of tongue and lips and she tried to faint, tried to fall into some black unconsciousness so she didn't have to feel the sensations on her sensitive skin.

She didn't have long to wait. Mercifully, weakness overcame her, and darkness flooded her vision. Maia slipped into it gladly.

 

Dimitri stared down at the note. His body had gone cold and then numb, then his mind shattered into terrified pieces. Now it was working its way into blazing fury.

He couldn't allow terror into his mind, so he focused on the fury.

I have something you desire.

That was all the missive said, but he needed no other information. Lerina's scent, along with that of Maia's
blood
permeated the paper.

Dimitri stopped his thoughts as soon as he smelled it.
No.
Going down that avenue would turn him mad. Focus on the facts, on what he knew.

Maia had left early that afternoon, many hours ago, to call on Bradington. She'd taken a hack instead of one of
his carriages, a fact which he didn't learn until supper when Angelica pounded on his study door to inform him that her sister hadn't returned.

Even then, he hadn't allowed himself to be too concerned, instead, torturing himself with the image of two lovers reuniting and forgetting the passage of time. But now…

He forced his mind to remain calm and empty. To go through a list of steps with logic and objectivity. Obviously Lerina wanted him to come. Obviously she had something planned.

Obviously Maia wouldn't be killed, at least until he got there. He hoped. Lerina wasn't Cezar Moldavi.

He'd need assistance, someone to have his back. He wasn't that foolish. Giordan. Chas was still in Scotland, blast. Iliana. Even Voss. Eddersley. Gehrington. Perhaps Eustacia, the woman who sometimes practiced fighting with Iliana, if she was back from Rome.

Not that he would wait for any of them to arrive. But at least they'd be coming behind him.

Thus Dimitri kept his thoughts cold and steady as he barked orders to Crewston to send messages to Rubey's, to the back rooms at White's and to Dewhurst. He called for Tren and Iliana, giving Hunburgh direction on how to secure the house and whom to contact in the event the worst happened.

He wouldn't think on that.

Where would they be? She'd given no direction, no indication…they had to be at the same place they'd escaped before. Or, at least, he had to start there and track them if necessary. He wished he had his dogs, but he never brought them to Town.

These thoughts, these cold, steely thoughts, kept him
calm as he removed his waistcoat and changed into clothing meant more for a tradesman than an earl. Loose trousers with pockets and a shirt, sturdy shoes. And a coat with more pockets, where he put stakes. He picked up his sabre that masqueraded as a walking stick and walked out of the house as prepared as he could be.

He disdained the carriage that was waiting, for a saddled horse was much faster, and Tren, quick as he was, had prepared both. The carriage would follow once the others arrived.

If they did.

Dimitri galloped through the streets, grateful for the full moon that lit the world nearly as brightly as the sun. It was well into the night, and dawn would be only hours away.

When he got near the abandoned, shrouded house near the fishermen's wharf where he and Maia had been imprisoned, Dimitri slid from the horse before he even stopped. He landed on the ground and gathered up the reins, looking for somewhere to tie the beast, or some urchin to pay to watch him. The house was several blocks away, and he wanted to approach it as secretly as possible.

Despite the fact that it was long past midnight, the docks were by no means deserted. Fishermen and sailors walked, talked, fought, loaded and unloaded. The air was filled with noises of altercation and jollity. The smells of fish and sea-water mingled with something burning nearby and the ever-present odor of garbage.

Still calm, icily so, he looked around. And then he saw them.

Lerina stood in the center, in the narrow street. She was flanked by two men—likely vampire makes—and she watched Dimitri as he approached. Her eyes glowed faintly
and she stood regally, as if she were a queen and he a subject approaching for obeisance.

“Where is she?” Dimitri demanded, his control slipping when he scented Maia on Lerina…and on the man standing next to her. Bradington. Whose eyes glowed mockingly.

Alarm rising inside him, Dimitri fought it back. So that was how Lerina had managed to get to Maia. He allowed his eyes to glow just a bit, to show the very tip of a fang. They were no match for him in strength or speed, and Lerina must know it. Even she, without the use of rubies, was no threat to him. And he sensed no rubies on her or her companions.

That fact filled him with unease.

“I wasn't certain you would still want her. Now that we've finished with the little chit,” she replied. “Although I can see now why you've enjoyed her. She's a tasty piece.” A lift in the breeze brought a stronger waft of fish accompanied by the smell of flame and burning wood.

“Where is she?”

“I wasn't certain about your feelings for her the first time,” Lerina was saying conversationally. “After all, you were under duress. But you did feed from her—your control and abstinence are legendary, you know, and it was a shock to find that something had caused you to give it up. And then there was the way you looked at her…well, I had my suspicions. So of course I had to see for myself. It was rather amusing the way she came to your assistance, that night at—”

Dimitri moved sharply and had Lerina in his hands, a stake poised over her generous bosom before she could finish. “Where is Maia?”

Her eyes widened in blatant admiration and she arched a bit toward him, her hips bumping his. “Luce's cock, you can still set my heart fluttering, Dimitri. All that power and rage
rumbling beneath.” She shrugged in his arms, her breasts pressing beneath them as she tipped her head back as if to give him a better target. “Go ahead, do what you will. But if you kill me, you won't know where to find Miss Woodmore. And time is running thin.”

Frustrated, fighting rising alarm, he released her, trying to keep his thoughts from scattering into wildness. “Tell me where she is.” He glanced at Bradington, who'd taken a step back and looked a bit less confident than he had a moment ago.

“Ah, feel free, Dimitri. I'd love to watch you, and he was merely a tool to get to…here. Right here, right where I wanted you.”

“And so I'm here.” He glanced behind her when another blast of smoke reached his nostrils and noticed a low glow in the distance. All at once, his senses went dead. The house, the very house in which they'd been imprisoned, was in flames.

“Yes, Dimitri. She's in there,” Lerina said.

But he was already pushing past her, flying toward the house. His heart in his throat, he tore through the night, knowing there had to be some sort of trick…some sort of surprise waiting for him.

She could be dead. She could be
made.
She might not even be in there, it might be some sort of ruse… Even Cezar could be waiting inside.

Tongues of flame snarled through the windows, smoke poured from the roof. The house was wholly ablaze. If she was inside, how could she be alive?

For a moment, Dimitri was propelled back in time to the Great Fire, and he slowed for a moment. A mere moment, and then he went on, as strong and fast as before.

For this was different. This was Maia, this was
now,
and he
was a Dracule. Fire didn't harm him; it merely lashed around in a reminder of what hell would be like. Hot, searing, but without actually eating into him. If he could find Maia, he would be fast enough to pull her out, to cover her and streak safely through the flames with her.

If he could find her. If she was still alive.

His mind was three steps ahead of his feet, and he tore off his shirt, plunging it into a rain barrel. Wet and damp, it would help to protect Maia if—
when
—he found her and brought her out.

This time, as he approached the building, he didn't have to find an opening that wasn't burning. He crashed through a flaming door and found himself in a dark, hot place, filled with smoke that blinded him though he could normally see through the dark.

“Maia!” he bellowed, inhaling a lungful of the hot smoke and ash as he tore through the lower level, looking for a place that wasn't aflame. He tried to smell her, to find her scent amid the soot and burning wood, and he caught it at last as he came to the stairs.

She was here. She was here.

Or she
had
been here.

“Maia!” he shouted again, ducking as a flaming beam tumbled from the ceiling. The entire place was in shambles, the sheets that had covered furnishings gone up in flames.

Fire snarled through spots in the walls, and the roar like a powerful windstorm filled his ears.

He called her name over and over as he dashed up crumbling stairs, down the hall to where they'd been imprisoned—he could tell by scent more than sight—and back.