A Vampire's Claim (55 page)

“And why wouldn’t I take your life?”

“Because you want to punish me for being what I am. That’s too tempting for you to pass up.” Retreating enough to manage a mocking bow, she raised a brow. “So, blades until one yields or the other is dead? As I’ve said before, Huntington’s rules are a little too modern and civilized for two such old souls as ourselves, I think.”

Charles studied her a long moment, then inclined his head. “Done, Lady D. I will look forward to driving your mockery from your eyes, replacing it with fear.”

“You will never have that satisfaction, no matter the outcome of our duel.”

“That’s the important difference in our ages, my dear,” he said. “I know all things come with time.” She noticed his dangerous cordiality had returned, as if the anger he’d displayed had never existed, as if he’d produced it simply to see how she would react.

The four stockmen who’d been standing off to the side were moving closer, and as they approached, Danny realized she was wrong. They weren’t stockmen. Not human ones. Four adult male vampires, likely Ruskin’s spawn.

“My sons, so to speak,” he confirmed it. “The best wealth a man can have in this country, to help him work his land, manage his interests. It’s almost dawn now. You shall have your duel at dusk tomorrow, after you’ve had a good day’s rest and a chance to feed. I am nothing if not fair.”

Fairness was becoming an elusive hope, she knew, and quelled the frisson of uneasiness again. He had to be stopped. This was just more proof of it. A vampire had to have Council permission to make a vampire, and she doubted he had that for any of these. He thought himself outside of all rules.

“I would prefer to be done with it now,” she said. “I expect it to go quickly.”

“So do I, more’s the pity, but I do not prefer it now.” When he shifted his glance to the silent, still group of vampires, four pairs of eyes fixed on Danny in a manner that made her skin crawl, though she managed an indifferent stance. “We prepared quarters for you. With the children. They are looking forward to seeing you again.”

As she turned toward him, he gave her a mocking bow. “I wouldn’t suggest resisting us, Lady D. You are heavily outnumbered, and you will need all your energy to keep my darling tykes entertained through the long hours. Being penned up so much, they don’t sleep much during the daylight hours. And if you can keep them from feeding on you, you’re welcome to try and steal a sip from them.” As he jerked his head toward the barn, the males closed around her.

Lyssa had reckoned that no matter Danny’s strategy, based on her flight plan, it would be tonight before she and Ruskin got into it.

Dev had to appreciate Alistair and Lyssa’s willingness to fly during daylight, with heavily draped windows and backseat, such that there was almost no air back there at all in the stifling heat, the plane bouncing erratically over the thermals rising up from the Outback. Thank God that Alistair also had his own private plane that could carry up to ten, so there’d been no need to wait for a charter. Dev rode in the copilot chair, and Nina and Thomas sat in the row of seats behind them. Nina was unruffled, humming to herself as she gazed out at the view, holding on to the strap to buffer the jostling. Thomas tried hard not to get airsick as he watched over her.

Dev tried to doze, knowing he might need the sleep, but he had a hard time of it, not only because of the cramped quarters and loud roar of the engine, but because of that nagging sense of urgency. He’d had the desire, every other second it seemed, to reach out to Danny, speak to her, tell her he was coming. He didn’t know if it was pride, residual awkwardness or intuition that made him hold off. Or if knowledge of what was happening to her might drive him mad.

Elisa had surprised him with her candor when he’d managed to connect with her by radio. “She’s gone, sir,” she’d reported unhappily. “We think she’s going to challenge him to a duel, for she was practicing with her swords. We couldn’t get her to pay attention to anything else. Left me and Willis this sealed envelope, I’m sure with instructions of what to do if she doesn’t return. Oh, Mr. Dev . . .”

“You did fine, Elisa,” he said. “We’re going after her. You hold tight. Light a candle for us. And it’s just Dev.”

Hell, light a whole bonfire, because he was sure they were going to need it. He had the same feeling Elisa did. He stifled a curse.

Challenge Ruskin to a duel, as if they were at some kind of fucking court event with king and country looking on. But following Danny’s savvy mind, he figured that was what she was counting on. She was playing on the old bastard’s pretensions at being a bloody noble. But she was also underestimating the sick underlayer, the one that would trump all that if he thought she had a shot.

To Ruskin, to vampires as a whole, it seemed honor lay in winning, not necessarily in being honorable. And from watching her fence, Dev knew she had a hell of a good shot of winning.

Sitting in the plane, he’d gone over that first duel in his head a million times, every step she’d made, down to the one that had cost her the match. The subtle shift when she lost her balance and Ruskin cut under her guard, barely. Another second left or right and she would have avoided it. It had looked purely like a mistake, caused by his interruption in her mind, something she’d never taken him to task about, oddly. Because she’d intended to lose. She’d been gauging his strengths, setting Ruskin up to be overconfident.

With Ian, until the actual decapitation, she’d been dispassionate about her feelings for him. Such that Ruskin was as astounded as anyone in the room with the vicious decisiveness of her attack.

Yeah, his vampire had a bit of the sociopath in her, she did. The planning and patience required for Ian’s death would have been admired by any soldier who’d had to lay motionless for an ambush. Hour after hour, as mosquitoes settled on flesh burned by the sun and flies crawled up your nose until you thought you’d go mad with it. And maybe she had, because she certainly hadn’t put that kind of planning into her confrontation with Ruskin. Maybe because of Dev. She knew he wouldn’t wait forever, because he’d said so, and she didn’t want him involved. To protect him.
Christ.

They still had an hour to go before reaching Darwin. And night was closing in.

Lord Charles could have sent his men to retrieve her, bring her to the practice courtyard where he would complete his exercise in domination. However, he couldn’t deny himself the pleasure of seeing his guest, normally so well put together and remote, reduced to rags and blood, carrying the exhaustion that would have come from fighting for her life until dusk. It was unlikely the children had killed her, of course. Not only did none of them have access to a stake or cutting tool, they’d be more interested in draining her rich vampire blood. And the more blood she lost, the harder she fought them, the weaker she would be.

As they slid back the door to the outbuilding where the cages were kept, as well as the communal pen where they’d released them last night, his gaze went to the latter area.

He didn’t see her at first. He’d brought the original pack numbers up with another handful, but he wasn’t surprised to see some of the newer ones dead. They weren’t properly seasoned yet. He was impressed, regardless. She’d killed about six.

No matter. The orphan service was good about sending replacements whenever he asked for more, citing the growth of his interests and more placement opportunities. Particularly when he coupled it with donations to their cause and requests for more school materials because of his desire to educate them. His lips twisted. His money and position made it easy for them to accept it, the bleeding heart fools. He told them he’d found the children various homes with remote station families, to learn the trades of shearing and cattle. Forged happy letters from the tykes. The white ones, because, of course, aboriginal children were no problem at all, their parents having no rights to reclaim or locate their snatched children anyway.

Still, it was a loss. The remaining children were milling on one side of the pen, pacing, snarling, but at his presence they cowered back, always uncertain of his mood until he produced food or a demand. Many of them had been wounded, repeatedly it seemed.

Arms at odd angles, some limping. There was torn flesh that would mend in a day or two, perhaps longer, because even with the conversion, children did not heal as fast as adult vampires. One or two had been blinded, eyes gouged out. These whined piteously, even as they hissed at their brethren who came too close and tried to take advantage of their weakness. She was a nastier fighter than he’d given her credit for, and of course some of them had taken the easier route of satisfying their hunger on their fallen brethren.

That was the problem he couldn’t surmount, that he’d had when chasing her servant. They were scavengers primarily, and would take a fresh kill over pursuing the stronger, moving trophy. But older children had more of the craving for the hunt in them, so he’d made sure the newer ones were older. Ten and twelve years of age. With satisfaction, he saw those were still prowling, looking for an opening against her. Though she was a vampire, they still knew the rich aroma of prey.

She’d struggled to her feet at the sound of the door rolling back, for there was straw sticking to the back of her shirt and trousers, though that could have been from her struggles throughout the night. Her hair was an unruly mess, no longer the soft style that had made her face look so deceptively angelic when she’d stepped from the car. Remembering how she’d disdained his hand on his front porch, his lip curled. She wasn’t getting the opportunity to scorn him, ever again.

If she’d shown him one moment of favor, bowed to his authority, he might have entertained the idea of an alliance, for her standing was strong among the vampire world. And she did have her appeal. When she turned her face to him, the defiance in her eyes aroused as much as angered him. The latter was mollified by her pallor. They hadn’t let her feed. Good pets. He would make sure his vampires tossed them a whore from town tonight or a swagman drifting through that no one would miss. While they fed on the blood, he would feed on the screams of the confused and terrified humans. Better than sex, practically. Able to be enjoyed by oneself, fully. When he had such thoughts, he knew he was meant to be a king. Perfect isolation in one’s own mind, while dominating the world around him. He didn’t need Lady Daniela or anyone else.

The blood on her clothes, copious amounts of it, told him she’d likely been wounded numerous times. While she was almost two hundred and her healing was swift, vitality had to be restored with blood. Blood she wouldn’t get.

What had happened with that servant of hers? Why wasn’t he with her? He would have enjoyed tormenting him in ways that could stretch on for days, but he put that dissatisfaction aside when he noted some of her struggles had landed her in the waste often left in the pen by frightened human victims. They had it mucked out once a week for that reason. However, he didn’t want the stench to distract him from the pleasure of bringing her to her knees. Because while he had her down there, he’d make her suck him off. Yes, he liked that idea exceedingly well. Once she was under his control, he’d even fit her with a permanent bit, stretching and tearing those pouty lips, so she would have to service him whenever he desired, with no ability to dismember him with her teeth. It made him hard, just thinking about it, and he was almost impatient with the duel, wanting it out of the way.

“Take her to a room, let her clean herself up and prepare her weapons.”

“Coward.”

Danny stepped out of the corner after Lord Ruskin issued the command, causing him to stop and turn. Sending a warning look to the two circling vampire children, she made it clear they’d regret making another move forward. Probably because they’d had enough of her blood to be halfway sensible, they hung back. Still, they were opportunists, so she proceeded carefully to the front of the big pen. “My mother told me you were not even man enough to stay in Darwin during the war, when it was bombed. You fled, like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs.” Thinking of Dev, the battle wounds he’d sustained, her voice strengthened. “While Aussies and Brits alike went toe-to-toe with the Japanese.”

“Why do I care who wins human wars?” He scoffed. “We’re far superior to them. It affects me not at all.”

“No, you wouldn’t care. Any more than you care what true honor and courage are.” She spat then. The tomboy skill she hadn’t exercised in years kicked in enough to win her the small victory of the saliva striking the front of his perfect linen shirt. “You wouldn’t know true nobility if it bit you on the backside,
Lord
Charles.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said after a long moment, when it was obvious that fury had robbed him of speech. “Take her out in the yard, strip and hose her down like you would stock.”

When she saw the imagining of it flash through his eyes, she sickened at the visible swell in the front of his breeches. “Let her change into the appropriate clothes out there and give her the blades she’s brought,” he continued. “Don’t leave her alone for any reason.”

Danny knew it was a futile expenditure of energy and a telling one, for she should have been able to give considerable trouble to vampires under the age of fifty, as these “sons” of Charles’s were. However, she wouldn’t capitulate, strip before those leering male eyes. So they closed in on her and she struggled while they tore her clothes from her, rolling her over in the dirt of the yard, kicking at her, punching when needed, groping whenever they could get lucky, while she screamed and fought back. She landed a few blows of her own that, like the children, had them somewhat wary by the end, but only the way men around a calf were, knowing they would overpower the poor beast with only a certain amount of caution.

At least the water was not cold, but the humiliation made her wish for Dev’s ability to block things out as she stood in the center and they washed her down like cattle, then made her stand, naked and shivering while they retrieved her travel bag with her blades and fencing clothes.