Blood Lust (7 page)

It’s the most beautiful cold lonely house I’ve ever been in. Say goodnight to Rowan for me.

Hang in there, Darby.

About an hour later there was a quiet tapping on Darby’s door. “Come in, Bernard,” she said.

“We are having a formal dress dinner this evening. Master Devon has bought you a most lovely dress. It’s there in the wardrobe along with some shoes. I must admit, I’ve been impatiently waiting to see how lovely it looks on you.”

“That’s very sweet, Bernard, and how very nice of Devon.”

“Master Anton will be attending, as he is feeling better today. Dinner will be served in the dining room in forty-five minutes, Miss, unless you would like more time, I could stretch it out a bit. It is a woman’s prerogative to make the gentlemen wait.”

“No. Forty-five minutes should be okay. Thank you for the heads-up, Bernard.”

“My pleasure, Miss.” With that, he exited.

Darby hadn’t gotten this dressed up in ages. It was kind of a treat. She hadn’t brought any jewelry but she did redo her eye makeup and added a bit of blush. After the nap and her crying this afternoon, her makeup had all but disappeared. Now she looked at least presentable. What to do with her hair? She swept it up in a makeshift French twist and applied a ton of bobby pins to keep it in place.

She went to the large antique wardrobe to find a stunning black silk sheath and a pair of black satin pumps waiting for her. Devon had done a pretty good approximation in her sizing, although the dress was a bit on the tight side. The dress had sleeves but they were sheer so there was no way to wear a bra with it. It was simple and elegant all the same. She thought she would have picked the very same dress if she had gone shopping; very astute of Devon. She put on an extra dose of deodorant for she knew she’d be nervous. She guessed that the tension at the table could be thick, with all three men there. Last touch was a little color for her lips and she was done. She slipped on the shoes and headed for the door.

She heard a knock and smiled. She had hoped that Devon would escort her to dinner. She ran to the door best she could in the high heels. She opened it to find Bernard looking distinguished in a high-collared shirt that looked starched to the point of being painful. Her smile faded, but seeing Bernard’s smile and his eyes sparkle at seeing her, she couldn’t help but be happy.

“I felt a lady such as yourself, all dressed up, should have an escort down to the dining room. When I saw that Master Devon hadn’t done so, I thought I would step in.”

“And I am thrilled that you did, Bernard. It would be an honor.”

“May I say that you look absolutely stunning, Miss.”

“Thank you, again, Bernard.” She grabbed his arm and they headed for the dining room. Sammy was waiting for them at the top of the stairs with his ball.

“Not now, Sammy. You’re going to trip me in these heels and that won’t go over too well if we have to make a trip to the hospital.”

Bernard chuckled as he led her down the stairs and into the dining room. At the door he stopped and all the gentlemen stood at her entrance.

“Darby, you look lovely. Thank you for joining us,” Dominic said. Bernard led her around the table to her seat, pulling it out for her, and handing her a napkin. He then returned to his duties in the kitchen. The men in the room all seated themselves.

Dominic introduced his son. “Darby, I would like to introduce you to my son, Anton. Anton, this is Miss Darby O’Rielly, Devon’s guest.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said.

“Likewise,” she responded. “How are you feeling this evening? Any better? It’s certainly nice to see you out and about.”

“I’m good, thank you for asking,” Anton said. He had dark circles under his eyes and he was very pale, even for a vampire. He looked about Devon’s age. His hair was lighter and much shorter, more or less a buzz cut. He was thin but muscular and she couldn’t tell in this lighting, but his eyes were either blue or green. With an arrogant air about him, and a stern expression, he was polite, but didn’t seem to be enjoying himself in the slightest. He showed absolutely no emotion during the conversation, much like Devon the last few days. She wondered if Dominic hadn’t forced this meal on him. She wasn’t sure if it was her company or Devon’s that bothered Anton more. She tried to ignore the unpleasantries and focused instead on Dominic’s funny anecdotes.

It was apparent that Devon was trying to be cordial to Anton, and Anton was trying to be pleasant back, but the tension in the room was thick. Dominic, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying himself, talking about the time when all three boys ran around, inseparable. He spoke of happy times when Abby and Nathaniel would come to visit with the boys. He also spoke of Sophia and how lovely she had been. So much death had befallen this family in such a short period, no wonder the house felt so cold, Darby thought.

Anton spoke. “Dad, I forgot to mention I spoke with Libby today and when she heard that Devon was here, she insisted on visiting. She should be here in a few days. Hope you don’t mind.” He smiled devilishly at Devon and the room went silent except for the crackling in the fireplace behind Anton.

Dominic broke the silence. “Do you think that is a good idea, Anton?”

“Why not? She’s family after all.” Anton smirked.

Dominic was displeased. Devon seemed to be fuming, but trying to keep it under control.

Darby asked, “Who’s Libby?”

Dominic looked down at his plate, not making eye contact, as did Devon. Anton answered almost joyfully, “Devon hasn’t told you? Libby is my wife.” Darby wasn’t sure what to make of Devon’s reaction to this. Dominic obviously had decided to stay out of it.

Darby said, “Oh, right! Blake said you had been married, he just wasn’t sure if you still were. I’m glad to hear you’ve made it through whatever turmoil you had experienced. Marriage is so hard this day and age. It will be so nice to have another gal around to talk to.” As she said this she looked around the room at the men’s expressions: Anton’s was amused, Dominic’s was horrified, and Devon’s was enraged.

What the heck is going on here?
Darby thought. Anton, as if hearing her comment, shook his head, smirked, and laughed under his breath. Devon was none to pleased and it was at that moment that Darby tried to close her mind to all in the room. She wasn’t sure if she could be completely successful in a room full of telepathic vampires, but she tried her best.

Once dinner was out of the way, Anton quickly excused himself, as did Devon, leaving Dominic and Darby at the table.

Darby said, “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, my dear. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“But Devon looked positively livid,” she pressed.

“Not at you, my dear. Has Devon told you nothing of Libby?” Dominic asked.

“No. Should he have? I’ve never heard her name spoken by Devon or Blake. All Blake told me was that Anton was married but wasn’t sure if he still was. Why?”

“Well, it’s not really my place to say, but I am surprised. Given his reaction though, maybe I’m not that surprised.”

“You people and ‘It’s not my place to say’ – if I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that in the past few months…well, I’d have…a bunch of nickels, that’s what I’d have.”

Dominic chuckled and took a last sip of wine, wiped his mouth, and stood up. “Well, if Libby is coming, then I will need my sleep. I will see you in the morning?”

She nodded, smiled, and then turned to stare at the fire.
Talk about clearing a room.
Bernard came in just then to clear dishes. “Bernard, why won’t any of these men open up to me?”

“It’s our nature to keep things bottled up, Miss. I suppose opening up to someone can be perceived as weakness and we wouldn’t want to be perceived as such in the company of, say, someone as beautiful as you.” She smiled at his compliment.

“Do you happen to know where Devon has gone?”

“Yes, I saw him go down to the cottage a few moments ago.”

Chapter 6

Darby grabbed an afghan off a chair in the foyer and wrapped it tight around her. She opened the front door and headed down to the cottage. They called it a cottage, but it was actually a bit bigger than the house she lived in. It really was quite lovely, Darby thought, nestled among some trees with a view of the pond from the porch. Other than the porch light and a fire in the fireplace, it didn’t appear that any other lights were lit.

The snow was pretty much gone, but it was still brutally cold and slippery in a pair of high heels. She slowly made her way down to the cottage, carefully placing her feet. She tried to avoid anything that looked like a puddle or mud and had been pretty successful until just before she got to the porch. The leather sole of her shoe hit what must have been black ice and she almost fell. Catching herself on the porch pillar, she let out a little squeal. Devon heard this and opened the door to find her grasping onto the pillar, the afghan at her feet. He held out his hand to help her to the porch and picked up the afghan.

“Would you like to come in?” he said.

“I would,” she answered through chattering teeth.

She stepped inside the lovely cottage, gazing at the beautiful decor. The most striking feature was the intricately crafted stone fireplace that took up most of the wall. At the moment though, the only thing Darby could think of was heat. She headed for the fire. She turned to see her handsome vampire brooding in front of the fire with his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t suppose you want to talk? You looked like you were about to explode in there. I’m here, you know! Here for you and only you. I love you, Devon.”

He smiled slightly as he glanced at her, and then went back to his brooding with one hand on the mantel and one in his pocket. Wordlessly, she sat on the loveseat behind her and brought a quilt around her tightly. If he wanted to speak he would. She tried to keep her thoughts, doubts, and questions swirling around in her head hidden from him. He need only know she was there for his comfort.

Devon had taken off his dinner jacket and untied his bow tie, but he still looked like a picture out of a GQ magazine. The golden glow from the fire on his face, further defined his striking features. He was deep in his own thoughts, far away from this room. She wished she could comfort him, but he just didn’t seem reachable.

What could possibly be so bad? And how does Libby play into this?
She had come up with all kinds of crazy scenarios in her head, but none of them seemed to match what she saw in Devon. She watched him and stayed with him for an hour, maybe two, all the while he stood there at the fireplace like a sentry.

Finally, she could barely keep her eyes open. Toasty warm from the fire and the quilt, she hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. She was fighting with all her might to stay awake and enjoy this tiny bit of time with him even if he said nothing at all. She stood up, folded the quilt, and slipped on her shoes. Devon didn’t move. She wasn’t sure that he even knew she was there. He seemed to be made of stone except for the rising and falling of his chest with each breath he took. She held him from behind for a moment and stepped to his side. She brushed hair away from his eyes and kissed his cheek ever so softly. As she put her forehead to his cheek, she ran her fingertip under his chin and down his neck over his Adam’s apple and stopped when her fingers met his shirt. There was no reaction from him, whatsoever. She leaned back and kissed his cheek again and stared at his unchanging face. She stepped back, saddened by him and for him. She turned, grabbed the afghan she had brought with her, wrapped it around her, and opened the door. With one last look at him she whispered, “I love you, Devon Bloomington, with all my heart.” She turned and closed the door and headed up to the main house.

She felt as cold as the air around her. Her heart ached like a shaft of ice had just sliced through her. There was no breeze, no moon, and no noise but the sound of her footsteps. She looked back once to see if he had watched her, but he hadn’t. She knew in her heart he had not moved from his spot at the fireplace.
How could so much have changed between us in so little time?

When she was about one hundred feet from the main house, a gust of wind came out of nowhere, almost knocking her off her feet. She could have sworn she felt something sharp scrape her cheek and ribs. She gasped as she felt her face and side, and picked up her pace. As she turned to look back at the cottage, she thought she heard a woman laughing, the sound carrying on another gust of wind and that’s when Darby shut the door and stepped backwards into the foyer. Safe behind the door she could now feel that her beautiful dress was ripped as if with four evenly spaced razors. Her other hand moved to her face again. Welts were forming on her cheek.
How could this be?