Demon of Mine (14 page)

God, how she hated to admit it. She
was an idiot to have even entertained notions of ever becoming a
suitable match for Damon. But she’d been unable to resist, driven
to insane fancies by his promise of new life – something she’d
mistaken for a promise of equality. Now she saw that it was only
charity. He’d claimed otherwise, but of course he’d done that to
spare her feelings. He was too kind to her, but she should have
known better. After all, she’d learned her lesson a year ago. She
was not marriageable – at least, not to someone of Damon’s wealth
and status. She almost wanted to forget their encounter in the
garden altogether, but couldn’t quite bring herself to do
it.

There was still her life to consider.
Perhaps she should accept Damon’s offer after all, and then do her
best to fade quietly into the background. Her heart fluttered, and
the sensation was accompanied by a rebellious stirring in her core
as she imagined meeting him under the cover of night and accepting
his offer of transformation – and love-making.

“
Elsie?” Jenny leaned
further over the bed, her brow furrowed with apparent concern. “Are
you going to tell me what you’ve been thinking about?”

The lie came easily enough to Elsie’s
lips. “The trial. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it?”

Jenny nodded. “Quite.”

“
I can’t comprehend why
Griffith would go through all the trouble and expense of securing a
trial and false witnesses just three days after the murder, and
then mount such a feeble persecution.”

“
I’ve a feeling the
lightskirt – Ms. White – rather ruined it for him.”

Elsie nodded half-heartedly. “Perhaps
she would have been more convincing if she hadn’t been so deeply
into her cups.”

“
Or falling out of her
clothing,” Jenny added.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted
their conversation, a fact for which Elsie was grateful. As curious
as the trial had been, she had trouble keeping even half her mind
on the matter. She turned to the door, her enthusiasm fading when
it opened to admit the physician, escorted by a young
housemaid.

“
Good afternoon, sir,”
Jenny said, her tone perfectly prim.

Elsie echoed her friend’s greeting,
careful not to sound as annoyed at the doctor’s appearance as she
felt.

“
Mrs. Remington wished me
to see you,” he explained, already lowering his bag full of
equipment to the floor. “She feared the excitement of the trial
might take its toll on your health.”

It came as no surprise when the doctor
concluded, after a brief examination, that the lightest of
bleedings was just what Elsie needed. Apparently, he didn’t think
he’d drained quite enough of the stuff from her that morning. She
kept her expression neutral as Jenny neatly rolled up her left
sleeve, her fingers brushing the scars in the crook of Elsie’s arm.
“I’m not keeping you from your duties, am I?” Elsie asked. There
was no reason Jenny should have to aid in the rather distasteful
procedure. She was a housemaid, after all, not a
nursemaid.

“
Not at all,” Jenny
replied, gripping Elsie’s hand as the doctor held his scalpel
aloft. “Your care is my duty until you leave for Hertfordshire
again. Mrs. Remington has declared it so.”

Elsie smiled rather weakly as her arm,
still sore from her last bleeding, was sliced open again. While a
part of her was glad for Jenny’s company, being under her devoted
watch all day would make it virtually impossible to manage any
contact with Damon. If Jenny was going to remain by her side during
the day, she’d have to make sure she found Damon that night – if
his fiancé hadn’t arrived by then and claimed his
attention.

Chapter 8

The garden behind the Remingtons’
London estate was smaller than the one at Hertfordshire, but it
boasted rows of equally impressive rose bushes. Never had Elsie
been so grateful for their cover. Though she’d had no word from
Damon, she’d left the maids’ quarters as soon as she’d dared – at
nearly half past one. She had no assurance that he would be waiting
for her in the rose garden – only hope.

It seemed that his mysterious fiancé
hadn’t arrived that evening after all. Elsie couldn’t quite bring
herself to be ashamed of how glad she was for that fact. Vaguely,
she wondered where the woman was. Perhaps she came from the country
and had been delayed in her travels. The thought sent Elsie’s
stomach churning. This night might be the only chance she had to
speak with Damon before his fiancé arrived – if he even happened to
show up in the rose garden at all.

She drifted slowly down the path that
wound through the perfectly trimmed bushes, pausing to feel the
silky texture of a rose petal here and there. While she couldn’t
see them well, her sense of touch lent a certain clarity that had
otherwise eluded her since her vision had become so blurred. She
was becoming too used to her visual handicap for comfort. After
all, her vision would be restored soon. Wouldn’t it? A now familiar
tightness seized her womb at the thought of how the healing would
come about. She wasn’t truly afraid of the pain of transformation,
but if Damon desired to ease it for her, she wasn’t about to refuse
his chosen method of distraction.

“
I thought I might find you
here.”

Elsie whirled, almost losing her
balance in the darkness. “Damon.” Relief flooded through her, pure
and startlingly strong. Until she’d heard his voice, she hadn’t
realized quite how afraid she’d been that she wouldn’t find him.
Slight tremors of relief coursed through her body, and she couldn’t
help the breathy laugh that rushed over her lips.

“
Do you need me to guide
you?” He stepped forward and offered her an arm.

She didn’t need his assistance. She
was as familiar with this garden as the back of her own hand. She’d
walked the winding path during many a Sunday afternoon, but she
took his arm anyway. “Thank you.”

They walked in silence for a few
moments, following the path to where a bench waited, not far away.
“The trial today,” she said as he guided her to the seat. “It
was…”

“
Surprisingly easy to win?”
he finished for her.

“
Yes.” She meant to comment
further on Griffith’s lackluster efforts, but something entirely
different tumbled from her mouth. “I’m so glad you were declared
innocent.”

“
I have you to thank for
that,” he said, holding onto her arm as she eased onto the
bench.

“
Hardly.” She adjusted her
skirts as he settled down beside her, wonderfully close. Their
knees brushed. “I’m afraid I embarrassed you more than I helped.” A
flush heated her cheeks as she remembered the half-whispered
speculations concerning her reason for being so near Damon’s
bedroom during the night of the murder. Not that she was truly
undeserving of such speculation. The truth of the matter was
somewhere between the testimony she’d given and the suppositions
that had circulated through the audience. Images of what she’d
really witnessed that night flashed through her mind, causing every
last inch of her skin to tingle.

When he touched his hand to her arm,
her core tightened. It was almost unbearable, sitting next to him
and feeling his touch as the combined memories of the sights and
sounds of that night teased her. She could see him perfectly in her
mind’s eye, undressed, with his fingers wrapped around his
cock.

“
Did you really think I was
embarrassed?” A touch of humor entered his voice. “My reputation is
too far gone for anyone to care even in the least that a beautiful
maid might have been waiting up for me.”

A shiver of delight raced
down her spine.
Waiting up for
him
. She hadn’t been then, but wasn’t that
what she’d done tonight? Suddenly, she could stand the small talk
no longer.

As if he’d read her mind, Damon cut
abruptly to the chase, letting his fingertips trail down her arm as
he pulled his hand away. “I suppose I owe you the explanations I
promised you last time. That is, if you’ve decided that you could
stand to be like me.”

Like
him
. Her heart ached. She wanted nothing
more than to be like him, but knew that even if she shared his
immortality, she’d never truly be on his level. Telling herself not
to take his words for more than their most basic value, she
nodded.

He sighed, perhaps out of relief.
“Very well then. I must warn you that what I’m about to tell you
may come as a shock.”

Her heart fluttered, and her stomach
twisted with anticipation. Words failed her, so she nodded
again.

“
It all started before we
ever met, before your family’s house burnt down. It was my
sixteenth birthday, and my parents gave me the greatest gift they
could offer.” A sarcastic bitterness tinged his voice. “They
changed me – turned me into a vampire, just like them. After that
day I was no longer a boy, and I could never truly be a man. I
eventually matured into the physical likeness of one, just as I
would have if I’d remained human, but my growth was fueled by the
blood of the innocent – a fact which didn’t bother either of my
parents in the least.”

He took a deep breath and continued.
“I hated it, hated myself for a few months. Then I had a revelation
of sorts. I realized that I didn’t have to be like them, didn’t
have to drink the lifeblood of unfortunate victims. I knew my soul
was stained beyond repair, but it occurred to me that perhaps there
was some good I could use my unnatural strength for, something I
could do in apology for the evil I’d taken part in.”

Elsie listened raptly as he barked a
humorless laugh. “I fancied myself a dark hero. I took to the
streets of London, looking for those who I might save from
unfortunate circumstances; from lurking cutpurses, rapists,
murderers and the like. Sometimes I succeeded. Other times, when I
was too late, I avenged those I’d failed to save.”

He paused, and Elsie took
advantage of his momentary silence. The obvious pain in his voice
lanced through her, along with the urge to say something to assure
him that she admired him and the high road he’d taken. “I’m sure
those you saved are grateful that you were there to help them in
their time of need. You
are
a hero.” She touched her fingertips to his arm,
returning the small gesture of comfort he’d offered her just
minutes ago.

He laughed bitterly, tensing beneath
her touch. “None of my exploits make up for what I’ve done. They
never will.” He stifled her attempt to argue. “I didn’t tell you
this to solicit praise or assurances. I told you because there is
something I must confess.”

She finally withdrew her hand, placing
it in her lap where she smoothed her skirts unnecessarily. “I’m
listening.”

“
That night when your home
burnt, when you were just a girl – it was I who carried you from
the fire to safety.”

Elsie sat stiffly on the bench,
stunned into silence.

His voice softened. “You were the
first person I ever saved.”

“
You?” Elsie managed to
say, her voice rasping over her dry tongue. The realization crushed
the comforting thought she’d clung to over the years – the
conviction that it had been her father who’d saved her. Her spared
life had been her last tie to her father, to her family. Now it had
been obliterated. All that remained were memories, distant and
often blurred, as everything was to her now. The tenuous connection
that had stretched between heaven and earth, linking her to her
dead parents, had been severed with just a few words.

“
Yes. And I came back with
my father the next morning, hoping to lay eyes on you again. I
couldn’t get you out of my mind or my heart, couldn’t stop
obsessing over the welfare of the girl I’d pulled from the flames.
What good was it that I’d saved you from the fire if I abandoned
you to a life of hopeless poverty? So I pleaded with my parents,
convincing my mother to take you on as a maid. They don't know why,
of course. No one knows but you and me.”

He took a deep breath. “I’ve never
stopped thinking of you. I’ve watched you all this time, and now I
can’t bear to lose you to this illness. Elsie, you mean more to me
than anyone I’ve ever known. Every time I see you, I think that
perhaps I can serve some good purpose after all, that my existence
isn’t a total abomination. I can’t let a cruel twist of fate take
you. Say you’ll let me save you.” He took one of her hands in his
and squeezed, hard.

She opened her mouth to respond, but
he silenced her by brushing his fingertips lightly across her lips.
“Wait. There is one more thing you must know first.”

“
What is it?” Her voice
sounded breathy and shaky, even to her.

“
If I change you, you must
marry me.”

The night air was suddenly cold. Elsie
gasped as if she’d been plunged into icy water. There was no breath
in her lungs, no coherent thoughts in her head – only shock so
absolute she feared she’d never recover. “Marry you?” She tried the
words on her tongue, as if saying them could make them anything
more than what they had to be – a joke.

“
Yes. It is one of our
ways, one of our rules – a vampire cannot simply change a human on
a whim. Only family members may be changed. Unlawful changelings
are destroyed. Even if I transform you, it will be a waste if you
don’t become a part of my family – if you don’t marry
me.”