Kiss of the Rose (34 page)

He reached her before she could take a step and kissed her hard, his mouth hot and savage against her cold, numbed lips. “Go to Rhys, my love.”

She stumbled away, her gloved hand pressed to her mouth, and found her way to where Rhys stood already waiting with their baggage-laden ponies. She didn’t look back even though she knew Christopher was still there. She couldn’t or she would start begging, and damn him, he was right. It seemed she couldn’t have everything.

A shadow moved through the dawn light, and she recognized Elias Warner swathed in a black cloak. His smile screamed
victory
and Rosalind was reminded of what she wanted to tell Christopher: her fear that the Vampire’s warning about “his victory” referred to someone other than the king. Someone very dangerous.

With a gasp, Rosalind turned in the saddle to shout back at Christopher, but Rhys was urging their mounts into a trot and the stables were rapidly disappearing in the haze of rain. She had to warn Christopher, she had to tell him things were not as they seemed…

Christopher stood still and forced himself to keep breathing. He heard the horses whinny and Rhys shout for them to move along. He was doing what was best for Rosalind.

And it was ripping his soul apart.

He started running toward the stable, slipping and sliding in the rain-drenched earth. He couldn’t let her go. Why shouldn’t he be happy for once? What did he owe his uncle and the Vampires anyway? The cult of Mithras was a sham. He needed Rosalind more than anything and he would fight the whole world to keep her.

He gasped as a hand shot out and grabbed his upper arm, making him fall into the mud. By the time he regained his footing, there was no sign of Rosalind or Rhys in the stable yard or on the faint horizon.

He struggled to his feet. “What in God’s name are you doing here, Elias?”

“I see your betrothed is leaving you, Sir Christopher, or should I say, my lord?”

The gloating satisfaction in Elias’s voice made Christopher stiffen. “Why does that bring you such pleasure?”

“The Vampire Council will be pleased to see the back of a Llewellyn Vampire slayer. She fulfilled her part in the prophecy admirably, but, as you have found out, she is still a danger to us all.” He cast a sideways look at Christopher. “Unlike you, we have not all been seduced by her charms.”

“Really? You seemed rather enamored of her yourself.”

Elias’s smile remained undimmed. “Ah well, I did not bond with her as you did. It seems you have just enough Vampire in you to please the lady and not enough to cause any upset to the balance between Druid and Vampire.A perfect choice to fulfill the prophecy and destroy your Vampire kin.”

“And you were not willing to take the risk of losing your immortality just for a prophecy that might fail.”

Elias nodded. “There is that, but for Rosalind Llewellyn? I admit I did consider it.” He smiled. “How droll that the king would insist on a betrothal right there in front of him. It will be interesting to watch the noble Llewellyn and Ellis families trying to extricate themselves from this calamity.”

Christopher frowned as Rosalind screamed something in his head and his own doubts returned in force.
“Ask Elias what the Vampire meant when she said there was something more powerful coming after her. Ask him why they decided she needed to die.”

“Tell me, Elias, why was it so important for the Vampire Council to rid themselves of this Vampire? I would have thought they would enjoy watching her gain control of the king, or even disposing of him.”

Elias’s smile died. “That is a vicious slander. We seek to live in peace with the human world.”

Christopher stepped closer. “Why did you want her dead?”

“She was half mad! The Vampire Council cannot allow someone like that loose in the human world. It is harmful for all of our kind.”

“Because she was hindering your plans?”

Elias turned his face away. “I have no idea what you mean, my lord.”

Christopher grabbed him by the throat. “I think you do.What is coming next? Tell me, or I will slit your throat and leave you here to bleed for the wolves.”

Even though Elias could easily have broken Christopher’s hold, he didn’t even bother to struggle.“Someone better. A woman who will do her duty to the Vampire Council.”

“What?” Christopher cursed silently and shifted his grip on Elias, only to have him disappear with a mocking laugh.

Christopher stared at Elias’s boot marks in the mud as they were gradually obliterated by the rain. There was another coming. One who had the support of the Council and new designs on the king.

He studied the faint horizon and slowly grinned. It seemed the prophecy had not been fulfilled.Whether she realized it or not, Rosalind Llewellyn, Vampire hunter extraordinaire, uppity baggage and his intended wife, would be returning to court— and to him— after all.

A
BOUT
THE
A
UTHOR

Kate Pearce
was born into a large family of girls in En-gland, and spent much of her childhood living very happily in a dreamworld. Despite being told that she really needed to “get with the program,” she graduated from the University College of Wales with an honors degree in history. A move to the U.S. finally allowed her to fulfill her dreams and sit down and write that novel. Along with being a voracious reader, Kate loves trail riding with her family in the regional parks of Northern California. Kate is a member of RWA and is published by Signet Eclipse, Kensington Aphrodisia, Ellora’s Cave, Cleis Press, and Virgin Black Lace/Cheek.

Read on for a special preview of Kate Pearce’s next novel in The Tudor Vampire Chronicles

Blood of the Rose

Available from Signet Eclipse in February 2011

R
osalind Llewellyn slid off her horse and immediately grabbed hold of the bridle. After she’d spent a long day in the saddle, her legs seemed unwilling to deal with the hardness of the ground and bowed like the branches of a willow tree. She glanced around the familiar stable yard of Richmond Palace and heaved a sigh. It was late evening, and everything was quiet. Despite her long absence, nothing had changed. Even the same horses’ heads were framed in the half-open stalls and the same voices called out to one another.

She glanced across at her companion, who was busy removing their belongings from the packs and simultaneously inquiring as to where he should stable the horses. Rhys looked the same as well— if she discounted a certain grim set to his features when he glanced at her.

“You seem a little out of sorts, my lady.”

“Of course I am. My cousin Jasper is perfectly capable of guarding the king. I’m not sure why I had to return to court at all.”

Rhys grinned at her as he led the first of the horses into one of the vacant stalls. “Coward.”

The smell of fresh grain and horse dung drifted back to Rosalind. She waited for him to return, her hands planted on her hips. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

He took her horse’s bridle in his gloved hand. “You know.”

“Have you forgotten that I almost died last time I was here?”

“Oh, I remember.” His smile faded.“I was right there beside you. You probably don’t remember that part, being as you were too busy making cow eyes at Christopher Ellis.”

“I was busy trying to kill the Vampire!”

He bowed.“As were we all. It didn’t stop you becoming involved with that soul-sucking Druid slayer, though, did it?”

He stomped off again and Rosalind could only stare helplessly at his broad back. It was true that she’d become intimately involved with Christopher, but Rhys knew perfectly well why that had happened. Between her Druid gods and the king, she had been caught very neatly in a sensual trap that she had still not managed to escape.

Rhys returned, and Rosalind touched his leatherclad arm. “If you want to return to Wales, I would quite understand.”

He looked down at her, his hazel eyes full of wry amusement, his lilting voice lowered to a soft murmur. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

Rosalind sighed. “I’m trying to avoid hurting you.”

“Because you plan on taking up with Lord Christopher Ellis?”

Rosalind raised her chin.“I
am
still betrothed to him.” She frowned. “I am somewhat obliged to seek him out.”

“Obliged, eh?” Rhys flicked her nose. “
Cariad
, you can call it what you like, but I know that you want him and that you don’t want me. I’ll try not to let it interfere with my job of protecting you.”

“I don’t know what I want anymore,” Rosalind groused and moved out of the way of an incoming horse and rider arrayed in the king’s livery. “I have not heard from him these many months.”

Rhys helped her over the stable wall, his hands firm on her waist. “He could hardly come prancing into your grandfather’s stronghold, now, could he? He would’ve been killed on sight.”

“That’s true, I suppose, but it would have been nice if he’d made the attempt!”

“Sometimes I’m glad I’m no longer one of your suit-ors. You have a somewhat bloodthirsty streak.” Rhys handed her the lightest bag, which contained her jewelry, coins and favorite silver dagger. “The position of your lover seems fraught with danger.”

“I can’t help that.” Rosalind took the well-worn path that wound up from the stables to the main wing of the palace. She couldn’t help but glance at the ruined Roman bathhouse, where she’d met with Christopher and the others on her last visit to court. Was he even here? She had no sense of him yet. In the last year, she’d perfected her barriers against him in anticipation of having to see him again, especially if he turned up on the opposite side of a fight.

She straightened her shoulders and focused on the welcoming lights streaming out of the palace. She would talk to Jasper tomorrow and see what calamity had arisen that had made him insist she return to court. When she’d left a year earlier both she and Christopher
had
suspected another Vampire plot was in the offing.

Rhys paused by the doorway into the maids of honor’s quarters and deposited her bags on the ground. “Your grandfather wrote to Queen Katherine to ask for permission for you to return to court, but from what the stable boy just told me, I’m not certain if she is still in residence here.”

“Then where is she?”

“I’m not sure.” He grimaced. “Apparently, the king does not wish to gaze upon her visage. She reminds him of his lack of an heir.”

“That is so unfair.”

“I agree. The queen is steadfast in her love for the king, but life can be cruel sometimes.”

Unwilling to delve into the thorny subject of love with Rhys yet again, Rosalind rose on tiptoe to pat his cheek. “I’m sure I can prevail on someone to give me a bed. Thank you for coming back with me.”

His smile this time was definitely rueful.“I didn’t have much of a choice, did I? Your grandfather was most insistent that I accompany you.” He paused. “And who is to say but that Lord Christopher Ellis might come to regret your betrothal and send you back into my arms.”

“Rhys!”

He winked at her and disappeared into the darkness, heading for the stable yard. Rosalind stared after him. Surely he hadn’t meant it? She’d done everything she could over the past few months to convince him that she was a lost cause. Whether she was reunited with Christopher or not, she couldn’t see herself turning to Rhys. He deserved more than that, deserved to be first with a woman rather than know he would always be second choice.

And he
would
be second choice. Rosalind closed her eyes and tried to imagine Christopher’s expression when he saw her.Would he be pleased or horrified? She couldn’t decide how she felt about seeing him again. All she knew was that he’d stolen her heart, her mind and her body, and she would never be the same again.

Christopher pushed open the door of the Great Hall. The rush of night air was warm and scented with flowers. He breathed in deeply, allowed the fragrance to settle on him. Something was different. Everything looked the same, yet everything had changed…

He looked around again. His mind was playing tricks on him. He could almost feel Rosalind in his arms, in his thoughts, even taste her… He shook his head to clear the strange sensation. Rosalind was safe in deepest Wales, surrounded by her family, and attended by Rhys Williams, who’d probably done his best to persuade her into his bed by now. Christopher slammed his hand against the oak door. And he, the fool, had let her go, convinced she would return to him.

Christopher muttered an oath and decided to seek his bed. He needed to be up early to make the journey to Hampton Court to attend the king. He followed the ragged path that led along the side of the Great Hall, his dagger at the ready, his mind unsettled.

A shadow leapt out at him as he rounded the corner of the massive structure. There were two men, and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t withstand the attentions of them both. He was slammed face-first against the wall, his dagger hand wrenched up against his spine and a blade to his throat.

“Christopher Ellis.”

He knew that voice, had trained alongside the man during his younger, more reckless years.“Sir Marcus Flavian.”

“You remember me. Good.” Marcus shifted his stance and jerked Christopher’s wrist higher.“Then you will no doubt understand why I am here.”

Christopher said nothing as he focused on controlling the pain.

Marcus laughed, the sound soft.“You are required to present yourself at our next meeting and explain your actions.”

The summons wasn’t unexpected. Ever since his betrothal to Rosalind had become public, Christopher had been expecting the Cult of Mithras to command his appearance. The only surprise was that it had taken so long. He fought back a groan as Marcus twisted his arm again.

“You will answer for your association with the Llewellyn bitch.”

Fury rose in Christopher’s gut, and he kicked out and caught Marcus on the shin and off guard. He spun around and pushed away from the wall with all his strength. The other man made short work of helping Marcus recapture him, but Christopher didn’t care. As he was thrown back against the wall, he glared into Marcus’s calm gray eyes.