Love Charms (155 page)

Chapter Nine

Beth smelled a
scent she'd never encountered before and the overpowering strength of it halted
her thrashing head. Quickly, cold, thick liquid pressed to her lips. Her
scattered thoughts held no reason, and then she heard the voice she'd learned
to trust commanding her … and she drank.

Heat seeped into
the tissues of her mouth, then down her throat. She moaned … and without her
immediate knowledge, her body began to relax as she sucked more of the
intoxicating liquid into her mouth. Her emotional and deranged thoughts began
to sharpen into sanity. All at once, she knew where she was. She knew what was
happening and she knew why. The miracle was she was no longer afraid.

"Finish it,
Doctor," Trinity's voice sounded above her, and she smiled … drinking his
essence.

She never felt
another stab of pain as other things became important to her. She could hear
the breathing of each person in the room. Trinity's sounded hollow, but the
other two were shallow and strained. Their heartbeats ran fast in the woman and
slower in the man. Beth could feel their blood flowing and she could hear her
brother's pacing at the front of the mansion. His shoes tapped the marble. His
heartbeat was strong.

But then,
Trinity pulled his wrist from her sucking mouth. "It's enough," he
warned.

She mewled with
loss, finding herself pleading, "Please, more!" She felt as if she
might do anything to have more of the euphoric heat that was spreading through
her body.

"It's
done," Doctor Latham announced. "Thank god," he added with a tired
voice.

Beth was ready
to lurch upward to try to convince Trinity to give her more of the tempting
liquid, but his hands held her down.

Trinity's hair
fell forward as he looked down at the small stitches across the paleness of
Beth's back. He'd heard her plea for more of his blood and it disturbed him.

"Tell the
brother it's gone well and his sister is sleeping. He shouldn't disturb her.
You will return in the morning to check on her," Trinity ordered.

He knew Latham
had a questioning look for him, but he didn't glance upward to accept it. He
heard Beth sigh at his proclamation. She turned her head to the side trying to
look up at him, kneeling beside her. He held her wrists prisoner with his other
hand pressed into her shoulder blades.

Latham's helper
rose off Beth's thighs, then she fastidiously gathered the bed linen to pull up
over Beth's lower torso.

"Will you
let me go?" Beth's voice turned sensual, tempting him.

He didn't
answer, he just laid his hands more firmly and held unearthly still, until the
doctor was packed and ready to leave.

"I will
return in the morning," Doctor Latham said. Then they were gone with the
door clicking shut in the quietness behind them.

"I can feel
you," Beth whispered.

"I can feel
you," he responded. He could feel her body flowing with the desire for
more of his blood as his body flowed to give it to her.

"What's
happening to me?" Her plea sounded as lost as he felt.

He could tell
her he didn't know, because he didn't, but he couldn't frighten her. "The
affects will wear off." He grimaced at the lie, even when he was such a
good liar.

"No!"
The word was a small cry from her plush lips as she twisted her wrists beneath
his hand. "Please, Lord Trinity, please let me taste more. I will do
anything." Her breath panted with temptation.

Trinity could
feel her craving like a live thing skittering in his mind. The innocent Lady
Beth Winslow was gone, and he knew …
he
knew all he had to do was to
release her and she would curl and press her naked body against his. Her body
would move with driving lust for more of his essence, but not of her own
conscience. It would be his blood's fake allure.

All he had to do
was release his hold. "Maiden, you must be stronger than your urges, you
will
regret them," his voice rasped low over the pain in his fangs.

Beth mewled in
disappointment and he could feel the battle she waged internally. She wanted
him. He wanted her. Why must they deny it?

"You want
my blood,
not
me," he charged harshly.

"That's not
true," she cried. "I-I …"

"You are
too innocent to know the consequences."

"You are so
cruel," Beth sobbed. "I hate you!" she cried.

"You would
tempt the beast?" he asked with a harsh snarl as he pushed away from her,
releasing his hold.

"Trinity!"
Beth implored, rising upward. She turned to sit, clutching the bed linens to
her chest as her gaze frantically shifted over the room looking for him.
He
was gone.

"No!"
she cried tragically. "You cannot leave me like this."

Large tears fell
hot on her cheeks as she whimpered with loss. Her desire was to feel the heat
of Trinity's blood again. It held the most exquisite feelings she'd ever felt.
It made her feel worldly and mature. She thought with the essence of it flowing
through her she understood the desires of men and women, something she was
innocent of before. She'd also felt the dark demons that lurked in Trinity's
soul. Things that drove him, but he feared to look at too closely.

Then tingling
began in the far reaches of her limbs, like the sparks from fire, moving up her
arms and legs. Haunting intuition told her the amazing effects of Trinity's
blood were leaving, and she moaned in denial, falling on her side, unconscious.

***

Adam closed the
door on the doctor's carriage and stepped back. The driver up top set the
conveyance into motion and Adam turned back to his step uncle's mansion.

"She's
going to be all right," he muttered to himself, still feeling bone-deep
relief. Yet he walked to the door in conflict. The doctor had said not to
bother Beth until morning, but he worried about leaving her alone … at night.
So vulnerable. At the same time, he wanted to tell the authorities about the
woman in the woods and he was uncommonly nervous about Lady Ariel and what she
might be doing.

Beth won, of
course. He couldn't leave her where Fanton might soon be lurking, so he
retrieved a wingback chair from the front parlor. He carried it to her door,
set it down, settling in for the remainder of the night. Once the quietness
soothed his body into relaxing, his mind wouldn't forget the evenings
perplexing questions.

"Who is
Christian Blacknall?" he muttered. "What is he?" Whatever they
were, and Adam knew the Blacknalls were not human men, they seemed to have a
code of morality about them. "Men who many times look like men but are not
men?"

He tugged a hand
through his hair, shrugging in the chair, remembering the last sight he had of
Christian Blacknall. The man's handsome face had looked fiercely primal. Adam
knew he would sound insane trying to tell anyone about the things he'd seen
that night. Something, however, inside him wanted to keep Christian Blacknall's
secret. All the Blacknalls had helped them. They'd saved Beth. He wondered what
she'd seen, and what she'd think once she had calmer thoughts.

It appeared to
him Lord Trinity had intimately saved Beth's life. From what? What kind of man
could rip apart a human body like the one he'd seen? Yet now he knew there were
other than men that walked the earth. He worried his fingers over his temple as
his thoughts just made more confusion and less answers.

"What
leaves you sitting in a chair in the hall, stepbrother?"

Adam's body
jerked from being startled at the sudden voice. His gaze leaped upward to see
Fanton wearing pristine eveningwear, standing two feet in front of him. Bloody
hell, how did Fanton get so close to him without him hearing?

 "Fanton,"
Adam expelled, quickly standing as he watched Fanton look as though he were
barely sniffing the air, while his gaze latched onto the door behind Adam's
back.

"Who is in
there?" Fanton's eyes gleamed toward the closed door.

 "Where
have you been, Fanton?" Adam demanded, angrily.

It seemed hard
for Fanton to turn his interest away from the door. "At a whorehouse, if
you must know," he answered. His voice was a lazy drawl as his black eyes
slowly turned to Adam. "After Lady Ariel couldn't tear her thoughts away
from you or Beth, I became bored and left." Fanton seemed a little taller
or broader … he definitely appeared to have more glossy perfection about him,
as he added snidely, "I tell you, that is why I never attend society
events. They are so trite and wearisome."

Adam frowned,
barely able to keep from grinding his teeth. "Were you in the garden
tonight, Fanton? At the ball?"

Fanton's gaze
instantly sharpened. "No, stepbrother, I cannot think of one reason I
would be in the gardens."

An outright
lie
, Adam thought, because Lady Ariel placed him there at least for a few
moments. Why would Fanton lie if he were not hiding something? Adam decided he
didn't want Fanton to know the full of what had happened that evening, so he
held back.

"Beth's
turned her ankle," he said watching Fanton's reaction, which oddly turned
into a smug look. "The doctor's been around and she will be fine with some
rest."

"And you've
just decided she needs a guard outside her resting place … in her own
home?" After slinging his barb, Fanton adjusted his tailored evening
jacket.

Bastard.
Adam knew Fanton was toying with him and they both knew it, but neither would
reveal themselves to say it. "It should be obvious I'm here to help her
should she need assistance in the night."

Fanton frowned
with a gleam growing in his eyes. "You are always such a dutiful brother
to little Beth."

"At least I
would never leave her unattended to an event I'd escorted her to," Adam
replied tersely.

Fanton stepped
closer with a new fierce look on his features, and Adam nearly stepped back
with the power he could feel emanating from him. "Be careful, Adam. It's
not wise to provoke me."

Adam tensed his
posture, attempting glare for glare. "What's happened to you?" he
demanded. "You're not the same ever since our parents died."

"
Killed
themselves, you mean." Fanton spat the heresy as though he enjoyed the
thought and didn't care his father had died.

"I'll still
never believe that," Adam responded hotly.

"You can't
believe
your
mother would do such a thing? Stab him in the neck,"
Fanton gloated with a hiss. "I'm fucking glad he lived long enough to
stab
her back," he spat.

"No!"
Adam shouted, and his anger raised his fist toward Fanton's sneering face.
"
He
killed her!"

Adam thought he
was going to have the rash opportunity to smash Fanton's face as his fist swung
toward it, but suddenly Fanton's hand was there. Fanton snatched his swinging
fist, stopping the force of his punch as easily as if he were holding a small
child back.

Impossible,
Adam thought, as he groaned at the crushing pressure Fanton squeezed over his
clenched fist. Fanton pushed with unbelievable strength and a sneer of white
teeth. Adam was forced backward, disbelieving the power as he toppled against
the chair, pushing it to the side, then his back hit the door with a thud.

"Fanton,"
Adam gasped at the pain and immense pressure that seemed to build around him.
He saw Fanton's eyes with flashing red centers as Fanton growled an animalistic
sound. Adam knew Fanton was set to kill him as his littlest finger snapped
beneath the crushing pressure of Fanton's hand. Adam bellowed in pain, fighting
not to let Fanton push him to the ground.

Abruptly,
through the haze of pain clenching his eyes, he saw a beam of sunlight fall
across the side of Fanton's face. It was dawn and the light was streaming in
from the hall window. He was going to
die
at dawn!

Suddenly, Fanton
shouted a horrendous groan and stumbled back, releasing him. Adam clutched his
hand as he bent at the waist in pain, but still looking up at Fanton in horror.

"
What
are
you?" Adam shouted fiercely over his pain.

Fanton was
glaring at the ray of sunlight across their path as though it were a vile
thing. Then he turned his body, gathering his cloak around himself, and stalked
away.

Chapter Ten

Trinity had an
hour before dawn to survey the site of the freshest murder and the surrounding
woods for clues about the killer. He could walk by daylight; however, it was
uncomfortable and he preferred not to ride in sunlight. Therefore, the grey
edges of dawn found him standing over the bloody remains of the woman killed in
the woods. One would think the blood would taunt him, but his thoughts were
relentlessly on breasts of temptation and thighs of desire never before touched
by man or beast.

"Hell,"
he muttered, rubbing a rough hand over the bristle on his hard jaw. He was
cunning and strong enough to take anything from humans. Even their lives. That
was the point. He was the predator and they were the prey. He'd learned that
well at the command of his Sire. He could still see the faces and hear the
screams. Hundreds of them. So helpless. The women and the children were
especially hard. The mortal dredges of him that remembered being human were
disgusted and deeply saddened by the powerless ones he'd killed.

He and his
brothers had been so young, as their vile stepfather turned each one of them
into vampires. One by one — and they'd been very afraid of him. That fear
of him had overcome their loathing to hunt humans for him to feed upon.

Their mother
hadn't realized when she'd married him what he was. He'd used every temptation
he could conjure to tempt her for the sole purpose of getting his hand on the
four little boys. He coveted them to feed upon at first, until they grew to be
strong enough to turn into vampires that would hunt for him. After the first
year of marriage, their mother was dead and there was no one left to save them.

Trinity growled
at his memories, wondering why they taunted him now, intertwining with his
thoughts of Lady Beth Winslow. Perhaps it was because of what could have been.
She was the kind of woman he would have married in his long-lost human form.
She had sweetness and curves to tempt him until old age. He wondered if he had
bound her to him now. Had giving her his blood turned her fate? It worried him.
He didn't want to corrupt her.

"No,"
he snapped, he
would
protect her. Somehow, he would keep her safe … from
himself.

Throwing away
his confused thoughts, Trinity crouched down to study the edges of the murder
site. He could see where the foul one had dragged his fresh kill into the small
clearing. More room to work. He wondered if human men could do such a thing,
while speculating about what the monster's point was. There was too much blood
left for a vampire and it didn't make sense the monster could be a vampire.
Vampires wouldn't tear their food apart in such an animalistic way. This was
passion of some kind. A deeply abhorrent lust.

He wondered if
Cull was missing another whore. He would have to ask him.

"Why play
with Beth?" he muttered. The nature of that taunting hunt was as intimate
as it was confusing. "It's nearly as if you knew her, beast. You could
have killed her at any moment before I arrived."

Trinity stood,
stretching his tall body. He circled the site with his sharp gaze magnifying
each torn leaf and broken twig. He easily found the direction the murderer left
and he searched to see if any small amount of his blood could be found. Perhaps
the woman had scratched him or a branch had gouged him. One small drop of the
vile monster's blood left that he could taste and he would know him the next
time they met, by instinct alone. There was none, so he followed the trail,
noticing how well the murderer ran through the forest without colliding with
large branches or falling over limbs. Night vision?

"It has to
be," Trinity muttered, stopping his search in one spot, where he could
tell the murderer paused. "Humans do not have night vision," he
affirmed, looking around the area. "Here, the monster turned back."

Trinity looked
back toward the direction of the mansion where he knew Beth came from, while
attending a ball. "Bloody hell," he snapped. "He
turned
back for her." Trinity looked around the area again. "He was leaving,
but he turned back for Beth."

The first edges
of dawn filtered through the leaves overhead and he knew he had to go and leave
further investigation until the next night. Nevertheless, he felt wildness
pushing at him, making him edgy and straining his control. The foul beast that
murdered women, ripping them apart for no other reason than some distorted and
malignant passion, was connected to Beth somehow.

Moments later,
he left the forest atop his stallion at a strong gallop. He was going to find
his brother Baptiste, the scientist. He had questions his brother might help
answer. Hence, when he arrived at Blacknall mansion, he went around back,
specifically to avoid Church. He wasn't ready for a question and answer parry
with his older brother.

He left his
stallion with the grooms. All servants at Blacknall estates were well-paid to
not worry about any strange events they might witness. Over the years, it was
proven money worked better than force to keep the staffs’ tongues silent about
the affairs of the Lords of Blacknall.

Trinity didn't
turn toward the main entrance. He walked in the direction of the tower on the
west side, and then he opened the heavy plank door to the dungeon beneath.
Baptiste had taken over the dungeon for his private work when he wasn't working
at the Royal Society with an august group of scientists.

The curving,
stonewalled stairs leading downward were dark with no light from oil or wick.
Vampires didn't need such trivial human confections. He could easily see his
way as though it were an overcast day. The steps were many, and they curved in
a circular fashion into the bowels below the mansion. Trinity noticed, as he
neared the entrance to the main chamber, that it was glowing with light. That
meant Baptiste had humans confined in the dungeon.

His brother
forever leant his scientific studies to the many unique traits of vampires.
Baptiste had proved many of the characteristics such as the process to create
new vampires. All the brothers adhered to strict rules against it. As Baptiste
learned about their growing traits such as night vision or how much blood they
needed to survive, he increasingly returned to the plight of the feeders.

Feeders were
hopeless human beings that some vampires used only to feed upon. They were
enslaved but never turned. These poor people were mere shells of themselves,
often emaciated of body and soul. Baptiste worked tirelessly trying to find a
way to return them to their former health and wellbeing of mind. Trinity knew
Baptiste had found the bodies of the lost souls easier to treat than their
minds.

When he entered
the chamber, he could sense two humans were about. His sharp gaze picked out a
man crouched in the shadows on the far side of the chamber, past the tables and
equipment of his brother's laboratory. What halted his steps, though, was the
woman perched on a high stool in the center of the workspace.

She was sideways
to him in a thin rail of a dress with bare feet balanced on the bottom rung of
a tall stool. Her hair was a glorious tumble of red hair, which was wild and
long. It was so long it fell down her slender back to the top of the stool. She
was overly thin and pale, making her easy to place as a feeder, and it gave her
a fairy-like appearance.

Baptiste's back
was to the entrance as he worked over some resourceful laboratory equipment,
and Trinity approached slowly, unwilling to alarm the woman sitting so
trustingly out in the open. She finally sensed his approach, and when she
turned her gaze to him briefly, he saw vivid green eyes before her gaze darted
away. She was off the chair and down on her knees with her thin wrists raised
upward to him as he stopped before her. Instinct told her he was a vampire and
previous forced servitude propelled her to supplicate before him.

"Damnation,
Miss Irene," Baptiste cussed, turning slowly.

Trinity knew
Baptiste knew of his arrival and the young woman's actions. It dawned on
Trinity that it was some sort of test Baptiste was trying. The woman named
Irene whimpered and began to shake so badly that her raised arms wavered. "Miss
Irene, you do not have to kneel or offer yourself like this anymore."
Baptiste's voice softened.

"I'd not
take your blood," Trinity offered. "Rise," he added, thinking to
help Baptiste's cause. This only brought a wail from Irene as she rose high enough
to scamper out of the laboratory and out into the shadows at the edges of the
chamber.

"Ah, bloody
hell," Baptiste expelled as both their gazes turned to watch her.
"She thinks you are rejecting her blood like it's demeaning," he
said, and then he added louder out into the shadows. "Not like you are
giving her freedom."

Trinity
shrugged, and pulled off the jacket he'd borrowed from Christian. "Do you
have an extra shirt?"

Baptiste raised
an eyebrow, propping his hip against the table he'd been working on as he
crossed his arms over his chest. "You came here for a shirt?"

Trinity threw
the jacket onto the table beside where he stood and he lifted his arms to
stretch his tall body to the left, "For that, and some blood would be
nice," he said leisurely, stretching his limbs to the right. He added
aloud for the benefit of Irene, "But not fresh blood."

A little while
later after he'd gotten a shirt and some of the stored blood they regularly
received from doctors leeching patients, he and Baptiste sat on either side of
a table.

"Dr. Latham
said you've been giving them your blood." Trinity inclined his head toward
the two humans hiding in the shadows.

"So you
left us so quickly to fetch Doctor Latham to attend to that innocent, Lady
Winslow?" Trinity shrugged, holding his brother's gaze. His brother's
returning half-smile was indulgent. "All right then," Baptiste said
slowly, "I've been administering vampire blood to several feeders."

"And?"
Trinity asked.

"And,"
Baptiste emphasized. "I've notated a dozen effects."

"A
dozen," Trinity muttered, scraping his jaw with his hand, and then he
uttered, "I
gave
my blood to her."

"Lady
Winslow?"

Trinity returned
a temperate look. "It took her pain away, but …"

"She wanted
more," Baptiste finished.

"What have
I done?" Trinity's fist hit the tabletop rattling even the sturdy legs. He
stood and paced away several steps, flinging his tangled blond hair back from
his face before he paced back. "What is it about this one woman?"

He stopped
before the table and watched Baptiste lean back in his chair with his gaze
drifting toward Irene. "Some feeders I've given my blood to have had a
different reaction. It's as if they've become addicted to it, while all others
only mildly crave it, but enough that's easy for them to break the desire."

"Some?"
Trinity questioned with a harsh voice.

Baptiste turned
his gaze too glare up at him, as he uttered, "One." He grimaced,
saying, "Just one."

Trinity's gaze
jumped to Irene and she wailed, and then she ran out of sight into one of the
cells. "Why?" Trinity asked with a crack in his voice.

"Even
vampires need to find a mate. Perhaps, to someday procreate." Baptiste's
handsome features looked like a battalion wall ready to defend his amazing
conclusions.

"What?"
Trinity shouted, on the edges of some beliefs he could barely believe or hope
were true.

"No!"
Baptiste exclaimed, standing, "I've not proven anything yet, just tossed
out silly theories. It's bringing Miss Irene's mind back and I will break her
of the addiction later."

"Is she a
virgin?" Trinity asked roughly, but in a calmer voice.

"Nay,"
Baptiste answered, grasping the back of the chair to sit once again.

"But Lady
Winslow tempted you. She tempted all of us." Trinity returned to sit,
slowly.

"Aye,"
Baptiste nodded, "But while it was exquisitely tempting, it didn't look to
me to be even half as much as it affected you."

"It was
staggering." Trinity's lips settled into a grim line as he placed his
elbows to the table. "It drove me to near insanity wanting to fuck her
while at the same time suck her luscious hot blood. Blood so pure it brought me
to my knees denying it."

"We've all
had the driving need to bite as we ejaculate, I dare say." Baptiste's gaze
trailed toward the cell that hid Irene.

"Yes, but
only at the last, bursting instant. It's always gone in seconds and not a
constant driving demand when just close to the woman." Trinity sighed,
adding, "She's not the least bit affected by me."

Trinity heard
Baptiste's surprised breath. "No entrancement?" Baptiste's voice
sounded harsh as he reached to the left for a piece of parchment and a quill.
He began writing on the parchment in a flurry. "She showed no signs of
arousal, even though you were aroused —"

"I'm
not
your test subject," Trinity interrupted irritably. He added, "But my
shaft was hard." He left the obvious unsaid,
therefore my arousal
should have affected her.

Baptiste paused
with his quill raised above the parchment as the fingers on his other hand
rubbed his temple. "Nothing I discover about vampirism is ever really
constant, is it?" he muttered. He laid the quill down and both his hands
came together on the tabletop as he sighed. "All right, brother to
brother, the virgin temptation could easily point to the nature of the
wickedness inside us instead of some predestined mate. You've sensed her above
all others, and I might add it seemed as if it is the same way you sense us at
times. This anomaly with Lady Winslow happened when she was in danger. Further,
there's the point she's not affected by your aroused allure, when every other
woman you tempt is. Times are changing, definitely changing."