Rose's Rapture: Lords of the Night, Book Two (12 page)

Hamish didn’t answer. Instead, he clamped the shackle onto his wrist as instructed. His skin began to blister on contact. He hissed under his breath. He could already feel his body weakening. Soon the hunger growing inside of him would be uncontrollable, then...

“How long have you been a demon?” Longfellow asked.

“A demon?” Hamish blinked. “Is that what you think?”

William’s lip curled. “Do not insult me. I know you are a vampyre. I’ve met your kind before when I encountered Lord Lyon. I’d hoped to find him here, but instead, I found you.” He shrugged as if that explained everything.

The mention of Richard’s name sent a sliver of ice down Hamish’s spine. So this fellow wasn’t quite mad after all.

William played with the sword, sending shattering pain through Hamish’s body. “I believe they call you a
glaistig
or a
baobhan sith
here in Scotland.”

“Actually,” Hamish gasped, “they call me Laird MacDougall.”

Longfellow shoved the blade harder until Hamish felt the tip protrude out of his back. He winced, then bared his fangs in protest. To his credit, William did not flinch or retreat. Perhaps he was truly mad, for only a madman would taunt a
baobhan sith
and think he’d live to tell about it.

“So what now?” Hamish winced in pain.

William scrunched his brows as if the question confused him. “We wait for dear Rose. She should be along any moment. I made sure
your
message sounded urgent.”

“You bastard!” Hamish tried to lunge, but the shackle and the blade hampered his movements. Pain shot through his chest, taking his breath. “She won’t come.”

“Yes, she will,” he said.

Hamish jerked against the restraint.

“Tsk...tsk...tsk, I’d hate to kill you before she gets here. It would ruin the fun of you killing her.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Hamish said. His head swam from the blood loss. If he didn’t feed soon, he might truly die.

Longfellow smiled. “We’ll see.”

* * * * *

CHAPTER NINE

Rose crumpled the missive in her hand.
He knew.
That could be the only explanation for the note. Her stomach flipped and her heart threatened to shatter in her chest. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. How had Hamish found out about her past? Her blood chilled.
Longfellow.
He had been here.

In the back of her mind, Rose had always been prepared for this day, but now that it was here she didn’t know if she’d survive. She knew better than to fall in love. Love was for fools and the young. She was neither, despite her behavior with Hamish. She reread the note.

Dearest Rose,

Someone has brought your past to my attention. Please meet me in the McClary family crypt.

Hamish

Why did he wish to meet her at the crypt? It seemed like a strange place to talk, considering all the other options. If he wanted to cast her out, all he had to do was ask her to leave. She would not protest. How could she, when it was the truth? Rose made her way out of the ballroom and slipped into the library. She threw the note into the hearth and then walked to the French doors at the end of the room. No one would miss her for a few minutes. She’d leave straight from their meeting and never step into society again.

Rose made her way past the garden, despite the darkness of the night. Her slippered feet fell silent upon the moist ground. She inhaled, attempting to shore up her courage, then exhaled slowly. Her warm breath left eerie tendrils floating in the air. Rose shivered and picked up her pace.

As she approached the crypt, she saw a candle flicker out of the darkness. She swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall. Rose tilted her chin higher and walked slowly down the stairs as if she were being led to the gallows. She would not allow Hamish or any other man for that matter to shame her about her past. She’d done what she’d had to do to survive. She couldn’t change nor would she...no matter how much she loved Hamish.

Rose spotted Hamish when her foot hit the last rung. His body was poking out from behind a raised crypt. He was lying on the floor with something shiny clasped to his wrist.

“Hamish?” she called out in confusion.

“Rose run!” he bellowed, then clutched his chest in pain and coughed. Blood oozed through his fingertips.

Despite the warning, Rose rushed forward. She could do no other knowing that he was hurt. “What has happened?” she asked, gazing at the wound in shock.

Hamish looked at her through pain-filled eyes. “Get out while you can.”

She crouched down and gently touched his arm. “I’ll get help.”

“It’s too late,” Hamish muttered. His green eyes glazed over and he started to lose consciousness.

Rose shook him. “Stay with me,” she said, then whirled and ran for the stairs, her feet slipping on the moist stones. She had reached to the third step when pain exploded in the side of her head. A breath later darkness enveloped her.

* * * * *

Rose awoke slowly, shivering, her body cold from lying on the stone floor. She forced her eyes to focus. She was in a small, damp room that reeked of blood. Rose groaned as she turned her head, every muscle in her body protesting. Hamish lay beside her. She saw no movement in his chest. His shirt now held no trace of white. Rose cried out and tried to cover the gaping wound with her trembling hands.

“You didn’t think I’d find you, did you?” Lord William Longfellow’s voice seethed from the shadows.

Rose flinched and turned to face the man who’d been her ruin. “I honestly didn’t think that you’d come looking. After all, it’s been ten years.”

He stepped closer. “Well, I did, and you were gone. I thought it was bad enough that you were a whore and then I found out the truth.”

“What are you talking about, William? Can’t you see Hamish is injured?” Her voice cracked on the last word.

“I know. I’m the one who injured him. Let me say, it wasn’t easy, considering what he is.” He stepped from the mire into the flickering candlelight.

“Is?” Rose shook her head in confusion. “Have you gone mad?” she asked.

“Perhaps, but then again, I’m not the one fucking a monster, my pet.”

Rose felt the color drain from her face. She saw Hamish tense beside her. Whether from William’s words or pain, she did not know. The only important thing was that he was still alive. Relief flooded her and suddenly she could breathe again.

“It’ll be all right,” she whispered to Hamish before facing William. Her lips thinned. “I am not nor have I ever been your pet, so it’s none of your concern who I choose to bed.”

William arched a brow, then sneered. “No, of course not, you’re a whore. You don’t care who or what you fuck as long as they leave the blunt on the table afterwards.”

Rose’s head rose a notch as she met William Longfellow’s gaze. “You must be right. After all, I slept with you.”

“You bitch!” William stepped forward with his hand raised, ready to strike.

Hamish shifted and Longfellow froze.

Straightening to his full height, William tugged at his sleeve nonchalantly. “You aren’t worth my time,” he said, glancing back at Rose. “In fact, I’d say in another hour your worries will be over. Isn’t that right, my vampyre friend?”

Rose looked to Hamish, whose pale face registered more than physical pain. She should’ve known Richard would never let her go somewhere without having someone in place to look out for her. She stared at Hamish. They both had been keeping secrets. Neither was worth dying over. Blood from the wound William inflicted gushed from his chest. She pushed her skirt up and began ripping material to stave the bleeding.

“You’re too late, my pet. Soon the need to replenish the loss will overpower his will and he will feed from the nearest food source. I daresay that will be you,” he said far too chuffed with himself.

“William, I beg you, don’t do this. Hamish is innocent. He knew nothing of my past,” Rose pleaded.

William scowled. “Innocent? He drinks blood in order to survive. He’s a monster, a murderer, can’t you see that?”

Rose could see a monster, but it wasn’t the vampyre dying beside her. “I always knew you were cruel, but I had no idea you were insane.”

“Sticks and stones,” he said. “I’m going to give you both some time alone. I am sure that when I return with the ball attendees we’ll find your lovely body drained and lifeless, while Hamish will have miraculously recovered. I believe the trial will be short and the punishment fitting, given the circumstances. I, myself, will play the long lost grieving husband.”

“Husband! How dare you after everything you’ve done to me,” Rose spat.

“How dare me? You have no idea the trouble you’ve caused me,” William said. “Fortunately, the documents claiming my rights to Hyde Hall and all that lie within it were easy enough to forge.”

Rose stood and took a step toward her ex-fiancé. “Please William, I’ll do anything you wish. If it is property you want, it’s yours.”

“Anything?” he asked, pausing near the stairs.

Rose didn’t like the sudden change of expression on his face. She knew what he was going to ask. Her head dropped to her chest. “Yes, anything,” she murmured.

“If I asked you to suck my cock while Hamish watched, you’d do it?”

She took a shuddering breath and swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “I said anything. Just spare him.”

“True love, how touching. As tempting as it is to watch Hamish while you pleasure me, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. You see, what I want is something you cannot give me.” He brushed the dust from his coat. “I want my life back, my standing in good society. All those things that the Earl of Lyon took from me because of you.”

“I told you I’d give you all my money. I have means now. You can start over. It’s not too late,” she said.

His face twisted with fury. “It is too late.” He turned to leave, but stopped short. “I almost forgot.” William whipped around withdrawing the sword hidden within his cane. The blade hissed, revealing inch by silver inch of the deadly weapon.

Rose watched in morbid fascination as he swung the blade down. Instinctively, she lunged in front of Hamish to protect him. Only too late did she realize he wasn’t William’s intended victim, she was. The blade sliced her arm, taking a deep bite out of her tender flesh. She cried out as her hand flew to the wound, which began to bleed profusely.

William glanced at Hamish and smiled. “See, I can be merciful, demon. Bona petite,” he said, then departed.

A low bestial growl emanated from Hamish’s throat as the gate to the crypt closed and a lock fell into place with a loud clank.

“Rose,” he rasped. “You need to get as far away from me as possible.”

“She laughed, but it held no humor. “There is nowhere for me to go,” she said, glancing around the tomb. The flicker of a lone candle’s light bounced off the dank walls. The chain was long enough that it could reach any part of the room. “If I don’t give you blood, you’ll die.”

His moss green eyes filled with pain. “And if you do, you’ll die.”

Tears filled her eyes as Rose reached out and brushed his cheek in a feather soft touch. “No one will miss a whore,” she said, knowing it was the truth.

Hamish’s jaw clenched and he moved with unexpected speed to grasp her chin. He tilted her face until their gazes met and locked. “I would appreciate it if you would stop talking about the woman I love in that manner.”

Fresh tears spilled over her lids, flowing freely down her cheeks. “You love me?” she asked, shocked by the declaration.

“Don’t be daft, lass. Of course I love you. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Hamish reached up to capture a tear with his fingertips, then carefully brought it to his lips. “Hush, my love. It breaks my heart to see you like this. I prefer to remember your smile as I seek my eternal rest.”

Hamish’s words jolted Rose out of her grief. “What are you saying?”

“I want you to kill me before it’s too late.”

Rose jumped back, her shoulder slamming into the wall hard enough to increase the flow of blood from her arm. “What?”

Hamish’s nostrils flared, he licked his dry cracked lips, and closed his eyes. “You must act quickly. The thirst grows. Soon I will no longer control it. It will control me. I will not lose you like I lost Agnes.”

“Who’s Agnes?” Rose asked.

“She is from the past,” Hamish said.

Rose clamped her hand over the wound and slowly approached him. “She died during feeding.”

He nodded his head, then turned away unable to meet her gaze.

Rose touched his face. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said. “Richard told me how dangerous feeding could be, especially when emotions are involved.”

“Twas my fault and I will not allow it to happen again to the woman I love.” He looked at her. “Now do as I say, lass.”

Rose shook her head. “I can’t. There must be some other way. Perhaps together we can break the locks.” Even as she suggested it, Rose knew there was little chance Hamish could help in his weakened state. She looked around for a piece of loose stone, but found the crypt in good repair.

“Ye know I can’t help. Longfellow’s aim was perfect. Not intended to kill instantly, only to slowly bleed me to death. This tomb is thick and well cared for. There will be no rescue.”

“No!” Rose pressed back, searching frantically for a means of escape. “You cannot profess to love me, then tell me to kill you in the next breath. You cannot ask that of me. You cannot. It’s cruel.”

Hamish watched her, tracking her movements like a hungry beast. His gaze strayed again and again to the blood flowing down her arm. His fangs extended and his stomach growled. “There’s a small dagger tucked in my boot. I want you to get it and plunge it into my heart. Do this for me, my love. Now!”

Rose jumped at his command. She stepped forward, her fingers trembling as she reached for the knife. Tears flowed from her eyes in rivers of sorrow, streaking down her cheeks. Then calm enveloped her as she realized what she had to do.

“Please, lass.” Hamish encouraged softly. His body remained perfectly still.