The Vampire Dimitri (27 page)

Wayren gave him a sad, soft smile. “But that's why men are here. To
be
bothered. To feel. To live. To
love.
And…to be loved. That is what makes you different from every other creature. And that is what makes man ultimately more powerful than the Fiend. Do you not see? He's taken your soul,
and with it, he's taken your very humanity. The very part that could save you.”

His belly twisted tightly and his head throbbed. Maia's face filtered into his memory, then was supplanted by Meg. And Lerina. He shook his head, but at the same time, something small and warm moved in his chest. Something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Wayren was watching him. “Very well, then. Dimitri of Corvindale, I wish you all of the best.”

 

During the ride back to Corvindale's residence from that of the sharp-eyed Rubey, Maia tried to keep her mind blank. She had so much to think about, so many emotions to sift through and to determine which ones to focus on, that she dared not begin it until she was in the privacy of her own chamber.

Preferably during another bath, where she might wash away the remnants of the interlude in Rubey's parlor.

She shivered, a little flutter of heat streaking through her. That episode alone was enough to send her thoughts spiraling into confusion. But she dared not let herself think about it now. About:
Nothing need change. We need tell no one.

Her lips tightened. Corvindale was addled if he thought nothing had changed.

When the carriage pulled up in front of Blackmont Hall, the first thing Maia noticed was another familiar vehicle parked there. Her stomach became a mass of fluttering bird wings.

Alexander.

As if she didn't have enough to contend with. Biting her lip, she opened the little door behind the driver and asked him to take her around to the servants' entrance.

It simply wasn't done, of course, for a lady of the peerage
to come through the rear entrance. But that would be preferable to trying to explain to Alexander why her hair was a mess and why there were four delicate marks on her neck. And shoulder. And on her gloveless wrist.

Thus, she slipped into the rear entrance and through the warm kitchen, down into the hallways that weren't quite as gloomy as they had been when she and Angelica had arrived here. At least some of the windows were unsheathed from drapes now, so many weeks after their arrival.

Maia sent a message down to Alexander that she'd arrived and was safe, asking him to come back later in the afternoon, for she needed time to rest.

No sooner had she sent off her maid with that task, and to order a bath, than the door to her chamber was assaulted by an insistent knock. Before Maia had the chance to bolt the door—for she well knew her sister—said sister burst into the room.

“Maia! Oh, thank heavens you're back!” She threw herself into Maia's arms, and nearly bowled her over onto the bed, for not only was she enthusiastic, but Angelica was also a bit taller and heavier than her elder sister. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

“I'm not hurt at all,” Maia replied, “except for the fact that you are squeezing the life out of me.”

Her sister released her and stepped back. “Is that better?” she asked. And then her face froze with shock. “Is that what I think it is? On your neck?”

Maia touched the bite marks, which were what had caught her sister's eye. “If you think they are vampire bites,” she said in a much lower volume than Angelica, “you would be correct.”

“One of Moldavi's vampires?” Angelica asked, sitting next to her on the bed. “Were you terrified? Did they kidnap
you? All I heard from Corvindale's message was that you'd been found safely.”

“Yes, I'm safe, and uninjured. Have you heard anything from Chas?” she asked in an effort to avoid Angelica's question about the bites.

“Chas has not been in contact, but we've sent a message. He'll be here soon. Alexander is below.”

“I know that, but I sent word that I would see him this afternoon. I need…to freshen up.”

“He's refused to leave. He says he'll wait here until you're ready to come down.”

Maia closed her eyes. Noble. So noble. “It will be some time before I come down. Perhaps you can tell him for me, that I am well, but I must freshen up.”

“I shall do my best, but he's as stubborn as you.” Angelica looked at her sharply. “What happened to you, Maia? Where did you get the bites?”

“I don't wish to discuss it,” she replied firmly. “But I do wish for a bath.”

Despite Angelica's protests and questions, Maia managed to send her from the room with direction to talk to Alexander. Then she indulged in her second bath of the day, along with her second bout of confused tears.

Whatever was she going to do about Alexander? How could she marry him after what had happened with Corvindale? How could she marry him when she was in love with another man?

In love with another man.

Those words jumped up out of her mental whirlwind of thoughts, freezing in her mind. Maia paused, water and tears mingling and dripping from her face.

In love with another man who happened to be a
vampire.

How
could
she be in love with him? The thought was
absurd. He was rude and arrogant and he raised his voice to her and he argued about everything. He condescended. He insulted.

He kissed her. Oh, how he kissed her.

He argued with her, but for all that, he didn't ignore her. For all his annoyed comments, he nevertheless seemed to listen to her. He was honorable. Intelligent.

He could never picnic with her, under the sun. He could never ride or accompany her anywhere during the day.

But the way he looked at her…with something in his eyes. Something…needy. Something lost. Something lurked there.

She let her hands fall into the warm, vanilla-and-lily-scented water, causing it to splash over the rim.

What a fanciful notion. That she was in love with a vampire. With the earl. With a man who could hardly stand her presence.

And if she
were
in love with him—truly in love, although how could she be,
truly?
—what difference did it make? He certainly couldn't love her. And…

She was to wed Alexander. A good man. Who possibly loved her, and who at least held her in high regard. Even if his kisses were boring and his conversation not nearly as interesting, if not as explosive, as Corvindale's.

The wedding was to have been…dear heaven…
tomorrow!

In the blur of Corvindale's disappearance and Maia's own abduction and return…she'd lost track of time. She was supposed to have wed Alexander
tomorrow.
No wonder he wouldn't leave.

Maia bit her lip again, noticing that it was tender from all of the worried gnawing she'd done on it…and perhaps from the rough kisses of earlier today. She closed her eyes, a flush of memory warming her. Pleasure stabbed her belly.

What was she going to do? She'd already postponed the wedding when Corvindale disappeared, but now that he was back and so was she…they must decide on another date.

What am I going to do?

Cold truth settled over her. She had to marry Alexander.

She was ruined now, thanks to the earl. She could even be carrying his child.

That thought turned her alternately hot and then cold again. It was followed by rage that Corvindale meant to pay her off by settling a dowry on her for her wedding, after he'd ruined her. To pay for the child, if there was one.

A child that would be passed off as Alexander's.

Nothing need change.

How dare he say such a thing? Perhaps for him nothing had changed, but for her? Everything. Everything had changed.

She'd done something outside of foolish, but…she'd do it again. There'd been no way she could have stopped, pulled back. She wanted him, needed him in that way.

What they'd shared had been… She shivered, heat unfurling in her again. It had been like her dreams. But better.

Real.

Maia's thoughts sharpened, settled, stopped. Her heart paused, her breathing stilled. Her dreams. Of making love to a vampire.

It had been him. Corvindale.

In her dreams, all along, it had been
Corvindale.

She'd been dreaming about him, ever since she moved into his house. And that last dream, the one that had frightened her, that had been filled with darkness and pain and
red
…that had been while he'd been captured by Lerina.

Was she somehow connected to him? Through their
dreams? Had she dreamed what he experienced? Or what he…dreamed?

She shook her head, shivering.
The Sight works in mysterious ways.

Maia wished suddenly that Granny Grapes was still here, so she could ask her about dreams and connections. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips. There were other problems at hand.

Like what she'd done today, with Corvindale, was foolish. She could ruin herself, ruin her family. Hurt Alexander.

But…despite the way he'd handled it, the abhorrent, cold,
earlish
way…she would have done it again. She would do it again. It had been
right
despite the fact that everything about it seemed wrong.

The water had turned cold, and her hands and feet wrinkled like a silk gown left on the ground. And still Maia didn't know what to do.

Logic, propriety, everything she'd ever learned told her she must marry Alexander. There was truly no good reason not to, and every reason to do so.

A broken engagement would cause a great scandal, particularly so close to the wedding. One of them must take the blame for it, and it would either be Maia—who would be ruined—or Alexander, who would be made a fool. She didn't wish either consequence, but certainly she didn't wish to make Alexander a cuckold nor a scapegoat, for that would be the result if she broke the engagement.

And if he made the announcement, which would be his right in this instance, Maia would be branded a loose woman. Her reputation would be ruined and she would never marry, and quite likely never be admitted into polite society again.

If she were with child, it would be even worse.

Nausea flooded her. How could something that had been so beautiful, that had felt so deeply
right
have such dreadful consequences?

She shook her head. Marrying Alexander wouldn't be so bad.

It would be good, in fact. It would be nice and it would be the right thing to do.

She rose from the tub. It was time to go down and see him.

 

Dimitri opened his eyes to find the point of a stake resting upon his chest.

“Do it,” he said, looking up into the dark, furious face of Chas Woodmore. He closed his eyes against the dimly lit, spinning room and waited. Hoped.
Put me out of this misery.

The pressure moved away from his torso. “Open your bloody eyes, Dimitri. I want to hear it from you.”

He forced his eyes open again, and the room tilted violently. He closed them, tasting the blood whiskey still clinging to his lips and tongue, smelling it on his hands and from the empty bottle on the desk in front of him. A bleary glance told him dawn threatened, but that the world was still silent with night. He was in his study, which was good, because that was the last thing he remembered. Settling into place with two—perhaps three—bottles of the stuff. Just as the sun went down. Tuning out the sounds, the scents, the memories, the darkness.

It was two days after the Incident at Rubey's.

Two days after everything had changed.

“What did you do to my sister?” Chas said. His voice was slick with anger and dark with loathing. He stood across the desk from Dimitri, a mere arm's length away. “I trusted you.”

“There is no explanation for what occurred. You have every right to finish things now.” Dimitri pulled his waistcoat helpfully away from his shirt. “I won't fight you, Chas. I won't even ask you to make it quick. Just bloody well do it. It's a long time coming.”

“Devil take it, have you had the whole bottle tonight?” There was a clink as Woodmore picked it up as if to check its contents.

“No,” Dimitri drawled. “Two.” His eyes sank closed. Oblivion was lovely.

More clinking and the rustle of books and papers. “What in the devil are you doing, Corvindale?” Chas demanded.

“Waiting. What the damned hell is taking you so long? You're never this slow.” His eyes remained closed.

“What did you do to Maia?”

Dimitri purposely picked the most vulgar of words. “I fucked her. I violated her. I bloody fed on her.” He tried to focus. “But she's going to marry Bradington. No one will know. And you're going to stake me. Anytime now.”

“And if she's with child?”

“I pray she is not. It's highly unlikely.” But, oh, the Fates, it was possible.

“But if she is…then Lucifer could claim him.”

A wave of nausea surged and Dimitri swallowed hard. As if the thought hadn't been swirling around and around in his whiskey-fogged brain, sloshing along in his upset belly. Threatening him for days, threading through his dreams. Silence.

Dimitri opened his eyes and found Chas looking at him. Pity seemed to have replaced pure loathing, although the hard, dark fury was still there. What the hell was he waiting for? Dimitri wouldn't have waited. He'd have driven the stake home long before now. “It was Rubey who told me,”
Woodmore said, answering a question Dimitri hadn't cared to ask. “Not Maia. She's said nothing. To anyone.”

Dimitri adjusted his position in the chair and blinked. Apparently they were going to have a civil conversation before the man killed him. “There isn't a damned thing I can do to change it,” he said. “It's done. I've settled a dowry on her—”