The Vampire Who Loved Me (19 page)

Portia slowly turned to find Julian standing
just inside the French doors at the far end of the ballroom. He was garbed all in black. He wore a black shirt with an elegant fall of midnight lace at the collar and cuffs and black breeches tucked into a pair of tall leather boots. He had never looked more like a prince of the night.

“Had I known Miss Cabot was going to deliver one of her impassioned speeches on the sentimental nature of true love, I would have tucked an extra handkerchief in my pocket,” he said, his cool, contemptuous gaze raking over
her like a particularly beautiful but lethal blade.

Before Portia could assess just how much damage it had done to her heart, Valentine unleashed a bitter laugh. “I knew if
she
was here, you couldn’t be far behind. It’s quite tiresome the way you trot at her heels like a stag in rut.”

“Don’t flatter the chit, angel. You know I trot at every pretty girl’s heels like a stag in rut…especially yours.”

Eloisa was beginning to squirm in earnest now, her big gray eyes filling with frustrated tears. Whining and fretting, she arched her back, obviously wanting to be set down so she could run to her handsome uncle.

Valentine hissed at her, the tips of her fangs just beginning to show. “I knew I should have given you a few more drops of laudanum.”

“Give her your necklace,” Portia blurted out, terrified Valentine’s legendary patience was about to run out.

Valentine shifted her glare to her. “What?”

“She likes to play with shiny baubles. If you give her your necklace, it may distract her for a little while.”

Valentine lifted one haughty eyebrow. “The
sultan of Brunei gave me these sapphires. Do you have any idea how much they cost?”

“No,” Portia replied, “but I’m sure you earned every penny of their price.”

Valentine’s eyes narrowed, but she drew the necklace over her neck and reluctantly surrendered it to Eloisa. Just as Portia had predicted, her niece was enchanted by the string of sparkling gems. Within seconds she was cocked back in the crook of Valentine’s arm, happily sucking on the largest stone. Her eyelids began to droop again, obviously still beneath the spell of the laudanum.

Shuddering in disgust, Valentine returned her attention to Julian. “So have you come to plead for your niece’s life? Because at the moment I would like nothing more than to see you on your knees before me.”

Julian shrugged. “The brat’s life is of little import to me. But I have brought you something I think you’ll find much more filling.”

He stepped outside the doors. He reappeared a brief moment later, driving a man ahead of him. Portia gasped as she recognized his friend from both the duel and the alley. Cuthbert’s hands were bound behind him and a grubby
cloth had been stuffed between his lips. One of his eyes was nearly swollen shut and ringed with an ugly bruise. Blood was still oozing from his split bottom lip. Valentine’s patrician nostrils flared as if she’d scented a particularly juicy cut of meat.

Julian marched his captive across the ballroom. Without sparing Portia so much as a glance, he shoved Cuthbert roughly to the floor at the foot of the stairs. Resting one booted foot on the small of his back, he sketched Valentine a graceful bow. “For my lady’s pleasure.”

Valentine tilted her head to the side and studied his offering for several seconds. “He’s a bit plump for my tastes, but I suppose it’s the sentiment that counts.”

“Ellie!” They all turned as Adrian’s cry of mingled joy and anguish reverberated through the ballroom.

He came running into the room with Larkin and Wilbury just behind him, their weapons at the ready. While Julian looked mildly amused by their sudden appearance, Valentine didn’t betray so much as a flinch of alarm. She didn’t have to. Not as long as she was holding all of the cards—and Eloisa.

Adrian stumbled to a halt several feet from the stairs, his desperate gaze flicking from Eloisa to Portia and finally to Julian before returning to Valentine.

“Give me my daughter,” he demanded, raising the crossbow in his hands and pointing it straight at her beautiful face. “Now.”

“Or you’ll what? Shoot me? If I were you, I wouldn’t so much as startle me. You wouldn’t want me to drop the child, would you? A tumble down these marble stairs would probably snap her fragile little neck right in two.”

While Portia inched up one more step, Adrian made an inarticulate sound through teeth clenched with rage. He slowly lowered the crossbow. “What do you want from us?”

His foot still resting on Cuthbert’s back, Julian spread his arms wide. “Isn’t that obvious? She wants what every woman with an empty bed and a lonely heart wants. Me.”

Adrian stared at his brother as if he’d never seen him before. “Have you lost your wits?”

“No, brother dear, I’ve finally come to them. Duvalier was right all along. Why should I spend a miserable eternity fighting my destiny when I could be embracing it? Which is why I
brought Valentine this tasty little offering as proof of my sincerity.” Cuthbert grunted as Julian stepped off of him and onto the first stair. “And my undying devotion.”

Valentine looked even more skeptical than Adrian. “Why should I believe a word you say? You and your precious little Penelope have already tried to trick me twice.”

He shook his head. “I was the one who was deceived by my ridiculous infatuation with the chit. After only one night in her arms, I realized she isn’t half the woman you are. She could never please me the way you can.”

Although he was now abreast with Portia, he was gazing up at Valentine, his dark eyes softened with a melting tenderness Portia recognized only too well. She turned her face away and bit her lip, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

“Was she truly so tiresome?” Valentine asked, sounding intrigued in spite of herself.

Julian continued to climb. “I can assure you that you would have found her pathetic attempts to please me just as amusing as I did.” When Valentine continued to eye him with open suspicion, he added, “I had her once before, you know.
When she was just a girl. I had hoped she would take a few lovers between then and now to improve her skills, but I’m afraid she wasted the whole time I was gone mooning over me like some besotted child. If you must know, I found her to be as clumsy and inept as ever.”

Portia sucked in a breath, her lungs burning as if she’d inhaled ground glass.

“You son of a bitch,” Adrian whispered, his worst fears about the crypt finally realized. His face going stark white, then red, he raised the crossbow again, pointing it not at Valentine but at his brother’s back.

Although Portia wanted nothing more at the moment than to snatch the weapon from Adrian’s hands and shoot Julian herself, she shouted,
“No!”
and lunged for Adrian.

Before she could even reach the foot of the stairs, he adjusted his aim and fired, sending the lethal bolt whizzing just past Julian’s ear. It embedded itself in the gallery rail with a resounding thud.

Julian slowly pivoted. As he gazed down at his brother, an insolent smile touched his lips. “It’s a bit late to be defending her honor, don’t you think?”

Adrian’s face was a mask of anguish and fury. “She saved your life in that crypt! And that’s how you thanked her—by robbing her of her innocence? My God, you are a monster, aren’t you?”

“So they tell me.” Dismissing his brother with a snort of contempt, Julian climbed the last few steps to join Valentine at the top of the stairs. She was beginning to eye him with new appreciation.

Prowling behind her, he closed his hands over her shoulders. “What do you say, love? Why don’t you give the brat back to my brother so you and I can finally be alone?”

Valentine glanced down at Eloisa, a petulant frown wrinkling her brow. “Oh, I don’t know. I was rather hoping we could keep her. If you’d let me turn her, she could be our very own little daughter. Strangers on the street would stop to admire and adore her, which would only make it all the more thrilling when she sank her little fangs into their throats.”

Julian grimaced. “What an appalling idea! Who wants to be saddled with a sniveling brat for all eternity?”

She sighed. “I suppose you’re right. We’d
never be able to keep a nurse. I guess I could give her up,” she said grudgingly. “But only on one condition.”

Julian inclined his head to nuzzle her ear. “Anything for you, my love.”

Her voice softened to a dangerous purr. “I want you to kill Prunella.”

Julian’s face went completely blank for the exact amount of time it took Portia’s heart to start beating again, then he shrugged as if Valentine had asked for an inexpensive bottle of perfume bought from a street vendor or a bouquet of posies filched from someone’s garden. “Very well. If I agree to kill
Portia,
will you give the brat back to her doting papa?”

“Only if you’ll seal our bargain with a kiss.”

He smiled. “It would be my pleasure.”

As Julian turned Valentine in his arms and lowered his mouth to hers, Portia thought she might very well spare him the trouble of killing her. Judging from the pain lancing through her heart, she was already dying. All that remained now was to lie down on the ballroom floor and wait for the undertaker to arrive.

The kiss seemed to go on for an eternity and when Julian drew away from Valentine, Portia
recognized the enraptured look on her face only too well.

“There. Are you satisfied?” he asked her.

“No, but I have the feeling that I will be very soon.”

“Oh, I can promise you that.” He gave her snow white cheek one last lingering caress before turning back to the ballroom. “Come here, Portia,” he commanded, crooking one arrogant finger at her just as he had done in Adrian’s library.

She stood frozen on the steps, finding it impossible to even contemplate putting herself at the mercy of this cruel, cutting stranger. But as her gaze fell on Eloisa, she edged forward.

“Don’t,” Adrian said hoarsely. “I won’t let you do it.”

“Don’t dawdle, darling,” Julian said. “I can remember a time when you would have gladly run into my arms, bleating like a lovestruck lamb.”

Her gaze still fixed on the tender innocence of Ellie’s sleeping face, Portia climbed another step, her feet feeling as if they were mired in quicksand.

Julian rolled his eyes. “She’s always been a hopeless romantic. Perhaps she just needs to be wooed with some tender words and courtly verse.” He folded his arms over his chest, looking directly at her for the very first time since entering the ballroom. “What is it my favorite poet once wrote? ‘She walks in beauty like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies…’”

As she gazed into the fathomless depths of his sparkling dark eyes, Portia’s heart swelled with emotion. She climbed the next step without hesitation, then the next. Still gazing into his eyes, she drew the scarf from her throat and let it drift from her fingers. Despite the tears blurring her vision, her voice rang out clear and true. “‘And all that’s best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes.’”

Then she was at the top of the stairs and Julian was holding out his hand to her. She went to him, trusting her heart and her life into his hands just as she had done all those years before in the crypt.

He enfolded her in his arms, slipping them around her waist from behind. His body was already burning with fever, so hot she feared
they might both go up in flames. He inclined his head, the very tips of his fangs grazing the softness of her throat.

“I’m prepared to carry out my end of the bargain,” he informed Valentine, his voice a smoky growl in Portia’s ear. “I expect you to do the same.”

She blew out a beleaguered sigh. “If you insist.” She surveyed the men watching helplessly from the ballroom floor below. Her gaze finally settled on Wilbury. “Send the old man.”

With more haste than Portia would have thought possible, Wilbury leapt over Cuthbert’s prostrate form and came dashing up the stairs. Before Valentine could even retrieve her sapphire necklace from the child’s clutches, he had snatched Eloisa out of her arms and gone scampering back down the steps.

Adrian was waiting at the foot of the stairs to gather his daughter into his arms. She roused just long enough to give him a drowsy smile before resting her head on his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his lips in her tousled curls for a long moment before raising his anguished gaze to Portia.

She smiled down at him through her tears,
wishing he could know what was in her heart at that moment.

Then Julian’s implacable hand was urging her head to the side, giving him unfettered access to the vulnerable curve of her throat. As his fangs descended, Valentine devoured them both with her gaze, her own fangs sharp and bright against her blood red lips, her fingers curled into talons.

Portia closed her eyes, praying that her faith had not been misplaced. Just as his fangs were on the verge of piercing her skin, Julian abruptly lifted his head to look at Valentine. “Why don’t you do it?”

“Really?” Her eyes glowing with delight, she clapped her bejeweled hands. “I thought you didn’t like to share.”

“For you, I’m willing to make an exception. Here. She’s all yours.” He shoved her into Valentine’s arms just as Duvalier had once shoved her into his own arms.

Valentine seized her, her hands brutal where Julian’s had been achingly tender. Grabbing a handful of the hair tied at the nape of her neck, she yanked Portia’s head to the side, so intent upon devouring her prey that she never even saw Julian slip around behind her.

One second Valentine was hissing in Portia’s ear, the next she was letting out a furious wail as Julian’s fangs sank deep into her own throat. Her limbs went rigid, sending Portia sprawling to her knees on the slick marble.

As Julian truly unleashed the beast within him for both the first and last time, Portia wanted to hide her face in her hands, but all she could do was gape in astonishment. His wrath was majestic, his power of destruction both terrible and irresistible. There wasn’t even a trace of passion or desire in the act, only savagery and violence. He sucked what had passed for life right out of Valentine, seeking his own soul with a ravenous hunger that would no longer be denied.