“Back so soon, Lerina?” Corvindale said. His voice was calm and cold, but Maia, who was held in place behind him, felt the tension rippling through his muscles.

The broken chair next to their feet reminded her of the stake that she’d dropped when she found Corvindale, along with the metal poker, which, of course, would be of little use now. She needed a weapon of her own, but knew better than to dodge down and snatch one up, distracting the man in front of her.

Mrs. Throckmullins—or Lerina, for, apparently, they knew each other—was speechless with fury. But Maia noticed that she wore several ruby rings, and that more hairpins glinted like blood in her dark hair. She felt the shimmering in Corvindale’s body as their effect slowed him. And she was not certain how much feeding from her had restored him.

And then behind Lerina emerged another figure with burning red eyes and fangs, pushing past her into the room.

“I don’t think I’m quite ready for you to leave yet, Dimitri darling,” Lerina said. “Especially until you properly introduce me to your companion.”

The tone in her voice, the way her eyes settled on Corvindale with a mixture of heat and fury, told Maia all she needed to know about their relationship. And who had put the marks on the earl’s shoulders and arm.

Maia eased away from Corvindale, despite his blind attempt to keep her in place while watching the two at the door. She kept a hand on his back so that he knew where she was, and, using him as a shield to block her movements from sight, crouched slowly to the floor.

“I believe you two have already met,” he replied to Lerina.

As Maia picked up a piece of wood, the second vampire edged into the room and started to move along the perimeter. Corvindale tensed and shifted his body so that he could watch both Lerina and the man as they separated. Maia stood, and he immediately curved his hand around to hold her behind him, giving her a hard, angry squeeze that clearly said, “Don’t move.”

A noise behind them had Maia spinning to see a third vampire, climbing through the window.

He was holding a glittering red necklace.

Maia felt Corvindale’s involuntary shudder and she thought if there was ever a time for a lady to curse, this would be it.

In lieu of that, she realized whatever she did now would have to be careful and smart. The earl didn’t think she was capable of thinking for herself, obviously, but she hadn’t escaped from her chains and saved him by being a dunderhead.

Any further thoughts were interrupted by Lerina, as she made a sudden, furious sound that was almost like a shout.

She was staring at Maia, her eyes narrowed.

“You,” she said, and at first Maia thought she’d suddenly and unaccountably recognized her. But that was ridiculous—of course she’d recognized her—and that thought was dismissed as Lerina continued, now speaking to Corvindale in a voice that sounded both happy and taunting at the same time. “I see that you’ve been busy, Dimitri.”

Her eyes turned back to focus on Maia, and they were evil. Their very weight seemed to make the blood course in her veins, and her bites throb as if responding to some siren’s call. Maia gripped the wooden stick, trying to keep it hidden within the folds of her skirt, trying to keep her mind clear in the face of such animosity, and realized that the vampire was attempting to enthrall her. And if the shimmer in her vision was any indication, Lerina was succeeding.

As if realizing this, Corvindale moved abruptly, shifting so that he blocked their connection and severed the thrall. Maia touched him briefly in gratitude and realized she mustn’t make eye contact with any of the Dracule. At least, the ones who meant her harm.

The third vampire with the rubies had moved some distance from the window while the second one had continued to edge farther from Lerina. It was clear Lerina meant to distract her opponent while setting up her mode of attack.

Now, the three vampires were spread out at the edge of the room, leaving Maia and Corvindale in the middle.

The earl continued to scan back and forth between the three, and Maia felt him easing her back as if trying to get to the wall where at least one side would be protected. He made no bones about hiding his stake, and despite the presence of the rubies, his muscles bunched and his breathing seemed relatively steady.

“You left me no choice, Lerina,” he replied coolly.

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked, but her hands fluttered, belying her innocence. “Unless I’m mistaken, the last time you deigned to feed on a mortal, it was me. I hate to think that I’d ruined you for a century, darling.”

Corvindale gave a disgusted snort. “As you wish. But, I confess, in a hundred years, I’ve met no one like you.”

The other woman seemed oblivious to the sarcasm in his voice; or perhaps she was just used to it. “We could share, Dimitri, and then we wouldn’t have to go through all of this mess. She does seem rather lovely. She’s light and I’m dark…wouldn’t we make a pretty picture? Together? We don’t have to send her on to Cezar. I’ll just tell him she…didn’t make it and he can find another way to get to Chas Woodmore.”

Lerina smiled and her fangs showed, long and wicked. She looked over at the vampire with the necklace. He’d moved farther from the window.

“What do you suggest?” Corvindale replied, his stake arm relaxing. He sounded almost inviting.

Suddenly the vampire who’d been at the window raised his arm and slung the necklace through the air toward Lerina. Corvindale reacted instantly, and, with a groan of exertion in a great moment of pain, raised his stake to intercept the jewels midair. They caught on the wooden spike and in a sharp movement, he whipped them to the ground.

Maia didn’t hesitate. She dropped to the floor and snatched them up, staggering a bit with the unexpected activity. Better that they were in her hands than their enemies’. But then, before anyone could react, she ran a few steps toward the window and winged the necklace toward the opening.

The vampire near it leaped but missed, and the lethal gems sparkled as they tumbled into the moonlit night.

Lerina gave a muffled shriek of anger just as the nearest vampire lunged for Maia. She tried to spin away, still gripping her stake, but he was fast as a breath and he caught her by the arm. His yank was hard enough that she fairly flew through the air, slamming up against him. She flailed out with her stake, stabbing as Iliana had taught her to do; but she was no match for the vampire and couldn’t get him in the right place.

He laughed and shifted, twisting her around roughly, grabbing up a handful of her hair and baring her neck. He spoke for the first time. “Did you say something about sharing, mistress?”

Maia swallowed and risked a glance at Corvindale, expecting to see him apprehensive—or at least furious—but he wasn’t even looking at her. He was watching Lerina, whose eyes had turned red and whose fangs were showing once again.

“Lovely thought,” Lerina said.

Maia’s heart was pounding and she couldn’t get a good angle with her stake, which had been immobilized by the vampire holding her anyway. Then, everything happened at once…but it was as if the world slowed, underwater, and the events unfolded like a bolt of cloth.

As Corvindale turned, he made a sharp movement. Something spun madly through the air and slammed into the torso of Maia’s captor. A stake. The vampire cried out and released her, tumbling to the floor, but by that time, Corvindale was there, slinging Maia up around the waist. She lost her breath and before she caught it again, he’d lunged toward the window. He caught the edge with his hand and pivoted them through the opening.

She heard someone scream as they went out, weightless, into the night, nothing but air around them.

15

AN INTERMINABLE CARRIAGE RIDE AND A PREEMPTIVE APOLOGY

“Do stop screaming,” Dimitri said, his ears ringing, his feet flat on the ground. He hadn’t even staggered when he landed. He adjusted his hold on the squirming woman in his arms, for now that they were on the ground safely, she was bound and determined to get free.

“You’re mad,” she was gasping. “Mad!”

This was no time to talk; Lerina and her make would be out and after them in a moment—either through the window or down the stairs. And though Dimitri had man aged a perfectly executed escape, he was still more than a bit wobbly in the knees and trembly in the muscles. Yet, the rush of energy from real, fresh, human blood had restored him more quickly than he’d thought possible.

But he wasn’t going to think about the consequences of that now.

Definitely not now. Much, much later.

Perhaps even never.

Ignoring Maia’s contortions, Dimitri ducked into shadows and dodged around the close-knit warehouses. They were, as he’d surmised, near the wharf, and even at this time of night, sailors were unloading and loading cargo, drinking, gaming and whoring. An easy environment in which to get lost.

If someone would keep her mouth closed.

“Hush, blasted woman,” he ordered. “They’ll hear you.” The last thing he wanted was to attract attention from anyone at the wharf and have to deal with that delay, as well.

It wasn’t until he flagged down a hack and she disappeared within, disdaining his assistance, that Dimitri was able to take a deep breath. And suddenly everything halted.

The driver waited for him to climb in, his hand on the door, an impatient look on his face. Certainly Dimitri knew he looked beyond disreputable, with blood streaking him every where, and what had been left of his shirt lost somewhere along the way.

But he was Corvindale, and he wasn’t about to be rushed into anything, particularly by the likes of a hackney driver. He glanced into the shadows of the carriage, easily able to make out Maia’s figure even in the dark. The prickling over the back of his shoulders and the upheaval in his gut bordered on unpleasant.

If he climbed into that carriage with her, he knew what was going to happen.

“My lord,” the hack driver said, allowing the barest hint of impatience in his voice as he looked around. “Shall I—er—transport the lady, and return for you?”