Chapter 18 #2
Chas nodded. Sonia had described the vision as Narcise, whom she’d met previously in the carriage, peering out from behind a fan. The ivory spindles were half-spread, covering the bottom of her chin and part of one cheek. Was the fact that her face was partially hidden somehow meaningful?
“How can that be? What does that mean?” Narcise said, but even as she spoke, he watched her face change into one of contemplation and consideration…which was just what he’d feared.
It would be just like his beautiful, brave Narcise to rush off to Paris and use herself to get to Cezar. He’d intended to get her settled safely somewhere and then go back to France himself and put an end to Cezar Moldavi.
And then he’d come back to Narcise and they’d find a way to be together.
For, now that Chas had gotten the news about Dimitri’s great change, even more hope stirred inside him.
Just three days ago, while he and Narcise were still traveling back from Scotland, Dimitri had gone through some great ordeal to save Maia’s life…
and now he, too, had miraculously broken Lucifer’s hold on him.
Whether it was because he’d finally learned how to do it through his studies, or for some other reason, Chas wasn’t certain.
But the truth was, Dimitri had become mortal once again—his Mark from Lucifer had disappeared.
And the angry, austere earl had actually been seen to be smiling.
Just then, the door flew open to emit Rubey, who had no qualms about bursting into any chamber of her establishment without knocking. “Aye, I thought I heard you return. Dimitri is here,” she said to Chas. “He insists upon speaking with you immediately, Chas. Voss is here as well.”
He rose, at once concerned and relieved by the interruption.
“With your permission, Narcise.” He glanced at her and was rewarded with cool look that told him she wasn’t finished with her pique. Ah, well, women were always annoyed about something. At least his sisters always were. He gave a proper bow and followed Rubey from the chamber.
One thing was certain. Chas wasn’t going to tell Narcise—or anyone, especially Rubey—what else Sonia had seen…when he gave her a handkerchief belonging to Giordan Cale.
According to Sonia, Cale’s greatest fear was Narcise. Dead.
* * *
Narcise stared after them as the door closed, suddenly furious and bereft at the same time.
The moment Rubey rushed in, she’d smelled him: smart, masculine, familiar. Giordan. On her.
Her throat seized up, tight and scratchy, and she’d hardly heard the ensuing conversation, for her entire body was swimming in disbelief and anger.
Narcise’s vision darkened with shadowy, red edges.
By Fate, Giordan must have fairly run to have made his way back here to Rubey first, and without Narcise seeing him.
He’d gone directly from Narcise to Rubey.
From kissing Narcise, devouring her, filling his hands with her…to Rubey. The whoremistress.
Rage flushed through her, and for the first time in weeks, her Mark eased into painlessness. Narcise closed her eyes and fed it, submerged herself in the darkness of anger.
And then, just as quickly as it had come, the fury eased into something more devastating. Pain.
I loved you.
Had he really? She scoffed to herself, tried to push away the memory of his face…tonight and on that horrible day when he’d come to her afterward. Smelling of Cezar.
The starkness in his eyes had been the same then as it had tonight: deep and complete. Raw.
Do you have any idea what I’ve done for you?
Narcise rose abruptly and began to pace the chamber, propelled by fear and hurt. If he’d loved her, why, why, had he done what he’d done? How could he?
How could he have imagined she’d accept him after he’d betrayed her? Any betrayal would have killed her, after what she’d experienced…but for it to be with a man…and her brother…how? How could he have thought she’d forget that?
Was it just his Draculean nature? To seek pleasure wherever it was offered? To focus on self, and only self?
Of course it was.
She couldn’t stay here any longer. She had to have air—clean air, not breaths tainted by his scent. She wanted to be back out beneath the open sky, the stars and clouded moon. She wanted to feel that power again, that confidence and worth of self from earlier tonight, before Giordan had ruined it.
Dismissing her disheveled and dirty clothing, she strode quickly and silently to the chamber door and peered out into the corridor.
It was empty, and she slipped out for the second time that night, closing the door behind her and walking down the hall toward what she recalled was the front entrance.
Giordan’s essence lingered, along with that of Chas and Dimitri and even Voss, she thought, but she ignored it and kept walking.
Chas would worry, but he’d have to learn that she could take care of herself. And she was furious with him as well, for lying to her. Keeping information from her.
Trying to protect her.
She was Cezar’s greatest fear? How had she never known that?
What could that mean?
Sonia Woodmore had to be mistaken. Her Sight had to be wrong.
How could Cezar fear her when he’d had her under his control all of the time?
Narcise was just passing the door to some parlor or chamber when she heard Chas’s voice. “Of course we’re not going to tell Narcise. She might agree to it.”
She froze.
“Do you think that’s wise?” replied a mellow voice that she was certain belonged to Voss. “Perhaps she—”
“You aren’t going to tell me what?” she demanded, flinging the door open. “Did you not learn anything?” she added, her voice cold as she stared at Chas.
Of the five people in the room, four faces had turned to her, and she realized with a horrid start that the fifth person was not staring at her at all because it was Giordan. He was looking down, even as the rest of the occupants of the room stared in chagrin.
And she dared not look at him, not when she knew where he’d been and what he’d been doing…not when his bloodscent lingered in the air. Not when her mouth watered at the aroma of it, and when she remembered the feel of his body against hers…only hours ago.
Instead, she focused on Chas, whose countenance had gone tight with dismay. He rose from his seat. “Come in Narcise. Apparently you are going to be told the news.”
Aside from Chas and Giordan, Dimitri was in the chamber, of course, as well as Voss. And, to Narcise’s mild surprise, Maia Woodmore was there as well, sitting next to Dimitri on a sofa. Much closer than was proper for a ward to be sitting next to her guardian.
Unlike her younger sister Angelica’s had been when they met in Dimitri’s study some months ago, Maia’s expression when she looked at Narcise was not one of accusation nor of distaste. It was only mildly curious and laced with concern.
“And so all of you are discussing me, and I’m not invited to the conversation?” Narcise said, looking for a safe place to sit. Chas gestured to the chair he’d just vacated, but she ignored him.
Giordan was in a different seat off to the right, and Voss was in a chair next to Dimitri. There was a space on the sofa next to Maia, and that was where Narcise went. She sat, her back rigid as she tried to keep her thoughts from colliding with each other and her mind clear.
“We’ve received a message from your brother,” said Dimitri. “I thought it best if we informed Chas immediately.”
“I said you should be told,” Maia said to Narcise. “I would want to know if my brother was doing something like this.” She slanted a sidewise glance at Chas and gave a little sniff.
“Maia,” Dimitri said, giving her a mildly exasperated look—mild for him, anyway—and said to Narcise, “The message arrived at Blackmont Hall earlier today via blood pigeon.”
Taking care not to glance at Giordan, who sat just beyond Dimitri, Narcise turned her full attention to the formidable earl.
But out of the corner of her eye, she saw the blood staining Giordan’s white shirt, and the elegant shape of his wrist, settled casually on the arm of his chair.
“Are you going to tell me what the message contained?”
“Napoleon Bonaparte is going to invade England in three days,” he replied with characteristic bluntness. “And your brother promises to send his own army of made vampires with the emperor’s mortal soldiers, to wreak havoc on this country.”
“He said they’d find the children,” Maia Woodmore said, her delicate face grave. “And take them.”
“Maia,” Dimitri snapped. “Blast it, I should have left you home.”
“Then I would have just found the way on my own, Gavril,” she replied. “At least we only needed one carriage this way.”
“You promised you wouldn’t interfere,” Dimitri said from between clenched teeth.
“I did nothing of the sort. You demanded I promise that, but I certainly didn’t. If I weren’t here, none of you would tell Narcise the whole of it,” the woman returned. “How can she make a decision without knowing all of it?”
“A decision?” said Narcise. “What sort of decision?” Her heart was pounding now and she felt an unpleasant twisting in her middle.
“About whether you’ll go back to him,” said Giordan, breaking his silence.
Quiet descended over the chamber.
“Narcise,” Chas said after a moment. “You can understand why we thought not to tell you.”
“No,” she replied through stiff lips. Giordan had shifted in his chair, and now he was looking at Chas. “No, I do not. What did you intend to do about it, since you didn’t plan to tell me?”
“That’s what we were discussing when you made that most dramatic entrance,” replied Voss with a lazy smile. “I know Cezar well enough, but since you know him best of all, perhaps you might have a suggestion. He promises to call off the emperor’s invasion if you return to him.”