Chapter Seventeen #2
Neither of the women was the one she was looking for, but she couldn’t tear her gaze from their exposed bodies. How would it feel to have Jonathan copy the movements of the man in the room? Something warm dripped down her leg.
“I smell blood,” Jonathan whispered.
“It’s nothing,” she said, even as her scratch burned. But as she moved her hand to steady herself, her fingers landed on Jonathan’s crotch. The moment she felt the stiffness beneath his trousers, she froze.
He was as aroused as she was.
“Move your hand,” he whispered.
“I—I apologize.” She whipped her arm up and whacked her elbow against the wall.
The noises coming from the other side of the wall quieted.
“What was that?” a woman inside the room asked.
Felicity froze.
There was a shuffling, a loud sniff, and then the woman spoke again. “I smell blood, and not from you, Mr. Gallaway.”
Felicity’s wound felt like it was on fire. She met Jonathan’s penetrating gaze and whispered, “I-I scraped my thigh.”
His irises swirled with blue. “Squeeze my shoulder if you want me to stop.”
Then he dropped to his knees and squirmed between her legs. He hardly made a sound, while she had to hold her breath to keep from screeching when his freezing fingers tugged her trousers down.
That was only the beginning, though, as the next thing she felt was his tongue sliding along her skin.
Her knees wobbled, and her heart pounded in her chest. He was licking the blood from her thigh.
She pressed her hands against the wall and concentrated on remaining silent.
It was tremendously difficult because each rasp of his tongue sent tingling sensations through her core.
As he got closer to her quim, she almost wished her monthlies had started so that he’d have a reason to put his mouth on the part of her that ached more fiercely than her scratch.
She squeezed her eyes shut. He was a vampire. She should not have longed for his touch. Yet she could not help imagining him gently spreading her nether lips apart and penetrating her with his long—
“You’re wasting time, Daliah,” Mr. Gallaway said. “Come back here and let me taste that fancy bit of yours.”
Jonathan restored her trousers to their previous state, wiped the blood from his cheek, then gestured at the peephole.
She obligingly checked, then had to choke back a squeak when a bare arse appeared in front of her. Thankfully, the woman possessing the impressive rear didn’t seem to hear and soon rejoined the vigorous activity that had resumed atop the bed.
When Felicity was confident that the trio was sufficiently distracted, she scurried along the corridor. Her abdomen still throbbed from Jonathan’s ministrations. Even the slight friction of corduroy between her legs made her shiver.
She reached the next set of holes and peered through, but the room was empty.
She was about to move on, if only to create more distance between her and Jonathan, when she noticed something that made her blood go cold.
Hanging on the walls were walking sticks, swords, and canes, including the one she remembered from the night of her parents’ murder.
It was exactly the same, down to the chip in the golden dog’s ear.
“What is it?” Jonathan asked.
She ran her fingertips over the wall, searching for a knob or lever. “How do we get out?”
“Let me,” Jonathan said. He squeezed past her and slid his fingers into an indent she hadn’t noticed.
The wall slid open, and she stepped through.
After the stifling warmth of the corridor, it was a relief to be in an open space.
She snatched the cane from the wall and ran her thumb over the broken dog’s ear.
It was the same cane. She was sure of it.
She grasped the hilt properly and started to twist it to release the dagger, when there was a loud thump from the hallway.
“There’s someone coming,” Jonathan whispered. “Get back here!”
Too late.
The door creaked open, and a slender, black-haired woman wearing a low-cut, shimmering, scarlet gown entered.
“Ah, I thought I’d scented a bloodsucker.
” She ran the tip of her middle finger along the edge of her bodice and uttered a rumbling sound that was halfway between a growl and a laugh. “Have you two been making trouble?”
Felicity could not tear her gaze away from the bones shifting beneath the woman’s face. She was neither human nor vampire.
“Keep your mouth shut,” Jonathan whispered.
He stepped between Felicity and the strange woman.
“I sincerely apologize for the intrusion, Madame Pearce. My companion and I were merely availing ourselves of the…” He trailed off as a trio of men appeared in the doorway behind the woman.
They were so tall, they had to dip their shaved heads beneath the doorframe to enter and wore mismatched suit jackets covered in roughly stitched seams, as if they’d been repeatedly torn apart and repaired.
Felicity clutched the cane like a weapon. No matter how this confrontation ended, she could not leave without the only clue she had to the identity of her parents’ killer.
The tallest of the men took a position beside the mistress of the establishment, while the others braced the door with their arms stiff at their sides, like shabbily dressed royal guards.
Madame Pearce clucked her tongue. “Excellent timing, as always, Blaze. What do you suggest we do with our little thieves?”
Felicity tucked the cane behind her back, even though the woman had obviously already gleaned Felicity’s intention.
Blaze grunted. “Teach ’em a lesson.”
Jonathan cleared his throat. “My dear Madame Pearce, there is no need for violence. I am sure we can come to an agreement.” He reached into his coat. “I am prepared to offer a generous donation if you forget this incident. Perhaps twenty pounds?”
Madame Pearce raised her eyebrows.
Jonathan gulped. “Thirty?”
Blaze unbuttoned his jacket, removed it, and handed it to another of the guards.
Was it Felicity’s imagination or had their nails lengthened?
She tucked herself as closely as she could to Jonathan’s back.
“Dispose of this rubbish, Blaze,” Madame Pearce said.
The three men dropped to their hands and knees and began to change.