Chapter 57
Chapter Fifty-Seven
I sat opposite Jacob, with the inlaid chess table between us.
Even after a month, I still reveled in his company.
Jacob peered over the ivory carved pieces and then slid his bishop forward. I raised an eyebrow and he beamed at me. Staring down, considering my next move, I allowed myself to smile, but it wasn’t because I was letting him win.
It had all been worth it – every second of scouring the city, sacrificing my needs for his, spending years watching and waiting for the moment when we’d be reunited.
Jacob was perfect in every way. I savored being near him.
He’d inherited my bone structure, but he also had his mother’s eyes, her dark olive skin.
Faint laughter lines gave away his penchant for smiling.
He’d drawn on his faith to cope with all that he’d seen in his young life.
Chess was not the only game being played here. My gestures were slow and deliberate, as I advanced a pawn.
I hadn’t found the right moment to show Jacob the private study I’d designed for him, anxious not to overwhelm him.
More serious than that, the matter of my immortality had yet to be discussed.
I feared more than just losing a son’s love.
Our rekindled relationship had breathed new life into Belshazzar’s, and this sprawling manor no longer seemed lonely – it had become a home because of him.
Jacob positioned his knight, taking a pawn and threatening my bishop.
“Do you remember how to ride?” I asked.
“I remember you forcing me to get on one of those huge horses. I was terrified.”
“You had the time of your life.”
“Is that how you saw it?”
“You never complained.”
“Too scared to talk, no doubt.” He pulled a face.
“Your brother loved to ride.” As the words faded, I sucked in air. The pain of losing him had been unbearable, and until now I’d pushed away all thoughts of my child’s death. Jacob’s presence had brought great joy, but it also stirred up memories that I’d once suppressed.
Jacob met my gaze. “Tell me about him.”
“Eduardo? He was a headstrong boy.” My smile quickly faded. “He died before you learned to walk.”
“Did we look alike?”
I nodded. “Do you remember running away?”
“I ran away?”
“Well, you ran out of your Aunt Alicia’s house and hid in the barn.”
“Why?”
“Can’t even remember now. I found you asleep in one of the stalls.”
“How long did you search for me?”
“Hours.” A wave of melancholy washed over me. The story of losing him had been repeated on a grander scale.
“I’m sorry I caused you so much grief,” Jacob said.
“You brought us nothing but joy.” I paused and smiled. “Still do.”
Jacob’s eyes crinkled into a smile and he sat back. “You still haven’t introduced me to your house guests.”
“Marcus is looking forward to meeting you.”
Much to my relief, Marcus had seen the wisdom of keeping Rachel and Jacob apart. She’d been forbidden to play her violin.
“Tomorrow night, I have to visit an old acquaintance,” I said.
“May I come with you?”
“It’s rather a delicate matter. I’m severing ties with an old fraternity.” I picked up one of my knights and feigned interest in moving the piece. “Their purpose is obsolete.”
The following night, I replayed the evening spent with Jacob with my heart full of gratitude. Time with him was the only thing that soothed my soul.
I donned a disguise.
With a gentleman’s attire consisting of a hat, a well-tailored suit, and my finest long, black jacket, I conveyed an air of confidence as I strolled along. I wore tinted, horn-rimmed glasses to obscure my eyes.
During the short time in Archer’s study, I’d rummaged through his papers, leaving the notebook in his wall safe so that it appeared undisturbed.
And yet I’d studied the contents, reading the accountant’s notations, revealing how they spent their money, and discovering the locations where the Stone Masters liked to stay.
The Manor Grand, famous for being one of London’s better hotels, provided a discreet meeting place for lawyers, businessmen, and politicians alike. It was popular amongst those who desired to stay in the heart of the city.
Just inside the lobby, an elderly night porter snoozed in his high-backed chair. Reading upside down, I checked the guest book. Archer had signed in under the name of Salisbury. Had we been better acquainted, I’d have offered advice on keeping a low profile.
Taking three steps at a time, I made my way up to the third floor. Strolling along the corridor, I wondered how many of the other rooms had been taken by Archer’s men.
Listening at the door, checking for the presence of Archer, I made sure the room was empty.
Upon the bed rested a well-traveled suitcase, already packed.
This didn’t appear to be one of the hotel’s better suites.
With its virtually bare décor and poor view, it reflected how business took precedence over luxury.
Against the left wall was a desk, upon which rested a letter that Archer had begun writing.
He must have become distracted, leaving the missive unfinished. Within the hearth were dying embers.
The sound of creaking floorboards out in the corridor gave away the person who was fast approaching.
The door opened and my gaze connected with a well-dressed, burly looking, bearded man. He went for me and I stepped back, ready for the second punch he threw. I dodged the strike and my spectacles fell off.
“I have an appointment with Lord Archer.” I tipped my hat.
He picked up my glasses.
“I’m completely blind without them.” I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and thrust him back, cracking his head against the brick. I could smell his fear.
Archer glared at me from the doorway. I let go of the man, tilted my head, and gave him a roguish smile. Archer gestured for his colleague to leave.
The bearded man was clearly shaken. “Sir, I’m not leaving you alone with it.” He rubbed the back of his head.
Archer patted his friend’s arm. “Five minutes.”
“I’ll come back with the others.” He handed Archer the spectacles and left.
“He referred to me as an ‘it’” I tut-tutted. “Most rude.”
“My men are well trained.”
I reached for my glasses. “It’s good to see you.”
“Wish I could say the same.” He ignored my out-stretched hand and dropped my glasses. “This disguise doesn’t work.”
“Good thing I’m not easily offended.”
He approached the writing desk and peeked at the letter, checking to see that he hadn’t left anything important out.
My mind raced with the idea that he might want to kill me. “1212, a good year for the Stone Masters?”
He turned to me with a raised eyebrow. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”
“The fire wiped out one-fifth of the city’s population.”
Archer strolled over to the window. “I may have misjudged you.”
“Oh, you definitely have.” I joined him and stared out at the bleak view. “I’m the son you never had.”
Archer glared at me. “Careful.”
“I intrigue you. My world offers mysteries that yours lacks, a freedom from the weight on your shoulders that’s so heavy, you find yourself daydreaming about alternatives.”
“You obviously have a death wish.”
I gave him a smile. “I find myself rather enamored with you. The feeling is of course mutual.”
“My men are outside waiting for my order.” Archer stared at me.
I picked up my bent spectacles. “Yet your thoughts say otherwise.”
I beamed at him, and he sighed in response, running his long fingers through his silvery-grey locks.
“What part did the Stone Masters play in the massacre?” I asked.
Archer’s expression changed.
“Your predecessors started the fire, didn’t they?” I asked. “They believed the fire would destroy disease-ridden London.”
“People were convinced that it was the cats and dogs in the city that were spreading the sickness. They slaughtered them immediately.” Archer’s voice was grim. “But it was rats carrying the virus. They’d wiped out their natural enemy. Disease became rampant.”
“Too young to be trusted with the entire truth?” I shook my head. “Not yet initiated into the old boys’ club?”
“The disease spread at an alarming rate, and yet your kind was unaffected.”
“That’s how they justified it?” I asked. “What is the age that a son is initiated into your order?”
Archer clinched his fists.
“Do you remember that first taste?”
Our gazes locked. There came a knock at the door, and then it opened.
“I’m all right.” Archer raised his hand insistently.
The door closed slowly.
He turned to me again. “What do you know?”
“That you’re planning on repeating history.”
“Who told you this?” His right eye twitched.
I remembered Felipe’s eyelid twitching like that. His expression had been still, like Archer’s, but his fear had shown in that reflex.
Archer reached inside his inner jacket pocket for the wooden stake he had hidden there.
“Now that’s impolite.” I raised an eyebrow.
Archer withdrew his empty hand and glanced at the door.
“You will not start this fire,” I said.
“London is overridden with rodents, and the disease continues to spread.”
“Again, you use this excuse to take more lives?”
“We will extinguish the disease.”
“Thousands of innocents will die.”
Archer grabbed my shirt. “And your kind will die with them.” He let go and wiped off the droplets of sweat from his upper lip.
My stare lingered on his mouth, and then rose to his deep, brown irises.
He turned away. “No.” His breathing increased, his chest rising and falling, and he gazed at me with those soulful eyes, seemingly affected by that familiar pull, the promise of what my blood bestowed. His lips formed words, but he didn’t speak them.
Archer’s grip on his desires weakened, and I sensed him yielding. If I had wanted to, I could have seduced him merely with the power of my presence, entrancing him to the point of bondage.
And he knew it.
Retracting my supernatural hold, I gave Archer’s arm a squeeze. He straightened up and tried to conceal his arousal.
I rested my hand on his shoulder. “London must be rescued. This is wrong.”
“Wrong, like taking a life night after night. Wrong, like saving thousands of lives by sacrificing a few. Immortality has affected your brain.”
“So I take it there’s no invitation into the old boys’ club?” I handed him back the wooden stake that I’d just picked from his pocket.
“All your exits are blocked.” Archer clutched the end of the stake. His knuckles were white.
“You personally plan on starting another fire, don’t you?”
Archer’s face flushed with misery.
“No one would suspect.” I sighed.
“You once asked me about my father.”
I gave a nod.
“He inspired me,” he whispered, staring out the window. “He served the cause. Gave his life for it.”
“What happened to him?”
He tried to close his mind.
I rifled through his thoughts. “You won’t neglect your own son.”
Archer looked dazed. “I can’t let you go this time.”
“Do this thing and you’ll bring down the wrath of our kind on your family.”
“Perhaps if you agree to share your knowledge, they won’t torture you.”
I gave him an incredulous smile.
“You are a vampire, after all.” Archer pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his brow. “The chess piece that you gave me, the rook, it has a meaning?”
I studied my broken spectacles, symbolic perhaps for everything that I touched, though here, now, I would do something good. My desire to save London was evidence that I still had the ability to care.
Archer was staring at me.
“You’ll make a fine father to your son,” I said, holding his gaze. “Don’t do this thing.”
He let out a long sigh. “I’ll make sure that your death is quick.”
Archer turned away in response to the insistent rapping on the door. By the time the echo of the knock had faded, I was gone.