Chapter 2

 

Terror shot down Emma’s spine. The vampire had spotted her. Seeking aid from any quarter, Emma rushed to the side of a childhood friend and distant cousin, Will Cavanaugh, and linked her arm through his.

“Will,” she said too brightly. “How lovely to see you.”

Will raised a brow as he turned from the gentleman with whom he’d been conversing. His mouth quirked in amused confusion, and she could just hear him calling her a brazen hussy for approaching a man so boldly, even such an old friend. Then he sobered as he must have spotted the panic in her eyes.

After excusing himself from the gentleman, Will took her by the elbow and guided her a little way off.

She glanced back. Bennett Ashton had stopped his approach, and appeared to be admiring a mural on the wall. He glanced her way, his dark gaze colliding with her. Tension rolled off his body in tangible waves. He was waiting for her. To get her alone. To drink her blood and kill her. He must know she’d learned his secret and had decided to silence her.

Or had he merely hoped to use their history to lure her into being alone with him so he could attack her and drink her blood?

“Emma?” Will’s voice commanded her attention. “Pray, what is it?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said with an edge of hysteria to her voice, “I just don’t wish to dance with someone, yet I don’t dare refuse.”

Will chuckled. “Not unless you’re willing to give up dancing for the entire evening.” He gestured to the dance floor. “They’re lining up for the next set. Care to stand up with me?”

“Yes!” After another furious glance backward at the creature who stood with his arms folded and a darkly speculative edge to his expression, she lined up with the other dancers and faced Will.

“Bennett Ashton is who you’re avoiding?” Will sounded incredulous.

She nodded once.

“Are you mad? All the other ladies, single or not, are fawning all over him.”

“Well they shouldn’t be.”

“And I thought you and he…”

“No!”

Will’s eyes narrowed. “What’s amiss?”

The musicians struck up a lively country dance. At the last second, Mr. Ashton and some hapless girl who didn’t know how dangerous he was fell in line. The hapless girl looked utterly enthralled with Bennett, and Emma gritted her teeth. Bennett’s vampire powers had clearly augmented his charm. He wasn’t such a society darling before he left for the war.

Of course he was younger then, and not quite so tall or broad of shoulder. And that smoldering look in his eyes was new, as was his new aura of authority. Still, that didn’t explain everyone’s fascination. If the legends were true, vampires were highly sensual creatures and had almost irresistible allure; it probably helped draw his victims to him so they wouldn’t resist when he preyed on them.

As Emma and Will worked through the dance sequence, Emma found herself temporarily partnered with Bennett Ashton. Cold sweat trickled down the side of her face.

“Good evening, Miss Hollingsworth,” his voice rumbled.

“Good evening,” she managed.

When had she become Miss Hollingsworth to him? He’d called her his little Emma for so long, even in his letters. She stole a glance at him, avoiding his hypnotic eyes, which, unfortunately, placed her focus on his mouth. She’d almost forgotten the shape of his lips, how well-formed they were, perfectly formed for kissing.

He spun her around, each movement as fluid as water, and then she returned to Will. The pattern repeated and she partnered again with Bennett.

“Is there any particular reason why you’re avoiding me, Emma?”

There. He said her name. That was much better.

No, not better. The reminder of all she once had and now lost sent a searing pain through her heart.

Wait, did she detect amusement in his voice? Or irritation? She stole another glance at him. His lips curved upward slightly revealing straight, white teeth. No fangs, but perhaps those appeared when he was about to feed, like a snake’s venomous fangs.

“I’m not avoiding you,” she squeaked, looking anxiously back over her shoulder for Will.

They completed the turn and she danced back to Will. As she moved on down the line, changing partners and spinning, Bennett’s stare pulled at her, and she looked back. Again, his dark gaze fixed on her. Her heart flipped over and she missed a step. She looked up at her current partner as if he were the only person in the room.

“Good evening,” she practically shouted.

“Miss Hollingsworth.” The man inclined his head, staring curiously at her.

She circled back to Will, and they danced their way to the end of the line where they waited until the pattern would draw them in and back up the line again. Breathless from the fast dance, she fanned herself.

Will leaned closer. “Has he offended you in some way?”

She snapped her gaze to him. “Who?”

“Ashton. You act as if you expect him to draw a sword and start killing people.”

She tried to laugh lightly but it came out sounding hysterical. “No, of course not. And no, he hasn’t offended me. We’ve barely spoken. In fact, I hardly know him. He’s very different now than he was before he left.”

“Not so different. Just more sober. Are you sure he hasn’t done something to offend you?”

“No, no.” But she’d have to explain her odd behavior. “To tell you the truth, he strikes me as odd and a bit dangerous now.”

Will chuckled. “Yes, well, we men rather fancy ourselves as dangerous to women. Although ‘odd’ isn’t exactly a glowing compliment.”

The dance sequence drew them back into the dance and they had no further opportunity to converse. As she progressed up the line, she partnered with Bennett once again. Averting her gaze from his face, she focused on the dance steps and tried to appear calm. Acting strangely would only arouse his suspicions that she knew his secret.

“I don’t recall you being so reticent, Miss Hollingsworth.” His voice slipped over her skin like a caress, fraying her nerves.

Unable to resist, she looked up at him. Her mouth turned to dust. He’d grown devastatingly handsome. His cheekbones and jaw had filled out. The spots that once plagued him as a youth had smoothed over, leaving flawless, creamy skin. She gulped. Not merely creamy—deathly white.

As if he never went out into the sun because it burned him.

As if he were one of the undead.

Her heart thudded against her chest so wildly she wondered if all the dancers could hear it above the din of the ball. Smoothly, he led her through the steps. Since they both wore gloves, she couldn’t determine if his hands were still ice cold, but in light of all the evidence shouting at her, she had little doubt. He was a vampire. And for some reason, he appeared to be interested in her. Had he forgotten what they once meant to each other and had chosen her as his next victim? Or did he plan to make her his eternal, evil mate?

And why didn’t the thought of him drawing her into his arms, whispering into her ear, and then biting her neck, terrify her the way it should? She certainly didn’t want to die. Nor could she bear to become one of the walking dead, attacking people and drinking their blood. The thought sent shivers of revulsion down her spine. Why was she so drawn to him with all she knew about him? Perhaps it was part of his vampire powers of seduction.

Well, she’d just have to resist him. Somehow.

Thankfully, the dance pattern led her down the line to other partners, weaving in and out with them, always returning to partner with Will. She glanced at her old friend. Perhaps she should confide in him. He’d laugh at first, but he’d listen fairly. And he’d know what to do.

The dance set ended. As Will led her off the dance floor, he took her directly to the refreshment table and handed her a glass of lemonade.

“Good exercise that,” Will quipped.

After taking a drink of the cool lemonade, she snapped open her fan and used it to stir the air. “Yes, indeed. It’s warm in here.”

He nodded his head out toward the terrace doors, open to let in the cool night air. “Shall we catch our breath out there?”

Smiling, she took his arm. “Why, Will, you wouldn’t be trying to lure me into a dark garden now, would you?”

“Of course I am. We dangerous males all have such plots in our arsenal. All part of the Byronic image, you know.”

She laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to be plotting against someone you don’t view as a little sister?”

“I daren’t risk some father demanding I marry a girl just because I kissed her.”

“Oh, gracious no. That might be just too gallant.”

Sobering, he raised a brow. “So, what’s this with Ashton?”

“I…” she looked away, unable to tell Will.

He guided her through the crowd toward the open terrace doors. “You’d best be upfront with him, then, because he has his sights set on you.”

Because he still cared, even now? Or because he suspected she knew his secret and had decided to silence her?

She dodged a man who stepped back as he laughed with a group of men. “He’s been gone a long time. I doubt he truly feels anything for me any longer. Four years is a long time. His letters were very proper; we never discussed our feelings.”

“When he first arrived in London, he made a point of asking if you and I had any kind of understanding, and he made it quite clear he expected me to be the gentleman and step aside for him if we did.”

That drew her stare. “He expected you to step aside for him?”

“Most emphatically.”

She tried to smile at the thought forming an attachment with Will, but her heart ached each time she considered what might have been with Bennett. Why would he go through such an elaborate ruse to warn off Will?

She looked up at him. “Did you assure him that your relationship with me is the same comfortable friendship it’s always been?”

“I tried to but he didn’t believe me. I did vow I wouldn’t interfere in any way with his pursuit of you.”

She chuckled. “I’m sure that was a vow easily made.”

Will made no reply. Instead, he turned pensive.

Just before they reached the open doorway, one of his friends called out, “I say, Cavanaugh, I wonder if I might have a word with you?”

Will glanced back at her but she waved him off. “Go on.”

Seeking the cool night air, Emma moved across the terrace toward the gardens illuminated by moonlight and Chinese lanterns. Careful to stay in the patch of light cast by the open doors so she wouldn’t be out of sight and give cause for scandal, she drew in a deep breath. The breeze slipped over her hot skin, cooling her. A night bird trilled and a bird or bat flapped overhead. The stars shone in glorious splendor overhead.

If only she could be blissfully ignorant about Bennett. Discovering that he’d transformed into a creature of pure evil made her want to throw something. Knowing the truth was safer, of course; she could now take steps to avoid becoming a victim, but the truth had shattered all her dreams.

She looked up at the sound of flapping wings. A patch of darkness blotted out the stars, and she ducked slightly as a bat sailed toward her from deeper in the garden, swooped overhead, and flitted off to the right. There were times when she wished she could soar out into the night like that, unfettered by so many social rules. After casting a guilty glace over her shoulder at the ballroom, she stepped out of the light and into the night. A fountain murmured nearby. She sauntered to it, inhaling the scent of jasmine. Moonlight glimmered in the surface of the pool below the water sculpture.

A breeze whispered, stirring the trees. She should have thought to bring a shawl. As lovely as it was out in the garden, she’d better return to the ballroom or she’d catch a chill. Besides, it wouldn’t do to disappear and set tongues wagging; people might think she was on some sort of illicit rendezvous, and she daren’t risk ruin. Of course, if she died a spinster, that wouldn’t really matter, but she couldn’t dishonor her family name.

The bat flapped overhead again, and wheeled away, disappearing behind a large shrub. A dark form stepped out of the same shrub. Her breath caught and she jumped as a tall man approached.

Bennett Ashton.

Coming out from behind the very bush where the bat had disappeared.