“Whatever I wish.”
“Why won’t you tell me?”
“Because you do not need to know.”
She lifted a thoughtful brow. “Are you involved in something illegal?”
. “No.” He laughed softly. “Nothing like that. But my private life is my own.”
“Very well,” she said, petulantly. “Keep your secrets if you must.”
“Perhaps, one night, I will show you. But for now, I must go.”
“Where?”
With a shake of his head, he brushed a kiss across her lips. “Good night, fair Bryony. Rest well.”
She stamped her foot when he vanished from her sight. “I’ll find your secrets,” she said, pounding her fist on the arm of the couch. “Just see if I don’t.”
Bryony’s threat to discover what he was hiding played and replayed in his mind as he hunted the night for prey. What would she think if she discovered his secret? Would she run screaming from his presence? Cower before him? Look at him with revulsion in her beautiful blue eyes? Feel unclean because she had yearned for his kisses?
He swore under his breath as he stalked the darkness.
Monster!
Filled with anger and self-loathing, he took his prey unawares, let her see him for what he was. He drank her blood and her fear and reveled in it until he imagined that Bryony was watching him, her eyes filled with revulsion and reproach.
Dammit!He lifted his head and swore again. He had almost taken too much. Speaking to the woman’s mind, he bit into his wrist and held it to her lips, commanding her todrink, watching the color slowly return to her cheeks as she swallowed. When she had taken enough to sustain her, he wiped the memory of what had happened from her mind and sent her away. How many women had sustained him over the centuries, he wondered. He usually fed every night. It must be a sizeable number by now.
He drifted along the street, vaguely aware of his surroundings—a dog digging through a pile of garbage, a rat scurrying across his path, a baby wailing in the night, the harsh sounds of a couple squabbling. Ordinary sounds that had no real meaning to him anymore.
Nearing the old Stone House he called home, he paused to gaze into the darkness that surrounded him, wishing for things that could never be. Hating himself for his weakness, for wanting a woman he didn’t deserve.
Chapter Fourteen
Bryony glanced over her shoulder, surprised to see Stefan standing behind her when it was an hour until sundown. Laying her paintbrush aside, she turned to face him. “Is something amiss?”
He shook his head. What could be wrong when she was here? “I am in the mood to go out. Would you care to go with me?”
“Where are we going?”
“To Covent Garden.The Tempestis playing there.”
“I’ve only been to plays at the theater in town, never at Covent Garden. I hear it’s a grand place. I’ve always wanted to see it.”
“And so you shall. I will return for you in an hour. We will dine first.”
We?she thought. He never ate a thing, but she lacked the courage to question him about it. “I’ll be ready.”
He returned in one hour exactly. Bryony’s breath caught in her throat when she saw him. Clad in a white shirt, black jacket and cravat, trousers and boots, he was beautiful.
Stefan smiled inwardly. Beautiful, hah! “It is you who are beautiful,” he said. And indeed, she was. She wore a gown of emerald green that outlined every curve and revealed a goodbit of cleavage. She wore her hair up, though several long curls framed her face. She carried a matching green cloak over her arm.
“How long will it take us to get there?” she asked.
“Not long. We are going by magic.”
She frowned at him. “Magic?”
