“I am happy,” she said, with a dreamy smile. “After all these years, I have found someone to love. Someone who loves me and will love me forever.”
“One of your fledglings?”
She nodded. “You could find the same happiness with your little mortal female.”
“What do you know of her?”
“Only what I have read in your mind. Why have you not turned her?”
“We never talked about it.”
She waved a negligent hand. “You do not ask. You just do it. Once it is done, she will come around. You did.”
He grunted. “What other choice did I have?”
“You could have walked out into the light of day and ended your existence.”
“No chance.” He had seen a young vampire do that once. Not a pretty sight.
“You have not fed tonight.” Taking his hand in hers, Charis pulled him to his feet. “Come hunting with me.”
“If you wish.”
“I’m in the mood for French food,” she said, with a grin. And the next thing he knew, they were in Paris.
They hunted for hours, drinking a little from many different people, pausing now and then to enjoy the quiet beauty of the night, or reminisce about days past.
“Go back to your little mortal,” Charis said in the hour before dawn. “No one else will ever make you happy.” She kissed him on both cheeks and then she was gone.
Stefan stood there a moment and then he began to laugh. Charis was right, he thought. He was a vampire and he could have anything he wanted. And he wanted Bryony to be his forever. She was his life, his love, fated to be his.
Barrett would undoubtedly be a problem, he mused, but there were supernatural ways around that, if necessary.
Stefan smiled into the darkness. He would go to her and court her and hope that, somehow, he could win her trust. That she could learn to accept what he was and find it in her heart to love both the man and the monster.
Leyton Barrett paced the floor in front of the hearth long after the rest of the family had gone to bed. Years ago, he had been an avid hunter but he had put all that behind him when Eli was born. He had kept in touch with the Guild, alerting them if he suspected someone of being a vampire. But his interest had waned through the years, partly because his family was more important than anything else, partly because the number of vampires had decreased in recent years. As far as he knew, there were less than a hundred bloodsuckers in the entire world and less than a handful in this part of the country. But even one was too many.
But one of them—this Stefan that Bryony thought was a witch—had kidnapped his daughter and kept her with him for months. Had the vile creature defiled his daughter? What unspeakable acts had he perpetrated? Had he fed on her? The very thought made Barrett’s stomach turn. His daughter, prey to a bloodsucking vampire. By damn, it was not to be borne!
Barrett grimaced. Should the Guild find this Stefan, he would rue the day he had dared lay his filthy hands on Bryony. The unholy creature would suffer for every day he had kept Bryony imprisoned and then he would pay the ultimate price.
It had been years since he’d taken a head, Barrett mused. He was woefully out of practice, but perhaps it was time to get back into the vampire-hunting business, at least temporarily. He still had the implements necessary to destroy the undead—a dozen sharp stakes, a wicked sword capable of separating a man from his head with a single stroke, and several bottles of holy water, the contents of which grew stronger and more potent as time passed.
Blowing out a sigh, he doused the fire in the hearth and padded upstairs to his bedchamber. There was time enough for revenge later. After changing into his night clothes, he slid beneath the covers. He put all thoughts of vampires from his mind as he took Maida in his arms and lost himself in the warmth of her love.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Stefan approached the Barrett mansion warily. He hadn’t survived as long as he had by being careless. He was about to lift the knocker when something gave him pause. Dissolving into mist, he slipped under the front door and floated up toward the ceiling, surprised that Barrett hadn’t revoked his invitation.
Barrett stood in front of the fireplace in the parlor speaking to three men. Men who were hunters.
“His name is Stefan,” Barrett was saying. “I have no idea where he rests but the rogue held my Bryony against her will and I want him to pay for it.”
“I assume you want to take his head yourself,” one of the hunters remarked with a wry grin.
“If possible, Charles. But if any of you have a chance to destroy him, do it. Don’t wait for me. Don’t try to take him alive or bring him here. Just do what has to be done if the opportunity arises.”
The three men nodded. There were handshakes all around, then Barrett walked his guests to the door and bid them good night. When he turned around, Stefan was standing in front of the hearth.
