I have to go. I love you.
As I love you.
Please don’t die.
He laughed in spite of the constant pain that was his only companion. I will do my best.
An hour later, Bryony stood under an arbor in the garden with Lord Timothy Bloodworth at her side. Veronica stood next to her, eyes swollen from the tears she had shed as she watched Bryony take her place beside Bloodworth. Therewere no guests present, only the family. The double wedding with all the festivities would take place as planned. Bryony and Bloodworth would wed again, alongside Veronica and Robert.
The ceremony was brief. The bride refused to kiss the groom, refused to speak to her father. She hugged her mother, her sister, and her brother, then hurried into the house and ran up the stairs to her bedchamber and locked the door. Since this wedding was to remain a secret, she would not yet live under Bloodworth’s roof, since it would be unseemly.
Bloodworth apparently had no problem with that.
When everyone but Barrett had returned to the house, Bloodworth took him aside. “Remember, she must consummate the marriage to fulfil our bargain,” he said.
“I remember. I trust you will treat my daughter with the respect she deserves,” Barrett said.
“Of course,” Bloodworth replied. “She will want for nothing.” He laughed softly. “And neither will I.”
Feeling as if he had just sold his daughter for thirty pieces of silver, Barrett watched Timothy Bloodworth climb into a luxurious carriage drawn by a pair of matched black geldings and drive away.
Walking slowly toward the house, he wondered if perhaps he should have listened to Bryony. Perhaps he should have swallowed his pride and accepted the vampire’s offer. And let his daughter marry a monster? He shook his head. In this instance, there were no good choices to be made.
At any rate, it was too late now. What was done, was done and if his daughter despised him, it was no more than he despised himself.
Stefan stared into the darkness of his prison. Every breath brought a new adventure in pain. He was familiar with dark magic, having had a black witch for a mother, and he sensed it all around him. He had known about the Hunter’s Guild for centuries. But he had never realized they had a connection to dark magic. It hummed all around him. He quietly cursed himself for his arrogance, for always thinking he could handle any situation, overcome any obstacle, emerge victorious from any confrontation. Well, he had met his match this time and it would likely cost him his life. He swore long and loud in every language he knew, but it brought no relief.
And so he closed his eyes and summoned Bryony’s image to mind—the beauty of her face and form, the silken cloud of her sun-gold hair, the bright blue of her eyes, the velvet softness of her skin, the warmth of her smile, the pleasure of her kisses, the way she melted in his arms. The unmatched sweetness of her blood. He groaned low in his throat. Her blood. He longed for it with every fiber of his being. Just one taste to ease the excruciating pain that tormented him day and night. Her blood. Just a taste to strengthen him so he could fight his enemies.
She had married Bloodworth today. The knowledge burned through him like acid, worse than the agony of the holy water and the silver combined. Should the opportunity arise, he would surely kill Leyton Barrett with his bare hands. And Bloodworth, too. How dare Barrett give Bryony to another when she belonged to him!
He swore under his breath at the thought of Bryony with another man, sharing his bed, submitting to his lust. Bearing his child. Rage exploded within him and he was helpless to indulge it. He could only lie there in the dark while his imagination tormented him with images of his fair Bryony in the arms of another. By damn, he would make Bloodworthsuffer for every moment he spent with Bryony. And then he laughed until he wept bitter, blood-red tears for what might have been.
Days passed. Bryony stayed in her room, refusing to come out, refusing to be in the same room with her father. She ate her meals in her room, often with Veronica. The maids tiptoed around her. Her mother tried to cheer her up but to no avail. She refused to be comforted while Stefan was in pain. Every now and then she felt what he was going through. The unrelenting agony of the silver searing preternatural flesh. The excruciating hunger that gnawed at his vitals.
Every night she tried to contact him. Sometimes he responded. Often, he did not. On those nights when he didn’t answer, she wondered if it was because he was too weak to respond, or if he couldn’t. And if he couldn’t… She refused to believe he was dead. And yet, her father had no reason to keep him alive now that she was Bloodworth’s wife, though, for now, she was his in name only. Perhaps they planned to keep Stefan alive until after the marriage was consummated. Well, they could wait until the end of time because she was never going to let that horribly repulsive man lay his hands on her, let alone share her bed.
Every morning, she sent a note to her father, begging him to let her see Stefan. And every morning he refused. Stefan spoke to her mind less and less often as the days went by. She knew, by the timbre of his voice, that he was getting weaker with every passing day.
She had to see Stefan. Had to know he was still alive.
On the morning of the eighth day, she stormed into her father’s office. Arms folded across her chest, she said, “I want to see Stefan. Today.”
“No.”
“You will take me to him or I will not participate in another wedding with that despicable man you forced me to marry. I don’t care if you rot in prison. For all I know, Stefan is dead.”
“He is very much alive. Or as alive as a vampire can be.”
“I want to see for myself.”
“It’s too dangerous. The man’s a monster. A killer.”
“How dangerous can he be locked in a cage?”
“I said no.”
Squaring her shoulders, Bryony looked her father in the eye. “After what you’ve put me through, the least you can do is let me see him. You owe me that much.”
