“Moldavi won’t rest until he gets his sister back, or until he has revenge on your brother for taking her.”
“Chas took avampir’ssister? Do you mean he kidnapped her?” The fear was replaced by surprise and confusion. “What on earth do you mean? How many of those creatures are there?” Panic stretched her voice.
“To be quite honest, I’m not certain whether he abducted Narcise…or whether they—er—eloped. It’s all conjecture, really, but I do know Moldavi is looking for your brother because Narcise is with him. Or was last seen with him, in Paris. Moldavi is rather closely associated with Bonaparte and has been staying there for some time. And until he gets Narcise back, or until he finds Woodmore, you are in danger because Moldavi will wantto use you as bait or ransom for Narcise’s return. And if your brother is dead?—”
“He’s not dead.”
Voss stilled. “You know this?”
But she wasn’t listening; it was as if she were having her own conversation. “Are you suggesting my brother has eloped with avampir?How could you even fathom such a thing? Chas would have nothing to do with monsters like that. Or is she not one of those horrible creatures, but just the sister of one?” Her eyes blazed with shock and accusation.
“Narcise is one of them, yes,” he replied, feeling as if he were walking on a very delicate sheet of ice. And once again, he wondered why in Luce’s name did he even care if he fell through. At least if he did, there would be no reason to wait any longer for her. His blood surged at the thought.
Whywashe waiting, anyway?
“Does she bite people, too? With long teeth and claws? Tear into them like paper dolls?” Tears had gathered in her eyes, and as she lifted a hand to her mouth, he saw that her fingers trembled violently. “I cannot fathom such vile creatures who take from other people andleave them to die.They drink theirblood.Theytake.”
Voss reminded himself that she could have no idea she was sitting in the same room with one of those horrible creatures—who wanted nothing more than to do the same to her, among other things—but for some reason, her words stung.
“Angelica,” he began.
She swiped a tear away and kept talking. “I thought it was all stories, a legend my granny told us. But they’rereal.And my brother is all sorted up with them. He could be in danger. Heisin danger. He’s gone into hiding, I’m certain of it.”
“Everything I know about your brother says he knows how to take care of himself,” Voss told her. “Did you not just say he isn’t dead? Do you know this?”
“I’m sure he’s not dead. I?—”
A knock at the door interrupted her, and Voss, smothering a curse as she fell silent, walked over. A low opening at the bottom of the door allowed for a tray of wine, cheese and bread to be slid beneath—again, keeping the anonymity of the chamber’s occupants intact.
“I cannot eat,” Angelica said, holding a hand in front of her belly. “I don’t know that I shall ever eat again, with those images in my mind. Poor Ella.” She looked even more pale-faced than before, and her eyes seemed to have sunken into their sockets in the last few moments. “I cannot believe it of Chas.”
Voss put the tray on the table and poured a glass of the wine. “Perhaps you are thirsty?”
“What is that?” she asked, pointing to his glass, likely forgetting ladies didn’t point. “Whisky? Brandy? Something else meant only for men?”
Some of his discomfort slid away. “If you wish to try it, I won’t tell anyone.” No indeed.
“There are many things about these last two days I hope you shall not tell anyone,” Angelica said. The look she gave him was not one of a coquette, teasing him for more, but one of a woman very aware of her situation… and it was disconcerting.
She took the glass and drank, then, predictably, began coughing uncontrollably. But despite the fact that her eyes watered, she raised the glass for another taste. This time, she was more cautious and the sip went down easier. “It tastes terrible.”
Voss smiled. “I know. The wine isn’t much better quality, but you might prefer it.”
“It’s warm,” she said, drinking again. “I mean to say, I feel warm. It makes me feel warm.”
“That is not the only way you’ll be feeling if you drink too much of it,” he said despite the arc of pain that shot through him.
Let her drink,the devil told him.She won’t fight you.
He thought it prudent to change the subject. “What were you going to tell me earlier? Or have you changed your mind?”
She sank down onto the cloak-draped chair, whisky still in hand. Half the generous dollop he’d poured was gone and her movements were already looser. “I’ve never told another person this. I’m not altogether certain why I should want to tell you, Dewhurst.”
“Voss,” he said. “Call me Voss.”
Angelica frowned and he wasn’t certain if it was because she’d taken another drink or because of his suggestion. “Rubey calls you by your given name. That bespeaks of a very intimate relationship.”
“I have just asked you to call me by my given name as well. Do you and I have an intimate relationship?” The words, practiced and easy, slid from his flirtatious tongue. He brought out his smile, the warm one whose allure never failed, to curve his lips. His sisters, his mistresses, the wife of his mathematics teacher, and so many others…none of them had been able to resist.
