A glance at his sleeping bed partner reminded him how easy it had been to entice her. If his thrall had worked with Angelica, she would be the one in his bed right now.
He would have pleasured her, too.
Instead he’d frightened and disgusted her. And she certainly wouldn’t be of any willing assistance to him now.
Much as he hated the thought, he’d best leave England straight away. After this, Woodmore and Corvindale would be on his trail, after his heart. Voss preferred to keep his life as free of violence as possible, and if they found him, there was more than a chance he might actually get hurt.
Especially if the two were together.
So he would have to depart London and go somewhere else for civilization and culture. Rome. Lisbon. Perhaps Barcelona, where he could make a deal with Regeris. Definitely not back to the Colonies.
Frowning, his knees weak and his world spinning—not to mention the foul taste in his mouth—Voss snatched up a pillow and, sliding his hands into the case, held it up as a shield and rushed through the sunbeam. It burned where it caught a slice of his wrist and wavered over a segment of his temple, but he made it into the shadows on the other side of the lethal light.
He no longer had his double-lined cloak that worked so well to keep every bit of the sun from him, and now when he left this chamber in the boardinghouse, he’d be vulnerable to the light.
But he had to leave. He wanted to get away from this room, the smell of stale blood and spilled whisky and sex, and be somewhere else.
Voss glanced at the woman, who’d begun to snore delicately. Definitely not dead, and for some reason, he was relieved yet again. She had given him a good ride last evening, and been very generous with all of her bodily fluids. Perhaps he hadn’t compensated her enough. He jammed his hand into the pocket of his coat and found another guinea.
As he pulled out the coin, his glove came with it and Voss paused, suddenly paralyzed by a thought. A glove.
His glove.
Angelica had been holding his glove when he opened the carriage door for her.
Did she know that he was going to die?
“What are you doing here, Voss?”Rubey’s blue eyes peered through the small door panel. They weren’t kind nor welcoming in the least. In fact, he’d never seen them so cold.
“Won’t you let me in?” Voss wheedled, and allowed a bit of that enticing glow into his eyes. “I just want to talk with you, Rubey, darling.” The weight of the sunshine beat down on the hooded cloak he’d stolen from the front closet of the boardinghouse, and although it didn’t touch him directly, he could feel it like a heavy hand. “Perhaps a bit of tête-à-tête, too. I know how you like?—”
“No,” she said, and made to slide the door panel closed.
“Wait, Rubey. Please,” he said, panic in his voice, jamming his hand into the slot. “I haven’t anywhere else to go, and I need to talk with someone. And the sun?—”
“Dimitri was here. He and Giordan. Looking for you. Sure as the sun, they’re going to kill you when they find you.”
A little prickle skittered down his spine. “Angelica? Is she…Did they say anything about her?”
“So it is about Angelica.” The blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and the small panel remained half open. Then she shook her head. “No, Voss. The last time I let you sugar-talk me into something I shouldn’t have, you know what happened.”
“I am sorry about the maid,” Voss said, removing his hand so he could adjust the slipping cloak.
“You’re only saying that because you want me to change my mind.”
Voss paused, then smiled in chagrin. It was true. He hadn’t given the maid much thought. “I am sorry,” he said again, and this time, he did mean it—especially when he thought that it could have been Angelica there in bloody ribbons. “Please, Rubey. You know how it pains me to beg.”
That brought a laugh and a bit of reluctant sparkle to her eyes. “That’s not strictly true, Voss, darling. I seem to remember that time you took me to Paris and there was more than a bit of begging going on…on your end.”
But even that memory—as pleasant as it was—failed to bring a smile to his lips. “Rubey. As a friend, I ask you to let me in. You’re one of the wisest people I know. And I need to talk to a wise person.” And it wasn’t as if Dimitri was going to have a conversation with him that didn’t involve a stake or a sword.
The little slot slammed shut and for a moment Voss thought he’d overdone it, but then the door opened and Rubey was there, gesturing angrily. He stepped into the foyer of her private home,the same place that had been violated by the vampires only yesterday.
Or was it the day before? Lucifer’s burning soul, he’d lost track of the time since he and Angelica had been at Black Maude’s.
“If they come back, I’m not going to lie,” Rubey was saying as she slammed the door shut and locked it. Three locks and a heavy slab of wood across it. “I’ll tell them you were here, and gladly, Voss.”
He noticed fresh marks on her shoulder. “I see you’ve been entertaining Cale.”
