The pressure of the barrier against his shoulder vanished. He stepped inside. “Do we have a deal? I’ll even help you cast your ward properly.”
On the surface, the offer appeared to go against his interests, but there was a rather significant caveat he had no intention of revealing: that using his own blood to complete the warding spell would allow him to pass through it unscathed.
She chewed on her bottom lip. “If we are to proceed, there is one more thing I need from you.”
His long legs ate up the space between them, and he looped his arms around her waist. “Oh?”
She recoiled, and her cheeks turned an even brighter shade of red. “Nothing of that nature!”
He knew, of course, that it hadn’t been her intention to make a sexual overture, but her intoxicating scent, the blush on her cheeks, and the way she darted the tip of her tongue across her lower lip made him shudder. “What, then?”
She gestured around the room. “This is my goal. To educate the people of London and the world about vampires. But…” She closed her eyes. “It’s only a means to an end.”
He clapped his hands. “Oh, is it story time? Let me get comfortable.” He pulled a wooden crate from beneath a nearby table, sat, and crossed his legs. “Please go on.”
Felicity walked over to a display and picked up a sword in a jeweled sheath. “Ten years ago, my parents were killed by one of your kind.” She removed the curved blade. “I would give anything to go back and warn them.” She slid the weapon back into the sheath and then tossed it in his direction. It smacked him in the chest and fell into his lap. He stared at the twinklingjewels, uncomprehending. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
Then he looked up to find she had drawn her sword and was posed as if ready for a duel.
“Are we to fight again?” He grasped the handle of the sword and pulled it out. “I would rather engage in more pleasurable activities.”
She scowled. “Stop talking and show me what you can do.”
He did as she’d demanded, copying her pose even though it made him feel ridiculous. As a human, he’d rarely wielded a sword. He’d much preferred to use his wiles and his charm to accomplish his goals. But her serious expression told him he would not be getting out of this confrontation without indulging her.
She lunged, moving insultingly slowly.
“I can’t rely on my family for help,” she said as she brought her sword back and repeated the previous motion, faster this time. “They think I’m a failure.”CLANG. “My family won’t even let me join the patrols.”CLANG.
He tilted his sword to meet her blows, which were powerful enough that they sent jolts of pain through his wrists. “That’s why you’ve been patrolling on your own.”
She shuffled back and dropped the point of her sword to the ground. “Yes.”
He lowered his weapon. She was proving far more interesting than he’d expected. The anger in her voice when she spoke of her family reminded him of the second night after Marguerite’s abandonment. He’d throttled Cordon and had demanded the older vampire put him out of his misery because Jonathan had failed to summon the courage to walk into the sun. He had slashed and snapped his teeth, but Cordon had avoided his attacks, stone-faced, until Jonathan had collapsed in a heap on the floor. Then Cordon had picked him up by the neck anddragged him down the stairs and into the cell they’d kept for interrogating prisoners.
“If you act like an animal, then I will treat you like one,”his brother had said.
As Jonathan looked at Felicity, he felt as if he’d taken on his brother’s role, trying to convince a woman who was so intent on revenge that her self-destruction was all but guaranteed. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want her to go down that path.
It was because she was interesting. That was the only reason he could come up with.
“You could have killed me the moment we met,” she said. She put her sword back into its sheath and walked forward until she was so close that he could smell the sweet honey scent of her blood wafting from her skin. “Why didn’t you?”
Because her stubbornness thrilled him. Because she’d penetrated the defenses he’d erected around his heart more than half a century ago. Because he ached to taste her.
“I’m not a killer,” he said. He tossed his sword. “What do you want?”
She exhaled softly. “I want you to help me find the vampire who killed my parents.”
Chapter Thirteen
“You wantmeto helpyoufind a vampire?” Mr. Drake asked.
Felicity stepped backward, shocked by the vehemence in his voice. A moment ago, he had insisted all he cared about was his own survival, but now he was talking as if he were a paragon of virtue.
“It’s a murderer,” she said flatly. “It slaughtered my parents. As a hunter, it’s my responsibility to track it down.”
Something she would have much preferred to do alone, but her recent brush with death had shaken her more than she cared to admit. There was no point in fighting on her own. She’d only get herself killed before she could complete her mission. Nor could she trust Great-Uncle Ezra to help. He’d be more likely to have her locked up in a madhouse than approve of her actions after he’d forbidden her from investigating.
