My Lord Eternity (Immortal Rogues #2)(15)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

"Pretty necklace," he rasped, moving relentlessly forward.

Realizing that he had no choice but to rid the house of the dangerous intruder, Lucien backed toward the center of the room, where he would have more space to maneuver. Thankfully the man eagerly followed his path, not realizing his danger. Keeping his gaze upon the sword, Lucien feinted with his dagger, leaving himself seemingly open to attack. As expected, the intruder lunged forward for the kill, unprepared for Lucien to swiftly vault to one side and come at him from behind.

Locking his powerful arms about the man, Lucien heaved him off his feet. Then, ignoring the muted struggles and offensive smell, he carried him toward the open window and tossed him through. There was a dull thud as the man hit the ground below. Astonishingly, however, he was swiftly upon his feet and scrambling toward the nearby alley.

Lucien was preparing to slip out and follow the servant back to Amadeus, when he heard Jocelyn suddenly cry out.

"Lucien."

As he hesitated, he felt an unexpected pain bite deep into his shoulder.

Cursing his foolish inattention, he spun around to discover yet another servant standing with the sword that had been dropped.

Blast himself for a fool. He had been so intent upon the intruder, he had not suspected that another hovered out of sight. A near-catastrophic assumption. His lack of wits could easily have allowed Jocelyn to be harmed. The mere thought sent an icy chill through his blood.

Ignoring the blood he could feel flowing from his wound, he clutched the dagger and waited for the servant to attack. It took only a moment as the man gave a mindless growl and heedlessly charged forward.

It was a simple matter for Lucien to dip low as the villain reached him, grasping the fool by the legs and neatly tossing him through the window.

On this occasion he managed to keep his wits about him, and rather than watching the servant plunge to the ground, he maintained a close guard on the room.

Against a far wall he could see the frightened form of Jocelyn, but there were no other shadows in the cramped chamber. Slipping toward the bed, he carefully ensured that there was no one hidden beneath and then moved to search the narrow armoire.

At last convinced that they were indeed alone, he slipped the dagger beneath his jacket and heaved a rueful sigh.

"They are gone."

As if some spell had been broken, Jocelyn gave a low cry and abruptly charged forward.

"Oh, Mr. Valin … Lucien … are you harmed?"

He grimaced as he carefully kept his injured shoulder turned away. This maiden was certain to question how he was capable of receiving a deep sword wound and healing within a few hours.

"Only a trifling scratch, and only because of my own foolishness," he assured her wryly. "I was so intent upon impressing you with my skill that I blundered into forgetting there might be a second villain. Thank goodness he was as inept as his partner."

His light words were greeted by a lingering frown of concern. "You are certain you are not in need of a doctor?"

"Absolutely certain."

"At least it must be cleaned," she persisted.

Although pleased by her obvious concern, Lucien realized he needed a distraction. He could not allow her to examine the wound. Already the bleeding had halted and the flesh was beginning to weave a smooth bond.

"I will tend to it later." Firmly he moved to gaze out the open window, not at all surprised to discover that the second villain had disappeared as well. The Inscrolled slaves would be indifferent to any injury, no matter how grievous, in an effort to return to their master. His attention moved to the iron pipe that ran close to the window from the gutters above. That no doubt explained how the intruders managed to enter the house undetected.

"They must have crawled through the window," he murmured.

She crossed to join him. "Yes, it was open when I stepped into the room." There was a startled pause. "They have disappeared."

Realizing that she had expected to discover two broken bodies in her garden, he gave a negligent shrug.

"Yes, the drop is not far."

"Still—"

"At least they are gone," he firmly interrupted, reaching out to grasp her shoulders and turn her to meet his reassuring gaze.

"Yes." A sudden shudder raced through her body. "But why were they here?"

He softly stroked the tense muscles of her shoulders, wishing he could assure her that she need never fear again.

"Desperate thieves, no doubt."

She gave a slow shake of her head, her brow pleated in unease. "They spoke of a necklace.

My necklace."

Lucien sternly kept his expression unreadable. He had hoped that she had not overheard the rasping words of the intruders. It would be difficult enough for her to forget the terror of having her home invaded without worry they might return for the Medallion about her neck.

"Perhaps they noted the amulet when you entered the room and presumed it worth stealing."

"I suppose." Her expression remained filled with doubt. "It is still very odd."

Stepping closer, Lucien carefully encircled her in his arms, hoping to surround her with his strength.

"Let us not dwell upon it, my dove. They are gone and I do not believe that they will soon return."

There was a short pause before she slowly lifted her head to regard him with a somber expression.

"I am relieved you were here."

Lucien stilled, caught off guard by her soft words. Then slowly he smiled deep into her darkened eyes.

"So am I," he whispered gently, wanting nothing more than to ease the fear that lingered within her. This maiden should know only joy, he told himself fiercely. And he would do whatever in his power to see it done. "You see, for a frippery fellow, I do have my uses upon occasion."

To his great relief, a measure of her tension eased and her lips even twitched with reluctant humor.

"Upon occasion, I suppose," she conceded.

He lifted his brow with a wicked glint smoldering in his eyes. "I have numerous other uses beyond rescuing damsels in distress, if you would only allow me to demonstrate."

Despite her best attempts, she could not entirely prevent the faint hint of color that touched her cheeks.

"I believe you have demonstrated quite enough for one evening."

"Ah, but that was only a taste."

"Really, Mr. Valin," she protested in breathy tones.

His hand lifted to lightly stroke the soft skin of her countenance. "I believe you called me Lucien earlier. Such formality is surely unnecessary between friends."