My Lord Eternity (Immortal Rogues #2)(17)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

His fingers searched along the curve of her neck, slowly testing the softness of her skin.

"You cannot run from me forever, Jocelyn," he warned in husky tones.

It took far more effort than she cared to admit to abruptly thrust away from the wall and step from his tempting nearness. She felt bewitched, and not at all herself.

In an effort to disguise her odd trembling, Jocelyn made a great show of smoothing her plain gray gown and ensuring her expression was calm.

"I can run an eternity if need be," she retorted in thankfully steady tones.

He smiled ruefully at her swift retreat, although a shimmer of determination remained in the golden eyes.

"Ah, no, that I will not allow," he warned as he moved to place her hand upon his arm and escorted her out the door and down the steps to the darkened street. "Where shall we go first?"

"To the warehouse," she said, having made her decision earlier in the day. "I wish to ensure the children are safe."

Lucien gave an understanding nod before stepping forward and at last hailing a passing hack.

They rode in silence as they made their way the handful of blocks to the derelict warehouse.

Jocelyn was soon lost in her concern for the children and women who were forced to sell themselves upon the streets. They were unfortunately vulnerable and all too often the victims of violence. A violence they possessed few means to oppose. Her distraction, however, was ruthlessly pierced as they moved closer and closer to the warehouse. A shiver raced through her as she felt an odd prickle of evil crawl over her skin.

It was ridiculous, she attempted to tell herself. One could not feel evil. And yet, her fingers instinctively reached up to touch the amulet around her neck, as if it were offering her a warning she should not ignore.

The sensation only grew stronger as the hack halted in the shadows of the warehouse. With a stiff reluctance she forced herself to accept Lucien’s help in alighting, then moved toward the narrow door. Much to her astonishment, she discovered it already open. A frown marred her forehead. The children were wise enough never to leave the door unattended.

"Thomas?" she called softly.

In a heartbeat Lucien had firmly grasped her arm, the moonlight glinting off the dagger he held in his hand.

"Wait here a moment," he commanded, his features oddly grim.

"No, Lucien. I will not be left behind."

Just for a moment he appeared poised to argue. It was obvious that he desired to keep her tucked away from danger. Then, noting her determined expression, he gave a resigned shake of his head.

"Very well," he conceded, "but remain behind me."

With a startling graceful movement Lucien slipped through the door, leaving Jocelyn to follow behind. She was careful to keep close, still bothered by that ominous sense of dread.

Ridiculous or not, it could not be shaken.

They had managed to enter the cavernous room and take several steps forward, when the familiar form of Thomas abruptly stepped in their path.

"’Ere, now. It be Miss Kingly’s gentleman."

Lucien came to a smooth halt. "Good evening, Thomas. Is all well?"

An unexpected grin split the dirty, angular countenance. "I’d say. A bloke came earlier with a whole cartload of food."

"What bloke? "Jocelyn demanded, stepping from behind Lucien with a startled frown. For months she had been caring for these children, and never to her knowledge had another shown the slightest interest in their welfare.

"Oh, Miss Kingly." Thomas gave a cocky bow. "Evening to you."

Jocelyn’s frown did not ease. "Who brought you the food, Thomas?"

The lad lifted a bony shoulder as he waved his hand toward a distant corner.

"He is over with Freddie."

Turning her head, Jocelyn slowly stiffened as she recognized the thin, balding man attired in black.

"Vicar Fallow," she breathed.

Almost as if hearing her soft words, the vicar slowly turned and regarded her from across the room. Even at such a distance the pale eyes seemed to chill her deep within. They glittered in the darkness with an unholy light, sending a rash of prickles over her skin.

Then she was sternly chastising her absurd fancy.

This gentleman had revealed nothing but generous kindness. First by chasing off the villains who had attacked her in the street, and now tonight, by offering starving children a much-needed meal.

She should be delighted with his appearance at the warehouse, not shuddering with distaste.

Keeping that thought firmly in mind, Jocelyn managed to conjure a smile as the vicar hurried across the floor to offer her a faint bow.

"Miss Kingly."

"Vicar," she murmured. "It was most kind of you to bring food to the children."

He moved his hands to his bony chest in a modest gesture. "I fear it is not much."

Jocelyn glanced to where the children greedily gorged themselves upon the large platters of food.

"It is far more than they had before."

"Perhaps." The vicar waited until Jocelyn returned her gaze to his thin countenance. "I only wish it were possible to take them away from such squalor. They should have homes with loving families."

"We can do only what is in our power."

"That is true, my dear." He heaved a deep sigh. "Still, I worry for their safety. It is said another maiden was killed this evening."

Jocelyn felt the blood drain from her face. No. This could not be happening. Not another poor, wretched maiden.

"Oh, no," she whispered.

"Terrible, is it not?" Vicar Fallow murmured, reaching out to pat her arm lightly. "A beast walks the streets of London. It is said he hunts someone or something."

Something?

Unconsciously stepping away from his distasteful touch, Jocelyn lifted a hand to the amulet about her neck.

What was happening?

And why?

"I…"

"Jocelyn." Abruptly appearing at her side, Lucien wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder. "There is no need to linger. The children are fed this night."

Shaken by the revelation of yet another murder, Jocelyn readily allowed Lucien to lend her support The familiar scent of his male warmth shrouded her in a sense of well-being.

"Yes."

The gaunt countenance of Vicar Fallow hardened at the arrival of Lucien, but the thin smile remained intact as he regarded the shaken Jocelyn.

"Miss Kingly, do not forget that I stand ready to be of assistance if ever you should need me."

She felt Lucien’s arm tighten about her shoulder as she gave a vague nod of her head. Clearly the two gentlemen had taken a swift dislike of each other.