My Lord Eternity (Immortal Rogues #2)(19)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

"All is well," he assured her softly.

In the light of the candle that had been left by Meg, Jocelyn’s features appeared remarkably fragile. Lucien caught his breath, mesmerized by her beauty.

"Then I shall wish you a good night," she retorted.

His hands briefly tightened upon her fingers, desperately wanting to prolong this moment.

Only the shadows lingering in her dark eyes kept him from pulling her into his arms and covering her lips with his own.

She was far too vulnerable this evening. He would not take advantage while she was defenseless.

"Sweet dreams, my dove," he murmured, reaching down to brush his mouth over her troubled brow before stepping back to allow her to leave.

She hesitated only a moment before she was moving through the foyer and up the stairs. He stood silently until he was certain she was in her chambers, then he turned to make his way down the hall.

He knew precisely what he would discover in the small kitchen at the back of the house.

Stepping into the cramped room, his gaze swiftly fell upon the large, dour-faced woman seated at the table with a heavy frying pan in her hands.

With his lips twitching in amusement, Lucien strolled to stand beside the table. "Ah, Meg. I thought I would find you still awake."

The woman regarded him with an aggressive frown that would have frightened a hapless thief into an early grave.

"I won’t be having any more of them villains bothering Miss Jocelyn."

"She is safely in her chambers," he reassured the loyal servant.

"I warned her there would be nothing but trouble living in such a place," Meg muttered in disgust. "Perhaps now she will listen to reason."

Lucien grimaced. "I would not place too much hope in such an occurrence. She is devoted to her work among the poor."

Meg gave a click of her tongue. "Devoted enough to end up with her throat slit, no doubt."

He stiffened. "Oh, no. I will not allow that to happen," he retorted in fierce tones.

The servant regarded him with a disapproving glance. "And how will you protect her when you are here for only a few weeks? Soon you will be back among your fancy friends and Miss Jocelyn will be alone."

"I will be here for as long as Jocelyn needs me."

He met the distrustful gaze squarely, his features as hard as granite. "I will not allow her to be harmed."

"Then you are not like most gentlemen of society," Meg said with a sniff.

Lucien barely swallowed a sudden laugh. He wondered what the older woman would think if he assured her just how different he truly was. Obviously her opinion of London dandies was not entirely pleasant, but he could not imagine that the notion of a vampire beneath her roof would be any easier to bear.

"I can safely assure you that I am utterly unlike any other gentleman of society."

With a small grunt Meg heaved herself out of her chair, the frying pan still clutched in her hand.

"I shall wait and see."

"As you wish." He sent her a kindly smile. "Go to bed, Meg. I will keep watch upon Jocelyn."

She waved the pan in a warning gesture. "Not too close a watch, mind you."

"Believe in me."

He watched as the servant wearily made her way out of the kitchen and toward her own small bed behind the pantry. For a moment he considered whether to return to the warehouse and attempt to track Amadeus to his lair. He was certainly no further along in convincing the traitor into returning to the Veil than he had been when he first arrived in London. Worse, he still did

not know exactly when Amadeus might next strike.

Then he gave a slow shake of his head.

He could not leave Jocelyn in the darkness of night. It was the time of vampires. It was when those who had indulged in blood lust were at their strongest. And, of course, there was always the danger of Amadeus’s henchmen.

He would do precisely as he had promised.

He would stand guard over the woman who was rapidly becoming a very necessary part of his life.

A woman who was stirring more than just his passions to life.

♥ Scanned by Coral ♥

Six

Hidden in the cellars of a local brothel, Amadeus sat beside the man chained to the heavy table. For nearly a week he had patiently tortured the foolish dandy, careful to keep him upon the edge of death without allowing him to tumble into oblivion.

It was tedious, delicate work. Only a master such as himself could possibly maintain such a fine line between life and death.

But even a master could begin to lose patience, Amadeus conceded, reaching up to remove the gag from the pathetic wretch’s mouth.

The pudgy face of the dandy was set in rigid fear as Amadeus bent over him.

"No," he choked out in terrified tones.

Smothering his angry impatience, Amadeus forced a comforting smile to his lips.

"Be at ease, my child," he soothed, "I am here to help. Would you like some water?"

"Yes."

Careful to dribble only the smallest amount of water between the gaping lips, Amadeus bent over the nearly delirious gentleman. The fool appeared a sorry sight with his hair matted with sweat and his finery stained with his own blood. Far different from the arrogant pup who had swaggered into the brothel searching for the more exotic sins of the flesh.

"Now, look at me," he commanded in relentless tones. "Look deep into my eyes. Tell me, what do you see?"

Unable to resist the compelling force of Amadeus’s voice, the man gazed helplessly into the pale eyes.

"Darkness," he babbled in fear. "Evil. Evil."

"No, you idiot," Amadeus gritted out. "What do you see? What truths do you behold?"

The dandy shook his head from side to side, spittle foaming at his mouth.

"Servant of hell, begone."

"Fah."

Thoroughly disgusted by the ridiculous buffoon, Amadeus leaned downward and sank his fangs deep within the fat throat. In moments the man below him was arched in the throes of death, and the vampire slowly glutted himself in the delights of blood lust.

And why not?

It had obviously been a vexing waste of time to attempt to learn anything from the wretched human. Like all the rest, he was weak and unable to concentrate when faced with the ultimate wonder. He had provided him nothing. Nodiing but the usual babblings.

Wiping the blood from his lips with a handkerchief, Amadeus slowly regained control of his icy fury.

There were endless mortals to experiment upon, he silently consoled himself. And once the Medallion was in his grasp, he would no longer need to conceal himself in such squalid surroundings with only the dregs of humanity to choose from.