Chapter Three

He was unaware of her.

With the same searing, black eyes that had been a nightmare for her for the previous five years, Julian Kane had directly gazed at her, showing only the tiniest hint of curiosity. Or was it irritation?

He seemed to have forgotten much of her because their time together had apparently meant so little to him. Why should he, too? Portia pondered. He had surely had dozens, no, hordes of other women willing to help him forget her in the years since he had left—she sneaked a bitter glance at the blowsy brunette still clutching to his hand. Why should he recall the awkward seventeen-year-old girl who almost threw herself at him every time he waltzed into a room, flushed, stammered, and entered?

Portia had to resist the impulse to erupt into a towering wrath as soon as the initial wave of pain subsided. She wanted nothing more than tossing her magnificent bonnet on the ground and jumping up and down on it, despite bragging to Adrian that she was no longer a child.

Brilliant Eyes?Julian muttered, his appealing study of shock and perplexity on his face.

She snarled, instantly hating the compliment, “Don’t call me that.” She would bite his fingers if he attempted to adjust her nose.

He gave them a forlorn look as if he were only becoming aware of how filthy their surroundings were. What in God’s name are you doing in such a hell?”

What better place to search for a missing devil?”, she answered.

They were starting to draw some attention. A few of the seedier-looking males had already started to approach, almost as if they could smell blood.

A large man with a red-veined nose and hands as meaty as hams cried out, “If the lady’s looking for a game, I’m ready to play.”

Someone else said, pushing the man next to him, “Big Jim is always ready.” That is how he came to have twelve brats, only two of whom were on his unfortunate wife.

His statements were met with boisterous laughing, but it was clear that there was a nasty undertone. Portia took a step back as Julian let go of the brunette’s hand and moved closer to her as she felt a slight thrill of worry.

It appeared that she had finally had his attention.

He had a stride that was as fluid and deadly as any predator’s. Before she could object, he had a tight grip on her hand.

“Ow!She mumbled as she twisted to escape.

He said under his breath, “Sorry,” loosened his hold, but kept his hold on her hand. I occasionally lose sight of my own power.

He nestled her back into his wide chest after gracefully swinging her around as though they were waltzing across a ballroom floor, displaying his might in full.

Julian said, “I’m afraid she’s not looking for a game, lads,” as they turned to face the gathering of men who appeared to be turning into a pack. He nuzzled her hair while softly closing his hands over her shoulders, his sweet baritone striking the ideal note between rakish and sheepish. She’s no lady, either. She is my spouse.

The crowd erupted in sympathetic groans. It was clear that this was not the first time a furious woman had barged into the club to drag her husband home. Some of the men even reached up to take off their caps as they turned to look at her with a newfound respect. Portia was, however, taken aback by the unsettling sensation of Julian’s nose brushing against her earring. She almost believed he was sniffing her.

She fought the impulse to stomp on his instep and instead turned around to give him a brilliant smile in an effort to disprove his assumption that she was not nearly as helpless—or as witless—as he thought. She patted the ruffled shirtfront peeking out from the deep V of his waistcoat, “When I awoke to find you gone from my bed, I couldn’t help but worry, darling.” You can never be too careful with those weeping wounds, despite what you promised me about your French pox healing completely.

This time, the groans of the men were much more pitiful. The blonde was sputtering as the brunette let out an angry cry and grabbed her hand. Julian received scathing stares from both women as they floundered towards the stairs.

Even as he wrapped one arm around her waist to bring her lower body flush up against his, Julian’s eyes become increasingly focused on her face. She attempted to move back an inch, very aware of the dangerously close fit of his trousers, but her efforts only served to amplify his sneer.

He answered, “My love, your concern is most touching.” And how fortunate that you should show up right as I was starting to worry about where I would get my next meal.

She saw a teaser peek of his fangs as his lips parted. Fangs that only grew longer and more acute when he was starving. or sparked. Portia gulped. She may have made a mistake by baiting him. He was now nothing more to her than a potentially dangerous stranger if Adrian and Caroline were correct and he had given up on the quest for his soul. He only saw her as a very tasty morsel, nothing more.

Being acutely aware of the rock-hard muscles under her gloved hand, she pushed herself to give his chest another wifely pat. If you want to play more cards, sweeting , I’ll run home and wake the maid up so she can make you a midnight meal.

He smiled knowingly as the corner of his mouth jerked upward. “False, my dear. His long, sooty lashes slipped downward as he leaned towards her, saying, “I do believe you’ve aroused an appetite that only you can fulfil. Portia discovered too late that he had no desire to adjust her nose.

He was already there, brushing his lips over hers like molten silk as she opened her mouth to protest. She might have jerked away from the shock because it was so intense, but for the strong hand that went up her nape and the sure, strong fingers that worked their way through her upswept curls to bind her to him just like any slave girl would a master.

He softly nudged her head backward as he expertly destroyed her inhibitions. He gradually licked his way into her mouth, enticing and seducing her with each lazy movement of his tongue as he moved his lips back and forth across hers. He kissed her as if he had an endless amount of time to dedicate to her pleasure.

He gave me a vampiric kiss.

Although Portia gripped on his waistcoat, she could still feel herself slipping away and plunging into a pitch-black void where only he and the alluring prospect of his kiss were there. The roaring in her ears made it difficult for her to hear the vulgar hoots and catcalls of the hell’s clients.

If it weren’t for the acute sting on the inside of her lower lip, she might have been satisfied to plunge herself into that void and never come out. When she tasted the metallic tang of blood in her mouth, she realised she had been nicked by one of Julian’s fangs. He also took a bite. The last of her air was in danger of being sucked out of her lungs by his abruptly inhaled breath, which wasn’t really a breath at all. She appeared to have bit him from behind as he jerked away from her.

His pupils widened, and his nostrils flared. His entire body appeared to be vibrating with some sort of primal need, despite the fact that he made no movement.

Portia placed a quivering hand near her mouth. She removed her white glove with a single bloodstain on it. Julian briefly averted his eyes. They were as opaque and unyielding as black quartz when he opened them once more.

One of the men coughed before jerking his shoulder in the direction of the stairs. For a few shekels, you and your lady can rent one of the apartments upstairs.

Julian gathered her back into his arms, saying calmly, “That won’t be necessary,” as if they were the most devoted of spouses. Anything worth having, even your wife, is worth waiting for, I’ve learned.

He claimed his prize, which included Portia’s velvet choker, and slung his coat around her shoulders to the admiring giggles of the audience. He swept her out of the gambling pit and into the night before she could even breathe a small protest.

Portia tried to maintain control of her bonnet and reticule while trying to keep up with Julian’s big steps as he pulled her forward with a tight grip on her elbow.

His friendly exterior of charm had evaporated, leaving him with a severe jaw and an impenetrable face. She couldn’t stop sneaking peeks at that profile out of curiosity.

Dissipation had left no scars on his face, despite the excesses of drink and women she had observed in the gaming hell. He had the same Byronic beauty she was all too familiar with, as evidenced by his powerful aquiline nose, the sensual cut of his full lips, and his cleft chin. The victim of an enigmatic disease and his own excesses, Byron had been decaying in his Nottinghamshire tomb for nearly two years by this point, but Julian had been frozen for all time in the first potent flush of manhood because of the vampire who had taken his soul.

Finally, the snow stopped falling. His eyes were hidden by the soft streetlight glow, which also created ominous shadows below his prominent cheekbones.

“Where are we going?””, she insisted. Your carriage, please.

“My carriage is not available. It was rented, and the driver was not willing to stay in this area after nightfall.

Which would make him far smarter than you, wouldn’t it?”

“You can call me names all you want, but I’m not going to storm out in a huff.”

He quickly added, “Then I’ll take you where you belong.” “Home.”

They both came to a sudden stop when she dug in her heels. I can’t allow you to do that.

To her left, turning to face her. Why not?””

She attempted to speak but took an unnecessary amount of time to pause.

He extended a hand. “Wait. Let me venture a guess. Probably, my brother’s family will no longer accept me. Who father in their right mind would want me to watch over their defenceless infant, after all?He laughed. Before I could spread my arms and sing, “Come here,Eloisa  , and meet your Uncle Julian,” Adrian would likely run me over with one of Caroline’s parasols. What a lovely tiny neck you have, my friend!’”

“So you did receive Caroline’s letter from the time Eloisa was born!Portia stated accusingly. Why didn’t you respond to me?”

He made a shrug. “Maybe I did. You are aware of how notoriously unreliable the post can be.

Her eyes narrowed as she realized  that the post wasn’t the notorious or unreliable one. Well, leaving us in suspense regarding your location for so long was pretty careless of you. You might have been anything, for all we knew.”

“Undead ?When she hesitated, he made the proposition. He sighed in response to her critical look. “How would you advise I get rid of you if you won’t let me accompany you home? Should I simply leave you at the next casino hell we encounter?”

Portia put her bonnet on and tied a cheery bow with the satin ribbons beneath her chin because she knew she would need all the confidence she could get. “I was hoping that I could accompany you to your lodgings.”

Julian’s face lost all signs of humor , becoming as calm and polished as a mask. Sorry, but I don’t think that would be a good idea. He drew her a sharp bow and said, “Since you found your way here, I’m going to assume that you’ll be equally adept at finding your way home.” Miss Cabot, good night. Give my warmest regards to my brother and his family.

The moment he turned around and began to walk away, it appeared as though he had every intention of abandoning her there on the corner of the street, still warm from the folds of his coat that were perfumed with tobacco and spices.

She screamed after him, “If you won’t take me to your lodgings, I’ll just follow you.”

Julian made a turn. Portia had to fight the strong impulse to stumble backward as he approached her again, his face set in harsh lines.

A mere foot away from her, he came to a stop, his dark eyes burning. “First, you barge into the filthiest gambling dens as though you were the bloody Queen Elizabeth. Then why do you offer to go with a monster like me to his lodgings, not a man like me? Have you, lady, no regard for your reputation? to save your life?”

I’m not worried right now about my life. This is yours.

“Sweetheart, I don’t have a life. merely a being.

Which, if you don’t at least pay attention to what I have to say, might be quickly coming to an end.”

He could swear in French with ease. Portia raised her chin and refrained from blushing. She had overheard Adrian swearing significantly more colorfully, mostly in English.

A man who smelled like unclean body and cheap gin stumbled past them. Julian bared his teeth and growled, the primal sound lifting every hair on Portia’s nape as the stranger’s eager eyes swept over the generous swell of her breasts. The man stumbled into an awkward trot and narrowly avoided a lamppost as he terrifiedly   peered over his shoulder.

Julian scratched his chin, clearly grappling with her demand, “It appears I’m not the only beast prowling the streets of London tonight.” He finally bit off, “Very well.” “I’ll take you to my rooms if you insist. He offered her his arm before she could respond, “Only if you swear you’ll let me slumber in peace once you’ve had your way and your say.

Portia hesitated for the tiniest fraction of a second before placing her gloved hand in the crook of his arm, still haunted by the echo of that growl.

Portia was surprised to see that the creaky stairs leading to Julian’s rental apartment complex in the middle of the Strand went up rather than down. She had anticipated finding him living in a posh subterranean flat, similar to his hidden chamber in the dungeon of Trevelyan Castle, where he and Adrian had spent their formative years.

When he wasn’t sleeping in the beautiful wooden coffin that predominated the room, he might pass the time playing marble chess in that chamber, which was also decorated with Chippendale furniture, various busts and paintings, and cashmere and Chinese silk. Julian had always been a vamp who valued creature and human comforts alike.

Because of this, it came as such a shock to her when he swept open the door at the top of the ominous staircase, revealing a small, chamber that was essentially a garret. A damaged armoire, a worn-out wing chair, and a scarred table with two ladder-back chairs were the only pieces of furniture in the space.

all chairs made from the least expensive pine. On the table, a lamp was dimly lit, casting shadows over the walls’ fading paint. No one would have suspected there was a vampire living there if not for the thick black crepe sheets covering the dormer windows.

A collapsing cast-iron bedstead stood in place of a coffin in one of the corners. Portia averted her eyes from the bed’s soiled sheets as she accepted Julian’s silent invitation to enter the room before him.

He shut the door, leaned against it with his back, and watched her turn to face him with heavy-lidded eyes. Portia Cabot, who was once young, has grown up.

Portia shrugged, sensing that he wasn’t particularly amused by the idea by the cautious tone in his voice. “It was destined to occur. I couldn’t continue loving Byron’s poems as a young, impressionable girl forever.

More’s the pity, thought Julian.

He gave up his position near the door and walked right by her to get to the table. He poured two drinks from the amber bottle that was sitting next to them after blowing the dust from a pair of mismatched goblets. His long, graceful fingers were caressing the goblet’s bowl as he extended one to her.

She took it and held it up to her nose, warily glancing at him as she inhaled the ruby-red liquid.

He reassured her, “Don’t worry, it’s only port,” with a chuckle in his eyes. And affordable port at that. However, it’s all I can currently afford.

She cautiously drank a taste of the smoky wine. How much alcohol have you consumed so far tonight?”

Leaning on the table, he muttered, “Not nearly enough,” and took a sip from his glass. He mockingly raised the empty goblet to her. “I sincerely hope you’ll pardon my bad mood. You ruined my evening meal, and when I’m hungry, I may be a little grumpy.

Portia’s eyes widened in fear as she choked on the wine. “Those women over at the gambling hell, back there? You intended to…eat them, right?”

He appeared to have thought better of what he was about to say after opening his mouth and shut it again. “The answer is no if you’re wondering if I was going to kill them. They are more of a tasty small snack, in my opinion.

He moaned as her eyes just grew wider. A vampire can only eat so much rare roast steak and butcher shop blood. I recently made an amazing discovery while I was around the world. Wherever I go, it seems like there are always women eager to offer me a small sip of themselves. His cynical eyes swept over the pallid scars on her throat, “I take exactly what I need to survive, and in exchange…I make sure they get what they need. I suppose I owe you credit for teaching me that lesson since you were the first lady I ever drank from.

Then, Portia was on the verge of disliking him. Hated him for attempting to transform a delicate and desperate deed into something obscene and filthy.

He moved closer to her, first taking one step and then another, as if that weren’t insult enough. I’m not nearly as sloppy or careless as I was with you. He placed one hand on her throat, his fingertips caressing the scars he had left on her with a sensuous tenderness that made her shudder. “I’ve even learned to drink from other areas so the scars won’t be so noticeable. Did you know that a woman’s inner thigh contains a particularly delicious small artery right below—”

halt it!Portia slapped his hand away and yelled, “" “Stop being such a jerk! I understand exactly what you’re attempting to accomplish, and it won’t succeed!”

He moved away from her while mockingly surrendering by holding up both hands. Bright Eyes, you never used to scare easily did you?”

He was mistaken. She was frightened. He was frightened by the rapidity of her pulse under his fingertips. frightened by the influence his touch still had on her. She was terrified that he could think she was no better than those women who were eager and willing to satiate his demands in exchange for satiating theirs.

He wasn’t the only person who had improved their bluffing skills in recent years, either. She made the most of her dimples as she grinned at him. I’m sorry to offend your renown conceit, but I have no intention of hurriedly leaving just because you say, ‘Boo!’ to me.”

She took off her bonnet, tossed his coat in the direction of the bed, and

She carefully placed it on the table and then started removing her gloves, one finger at a time. Julian’s eyebrow rose as she slipped out of her pelisse, seemingly asking what she could contemplate taking off next.

She sat carefully on the edge of the wing chair with the ribbons of her reticule still looped around her wrist. She then took another delicate sip of the port. “Quite frankly, I find your growling and posturing to be a bit of a bore,” she said. “Your growling and posturing might impress the kind of women you’re used to consorting with.”

Julian’s eyebrow’s black wing rose even higher. “Please forgive me, Miss Cabot. I evidently thought you were the enthralling child who would gasp with joy at every phrase I used to utter.

Even the most endearing youngsters must eventually grow up, I’m afraid. The news that I no longer believe in mermaids, leprechauns, or werewolves I hope won’t surprise you.

But you continue to have faith in me.

Portia hardly concealed her fright. Had he acquired the ability to read minds along with his other sinister gifts?

She was greatly relieved when he clarified, “You still believe in the existence of vampires.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I? Not after your brother spent the previous five years expelling the worst of them from London.

Julian poured himself another glass of port and scowled, placing one lean hip on the other corner of the table. “Well, that would explain why they’re overrunning the alleys of Florence and Madrid.” “It is clear that Adrian has neglected his responsibilities as your guardian. I would have assumed that by this point, he would have married you off to a wealthy viscount or earl who could provide you with six children to keep you in the nursery where you belong.

“I’ve been away from the nursery for a while, and I have no plans to return. not for a very long time, at least. So tell me,” she said, blinking up at him, “didn’t you come across anything else of interest while you were traveling the world studying how to subjugate weak-willed women with your seductive powers? like your eternal soul, for example?”

He set the glass down on the table before patting the pockets of his waistcoat, as if the one thing that could bring him back to humanity were no more important than a misplaced cravat or a missing riding glove. The damn item has shown to be incredibly slippery. No vampire has ever approached me and offered to let me cut open their throat so I can take my stolen soul from them.

The vampire that sired Duvalier and took possession of your soul after Duvalier was destroyed was never even located, I take it.”

“I’m sorry, no. Even among themselves, vampires are known for keeping their mouths shut unless they are feeding.

Portia squinted. Her suspicion that he wasn’t being totally honest was sparked by something in his tone. “So you didn’t discover your soul, but you did find time to establish your heroism in the Burmese battlefields?”

He shrugged indifferently while raising one shoulder. How challenging is it to be a hero when you are immortal? Why don’t I offer to be the charge leader in every action? To rescue every fallen soldier, sneak behind the enemy lines. No harm could come to me.

If the sun didn’t shine.

His mocking smile was a tilt of his lips. It was rainy season.

I assume the monarch was more impressed with your efforts than you were since he knighted you.

“This world’s dreamers are constantly yearning for a hero. The monarch, I believe, is just like any other man.

She brazenly looked into his eyes, “Or woman,” she said.

He straightened up and crossed his arms across his chest. “Portia, maybe it’s time you told me specifically what you’re looking for. Because you’ve come to the wrong spot if it’s a hero.

She got up from the chair and made her way over to the window after being alarmed by his unwavering gaze. She pulled back the crepe curtain and looked down into the dark alley below. Even if every darkness seemed to conceal a nameless danger, the man impatiently waiting for her response posed the greatest threat to her.

She gave her reflection in the glass a stern look before letting it go and turning to face him. “I’m trying to find a killer.”

When Julian flung back his head with a loud laugh and remarked, “Then I suppose you have come to the right place, haven’t you?,” the gloomy words lingered in the air between them.”