Chapter Two

Do you truly have a mental illness?”

A more frail spirit would have cowered in fear at being asked such a question by such an extraordinary specimen of a man in a near-roar, but Portia refused to take offense. After all, her brother-in-law didn’t really doubt her sanity on a regular basis. He had only ever done it once. She once trapped a hissing 600-year-old vampire at Lady Quattlebaum’s midsummer musicale during the bassoon interlude and kept him at bay with a violin bow until Adrian showed there with his crossbow. She also turned down two wealthy, attractive young noblemen who had just expressed an interest in marrying her.

If he had been yelling at her out of resentment rather than concern, Portia might have been more concerned. Nevertheless, she was convinced that Adrian would have loved her even more if she had been his sister rather than his wife’s child.

She was able to calmly glance up at him from the wing chair in front of the fireplace as he traversed the drawing room of his Mayfair home, scowling like an ogre and raking his fingers through his honey-colored hair till it bristled like a lion’s mane.

He turned around and poked her with a finger from the heel of one polished boot. “I still have all of my faculties, even if you might be at risk of going crazy,” he remarked. If you even for a moment imagine that I’ll permit you to put yourself in such great risk, you’re gravely mistaken.

She stated: “I have no intention of putting myself in any danger. Now that I’ve found your brother, all I want to do is have a civil conversation with him.

The eldest sister, Caroline, rose from the brocaded sofa and wrapped her arm around her husband. With her second pregnancy tummy just beginning to expand and her pale blond hair combed back into a neat chignon, she should have appeared tranquil, like Madonna. The humor and intelligence that twinkled in her gray eyes, however, gave her the appearance that she was anything from calm. “Adrian’s right, Pete. It’s just too risky. Don’t you remember what happened when you tried to help him before? You nearly died.

She was reminded by Portia that “he almost died.” I saved his life.

Portia only pursed her lips as Caroline and Adrian exchanged looks. She had never made it clear what had happened in that crypt more than six years earlier. She currently has no desire to do so.

I know you’ve spent a lot of sleepless nights worrying about Julian, Caroline said. “We all possess. You must nevertheless take into account the danger to your personal security " A slight threat didn’t deter you from Adrian when everyone believed he was a vampire. “There was one crucial distinction, in case you missed it. Julian might not even be the vampire you remember, to add to that. In the nearly six years after he departed, we haven’t heard from him for more than three. Not even a whisper or a letter. He didn’t contact us even after we told him that Eloisa had been born. Caroline noticed the young child with the pink cheeks and honey hair laughingly nibbling at the gold tassels on one of the sofa cushions. He ignored Adrian’s letter informing him that their mother had finally succumbed to consumption in Italy. He used to be the closest of brothers with Adrian. Why would he cut off all links to us if he hadn’t decided to give up on the quest for his soul?

Being sincere, Portia responded, “I’m not sure. But the only way to find out is to question him.

And why did he confide in you specifically? Adrian asked, his tan brows arched. because he’s always had a thing for beautiful girls? because he still has a tiny bit of sentimentality left despite living his entire life as a monster? a shred of humanity, maybe?

Portia held back from speaking. She had sensed a bond between them ever since their time in the tomb that words could not fully capture. Even if there had been, she knew she would be charged with catering to a young girl’s yearning for love.

Adrian squatted in front of the chair and turned to face her. Portia’s parents died in a carriage accident when she was only nine years old. When they got married, Adrian had happily welcomed Caroline into their house, never once suggesting that they send her to some repulsive family member like their lecherous cousin Cecil or their dull Aunt Marietta.

He seized one of his hands and wrapped both of hers in it, his blue-green eyes filled with dread. But I’m not completely blind. I am aware that you have been gathering weapons and making hidden preparations for years to help me fight vampires. On the other hand, kid, this is not your struggle. It’s mine.

He yanked her hands away from his. “I’m almost thirty years old, Adrian. I am no longer a child.

Then perhaps it’s time to stop acting foolishly and start paying attention to logic.

Portia would have much like to shout than hear his calm, collected tone. She wished she were wearing one of her favorite extravagant hats, which would have given her additional height, as she stood up, rising herself to her full height of five feet two inches. She answered stoically, “Well. If I’m going to stop acting like a child, I don’t need your permission or approval to seek out your brother’s company.

Adrian straightened and gently grabbed her shoulders. The plaintive tone in his voice was more menacing than any roar. Have you forgotten that there have been four deaths of women in the last two weeks? that after being utterly bloodless, their bodies were left to fester in the alleyways of Whitechapel and Charing Cross? For the past five years, efforts have been made to drive practically all vampires outside the boundaries of this metropolis. Do you really believe that Julian’s rumored return to London and the time of these murders were just coincidences?

She looked directly at him. Do you really think your own brother has the skills to commit such crimes?

He clenched fruitless fists at his sides as his hands escaped her grasp. What he might be capable of now is unknown to me. I hardly barely recognize him any more. Nevertheless, he is my brother. likewise my responsibility. If anyone wants to confront him about these deaths, I will. He gave Caroline another suspicious look. As soon as the sun rises, I’ll depart.

The following morning? Portia agreed. “while he sleeps? when he is weakest and most defenseless?”

Caroline made a trembling call for aid, but Portia just couldn’t seem to stop.

When you call in the morning, Adrian, I am completely aware of what happens to vampires. What weapons do you have with you then? the aid? the dangers? Are you a crossbow? You’ve killed a lot of vile demons with that particular weapon. It was fairly certain that Julian would someday feel its suffering.

Adrian gently stroked the burgundy velvet necklace that adorned her tiny throat. The sadness in his eyes made him appear much older than his 35 years. Instead of you or any other woman feeling his sting, it would be preferable for him to suffer mine.

Portia cast a quick glance at Caroline as he left the room, hoping without hope that she would see Caroline as an ally. She had, after all, once helped Caroline disprove the notion that Adrian was a horrible guy.

But Caroline only offered a headshake. Oh Portia, why do you have to make it even more difficult for him? She was referring to the vile vampire who had sucked Julian’s soul from him just before he passed away, turning Julian into a vampire. Julian might have found his soul long ago if Adrian hadn’t been forced to assassinate Duvalier in order to protect me. He wouldn’t have had to search for the vampire that gave birth to Duvalier. Adrian fought bravely to preserve the life of his sibling. What feelings do you think he is going through now that he is aware that he might have failed? Realizing that a mistake could have resulted in the suffering and death of innocent women?” She gave Portia one last accusing look before picking up her child and exiting the room with her husband. Eloisa peered over her mother’s shoulder, her own huge, gray eyes puzzled.

Portia sighed helplessly. She believed she had been naive to believe her family would be welcome the prodigal vampire home with open arms and hearts. Julian might be just as lost as they had feared, for all she knew.

That notion was, however, rejected by a small part of her heart, which also refused to believe that the man who had previously given her a nose operation and called her “Bright Eyes” could have taken those women’s lives and abandoned them in the alley like so much rotting rubbish.

She went to the window after pulling back the heavy velvet curtains. The day’s low light was already beginning to wane, leaving the large roadway bathed in the magnificent radiance of the snow. The moon’s thin crescent was visible in the open since the clouds had parted, albeit a few snowflakes were still whirling in the wind. Her sense of urgency grew as she glanced at the marble mantel clock. Julian and she were both running out of time.

She would need to complete it before daylight broke and Adrian set out in search of his brother—possibly for the last time—to disprove them all.

Julian Kane was currently more bothered by the discomfort of being soulless than he was by the discomfort of being sober. His swagger had begun as a stagger, but hunger and exhaustion had stolen its usual grace.

He turned his coat pockets inside out, but they were pitifully empty. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to abandon Cuthbert so soon at his father’s Cavendish Square apartment.

What, Kane, have you done to my boy now? The old man, wearing his nightcap, stuck his head out of an upper window and shouted. Cubby had been secretly keeping track of his expenditures related to the earl’s prized azalea bushes. My Cuthbert was a good lad until he started running with people like you. Satan’s children!

Julian had lovingly handed Cubby’s struggling mass to a footman before bowing to the lord. “Good evening to you both, my lord.”

The old guy waved his withered fist at Julian with such vigor Julian was afraid he would fall out the window and crack his foolish head.

Julian was sighing at the memory as his gloved fingers made their way through a tear in the silk lining of his coat pocket. One dull shilling was withheld, and it was raised in the air.

He grunted, “Adrian always believed I had the devil’s luck.

However, he sadly realized that on this particular day, it was the devil who had been unlucky. Wallingford’s pistol would have been discharged precisely as the old goat waited at the gates of Hell, tapping his cloven paw in anticipation.

It’s odd that the event brought a breath of happiness rather than the scent of hellfire. The ethereal presence of this perfume was not new to him. It had once followed him into a narrow alley in Cairo, drowning out the exotic aromas of cumin and turmeric. It had penetrated the soot-stained window of a Paris garret, burning him with hunger. His stomach tightened with sorrow for a home he would never know even if his nostrils were still filled with the scent of burning and blood on a battlefield in Burma from which he had gotten a whiff on the breeze.

It bore no relation to the perfumes of gardenia and jasmine worn by the women who so often fed and comforted him. This lovely soap-and-rosemary aroma, which combined purity and attractiveness into an alluring mixture, was on a young woman’s skin. A young woman sat across from him, turning the pages of his pianoforte music while her dark, silky curls caressed his cheek. She then grinned slyly in his direction.

Julian had to force himself, like he had done so many times before, to ruthlessly remove the vision. He tossed the coin to the opposing hand and sauntered through the falling night. Even if he can only afford one hand of cards, he might be able to make a beautiful woman feel bad for him.

Turning up the collar of his greatcoat to block the chilly snowflakes, he crossed the street and snuck into one of the Covent Garden gambling establishments seedy enough to welcome someone like him.

In reality, Julian’s luck was the absolute worst. He was positioned in front of a sizable wins pile at the brag table less than two hours later. He had used a deadly combination of charm, cunning, and knowledge to turn that one shilling into a sparkling stack of coins and pound bills. Even though Wallingford’s threats of debtor’s prison didn’t work for more than a day, it was enough to ensure that he wouldn’t be spending the night by himself.

or starving.

He lovingly stroked the lower back of the dark-haired, sloe-eyed beauty sitting on his knee while the golden-haired minx, who had thrown herself over his shoulders like an ermine stole, cast him an envious glance. The inexpensive lavender water she had used to get rid of the smell of the previous gambler she had carried upstairs nearly swamped him every time he turned his head.

The other three men at the table looked, unable to hide their feelings of hope as his pale fingers nonchalantly brushed over the cards, fanning them out to reveal yet another winning hand.

A man sighed, while another man threw his cards to the floor out of annoyance. Kane: “Damn everything! Your luck is simply miraculous.

Julian remarked, “So they tell me,” as the men snatched up their walking sticks and beaver top hats and walked away from the table, leaving behind them more than a week’s worth of wages.

Julian carelessly massaged the brunette’s rounded hip while sitting in his chair with his long legs spread wide. He combed through the cloud of cigar and cheroot smoke in search of his next victims. Most clubbers had used up their welcomes and credit at the better spots like White’s and Boodle’s. A definite aura of desperation clung to them, like what Julian had seen in the hashish and opium dens of Istanbul and Bangkok. Their fingers twitched, and their eyes sparkled as they anticipated the next play. It shouldn’t be too difficult for him to lure the stupid son of some poor lord, two overworked merchants, and another trader into his trap.

“Guv’nor, why don’t ye set down the cards and play with me for a while,” the brunette crooned as she inched closer to his lap.

The blonde leaned over his shoulder and poured him another glass of port from the half-empty bottle on the table. She rubbed her huge breasts over the musculature of his upper arm, blinking fawn colored eyelids at him. “Luv, if you play your cards right, you can win the both of us for the night.”

As he swung around on his chair, Julian He wasn’t quite ready to leave the table, despite the fact that their efforts were undoubtedly agitating the situation. He implored, “My dear, be patient.” If I abandon her in a cold, empty bed when she’s still warm and willing, I’ll be damned. My sole mistress right now is luck. The blonde bit at his earlobe in protest as he gave the brunette a long, passionate kiss on her reddened lips.

Someone’s throat was cleared.

The strong tone of displeasure in the sound only just kept Julian from jerking to attention like a guilty schoolboy up to mischief. A woman could be seen standing near to the chair in front of him as he cautiously turned around.

His eyes shifted from the burgundy of her velvet pelisse with the mink trimming to the feathered hat perched atop her upswept coils of shining sable hair as he corrected himself, “No, not a woman, but a lady.” A bulging satin handbag dangling from her arm had its mouth covered by ribbons that were securely drawn shut. The shabby finery worn by the majority of the club’s patrons stood in stark contrast to the excellent cut and quality of her clothing. She was protected by what seemed to be a dazzling halo from the cigar smoke and noisy laughing that filled the room. From the corner of his eye, Julian could see that she was already attracting other glances—some curious, some wary, and yet others brazenly predatory.

Her kind has been seen around here previously. wealthy woman with a ravenous appetite for real play. Because the fair sex wasn’t even permitted at the more prestigious clubs that their husbands frequented, they were forced to seek fulfillment in places like this hell. They were prepared to gamble both their reputations and their financial futures on a single errant roll of the dice or card because they were so enthralled by the excitement of the game.

Frequently, a lady would play until she had spent every last coin in her pocketbook, leaving her with little choice but to settle her debts. Julian couldn’t stand the thought of forcing this woman to go upstairs with some smug gambler for some reason. He couldn’t bear the idea of forcing her to her knees and taking off that hideous bonnet with his clumsy hands.

The net veil that was attached to the wide brim of her hat and cast shadows across her eyes gave her a seductive air of mystery. All that he could see were a pair of full lips that were intended for kissing and other, even more sinister pleasures, the curvature of a cheek with a dimple, and a pointed chin that suggested a face with a heart shape.

The necklace made of burgundy velvet that she was wearing, her long, graceful throat, and the spot where a pulse that was just visible to the naked eye danced to each pounding beat of her heart gradually caught his eyes as he battled to take them away from her mouth. Julian jerked his glance away before he could admit how peckish he was. Even though he knew it was a poor substitute for what he was desiring, he placed the glass to his lips and took a drink of the port. She asked in a deep, rich voice, “Could I speak with you briefly?

The brunette threw a lazy glance at her before he could respond, “Ye ought to address ‘im as’sir’!”

I became a knight after being knighted by the King himself. a real hero

The blonde groaned, “My ‘ero,” as she ran her scarlet nails through the straight strands of his chest hair and sank a hand into the slit in his shirt.

Those lovely lips tensed with contempt. Or another emotion that Julian found difficult to comprehend.

“Excellent, sir. I was wondering if I may have a word with you,” she repeated, ignoring his friends in a mocking manner. “In secret.”

It was the most intriguing offer he had heard all evening. She must want more from the game than just the rush. In almost every city in the world, he had also run into people of her kind. Women who had the same evil yearning as him. Women who were aware of him and actively sought out such animals, pursuing peril and death as though they were the most accomplished of lovers.

I’m sorry, Miss, but I’m afraid I can’t help you. He mutely cursed the ghost of his scruples. As you can see, I’m already busy, as you can see,” he said, sliding his hand from the brunette’s hip to the gentle curve of her leg.

The brunette responded, “You’d better hurry back to yer nice carriage, m’lady.” A large wolf like this one would devour you whole.

The golden-haired woman wrapped his neck in her arms. Not a lady, a woman is what ‘E needs.

The brunette answered, “Or two women,” drawing a throaty chuckle from her partner.

Julian drank more port to ease his regret and waited for the woman to turn around and run into the night.

Instead, the most adorable smile was formed by those plump lips. “I truly hate to have to impose, but I really must deny you such entertaining company.”

Julian cast a quick glance around the club, conscious that their conversation was starting to draw more than passing attention. “A woman like you has no place here. Why don’t you leave your husband’s bed without him noticing and head home before he wakes up? Before giving her his iciest, most menacing glare that had been known to stop grown men in their tracks, he arched the dark wing of one brow. “I’m afraid you’ll only have regrets if you stay,” she said.

Her smile was fading as she raised her chin. Do you intend to harm me, sir?

“You can consider that as a warning, if you’d like.”

What happens if I decide not to heed your advice?

Then you’re a bloody little fool,” he added, using foul language without apologizing.

“Until I receive what I came here for, I won’t go. I’ve come to get what you owe me. She reached up with shaky hands and pulled off her bonnet, revealing the tiny breach in her resolve.

For a brief moment, Julian almost felt relieved that he was a vampire because it took an extraordinary effort to maintain his face trained in indifference. Without a question, she was the most stunning woman he had ever seen. Her head was covered in sable curls, and her eyes were the same deep blue color as the Aegean Sea at midnight. Her brows were arched gracefully, and she had implausibly thick lashes surrounding them. Her face had delicate bones that were wide at the cheek and narrow at the chin. It appeared as though a rose petal had been softly dusted over her satiny skin on those cheeks, which were blessed with a trace of natural color. All the costliest powders and rouges in the world couldn’t match the natural sophistication she exuded. A man might have wondered if she was laughing with him or at him because of the small upward tilt of her mouth.

And as he stood before this embodiment of feminine beauty, Julian’s only thought was that she should have put her darned hat back on. Her look was too direct since she didn’t have the veil to cover them. Too difficult. overly blue He scrambled to his feet, nearly knocking the sputtering brunette to the ground, desperate to be away from her presence for reasons even he couldn’t understand.

Before placing it to his lips, he rubbed the remainder of the port around the inside of the glass. He said, giving the term an unmistakable emphasis, “You can’t be one of my creditors, my dear, for I’m sure I’d recall dunning someone as charming as you. I don’t even owe you the time of day if you are not one of my debtors, therefore I advise you move out of my way.

He grabbed the brunette’s hand and moved toward the stairs after firmly thumping the glass back down on the table.

“Mr. Kane, that’s where you’re mistaken.” She reached up, ripped off the velvet choker this time with steady fingers, and threw it on the table like it were a gamble he could never hope to win.

Julian stopped still in his tracks, transfixed by the beauty of that throat. She should have had a throat that was as smooth and faultless as the rest of her, but unfortunately it had two obvious puncture wounds that had left faded scars.

Julian realized his luck had finally run out as he raised his doubtful glance to meet Portia Cabot’s determined blue eyes.