“Very well.”
“Make sure you get all the sustenance you need before we come back. I will need you to be focused.”
Elliot smirked. “You’re worried I might drink from them?”
“When I said sustenance, I wasn’t talking about blood.”
Chapter 18
They walked as far as Clarges Street and Alexander suddenly stopped. “Perhaps I should call on Miss Bromwell. Her house is a few minutes from here. I’ll tell her what we’ve discovered about the Sutherbys.”
Elliot smirked. “Are you certain that’s the only reason you wish to call? Perhaps the sight of the Sutherbys amorous display has left you craving a certain form of stimulation. I know I won’t be going straight home.” He jerked his head up to the night’s inky expanse. “You’ll not have long until dawn, so you’ll need to be quick. Mind you don’t get too distracted.”
Alexander nodded. “I’ll call on you tomorrow evening, and we’ll decide what to do about Sutherby.”
Elliot was right. Telling Eve about Sutherby was not the only reason for his visit. After their interlude in the garden, he was desperate to see her, to know she was well, to know she had no regrets. This craving that consumed him was like a delicious form of madness. The few hours since their separation felt like days. If he hurried, he’d have time to make it home before the sun’s scalding rays singed his skin.
Following the route through the mews, he entered her garden and sat down beneath the cherry tree before focusing his thoughts and calling out to her. If her revelation about struggling to sleep was true, he knew his silent endearments would rouse her easily.
While he waited, he stared up at the night sky, the memory of his first night as a monster coming back to haunt him.
The images always came as fragments, like the jumbled parts of a torn picture, brief flashes that had taken time to piece together.
He remembered lying on the bed, the vixen’s sharp fangs piercing his skin. A coldness enveloped him. He woke to find himself lying on the forest floor. Glancing down at his attire, he realised he was wearing the same clothes he’d worn in the tavern and had almost laughed at the thought it had all been a drunken dream.
But his dream soon turned into a nightmare.
The clawing pangs of hunger refused to be tempered, and he’d stumbled towards the road in search of help. A man driving a cart stopped to offer assistance, berating him for wandering the woods at night when there were wolves roaming aplenty. He’d offered to take him to the nearest village, made the assumption he was just another rich lord, lost after an evening of bawdy pleasure.
Oh, he was lost — lost to the night that had so cruelly claimed him.
Even in the dark, Alexander could see the vein in the peasant’s neck pulse. As he sat next to him on the crude seat, he stared at it, transfixed by the rhythmical throbbing. The sound mimicked the ticking of a clock. Each beat, each passing second, drawing him closer until his teeth ached — until they protruded further from his gums.
He drank from the man while he lay writhing and screaming, retching up the first mouthful of blood even before it had hit his stomach. Thankfully, he’d stopped before any lasting damage was done.
And so a monster was born.
He’d never drunk from another human, sworn he never would.
“This is a surprise.” Eve’s soft voice penetrated the nightmare.
Alexander stood abruptly, shook his head and focused on the vision of beauty before him. “You heard my call,” he said trying to suppress the feeling of melancholy that always accompanied painful memories. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
Without a word, she ran into his arms. He hugged her tightly, kissed the top of her head as a way of soothing his own sorry soul.
“I heard your voice, and it brought me here,” she said cuddling into him. She felt warm, smelled of clean linen and rosewater.
“I wanted to check you were alright, after what happened between us.”
It was the first time in his life he’d given a damn.
She looked up at him and smiled. “Do not feel as though you’ve taken advantage of me. Everything that has occurred between us has happened because I wanted it to.”
The warmth in his chest journeyed south towards his groin, and he wondered how he would cope if she walked away from him. With every ounce of his being, he wanted to tell her what she meant to him, but the fear of rejection loomed large. What future was there for her? He should tell her his secret, but he couldn’t bear to talk about it tonight, not after reliving his nightmare. Not when he felt so akin to the monster inside.
With nothing to say, he chose to pour his heart into a kiss that was deep and tender. He kissed her as though he was dying and the touch of her lips was to be his lasting memory. He kissed her as though he had waited a thousand years for the pleasure.
The urge to thrust inside was soon upon him, and he broke away with a muttered curse.