And then he'd gone directly from Narcise to Rubey.
From kissing Narcise, devouring her, filling his hands with her...to Rubey. The whoremistress.
Rage flushed through her, and for the first time in weeks, her Mark eased into painlessness. Narcise closed her eyes and fed it, submerged herself in the darkness of anger.
And then, just as quickly as it had come, the fury eased into something more devastating. Pain.
I loved you.
Had he really? She scoffed to herself, tried to push away the memory of his face...tonight and on that horrible day when he'd come to her afterward. Smelling of Cezar.
The starkness in his eyes had been the same then as it had tonight: deep and complete. Raw.
Narcise rose abruptly and began to pace the chamber, propelled by fear and hurt. If he'd loved her, why, why, had he done what he'd done? How could he?
How could he have imagined she'd accept him after he'd betrayed her? Any betrayal would have killed her, after what she'd experienced...but for it to be with a man...and her brother...how? How could he have thought she'd forget that?
Was it just his Draculean nature? To seek pleasure wherever it was offered? To focus on self, and only self?
Of course it was.
She was precisely the same way. The way Lucifer had turned them.
She couldn't stay here any longer. She had to have air-clean air, not breaths tainted by his scent. She wanted to be back out beneath the open sky, the stars and clouded moon. She wanted to feel that power again, that confidence and worth of self from earlier tonight, before Giordan had ruined it.
Dismissing her disheveled and dirty clothing, she strode quickly and silently to the chamber door and peered out into the corridor. It was empty, and she slipped out for the second time that night, closing the door behind her and walking down the hall toward what she recalled was the front entrance. Giordan's essence lingered, along with that of Chas and Dimitri and even Voss, she thought, but she ignored it and kept walking.
Chas would worry, but he'd have to learn that she could take care of herself. And she was furious with him as well, for lying to her. Keeping information from her. Trying to protect her.
She was Cezar's greatest fear? How had she never known that?
What could that mean?
Sonia Woodmore had to be mistaken. Her Sight had to be wrong.
How could Cezar fear her when he'd had her under his control all of the time?
Narcise was just passing the door to some parlor or chamber when she heard Chas's voice. "Of course we're not going to tell Narcise. She might agree to it." She froze.
"Do you think that's wise?" replied a mellow voice that she was certain belonged to Voss. "Perhaps she-"
"You aren't going to tell me what?" she demanded, flinging the door open. "Did you not learn anything?" she added, her voice cold as she stared at Chas.
Of the five people in the room, four faces had turned to her, and she realized with a horrid start that the fifth person was not staring at her at all because it was Giordan. He was looking down, even as the rest of the occupants of the room stared in chagrin.
And she dared not look at him, not when she knew where he'd been and what he'd been doing...not when his bloodscent lingered in the air. Not when her mouth watered at the aroma of it, and when she remembered the feel of his body against hers...only hours ago.
Instead she focused on Chas, whose countenance had gone tight with dismay. He rose from his seat. "Come in, Narcise. Apparently you are going to be told the news."
Aside of Chas and Giordan, Dimitri was in the chamber, of course, as well as Voss. And, to Narcise's mild surprise, Maia Woodmore was there as well, sitting next to Dimitri on a sofa. Much closer than was proper for a ward to be sitting next to her guardian.
Unlike her younger sister Angelica's had been when they met in Dimitri's study some months ago, Maia's expression when she looked at Narcise was not one of accusation nor of distaste. It was only mildly curious and laced with concern.
"And so all of you are discussing me, and I'm not invited to the conversation?" Narcise said, looking for a safe place to sit. Chas gestured to the chair he'd just vacated, but she ignored him.
Giordan was in a different seat off to the right, and Voss was in a chair next to Dimitri. There was a space on the sofa next to Maia, and that was where Narcise went. She sat, her back rigid as she tried to keep her thoughts from colliding with each other and her mind clear.
"We've received a message from your brother," said Dimitri. "I thought it best if we informed Chas immediately."
"I said you should be told," Maia said to Narcise. "I would want to know if my brother was doing something like this." She slanted a sidewise glance at Chas and gave a little sniff.
"Maia," Dimitri said, giving her a mildly exasperated look-mild for him, anyway-and said to Narcise, "The message arrived at Blackmont Hall earlier today via blood pigeon."
Taking care not to glance at Giordan, who sat just beyond Dimitri, Narcise turned her full attention to the formidable earl. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw the blood staining Giordan's white shirt, and the elegant shape of his wrist, settled casually on the arm of his chair. "Are you going to tell me what the message contained?"
"Napoleon Bonaparte is going to invade England in three days," he replied with characteristic bluntness. "And your brother promises to send his own army of made vampires with the emperor's mortal soldiers, to wreak havoc on this country."
"He said they'd find the children," Maia Woodmore added, her delicate face grave. "And take them."
"Maia," Dimitri snapped. "Blast it, I should have left you home."
"Then I would have just found the way on my own, Gavril," she replied. "At least we only needed one carriage this way."
"You promised you wouldn't interfere," Dimitri said from between clenched teeth.
"I did nothing of the sort. You demanded I promise that, but I certainly didn't. If I weren't here, none of you would tell Narcise the whole of it," the woman returned. "How can she make a decision without knowing all of it?"
"A decision?" said Narcise. "What sort of decision?" Her heart was pounding now and she felt an unpleasant twisting in her middle.
"About whether you'll go back to him," said Giordan, breaking his silence.
Quiet descended over the chamber.
"Narcise," Chas said after a moment. "You can understand why we thought not to tell you."
"No," she replied through stiff lips. Giordan had shifted in his chair, and now he was looking at Chas. "No, I do not. What did you intend to do about it, since you didn't plan to tell me?"