She shivered at the mention of the warlock's name. "Let us hurry."
It took the last of his strength to will them home. Inside the front door, he dropped to his hands and knees, then rolled onto his side. He closed his eyes, panting heavily. But it didn't matter. Brenna was safe now. Nothing else mattered.
Brenna knelt beside him. There was a hideously ugly red mark around his neck. His chest and belly were covered with blisters. The skin on his wrists and ankles was raw and angry looking.
Choking back her tears, she stroked his brow. "What can I do? How can I help?"
He lifted one hand. "Get these off me."
With a nod, she ran upstairs to her room. Grabbing the wand she had finished only days ago, she hurried back to Roshan's side. Clutching the wand she focused on the manacle on his right hand.
"Rimuova!"
There was a soft click, and the manacle fell to the floor. She repeated the spell on his left hand and each ankle, then kicked the shackles aside.
She touched his chest with her fingertips, jerked her hand away when he winced at her touch. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked, wishing she had some aloe to apply to the burns.
With an effort, he opened his eyes. "I'll be all right in a few days. If Loken tries to come here, the wards should keep him out. If I don't rise tomorrow night, don't worry… "
Her eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
"The Dark Sleep heals me. I may not awake at sunset." He rolled onto his knees then sat back on his heels and cupped her face in his hands. "Not much of a honeymoon, Mrs. DeLongpre," he murmured. "I'm sorry."
"We will just have to wait a few days." She looked at him, her worry evident in her eyes. "Maybe you should go downstairs and rest."
He nodded. "Will you be all right?"
"I am not afraid."
"You're not a very good liar, either," he said with a faint smile. "I love you."
"I love you."
He kissed her, a quick brush of his lips across hers, and then he opened the door to his lair and disappeared into the darkness beyond.
Anthony Loken stared at the empty table in disbelief. The vampire couldn't have escaped the chains. It was impossible. Everyone knew silver rendered the undead weak and helpless. Yet the fact remained that the creature was nowhere in sight.
A shiver slid down Loken's spine. The vampire was far more powerful than he had imagined! And then, stroking the vial in his pocket, he smiled. There was nothing to fear. All it meant was that once he had injected the vampire's blood into his own veins, he would be even stronger than he had hoped. But first he had two more tests to perform.
Glancing over his shoulder, he gestured for the young man and woman to enter the lab.
The girl stared in horror at the body laid out on the table against the far wall. Had she been able, he was certain she would have run screaming from the room, but her mind and her will were no longer her own.
Lifting the body, Loken placed it on the floor in the corner and covered it with a sheet. He would have to dispose of it soon, he thought irritably. It was starting to stink.
When both of his subjects were in place on their respective tables, he removed two vials from the tray. He injected the man with the first vial, held the second to the woman's lips and commanded her to drink. She stared at him, helpless to resist, her eyes wide with fear and revulsion. Almost, he felt sorry for her.
Standing between the two tables, Loken watched them intently. In moments, they were both shrieking and writhing in pain. In a matter of minutes, they were both dead, their skin gray and shriveled, their eyes wide and frightened, even in death.
Rage exploded through Loken. A swipe of his hand swept the tray from the counter. The vials shattered on the cement floor. Blood sprayed across the room, painting the walls with streaks of crimson.
With a wordless cry, he drove his fist into the wall once, twice, three times. Pain exploded through his knuckles and up his arm, bringing him back to his senses. Pulling his handkerchief from his back pocket, he wrapped it around his bleeding knuckles. Perhaps he was overreacting. Maybe his first theory had been right after all. Perhaps the deaths of these two subjects just proved that the blood mixture he had used on Brenna was only effective on witches and therefore perfectly safe for him to use on himself.
Looking at the mess on the floor, he swore again. He had just destroyed all the blood samples he had.
Hands clenched at his side, he took a deep calming breath. He had captured the vampire once, he could do it again. He would draw the remaining blood from the first corpse and refrigerate it, then he would dispose of all three bodies. When that was done, he would do the remaining tests on the witch.
It was while he was sweeping up the broken glass that he found a single unbroken vial of the vampire's blood.
Smiling, he tucked the glass tube in his coat pocket. All was not lost.
Brenna sat on the sofa in front of the fire with Morgana curled up at her side. It was early morning, but Brenna couldn't sleep. She had taken a long hot bath, hoping it would relax her, and then gone to bed, but sleep wouldn't come. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Anthony Loken standing over her, a maniacal gleam in his eyes as he jabbed a needle into a vein in her arm, a needle filled with Roshan's blood and the blood of a dead man. The thought sent a shiver of revulsion down her spine.
Where was Loken now? Had he returned home and found her gone? Would he come after her again?
Earlier, she had gone through Roshan's house, making sure all the doors and windows were closed and locked. She had drawn all the curtains, shutting out the night.
And now she sat here, clad in her gown and robe, staring into the flames, listening to the soft sound of the rain on the roof. Had it not been for Loken, she would have been outside, enjoying the storm, perhaps dancing under the clouds. She jumped as thunder rumbled overhead.
Morgana lifted her head, her yellow eyes glowing in the light of the fire.
Brenna sighed, wishing that Roshan were there beside her. She wouldn't be afraid if he were here, though she doubted he would be capable of protecting himself against Loken, let alone the two of them. Roshan had said there was nothing to worry about, that he would heal in a couple of days.
Did they have a couple of days? Would she ever feel safe anywhere again?
What if Anthony Loken was searching for the two of them, even now? If he was as powerful a warlock as he appeared to be, he would have no trouble finding them. All he needed was something that had belonged to one of them: an item of clothing, a strand of hair, a drop of blood. A simple spell would lead him straight to this place. Her only hope was that the wards Roshan had set around the house and the grounds were strong enough to repel whatever spell the warlock conjured.