At that moment, he looked every bit as capable as that.
She looked at the other man, standing near the fireplace, and realized that it wasn’t a man at all. Simply a woman dressed as a man.
“You must be Narcise Moldavi,” she said, looking at her. “The vampire.”
The woman swept away the wide-brimmed hat that had shadowed her face, and Angelica saw at once that she had been a fool to believe this woman was a man. She was beautiful— the most beautiful woman Angelica had ever seen.
What she’d originally perceived as gauntness in the harsh shadows was instead a lovely face with high cheekbones and sculpted lips. Her hair, pinned up and yet sagging now with the removal of the hat, was coal-black. Her skin… Angelica had never seen such porcelain skin—smooth and white and delicate. The gaze that swept to fasten on her was startlingly blue.
“I am,” Narcise replied in a voice nearly as low as a man’s. Now without her hat, and her gender acknowledged, it was obvious that the white shirtwaist and loose coat were meant to hide her shape.
“Are you here so that we can welcome you to the family?” Angelica responded. She didn’t try to hide her disdain and disapproval, and the woman noticed. Her eyes flared hot and red for a moment, then subsided to blue.
“I’m here, in fact, endangering my person, only because of you,” replied the vampire in an even voice.
Chas shot Angelica a warning look that did nothing to quell the horror that her brother could possibly have fallen in love with a bloodthirsty, violent vampire woman. Seeing Narcise, Angelica couldn’t imagine any man not falling in love with her. Yet…how could he? She was…unnatural.
At that point, Chas would likely have spoken, but Narcise stepped away from the fireplace and walked over to help herself to a glass of Corvindale’s whiskey. As she did so, she spoke. “Your brother learned that Voss had abducted you and he insisted on coming to London, despite the danger to me.”
“You know very well you didn’t have to come to London with him,” came a new voice from the doorway. “Don’t blame your own cowardice on the girl, Narcise.”
Angelica whirled to see another, vaguely familiar man striding into the study. He was shedding his own hat, which exposed a head of thick, curling dark hair and a handsome, strong-jawed face. The flaps and hem of his coat fluttered behind him as he stalked over to stand near Maia. His expression was blank, but she fancied she saw a fire in his eyes.
Narcise shot the newcomer a violent look, complete with what Angelica was certain was a flash of fangs, then walked over to stand next to Chas. The air in the room tightened and no one spoke. The silence stretched for what seemed like a long time.
“Miss Woodmore, Angelica, meet my friend Mr. Giordan Cale.” It was Corvindale who spoke abruptly, at last, from his seat in the corner.
“Chas, what in heaven’s name is going on here?” Maia demanded. Angelica could almost hear what she didn’t say: And who are all these people? And why didn’t you warn me so I could dress properly?
“I’ve been attempting to tell you,” Chas replied mildly. “And I will…if we aren’t going to have any further interruptions?” He glanced at Narcise, but it wasn’t a look of reproach as much as it was one of affection. Angelica pressed her lips together.
“You’re taking us home,” Maia said. “Tomorrow?”
Narcise shifted, and so did Chas. “I’m afraid that’s impossible right now,” he said.
“What do you mean? You’re back. There’s no reason for us to stay here any longer,” Maia said. The emphasis on the word here was not lost on Angelica, and she couldn’t help but glance at Corvindale—who was clearly the cause of that tone.
“Don’t disappoint the girl, Chas,” the earl said. “Take her home.” Then he glanced at Cale. “Or perhaps Giordan would take on governess duties?”
Cale snorted and Angelica saw humor flare in his face. “I wouldn’t dream of depriving you, Dimitri.” His smile was both feral and filled with humor.
“Gentlemen,” Chas said, holding up his hands. Improperly gloveless, which Angelica was certain Maia would notice. He looked at his sisters, a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there earlier. “I’m sorry, but I cannot take you back home. I cannot even be seen in London, and there can’t be any hint or rumor that I’ve come back. For Narcise’s sake. I’m taking a great risk by being here.”
“I don’t understand,” Maia said. “Then why did you come?”
“To get Angelica away from Voss—although that has already occurred—and to kill the bastard.”
Maia gasped at the use of profanity, and it was all Angelica could do not to roll her eyes. They were in a chamber, dressed in their nightclothes, with a vampire and two strange men. An off-color word was the least of their worries.
“That’s what I do,” Chas said, stepping away from where he’d been leaning on the desk. “I might as well tell you now, so you understand.”
Angelica frowned, but before she could speak, her brother continued. “I kill vampires. Some of them, at any rate,” he added with a sidewise glance at Narcise and then Corvindale. “Only the ones who endanger humans.”
“What are you talking about?” Maia said. Her voice was faint and Angelica felt a little sorry for her. Between the profanity and their casual state of undress, her very proper sister seemed out of her element. No surprise: she wasn’t in control. And Maia, for all she might desire it, hadn’t been bit by a vampire—or even come in close proximity to one.
Chas gestured toward Angelica. “You were blessed, or cursed, with Granny Grapes’s Sight. And so is Sonia. I’ve discovered my own ability, courtesy of that same Romanian heritage. I can do something vampires can’t even do. I can sense the presence of one…identify them, even if I don’t know them.”
“Oh,” was all Angelica could say. And then she realized what he’d said. “You do this all the time? You kill vampires? Isn’t it—” she glanced at Narcise, who was looking at her as if she were a toad “—dangerous?”
“Of course it’s dangerous,” Maia put in. “Don’t you recall the stories Granny used to tell us? About the vampires, and the men who hunted… Oh.” She looked at Chas. “That’s how you knew? What to do?”