My Lord Eternity (Immortal Rogues #2)(49)

Allowing his battered body to sink to the floor, he fumbled to find the dagger he had dropped. For a horrid moment he thought perhaps it had tumbled out of reach, then his seeking fingers closed around the smooth hilt. Without hesitation he struck out.

The vampire-blessed blade easily slid through the misty form, making it cringe backward. Not about to lose his chance, Lucien struck again and again, his ears painfully pierced by the high inhuman screech of the wraith.

With a last desperate attempt the wraith struck out, knocking Lucien's head fiercely against the door. Darkness threatened, but with grim determination he held on, striking out with more haste than skill.

At last there was a high wail and then in the blink of an eye the mist wraith was reluctantly retreating.

For moments Lucien lay gasping upon the floor. His entire body trembled from the lingering wounds and his last desperate effort to rid himself of the wraith. In the hall he could still hear the calls of Meg but he was unable to move enough to allow her in.

At last he dragged himself to his knees and sucked in deep, shuddering breaths. There was no time. He had to act. And he had to act swiftly.

Using the doorknob he forced himself shakily to his feet and then wrenched the door open.

The housekeeper tumbled into the room, her round face gray with fear.

"What the devil is going on up here?" she demanded in weak anger. "There was some sort of smoke coming through the door."

"I have no time to explain. I must go after Miss Kingly."

"Go after? Where has she gone?"

"She has been kidnapped."

There was a loud gasp. "Dear God."

"Do not fear, I shall soon have her home," he swore in low tones.

Meg regarded him with narrowed eyes, seemingly noticing for the first time his rumpled appearance and unnaturally pale countenance.

"You do not appear well yourself, Mr. Valin. Perhaps we should call for the authorities."

He gave a firm shake of his head. "No. I must do this on my own. But you might wish to have a hot bath and warm supper prepared for when we return."

"And a nice bottle of brandy," she added in firm tones.

"Yes." He gave a weak smile before pushing himself from the door and making his way down the steps.

He paused only long enough to collect the necessary money to rent a mount before he was out of the house and on his way to the nearby stables. He did not allow himself to contemplate what Amadeus might even now be doing to Jocelyn, or even what he would do when he eventually caught up with them. His only concern was catching up to them as swiftly as possible.

In less than half an hour he had his horse and was on the faint trail of the carriage. It came as no surprise when he discovered himself being led out of London and down a narrow trail that appeared rarely used. Amadeus would have shrewdly discovered a place of privacy to attempt to coerce the Medallion from Jocelyn. He would never act in a hasty or impulsive manner.

Dawn was not far off when at last he turned from the trail and crossed through a heavy copse of trees. Carefully making his way through the underbrush, he abruptly stumbled into a clearing.

In the very center was an abandoned castle that had long ago fallen into disrepair. It would have been easy to presume that the ruin was empty, except that someone had quite recently taken the effort to board over the narrow windows.

And, of course, the unmistakable tingle of awareness that assured Lucien that a vampire was nearby.

Returning his mount to the cover of the trees, he tied off the reins and carefully turned to make his way to the castle. He was relieved to discover that Amadeus had not thought to bring any of his henchmen to act as guards, and he easily gained entrance through the heavy door.

With silent steps he made his way through the small vestibule and moved to the nearby steps that led to the cellars below. With dagger in hand he inched his way downward, the sense of both Amadeus and Jocelyn growing stronger with every step.

At last entering the cellars, he was abruptly halted as a loud scratch echoed through the air and a light bloomed to life. Standing in the center of the room, Amadeus glared at him in undisguised hatred.

"Lucien," the vampire rasped, the eyes glittering with a dangerous desperation. "What an unpleasant surprise. I thought you would be nicely disposed of by now."

Nonchalantly strolling forward, Lucien cast a covert glance about the clammy chamber.

Along one wall were several dusty barrels and a rack that once held wine bottles. Farther away he could see an array of manacles, chains, whips, and more exotic instruments of torture that he could not even begin to name. His stomach tightened as his gaze at last discovered the narrow wooden table in a dark alcove where Jocelyn lay stretched on the surface with her arms tied above her head and her legs tightly bound together.

Although disheveled, she did not appear to be harmed, and allowing himself only a brief glance at her terrified countenance, he ruthlessly forced his attention back to the furious Amadeus.

There was no time to assure himself that she was well and unharmed, he reminded himself grimly.

Not until she was free of Amadeus's clutches.

"You have crossed all boundaries, Amadeus," he growled in disgust. "Mist wraiths have been forbidden by all vampires. Do you possess no shame?"

The vampire offered Lucien an oddly haunted smile at the accusation. "Very little, I have discovered."