My Lord Eternity (Immortal Rogues #2)(51)

Amadeus lifted his brows at Lucien's gracious words. "While Miss Kingly flees to the protection of Gideon and Sebastian? I think not."

"Not even one drink to toast my soon-to-be demise?" Lucien prodded with a smile. "I have a very fine spirit in London if you would care to wait here while I retrieve it."

As expected, the morose vampire gave a sniff of disdain at his levity. He had always condemned Lucien for his lack of proper dignity, seemingly offended by anyone who did not share his sullen darkness.

"Frivolous to the end, eh, Lucien?" he snarled.

Lucien smiled. "It is preferable to your grim lack of humor."

Spreading his arms wide, Amadeus called upon his powers and began slowly to change into mist.

"We shall see if you are still laughing when I have finished with you," he mocked in hollow tones.

Lucien tightly gripped the dagger and called upon his fading strength.

"We will, indeed," he muttered, wincing as the mist struck out to cut deeply into his arm.

Jocelyn's hands were raw and bleeding as she struggled to pull open the shutters that had been firmly nailed shut.

When she had fled the cellars, she had made it outside the gloomy castle and halfway to the nearby trees, when she staggered to a halt. She wanted to run. To hasten to the trees and find the awaiting horse so that she could return to the sanity of London.

Quite frankly she was terrified.

She had never been so agonizingly frightened in her life.

The ghastly Amadeus had devoted the past hour to revealing precisely how he would torture her. He had spoken of horrors beyond her imagination and pain she could never endure. For a time she had thought she might actually go mad from sheer fear.

Who could possibly blame her for seeking safety? She was no match for a vampire. And as Lucien had said, the Medallion must be kept out of the traitor's hands. Nothing was more important.

This was not her battle. She should do as Lucien demanded and seek out Gideon Ravel to protect her.

But even as she had stumbled out the door, she had known she could not leave Lucien behind.

How could she? Whatever he was, whatever falsehood he had told her, she loved him. She loved him with a force that nearly consumed her.

If he was to die, then her own life would be meaningless.

And beyond that there was a rebellious part of her heart that condemned her cowardly flight.

No.

She would not be forced into walking away.

Not on this occasion, she suddenly told herself.

She had allowed herself to be humiliated out of society. To be condemned by her parents and thrown out of their lives.

Had she been older and wiser, she would never have given them such power over her. Nor would she have wasted so much of her life regretting what was no more than a mistaken trust in another.

She would prove to herself that she had changed. That she was now a woman who could face bravely whatever life chose to throw at her.

And so she had forced her reluctant feet to carry her back into the cramped vestibule.

That was when she had suddenly been struck with a dangerous plan.

She could not hope to match the vampire's strength, but she could match his cunning. If only she could wrench free the shutters, then she would have the perfect weapon to battle a creature of the dark.

With a last jerk, the heavy shutter flung open. Jocelyn ignored her throbbing hands and glanced out the broken panes of the narrow window. Although darkness still shrouded the nearby woods, there was an undeniable glow of dawn upon the horizon.

From the stairs she could hear the unmistakable sounds of a battle being waged, and her heart clenched in fear.

"Oh, Lucien, hold on," she muttered in low tones, silently willing the sun to rise.

For what seemed to be an eternity she stood there trembling as she desperately watched for the first rays of sunlight to filter over the trees. And then, at long last, a bright glow washed over her and tumbled into the shadowed room.

Hurriedly turning about, Jocelyn moved through the slender beam of sunlight, bending down to make a distinct mark in the thick dust upon the flagstones. Then, just as swiftly, she pulled the shutter closed, careful to ensure that it appeared firmly nailed in place.

Only then did she turn toward the stairs and call out in a loud voice, "Amadeus. I have the Medallion. It is yours if you still desire it."

There was a thick pause before she heard Lucien moan in dismay. "Jocelyn, no."

"Yes, Lucien." She did not need to feign the decided quaver in her voice. "I will not allow you to be harmed."

"Bring me the Medallion," Amadeus commanded.

"No."Jocelyn sucked in a steadying breath, her nerves so raw that she could barely think straight. "You must first assure me that Lucien is able to leave without harm."

"Of course." The oily voice of the traitor moved closer to the stairs. "You have my word.

Now bring me the Medallion."

Jocelyn grimaced, wondering if the evil man truly thought she would accept his word. For heaven's sake, he had kidnapped, tortured, and murdered without compunction. Why would he not lie?

"Not until Lucien is here beside me."

She could hear a rasp of anger float through the air before the vampire was regaining command of his composure.

"Very well." There was a faint rustling, and then Jocelyn could see Lucien making his way up the stairs, closely followed by Amadeus. Her breath caught at the bronze countenance that was cut and battered almost out of recognition. His lean body had fared no better, and his coat was tattered to reveal several wounds that were bleeding in an alarming manner. Smiling cruelly at her horrified expression, Amadeus held out his skeleton hand. "Now. The Medallion."