My Lord Eternity (Immortal Rogues #2)(56)

"Ah." The vampire turned to smile kindly at the silent woman at his side. "I did tell you that she possessed the strength necessary to wear the Medallion."

Lucien watched the rosy glow touch Jocelyn's pale cheeks. It never failed to amaze him that she did not seem to realize just how special she was.

That was something he intended to correct. Even if it took him an eternity.

"So you did," he murmured.

"Here, my dear." Before Jocelyn could predict what the old woman was about to do, Nefri had swiftly slipped the Medallion back around her neck and fastened the clasp. "This belongs to you."

The blue eyes widened even as her fingers unconsciously rose to lightly stroke the amulet.

"Oh, but surely there is no longer any need."

Surprisingly Nefri turned to glance about the shadows that still shrouded the room. Lucien could almost sense the puzzled wariness that filled the great vampire's heart.

"Although Amadeus is gone, there are still others who would claim the Medallion," she at last admitted slowly, her expression troubled.

Lucien could not ignore the chill that inched down his spine. He had wanted to believe that with the passing of Amadeus, Jocelyn was now safe. She had surely endured enough.

But deep within him had been a lingering sense of unease.

Amadeus may have been mad and obsessed with his studies, but he had never possessed the sort of courage necessary to defy the Great Council and Nefri herself. What had prompted him to believe he could succeed in such a foolish scheme? Or who?

"There is still danger," he at last said in flat tones.

Nefri gave a slow nod of her head. "I fear so. I have come to believe there is more to these traitors than I initially suspected."

Lucien felt Jocelyn stiffen at his side, and he placed a comforting arm about her shoulders.

"What would you have me do?" he demanded.

Without warning a sudden smile touched the lined countenance. "For the moment, nothing more than to remain with Jocelyn."

"I intend to remain at her side for an eternity," he vowed in low tones.

His words hung defiantly in the shadowed air, and half expecting an argument, Lucien was caught off guard as Nefri instead reached out to touch both of their heads in a silent blessing.

"Then all will be well," she retorted in soft tones. "Now, we should be away from here. I have brought you a carriage. It awaits outside."

Lucien struggled to his feet, pleased to discover that he could at least stand.

"You will call upon me if there is a need?" he demanded.

Nefri bent her head in agreement. "If there is a need."

He glanced down at the woman who filled his heart with joy. "You will know where to find me."

The great vampire gave a soft chuckle as Jocelyn blushed a fiery red. "Indeed, I do. May peace be with you."

"And love," Lucien murmured.

"And most certainly love," Nefri repeated in benediction.

Fourteen

The dawn had just brushed the sky with a shimmer of pale rose when Lucien silently slipped down the steps from his garret toward the bedchamber directly below his own.

It had been two days since they had fled the castle with Nefri. Two days when both Lucien and Jocelyn had been forced to battle the weariness of both mind and spirit that had haunted them. In near silence they had allowed the fretful Meg to pamper them with warm food and clucking concern. Neither desired to discuss the ghastly nightmare they had endured, instead simply sitting close one to the other and taking comfort in the fact that they were together.

This morning, however, Lucien had awakened with a refreshed sense of purpose. The dull ache had left his body, and his mind was clear and focused.

It was time to grasp the future in his hands.

A future that was entirely wrapped around Jocelyn Kingly.

With flowing steps he slipped toward the closed door and silently pressed it open. A soft glow from the window was banishing the shadows as he crossed the worn floorboards and perched upon the edge of the mattress. For a breathless moment he merely regarded Jocelyn's soft profile that lay against the pillow.

In sleep the delicate features were relaxed and the long black lashes brushed her cheeks. She appeared young and utterly vulnerable, making his heart skip with tender emotion.

How utterly and deeply he loved this woman. She completed him in a manner that stilled his restless spirit and brought joy to his soul.

Slowly his gaze lowered, halting upon the full rosy lips.

Hot, glorious passion swept through him as he reached out to lightly stroke the sweet softness of that mouth. Surely he had been patient long enough. Was it not, at long last, the time to claim her as his own?

Beneath his touch she stirred, and rolling onto her back, she slowly lifted her lashes to regard him with a bemused gaze.

"Lucien."

"Good morning, my sweet."

With an effort she pulled herself to a seated position, unaware that the thin linen of her nightrail revealed a delectable outline of the lush form beneath. Lucien, on the other hand, was delightfully conscious of the lovely view. It was only with a stern effort that he managed to suppress the urge to toss off his brocade robe and join her beneath the covers.

She was a human, he grimly reminded himself, and bound by human morals. Until she was his wife she would not be able to give herself to him freely. She had endured enough shame in her life without him adding to her burden.