My Lord Eternity (Immortal Rogues #2)(9)

Lucien slowly straightened his shoulders, his own expression grim. "All very commendable, no doubt, but I fear I cannot allow you to claim the Medallion."

Amadeus gave a sharp laugh at his firm warning. "You believe you can halt me?"

"If necessary."

"Then we are destined to be enemies." The vampire gave a mocking bow. "May the best vampire win. Adieu, Lucien."

With supreme nonchalance Amadeus turned on his heel and moved down the darkened street. Lucien briefly fingered the dagger beneath his coat before giving a shrug. He truly hoped that there would be no need to actually put an end to the vampire. No matter what his distaste for Amadeus and his torture of humans, he was a brother to him. It would be a terrible thing to destroy him.

Giving a shake of his head, Lucien shrugged off his dark thoughts. For the moment his concern was for the Medallion—and Miss Kingly. He could not allow himself to be distracted.

With movements too swift for human eyes, Lucien disappeared into the shadows and made his way back to the small house that was now his home. His fleetness ensured that he arrived upon the doorstep only moments after Miss Kingly, and with silent steps he slipped in behind her. It was only when he lightly touched her upon the shoulder that she gave a startled jerk and turned to regard him with a wide gaze.

"Oh, Mr. Valin," she breathed, not completely able to hide her relief that he was not some villain intent upon harm.

"Good evening, Miss Kingly," he murmured softly, his gaze deliberately moving to the smudge of dirt upon her cheek and down to the torn bodice of her gown. "What has occurred?"

She belatedly attempted to hide her wounds with the well-worn shawl. "'Tis nothing."

His expression firmed at her ridiculous words. "'Tis more than nothing."

Without awaiting her approval, he grasped her elbow and sternly steered her toward the small front salon. She attempted to protest, but it was obvious she was still too unnerved by the murder of her friend to conjure her usual spirit.

"What are you doing?"

"Those wounds must be attended to or they will become infected," he retorted, leading her to a chair and pushing her onto the threadbare cushion. He crossed toward the sidebar near the window. "I presume you have brandy? Ah, here we are."

Grasping the small bottle of brandy, Lucien returned to the dazed maiden. He paused to remove a handkerchief from beneath his coat and poured the brandy onto the clean linen before gently pulling the shawl aside.

"This is not necessary," she protested as her cheeks filled with heat. "Meg is quite capable of assisting me."

He lifted his head to meet her embarrassed gaze. "Why would you disturb Meg when I am here? Now, hold still, this might burn."

He pressed the handkerchief to the scrape on her shoulder, his lips thinning as she flinched in pain. Amadeus would pay for causing her injury, he silently promised himself, determinedly cleaning the bits of dirt from the wound.

"Oh," she choked as he continued his ruthless cleansing.

He gave a rueful grimace. "I fear I have no means of making this painless."

She gritted her teeth. "It does not matter."

"May I inquire how you managed to find yourself in such a condition?" he demanded, hoping to take her mind off his ministrations.

"I encountered some ruffians."

"Ah. Hardly surprising in such a neighborhood. I suppose it would be a waste of time to warn you that a young, lovely maiden should not be wandering the streets at this hour?"

"You suppose correctly," she retorted in tart tones, no doubt having been warned of the dangers on more than one occasion.

"At least you should take along a companion. A lone woman is far more likely to be attacked."

"I will not endanger Meg."

His gaze met her own squarely. "Only yourself?"

She gave a lift of her shoulder, only to wince at the movement.

"It is my decision to make."

He smiled wryly at her stubborn tone. She would not easily be dissuaded from her reckless behavior. Not when she was convinced she was saving those poor souls upon the street. And unable to reveal the truth of her danger, Lucien was stuck in the unenviable position of somehow charming her into accepting his assistance.

A task that he would not wish upon his most dire enemy.

"Undoubtedly, my dear," he soothed as he continued to work upon the deep scratch. "An independent woman such as yourself has no need to request permission to go where she chooses."

She eyed him with open suspicion, as if sensing his devious intent. "Precisely."

"And yet, surely a wise woman would take more care?"

Her features abruptly hardened at the unshakable truth in his accusation. "Are you finished?"

"In a moment." Lucien carefully considered his words, knowing that any misstep could take days, if not weeks, to repair. "Do you go out often at night?"

"Yes."

"You help those in need?"

"When possible." The beautiful eyes darkened. "Unfortunately I cannot help them all."

Knowing that she must be thinking of the recently murdered Molly, Lucien offered a smile of sympathy.

"No one person can."

"No, I suppose not."

Lucien slowly straightened to gaze down at her pale countenance, his heart once again struck with her gentle beauty. A beauty that was reflected in her generous heart.