Page 114 of Eternal Craving

The door flew open.

The silhouette of a large man loomed, and he neared us with lightning speed. A vampireof regal status witha haunting, evocative face, transformed in his late forties, or so. He had a heavy-lidded gaze that bestowed a seductive quality. Dressed lavishly, he emanated wealth.

From Benjamin’s expression, I assumed I’d just met Count Delacroix. He didn’t blink as he traced Rachel’s curves with a lustful stare and then his gaze fell onto Benjamin.

“Stay where you are, Benjamin.” I shot him a look of insistence.

Benjamin prodded Rachel’s arm.

With an iron-clad grip, Delacroix clutched my wrist. A strange hypnosis ensued. He still hadn’t blinked. A familiar trance-like sensation filled me, one that Sunaria had tried on me once. I hadn’t liked it then, hating the powerlessness it wrought. With all my will, I fought it.

Rachel tugged on my trouser leg and broke the spell.

“The Manor, Belgravia,” the count commanded. “Bring her.”

Rachel reached for me, and I interlocked my fingers through hers.

“If I’m not mistaken,” he said, his crooked smile widening, “you’ll see a fair exchange in Rachel for Sunaria.”

Delacroix vanished.

“Who’s Sunaria?” Benjamin asked.

Chapter Forty

The count’s home was a sprawling gothic mansion of extraordinary character.

The striking facade rose above the lesser homes surrounding it. The magnificent workmanship suggested French design. Blackfriars Manor was forged into the entry gate’s cast-iron arch.

I’d decided not to bring along the girl.

Transforming Rachel had been remarkable. A wave of emotions flowed through me at her rebirth, as Rachel’s beauty had intensified, and afterward, within my arms slept titian-haired perfection. She’d risen with an expression of wonder, as she took in the world with renewed senses. Benjamin asked that it be he who explained what had befallen her. He wanted to give her time to adjust. Memories of my own death and life again came flooding back.

There’d been awe in Rachel’s gaze as those big green eyes of hers had fixed on her maker. A bond forged in blood. A token bride fit for a count. He’d plucked her out of a crowd of mortals for his very pleasure.

I’d been caught off guard by an uncommon devotion for the girl whom I’d saved, as an extraordinary ardor captured me, making me feel as though I’d always known her. I considered this was the reason a vampire would choose to keep their young close by.

Sunaria had obsessed over me, and even now with my behavior as wayward as it could be, she still loved me.

On my detour via The Fountain Hotel, I’dpanicked at not finding Sunaria – only seeing the clothes she’d worn the previous night, neatly folded over the armchair. Everything was exactly where she’d left it, with no sign of a struggle.

Delacroix had a penchant for manipulation.

Sunaria hadn’t lived this long without learning a thing or two about survival. She’d be too fast for this bully of a vampire, but a nagging doubt persisted. The fact that I still hadn’t heard from her made me cautious.

The castle was a bedrock of power, a veritable vampire’s lair. High florid railings encircled the property and served to deter unwanted visitors. Anyone who did make it inside would probably never find their way out.

I yanked open the gate. Gravel crunched beneath my feet as I neared the manor. It rose into the starlit sky, four floors high. Slender vertical columns and dramatic arches dominated the facade. Surprisingly, the structure had many windows, but these were shuttered. Stone hunting dogs sat halfway up huge towers with melodramatic carved details, threatening to pounce on an unsuspecting visitor. Unknowingly, mortals had nestled close to a dangerous domain.

The oak doorway squeaked on its hinges. Candlelight threw shadows over the spacious foyer and up the sweeping staircase. Vampires were everywhere, just casually mingling. Their attire reflected wealth – the finest linens for the men and lavish velvets for the women, all leaning toward darker colors, so they’dblend in with the night. This sophisticated crowd easily passed for aristocracy. I was regarded for a moment by them as my presence became known, and then, much to my relief, I was promptly ignored. Their conversations continued as their stares fell away.

Seeing no sign of Delacroix, and not sensing Sunaria, I began to question the sanity of my decision to come here.

The lavish décor showed signs of wear and tear, and line upon line of weird-looking characters represented in numerous paintings were strewn randomly upon the walls. I ascended the stairs as they creaked underfoot. A slight wobble of the banister proved my theory; this place had to be over one hundred years old.

One had a sense that soon these nightwalkers would be out stalking. Unknowingly, I’d walked amongst them, naively unaware that I’d shared the city with so many.

I proceeded down the north corridor, passing a few lone characters, focusing on the way ahead. I pushed all thoughts of my son away – and Sunaria, too. A nightmare would ensue if these villains could read my mind.