could just be a weak fledgling. Either way, the creature was close. Below in the crypt, perhaps, or . . .
His spine prickled, and Dmitriu spun around, fists raised to defend himself.
The vampire sat on a boulder that had once formed part of the castle. His cloak stretched out behind him, barely stirring in the cool breeze of the night. Across his knees lay a broken sword, the top third of the blade apparently snapped off. His strong, handsome face was in profile, and he seemed to be gazing upward at the stars, but Dmitriu didn’t let that fool him. The vampire knew exactly where he was and what stance he had taken.
Dmitriu let his hands fall to his sides. “Saloman.”
The vampire smiled, almost as if the last three hundred years had never been. He rose to his feet in one quick, fluid movement, letting the broken sword fall to the ground, and Dmitriu saw that he wasn’t masking. He was weak. It was mere willpower that gave him strength enough to move, to walk toward him.
Emotion threatened to choke him. It seemed after all that he, Dmitriu, was the weak one, for it was he who stumbled in, closing the distance between them.
“Dmitriu.” Saloman embraced him, and he fell to his knees, taking the cold white hand in his and pressing it to his lips. “You sent her.”
Dmitriu nodded. A drop of blood had fallen from his eye onto Saloman’s hand; embarrassed, he wiped both on his shirt before rising.
Saloman said, “How did you know?”
“I could smell her. She reeks of Tsigana. You let her go.”
“For now. There’s more to be had here than an instant of gratification.” Saloman caught and held his gaze, and with massive relief, he realized at last that he was safe. Saloman had lost neither his memory nor his sanity in the frozen centuries. It didn’t matter. Dmitriu would have done this, whatever the consequences. “I am grateful.”
Dmitriu swallowed. “There’s no need of thanks. I only wish I could have done it sooner.”
“You didn’t forget.”
“I couldn’t.” A thousand questions choked him about how it had been for him and how much he remembered; yet he couldn’t bring himself to ask. He didn’t want to know. Distracting himself, he bent and picked up the fallen sword. It was surprisingly light, and the hilt wasn’t Saloman’s. In fact, it wasn’t even a sword. Silver paint peeled and crumbled over a blade made of red-stained wood.
“So that’s how they did it,” he exclaimed. A stake disguised as a weapon that only threatened humans. “A contemptible ruse!”
“Several ruses,” Saloman said without apparent interest. He’d had three hundred years to digest it, but Dmitriu wasn’t fooled. He hadn’t forgiven or forgotten.
Dmitriu lifted his gaze. “What will you do now?”
Saloman smiled. He stretched out his arms and turned as if embracing the whole world from this hilltop. “Live,” he said. “Feed. Fuck. Frolic.” He came to a halt and stared into Dmitriu’s eyes. “And take back what is mine.”
Dmitriu smiled. For the first time in decades it felt good to be undead. “No ‘f,’ ” he pointed out.
Saloman’s lips quirked. “I’ll think of one.”
Dmitriu’s heart pumped. He tipped his head to one side. “I can help with the feed. My blood is stronger than most these days.”
“It should be,” said Saloman, reaching for him. “It’s mine.”
Dmitriu’s head jerked back as the other’s fangs pierced his skin. He shuddered at the strength of Saloman’s desperate pull, losing himself in the exquisite pleasure, not unmingled with fear. “Just don’t bloody kill me.”
Saloman lifted his head, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “No guarantees,” he whispered, and plunged once again into Dmitriu’s jugular, bending him back like a twig with the force of his hunger.
Chapter Three
E lizabeth woke with a thud.
“Domnişoară?” Someone was rapping on her door. “Miss Silk?”
Elizabeth dragged her hand across her face and
His spine prickled, and Dmitriu spun around, fists raised to defend himself.
The vampire sat on a boulder that had once formed part of the castle. His cloak stretched out behind him, barely stirring in the cool breeze of the night. Across his knees lay a broken sword, the top third of the blade apparently snapped off. His strong, handsome face was in profile, and he seemed to be gazing upward at the stars, but Dmitriu didn’t let that fool him. The vampire knew exactly where he was and what stance he had taken.
Dmitriu let his hands fall to his sides. “Saloman.”
The vampire smiled, almost as if the last three hundred years had never been. He rose to his feet in one quick, fluid movement, letting the broken sword fall to the ground, and Dmitriu saw that he wasn’t masking. He was weak. It was mere willpower that gave him strength enough to move, to walk toward him.
Emotion threatened to choke him. It seemed after all that he, Dmitriu, was the weak one, for it was he who stumbled in, closing the distance between them.
“Dmitriu.” Saloman embraced him, and he fell to his knees, taking the cold white hand in his and pressing it to his lips. “You sent her.”
Dmitriu nodded. A drop of blood had fallen from his eye onto Saloman’s hand; embarrassed, he wiped both on his shirt before rising.
Saloman said, “How did you know?”
“I could smell her. She reeks of Tsigana. You let her go.”
“For now. There’s more to be had here than an instant of gratification.” Saloman caught and held his gaze, and with massive relief, he realized at last that he was safe. Saloman had lost neither his memory nor his sanity in the frozen centuries. It didn’t matter. Dmitriu would have done this, whatever the consequences. “I am grateful.”
Dmitriu swallowed. “There’s no need of thanks. I only wish I could have done it sooner.”
“You didn’t forget.”
“I couldn’t.” A thousand questions choked him about how it had been for him and how much he remembered; yet he couldn’t bring himself to ask. He didn’t want to know. Distracting himself, he bent and picked up the fallen sword. It was surprisingly light, and the hilt wasn’t Saloman’s. In fact, it wasn’t even a sword. Silver paint peeled and crumbled over a blade made of red-stained wood.
“So that’s how they did it,” he exclaimed. A stake disguised as a weapon that only threatened humans. “A contemptible ruse!”
“Several ruses,” Saloman said without apparent interest. He’d had three hundred years to digest it, but Dmitriu wasn’t fooled. He hadn’t forgiven or forgotten.
Dmitriu lifted his gaze. “What will you do now?”
Saloman smiled. He stretched out his arms and turned as if embracing the whole world from this hilltop. “Live,” he said. “Feed. Fuck. Frolic.” He came to a halt and stared into Dmitriu’s eyes. “And take back what is mine.”
Dmitriu smiled. For the first time in decades it felt good to be undead. “No ‘f,’ ” he pointed out.
Saloman’s lips quirked. “I’ll think of one.”
Dmitriu’s heart pumped. He tipped his head to one side. “I can help with the feed. My blood is stronger than most these days.”
“It should be,” said Saloman, reaching for him. “It’s mine.”
Dmitriu’s head jerked back as the other’s fangs pierced his skin. He shuddered at the strength of Saloman’s desperate pull, losing himself in the exquisite pleasure, not unmingled with fear. “Just don’t bloody kill me.”
Saloman lifted his head, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “No guarantees,” he whispered, and plunged once again into Dmitriu’s jugular, bending him back like a twig with the force of his hunger.
Chapter Three
E lizabeth woke with a thud.
“Domnişoară?” Someone was rapping on her door. “Miss Silk?”
Elizabeth dragged her hand across her face and
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