Sex and the Single Vampire

"Honoria, go to your keeper," Guarda commanded as she rose from her chair. The little ghost's eyes turned to a ratty cloth doll; then she disappeared. A little zing of hope quivered in my mind as my fingers automatically began tracing wards in the doorway behind me. "As for you, Allegra Telford, the time has come for you to understand just who you have set yourself against. Phillippa?"

The hermit nodded and slipped out the door behind me. I didn't have long; I knew Phillippa had been sent to fetch Eduardo, who was no doubt at the front of the house trying to deal with Roxy and Raphael.

Christian?

"You realize, of course, that by coming here you have given yourself into our power."

I felt his concentration as he struggled to unmake the wards on the wine vault door. I am almost through the door.

Good. I found the ghost. I should have her in a couple of minutes, but then all hell's going to break out. Can you get Sebastian out by yourself?

He frowned into my mind. I can, but acquiring the spirit is not according to our plans, Allegra. What are you hiding from me?

"We are too strong for you. It would be better if you came to us willingly, but if it is not to be"—Guarda shrugged—"we will take you by force."

I set up another level of guards in my mind between Christian and Guarda. Yeah, well, I didn't plan on falling in love with a vampire, either, but sometimes you just have to deal with what life hands you.

"Why are you torturing that poor child? Why don't you Release her? What can you possibly hope to learn from a little bitty ghost like that?" I asked Guarda, more to keep her from discovering I was talking to Christian than to hear her answers.

You are up to something, the silky, suspicious voice slid through my mind. I cannot stop now to investigate, but you will remember what you have promised. Your safety comes first.

"The poor child is a spirit, a mere memory of a human life. It has no feelings."

"You know what?" I asked, tipping my head to the side and gathering power until it glowed hot in my hands. "I think you're the one without any feelings. Which makes me regret this not at all."

Guarda frowned, falling right into my trap. "Regret what?"

I lunged forward, slamming the power held in my hands straight into her face, sending her flying backward until she hit the wall. Her head cracked painfully on a wooden shelf as she slid down, slumping in an untidy heap on the floor. I wasn't sure if it was the overload of my power shorting out hers, or being knocked unconscious that disabled her, but I didn't stop to question the situation. From somewhere on a floor below me I heard a shriek.

"Drat it all; she's got a sympathetic link to Phillippa. I might have known." I grabbed the doll keeper, stuffing it under my sweater as I spun on my good leg to race down hall toward the back stairs.

Noise erupted from the front of the house.

I hope you have that door open, because you're going to have company any second now! I warned Christian.

He didn't answer, and I didn't have the time to probe further. As I hit the second floor running, a dark shadow to my left lunged toward me. My wards glowed gold and white, allowing me to grab the banister and throw myself down the stairs without the ARMPIT flunky getting a grip on me. He was close behind me, though, panting heavily as he thundered down the stairs after me.

I flung myself off the last couple of steps, my weak leg buckling beneath me and sending me crashing painfully to the ground. The ARMPIT tripped over me, and went flying. I stumbled to my feet, holding tight to the front of my coat, the wards around me lit up in brilliant emerald. Beyond me, the door to the basement was suddenly blown off its hinges, the percussion from the blast deafening the shrieks and screams from the front of the house. I kicked at the ARMPIT as he grabbed for me, limping hard toward the back door, glancing behind me to make sure Christian was following.

A tall, handsome man with filthy dark blond hair and sunken eyes staggered from the basement. He was dressed in rags, his emaciated body thin, far too thin for any human to survive. He stumbled and clutched a chair as he tried to walk toward me.

"Sebastian?"

He looked up, his face gray and gaunt.

"Beloved," was all he said, the word a whisper so faint I hardly heard it.

"Yes, I'm Christian's Beloved," I said, limping toward him.