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“Remove the scarf.” His voice promised dire consequences if she didn’t comply.

With shaking hands, she closed her reticule and obeyed. Rafe snatched the length of wool from her grasp and looped it around her head with inhuman speed. His fingers curled in her hair as he deftly knotted the fabric with one hand, making her shiver. Before Cassandra could process her sudden blindness, Rafe’s arm snaked around her waist, lifting her to rest against his hip.

“Wrap your legs around me and hold tight,” he whispered into her ear.

Surely he cannot be serious! The protest died in her throat as he hitched her up higher. The world tilted, and before she realized what she was doing, her thighs grasped his waist as if she belonged there. Immediately, Rafe burst forward with the speed of a pistol shot. Cassandra shrieked and flung her arms around his shoulders, burying her face against the side of his neck as if she could retreat from the biting wind. Surely no human was made to travel at such unnatural speed. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying he wouldn’t drop her.

Awareness of their intimacy flooded her senses. His skin is like rough satin, an inner demon mused. Rafe’s spicy scent and his heat seeped into her body like forbidden confections. His hair brushed across her fingers, impossibly soft. The myriad of new sensations made Cassandra’s heart pound.

Rafe stopped so abruptly that her stomach lodged in her throat. “We’re here. It is best if you do not speak.”

He set her down, bracing his good hand on her shoulder while she regained her balance. Once her dizziness fled, Cassandra reached for the blindfold.

“Not yet,” he commanded. “Take my hand and I will lead you.”

She took a deep breath and reached for him. I will not be afraid. As his strong fingers laced with hers, she could almost believe that declaration—until the ominous creak of a heavy door sent her pulse to her throat.

“There will be a lot of steps. Just walk slowly.” Rafe squeezed her hand and gently led her forward. “I will not let you fall.”

Carefully, Cassandra proceeded. I will not be afraid.

For an eternity, the only sound was her boots echoing on the cold stone stairs. Then, whispers and mutters crept into her ears like the voices of sinister specters. The noise gradually escalated, picking and pulling at her nerves until thin tremors shook her.

“One more step,” Rafe said softly.

She felt his fingers gently untying the knot of the scarf. The fabric loosened, and for a moment his touch seemed to linger in her hair. Then the blindfold fell and candlelight blurred in her vision like captive stars.

“Blood drinkers of London…” Rafe’s voice echoed through the chamber in stark command. “As most of you have heard, circumstances have forced me to take a prisoner. This is Lady Cassandra Burton, Dowager Countess of Rosslyn. As Lord of this city, I have brought her here so you may all look upon her, feel my Mark, and know that to touch her is to risk my wrath.”

Cassandra choked back a gasp as the vampires came into view. More than a hundred of them loomed before her, and they did not appear pleased to see her. Glowing eyes and sharp fangs gleamed unnervingly from faces that otherwise appeared human.

Her only consolation was that she and Rafe stood upon a raised dais several feet from the masses.

One of the vampires bared his fangs, making her rethink her safety. The wound on her neck from Rafe’s bite burned. “I’d heard this woman is a vampire hunter. Is it true?”

“It is not.” Rafe’s brows drew together in consternation. “She is a doctor. The reason she was in the cemetery was to collect a corpse for her medical studies.”

Another scoffed. “A female doctor? Surely you didn’t believe that Banbury tale.”

Cassandra couldn’t hold back a snort of indignation. Before she could open her mouth to deliver a scathing retort, Rafe placed a warning hand on her arm.

“Clayton.” Rafe’s voice was calm, yet laden with undercurrents of danger. “Surely you cannot believe that a Lord Vampire would lack the power to discern falsehoods from a mere mortal.” He then addressed the rest of the throng. “Since even my second-in-command has failed to grasp the obvious, I suppose I must inform you that the reason I was forced to imprison her is because she is one of those rare humans whose mind is impervious to our powers.”

Clayton looked away with a petulant frown while the rest dissolved into a cacophony of arguments and rebuttals.

Yet another vampire stood to face Rafe. He had a stump where a hand should be. Had the injury occurred before or after he became a vampire? “Do you mean it does not work on everyone? Why not?”

“Some, like the countess, have such strong and willful minds that they seem to have a natural resistance to hypnosis. Especially if they also possess a massive degree of intelligence,” Rafe explained impatiently. “Others possess supernatural mental powers similar to ours and thus are able to shield their minds from invasion.”

“Do ye mean witches?” a female vampire inquired in a thick Cockney accent.

Rafe shrugged. “I would not venture to refer to them as such. Most of them, anyway.”

Cassandra’s lips parted in awe at this intriguing information. As discreetly as possible, she unfastened her reticule and withdrew her journal to jot down a few notes. The vampires’ gazes swiveled her way, brows raised in surprise and confusion.

Without looking at her, Rafe commanded, “Put that away, Countess.”

Cassandra flushed and stuffed the journal back into its compartment. Many vampires glared and bared their fangs at her. Clayton’s mouth twisted with palpable scorn.