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She sighed. If he was simply being stubborn out of a misplaced sense of chivalry, she would have to work harder to disabuse him of that notion.

Twelve

16 October 1823

Hungry, so hungry. Lenore’s throat was arid from blood thirst as sharp pangs relentlessly assaulted her empty belly.

Three days had passed since Clayton had fed her. He was starving her, keeping her weak. Her head lolled on her shoulders as gray spots danced in her vision. His strategy was working. Another day or two and she would be unable to move.

The cellar door opened with a painful screech. Lenore tensed as loud footsteps plodded down the stairs. Hamish. Her lip curled up in scorn. One would think a vampire sometime beyond his first decade would have learned to walk more quietly.

“’Ello, luv,” he said jovially, leering down at her with swinish eyes. “Did ye miss me?”

Lenore’s flesh crawled in revulsion as he reached out to squeeze her bruised breasts. Another rape… She didn’t know if she could bear it, but somehow she would. Just as she had survived all the others.

Clayton was a mad fiend to allow this. If he succeeded in usurping Rafael Villar and taking over London, his reign would be one of blood and terror. No vampire would be safe.

As Hamish drew nearer, her predatory hunger roared to life. Despite her disgust, she licked her fangs. She needed blood. Desperately.

The rogue vampire hiked up her torn skirts, smacking his fat lips in anticipation of the assault. The scent of his blood nearly overpowered her dread. Once he came close enough, she might be able to bite him…and he might let her.

Lenore gasped—not at his intrusion—but at an idea. The plan was tenuous, gossamer in fact. No matter, she would rather die trying to succeed than endure this degradation any longer without a fight.

* * *

Rafe stalked in front of the gathered assembly of London vampires, barely suppressing his fury. Nearly half eyed him petulantly, as if he’d terribly inconvenienced them by calling this meeting. His fists clenched at his sides. How could they be so selfish when one of their own was likely dead or in danger? He sighed. At least all had obeyed his summons.

He held up a hand to silence their chatter. “Although I am certain many of you already know, I must announce it officially: Lenore has gone missing. Furthermore, I have reason to believe that rogues are in the city.”

“Rogues?” Clayton’s derisive snort echoed through the chamber. “How do we know your pet vampire hunter is not responsible? Or the surgeon paying her calls?”

Gasps and murmurs of agreement broke out among the congregation. Rafe rubbed his temples, eyes burning with exhaustion. Clayton had been resentful when Ian made Rafe his second-in-command instead of him. When Rafe became Lord of London, he’d hoped that making Clayton his second would mollify him. He had been catastrophically wrong.

Resisting the urge to bare his fangs, Rafe spoke patiently as if to a small child. “First, Lady Rosslyn is not a vampire hunter. She is a physician, as I informed you before. Second, she has been in my custody and under guard this entire time, as is the surgeon who is giving her lessons in the healing arts.”

Clayton glared in obvious anger at Rafe’s patronizing tone. “I still maintain that she is dangerous. And I do not understand why you haven’t yet decided whether to kill her or Change her. The longer she remains alive and human, the more we are at risk.”

“We have bigger concerns than a mere mortal prisoner,” Rafe snarled. “One of our people is missing, and rogue vampires may be invading our land. We must address these issues immediately. All of us. Lady Rosslyn is my responsibility and mine alone.”

Clayton lifted his chin. “I disagree, Villar. I believe—”

“Silence!” Rafe snarled.

The other vampires watched the exchange with perverse fascination. The situation was quickly getting out of control…which was likely what Clayton intended. It seemed his second needed to be reminded who was in charge.

“Clayton,” he said softly, though he wanted to roar. “I have had quite enough of your insolence. I command you to leave this meeting and begin searching for the rogues.”

His second-in-command bristled before giving him an insultingly slight bow. “Yes, my lord.”

“Oh, and Clayton?” Rafe said to the vampire’s retreating back.

“Yes?” he replied through clenched teeth.

“Contradict me again and I shall appoint a new second-in-command. Do it a third time and you will suffer the most painful consequences.” Rafe wanted to strip him of his title right now, but to do it so suddenly in front of so many who admired Clayton would be perceived as nothing short of callous.

Clayton nodded and slunk out of the meeting chamber like the cur he was.

Rafe turned back to the other vampires, gratified to see more respect and humility in their gazes. Now they knew he meant business. “Back to the matter at hand. We all must work together to find Lenore. And we must see our city safe from intruders.”