Page 74 of Wynter's Bite

“A flag of surrender.” She picked up a stick from the ground and tied the white fabric to the tip.

Admiration curved his lips in a smile. “That could work.”

They crossed the border into Cornwall, Bethany holding her makeshift flag high. “I wish I could see this place in the daylight. It already looks magical.”

“It looks about the same as the Devon coast.” Justus chuckled. Though, now that she mentioned it, something seemed different. Perhaps it was the hope of safety and home that made the rolling hills seem greener and the rocky storm-swept cliffs more enchanting.

Clouds were gathering over the sea, nearing the shore. If they didn’t find shelter or weren’t apprehended first, being soaked by rain loomed as a discomforting possibility.

“We should head west and stay on the coast. Castle Deveril is just outside of Falmouth,” he said, trying to hide the uncertainty of their welcome from his tone. “I do not know how far we’ll make it before one of his vampires takes us into custody.”

As if summoned by his words, a vampire crested the hill before them. “Stop, right where you are.”

Justus and Bethany froze, the white flag held before her, waving in the sea breeze. The vampire raised a brow at the scrap of white fabric and strolled down the hill to meet them. “A flag of surrender? Now that’s something I haven’t seen from a rogue.” His brown eyes narrowed on Bethany. “And a human companion. That does not bode well.”

“I cannot Change her until I’m legitimate, so that she will not be a rogue.” Justus sensed other vampires approaching and sank to his knees before they had the idea to attack. “I surrender to you and ask to be taken to the Lord of Cornwall so I may petition him for citizenship.”

The vampire nodded. “Ah. You wouldn’t be the first. I am Emrys Adair, Second in command to the Lord of Cornwall. And who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

Justus inclined his head. “Justus de Wynter, formerly Second in command to the Lord of Rochester. And this is my bride to be, Bethany Mead.” He ignored Bethany’s nudge on his ribs at omitting mention of their Roma wedding ceremony. It wouldn’t be good for Emrys or the Lord of Cornwall to know he’d preempted his whole purpose for being here.

“Bride to be, eh?” Emrys appraised Bethany coolly. “His Lordship will decide about that. Come along.”

To Justus’s vexation, the vampire placed himself between him and Bethany. She shot Justus an alarmed look, which he answered with the slightest shake of his head. They could not risk coming off as troublesome.

They walked with Emrys up the hill, the other vampires in the distance making a discreet perimeter, who may have escaped the eye of a less seasoned rogue vampire. Justus felt a touch of respect for Deveril’s efficient method even as he realized such a strategy would have been his downfall had he not wanted to get caught.

Was it possible that Gavin had lied to him? Or perhaps Lord Deveril was not as welcoming as Gavin had thought. Justus’s heart sank as a thousand dismal possibilities flitted through his mind.

Emrys cast them suspicious glances while they walked, as if they’d change their minds on surrendering and bolt at any moment.

Suddenly, tension bled into the air around him as a sense of deep power thudded in his bones. Justus grasped the reason for the sense just as the surrounding vampires melted further into the shadows.

Emrys grasped Justus’s and Bethany’s arms, halting them as a tall figure emerged from the shadows of a copse of trees.

Justus’s eyes widened at his first sight of the Lord of Cornwall. He’d heard the man was tall and unconventional-looking, but the gossips hardly did the vampire credit. At six and a half feet tall, he towered above them. His slender frame conveyed a sense of tightly-coiled speed and power rather than frailty, and his silvery blond hair looked more ethereal than earthly.

“Justus de Wynter,” Lord Deveril said in his musical Cornish accent with an unreadable half smile. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing, my lord?” Justus asked cautiously.

Deveril frowned as if he thought the question to be insolent. “That remains to be seen.” He turned to Emrys. “Give me the woman.”

Justus lurched forward and was stopped by the two other Cornwall vampires who’d been drawing nearer all this time.

Deveril’s eyes narrowed in irritation and he shook his head in a chiding manner. “That is no way to behave to one who you hope to be your lord.” His long fingers closed over Bethany’s shoulders and she stiffened at his touch. “There is no time for us to walk to my castle, so we must run. I am only ensuring that you follow.” He turned Bethany to face him, forced her chin up so he could capture her gaze and whispered, “Sleep.”

As her knees buckled, Lord Deveril lifted her into his arms, holding her far too close for Justus’s liking. He bit back a possessive growl.

“Now, now,” Deveril said softly. “I mean her no harm. You truly should have waited to Mark her, if it means you cannot control yourself.” He sighed. “The hour grows late. We shall talk at the castle.” With that he took off in a blur, moving faster than any vampire Justus had ever seen.

The sight ripped Justus’s heart from his chest. He and Emrys took off after Deveril, keeping pace with each other, but quickly losing sight of the Lord Vampire. He was simply too fast and too powerful, even though as far as Justus had heard, they were close to the same age. With a sinking heart, Justus knew that if it came to a fight between the two, he would lose badly.

When he and Emrys at last stopped, foreboding filled Justus as he looked up at the ancient castle. The dark clouds obscuring the moon engulfed the structure in shadows. Deveril stood before the arched stone entrance, a rusted iron portcullis raised above his head, looking like it could slam down at any moment.

But that sight wasn’t nearly as unnerving as seeing his Bethany unconscious and cradled in another vampire’s arms.

“How did you know I was coming?” Justus asked in effort to reign in his temper.

---