Page 9 of Wynter's Bite

He bowed. “I’m afraid I must go, but I do look forward to discussing that book in the future.” Green eyes glittering with an unspoken intensity that made her pulse quicken, he gave her a teasing grin. “I do hope you’re a quick reader.”

With that, he departed, slinking away on soundless feet like a tiger off to the watering hole.

Bethany looked down at the book he’d handed to her. The Faerie Queen by Edmund Spenser. Just as she was about to open the cover, she felt a light rap on her shoulder and looked up to see her mother scowling down at her. “What did he want?”

“He loaned me a book.” Bethany made sure to emphasize the fact that he hadn’t given it to her. Her mother would have an attack of the vapors if a man gave her daughter any sort of gift without a formal betrothal in place.

Cecily’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Why would he do that?”

“During our dance last night, we discovered that we share a common interest in medieval literature,” Bethany explained warily, knowing Mother disapproved of her broaching such topics. “So he thought I may enjoy this one. Hardly the behavior of one with improper intentions. Look.” She pointed at the far end of the room where Lord de Wynter was bowing to Lady Chatterton. “He’s already leaving.”

“So he is,” Lady Mead murmured with patent relief.

Why was he leaving so soon? Bethany wondered. Had some emergency come up? Another thought teased her mind, filling her with such pleasure she grew lightheaded.

Or did he only come here for the sheer purpose of bringing me a book?

Chapter Five

Justus delivered his farewells to Lady Chatterton, praising her daughter on a magnificent performance, though to be truthful, he’d hardly paid attention. All his focus had been dedicated to discreetly slipping the book to Miss Mead in such a way that would not compromise her reputation. And, of course, ignoring that inner voice demanding why it was so important for him to give some debutante a book in the first place.

Lady Chatterton crooned in token disappointment at Justus’s early departure, but her eyes were on Lord Darkwood as the most desired match for her daughter. She was hunting the wrong fox there, Justus thought with a chuckle. Unless she fancied the idea of her little heiress growing fangs and drinking blood.

Gavin would only marry other vampires once or twice a century. And those marriages were in name only, for the sole purpose of driving back match-making mothers. Justus much preferred to be the bane of said mothers, carefully refining his image as an unrepentant rake and ne’er do well. He didn’t have time for a wife, as his duties as Gavin’s second in command left little room for even the pretense of love.

Such duties awaited him now. First he was to meet with Benson, the third in command for a report on the south half of the territory, then together they were to round up all of the vampires of Rochester for a Gathering.

A scent drifted on the night breeze, making Justus’s lips curve upward with grim satisfaction. Now it was time for one of his most important duties. With lightning speed, he dashed behind Chatteron House to find a rogue vampire lurking behind the stables.

The rogue took one look at him and his eyes went wide as saucers. He turned to run and Justus seized him by the collar of his ragged coat.

“I- I’m lost, Governor!” the vampire stuttered, writhing like a worm on a hook.

“If that were the case, you’d have asked me for directions instead of trying to run,” Justus replied with a smirk. “All the same, I’ll be glad to escort you to snug accommodations during your visit. That is, unless you have a writ of passage from your lord?”

The rogue struggled harder. “Piss off, you limey ginger!”

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