Page 53 of The Highwayman's Bite

Chapter Eighteen

The next night, Rhysreturned from his hunt in a less than satisfied state. Vivian’s words echoed in his mind as he slapped the newspaper against his hip.

“Is it difficult for you, having me so close? ...Does it make you hungry?”

His cock had hardened immediately when she’d asked those impudent questions and he’d licked his fangs in memory of the sweet taste of her blood. His thirst had been easy to tamp down, but his arousal had stubbornly remained throughout the morning, taunting him with memories of how her soft body had felt beneath his. The pounding of their hearts, the heat of her breath against his ear. The memories had turned to feverish imaginings of stripping off her gown, claiming her lush lips with his own, and their naked bodies entwined on his cot.

For all his admonishments for her to sleep, it had been an eternity before he’d been able to find his own slumber. Only to be tormented by erotic dreams.

By the time darkness had fallen, Rhys had to flee the cave lest he forget his vow to keep Vivian untouched. Slaking his bloodthirst on a tavern wench had only taken the edge off his feverish madness.

And now he had to return to the source of his hellish temptation. Some mad demon within looked forward to it. And to be truthful, Rhys had been lonely, such was the life of a rogue vampire. Having someone to converse with, to read with, and fence with had filled a void within him.

But it was all to end soon. If the Lord of Blackpool agreed to the terms of the ransom letter Rhys had sent with Madame Renarde, then Vivian would return home in four nights’ time. An ache burrowed deep in Rhys’s chest even as he cursed himself for the lowest of fools. He would miss her terribly.

When he returned to the cave, Vivian didn’t rush to him and clasp his hands as she had last night. He tried to tamp down disappointment even as his gaze roved over her captivating smile and blushing cheeks. She was pleased to see him. Yet he should not care.

Still, he returned her grin and held up the newspaper. “Guess what I’ve brought?”

Her blue eyes widened, and she clasped her hands together with girlish glee. “More ‘Two Hills?’”

He nodded and drew the paper back when she tried to snatch it from him. “I will only hand it over if you promise to read aloud while I prepare your breakfast. You are not the only one who wishes to know what happened to Constable Daleson.”

“I promise.” Vivian quivered with visible impatience. “Who do you suppose shot him? I think it was the Widow Josephine.”

“Preposterous,” Rhys snorted, though he always enjoyed her theories. Sometimes, she even guessed correctly. “She has no motive.”

“I think that she thinks she does,” Vivian argued. “But we shall see, won’t we?”

Under the spell of her enthusiasm, he handed her the paper and removed a heavy pack from his shoulders containing more food, fresh water, and fuel for the lanterns. As Vivian read, he prepared a breakfast of ham, eggs, and porridge.

She handed him the paper when he offered her the plate and he picked up reading where she left off. To their disappointment, the mystery was not solved in this issue. Instead, they were left with more questions.

“Who was that large apparition who visited the constable?” Vivian asked when he set the paper aside. “Do you suppose he was a dream, or could he be one of the fairy folk?”

They speculated for at least a quarter hour, and then spent even longer trying to parse the riddles the apparition had told the constable.

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