Page 4 of The Highwayman's Bite

Chapter Two

Rhys Berwyn clutchedthe jeweled comb tight in his gloved hands, hoping a few of the young woman’s mahogany tresses remained between the silver teeth. Although his haul from this robbery was shamefully meager—only the comb and a few pence and shillings from the driver—it was the most memorable encounter he’d had. Rhys had encountered armed carriage drivers and gentleman passengers countless times, but never had he met resistance in the form of a man disguised as a woman, nor an actual woman.

When he’d disarmed the Molly, the attack from the young beauty caught him off guard. Admiration brought a smile to Rhys’s lips. It had been ages since anyone had unbalanced him so handily. The young lady was very good for a novice. Her Coup d'arrêt and Raddoppio were completely flawless. He hadn’t been able to help himself from slowing himself down and dragging out the duel just to see what she was capable of.

He couldn’t remember having a better time. For those few minutes when Rhys and the beauty danced with their swords, Rhys forgot all about his multitude of troubles, always being a hairsbreadth away from death, and the people who would suffer if he met his end before accomplishing his goal.

For those blissful moments, none of that mattered. The only things that existed were his feet on the grass, matching the beauty’s step for step, the flush blooming in her full cheeks, the sparkle of excitement in her eyes, and then her kiss.

And oh, what a kiss. Though Rhys often claimed kisses from the beautiful women of whom he divested of coins and jewels, tonight’s kiss had been so much more. Somehow, in that dark-haired beauty’s embrace, he’d been transported to paradise.

And that was dangerous. He couldn’t lose himself for a second, lest he risk getting caught. For if he were taken—

Rhys shook his head, unwilling to think about such dismal prospects. Before he reached the seaside cave where he hid during the day, he stopped and scented the air for any sign of pursuers.

When he was certain no one was lurking in wait, Rhys climbed down the cliff face and swung into the cave through an entrance that most would never find. The first few meters were treacherous, with up-thrusting rock and stalagmites. Then it smoothed to a sandy path.

At last, Rhys reached the door to his sanctuary, a door he’d carved himself to seal the tunnel, and outfitted with a heavy lock. He unlocked the door, lit the lantern on a stone shelf and looked upon his meager furnishings with a degree of comfort. He’d worked hard over the decades, carving all these shelves, and constructing bunks for when other rogue vampires took refuge with him.

Placing the beauty’s comb on the shelf containing his cache of stolen jewelry, Rhys then moved to a crevasse in the cave wall and withdrew the sack of coins he’d been accumulating. He reached in his pocket and added the shillings he’d taken from the beauty’s coachman.

He tied the sack to his belt and left the cave. As he rushed to his next destination, several miles north and across a river, Rhys prayed he’d brought enough money.

The once prosperous farm sprawled before him. The stable roof was patched with crude wattle and daub. The hole in the barn roof had grown larger, the wind moaning through it as if mourning the slow death of the structure. An owl flew out of the hole, hooting as if reprimanding Rhys for his late arrival.

Rhys squared his shoulders and crossed the weed-choked field, where grain and barley had once turned the land gold. With no one to plow it, it had gone fallow.

He passed collapsed tenant cottages and ramshackle stables before he reached the main house. At least the roof was still intact, though the moss covering the shingles and the chipped paint on the walls gave the once noble structure a despairing appearance, like an aging courtesan.

Rhys fought off his melancholy and walked up the creaking steps, wondering how long the rotting wood would hold. He grasped the rusty knocker and rapped the solid oak door that would likely outlast the rest of the house.

A few moments later, he heard shuffling footsteps from inside the house, followed by the heavy clatter of metal as the locks were unfastened. The door opened just a crack and the hollow copper eyes of a woman in her early-thirties peered out. Suspicion and worry vanished as she recognized him.

“Rhys!” Emily opened the door and embraced him. “It has been too long since you’ve last come. I’ve been so worried.”

He held one of his only remaining relatives and stroked her hair. “You should know by now that I’ll always return.”

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