Page 50 of The Highwayman's Bite

But oh, he felt so wonderful in her arms. So warm and safe. And the heavy thud of his heart made her suspect he felt the same.

A thought struck her. Weren’t vampires supposed to be dead? She looked up at him. “You have a heartbeat.”

“Yes.” His lips curved in a mirthful smile. “Contrary to myth, we vampires are not reanimated corpses. Another sort of magic grants us our powers and eternal life.”

“Magic?” She wanted to scoff at the word, yet she couldn’t. Not with a creature from legend standing before her, holding her in his arms.

“I do not know what else to call it.” He drew back slightly, though his grip remained on her arms. “There is something else, though.”

“What?”

His lips curved in an impish smirk. “Your chaperone had only just departed and already we are in an improper embrace.”

“Oh.” She stepped back and regarded him with a frown. “But you initiated it.”

“That I did.” He walked further into the cave and gathered wood from the pile to build up the fire. “A mistake on my part. However, I’d expected you to be afraid of me after learning that I am a monster.”

“I know I should be.” Vivian suppressed her warring desolation at the breaking of their embrace and confusion at the emotions he’d wrought as she filled the tea kettle with water. “But you’re simply not very monstrous.”

He looked over at her and bared his fangs. His eyes glowed like banked coals. The effect was strangely beautiful. “I could be monstrous.”

“But you’re not.” She ignored the tilt in her belly. “You cannot hurt me because you need that money for your family’s farm. And speaking of, what monster cares enough for his loved ones to endanger himself to save them?”

Rhys took the kettle from her with a sigh and set it on the grate. “Very well, I admit to being soft when it comes to Emily and the children. But you are mistaken about yourself. While it’s true that I will not kill or injure you, I have already hurt you.”

“When you bit me?” She laughed even as a trill of pleasure flared through her lower body at the memory of his mouth on her neck. “Don’t be silly.”

Rhys shook his head and took two mugs from one of his myriad shelves. “No, my bite didn’t harm you, but the knowledge that your uncle and I are vampires may destroy your future.”

“What do you mean?” Vivian recalled Madame Renarde’s words when Rhys had revealed his identity. “You’ve doomed us all!”

“It is forbidden for humans to know of the existence of vampires. We’d be hunted to extinction otherwise.” Rhys prepared the tea, avoiding her gaze. “I do not know what your uncle shall do about it when you are returned to him.”

Dread crawled up her spine. “What is he expected to do?”

“Typically, the human is to either be killed or Changed.”

“Killed?” she echoed, rubbing her arms as a sudden chill swept through the cave. “You think my uncle might kill me?”

“No.” Rhys shook his head quickly and handed her a steaming cup of tea. “I can tell that he cares for you too much to do such a thing. I assume that when you are returned to him that he will either arrange to have you Changed, or he will do like the primary Lord of London did when he married, and... bend the rules.”

“What about Madame Renarde?” Vivian asked as a horrifying realization overtook her. “She’s a servant, and an... unconventional person. Will Uncle kill her because you told us his secret?”

Rhys fell silent, hands cupped over his tea mug. “I have hopes that he will be able to vanquish her memory of what she’s learned.”

“That can be done?” While the core of her being revolted at the thought of someone manipulating her friend’s mind, or her own for that matter, hope for Madame Renarde’s life being spared was more important.

“Yes.” Rhys continued to avoid her gaze and sipped his tea. “If the subject hasn’t spent too long mired in our world, a vampire as old and powerful as the Lord of Blackpool should be able to make a person forget all about our kind. Few humans are immune to our influence.”

“And if it’s been too long?” Vivian set her tea aside and clenched her fists. Anger and fear suffused her soul. “Or if Madame Renarde is immune?”

Rhys sighed. “I do not know.”

A red haze of fury fell like a curtain over her vision. Vivian launched across the few feet separating them and grasped the lapels of his coat. Hot tea sloshed all over their clothes, but she barely felt the scalding liquid.

“Damn you!” Her fists beat at his chest. “You put my only friend’s life at risk on a pile of unknown assumptions? You are a monster. I thought you returned Madame Renarde to my uncle so that she wouldn’t die from her illness, not so she could face a death sentence for something that is not her fault.”

Rhys grasped her wrists as she struggled and cursed. “I apologize, but you must calm yourself.” His grip was unyielding as iron manacles, but Vivian thrashed against him, blind with rage.

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