Page 3 of Bite at First Sight

Two

“Change me?” Cassandra squeaked, struggling to reason as her heart pounded in her ears. “Make me undead like you? Would that not, in fact, be k-killing me?”

“I am perfectly alive.” Rafael resumed walking, tugging her along. “Now be quiet and come along, or I can kill you now.”

She blinked and clamped her mouth shut. Though his words seemed to be motivated more by irritation than true intent to do her in, she thought it best to err on the side of caution, lest she vex this monster into fulfilling his promise. Ceasing her struggles, she walked mutely beside him, vowing to flee the moment his grip eased. But he did not loosen his grasp on her arm. As if reading her intentions, he tightened his hold once they left the cemetery gates. A sudden breeze lifted his heathenish long hair, brushing silken locks across her cheek. Cassandra shivered.

What a catastrophic night this has been. She’d ventured out into the cemetery to rob a grave, only to be abducted by the very man who’d captured her fascination and held it long after their brief acquaintance…a man who happened to be a mythological monster. Even if she’d been a fanciful type of person, Cassandra never would have guessed that the surly, scarred Spaniard was a nocturnal predator with a taste for blood. Her scientific mind simply could not contemplate the possibility of the existence of fairy-tale monsters. Why was he friends with the Duke and Duchess of Burnrath?

Rafael released her momentarily to flag down an approaching hackney. Cassandra attempted to bolt, but his arm snaked around her waist the moment the carriage slowed. Cassandra’s fists clenched with silent recrimination. Drat, I should have fled the moment I glimpsed his fangs. Then again, with the impossible speed he’d displayed earlier, such an attempt certainly would have been futile. As if to concur, a tremor ran through her belly at the heat of his grip. Did he steal his warmth from her, or did his body produce his own?

With unyielding strength, he lifted her into the conveyance and settled next to her on the rickety bench seat. Again, her stomach pitched in the most alarming manner.

“To Burnrath House, number six, Rosemead Street,” he clipped out to the driver.

The driver, worn and weathered for such a young age, eyed the vampire nervously, his gaze unwittingly darting back to Rafael’s facial scars. “Aye, guv’nor.”

As the carriage bobbed and rumbled down the cobblestone street, Cassandra trembled with intense awareness at the feel of the hard, warm body pressed next to hers. One of the wheels struck a pothole, nearly tossing her to the floor, but Rafael held her securely with gentle strength. How often she had dreamed of being this close to him…closer, if she were to acknowledge the truth of those wicked visions. No wonder my mother-in-law called me unnatural. I’ve been smitten with a vampire the entire time.

Quickly and as intensely as lightning, the memory of his mouth on her neck sent a shiver down her spine.

This could not be happening. Clearly she was dreaming. She pinched the sensitive skin on the back of her left hand…and bit her lip at the sharp pain.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rafael asked.

She eyed him warily. “I am trying to wake up from this fantastical dream.”

He raised a brow and grumbled something in Spanish.

The hackney stopped outside the wrought-iron gates of Burnrath House. The enormous Elizabethan manor loomed over them like a menacing sentinel. Meager candlelight illuminated the windows, making them look like hungry eyes.

As Rafael led her down the drive, Cassandra observed that the once-manicured lawn was now wild and overgrown. The butler who greeted them at the door was not Burke, who served the Duke and Duchess of Burnrath. In fact, not only did he look too young to be a butler, with his bright yellow hair and boyish blue eyes, but he wasn’t wearing livery. The young man’s eyes narrowed with suspicion and malice as they raked across her with decidedly un-servile insolence.

“William, this is Lady Rosslyn, my prisoner,” Rafael began without preamble. “She is not to leave this house unsupervised.”

William’s eyes widened momentarily and his fangs glowed in the candlelight. “Yes, my lord.”

More vampires? Cassandra froze, all of her instincts crying to flee from this den of monsters. So that was why Rafael had dispensed with the former servants. And the lack of good staff was apparent the moment Rafael led her inside. Even in the dim candlelight, she could see that the house lacked upkeep. Cobwebs hung from the rafters and covered the unlit gas lamps in the drawing room.

Disgruntled with the vampire’s rudeness, she swiped a finger across a mahogany side table, grimaced at the dust, and gave William a pointed stare. Have I gone mad? an inner voice gasped. I should be planning my escape, not taunting vampires about their poor housekeeping!

William bared his fangs further. Rafael pulled her away, though she swore she heard him chuckle under his breath.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs and another male emerged, peering at her curiously with glittering sherry eyes. “What is this I hear about a prisoner?”

Rafael squeezed her arm before addressing the man. “Anthony, this is Lady Rosslyn. She’s the one who’s been skulking about the cemetery.”

“This is our fierce vampire hunter?” Anthony laughed and ran a hand through tousled chestnut hair.

Rafael’s lips curled in a scowl. “Not a hunter at all. Merely a grave robber.”

Cassandra bristled at the term. She was a scientist, not a common thief. “I was going to put it back!”

“Grave robber?” Anthony gaped, revealing his fangs. “She looks too fancy for such a dirty crime. Well, if she’s no threat to us, why is she a prisoner?”

Other than a deepening scowl, Rafael continued to ignore her. “Because she is one of those rare mortals who possess an unyielding mind, I was unable to extinguish her memory of our encounter.”

“I see. So we will be keeping her then?” The other vampire smiled playfully for a moment. Then his mirth dimmed. “Until…”

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