Page 61 of Bite at First Sight

Despite that dreadful truth, her heart ached so severely that she almost wanted to die. Cassandra frowned as she shook off the macabre thought and clenched her fists. I will not give him that satisfaction!

Forcing her mind to cut itself from her tumultuous emotions, she focused instead on how to escape.

She would have to leave London; that much was for certain. She didn’t think William had lied about everything when he’d offered to aid her escape. Rafe probably could sense her Mark. It would be best to get out of his territory as soon as possible.

Besides, there was nothing for her in this city anymore. She’d always been an outcast, and now aside from Sir Patrick, she was completely ostracized. Sir Patrick would be willing to take her in, but there was no way she’d put him in danger. Rafe had said if she left this house, her life would be forfeit, along with any who offered her aid. Her fists clenched. Her life was also forfeit if she stayed.

So, where would she go? Unfortunately, her usually agile mind was drawing a blank—except for haunting images of Rafe’s rare tender smile and memories of his decadent kiss. No! That way lies madness. Closing her eyes, she tried to conjure up a prospective destination.

Regrettably, none came.

To her frustration, tears once more threatened. Maybe I’ll just catch any dratted ship and go wherever it takes me. The more she thought about it, the more attractive the idea became. Perhaps it was best that she didn’t have a destination planned. Theoretically, that should make her more difficult to track.

Cassandra threw open the wardrobe and began seizing gowns and throwing them on the bed. By the time she’d stripped the mahogany relic bare, she was panting in exhaustion.

Too late she realized that there was no way she’d be able to pack and haul a trunk without the vampires taking notice. Groaning in vexation, she fetched her valise and stuffed it with as many articles of clothing as would fit, along with a few novels.

Taking a deep breath, she hefted the stuffed valise over her shoulder and tried the door. It was unlocked. Rafe still seemed to trust her, even though he’d betrayed her trust. I must not think of him anymore.

Squaring her shoulders, Cassandra tiptoed down the corridor as quietly as possible. As she passed her laboratory, her mind and spirit screamed at her not to abandon her precious texts and equipment. Things she’d painstakingly worked for years to acquire. But they would be of no use to her if she was dead.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she carefully made her way down the servants’ staircase and out the back door.

As she left the rear gate reserved for servants and delivery men, Cassandra turned and looked back at the ancient Elizabethan mansion, yet she did not see it. All she could see was the glowing amber of Rafe’s eyes and all she could hear was the warmth in his voice as he called her “Querida.”

Go back! the lunatic inside her heart called.

Cassandra ignored its tempting plea and allowed logic to carry her away.

Nineteen

“My lord?” Elizabeth’s voice came from far away, as if obscured by thick fog.

Rafe focused his attention back on his new third-in-command. It was difficult, for the Mark between him and Cassandra was pulsing with searing pain. She was hurting. He longed to go to her, but he did not know what he could say.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I said, you do not intend to kill her, do you?” Elizabeth repeated, eyeing him warily.

He slammed his fist on the table, sending the chess pieces airborne before they clattered to the floor. “No, of course not! I have written letters to every vampire I call friend, asking them to Change her.” Crushing defeat wrenched his soul at his next admission. “Thus far, every reply has been a refusal. But I can’t kill her. I don’t know what to do.”

Rafe buried his face in his hands. The confession was crippling. He was supposed to be a leader, keeping order among his people, punishing the wicked, and protecting the innocents from harm. Now everything was slipping from his control.

“Have you told her this?” the vampire prodded. “Does she know that instead of preparing to kill her, you are doing everything in your power to see her live?”

Rafe’s head jerked up and he stared at her with dawning horror. No, he hadn’t told Cassandra anything of the sort. His pride had restrained him from revealing his legion of failures. What if she believed that he would truly—? He couldn’t finish the thought.

Elizabeth mistook his expression for one of outrage. “I apologize if I was insolent, my lord. I only say this because she appeared to be awfully distraught by your confession…and so terribly pale, as if she were facing the specter of Death himself.”

“No, Elizabeth. You are not at all insolent. You are wise.” Laboriously, as if the weight of all of his problems threatened to crush him, Rafe rose from his seat. “I, however, am a fool. Excuse me while I look in on her.”

As he slowly made his way up the stairs, Rafe racked his mind about how to assure Cassandra. He must make it clear to her that he had no intention of killing her; that much was certain. But other than that, what could he say? What if no vampire agreed to Change her? What then? If he refused to kill her, the Elders would likely send an enforcer to do the deed, then arrest him and possibly execute him.

Perhaps they could run away together… Rafe dashed away that tiny seed of hope before it could take root. He would be declared rogue then. He may even be hunted down, with a price on his head for disobeying an edict from the Elders. And with his scars and foreign looks, he would be easy to find.

Rafe’s shoulders slumped in defeat. If Cassandra could not be Changed, he would have to send her away for her own safety. Somewhere far away where she would be less likely to be noticed by other vampires…somewhere on the other side of the world, safe from the Elders’ immediate influence. He’d likely be punished for allowing her escape, but it would be worth it to know she lived.

The Americas would likely be the best option. He had not been to that vast and untamed land since he was an infant five centuries ago. The vampires there would sense his Mark on Cassandra, but they wouldn’t recognize his identity. Plenty of vampires Marked their mortal descendants out of sentimentality, so they would leave her alone and not think anything of it.

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