Read My Lord Immortality Online
Authors: Alexandra Ivy
My Lord Immortality (14 page)
“Good evening, Sebastian.”
Instantly on alert, he moved forward, not stopping until he was a mere breath from her.
“What is the matter, my dear?”
Her gaze rested briefly on his bare chest before reluctantly lifting. “Nothing. I could not sleep, so I thought perhaps a book . . .”
The words trailed away as she moistened her lips in a revealing motion. Sebastian gritted his teeth, feeling the fierce awareness of her own smoldering desire. He should return to his chambers, he sternly warned himself. The heavy pulse of awareness was too potent on this night. It would take one glance, one touch for both of them to be consumed in flames.
But even as he acknowledged the peril, he discovered himself lost in the dark beauty of her eyes.
“Ah.”
“I am sorry if I woke you.”
“No, I was not asleep.”
The small pink tongue once again peeked out to touch the fullness of her lips. Sebastian swallowed a groan.
“It is very warm, is it not?” she demanded in husky tones. “I do not recall a summer in London so smothering before.”
If it had been warm before, it was now blazing. A fine sheen of perspiration spread over his skin.
“Yes, it is very warm. Do you dislike the heat?”
“It can be discomforting,” she admitted.
His lips curved in wry acknowledgment. “Indeed.”
As if realizing he was speaking of more than the temperature in the air, her absurdly long lashes fluttered downward. The hint of confusion was oddly erotic.
“At least William is settled for the night. He was rather restless earlier.”
Sebastian sucked in a deep breath. The last thing in the world he desired to discuss was Amelia's brother. Not when she was standing mere inches from his stirring body. Not when the scent of her filled his senses. Not when he had only to lower his head to capture the sweet lips in a kiss that would sweep both of them into paradise.
“I know that it is difficult for him to remain hidden,” he followed her lead with an effort. “It is little wonder that he is restless.”
“Yes.” She paused before wrinkling her nose. “I fear that he sneaked the kittens into his bed. It was very naughty of him and I have made him promise to return them to the kitchen the first thing in the morning. I hope you do not mind?”
“Of course not.” He regarded her pale complexion for a long moment. “You are very patient with him.”
She lifted her gaze in surprise at his words. “He is my brother. And I love him.”
“You speak of it so casually, but such devotion is rare. I can think of no other maiden that I have ever encountered who would willingly surrender her own needs to ensure the happiness of another.”
A hint of color touched her cheeks. “That is absurd.”
“Is it? Tell me how many of your acquaintances are struggling to provide a home for their family rather than fluttering their way through the Season?”
The blush only deepened. “Sebastian.”
Sebastian offered a slow smile. She would never admit that she had done anything extraordinary in saving her brother from the asylum.
“Very well.” His gaze shifted on its own to the provocative shimmer of her pale skin. The brief distraction had done nothing to ease the tension that throbbed between them. “I will leave you to find your book.”
He had every intention of turning to leave, but even as he sternly commanded his reluctant feet to move, she was reaching up to lay her hands softly upon the bare skin of his chest.
“No. I . . . I do not wish to be alone.”
Sebastian froze, his throat closing as he battled the dark lust that flared through him. Not now, he fiercely warned his surging passions. Amelia was clearly troubled. She needed his strength, not his aching desire.
Lifting his hands, he covered her fingers as they lay against him.
“What is it, Amelia?”
A frown tugged at her brows. “I do not know. It is ridiculous, but I cannot be at ease. There is something in the air that troubles me.”
Sebastian felt a measure of surprise. How could she possibly sense the vague threat that had plagued him throughout the day? Unless . . . his gaze lowered to where the Medallion lay against her skin.
“I will remain if you wish,” he said in low tones.
“Thank you.”
He regarded the dark, vulnerable eyes, his desire abruptly threaded with deep tenderness.
“Shall I read to you the intriguing philosophies of Plato? Or do you prefer the teachings of Aristotle?” he teased.
A prompt grimace eased her frown. “Neither.”
“Philistine,” he chided.
“I wish you to tell me of yourself.”
He was caught off guard by her sudden demand. “What do you wish to know?”
“Everything.”
“Everything?”
The raven curls rippled down her back as she tilted her head upward to meet his bemused gaze.
“Tell me of your life.”
He gave a rather wry smile, recalling the endless years that had rolled past with barely a ripple. There had always been a vague contentment in his studies. Even an edge of arrogant satisfaction in his superior existence.
It was not until Amelia had crashed into his life that he realized that there had been something missing in that placid contentment. Now he feared that he was very much addicted to the chaotic passions she had unleashed.
“You would no doubt consider it a tedious existence,” he admitted. “I devote most of my hours to various studies and debates with my brethren.”
Not surprisingly, she wrinkled her nose in distaste. “There are no entertainments?”
His smile widened. “Our view of entertainment tends to be less frantic than that of humans. We are Immortals, after all, and possess endless opportunities to appreciate a fine work of art or compose the perfect sonata. I have devoted centuries to a single sculpture. Mortals do not enjoy such luxury.”
Amelia stiffened at his words, her expression becoming guarded. Belatedly he feared that his words must have reminded her vividly of the differences between them.
“No, I suppose we do not,” she murmured.
“Amelia, what is it?”
“You are an Immortal. How insignificant a mere maiden must seem to you.”
“No.” He squeezed her hands tightly. “Never insignificant.”
The dark eyes searched his with a barely concealed anxiety. “But how could I not be? I shall be here and gone while you continue for an eternity.”
Reaching out, he softly cupped her cheek in his hand. Insignificant? The mere thought was enough to make him bite back a choking laugh. She might as well claim that the moon and the sun were insignificant.
“Amelia.” He patiently waited for her gaze to lock with his own.
“Yes?”
“As I said, not even vampires can read the future. You are the bearer of the Medallion. It offers you powers far beyond those of other mortals.”
Her brow wrinkled in concentration. “Powers such as the binding you spoke of?”
His heart missed a full beat. Now was not the time to speak of such things. Not when the darkness was weaving its potent magic.
“Yes.”
Seemingly unaware of the danger kindling in the air, she slowly brushed her fingers over the skin of his chest. Sparks of delicious heat attacked him.
“What does it mean? What will happen to us?”
His thoughts threatened to cloud up as he grimly grasped her fingers and held them still. He knew precisely what was about to happen if she continued to stroke him in such a fashion.
“I think it best that we discuss such things on the morrow,” he husked.
“Sebastian.” She regarded him steadily, her expression somber. “You have done your best to avoid and distract me. I would far prefer the truth. What has happened between us?”
Chapter 12
Amelia felt light-headed as she gazed into the impossible beauty of Sebastian's countenance.
The odd sensation could easily have been blamed upon the unbearable heat. Or the sleepless nights. Or even the disturbing tension that had plagued her throughout the day.
But she knew quite well that none of those could explain her pounding heart and the honey heat that poured through her blood.
It was those eyes, she silently concluded. Those silvery eyes with their eternal wisdom and that calm, gentle strength. Eyes that could hold her heart captive with frightening ease.
And of course, she wryly acknowledged, her sense of dizziness was not notably eased by the wide, naked bulk of his chest. It was little wonder that gentlemen were expected to keep themselves decently covered. If maidens were exposed to the sight of smooth male skin stretched over muscles that rippled with fluid ease, there might very well be a riot throughout the ballrooms of London.
Inanely she recalled the feel of warm silk as her fingers explored the fascinating planes and angles of that chest. An exploration that might have continued far longer if he had not brought such a firm halt to her forbidden pleasure.
Her breath caught and she sternly chastised herself for the treacherous meanderings of her thoughts. Unbridled lust might be a novel and startlingly delicious experience for an innocent maiden, but at least it was a perfectly normal, human emotion. Her concern should be focused upon those sensations that were decidedly foreign.
Sensations no mere mortal should be capable of experiencing.
With an effort she sucked in her breath and regarded her companion's closed expression. Tonight she was determined to have answers to the questions that had plagued her for days.
“Sebastian?” she prompted as the silence stretched.
He grimaced at her expectant expression. “You can be very stubborn.”
“Yes.”
“And far too persistent.”
“Yes.”
A reluctant smile twitched at his lips. “Ah, Amelia, what am I to do with you?”
“What is it you desire to do with me?”
Stillness cloaked him at her unwitting words, the silver eyes darkening with a dangerous awareness.
“That is a very intriguing question, my dear.”
Amelia did not miss the sudden tension that crackled in the air. Hell's bells, she would have to be dead not to have noticed. It seared over her skin and raced through her blood. Still, she grimly refused to be distracted upon this occasion.
“Sebastian, tell me of the binding,” she said in a determined tone.
Just for a moment he hesitated, as if debating whether or not to deny her request; then, with a faint sigh, he loosened his grip on her hands and took a step backward. Amelia instantly felt the loss of his comforting touch.
“It is what I suppose mortals would consider falling in love,” he grudgingly explained. “Unlike mortals, however, such love is not mere emotion that may well fade over time. Instead, vampires become a part of one another.”
“A part of one another . . .”
Amelia slowly nodded her head. Yes. That was precisely what she felt.
“That is why I sense you even when you are not near? And why I can feel the very beat of your heart?”
His gaze briefly strayed to where her own heart beat a rapid tattoo against her chest.
“That is a part of the bonding.”
“Only a part?” she prompted.
The slender fingers rose to thrust through the bronze thickness of his hair. His movement caused the muscles of his chest to bunch and flex in a most fascinating manner. Amelia ruthlessly bit the side of her tongue to keep her thoughts from straying down unwelcome paths.
“When a vampire discovers his true mate they share what is known as the Immortal Kiss,” he continued at last. “It is the sharing of blood that creates an unbreakable connection. They become one heart, one soul, one mind.”
“Oh, that is beautiful,” she murmured softly, oddly not at all disturbed by the thought of such an intimate joining. Perhaps it was because she had already experienced the tentative edges of binding. Or perhaps it was simply the realization that being eternally connected with this gentleman was something to be cherished, not feared. “Is there a vampire that you have shared this Immortal Kiss with?”
His lips twitched. “No. It happens but once and lasts for all eternity.”
“Oh.” Her brows drew together. “But . . .”
“What?”
Her wistful imaginings were suddenly shadowed by a prosaically human fear. “I am not a vampire. How could I feel such things?”
He paused a long moment, his gaze lowering to the golden amulet that glowed with unnatural light in the dark room.
“I believe that the Medallion has made you far more sensitive than most mortals.” His smile was tender. “In truth, I often forget that you are human.”
She briefly touched the warm Medallion, her frown remaining intact. Yes, the Medallion had altered her. Perhaps in more ways than she knew. Yet, her concern remained firmly focused upon Sebastian rather than herself.
Whatever happened in the future, she had no regrets for having allowed Sebastian into her heart. It did not matter that he was a vampire, or even that he might very well leave her alone and unable ever to love again. He had opened her heart to the beauty and the wonder of truly joining her soul with another. He had taught her the perilous excitement of passion. What he had given her was a gift beyond price and one she would cherish forever. Or for as long as she had, she wryly amended.
Unfortunately, she feared that Sebastian was not nearly so accepting of the sudden, fierce whirlwind that had drawn them together.
“What will happen?” she asked softly.
The silver gaze moved over her pale features. “What do you mean?”
She stepped closer to him. “What will happen when you return to the Veil? Will you be able to resume the life you had before you came to London?”
“No.” His expression was somber as he slowly reached to take her hand. Keeping her gaze firmly locked with his own, he pressed her hand to the center of his chest. “The Veil protects us from bloodlust, but not from our own foolishness. You shall be a part of me no matter where I am.”
She felt the beat of his heart beneath her fingers, but more than that, she felt it deep within her. That steady, relentless beat that was now a part of her own pulse.
“I am sorry.”
He appeared startled by her words. “Why do you apologize?”
“This bindingâit does not please you.”
His breath rasped sharply through his teeth. “No, Amelia. You are mistaken. It pleases me very much.”
It pleased him? He certainly had a strange way of showing it.
“Then why do you avoid me?”
Beneath her fingers she could feel the sudden jerk of his heart.
“Because I do not trust myself when I am alone with you, Amelia. Without the Veil, my passions are . . . difficult to manage.”
She was once again forced to remind herself to breathe. Odd. She had never forgotten to breathe before she met Sebastian. But then, before Sebastian she had never felt as if she were drowning in a gentleman's gaze, or battled the urge to rub against bare male skin.
“Oh. I thought that you must not share my feelings. Or if you did, that you must regret them.”
A hint of amusement flashed through his eyes. “I have attempted to make myself feel regret. I was, after all, quite content with my peaceful, scholarly existence.”
“And did you succeed?”
“Not even for a moment.” Gently he lifted her fingers to press them to his warm lips. “I thought I could rationally choose what would bring me contentment. Fate, however, has decided otherwise.”
Amelia gave up on her attempts to catch her breath. Instead, she gazed deep into his eyes with a sense of wonderment. She wished she could capture and hold this moment forever.
“Sebastian . . .” Her words froze upon her lips. The giddy delight that filled her was abruptly stabbed with a malevolent sense of impending danger. Her eyes widened as she felt Sebastian stiffen in similar awareness. “What is that?”
“Drake.” With blinding speed, Sebastian had reached down to slip the dagger from his high boots.
Amelia lifted her hands to her throat. Just for a moment she had been able to forget about the ruthless killer who stalked her. Now she was brought firmly back to earth and a shudder raced through her.
“He is close.”
“Remain here,” he commanded as he turned to move toward the door.
She bit her lip as a powerful fear clutched at her stomach. “Sebastian, be careful.”
He took only two steps before coming to a reluctant halt. “Bloody hell. It is too late.” Spinning toward her, Sebastian pointed toward the heavy desk that dominated the room. “Get over there.”
Amelia did not hesitate to obey. The mere thought of facing the bloodthirsty vampire was enough to make her tremble in terror.
As fast as she moved, however, she had barely reached the desk when a bone-deep chill entered the room. With wide eyes she watched Drake Ramone step into the library with slow, deliberate motions.
Almost inanely, she noted the perfect cut of his black coat and ivory breeches. Even his curls had been carefully crimped and brushed toward the thin face.
A perfect gentleman, she grimly acknowledged, unless one looked close enough to perceive the flat deadness of his eyes and the cold cruelty of his mouth.
A cruelty made even worse when a sneering smile curved the thin lips.
“Well, well, Sebastian,” he drawled as he deliberately regarded the taller gentleman's bare chest. “It appears that you are not entirely the eunuch that I feared. Of course, I cannot approve of your taste. Mortals are so utterly repulsive to discriminating vampires.”
Sebastian's expression remained stoically indifferent to the insult. “What are you doing here, Drake?”
“I wished to speak with Miss Hadwell.” Slightly turning, the intruder performed a mocking bow toward the desk. “Good evening, my dear.”
Although consumed with a choking fear, Amelia managed to tilt her chin to what she hoped was an imperious angle.
“I have no desire to speak with you.”
Lethal fury flashed through the pale eyes before the taunting smile was forcibly returned to his lips.
“What you desire matters little, my dear. I have given you the opportunity to be sensible. Now, I fear I must be more direct.”
Her hands instinctively shifted to grasp the amulet about her neck. “I will not give you the Medallion.”
“Oh, I believe you will.”
Across the room, Sebastian abruptly stepped toward his brother vampire, his expression set in determined lines.
“It will never belong to you, Drake.”
“My words are for Miss Hadwell,” the intruder snarled, his hands clenched at his side. “And after this evening I doubt your bothersome interference will be welcome.”
Sebastian growled from deep in his throat. “I have no patience with your riddlesâif you have something to say, then speak plainly.”
“Very well.” Drake held out a thin, skeleton-like hand. “Miss Hadwell, I desire the Medallion.”
Amelia took an instinctive step backward. “No.”
“Why do you remain so stubborn? It can mean nothing to you.”
“Sebastian has warned me of your plot to destroy the Veil and return vampires to London. I will not allow that to occur.”
His gaze narrowed to icy slits. “And you believe you are capable of standing in my way? You are a fool.”
Amelia readily concurred. She was a fool. Had she the least amount of sense she would be fleeing from this dangerous madman with all possible speed. Unfortunately, her knees were barely capable of holding her upright, never mind allowing her to move so much as a step.
Instead, she was forced to meet that threatening gaze with as much courage as she could muster.
“You cannot force me to give you the Medallion.”
“Ah, but I can,” he drawled.
Sebastian once again moved forward, placing himself between Amelia and the threatening vampire. In his hand the dagger glinted with deadly intent.
“Do not take a step, Drake,” he warned. “I do not desire to destroy you, but I will do whatever is necessary to protect Amelia.”
A harsh, rasping laugh echoed through the room. “I have warned you to remain out of this, Sebastian. Miss Hadwell will not thank you if some ghastly fate were to befall her beloved brother.”
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