Quite, quite well.
But as the day passed, her wounded pride had slowly given way to common sense.
Sebastian St. Ives had no right to give her orders, or even to question her decisions. He had been highhanded and utterly out of line. But despite his harsh words, she sensed that it had not been mere arrogance that had caused his annoying behavior.
Instead she sensed that his anger had come from a very genuine concern for her welfare, a concern that had been absent from her life for so long that she found it difficult to accept.
Ruefully, she began to realize that perhaps she had overreacted. She was so accustomed to battling for her right to defend and protect her brother that she had instinctively lashed out. It was now so deeply ingrained that she did not always realize when her heart was overruling her common sense.
And, too, if she were being completely honest with herself, she had to admit that a portion of her prickly reaction had been pure self-preservation.
She might not fully understand why her blood tingled and her heart raced when she was near Sebastian. Or even why he lingered in her thoughts when she had far more important matters to ponder. But she was wise enough to realize that her awareness made her wish for dangerous things. Feelings and sensations better left forgotten.
She was still pacing aimlessly when a noise from the garden had her moving toward the window. Just for a moment, her heart stopped and she feared what she might discover prowling in the dark. A shadow. A killer. A monster.
Instead, her eyes caught sight of the sleek, black cat that prowled haughtily across the garden, knocking over a crumbling statue and a forgotten bucket as he slowly strolled toward the nearby hedge.
Her momentary fear shifted to annoyance. The noise the cat was making was certain to wake William. Gads, it might wake the entire neighborhood. And when he discovered his beloved pet missing, nothing would keep him from going in search.
Blast, blast, blast.
How could she risk having her brother out of the house? Not only did she worry that the madman might return, but she could not deny a lingering fear that Mr. Ryan might be lurking about the neighborhood, hoping to capture her brother the moment he appeared.
The answer, of course, was that she could not.
With a heavy sigh, Amelia reluctantly made her way through the silent house and into the garden. Although she had boastfully stated she would do whatever necessary to protect William, she was not completely witless, no matter what Sebastian might claim. Indeed, she was quite intelligent enough to feel a measure of unease as she pursued the demon-spawned cat across the garden and around the narrow town house.
She would not go far, she promised herself silently. No further than the end of the block. After that, the stupid cat would be on its own.
Almost as if sensing her determination, the stray hovered a moment at the edge of the narrow street before streaking across the pavement to the tall hedge. From the leafy concealment, two shining eyes regarded Amelia, as if daring her to come and rescue him.
Muttering a string of curses wholly unfit for a proper young maiden, Amelia marched across the street and bent down to attempt to recover the beast. One day she would discover precisely how the cat continued to find its way from the house, and then she would bring a firm end to these midnight outings. A very firm end.
Intent upon her efforts to force her arms through the hedge and still uttering words fit only for a stable hand, Amelia took little note of the odd chill that suddenly seemed to fill the air. Not even when a rash of goose bumps feathered over her skin.
“Ah. A most peculiar, if rather delightful, sight.”
Amelia nearly leaped from her skin at the sound of the faintly mocking voice. With a small squeak she abruptly straightened to discover a handsome gentleman with golden curls and elegant attire standing mere inches from her.
“Oh.”
“Did I startle you? Forgive meâthat certainly was not my intention.”
The stranger smiled, but Amelia was unnervingly aware that it did not quite reach the hard, dark eyes. She took an instinctive step backward. Despite the aristocratic features and refined manners, there was something about this gentleman she did not trust.
“I fear that I did not hear you approach.”
He deliberately lifted his brows. “You appeared quite involved with the hedge. Have you perhaps lost something of value?”
“My brother's cat,” she reluctantly confessed.
“Ah. Allow me.” Before Amelia could protest, the man had reached into the hedge and, with disgustingly little effort, plucked the renegade cat through the branches. He even managed to ignore the spitting and hissing as he placed the stray into Amelia's arms. “There we are.”
Attempting to calm the cat that continued to hiss in anger at the stranger, she forced a measure of gratitude to her countenance.
“You must forgive this ungrateful wretch. He is a stray who has never learned a modicum of good manners.”
That cold smile widened to reveal large, white teeth. “I, on the other hand, have always possessed the most exquisite manners. Allow me to introduce myself. Mr. Ramone, at your service.”
He performed a half bow and Amelia forced herself to ignore the urge to flee to the safety of her house. He had, after all, saved William's pet.
“A . . . pleasure.”
Mr. Ramone regarded her with a razor-sharp gaze. “And you, of course, must be Miss Hadwell.”
Amelia sucked in a sharp breath. How could this stranger possibly know her name?
“Have we met before?”
“No, but the agent pointed you out when he first showed me the town house I have rented for the season. I believe he presumed that I would view the neighborhood more favorably if I realized such a beautiful maiden was near. He was quite correct.”
She clutched the cat tighter, not at all fond of the thought that this man might have been watching her when she was unaware.
There was something . . . wrong about him.
“You live near?” she forced herself to inquire.
He waved a thin, pale hand toward the house behind the hedge. “Only a few steps away.”
“I see.”
Almost as if sensing her odd revulsion, his thin lips twitched. “I have been seeking an opportunity for an introduction, but you have proved to be remarkably evasive.”
She covertly shifted even further from the looming gentleman. If it were up to her, she would be even more evasive in the future.
“I live very quietly.”
“Yes, I know.” He deliberately glanced toward her darkened home. “With your brother William, is it not? A charming young gentleman.”
“You know my brother?” she demanded in surprise.
“We have occasionally crossed paths.” His gaze abruptly returned to her, dark eyes glittering in the moonlight. “There are, of course, those in the neighborhood who warn that he is dangerous, but I pay little heed to such nonsense.”
She stiffened in outrage at his offhand words. “My brother is not dangerous.”
“Certainly not.” The thin fingers touched the golden curls, as if to ensure they were still in perfect order. “As I said, I find him to be quite charming. Unfortunately, there are always those who delight in believing the worst of others.”
“They are fools,” she said between clenched teeth.
“Perhaps.” He gave a smooth shrug. “Still, I do feel it incumbent upon me to warn you that there have been a few rather unfortunate rumors.”
Although she had already suspected that gossip would be flying about the neighborhood, Amelia discovered her stomach heaving with queasiness.
“What rumors?”
“That poor William was somehow involved in the death of that woman.”
Her breath caught. It was all so utterly unfair, she seethed grimly. William was the very last person who would harm another. Those who did not truly know him had no right to make such ghastly judgments.
“It is not true.”
“I did not believe so for a moment.” Mr. Ramone pressed a hand to his heart, as if to show his sincerity, but once again she was aware of the cold hardness of his gaze. “Indeed, I have done my best to put a firm halt to such unpleasant speculations.”
“I . . . thank you,” she forced herself to mutter.
He took a step closer, ignoring the cat, which continued to hiss at him in warning. Just for a moment, that remorseless gaze seemed to flick down to the amulet that hung about her neck, but it lifted so quickly it was impossible to be certain.
“However, it does not improve matters to have a Bow Street runner asking questions about your brother. It encourages others to consider him guilty, whether he is or not.”
Amelia's lips thinned. Did he think she was ignorant? Of course she realized Mr. Ryan's blatant interest in William was bound to cause trouble. Unfortunately, she had yet to be put in charge of Bow Street.
“There is little I can do to stop Mr. Ryan from asking questions,” she retorted with a decided snap.
The carved features hardened briefly in a dangerous fashion before he was visibly sheathing his emotions behind a mask of seeming compassion.
A compassion that made her as uneasy as any display of anger.
“I did not mean to upset you, Miss Hadwell,” he said in oily-smooth tones. “I only speak of William's troubles out of concern. I wish you to know that if you ever have need, you may depend upon me.”
“That is very kind, but unnecessary, I assure you.”
That cruel hardness returned to his expression at her firm words. His smile, however, never faltered.
“Without modesty, I assure you that I can offer you whatever protection you need.”
The chill in the air deepened abruptly and Amelia unconsciously licked her dry lips. She wanted to be away from this man, she suddenly realized. As far away as possible.
“I must return home.”
The false smile disappeared abruptly. Amelia tensed, not at all certain the man would willingly allow her to simply walk away. His gaze once again strayed toward the amulet that glowed softly in the moonlight. He stiffly offered her a bow.
“Of course. It is very late.” He straightened, the thin face appearing almost skeleton-like in the shadows. “You will recall my offer, I trust?”
“Yes.”
Dipping a hurried curtsy, Amelia turned away, more relieved than she cared to admit at the thought of being away from Mr. Ramone. But even as she was nearing the safety of her home, Amelia suddenly halted.
There was a smell in the air. Cold steel, and something rather foul. A frown pulled at her brows. What was that odor? And why did she sense that she had smelled it before?
Oddly, it seemed vitally important that she remember.
“Is something the matter?”
Amelia jumped as she realized she was foolishly lingering in the dark street when she should be hurrying home with all speed.
“No. Good night.”
Not allowing herself the opportunity to be distracted again, Amelia hurriedly crossed the street and entered the blessed familiarity of her garden.
Sebastian had been right, she admitted ruefully.
She had been a fool to roam the streets at this hour. Even if it had been to ensure the safety of William. Only sheer luck had kept her from being harmed.
A luck that was destined to fail her eventually.
Chapter 5
Sebastian knew the moment Amelia left the protection of her home. Just for a moment, he froze in disbelief; then, tossing aside the large book he had been futilely attempting to study, he swept across the library and down the stairs.
Bloody hell. He would throttle her, he silently cursed as he charged through the house and out the back door. Although she had boldly claimed she would go in search of the killer who stalked the streets, he had not thought she would be so foolish. Well, at least not foolish enough to begin any such search during the middle of the night, he swiftly amended.
Now, because of her stubborn courage, she was alone and vulnerable. He had to reach her before she could be harmed.
Then he would throttle her.
Entering the garden, Sebastian never paused as he slipped toward the dark lane. Without being fully bonded with Amelia, he could only sense that she was somewhere ahead of him, but he knew that the closer he came to her the easier it would be to locate her.
Despite his attention being sharply focused upon Amelia, Sebastian did not miss the faint prickle that raced over his skin.
Halting his steps, he carefully considered his surroundings. There was a vampire near. Very near. And oddly able to mask his identity.
His expression hardened with determination. He did not know who the mysterious vampire was, but he was certain that it posed a danger to Amelia. He would have to deal with the threat before he could return the maiden to her home.
Cautiously angling across the lane, Sebastian allowed his senses to lead him toward the derelict stables. There was no noise, no indication that there was anyone near, but he did not hesitate. Entering the darker shadows of the stables, he stepped over a fallen beam and glanced about the empty stalls and overhead loft.
For a moment there was nothing to see. Nothing beyond dust and cobwebs. Then, just when he was beginning to wonder if he had been mistaken, a faint fog began to form in a distant corner.
More out of instinct than actual fear, Sebastian reached beneath his coat to remove the dagger. He would prefer to avoid a fight if possible. Violence was abhorrent to him, and violence toward a brother was nearly unthinkable. But, he would not allow Amelia to be harmed. Whatever it might take.
Keeping a careful watch on the fog that continued to move ever closer, Sebastian once again attempted to determine who it was that stalked ever nearer. A frown marred his brow as he sensed nothing but emptiness in the fog. It was as if it were no more than an illusion.
Which was ridiculous. He had distinctly perceived the presence of a vampire. It was here. Somewhere.
Clenching the dagger in his hand, he heard nothing but his own shallow breathing. Nothing until there was a faint scrape behind him. Attempting to turn, he was halted as a sudden, searing pain abruptly flared through his body.
With a gasp of agony, Sebastian fell to his knees. From behind, someone was relentlessly stabbing him with a sharp blade, the steel digging deep into his body and twisting before being wrenched out and thrust in again. He attempted to twist away but the blade followed. Over and over it bit into his flesh, the sheer savagery of the attack nearly overwhelming.
Through a haze, Sebastian could feel the hot, sticky flood of blood seeping over his skin, and worse, his strength was being ruthlessly drained away.
He had to do something. And soon.
Ignoring the white blaze of agony, Sebastian leaned forward until his hands touched the dirt. He was careful to keep a grip on the dagger; then, with a grim effort, he kicked his leg out behind him. His foot connected solidly with a leg and he was rewarded by the sound of a muffled grunt. He would not go quietly, he promised himself. Once again he kicked out, but with frustrating speed, his attacker managed to slip to one side.
Realizing his danger, Sebastian attempted to angle his head away from the vampire, but his movements were sluggish and a heavy object connected with his skull with rattling force. The world went momentarily dark before he forced himself back toward the pain that throbbed relentlessly. No. He had to remain conscious. If he were to be overcome, then Amelia would be helpless.
He sensed the mysterious attacker had once again lifted his arm to strike another blow and with sheer desperation he flung himself to one side. At the same moment a sound from the doorway of the stable echoed through the air.
Having sacrificed the last of his fading energy, Sebastian could do nothing to stop the villain from attacking him, nor the intruder. Instead he could only lie upon the hard ground as he rasped agonized breaths.
Inwardly, he cursed his weakness, but he knew he could do nothing. Without rest to restore his strength he was as helpless as a babe.
Barely keeping the darkness at bay, Sebastian vaguely heard the sounds of approaching footsteps and the dry hiss of an indrawn breath. A part of him awaited the blow that would send him into oblivion; at the same time, he ludicrously clutched the dagger as if he hoped the fool would conveniently lie down next to him so he could stab him.
He supposed that time passed, although it was difficult to determine with his head filled with fog. Then, soft and comforting hands touched his face.
“Sebastian, can you hear me?” a husky female voice whispered near his ear.
He lifted his head, only to discover that his right eye had swollen shut.
“Who is it?”
“Nefri.”
A sigh was wrenched from his burning throat. He was saved. The ancient vampire was by far the most powerful of all. Even without the Medallion. None would challenge her.
He did not know what had brought her to the abandoned stables, but he had never been more relieved in his Immortal life.
He coughed, the bitter taste of blood filling his mouth. “Forgive me for not rising,” he said wryly.
“Be at ease, my dear.” The elder vampire gave a disapproving click of her tongue as her hands ran lightly over his battered body. “Without the Medallion, I cannot heal you properly.”
Sebastian opened his one eye to assure her that he only needed rest when a searing heat abruptly raced through his blood. His teeth clenched in shock and his legs jerked. He felt as if he were being roasted from the inside out. Then, as swiftly as the heat had struck, it was fading.
Surprisingly, Sebastian discovered the throbbing aches had muted to a near-bearable level, and that he was even capable of rising to a sitting position. Standing, however, was still out of the question.
“That is better,” he murmured. “Thank you.”
“Just remain here for a bit. You must give yourself time to recover.”
As the darkness receded, Sebastian began to regain a portion of his shattered wits. With Nefri near, there was little to fear. Still, he wanted to ensure that he was not about to face another savage attack.
“The vampire . . . he is gone?”
Nefri shifted so that she was kneeling within view of his undamaged eye. He was rather surprised to discover she was attired in a bright, patched skirt and the loose blouse generally associated with a Gypsy. Her silver hair hung about her shoulders and her arms were covered with numerous bracelets. It was her expression, however, that at last captured and held his attention. Even in the shadows, he could tell that it was troubled.
“Yes, he is gone.”
“It was odd. I could sense his presence, but not his identity. He is very powerful.”
Nefri nodded slowly. “And very dangerous. Whoever this is, he has called upon ancient powers that have been forbidden.”
Sebastian swallowed a curse. His return to London was proving to be complicated enough without the added distraction of a vampire using dark powers.
“Do you know who it is?”
“No. I do fear, however, that he is determined to claim the Medallion.”
Medallion. Sebastian's heart came to a frozen halt as he recalled the reason he had left his home in the first place.
“Amelia,” he breathed in anxious tones.
Nefri gave a rueful nod of her head. “Yes. While you were being lured to these stables, she was confronted by Drake.”
Instinctively he attempted to rise, only to fall back to his knees as a wave of dizziness rushed through him.
“Damn.”
A gnarled hand reached out to touch his shoulder. “Do not fear. She is safely returned home.”
He exhaled a sharp breath of relief, although his expression remained tight with concern. The woman was going to drive him to madness. To even think of her being in the company of Drake while he was incapable of rushing to her rescue was enough to make his stomach clench and the throbbing in his head increase to a nearly unbearable level.
“She is . . . difficult,” he muttered in disgust.
The elder vampire lifted her brows. “She possesses the spirit necessary to protect the Medallion, I will agree.”
“Oh yes, she possesses a wretched amount of spirit,” he swiftly agreed, his hand reaching to touch the deep gash on his temple. “Unfortunately, she has no notion of the danger she courts so blithely.”
Nefri tilted her head to one side, as if considering his words.
“I believe she senses the danger, but she is a woman who feels a very deep sense of loyalty. One cannot fault her for such a commendable trait.”
Oh no? At the moment, Sebastian would willingly do more than fault her stubborn sense of loyalty. What good would such a wondrous trait do her if she were to be killed?
“That loyalty might very well endanger the Medallion,” he retorted, not at all prepared to admit that his frustration was more in fear for Amelia than the ancient artifact. “She will do whatever is necessary to keep her brother safe. Including handing her amulet to Drake if she had to.”
Nefri regarded him with a steady gaze. “There is that danger, certainly.”
He growled impatiently. “Then why do you leave the Medallion with her?”
A faint smile touched the lined countenance. “You must understandâthe Medallion is more than mere metal. It has been imbued with blessings that allow it to bestow powers upon the one who has it. In return, however, the Medallion takes on the qualities of whoever possesses it. Goodness or evil. Love or hate. That is why I chose Miss Hadwell. For her courage and ability to care so deeply for her brother. It is also why it is so important to stop the traitors. In the wrong hands, the power of the Medallion would be terrible indeed.”
Sebastian frowned. As a scholar he had, of course, studied the Medallion. He understood the history and the powers. He had even managed to unravel the complex spell that had been used to create the Veil with the assistance of the Medallion. Still, he had not truly considered the artifact's ability to echo the qualities of who might possess it.
Nefri had clearly considered the maidens she had chosen to bond with the amulets. He could hardly protest her choice simply because he was becoming far too attached to Amelia.
He heaved an unconscious sigh. “Then perhaps it should be another who is sent to protect Miss Hadwell.”
The vampire blinked in surprise. “Why?”
“I have managed to do no more than prod her into foolish behavior. She does not trust me.”
Her unwavering gaze regarded him for a long moment. “I believe that you underestimate yourself, Sebastian,” she at last said softly. “You possess a quiet, studious nature, but your strength is undeniable. Miss Hadwell will turn to you in her time of need.”
Sebastian unconsciously grimaced, recalling the harsh words that he had exchanged with Amelia only a few hours earlier.
“I fear she is more likely to believe she is capable of facing any danger on her own. She is extraordinarily fearless.”
“Then we must simply do what we can to protect her, with or without her awareness,” Nefri said firmly.
He paused a long moment, his heart troubled. “Yes.”
Easily sensing his lingering disquiet, Nefri leaned forward to regard him with a hint of concern.
“Sebastian, is there something more troubling you?”
He briefly considered denying his most pressing hesitation. He was supposed to be a gentleman of sense. A gentleman who observed and studied others with a scholar's aloof objectivity. It was not easy to admit, even to himself, that he had somehow lost that necessary edge.
“I am not as . . . detached as I should be,” he reluctantly confessed.
Surprisingly, Nefri raised her brow as if puzzled by his admission.
“And why do you believe you should be detached?”
Sebastian frowned. “If I am to outwit Drake, then I must have my senses clear. Something that is impossible when Miss Hadwell is near.”
Without warning, the vampire gave a low chuckle. “Do not fret, Sebastian. You are perfectly suited to be a Guardian for the Medallion.”