Lily

Ladies of the Night: Lily

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Ladies of the Night

Lily By

Sarah Dickson ADVANCED READER COPY: DISCLAIMER This Advance Reader Copy is the property of Sarah Dickson. The Advance Reader Copy may not be sold, rented, loaned, or copied. This is an uncorrected copy and may differ slightly from the final published novel, which will be available from Triskelion Publishing in August 2005 This work is copyrighted as of 2005 by Sarah Dickson.

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Chapter 1

The scent of roasted chestnuts from the street below filled Lily’s nostrils as she opened the window. The cold winter chill of February brushed her face, reminding her how warm her rooms were. The carriage, barely visible through the haze, stopped at the end of Wych Street near the Strand. She smiled. The occupant, Edward, one of her weekly regulars, preferred arriving an hour before dusk for a bit of recreational flagellation before supper. He made his way through the crowds, past the people huddling around the braziers, waiting for chestnuts to roast, to the side entrance below. Lily closed the window quickly. She checked the ties on her red leather corset, and looked in the mirror. Her red silk drawers complimented her copper hair. I like red on a woman, Edward had commented once. Such details were always important to keep. The clients paid more on each subsequent visit. Her hair fell to below her pale shoulders, just as Edward liked it. All her girls looked like her. It may seem vain to some but in fact the clientele loved it. Some men came in pairs and had the four of them at once. A good ménage was hard to beat. Lily grabbed her whip from the table, and left the room to greet her guest. Her footsteps barely made a noise on the wooden steps as she descended to the second level. On each side of the narrow corridor before her were four rooms, making a total of eight. Two were hired out for orgies and the occasional whipping, the remainder for more traditional tastes that required a bed. Maeve stood in front of a closed door, waiting. Younger than Lily and a penchant for whips, made her the ideal companion for the threesome. Her full lips, painted copper, matched her hair. Both contrasted sharply with her pale skin. She looked over Lily’s shoulder, smiling. “Edward. Have you been a good boy?” Lily turned around. Edward had just climbed the steps. Her acute senses indicated Edward’s heart was beating very strongly. He looked radiant in fact. Maeve also appeared to sense the difference. In Lily’s ear she whispered. “Are you sure no one else has tasted him and given blood back?”

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Her girls were not allowed to give any blood to their clients at all, only to take, and no more than a cupful at that. “Someone has,” Lily whispered. Edward’s demeanor appeared more confident than usual. “You are pleased to see me. Yes?” Lily raised her free hand to Edward. “Of course my dear, you are our favorite client.” Edward kissed the back of her palm. “You act so proper woman, but I know better.” The mischievous look in his eyes was new as well. Lily forced a smile. Get him inside and determine what has been done to him. “Of course I’m a respectable lady. How could you say I’m not?” She inclined her head to Maeve. “Open this door at once.” Maeve did so, closing it again after Edward had entered. This room was her finest and the most expensive to hire out. The richest men like quality and were prepared to pay for it. Red curtains, partly open, let in a discreet amount of light from the window. A large table stood in the middle of the room, with several chairs surrounding it. Maeve spun one of the chairs around. On the seat was a towel. Aside from the bureau against one wall, two others were covered with large mirrors. Alongside the last wall were erotic paintings showing men and women in various stages of sexual activity. Lily lifted the carafe from the table and poured red wine into a crystal glass. Edward took it and drank deeply. “Ahhhh.” Seeing he’d soon be ready, she raised her whip. “I think you need to be punished, don’t you Maeve.” Maeve undid a few ties on her red corset, revealing the tips of her breasts. “He’s been a naughty boy.” Edward licked his lips. “More.” Lily shrugged. Edward never bothered her girls sexually aside from an occasional fondle yet he seemed to be in an odd mood. Normally she read the minds of her clients to determine what kind of sexual experience they were after. She would then ease the connection, letting their own imaginations fuel their ardor in future sessions. It was also useful for control should there be problems. Edward had not required any intervention for a long time, and she felt guilty as she invaded his mind once more. A hazy wall greeted her. That was odd. Unless. She gave Maeve a sharp look. Maeve parted her lips a moment later. Lily didn’t need words. She’d confirmed he’d definitely been touched.

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But by whom. “What are you hussies looking so worried for? Think I’ll have a heart attack.” The wildness in his eyes was not a good sign at all. Lily kept her tone level. “You’re not a young man. Of course we care about your welfare.” He removed his coat, tossing it on a nearby hat stand. Lowering his breeches he displayed his flaccid member. “Then get on with servicing my welfare.” Maeve was about to protest but Lily silenced her. Edward had never been rude before either. It confirmed things were amiss. Was it one of her girls? Unlike humans, she could not freely enter the minds of her girls to detect if they were lying. Lily didn’t want to betray their trust by doing so. Maeve, she trusted most of all. She linked to her. Who do you think did this? It may be one of us or an outsider. We should try to get Edward to tell us. Interrogating each of her girls would be a last resort, if Edward didn’t admit the truth. Lily gripped Edward’s hand, indicating the chair. “Over there to receive your punishment.” He went willingly as the perfect submissive, so far so good. “Place your hands here.” She used red ribbons to tie his wrists to the back of the chair. “Bend over.” Backing away, she said to Maeve. “Teach him a lesson. I suggest dual interrogation. Every question that is wrong or he refuses to answer, deserves a lashing.” With the whip in hand, Maeve stood behind Edward’s pale buttocks. “What is the first question mistress?” “Did you taste blood within the last week?” He jerked his head upright. Carefully she reached into his mind. Maeve connected to Lily, her mind an anchor lest Edward attempted to break free. The cockiness fled from his voice. His lips moved, but no words came out. Lily pressed harder; not liking the coercion at all but frankly didn’t have the patience to draw this out. “No,” he said in a slurred voice. “Once please. Maeve.” The whip came down, hard, over his buttocks. His whole body shuddered. “Oh yes. That’s better.” Lily shook her head. “We’re playing a different game today Edward. It’s called getting to the truth.” He looked up sharply. A hint of defiance crossed his face. “I thought you would be pleased.” “Why?”

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“Surely a little blood cannot hurt, to rid the pain in my heart.” A taste was how it always began. To remain free of ailments resulted in greater amounts of blood being required over time. When the gift was refused, the recipient usually became violent, often resulting in his death. Edward was on the verge of becoming a liability. Lily tried not to recall the last time she went through this. A prominent politician had attacked her during sex. The decision to end his life had not been difficult, although the investigation afterwards had nearly seen her hanged. Sadness filled her as she considered breaking her oath never to kill again. She pushed it aside. Now was not the time to show any weakness or sentiment. She caressed his lower back. “Edward. You do recall that taking blood is banned, don’t you?” Anticipation filled his eyes. “Yes.” “And you defied that rule.” He nodded quickly. The fool really thinks this is a game. “Tell me who it is Edward and I’ll give you the best lashing you’ve ever experienced.” His eyes almost bulged. A glimpse at his member showed a marked reaction to her words. Maeve grinned. “Tell the truth Edward or I’ll suck you hard.” “Only if you whip me as well.” “If you don’t do as you’re told, we will take turns in sucking you, and no whips,” Lily said with mock severity. Fear crept across his face. He shook his head. “I promised not to tell.” She saw a flash of blonde hair appear in his mind. None of her girls had that hair color. She dared to hope. Maybe it was an outsider after all. “Are you saying we have competition?” A mask fell over his face. He went very rigid. It was as if he was being controlled from elsewhere. Maeve lowered the whip across his back, making him cry out. “More,” he pleaded. This was all wrong. Maeve looked up sharply. He’s being controlled. Lily nodded. I know and whoever has him is binding him tight. What do we do? Wait. Maybe whoever it is will loosen the hold on him.

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His grin went rigid, and not from the onset of orgasm. Suddenly he shuddered. Too late, she heard the sound of ripping as Edward freed himself from the chair. With a high pitched cry he lunged at Lily, who moved with ease to one side. He stumbled and fell to the floor. Edward scrambled to his feet. His face was flushed and his eyes glazed. He was no longer in control of his mind. Maeve raised the whip as if to defend herself. Her face went even paler. “Why has this been done to him?” It should have occurred sooner, this. As to why, Lily truly didn’t know. She swung to her right as Edward lunged again. She smelt fear emanate from his body. Words like fight it would be of no use in trying to control him. Whoever had planned this had shielded him well. On the next lunge Lily gripped his arm. Twisting it behind him she forced Edward to kneel. Quickly she nipped his neck. The woman’s face flashed before her. Constance. The youngest of the girls, one she could not believe would do this to her. She tried to connect mentally to Constance, but… nothing. An elbow into her stomach sent her reeling. Sliding across the floor she spun around, regaining her feet a heartbeat later. There was only one option left to her. Lily connected mentally to Maeve. Join me. Edward’s eyes widened in terror. He ran towards the door. Lily lunged, sending him sprawling on his back. Maeve descended on his cock. Lily sunk her teeth into his neck. Normally this would be a session where the man would be brought to sexual bliss as would Lily and Maeve by taking his blood. It was going to take all her willpower not to suck him dry. It had to be done if Edward had any chance of surviving. Edward bucked between them. Lily wasn’t immune from the sensual experience. Her passage dripped with the need to be fucked. She felt Maeve suck him, hard. His cries of orgasm were so powerful, Lily nearly broke free from his neck. Her whimpers met his cries. She came so hard that she had to let go, shuddering as she did so. Curse you Lily. The words had sounded distant but she was sure of the source. Constance. The grip on Edward’s mind fled. Constance’s influence had gone, for now. Vampires didn’t take kindly when one

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of their protégées was taken away. Constance would return to claim him, and Edward would be powerless to stop her. Maeve removed her mouth from his flaccid cock. “I could barely resist from taking more.” “When you take a life, the experience is a hundredfold,” Lily warned, as she had so many times over the years. The need to finish Edward off became overpowering. Lily got to her feet and backed away. Licking the remnants of blood from her lips she assessed Edward’s condition. He lay on the floor with a grin on his face. He tilted his head towards her. “That was unbelievable. I thought I was going to die.” You nearly did. “How do you feel?” “Like I’ve been well and truly fucked.” This was the Edward she knew. He slowly got to his feet, his movements unsteady. “What happened to me?” Edward would be exhausted by now. His hostility gone, Lily approached. Trying to make light of what had happened, she said. “You were under the influence of one of our girls. It was a very naughty thing for her to do.” He looked confused. “I recall this woman giving me some blood to make me feel better.” Lily handed his breeches to him. “Did she have a name?” “No. I met her after I left the Olympic theatre. She offered me a fuck for ten pounds. I considered that a bargain.

I suggested my carriage for comfort.

Mine mostly.

She was most

accommodating.” “She could have had the pox.” Not that it mattered if he did. Vampires were immune to disease. “Pale skinned she was, like the two of you, except her hair was blonde.” Buttoning up the flap on his breeches he returned to the chair and sat. “She was most exquisite. I was so overcome with lust when she bit me. It was like what the two of you did to me.” Not at all alike, but she didn’t tell him that. “You’ll be exhausted for a few days.” “I felt magnificent when I came in here. What have you done to me,” he protested. “You were given too much of her blood. It has changed you. Hopefully we’ve remedied that.” He rose from the chair. “She said the blood would improve my health. The two of you have taken that away from me.” Grabbing his cane and cloak he headed for the door. “I’ll not tolerate it, you understand. I will find her and she will renew my body. This is the last you will see of me.”

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Lily shook her head. He could not be permitted to visit Constance again. “Go get Constance, Maeve.” With a curt nod she left the room. His curiosity piqued, he returned to the centre of the room. “Who is Constance?” “The woman who gave blood to you.” “She’s blonde. All your women are redheads.” Lily surmised what had happened. “She colored her hair and went out to find additional work. It’s not permitted. In future, you and she will conduct business here.” He seemed to consider that, “Can she keep her hair blonde?” She nodded. Anything to delay his departure. “You are the client. Of course she can color her hair for you.” Returning to the chair, he sat. “Good. I’ll wait.” It still didn’t address the problem of what to do with him. If Constance had any sense she would show up. If she didn’t, the alternative was not going to be palatable. The door opened. Maeve’s stricken face said it all. Constance had fled. At last, her suspicions had been confirmed. With an effort of will she lied. “Constance will be arriving presently. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back in a moment.”

Hoping he wouldn’t move, she reached the door and closed it behind her.

Removing a key from a hidden pocket, she locked it. “This is most serious.” “Her room is empty of belongings. Should I ask the others?” The secret would be out soon enough. “Tell them the truth.” Glancing back at the door she thought she heard movement. “I’m going to dress and take Edward on a leisurely walk.” “You’re not planning to…” She shook her head. “It must be done, mustn’t it?” “Make sure the driver of the carriage is told that Edward had gone for a stroll and will be collected at Fountain Court.” Maeve glanced around, and nodded. “I’ll do that first.” Lily returned to her rooms, and dressed quickly in a red silk skirt and bodice. She slipped on a bonnet, and made sure her curls were tucked underneath. Drawing the black veil over her face, she looked in the mirror. Good. She’d not be recognized. She donned a black cloak, and left her rooms, but returned to lock the door. When she opened it, she nearly ran into Edward. He was weakening fast. The fool was not going to rest either, but continue his folly with Constance.

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“What secrecy is this? Where is Constance?” “She wants to meet us at Fountain Court.” “Why? What’s wrong with here?” “You like public places?” His eyes gleamed. “Ah.” The promise of a tryst always worked. “It’s not far from here.” “I know where it is. I’ll have to speak to my driver first.” “It’s been arranged.” Hooking her arm under his, she guided him down narrow steps into a lane. “See. Isn’t this better?” “No, it’s cold, and smelly.” “This is London, what do you expect.” He grunted. They turned into the Strand and fought through the crowd toward the Law courts. Some of the lawyers were her best clients. Once word had got out that she provided more exotic tastes, those same men had been quick to aid her in any charges that were occasionally brought against her establishment. One had saved her from a hanging, a man whose career had advanced in recent times to that of a judge. “This is most disagreeable,” Edward muttered. He placed a handkerchief over his nose. “This was nowhere near as bad when I arrived.” The breeze had disappeared and the smell of sweat and smoke filled her nostrils. Lily didn’t mind it. “It’s not far,” she assured him. Soon she found the lane she was looking for. Buildings surrounded the cobbled street and the crowd had dropped off markedly. Edward sniffed. “At least the air is more breathable here.” She liked the peacefulness within the Temple. The nearby gardens were a favorite place of hers. Such a contrast to the bustle they’d just left. The grassplot appeared in the centre. Overhung by elms, it gave one the feeling of coolness and shade. A fountain of water surrounded by a rose hedge, devoid of flowers, poured water into the pool below. Two young law students sat on a nearby stone bench discussing some excerpt she imagined from the book one held in his hands. The sound of the water lulled her into a sense of relaxation. She had to remind herself that this was not a stroll. Seeing no one else about beside the students, she removed Edward’s cloak, placed it on the grass, and sat. Edward almost fainted as he sagged to his knees beside her. He yawned. “You have made me very weak and I am not pleased.”

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The hairs on her neck rose. Looking around she gasped. Constance had come. She looked magnificent in a tight red bodice and flowing skirts. Her red hair flowed loose about her shoulders. One of the students looked up in appreciation. Nudging his companion the other followed his gaze. Not what Lily needed but there was little she could do about it now. “Welcome Constance. Would you like to sit?” Edward turned his head. “My dear, you’ve arrived.” He fondled a lock of Constance’s hair. “In fact I think I like the color as is.” Constance placed her hand over his. “What’s wrong Edward?” “She took all that wonderful life giving blood from me.” “Hush. We don’t use words like that in public.” Leaning over, she bit. Edward shuddered. His head tilted back and his eyes rolled skyward. Constance was claiming him back which didn’t bode well at all. The choice to end Edward’s life had been difficult to make as it was, but Constance had removed any lingering indecision. Unless she acted now, Lily would be powerless to stop Constance. Eyeing the two students who were looking on with interest, she bit into Constance’s neck. Power, fluid and raw, surged throughout her body. A hand tried to brush her away but she flicked it aside easily. Let him go, Lily warned. He is already dead. His essence drained into Lily, fuelling a bloodlust she had long forgotten. Noooo. Constance cried into her mind. Edward jerked once more then his body stilled. Lily released her, stumbling as she did so. What have I done? Constance gently released Edward’s body. Her eyes flashed red then cleared. “You tried to stop me. You know that is impossible during a feed.” “I had to try.” “All I wanted to do was make him better, like the others but they…” she averted her gaze. “What are you talking about?” Lily demanded. “I can’t help it if they always want more. Why can’t they be happy with only a little?” They. Little. Lily put the words together, not liking where this was heading. Glancing at Edward’s grin as he died in ecstasy, her suspicions became more defined. Was it possible the killer she had read about in the papers was Constance? Four victims so far, all men, who appeared to be have been drained of blood. She had believed it to be a man who pretended to be a vampire. She’d not taken

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a lot of interest, despite the extensive coverage of each killing, putting it down to an obsessed media. That any real vampire would kill in such a manner was simply not done. She had been wrong. Lily looked closer. Edward appeared just as the newspapers described the other victims. “Are you the one who killed the other men?” “And if I am?” Lily rose, and shouted. “You fool. You are an insult–” Aware that the two lawyers were approaching, she linked to Constance. –to our kind. “You were savoring his essence as much as I.” “You killed him.” “You forced me to.” She lowered her voice. “I suggest you leave. Now.” A tear fell down Constance’s cheek. “You were never meant to find out.” Acutely aware of the lawyers approaching, Lily covered Constance’s hand. “I can aid you in controlling the bloodlust.” A pained expression crossed her pale face. “I haven’t killed in fifty years … yet I succumbed to a dying man who begged to be healed. What a fool I’ve been.” “It usually starts out as an act of mercy. I know the dangers. We’ll leave London and find a way to rid you of this.” “I’ll leave. You can’t be implicated.” “Look around you,” indicating another group of people who began to wander in their direction. “It’s too late.” “You are veiled. They’ll not recognize you if you leave now.” Pain filled her stomach, dulling the lust she previously felt. “I can’t. You are one of my own.” Constance rose with the grace of a lady. “Go.” Panic set in. “What about you?” “Best you don’t know, only that I’ll not put you in further danger.” “You have already put me at risk, with Edward.” Not to mention the others, now that Constance had admitted to killing them. What a fool she had been. To be so blind as to not believe that one of her own kind would stoop to such heinous acts. Her eyes took on that wild haze Lily knew too well. Nothing she said would work while she remained in such an aroused state. “I need some cock and those two lawyers will do nicely as a farewell gift.”

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“Don’t hurt them,” Lily warned. “They are too young anyway.

Now go, before the police arrive.”

Several strides later,

Constance slipped her arm around one of the young men. Fear fled from his face. She whispered in his ear, and he laughed. The other, who seemed uneasy at the beginning, seemed to relax as well. She was influencing them. Lily knew things would get worse. A lot worse. How could she have trusted Constance so much? Returning to Edward, she closed his eyes. His smile would not be so easily erased. Maybe it would be best if it wasn’t. She sealed the marks where Constance’s teeth had been, and left him there. What a fool you are girl. Ignoring the small number of people who began to mutter amongst themselves, she pressed through them. Some gave her more than a passing glance. Those, she reached into their minds. You did not see me here. Their expressions changed to that of confusion. “Look,” one cried. “Do you think he’s dead?” “Oh my. It’s like in the papers,” another said. A woman screamed. Somewhere in the distance she heard a police whistle. Free of the crowd, Lily rushed toward the church. Not to find salvation as she was already damned. She needed a place to hide, and to think about what to do next.

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Chapter 2

The crowd stank of sweat, frustration and flatulence. The air itself was a thick haze of soot from the coal fires. A slight breeze made breathing bearable, just. James avoided central London, preferring life in his family manor near Oxford. However, his cousin had promised it would be worth the trip. “Here we are.” James looked to where Hubert pointed in the window of the pornographic shop. He inclined his head, trying to determine who was fucking who in the ménage. The position of one woman in particular looked impossible. “It’s one of those French photographs in case you don’t believe it’s real.” James could see that. The poor woman sandwiched between the two men did not look excited at all. He shook his head. Two cocks at once. His head was reeling from all the photographs inside the shop windows. His cousin’s fascination for ménages never ceased to amaze him. “You should take two women as mistresses,” James joked. “Why should I? It’s too complicated unless they are married, and then there is the danger of pregnancy. This is a far less complicated way to get a good night’s fucking.” He’d been warned about Holyrell Street as being a place of terrible pornographic material and so far he had not been disappointed. When he’d visited London in the past, Hubert had dared James to accompany him. He had been too wary, until now. Celibacy had seemed a pleasant option since his fiancé chose to seek her favors with another man. His uncle Edward had spotted her one night along this very street with another gentleman. They had booked temporary accommodation for the night. The proprietor of the rooms had been quite clear in what the couple were doing.

When James had

confronted her a week later, she showed him a ring. She had gone and married the man. How things turn around. Now it was his turn to have a bit on the side, with Hubert as his mentor. It was a side of London James should have despised, but instead it held a certain fascination, if one was so inclined to seek out unusual sexual practices. Hubert’s father, Edward, had been similarly fascinated with brothels and sex. Not that James knew Edward that well, but the man had been a godsend in saving him from a woman who had betrayed him for a richer man. Last autumn had been the last time he had met his flamboyant uncle. James had

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reeled when Edward suggested that being fucked out of your mind usually aided the road to recovery. Four months later, James was ready to try anything. “I have it all arranged. After supper we will be visiting father’s favorite place.” Hubert looked around. “That’s odd. He should have been here by now.” Love him or hate his sexual activities, Edward fascinated him. The famous words still ran in his ears. Always love a mistress for she will satisfy you every time. A wife will require the occasional fuck to get her with child but she prefers to be well left alone. His fiancée had destroyed that illusion. Had he married her, he suspected she would have betrayed him then. She would have sought out a lover, he was sure of it. No. It was far easier to give up the whole stupid exercise of marriage completely and fuck whores instead. “Maybe he has gone to the Temple Inn,” James suggested. “He always liked a drink.” Adjusting his top hat, Hubert dove through the crowd. James had no choice but to follow. He endured arms, elbows, and the occasional grope from a beggar who pretended to be passing by. He kept his wallet inside a hidden pocket in his vest. They reached the gardens. The release of the mass of people could not have come soon enough. The air smelt marginally better although the haze lingered. The gardens to the Inn were not as he remembered in his childhood. The fog was barely a whisper in those days. At least here he could breathe without the insufferable smell getting into his nostrils. A small crowd ahead intrigued James. Between hushed whispers a young man carried a woman who appeared to have fainted. “Perhaps it’s a body,” Hubert mused. James had seen the occasional body in his life and unlike Hubert it seemed, seeing a corpse did not hold any fascination for him. “Not before supper. Let the police deal with it.” “Don’t be such a bore. Look. We’re nearly there.” A young man turned around, nearly bumping into Hubert. His eyes wide with fear he said. “He looked like he died being pleasured.” James’s heart froze. He had heard of the serial killer who impersonated a vampire. Skeptical, he wasn’t sure he wanted to see the body. “I’ll wait here.” “I’ll be a moment.” He watched as Hubert disappeared into the throng. A long howl filled the air. James’s heart beat faster. “Hubert.” Diving through the onlookers he reached his cousin’s side. “Oh no.”

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He sunk to his knees beside Hubert, and stared at his uncle as if he were a stranger. Edward’s legs and arms were in disarray as if he’d fallen, but that was not what made him want to be sick. It was the bizarre grin that forced him to turn away. He did look like he’d been pleasured to death. James rested a trembling hand on Hubert’s shoulder. “Could it be another victim of the vampire?” a man in the crowd asked. The word had been used all over the newspapers. A journalist had decided it fitted the way the victims appeared when found. The police had not stopped it – in fact Inspector Holborn actively encouraged the word to be used. Amazed at the clarity at how he could think, James tried to comfort his cousin. “It may not be.” Hubert whispered, his words choked. “Of course it is. My father spoke of many strange events during his nocturnal activities. Of a vampire woman who sucked his blood so he would achieve a height of orgasm not possible by normal means.” James looked up sharply. “What?” Hubert nodded, his face solemn. “My father admitted to seeing them at the Establishment. Said they drunk his blood.” “A charlatan’s trick.” “Of course it was but he enjoyed it just the same.” What had his uncle been up to? “Don’t look so shocked. Father enjoyed his secret life, even though…” It may have caused him to die, James finished silently. The whistle of a policeman came as a blessed relief. James was not sure what he would have said next. The crowd quickly dispersed. No surprises there. Witnesses went scarce when it came to murder in general, let alone a bizarre one. “What do we have here?” James looked up at the sergeant and his taller companion. The sergeant’s round face showed genuine concern. “Are you a relative?” “He’s my uncle,” James said. The sergeant scanned the body, pausing at the grin. “The one called the vampire has struck again. Odd though. Your uncle is much older than the other victims.” James had read the news about the vampire and her - or it was assumed to be a she - choice of victim, young men. He aided his trembling cousin to his feet. Hubert wiped a tear from his cheek, he

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fought the pain of his loss with difficulty. James was not so troubled, hardly knowing Edward made him able to see things more objectively. The sergeant opened his notebook. “May I have your names?” James handed him his card. “My name is James Savage, this is Hubert Savage, my cousin, and the man on the ground is Edward, my uncle.” The sergeant gave Hubert a look of sympathy. “I’m sorry sir I truly am.” He returned to his notebook. “Would you mind answering a couple of questions? I can assure it will assist is resolving this terrible incident more quickly.” Hubert let out a low moan. “I’ll answer them,” James said. “Did you plan to meet your uncle here?” “We were on the way to the Temple Inn when we were drawn to the crowd. Hubert wanted to have a look. We never expected... I’m afraid I can’t go on.” “One more question, please. Did you see anyone with your uncle? A woman perhaps?” “How would I know? We only just arrived.” James snapped. “There wasn’t a large crowd,” the sergeant said calmly. “The person who did this could have been amongst them.” “And well away from here by now,” James muttered. “Possibly sir, but someone may have seen something.” The policeman closed his notebook. “I’m afraid your uncle will have to remain here until Inspector Holborn arrives. You can wait if you wish.” James decided he wanted to. Anything to determine what had happened. The sergeant seemed to misunderstand his silence. “I’ll arrange a carriage for you.” “No,” James whispered. “I’ll stay with Hubert.” Hubert straightened, his shoulders trembling. The taller policeman coughed. “Hello,” said a voice from behind. James spun around. The man he faced was familiar. Inspector Holborn, whose face appeared in every article written by the newspapers. No stranger to the press, this Inspector. In fact, at times James believed he relished in the publicity. Holborn tipped his hat in greeting then wandered over to the body. The policeman removed the coat. A gasp escaped Holborn’s lips. “What is this?”

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“You know him?” “Of course I do. He visited the same club as I did.” The Inspector placed his hand on Hubert’s shoulder. “My condolences. I had no idea he was in such a state. At the club he looked... well… radiant, and now this. It’s unbelievable.” Hubert nodded vaguely as if all the energy had been drained from him. Removing his hand from Hubert’s shoulder, Holborn knelt beside Edward. “It is the work of the same killer.” Hubert knelt beside his father. “How do you know that?” He shot a glance at Hubert, his eyes hard and his voice low. “Signs. Not only the grin but also his pallid face. I would presume Edward would have lost a lot of blood.” “You mean… drained.” The Inspector’s gaze softened. “Do you think I’d lie?” “No,” Hubert stammered. Holborn rose. “Doctor Sloane is on his way. After he has conducted a few tests and written a death certificate, I’ll allow him to remain at the mortuary until you have made funeral arrangements.” Flustered, Hubert shook his head. “I have no idea what to do.” Nor it seemed, was he in any state to consider such practicalities. “I’ll do it.” James offered. Inspector Holborn removed a card from his pocket and handed it to James. “Ridgeway will be able to assist. He also doesn’t ask questions. Perhaps you may want to consider him in the morning.” James took it. “Thank you.” Holborn cleared his throat. “Ah, the doctor has arrived.” Hubert followed his gaze. “What sort of tests will be performed?” “The doctor must confirm my observations. Don’t be concerned, it’s a routine procedure.” A chill tore at James’s heart. His uncle looks so pitiful in the fading light. So small and…. He turned to Hubert, whose face appeared equally pale. “You will need a casket. I can arrange that at the mortuary,” Holborn said. “It’s awfully considerate of you,” Hubert stammered. James thought it overtly generous but dared not ask why. “You look uneasy with my offer, James. Edward and I went to the club often and I consider him a close friend.” Hubert smiled. “At times he said he preferred to live at the club than remain at home.” Inspector Holborn chuckled. “That sounds like Edward.”

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The Inspector’s laughter annoyed James. The sound of horses and a long looking carriage drew his attention from the Inspector’s amused gaze. After the police ambulance stopped, a tall thin man climbed down from the seat at the front with a bag in his hand. “I’m Doctor Sloane.” James was about to reply when Holborn said. “These two men are family. Hubert and James Savage.” The doctor briefly nodded, knelt and got to work. With deft movements here and there he muttered words that James couldn’t understand. “Drained of blood just like the others.” How do you know that?” James asked. “I’ll find on closer examination that the marks on the neck will be very small, pinpricks. Only an observant medical man like myself would notice. I believe it’s no more than the masterful use of one of those new syringes.” He rose. “We don’t want to publicize this fact so please don’t say a word.” Hubert nodded. “I’ll come with you.” The Inspector extended his hand toward the ambulance. “I’d appreciate that.” “Do you want me to come?” James asked. The doctor shook his head. “Sorry, there’s not enough room.” James had anticipated that.

In fact he was relieved.

He needed time to think about the

repercussions. His uncle would be in the newspapers tomorrow as the latest victim. Poor Hubert would not be able to walk away so easily. The Inspector gripped James’s shoulder. “Edward was a lively, interesting man. His stories down at the club were legendary. I’ll miss him.” “So will I.” The doctor closed his bag. “Can your men place him in the ambulance?” Inspector Holborn nodded. The two policemen placed Edward’s body on the stretcher. Lifting it, they carried the stretcher to the back of the carriage and pushed it inside. The sergeant dropped the flap at the back, tying it at the base before the carriage pulled away. Alone again, James tried to put things into perspective. First was trying to accept that his uncle was dead. The evening chill took as the remnants of the sun faded over the Thames. Adjusting his cloak he headed towards the Temple church. Not a religious man, he found a church to be a serene place in which to gather his thoughts.

Ladies of the Night: Lily

19

Chapter 3

Her cloak draped on the pew beside her, Lily sat, head bowed. Her forehead touched the pew in front. Why, after half a century, am I still such a fool? Trust meant everything to Lily, and to have it betrayed by those she held dear became unbearable. The deaths of the men were her fault. Had she paid more attention, perhaps the problem with Constance could have been averted. Two centuries prior, London had been ravaged by the plague. She had suffered the affliction of bloodlust, and each time she recalled it, an equal measure of yearning and disgust filled her. She had gone on a rampage. Diseases couldn’t touch her and the blood of the dying sent her into a delirious haze of sensual delights which had never been surpassed. Nor had they been repeated, until now. Lily tried to connect to Constance. A wave of sensual passion flooded over her. Despite the hardening of her nipples she kept the connection open. A man’s face came into view. His face twisted on the verge of orgasm. I will keep the promise not to kill them. Now go. Aaahhh. Rapidly disconnecting from Constance’s own orgasm, she slumped back in the seat. Wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her gloved hand, she looked around. This little church was no place to feel such desire. She gripped the pew in front and cooled her ardor. Stickiness between her legs showed how her body betrayed that effort. Time to leave. As she rose the door creaked behind her. Sitting again quickly, she covered her face with her veil and lowered her head in a gesture of prayer. Footsteps paused some way behind her. Whoever it was sat in the rear pew. A soft sigh filled the vaults of the church. Turning around she gazed into a face that was touched by a sculptor. His cheeks were high and his jawbone strong. His brown curly hair fell below his ears. His eyes opened as if aware of being assessed. The darkest gray she had ever seen, he watched her intently. He seemed familiar to her, but she was sure they’d never met. Returning his gaze, she detected great sadness. A recent death...

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Surely not. Her heart lurched. She placed her hand over her chest, and took in a deep breath. Was it possible he was an acquaintance of Edward? The need to flee threatened to take over. Reason, however, began to return as it occurred to her that he had no idea who she was. Best to leave lest she say anything that would give him cause to recognize her in the future. The man gazed upward as she stood.

His expression grew serious. “Forgive me if I have

intruded.” She slipped on her cloak. “I was just leaving.” His eyes widened in appreciation. “You have a slight French accent.” The best trademark she had. The accent, cultivated from the century she had spent in Paris, seemed to send men into an impassioned frenzy. “I lived in Paris for a time, Mr.–” “I’m James Savage. And you are?” “Lily …” She was about to add Beaufort but held her tongue. “Lily will do.” Her gaze fell lower. His hat and cloak lay beside him on the pew. His dark blue coat was buttoned at the front. The breeches he wore hugged his muscular legs and tapered into dark boots that came up to his knees. She imagined him naked. His torso would be wonderfully proportioned. She imagined him crying out as he came, buried deep inside her. She smiled. It he could read her thoughts she wondered how he’d react. Lily had a feeling that beneath that posh exterior was a man who could be persuaded to explore new avenues of desire. Did she want such a challenge? It would be a diverting change to the usual fare of gentlemen who simply cared about their own pleasure. Based on no reasoning at all, she had a feeling that James liked to reciprocate. Reason returned. If he were an associate of Edward, then it would be folly. She passed him, hoping he’d not follow. Outside the air seemed to grow colder. The gas lanterns cast an eerie glow over the gardens. Night-time was her favorite time, where those who feared its coming returned to the safety of their fires, and those that did not, pursued mischief. When not working at the brothel, she took long walks, twice a week if she could manage it. Not even the cold of winter affected her. Occasionally she flew over London, amazed at the beauty of the city at night with gas lanterns lighting up through the fog like so many stars. “It’s going to be a cold night and the fog will be worse in the morning.” He’d followed her after all. Glancing skyward, James tightened his cloak.

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Maybe she should not worry so much. What if he discovered she knew Edward? There was still no possibility of any connection to the murder. Besides, he was very fine looking. He wrinkled his nose. “It’s getting worse.” Not that the acrid smell bothered her too much. She had been in the plague. Nothing compared to the stench of the bodies in the street, day by day in summer. He cupped her elbow, sending a sliver of delight up her arm. “Do you want me to walk you to your home?” Normally she would have answered yes and taken a gentleman back to her brothel for a long bout of sex with her girls. As much as she considered a similar arrangement with James, doubt still lingered. “That won’t be necessary. To the entrance of Wych Street will be sufficient.” “That is not a safe place to be at night.” The seriousness of his expression made her want to laugh but she made sure she didn’t. “I assure you, I can look after myself.” Pausing, he studied her intently. “Lily. You work at Madame Beaumont’s Establishment?” Not as naive as I first thought. “How does a gentleman like you know of such a place?” “Hubert, my cousin, and I were planning to visit one of the girls. He mentioned your name. I presume… I mean you do work there?” His feelings radiated towards her like a bright lantern. He was aroused. She had met men before wanting to expunge their grief by a night of debauchery. Surely a night couldn’t hurt. Gently caressing his cheek she smiled. “What are you suggesting?” “Remove your veil.” She did so, anticipating his reaction. He opened his mouth then closed it again. “You look exactly the way Edward described the girls.” “Are you sure you want to… see one of his whores?” “My uncle said all of you were very experienced in … ahem… satisfying clients.” Moisture surged between her legs. “I run it and I do take on special guests.” He seemed surprised. “I imagined someone older.” You have no idea how old I am. “Did you know Edward well?” he asked

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A cold shower may as well have been poured over her even though the question was expected. “Quite well.” He gripped her arm, steering her under a nearby lantern. Ahead she saw the milling crowds, dimly visible through the fog. A gleam filled his eye. “Did you and he…” What insolence. “He was a valued client and I don’t think it is a respectful question to ask of the recently dead, do you?” “You and he-” “Fucked each other. Is that what you wanted me to say? No. If it helps you. He preferred whips and a good sucking to cunt.” His eyes widened in intrigue. “What man would not want to be buried between the thighs of a woman, preferably one who was experienced.” Amused at his outburst she took a step backwards. She had read him correctly in that he wanted to experiment. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” Amazed he apologized, she assented.

One night with him, then she’d decide what to do

afterwards. “I forgive you as long as you use such words in private in future, preferably in my bed.” Total shock registered, followed by a smile. “I would like that.” Heat built between her legs. What did he possess that aroused her so much? She tried not to think about why, but of what was to come. “What did you see? I mean back there.” The shift in topic caught her off guard. Was this a ruse after all? Brushing the edges of his mind she detected genuine curiosity, nothing sinister. “You mean in the garden?” All serious again, he nodded. “A crowd had begun to form as I was passing. I glimpsed him lying down.” She swallowed. “Others were commenting on how terrible he looked and I didn’t want to see his face. I went to the church until everyone had gone.” “I probably would have done the same in your position.” She stepped back into the gloom. “May we continue?” “Did you know we booked to come to the establishment tonight?” So this was the man Edward had mentioned who needed to be sexually liberated. She’d do that all right. Edward, dear Edward. A lump formed in her throat. If only the outcome had been different.

Ladies of the Night: Lily

It was too late for maybes.

23

Her gift to Edward would be to give James a night he’d not forget. She

imagined he’d approve of that. “You asked for two girls. I suppose I should cancel one of them.” ***** James could not believe he had asked to have her for the night. He should be going home to warn the servants of what had happened and to ready the house for Hubert’s arrival. Her gaze held his, and any doubts that lingered seemed to dissipate. “What can you possibly do now?” Briefly, he wondered how she knew what he was thinking. “I …should …” the remainder of the words fled. He began to imagine what lay beneath that dress. Her breasts appeared ample as did her hips. His cock stirred as he contemplated burying himself deep inside her cunt. She would be wild, and insatiable. She smiled. “That’s better.” The compelling gaze faded. Blinking he looked about, not quite sure where he was. As his mind cleared, he forgot what he was going to do instead. “Shall we continue?” A growl rose from his stomach. She smiled. “A visit to one of the tea rooms I think.” They entered the crowds, not as thick as before. He spotted the Olympic theatre on the corner as they entered Wych Street. A place his uncle visited often. “What type of plays do they have at the theatre?” “Everything from Shakespeare to musicals. What do you prefer?” “I’m not a theatre man. I don’t like London in fact. I’ll be leaving as soon as this business with my uncle is settled.” “You mean the stories regarding vampires? Surely you don’t believe such nonsense.” The grin on his uncle’s face returned to haunt him. “I know it is nonsense, but I can’t forget his face. How could anyone being drained of blood have such an expression of bliss?” A gentle caress against his cheek made the unease fade. Lowering her hand she slid his arm around her waist. Lily smelt of flowers and that indefinable female scent of arousal that stirred his cock even more. “Vampires don’t exist so it must have been a woman, or perhaps he was drugged.”

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He hadn’t considered that, yet it didn’t make sense. Why, he could not ascertain, only that his gut instinct knew it to be more. The smell of chestnuts filled his nostrils. Men huddled around nearby braziers. A few nodded in greeting to Lily as they passed. She paused in front of the apothecary. Light from a nearby lantern reflected onto little bottles of medicines that filed the shelves inside. “My Establishment is upstairs.” He looked upward to a large two storied building. The walls were crumbling in some places but it was nowhere as shabby as some establishments he had seen. Then again, if she catered to gentlemen, it would explain why. “What do you charge?” She went suddenly coy. “It depends on what you want.” Opening a nearby door to a tearoom further down, she inclined her head. “In here.” Two couples sat at tables, eating supper. The women were both redheads and the men were gentlemen. He wandered further in. The smell of stew sent his stomach into motion again. He’d have to eat, or nothing would be working later on. Lily indicated an empty chair at the rear of the room. “Please, sit at my private table.” Tearooms were usually for tea as the business was not about food. This one it seemed catered for both. The gentlemen kept their gaze averted as he passed. One of the whores gave him a quick knowing smile before she resumed her conversation with her companion. He spotted a large bowl of mouth watering stew in front of the gentleman. His companion nursed a glass of red wine. James removed his cloak, and placed it on the back of the chair. He sat with his back to the timber paneled wall. Lily removed hers and sat opposite. “What would you like?” He quickly picked up the menu and skimmed through the alternatives. Breathing in the rich meaty smell of the stew nearby, he decided. “Stew.” A woman wearing a crisp white apron appeared from a nearby partition. She approached. “Madam. Sir. What would you like?” “Stew for the gentleman and my favorite wine for both of us.” She nodded curtly. “Very good.” A feeling of deep relaxation came over him. It was warm in here, pleasantly so. The day had been terrible but already it seemed like a hazy dream. It was probably the hunger. He’d not eaten since breakfast. The sound of a glass being placed on the table brought him back. “It’s French,” Lily said. He sipped the wine. It tasted rich and deep bodied. A bit of a connoisseur, he was impressed at the fullness. “Wonderful.”

Ladies of the Night: Lily

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“Isn’t it? I find it makes one more prepared for the evening.” Warm tendrils flowed throughout his body. A strange feeling of heightened awareness came over him. His cock began to re-awaken. “Are you feeling the effects yet?” she purred. He placed the glass down. “Y… yes.” “Good. You’ll feel even better with some food in you.” Hubert had told him that the way to good sex was via the stomach. Give a young woman a feed and she will be ready for fucking in an instant. An older woman needed a good half hour to get ready. Hubert had admitted later that it applied to men as well. James ran his finger over the rim of the glass. “What about you. Are you eating?” “I fed before, in the afternoon.” The waitress returned with a bowl of stew and a spoon. He breathed in the juices. “Wonderful.” “It’s very good too,” Lily said. “You’ll find no substandard food in this establishment.” With each spoonful the dizziness abated. His stomach settled into a contented lull. Watching him, Lily sipped her wine. “You have lovely gray eyes.” No one had flattered him in such an intimate way before. Not even his traitorous ex-fiancé. He felt warmth flood his face. He grabbed the glass of wine and took a gulp. The feeling he had before intensified. Sniffing in the aromas of the room, another invaded his senses. Musk and perfume filled his nostrils. His cock began to swell. Was it the wine causing this? He looked sharply at Lily. As if guessing his question she said. “It enhances the experience. If you don’t want to, you can have water instead.” “Did my uncle drink wine?” “All our clients do.” “I see.” He didn’t really want to drink the remainder, but the sensation that burned in his groin was nothing he’d experienced before. He sipped more. “Back to your eyes. There’s sadness in them though. Is there any way I can remedy that for a short time.” Her gaze nearly sent him reeling. It was as she was looking right through him into a place he barely knew. An imaginary caress on his cheek made him fidget in his seat. Once before he'd felt such discomfort. When he’d met the woman of his dreams his heart had fluttered and his groin had been on

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fire. Taking in a deep breath he looked outside. Anything to avert his gaze from hers. The people milling past appeared to have no interest in the occupants of the room, too intent on their own business. “Did you know Edward well?” Her voice was like a song he could not ignore. Nodding, he ate more stew. The distraction seemed to help. Scraping the last of the food from the bowl he looked up. The gaze from her dark eyes had softened. A deep feeling to tell all overcame him. “I didn’t. My father moved to the country when I was a child. Edward preferred the city. The clubs, porn shops, even these places were all favorite pastimes of his. He liked women, except for my aunt. He had this belief that wives were for children and appearances and mistresses were where the passion should be spent.” “Very true. We are the providers for their passion but we also listen to their problems.” As she was doing now. What if this was part of the service she offered? Right now he felt special. Lily drained her glass. “Let’s go.” A thrill of anticipation came over him. She was going to take him to her bed. ***** Lily had not expected to react so strongly to his presence. His uncle had just died and she had manipulated his fears to make him compliant and now the wine had lulled him even further. Maybe not entirely the wine, a few drops of blood were also included. When a man drank for the first time the experience he would have would be at its most potent. Sliding her arm around his waist the indefinable scent of an aroused male filled her nostrils. Lips fell onto her neck, sending a shiver all over. What was he doing to her? “You smell delicious.” His senses were enhanced as would be his sensations. Any reservations in bringing him here fled. She was determined to make this a very enjoyable evening. She opened the door to one of the luxury rooms and gently shoved him inside. The lanterns were already lit, casting a soft glow over the room. He spun around, nearly tripping as he did so. “This is sumptuous.” Red curtains, now closed hung from the two windows. A sofa filled one wall. Some clients preferred it over the large bed which stood in the middle of the room. Another room to one side, now curtained off, hid the toilette. James sat on the edge of the bed. “You could have four people in this bed.” “We have.” “Really. And you do that. I mean with four?”

Ladies of the Night: Lily

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He was like a virgin to this sort of place. “Four is a good number. When one tires there is usually another to take his or her place.” The pink of his cheeks returned. “I’ve never tried anything like that.” “You can if you like. We are here to satisfy all our client’s whims, within reason of course.” “You don’t consider a foursome to be excessive?” “Not at all. The problem occurs when a client wants to experience pain. We refuse to allow our girls or our clients to be hurt.” “Hubert told me Edward was whipped.” Edward liked to brag it seemed. “There is minor pain such as a red welt after being whipped. We do not draw blood.” Excluding what we feed on. He seemed relieved. “Good.” Lily removed his cloak from the bed and placed it on a chair. Loosening hers she placed it on top of his.

She then took off her bonnet, placing it on the red velvet cushion on the sofa. “James.

Remove your clothes one by one.” Startled, he rose. New clients were always taken aback by her orders but they usually complied. He slipped off his coat, walked towards the hat stand near the door and placed it there. His boots came next. Looking up he seemed to hesitate to go further. Lily undid her bodice a button at a time. Wearing no corset she soon felt warm air on the top of her breasts. He stared as if he’d never seen a woman before. “What do you plan to do with me?” When had she last seen a prospective client so nervous? She would have to be very careful with him, in the beginning at least.

“I’d rather make you feel comfortable with our more traditional

practices.” Relieved, he nodded. Taking off his shirt and breeches in quick secession he appeared naked before her. Her hand rested against her chest.

What a beautiful body.

Muscular but not overtly so.

Wonderfully toned in all the right places. He must do a lot of walking. She licked her lips as she strayed to his erection. “Nice. Very nice.” The awkwardness began to fade. Men tended to relax when their cock was admired. Removing the last button she let the bodice fall open, revealing her breasts. His gaze remained riveted to her erect nipples. “Come here,” she ordered.

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She raised her hand to his lips. He suckled each finger, sending a delicious shudder throughout her body. This man was not as inexperienced as he pretended. Gently gripping his shoulders she pushed him away. Turning around she said. “Undo my skirt.” His uneven breathing fell on her neck as he worked. Her skirt rustled as it fell to the floor. “You have no drawers,” he gasped. She turned around shrugging her bodice from her shoulders until it too fell on top of her skirt. “They’re such an impediment.” In one deft movement she gripped his buttocks, pressing him towards her. His cock slid between her thighs. “Oh,” he groaned, nearly sagging into her. “Has it been a while?” His gaze was smoldering. “Too long.” “We’ll remedy that.” Her mouth met his. The taste of his wine filled mouth was exquisite. Careful not to bite him she probed deeper with her tongue. He hesitated briefly before embracing her tongue with his. Fire surged to her core, fuelled further by the rubbing of his cock on her nether lips. Releasing the kiss she gripped his shoulders. His eyes were on fire and his breath ragged. Her reaction was no better. He was affecting her like no other. “The bed.” He stepped backwards until the back of his knees touched the edge of the bed. He sat, extended his arms to cup her buttocks, drawing her close. Lips played over her stomach. Her whole body became so sensitive. Each brush of those wonderful lips sent another torrent of moisture to between her legs. Suddenly a finger slid between her legs. Parting them he thrust upwards causing her to cry out as orgasm took her. She had underestimated him, and her reaction. He looked upwards, grinning. “I’m not that naive.” And thrust again. “I was… ooh. Wrong.” “My fiancé or should I say ex fiancé liked to be brought to orgasm frequently. Not by full intercourse. That sort of thing was frowned upon.” “Where is she now?” “She used her charms to snare a man far wealthier than I. I hope her marriage is all that she expected.” “You mean dull?” “I certainly hope so.” “Not such a proper young lady then, was she?” Gripping his hand she withdrew it. “Lie down.” The triumphant gaze fled. He wasn’t used to be told.

Ladies of the Night: Lily

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Tapping into his mind she met a wall of confusion surrounded by lust and a hint of intrigue. His reaction she expected was to do with not being sucked before, but he had. The conflict lay deeper. The emotions he was feeling for her were frightening him. Lily nearly ended it then and there. Emotional ties could not get in the way. Casting all warnings aside, she climbed onto the bed. She had to taste him at least once. She kissed the head of his cock. “Oh Lily.” His hands tangled in her hair he drew her down over his shaft. She lowered her mouth and took him in one stroke. He bucked, crying out. The sensitivity was affecting him too. It would be the wine. The pleasure would be extended and the release slow and prolonged. She lifted her head. “It’s the wine. Enjoy it. Cry out as much as you want. You’ll not come.” Sweat trickled over his chest. “You did this to Edward?” “Goodness no, he’d not the stamina for it.” And took him in full again. His moans grew louder as she moved up and down over his cock. He thrust towards her trying to find release. “I can’t take this.” Running her tongue over the tip of his cock she lifted her head again. “Nor can I.” She knelt above his cock. “Watch.” She slipped her finger into her dripping cunt, and thrust in and out. “Aaah.” “Lily, this is torture.” Gripping his cock with her other hand she guided the tip to her cunt. Removing her hand she adjusted her position and sunk down onto him. His eyes closed and his lips opened, emitting a cry. He was close to orgasm, but she wanted it to last a little longer. Her lips brushed the main artery on his neck. Not yet. Straightening again, she rode him, letting the exquisite build come on its own accord. Her passage throbbed with each downward thrust. Tightening her pelvis to increase the friction, she moaned as the tingling feeling intensified in the base of her spine. James writhed beneath her. “Please. Give me release.” The way his lips parted as he ground into her in desperation sent the last remnants of hesitation into oblivion. His hands kneaded her buttocks, as if by aiding her he would be able to hasten his deliverance. Then it came, distant and ferocious. As the first spasm took her she leaned over to brush the side of his neck. And bit.

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A red haze overtook her vision. Thoughts filled her mind of a man she’s met long ago, who’d looked at her with adoration then sadness as he became aware of her poverty. He’d left her only to return months later, terrified at her transformation. On horseback he was, showing disgust and horror as she drunk the life blood from a woman who was dying of the plague. A man she had lost her heart to and never saw again until he returned that fateful day to see her as she truly was. Why was this vision returning now to haunt her? She felt his hips thrust against hers, reminding her of where she was. A drop left her fangs, disappeared into his bloodstream followed by several more. She paused, aware of what she had done. It’s no more than what is in the wine. “Lily. Please.” She took a little more as he climaxed. Releasing him she arched backwards. She screamed when he did. The walls became fuzzier. Swooning she plunged done again moaning as she did so. Her head flung back and she mewled. He felt so incredibly wonderful. “What have you done to me?” his voice barely a whisper. She paused. He looked very pale. Has she taken too much blood? A drop fell from her lip onto his stomach. Touching the wound on his neck, she sealed it. With a finger she felt his pulse, still strong. “You haven’t had a good fuck for a while. That’s all.” Leaning over, she whispered in his ear. “I can do a lot more than this if you want to play?” He looked up with dreamy eyes of wonder. “I’ve never experienced anything like that in my life.” She eased herself off him. “No I don’t think you have. It’s why gentlemen come to us for an unforgettable experience.” “Is it always like this?” She lay beside him, stroking his chest. “In the beginning the intensity is. If you choose to return, you’ll find that it wanes. Like all things tend to, sadly.” Unless you were a vampire and that could never be. Startled, she wondered where that that notion came from. Touching her cheek he smiled. “I want to see you again as soon as possible. It may have to be after the funeral.” He stroked her hip. “I say. Will you come?” Edward would have liked her to be there she was sure of it. “When is it?” “I... need to arrange it.” He frowned. “I know he has a family tomb at Kensal Green Cemetery so it will be there. I’ll send you an invitation.”

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The funerals were usually held at three pm. “Just a note with the date will do. I think we should be a little discreet.” He didn’t seem to care. “I’ve nothing to hide in seeing you.” When had a man cared so little about his reputation. Then again he mentioned he rarely visited London. Such scandal, should it ensure would be of no consequence to him. Not so his cousin. “You must think of Hubert regarding my presence.” The grin faded. “You’re right.” “I’ll still come, but don’t acknowledge me.” She rose from the bed. Best to send him away, lest she took on foolish notions about him beyond a good fuck. He dressed quickly. At the door he smiled, the kind of smile that sent her stomach into somersaults. “Until next time,” he said, blowing a kiss as he closed the door. That was how it started. The rush of desire which consumed him would eventually fade. A few more times with her and he’d be bored and most likely she’d never see him again. He would go back to his country mansion once his curiosity had been sated. Oddly, the thought saddened her. She worried about the vision of the man on horseback. His rejection had torn at her heart but that was not what bothered her. How did that image exist in James’s head, or was it even his? Perhaps the memory had come from her and it had returned for some reason. There would only be one way to find out for certain. Ask Maeve for her aid.

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Chapter 4

James stifled a yawn as he looked out the window of his cab to dark, deserted streets. He leaned against the back of the seat, taking in what had happened tonight, in particular, Lily. What had happened to him back there was the most incredible experience of his life, yet he felt such sadness radiate from Lily as he was leaving. Maybe she had been as affected as he was? No, he reasoned, whores are good at pretending and making you feel like the most important person in the world. No wonder he had asked her to attend the funeral, a foolish gesture in hindsight. He may not have a reputation that could be tarnished, but Hubert did. What was he thinking of in offering? The cab came to a halt. Was he home already? Paying the driver he climbed out. The steps seemed like a long climb to the door. He knocked. Percy, the butler opened it. “You look exhausted sir. Do you want a nightcap?” Handing his cloak and hat to Percy he shook his head. “I have some bad news I’m afraid.” Percy waited for him to continue. “Edward died of a … failed heart.” The lie would do for now. Percy placed his hand over his chest and inhaled sharply. “No sir. Where?” “In the Temple gardens. Hubert is with the police and will be… a while.” He felt light headed. The events of the night were taking their toll on him after all. The butler took a step backward. “Police? That’s unusual if you forgive me saying so, sir.” He never could lie well. “His death was somewhat … mysterious.” “No. Not the vampire?” As tempting as it was to deny it he nodded. “It appears so.” He closed the door behind James. “Goodness, no sir. I mean―” “Don’t say any more for now. All I ask of you is to inform the other servants in the morning and that Hubert will arrive with Edward.” He took James’s cloak and hung it nearby. “When, sir?” James had no idea. He felt lost all of a sudden. “I’m not sure but do arrange for a carriage first thing in the morning. I need to make… arrangements.” “For the funeral sir.” He nodded.

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An uneasy silence fell between them. There was no more that could be done here. “I’ll retire now. You may go Percy. Oh and don’t disturb anyone else tonight about this.” Percy nodded but James doubted the news would remain silent for long. Gripping the rail, he climbed the curved stairs until he reached the first level. At the end of the corridor, he shoved open the timber door. He removed his clothes and climbed onto the bed. Dragging the blankets over his head, he felt the last vestiges of consciousness leave him. A familiar street appeared, devoid of fog. He glanced upwards to blue sky. Late afternoon and the breeze had largely disappeared. Sweat fell between his shoulders, causing his shirt to stick to his back.

Breathing in, he nearly gagged as the stench filled his nostrils.

He was somewhere in

Westminster, but where? A moan from the shadows in the nearby lane made him pause. He nudged his horse towards the shadows. Movement. He inched the horse forward but the steed refused to be coaxed. A hoof hit the cobbled street, followed by a whinny. Rather than press the horse further into the shadows, he dismounted to get a better look. Was it her? Of all the places he had tried, he never imagined she’d return to her family home. Did it matter? After weeks of searching the putrid streets littered with bodies his heart leapt at finding her again. About to cry out her name, he noticed another lying still beneath her. She lifted her head from the now still woman. Her eyes burned with fire, which faded rapidly as recognition dawned upon her. No. A trickle of blood ran down the side of her chin. A vampire. Fog filled his vision, threatening to suffocate him. Lashing out he felt thick material over him. Gripping what felt solid, he flung it aside. Opening his eyes his room appeared. Touching his damp chest he looked up the ceiling. The familiar blue shade reassured him. Craning his head to one side he faced the window. Curtains open, he could see the rooftop of the building opposite. Looking to the floor he found the blanket. It had been a nightmare. He climbed out of bed and after wiping his eyelids he walked to the tub. Standing in the knee deep cold water he washed himself down. What had he dreamt? Vampires of all things. Just your imagination overreacting.

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Or was it? He recalled a sting as Lily leaned brushed her lips along his neck. Placing his fingers to his neck he felt nothing amiss. Removing his hand he wondered what he was touching there for. A knock on his door made him jump. “Yes.” “It’s Percy, sir. Hubert wishes to speak with you.” “I’ll be there in a moment.” After drying himself quickly he dressed in black. Adjusting his cravat in the mirror he checked his neck again. Nothing. It’s just my imagination. He closed the door behind him and walked down the steps. Hubert stood at the base of the stairs, his face drawn and his eyes red rimmed. “Father’s body has been taken to the front parlor. The funeral has been arranged for next Wednesday.” “I was going to arrange-” “Ridgeway arrived with a casket this morning. I decided to arrange everything then and there. The burial will take place in a week’s time at Wednesday three pm at Kensal Green cemetery.” Hubert inclined his head towards the parlor. “Come with me. I have news of a disturbing nature.” Hubert shut the door behind them, and walked toward the coffin made of elm that rested on the table in the middle of the parlor. Well polished, James could almost see his reflection in the timber. Shivering he turned toward the fire which was out. “Best to keep the room cold,” Hubert said. That made sense, so the body would not decompose as rapidly. “A lot of blood was taken, making his death no different to the other victims. The doctor did admit to being concerned about Holborn’s comment regarding syringes.”

He lowered his voice.

“Sloane confessed using a syringe cannot cause such blood loss, given the time of death to when father was found.” A chill raced up his spine. He’d not considered the space of time before. How long had Edward been dead when they arrived? As if Hubert were thinking the same, he said. “Sloane told me the other bodies took much longer to find and that he had made the conclusion regarding the use of syringes in haste.” “What alternatives did he propose?” “He went very pale and didn’t want to speak about it further.” Trying to fight rising panic, James said. “There has to be some other explanation aside from…,” he didn’t want to utter vampire.

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Hubert shook his head. “I don’t think speculating will make us any the wiser. Not until we see Holborn. I suggest we say nothing until we gather further information. Speaking of which, Percy told me you didn’t return until quite late. Did you uncover something?” The memory of Lily remained forever etched in his mind. “I met Lily at the Temple church. She was there too–late as I was. I, well, was upset and returned to her establishment.” Hubert must have detected the blush on his face for his grin became wider. “You slept with her.” James nodded. Slapping his shoulder, Hubert grinned. “Father would have wanted us to continue the tradition as soon as permissible.” “He’s your father. You can’t simply go to a brothel and-” A gleam filled his eyes. “You did.” “I went to find out if Edward had been, and he had.” Hubert looked quite put out. “I hope you didn’t ask for details. That would be most improper.” James had asked and been rebuffed. In hindsight such questions should have been best left unsaid. “I plan to see her again.” “Why?” “I like her.” And that was the truth. Hubert ran his hands over the lid of the coffin. “Father always said a good whore encourages her customers back. Perhaps I should try her as well.” He knew what this was alluding to. Hubert had fancied a ménage last night. The very idea made James’s stomach churn. “I’d rather go alone.” He retracted his hands from the coffin. “You want her to yourself?” James crossed his arms in a defensive gesture. “I don’t want to share in the way you plan.” Hubert sighed. “Go then, but be warned, any extended liaison with a woman only ends in disaster.” “I’m not after a…” he let the words go. Hubert clapped his hands together. “Good, we’ll go together.” “I don’t want you there,” James muttered, not wanting his cousin anywhere nearby. It was irrational of course, Lily was her own woman. He had no claim over her. Hubert’s eyes narrowed. “Edward would have gone there yesterday which means one of the women there would know when he left.” “I’d not want Lily implicated.”

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Hubert wandered to the window and spun about. “In what? Edward went there weekly. It’s hardly untoward, and besides, Holborn will get wind of this eventually. Who knows what else he may be hiding from us.” His cousin had a point. “Let’s visit Lily after the wake.” “Good advice.” Hubert sighed. “We’ll have to endure all those relatives who’ll come just to be seen followed by afternoon tea accompanied by tedious conversation. Father is fortunate to be able to miss it. He’d rather be inside a good woman.” James believed it. Hubert was a lot like his father in that respect, a no fuss man who’d rather spend his money on more licentious activities. James reached his cousin’s side and gazed outside. Save for the occasional cab passing by, it was quiet. James rested his chin on his elbow and continued to stare out. Everything had moved so quickly. Lily for one. He never imagined he’d be in her bed so quickly. And he wanted to be there again. Hubert leaned on the window sill. “What was she like?” “None of your business.” “She certainly left an impression.” “I will not discuss it.” Hubert raised his hand in mock surrender. “Edward enjoyed all the girls but his favorite was Maeve. A real beauty too.” “I can’t believe you are talking about sex at a time like this.” “You’re thinking about it.” Hubert had him there. “Father was very detailed in what the establishment offered.” “Oh.” James wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or not. The door creaked behind them. Percy the butler entered. “Inspector Holborn is here.” Hubert looked annoyed. “Send him in.” James gripped his arm. “Be careful with what we say.” “And you.” Removing his hat, Holborn placed it on a nearby table. He didn’t sit, which meant the visit would be brief. “I have found more evidence.” James’s heart stilled, then started again. The tone of the Inspector’s voice didn’t bode well at all. “Go on.”

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“There’s a pattern to the attacks.” Unfolding a map he placed it on a nearby table. “May I?” Hubert nodded curtly. “Go on.” “See the place in the centre of the map.” Aware that his jaw was open he closed his mouth again. Kensal Green cemetery. “Kensal Green seems to be right in the middle. Of course it’s full of tombs where one could easily hide in.” Clearing his throat he continued. “If you believe the stories that these places are where vampires live it becomes logical that our killer is near there, pretending to be one.” He folded the map again. “There is no pattern to the murders except for one tiny detail. The gentlemen after death when examined were all found to have been sexually aroused and had come to climax.” James recalled the grin on his uncle’s face, and shuddered. “What a way to go some would say. I’d not desire it.” “The art of pleasure is to enjoy it again and again,” Inspector Holborn said, “and regardless of what the papers say, these men did not go willingly to these deaths.” “As the caricatures show,” James said harshly. The number of caricatures that had been published had sickened him. Many showed a man rigid in an embrace while a woman bit into his neck. Holborn gave a rueful smile. “While these murders continue, the publicity will not go away, even where bad taste is concerned. I don’t care too much for it myself. My focus is on the facts, not fiction.” Returning to a nearby chair, Hubert removed the newspaper from the seat. Holding the front cover to them with one hand, he tapped the sketch of Edward with the other. James had read the headline and flung the paper in disgust. The headline had read. Did Edward meet his killer in a brothel? It was not done to publicize the business of gentlemen to such places. “You have no respect for my father’s business,” Hubert fumed. Holborn tossed it back onto the seat. “I checked the accuracy of this article as I do every piece relating to the murder. This journalist, Francis Wynn, interviewed several people who were at the scene of the crime. Many of the reports mentioned a red haired woman and another woman who was veiled, arguing over Edward’s dead body. The red-haired woman is a known whore in the area, one of several I believe your father frequented.” James’s throat tightened. “Who?” “Five women match the description given and they all work at a brothel called The Establishment. We have spoken to two of them so far. Lily, striking lass that one, and Maeve.” Disgust filled James. Holborn didn’t care about Edward, or Lily, or anyone else it seemed.

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Hubert crossed his arms, reining in his fury with difficulty. “I think you should go.” Inspector Holborn raised his hands in a placating gesture. “All I’m trying to say is that Edward would have been bemused by this article. He never made it a secret that he visited such places.” “Tolerating this from the press is one thing but to hear it from you offends me.” Holborn cleared his throat. “My apologies Hubert.” The effort to be sincere made James want to laugh. This man was more interested in his publicity than what happened to the victims. A part of him wondered if Holborn knew the murderer, but let it continue to glorify himself in the papers. “As a precaution the cemetery will be patrolled during the funeral. No one will be able to get in or out without us seeing them.” “Are you hoping a suspect will appear? Who would be so foolish?” “It’s not uncommon for a killer to witness a funeral of one of their victims.” “We’ll be safe as long as no red-haired women appear, is that right?” Hubert said sarcastically. The Inspector collected his hat. “Goodbye gentlemen. I shall see you in a week’s time.” He paused, holding it in mid-air. “By the way James, if you happen to visit either of the whores again, can you enquire to the whereabouts of one called Constance?” This was too much. “How dare you-” “Initially you were followed for your own protection so I do admit to being equally surprised in discovering you returned with her.” James kept his mouth shut. Unruffled, Holborn continued. “Since you plan to make a return visit, I’ll give you the name again, Constance.” “What enquiry do you expect me to make?” James asked coldly. “She’s missing and I’m trying to find out where she may have gone. The other woman, Lily, who owns the establishment, has been quite guarded as to her whereabouts.” James swallowed. Was it possible Lily had seen more than she had told him?

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Chapter 5

Dressed in black and donned in a veil, Lily paused at the gates of Kensal Green cemetery. “Who are you Miss?” one of the policemen asked. Against her better judgment she had come at James’s invitation. The hand written note at the bottom had touched her. I must see you again. Smiling, she showed them her invitation. He moved to one side. “The tomb is down the road to the left.” She gave her thanks and walked in that direction. The week had dragged by with painful slowness. Aside from Holborn harassing them with questions about Constance, business had continued as usual. She had told the truth that Constance had left, and Holborn, predictably, didn’t believe her. It would only be a matter of time before he tried something less civil. Her greater concern was still for Constance. Where was she? Lily had spent much of that time searching for Constance, to no avail. More than once she considered contacting Lyon to aid her, but as she was about to, shame filled her. She had lost control of one of her girls. Lyon, her maker and her first love had warned her long ago. No one can control the bloodlust, no matter how hard you try. The hearse and four horses arrived shortly before three pm. The red plumage of the ostrich feathers showed the family wealth. Several mourning coaches followed. Lily lingered near another large tomb, and waited until some of the theater guests had dismounted. She joined the milling group who made their way towards one tomb in particular. The size of a servant’s cottage, it was quite ostentatious. Complete with carvings of angels on each corner it was what she expected of Edward. The hearse pulled up against the family tomb. She spotted Inspector Holborn, a tall man with graying hair. Dressed in mourning clothes he appeared quite distinguished. Lily knew better. She fought down nausea as he strode towards the entrance. The open door to the tomb revealed nothing but blackness within. If she could place Holborn in there with Edward, her life would take a turn for the better.

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A man opened the back of the hearse. Four bearers lifted the coffin onto their shoulders, placing it on the ground near the entrance of the tomb. Moving back, they bowed. A priest came forward, a half a head shorter than James. Pausing beside Hubert, he said. “Let us proceed.” Lily didn’t listen to the words. She knew all about death. Eternal life was for those who believed in it. She didn’t, never had. Probably why she allowed herself to be turned so readily. When one is dying and sees only blackness beyond, the option of eternity, even if it is to damnation, is too alluring to refuse. Her maker, Lyon lived in Paris. An artiste, whose unusual tastes were both loved and admired by women and men alike. He had taught her every sexual practice possible, skills that had offered her a well paid lifestyle and ready access to blood without killing. Lyon had also taught her about the need for restraint. Too many deaths meant one was forced to leave a place they love. She loved London, with its smells, the fog and the mix of people that made it a livable city. A pity Constance had threatened all that. James and Hubert were being watched by many, in particular women who considered them a lively catch. Edward had spoken of splitting the wealth between his son and nephew, when he wasn’t focused on getting an orgasm. Hubert seemed to relish in the flattery, despite the solemnity of the occasion. He would cast an eye over a lady and a subtle twist would cross his lip. James was the complete opposite. He averted everyone’s gaze, keeping his eyes firmly on the closed coffin. “Is there anything you want to say?” the priest said to the crowd. Lily was startled back to awareness. Hubert stood at the end of the coffin. “You showed me many things in life I would have never found on my own.” He bent forward, resting his hand on the lid of the coffin. “Goodbye father.” The priest inclined his head to James who reluctantly came forward. “Edward. All I can say is you too opened my eyes to many new things, and I hope that I will discover more in the future.” Lily smiled. Surely he wasn’t talking about her. Inspector Holborn approached. “Edward was a good man who donated to the police force as well as other worthwhile organizations.” Like a brothel, Lily mused. A tall, dark haired man approached. Dressed in black he held a notebook. He was quickly apprehended by a policeman. Holborn nodded to the policeman who released him. Most likely one of

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Holborn’s selected cronies who would write whatever he was told to write. The journalist scribbled in his notebook. A droplet fell on her face. It had begun to drizzle. She saw a man in the mists. A blink later and he was gone. Her eyes rarely deceived her. She was about to consider following him when it occurred to her that to leave now would seem improper. Who was he? Reaching out with her mind she tried to seek out who the stranger was. Nothing. Maybe she had imagined it after all. The ceremony concluded, the bearers moved forward again, lifted the coffin and proceeded to the entrance of the tomb. Only family entered. Lily was quite glad to wait and ponder about Holborn. He was obviously a friend of Edward’s but he was looking about to see if there were suspects about. The press had mentioned that at two of the funerals there were strangers loitering. Both were women who turned out to be mistresses. Suddenly the journalist tossed his notepad to the ground. The action so surprised Lily she decided to risk moving closer. She would be able to hear their whispers from this distance. “You will not report the facts; you will report what I tell you to report.” The journalist picked up his notepad, brushing off the smear of mud from the corner. “I thought you believed in the truth or I’d have never agreed to work with you.” “Rest assured,” Holborn said icily. “One word in the wrong place and you will never find another job.” The journalist blanched. Lily was amazed. That a man of the press cared to tell the truth was almost unheard of. To get involved, willingly or no with Holborn was true folly. She had experienced first hand his wrath and he was not a man who admitted defeat, ever. The death of a politician had nearly caused her to be hanged. Not that she would ever linger around long enough for that to happen. For two hundred years, she had met every kind of man imaginable. Holborn, she had concluded, was a man who would one day force her to leave London for good. He had tried to accuse her of murdering the politician. When she had gone to court, one of the top barristers, and a valued client at the time, had come to her defense. Holborn, who had never lost a case, had been livid. Never had she seen a man in such rage when the not guilty verdict had been read. One day you will pay for this, he had warned her.

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Holborn gazed in her direction, a slight smirk on his lips. These recent murders had given him the perfect reason to make her life hell again. Icy blue eyes made her stiffen. He tipped his hat. “Lily. A surprise as always.” She nodded politely. “Inspector, how did you know it was me?” “Come on Lily. I’ve known you for years. You pull the illusion of the poise of a lady admirably.” She pursed her lip, annoyed at the insult. Then again, what did she expect? This was her nemesis. His shoulders almost touched hers. It took all her effort not to take a step backwards. “You still deny the striking similarities to the death of Edward and the man who … ahem … died at your establishment five years ago are linked?” She clenched her fists. How many times would he ask her the same question? “The autopsy concluded a massive loss of blood from what I recall.” He looked skyward. “Let me see. Was there a grin as well?” This was new. It had to happen, these accusations. As for the grin she had made sure there wasn’t, never realizing that she be thankful one day for removing that evidence. With an effort of will she kept her answer civil as well as vague. “I don’t recall.” He took a step back and brushed his sleeve, a gesture she always found intimidating, as was his intent. “Perhaps not, but I do recall the loss of blood. You must admit it’s an intriguing coincidence.” With an effort she forced a smile. “There are some very strange murders about, Inspector. Wych Street is well known for its share.” Pausing, he looked up at her. “It’s taken several days to track down witnesses and several told me that a veiled woman, which I presume was you, was seen with Constance arguing over the deceased. I wonder if you would like to share the details.” She had made sure no one remembered her, which meant he was lying. Cockiness filled his gaze. “I also had a policeman follow you.” Lily cursed silently for not being more observant. She had been too enamored with James to notice. “I regularly take a stroll in the gardens near dusk.” He crossed his arms. “Don’t be coy with me. Beneath that charm lays a woman who is calm and determined.” How insulting. “As you are, sir. And this discussion is quite inappropriate at a funeral.” “I don’t succeed due to tact. I succeed because I find the killer and bring him or her to justice.”

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Lily held her umbrella with both hands so she’d not be tempted to strike him with it. “Or a substitute will do.” He pursed his lips. “I can’t prove that you are guilty. Just give me time, and I will.” That was what she was afraid of. He glanced behind her. “James. My condolences.” He leaned towards her, whispering in her ear. “We shall meet again.” James reached her side. “What was that all about?” Burying her frustration, she lied. “He has had a complaint regarding the establishment.” James looked quite troubled. “What’s wrong?” Lily asked. “See that man over there.” She presumed he meant the journalist who looked up at Holborn with barely concealed disdain. “Yes.” “He is called Francis Wynn. He wrote an article about Edward visiting your establishment.” Lily was used to such articles in the paper. “I read it. The headline is most inappropriate.” James cast a sideways glance. “What do you expect from any journalist? The truth is not what matters. It’s all about readership.” If she had not seen Francis tossing the notepad before and the way he glared at Holborn, she would have assumed the same. Lily decided she would have to meet him at some stage. “Edward would not have been as concerned about appearances as we are,” James said. James could be risking a lot more just by being seen with her. Holborn would use him against her in a bid to make her life even more difficult. Yet to never explore the possibilities with James was not an option. She would have to wait for an appropriate time to renew their liaison. “Come to our afternoon tea.” “Is that wise? I’m not entirely respectable.” “You look like a lady to me in that black dress.” Leaning closer, James added. “And I want to remove it later on.” Warmth filled her core and her heart. To have him again excited her. Hubert closed in behind, tipping his hat. “Ah, who do we have here?” “Lily.” “Didn’t recognize you, fortuitous I think. Holborn will not be at the wake, so do come.”

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When had she last mingled with society? Why not be amused for a few hours then take James away and experiment further. “I’ll come.” James cupped her elbow, steering her to the closest mourning coach. Lily climbed in opposite, facing the two men. Tapping on the roof, Hubert sat beside James. The driver moved, and soon the outer wall of the cemetery disappeared from view. The drizzle began to turn to rain, making the afternoon appear duller than usual. A light patter fell on the roof of the coach. Lily looked at each a man, assessing their differences. Such a contrast they were. Hubert was more like Edward, tousled brown hair and a face than implied mischief. Both father and son were very much focused on their own self-gratification, while James looked quite uncomfortable. Brushing the edges of his mind she detected a hint of jealousy. Normally such a display of any kind of ownership would force her to send the man to the streets. With James she didn’t mind. Fool. He’s a mortal and you’re not. Nothing good can come from it. She watched as the rocking of the coach nearly sent James into a dreamless sleep. Such a beautiful, serene face. Hubert grinned. “He’s exhausted poor chap. I can guess from what.” Lily forced a smile. This man she could deal with. Put him back in his place for a start. “You seem remarkably well adjusted considering your father has recently died.” Smiling wanly he looked outside. “Father knew he was dying. It was the nature of his death that I am concerned with. Do you have any clues?” For a moment she feared he suspected her but tapping his mind showed her it wasn’t so. He worried about the article and wanted to see if there was a connection. Her position also meant that she’d meet many types of people. After sex, people talk. Braggers usually, who wanted to boast after a good fucking. They existed all right and many spoke of murder and intrigue. “Only gossip and none of it I’d share with a policeman or you.” Hubert nodded. “I’d rather you keep your confidentiality.” James stirred. “What was that about confidence?” “We’re talking about keeping secrets.” James’s eyes widened. “I would hope so.” “Everyone’s secret is safe with me,” Lily reassured them. “Or you’d have no clients.” James gave Hubert a furious glare.

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“It’s true. Business is business, isn’t it Lily. One of your girls told me that secrets were very important.” So he had been to see one of her girls. Not that she kept an eye on every man that visited, as they were too numerous to name. The regulars she did know, which meant Hubert wasn’t. “Who did you visit?” “Your rooms? Never. I met her, ah. Constance, the one who’s missing. I rented a special room for a weekend. I didn’t want to be disturbed.” James shook his head. “He does that often, Lily. Takes a prostitute for a weekend then never sees her again.” Lily vaguely recalled a weekend Constance had been excited about a large sum of money. Lily was more than happy with her cut of the proceeds. She had no idea it was Hubert. “She didn’t tell you. Naughty girl.” He glanced at the roof of the coach. “It was about a year ago, or was it two.” He leaned forward. “I see she kept it a secret.” The girls didn’t have to mention every gentleman who visited them, particularly if they were casual liaisons. “Yes. She did.” “Please don’t be harsh on her. I was very persuasive.” It would have been the money that would have convinced Constance but she didn’t plan on telling Hubert that. “It’s a pity she’s disappeared. Do you have any idea why?” “No I don’t.” He shrugged. “You interested in a weekend?” The change is questioning took her by surprise. Such shallowness in a man could also be a blessing. “I don’t think so Hubert. You are a man in mourning.” His look was of mock sincerity. “I need consolation.” “Stop it Hubert. You’re upsetting her.” Poor James. He really believed she could be upset by the likes of Hubert. She tried not to laugh. Best to amuse him. “James. Hubert is being a tease. He does need some comfort, but he should be careful too. The police will be watching both of you.” “I will not be dictated to by Holborn or anyone else.” James placed his hand on Hubert’s arm. “I’ve been followed already and don’t plan to be intimidated by him.”

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Hubert shrugged his hand aside. “Good. Nor will I.” His gaze returned to Lily, one she knew all too well. “Can we see you this coming Saturday for supper and,” he winked, “some consolation.” We? James looked as surprised as she did. “We’ll get Maeve as well. I haven’t tried her yet. We could make a nice foursome.” James’s eyes almost popped from his head. Could his cousin think only with his cock? Lily mused. “I think not,” James retorted. “Why not?” A hint of pink covered James’s face. “We have discussed this before. I will not be a party to a ménage and furthermore this is hardly an appropriate suggestion under the circumstances.” “All right, separate rooms if you are so fussy.” Thank goodness he didn’t ask for Constance. Thinking of her, she reconsidered asking Lyon for aid in searching for her after all. The coach came to a halt. James looked out, relieved. “We’re here.”

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Chapter 6

Hubert climbed out. Turning around he raised his hand to assist Lily. James tried not to show his annoyance at Hubert’s suggestion, or the proprietary way he helped her out of the coach. Think, you fool. If he did have Lily, Hubert would never bother her again. The idea still didn’t brighten his mood. Lily looked upwards. “What a lovely place.” Another mourner, a woman, reached the main path to the main entrance. “Isn’t it just? The hedges are so well maintained.” Lily wandered down the path, pausing at the rose bushes on either side. Not in flower this time of year she seemed fascinated. James followed close behind. “Ow.” She raised her hand showing a drop of blood on her finger. James was about to take her finger and pop it in his mouth when it occurred to him they were in a public place. He removed a handkerchief instead and handed it to her. “Thank you,” she said, dabbing her finger. The sound of hooves and whips filled the cobbled street.

Room became tight as people

descended from coaches. Hubert reached the door of their home. Percy opened it. “Sir. The rear parlor is ready.” Hubert placed Lily’s hand on his elbow. “Excellent. Shall we?” James grunted. A manservant took their cloaks. Lily lifted her veil. Looking around at the timbered walls lined with paintings her gaze rested on the stairs. “Very nice. I like the stairwell.” James could not keep his eyes off her. The urge to undo her bodice became overwhelming. He imagined lifting her shirts to taste what lay underneath. She looked at him oddly, then a smile slowly formed on her lips. Closing the gap between them she whispered. “I’ve no drawers.” How did she know what he was thinking? “James. It’s been a long time.” Lily retreated as he turned around to match the voice to a face. He had no idea who the young woman was.

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Her blue eyes sparkled. “You don’t remember me at all. I’m sure we can remedy that.” An older woman approached. “Mary. You should have waited to be formally introduced.” James recalled a blonde haired girl, a cousin he played with as a child in Oxford. It had been years. “It’s done now, mother.” “I’m sorry James. She has always been too forward for her own good.” James didn’t want to encourage her. He had no intention of being a marriage prospect. She must have sensed it for she backed away. “You see. You have offended him with your forwardness. Come with me and let’s find a spot near that nice warm fire inside the parlor.” The rear parlor was a good choice James had to admit. It was far larger than the front and faced onto the large garden, slightly hazy in the drizzle. Two large doors facing out to the garden were closed. He wandered towards Lily who was talking to a young gentleman. As much as he wanted to take Lily away from here and fuck her senseless, he endured the conversations. Who was with whom? Who inherited this amount, and who married last year. Hubert seemed to attract the most attention and the women had begun to flirt with him in earnest. The girl he had rebuffed before whispered into another woman’s ear. When the conversations turned to Edward’s death, his interest picked up again. “Terrible thing what happened to him.

Isn’t it?

Why would the vampire attack such a

defenseless old man?” “The Inspector believes the vampire is a fabrication,” a gentleman said with an authority James found amusing. He turned to face James. “What do you think?” A flash of memory returned of his uncle lying on the grass. He could not forget the grin. “I think whoever it is deranged and needs to be arrested as soon as possible.” The gentleman nodded. “Quite so.” Leaning closer he whispered. “And no matter what I hear about this attacker being a woman, I don’t believe it.” “Why?” James asked, interested. “No woman has the strength to hold a struggling man down. It has to be a man who is inducing drugs into his victim.” He had a point. “Why would a man fabricate the murders at all?” another man asked.

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The gentleman made a face. “I wish I knew but I don’t. All I can presume, as James does, is that he or she is a very disturbed individual who pretends to be a vampire.” He tittered. “And we know vampires don’t exist.” Silence filled the room. The man, aware he was the centre of attention moved quickly to the door. “I must be going.” As if on cue, the crowd began to disperse. Whoever this killer was certainly held London society in fear. “Don’t be so worried, James,” Lily murmured in his ear. “There are murders every night in London.” Calm filled him as he gazed into her eyes. “That’s better,” she said. All that remained were a young woman and her chaperone. She gave Hubert a quick curtsy. “I do hope you will visit us soon.” Hubert kissed her outstretched hand. “I assure you the pleasure will be all mine. Send me an invitation.” Smiling broadly she left with her chaperone. “Her father is very wealthy,” James said. “Definitely not a reason to marry. I’d rather have a mistress who’ll not make demands of me, except in bed, of course. Now if you will excuse me.” James could not believe he was alone with Lily. “Do you want to come to my room?” She gave a coy smile. “Aren’t you going to show me around the house first?” Who was thinking with his cock now? “I meant–” A finger on his lips silenced him. “Edward spoke of this place. I’ve often imagined what it must be like.” He tried not to hide his discomfort regarding her relationship with his uncle, but it must have showed. She patted his arm.

“Maeve was his favorite.

I provided him with more peripheral

entertainment.” The thought disgusted him. Lily kissed his lower lip. “Each man had different tastes. I can’t judge one against the other.” Nor should he. She was doing her job. More softly she added. “We can attend to our needs later.”

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As he considered the nearby table instead, the door opened. It was Percy. Quelling his ardor, James led Lily from the room. “We’re done here.” Partway up the large stairway Lily paused. “Oh my.” Running her hand on the rail she leaned back. “This is a grand place, James. I was serious in wanting to look at the house but it doesn’t have to be tonight. Some of it can be in the morning.” The simmering desire within him sprang to life. “I can’t wait much longer.” She cupped his cock through his breeches, making his gasp. “I do see the problem.” Her hand lingered, teasing his cock in gentle squeezing motions. James looked down the stairs. He heard footsteps beneath. Removing her hand he took the steps two at a time. Lily seemed to follow with ease as if she were gliding up the steps. He hadn’t noticed it before. The maid and the butler came into view. He slipped into the shadows, amused he was acting like a boy up to mischief in his cousin’s house. After they had passed, he led Maeve quickly down the corridor to his room. As he closed the door behind them he pressed her up against it. “I’ve wanted to do that to you all afternoon.” He lifted her skirts, knelt and began to kiss her thighs. She teased his hair and parted her legs for him. Tilting his head upwards he thrust his tongue between her nether lips. A long sigh escaped Lily’s lips. Motivated to continue he teased her mound then returned to her passage, savoring her juices. Her hips tilted towards him to giving him greater access. The teasing on her fingers on his head increased in motion. “James. This is wonderful.” Sucking harder on her nether lips he tried to control the fire the raged inside him. His cock was becoming painful. A whimper escaped her lips. “No more. Not like this.” He looked up. “I want to bring you this way.” Stroking his hair she said. “I have an idea.” ***** Lily had briefly glimpsed the room before the sensation of his tongue sent any distractions into oblivion. To be pleasured in a straightforward way was so different. It reminded her of her first sexual experience. Starting simple then becoming more outrageous over the decades. With some control over her throbbing cunt that was screaming to be fucked, she looked around. A large freestanding mirror stood next to a bureau. “James.” “What.” It would be better on the ceiling but this would have to do. “That mirror. Bring it to the side of the bed.”

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“What for?” “You’ll see.” As he dragged the mirror over, Lily lay on the bed hitching her skirts to her knees. Making sure she was in view, she began to undo her bodice. The mirror in place, he sat beside her. “What do I do?” “Take all your clothes off and kneel at the end of the bed.” In rapid succession his clothes fell to the floor. He knelt, glancing sideways. “Oh goodness.” “What can you see?” “Us.” Hitching her shirts higher she said. “You know what to do.” When had someone last sucked her senseless down there and given her such pleasure in doing so? She unbuttoned her bodice completely and glanced sideways into the mirror. She was writhing more than she thought. Hands gripped her thighs as his tongue went in deep. Like a wave it came, from between her legs up her spine and to her womb. Her nipples ached with the need to be touched. Using her fingers she tweaked her nipples sending electric shocks back to her cunt. His teeth nipped her mound sending her into a frenzy. She’d forgotten how good a gamahuche could be. Pinching her nipples harder she felt the first surge of orgasm rage upon her. Arching back she cried out. James lifted his head, grinning. In one deft movement he widened her legs and thrust in full. She shrieked and not from pain. James watched in the mirror as he thrust in and came out slow. She could tell that watching himself fucking her was really turning him on as it was for her. Her breasts moved in and out of view while his cock appeared and disappeared between her disarrayed skirts. “Oh Lily,” he shouted. She gripped her skirts pulling them up to see him better. His hips hammered into hers sending her straight into another orgasm. He appeared to be on the verge of coming but was determined to prolong it. Placing her hands behind her head she writhed as he thrust in deep then out slowly. He was incredible. What stamina. She never imagined he’d be a stayer. She whimpered as another orgasm took her. Warmth filled her as he came.

James withdrew and flopped to her side, exhausted. “I can’t

recall lasting that long, ever.” She stoked his sweaty chest. “You wanted it bad, that’s why.” Propped on one elbow he looked at her. “And you?” “As badly, I have to admit. Few men give me a good gamahuche these days.”

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He glanced at the mirror. “I suspect that was the reason, watching myself. I had no idea what that could do to me.” “I have a few more things planned for you if you are willing to try.” “Not a foursome.” No, not that. It seemed wrong... somehow. She wanted James to herself, all night. The idea of the two of them sent her cunt throbbing with need. She dipped her hand between her legs, feeling his seed inside her. “I want more.” “I can’t.” Climbing off the bed she removed her skirt. “Trust me, you can.” “What about some rest?” he pleaded. “One more and I promise you’ll get rest. Lie down on your side over here.” He gave her a surprised look. “Surely not.” “I want to watch you.” She saw his cock twitch. “See. You’re excited by the idea.” “I am, more than I should be.” Idly stroking his cock, she said. “It’s convention that stops us exploring what we really want.” He leaned on his elbow. “I want to try it. It feels odd, that’s all.” “Keep talking. I want to know what you are feeling.” “To be so exposed like this is nothing I’d tried before. I… oooh… like it.” His cock had stiffened considerably. “I can tell.” The poor man did look exhausted and she had barely started with him. Being a vampire whetted certain appetites beyond what most men could handle. His was a treat to behold as he writhed under the ministration of her hand. Running her lips on his neck she bit. Red haze filled her vision as she took in his lust. Propping up one leg he exposed himself further. She nearly came as she stroked his balls. Bucking beside her he moaned. Feeding a drop back she gave him a taste of liquid fire. He thrust forwards as if he could find release. The she saw him, another man who rode a horse. No. Abruptly she released him, and the vision faded. James began to sweat all over and for a brief moment she worried if she had pushed him too far. He rolled his eyes upward. Blinking they came back into focus. “Thank goodness you’re there. I seemed to go elsewhere for a moment.”

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Lily could not hide her relief. Fire buried in his eyes. “Lily. Fuck me. Now.” That brought her back. Hic cock was so hard she couldn’t wait a moment longer to have him inside her. She eased him onto his back and impaled herself onto him. Moaning, she raised herself until only the tip remained inside her. She thrust down again. “You feel so good.” He groaned. “Lily, I can’t take much more.” “Just a little longer then I promise you’ll sleep like a newborn babe” Concerned about his reaction before when she bit, she leaned over and licked up a droplet of blood that remained on his neck. He thrashed beneath her, moaning as he climaxed. It was all she needed. Arching back she cried as he ebbed into her. Shudder after shudder raced over her body. His eyes became lidded. “Lily, you are incredible, but I implore you. No more.” She kissed him briefly on the lips. You have no idea what I could give you. “I promise. No more for tonight.”

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Chapter 7

Lily has never been as voracious as she had been with James. She wanted him again and again. Unfortunately to match her needs she would have to find another man or change him into a vampire. That she even contemplated the idea worried her. She’d never turned a man before. Lyon had warned her that it was a very dangerous thing to consider. Commitment took on a different meaning when one’s life stretched into centuries. Casting such a foolish idea aside, she returned to a more immediate problem, the visions that appeared. She has left blood in his bloodstream twice now, mainly to enhance each others orgasms. The mind of another briefly touched her in a caress. You are giving him too much. The familiar accent made her pause. Her racing heart skipped a beat. Lyon. His response was no more than a caress. It’s me. I warn you, if you give him too much more he will begin to change. Take great care my love. Her oldest friend was right. She was a fool to persist. She had chastised Constance for increasing Edward’s stamina and here she was doing the same to James. She had to cease giving James any more blood, but could she? Gazing fondly at his sleeping form she knew she could not. Aside from the many other delights she wanted to share with him, she had to know who the man in his vision was. And that meant more sex and the sharing of blood. I can’t. It is your decision in the end, not mine. Besides, I have come for another reason. When had they last met? A year ago? Unlike then, this did not sound like a social visit. Where are you? Your establishment. Panic set in. She climbed of the bed and began to dress. What’s happened? I have found another body, a man. She fumbled with the buttons on her skirt. The woman had returned without warning and had continued with her bloodlust. So much for Constance promising not to return. It’s not her doing. She paused in disbelief. How do you conclude that? I’ll show you when you get here.

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I’ll come now. Enter the back way. I’m sure the police will be arriving soon. She slipped out the window and glided down to the street. The fog made it easy to remain hidden. Sticking to shadows she moved at a pace impossible by a mortal, towards her home. Why didn’t you call me sooner? Lyon’s tone was gentle, the way he spoke to her when they had been lovers. I was going to butThought you could handle this on your own, or were you distracted? His words raked her mind like a caress. Distraction. Only for tonight. Hurry, before the police arrive. The connection faded. She flew over the city, aided by the cover of fog. Where the lights disappeared, she descended on the roof and made her way down the ladder at the back to climb in. “Lyon?” A blur, then he was beside her. Her heart skipped a beat. Her first lover was still a sight to behold. His fine pale face accentuated by dark hair cut in the style of the day. Dark eyes bored into her, mesmerizing her. Gripping her hand, he planted a kiss on the back of her palm. “You are still my favorite child, Lily,” he said in a French accent. The family reference would have amused her had anyone else said it. From Lyon it made her feel special. It was a pity the occasion was not more of a social one. “Where is he?” “Outside the apothecary.” She ran down the steps to the side alley. Lyon cupped her elbow. “I can’t sense anyone near, yet.” He lay face down. A smashed bottle lay near his right hand. Lily glanced inside the apothecary. The curtain has already been drawn and the door locked. “Whoever did this had waited until the owner had closed shop.” “No witnesses.” She knelt beside the body. Touching the back of his head, she felt stickiness on her hand. “He’s been struck by an object, perhaps the broken bottle beside his hand?” Lyon lifted a piece of glass. “There’s blood on it so I presume, yes.” She turned the dead man over. The grin was not there nor any marks on his neck. “You said Constance didn’t do this. I have to agree with you. This is straight forward theft.” He placed the piece of glass back on the ground. “Constance came to me after she killed Edward.”

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It should not have surprised her that Constance would have gone to the only man she trusted. It still stung that Constance had not wanted to stay with her. “Don’t take it to heart, my love. Constance was ashamed of what she did with Edward.” “I know what she is going though. We’ve endured this before. We could do so again.” He stroked her cheek, sending a shiver of delight over her body. “I know how to control insatiable lust. Constance is relatively calm for now but she will need to feed again and soon. I’ll be there to aid her.” Lily knew how he’d do it too. He’d take Constance as his lover as he had done with her just after the black plague. It had taken him some time to quench her bloodlust. Perhaps he was what Constance needed at this stage. Lyon was certainly an expert in appeasing lust. “Will you find her as challenging as I was?” “You were always the most difficult pupil. Perhaps because you were my first and I didn’t know how to control another.” “You enjoyed trying.” “Which is why I’m here to aid you, you only had to ask.” “I should have and sooner. I’m sorry.” He raised an eyebrow. “An apology from Lily.” Cupping her hand he kissed her fingers one by one. “I am honored.” Desire tore through her, making her moan softly. His dark eyes turned into liquid pools of fire. “It’s good to see that I can still arouse you.” Releasing her hand he returned to the dead body. “Wait. That’s odd.” He knelt, pressing on the neck of the body. A droplet of blood appeared. “It’s like he’s been pricked.” “Perhaps it’s a sliver of glass.” He flicked the hair of the dead man back. A fragment of glass fell to the ground. “That would be it.” “What do we do now? If Holborn arrives, he’ll try to blame me.” “Who’s to say he didn’t place the body here on purpose.” She rose to her feet, shocked at the suggestion. “What are you suggesting?” He looked up at her. “I watched Holborn give the poor man money.” “Making him a—” He stood. “It can never be proved.” She heard footsteps.

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Lyon tugged her sleeve. “I hear someone coming. Quick, hide.” “If it’s Holborn, I’ll face him.” “I’ll stay with you.” She gently shoved him into the lane. “No. Go upstairs.” The footsteps drew closer. Holborn and two policemen appeared out of the fog. “Lily. What are you doing here?” Not fooled by his convenient timing or his so called sincerity she said. “I live here. I heard a thump then some glass breaking. I came to investigate. I must say I am pleased with your prompt arrival.” Or was it a coincidence. One of the policemen, a sergeant, looked at her with a smug expression. Brushing his mind she discovered he’d been waiting for her to come and investigate the noise. The other, taller man remained expressionless. Holborn knelt beside the body. “Have you moved him?” “I turned him over to see if he was still alive.” “Obviously not, is he. Hmm. Struck by the back of the head. This seems straight forward to me. The apothecary has so many drugs it’s not surprising more people aren’t mugged and killed leaving it.” “About once every two months this occurs, as you well know, as does every other apothecary in London.” Holborn carefully studied the body, in particular the neck and his face. “No grin or marks.” Irritated, she muttered. “Obviously.” “I do admit he does look pale. It can’t hurt to take him for further examination just in case he fell instead.” So this was the plan. Set her up again with another murder. “Inspector. He has blood on his head from where he was struck, not a fall. Even I can tell that and I’m sure these policemen could too.” The sergeant chuckled, stopping the moment Holborn glared at him. “Get the ambulance,” he ordered the sergeant. He disappeared into the fog. Holborn returned to face her. “Can you prove you turned up afterwards?” “Can you?” The remaining policeman smiled briefly. Regardless of the humor displayed by the policeman, he would not defend her, even if what Holborn told later on was a lie. Like the journalist, he would lose his career in London. She began to

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observe a new trait in Holborn. The more he thought he had her in a corner, the more arrogant he became. Years ago he had threatened her after the court case had finished, stalked her for months afterwards in the hope of breaking her. When that failed, silence had followed for a time, marred by the occasional raid on her establishment. With these murders he would be more desperate than ever to prove her guilt. What if she provoked him? How would he react this time? Would he threaten her and mistakenly utter a few words that would make him look like a fool? If only she could find a way. Not in public, but with a key person present. What about someone respectable like James? No. She didn’t want to use him in that way. Lily. Leave at once. Startled by his intrusion she pretended to cough. “I must be going.” “You’ve not heard the last from me.” “No. I’m sure I haven’t.” Slamming the door behind her, she climbed the stairs two at a time. “Lily my love,” he said embracing her. “He will not stop until he convicts you, either by fact or lies.” “I know that,” she protested. He released her, gripping her shoulders. “You must either kill or humiliate him.” “I tried humiliation and look what has happened.” “That man will end up in the papers with the same symptoms as the others.” “You aren’t serious?” “I am. I brushed his frightful mind. He plans to do just that. ” She had not been so astute to do the same. “I saw the killer, a nobody who wanted drugs. I have already dealt with him.” “You didn’t tell me that?” “Best you remain ignorant. Don’t worry, He’ll not be found.” Why had he ruined her only chance of proving her innocence? “You could have turned him in.” His gaze seemed burn through her. “Do you think Holborn would have let him live?” He was right, so right. She was thinking logically, Holborn wasn’t going to behave in the same manner. “No. I suppose not.” A thought came to her, one that should have occurred sooner. “How did you know who Holborn was?” “I was at the funeral.” So that was him, barely visible in the mist. “Why didn’t you visit sooner?” He smiled in that way that sent her weak in the knees. “You were otherwise… occupied.”

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Warmth filled her cheeks. Was she so obvious? Then again Lyon knew her better than any other person alive. His smile widened. “What about now? Are you interested in rekindling old liaisons?” Like the past she could never refuse Lyon’s advances. His smile sent her heart racing, and all thought of James fled. His mouth sealed hers and desire surged through her. Barely able to stand she began to kiss him back. Abruptly he released her. “We’d best be off from here. I can hear the bells of the police ambulance.” Her acute hearing could pick it up too. “Let’s go.” They flew above London, past the ambulance barely visible in the fog. An occasional lone person wandered the street as they dove between rooftops. She has not felt such exhilaration in a long time. Over here. He turned sharply to the right. A circle of darkness appeared between the light from the gas lanterns: Regents Park. He landed on damp grass. “Does this place remind you of anything?” “This is where you changed me.” “And do you recall how?” Memories of their intense lovemaking returned, the only kind possible with another vampire. The taste of another vampire’s blood was far more potent than a mortal’s. How long had it been since she became truly lost in sharing blood rather than taking. Too long. “Oh yes. I–” Her mouth was on his. Tongues dancing she nipped the tip of his. Taking in a drop of blood she swallowed before releasing the kiss. Fire kindled between her legs searing upward to her nipples. She tilted her head back and gave him access to her neck. “Oh Yesss.” Lyon bit her jugular and she felt the blood flow into him. She breathed in his aroused scent, and gasped as he let her go. She hitched her skirts and waited until he unbuttoned his breeches. His cock free, she slid her arms around his neck. He hoisted her upward, making her shriek as he filled her. He took another sip from her neck and she moaned. He thrust again and grunted. No delicacy this, and she didn’t want it to be. This was what she missed with a mortal. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she met his thrust with hers. Lyon fed his blood back to her and intensified their lust. Lily cried out when the first orgasm screamed throughout her body. A red haze filled her vision as orgasm after blinding orgasm took them both. She shuddered violently and moaned. “More.”

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He was so hard inside her, making her writhe. “You haven’t changed at all.” He lifted her up. “Such abandonment.” And lowered her again, hard. Her body went rigid and she bit her lip. “Oh Lyon.” Lyon released into her, tilted his head backward and cried out in the still air. “Lily.” Lily sagged into him, gasping for air as she did so. The ferocity of how he took her never ceased to turn her on. Her cunt throbbed as he still held her. His cock twitched as it began to ebb. “I had forgotten how you love to scream.” Lyon’s face slowly came back into focus. “It’s been too long,” she purred. His eyes widened in delight. “I think we should go somewhere cozier in case the police think I have murdered someone.” Having a man dominate her again was so incredible. “One more time, here.” “I am strong but not that strong, my love. Besides, I want to see all of you.” He lifted her off him, much to her disappointment. Rearranging their clothes, they ran across the park like young lovers. Lily ducked as he tried to grab her. She pretended to trip, falling onto the cold ground. She scrambled to her feet and continued to run. Lyon caught her in his arms spinning her around. He placed her gently on the ground. Suddenly his expression came serious. “Come back to Paris with me.” Once she would have, and had done so before. Images of James rose before her, the way he looked at her, the smile that melted her heart. For the first time ever, she was going to refuse. “As much as I enjoyed you, I can’t.” He laughed. “James has affected you deeply. You are aware of the problems with such a liaison with a mortal.” She shook her head. “Let’s not talk about him now.” Cupping his chin she kissed his lips. “Let’s have this night to remember old times.” He looked down heartened. “I suppose it had to happen eventually. My Lily falling in love with a mortal.” “It’s not like–” Or was it. “I see. You are not even aware of how you feel about James. Most unfortunate.” She could not consider James in such a way. It was folly to do so. “I’m being a fool. I’ll stay the night with you.”

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He brushed his lips with hers. “Good, but I fear such feelings cannot be buried for long.” “I... know. I’ve not felt so close to another before, besides you.” Kissing her briefly on the forehead he said. “I do plan to stay a little longer. At least until Holborn desists from persecuting you, and longer if you need me. You know I’ll always be here for you.” Relief filled her. “I’m glad you’re here.” Cupping her elbow he steered her from the park. “My hotel is not far.” Looking sideway at Lyon’s profile, desire burned to her very core. He could love her in a way that James never could and that made her sad. ***** James awoke feeling better than he expected. Finding Lily gone did not. He had hoped she’d stay. There was no point in being too distressed. To her this was recreation; he wasn’t sure how he felt. Aside from his ex-fiancé he had slept with two women, both of them street whores and not terribly interested in anything more than a quick fuck for coin. Was it the fact Lily was a professional that aroused him to try things he’d dare not previously? He rolled onto his stomach and looked at the mirror. He’d never done anything as outrageous as fucking with a mirror nearby. Yet he wanted to do it again, with her. Right now he needed to get out of bed and cool his ardor. After sponging himself down, James dressed quickly. A walk after breakfast would ease his restlessness. Laughter filled the rear parlor. Hubert glanced upwards as James entered. “James. Where is your companion?” “She had to leave.” Hubert sipped more tea. “Was she good?” “All whores are good,” he said lightly. “I’ve not tried Lily. I must remedy that.” Fighting the jealousy that threatened to resurface, James took a seat and sat opposite. Percy poured tea. “You may go Percy,” Hubert said. The butler bowed and left the room. James leaned back and sipped. Outside it looked like it was going to snow. “You don’t want to share Lily. Oh dear. You’re not in love with her, are you?”

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The cup clattered in his hand. Was he? Hubert placed his cup on the table. “I suggest we proceed with the supper this Saturday evening and that you should try Maeve as well. Perhaps that may divert you from such a dangerous course.” Maybe it was the wisest thing to do. Perhaps another whore may leave him feeling the same way. The idea didn’t seem to be as abhorrent as it had a moment ago. “Have you done it?” “With two women I met in the street. Respectable married women, they were looking for some recreation.” The way he spoke of them made James recoil. “Married woman. You have no shame do you?” “It is all consensual. What’s wrong with that? Besides, I like variety.” He leaned forward. “Back to Saturday evening. We will have an excellent supper and afterwards, if you don’t wish to peruse any unusual activities, then don’t.” The pang of jealousy persisted despite Hubert’s attempt at compromise. He knew his cousin better than that. To avoid being pestered further, he said. “If Lily agrees then so do I.” Hubert’s eyes widened. “That’s an unexpected answer, one I don’t believe you mean.” He looked away. “Heed some useful advice, my cousin. Don’t fall in love with any woman. Fuck them senseless but don’t expose your heart to them.” Was that what he should do? Enjoy her as long as he kept his heart out of the way. It made sense. Lily and he were never going to be more than transient lovers. Hubert rose. “I’ll arrange the invitations.” “Oh I say my chap. Come and look,” he called from beyond the open door to the parlor. James rushed to the window facing the street, not believing what he saw; Lily with another man. A pang of jealousy filled him. You do not own her. With an effort, he opened the door and walked outside to greet them.

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Chapter 8

Lyon peered out of the window of the carriage. “So this is where James stays in London. Nice. Not as ostentations as some London residences, thank goodness. Halt.” “What? You said you only wanted to look, not stop.” “I want to see the man who has captivated your heart.” Lyon opened the door to the carriage and climbed out. “We’re expected.” Butterflies filled her stomach at seeing James again. She had missed him more than she realized. “Lily. Good to see you.” James looked past her shoulder. “And you are?” “Lyon De Trois.” James was hiding his irritation well. “French obviously.” “Paris. I’ve come to visit my favorite cousin.” His jaw tensed. “Please, come inside.” Lyon smiled. “I will be honored.” Lily wanted to tell James that Lyon was a casual friend, but it was obvious he guessed otherwise. Why was she acting as if she were his lover and his alone? She was a whore for goodness sake. That’s what she did, fucked gentlemen for money. Smiling warmly she said. “We were lovers a long time ago.” Hubert leaned against the doorway. “James. Are you going to stand out there all day or invite these people in?” “I apologize. Please come in.” The rear parlor smelt refreshing clear. James looked outside. Snow had begun to fall. The butler entered. “Breakfast?” “Yes Percy, for all of us.” “We’ve eaten,” Lily said. “Cakes?” Percy asked. That she could manage. “Please.” “Very good,” and closed the door behind him.

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Hubert sat cross legged on a chair near the window. “Please, take a seat.” They did except for Lyon who remained standing. “Lovely setting, snow.” “Odd for this time of year but winter does surprise one from time to time.” Hubert said. James looked increasingly uncomfortable. Lily leaned over to him and squeezed his hand. The gesture appeared to surprise him. “You will see me again won’t you?” Lily said. “I can’t imagine not doing so.” “Were you telling her about our invitation of Saturday night?” “What invitation?” James glanced at Lyon. “I’ll tell you later.” “Please tell me now.” “Hubert is planning to invite you and Maeve to supper on Saturday night.” The way he spoke hinted that more than food was being offered. This will suit your tastes Lyon. She gave him a mental image of a ménage. No thank you. I like private affairs. She smiled. “What is so amusing?” Lily leaned close and whispered in James’s ear. “I want you now.” “Don’t,” he said hoarsely. The door opened and two maids entered with a tray of tea and cakes. “Place them over there,” Hubert said, indicating a large table in the middle of the room. Percy soon arrived with a tray of bacon and eggs. Lily braced herself for the smell. Lyon wrinkled his nose briefly. Disgusting really. Hubert moved to the main table. “Please, sit.” They did so. As Lily selected a cake James gently gripped her thigh as he sat beside her. “I’m dying for you,” he whispered. She inclined her head towards him. “We can hardly do it here, can we?” Placing the cake on her plate with one hand she brushed the bulge between his legs. His hardness sent her cunt dripping. No man had wanted her so desperately for a long time. He was so fresh and different to other men she had met. Lily didn’t want to lose him, either through mortality or

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boredom. Lyon had driven her wild, but seeing James again, her feelings ran deeper, even more than for Lyon. She could not walk away from him. Lily. You must concentrate now. She tore her gaze away from James. Lyon and she had agreed to tell Hubert and James some specifics about the latest murder. It would not have reached the papers yet but when it did, Lyon wanted to be sure the seeds of doubt were sown. Lyon cleared his throat. “I have heard of a murderer in your midst. I do believe sir,” addressing Hubert, he continued, “that your father was a victim. My condolences.” Adding the last of the food to his plate, Hubert looked up “Thank you. My father, unfortunately, happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” James frowned, pushing his plate away. Lily gave him a reassuring squeeze on his thigh. He smiled weakly. “Have the police any leads?” Lyon asked. “At the scene of the crime, two women were spotted by several witnesses, arguing. One matched a woman called Constance who you would have read about. The other is still a mystery. She was veiled and no one knows of her identity.” James gave a sideways glance. “You were veiled.” Of all the things she had sensed in James’s mind this accusation was not amongst them. Has she been so enamored with him to be blinded by his suspicion of her? Skimming his mind she suppressed a smile. He feared it was her, yet didn’t want it to be. “I was veiled as were many other women if you’d cared to look.” James blanched at her words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-.” Hubert frowned. “You seriously consider Lily as a suspect. That’s preposterous. Does she look like a killer?” Thank you Hubert. He just saved her the need to influence James’s mind. “Whatever accusations you have of Lily are unfounded. She is no killer.” Lyon gave her an amused glance. Unless they deserve to die. Lily kept her face a mask. She knew the implied meaning behind those words. If Holborn was going to make her life too difficult, his would be ended. Lyon. I’d rather flee London for a time than have another murder on my hands. It’s only a suggestion.

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“Lyon,” Hubert asked. “There is talk of a vampire but the Inspector assures us it is nonsense. As a purely fantastical remark, do such creatures exist within our midst?” “A vampire can take many guises,” Lyon said. “A man may want to be something he is not. For example, there are men in Paris who believe that taking blood enhances their virility. Others believe that it is a myth.” “Inspector Holborn believes it is a man or woman pretending to be a vampire,” Hubert said. Lyon leaned forward, his gaze intent. “In Paris there was a serial killer who imitated the vampire. He was caught in the act and sent to a psychiatric home. He had delusions of being a real vampire.” Hubert seemed intrigued. “Are you saying our killer suffers the same affliction?” “A true vampire is not so foolish to be so public about his slayings.” “Or hers,” Hubert said. “Holborn believes a woman is responsible, delusional or not.” “Nonsense,” Lyon said. “He is playing a myth to make people afraid.” “Why would he do that,” Hubert protested. “Perhaps he wants to make himself look more important than he is,” Lyon said. James shook his head. “Why would Holborn wish to promote fear amongst the public?” “It’s given him a lot of publicity. What other reason does he need?” Lily said. They all looked at her. Did she really need to explain further? It seemed she did. “Some people like to be in the papers. If they are constantly praised by feedback from readers they will do anything to fuel that further.” James frowned. Brushing his mind she sensed his unease regarding Holborn yet didn’t want to publicly admit it. Did he know something she didn’t? Pressing him now for an answer didn’t seem appropriate. Hubert did not seem as uncertain. “It’s absurd. And I’ll not hear another word on the matter.” Lyon raised an eyebrow. They are hiding something. “Will you at least hear my theory?” What are you playing at? Hear me out my love. “No,” Hubert said. “Yes,” James said. Lyon stared at Lily. Thank goodness one of them shows sense. “Who likes to be in the public eye?”

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Hubert cleared his throat. “Since we’re going to pursue this, I’ll start. It could be one of thousands who want to seek a bit of fame, possibly a tenth of London, maybe more.” Lyon inclined his head. “Have you read the article that outlined where the murders had taken place? If one drew a circle, the centre would be at Kensal Green cemetery.” “Holborn said the same thing,” James said. “If Holborn had intended such a ruse, then I’m afraid I must disappoint you all.” Hubert frowned. “What are you talking about?” Lyon feigned amazement. “The murder at Lily’s establishment, haven’t you heard?” The two cousins looked at each other. “I’ve read nothing in the papers,” Hubert said. “The poor man arrived to obtain a special order at the apothecary and was killed. It was about midnight.” “Perhaps the afternoon papers will cover the story,” Lily said. Hubert’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know of this murder?” “Lily returned to her home and I met her there. Next moment I heard a cry and by the time we reached the street the man was already dead.” “Are you an inspector of sorts?” Amused, Lily wondered where Hubert got such an idea. “Let me say I have a special interest in unusual cases.” “A detective?” Hubert mused. “Close enough?” “How long do you plan to stay?” James squirmed in his seat. She wanted to assure James that Lyon was no danger to his affections, but such an admission couldn’t be made with others present in the room. “As long as it takes for these murders to be resolved. I don’t like the way Holborn treats Lily.” James frowned, worried. “What do you mean?” “You recall the murder five years ago in Wych Street where Lily was accused but later acquitted.” “Why would I?” James said. “I don’t live here.”

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Intrigued, Hubert leaned forward. “The news was covered up quickly after the court case. I confess I’ve not considered it since.” He looked at Lily with renewed interest. “It hadn’t occurred to me that it was you.” James looked quite perplexed. “Tell me what happened.” “A prominent man attacked me and I had to resort to using a blunt object to render him unconscious. When he came to he fled down the steps, breaking his neck.” Not quite true, already dead and drained of blood – a foolish mistake in hindsight. With little choice than to mask it as an accident she had pushed him down the steps. The memory still made her wince. His gaze never left hers. “I see.” “Continue with what you saw last night,” Hubert said, intrigued. “He was struck on the back of the head, and his items from the apothecary were stolen. Holborn arrived a few minutes later and began to infer that Lily did it.” James shivered. “You mean he didn’t have that awful grin.” “An ordinary murder, if one can call any murder that.” “Do all murder investigations have Holborn personally attend?” Hubert frowned. “Isn’t it a bit odd he should simply turn up so soon after the murder?” Not when it involves me, Lily thought sarcastically. Lyon leaned back into his seat. “I agree. Does he normally prowl the streets in the hope of a murder bring committed?” Hubert picked up a rasher of bacon then placed it back on his plate. It seemed no one was in the mood to eat after all. “Most odd that he should be there,” Hubert said. “I’ll read the papers and see what his version of the facts is. May I have your name again? I’ll make sure I mention you to him?” “I’d rather you didn’t. I’m not here officially and I’m sure Holborn would be most annoyed that I spoke to you and not him.” “Good point. Holborn is very touchy about others interfering. I’ll say nothing for now.” Do you think he will keep his silence? Pretending to be distracted, Lily looked towards the windows. James I would say yes but Hubert? I don’t know. Let’s see how we progress. “James. I sense you have doubts about Holborn. Please, tell me if I am being a fool or not with my concerns.” Lily felt Lyon’s will being projected onto James, saving her the problem of doing it later. “Tell them Hubert.”

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Indecision swept across his face, passing a moment later. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but when I met Sloane the police doctor just after my father was killed, he told me at the mortuary that he, like the other victims was totally drained of blood. It worried him as no syringe could remove blood that quickly, certainly in my father’s case, as he was found soon after his death. I dared not mention this to Holborn as I feared the doctor’s reputation could suffer. Holborn’s a very influential man.” Lyon leaned back, his face a mask. This becomes more intriguing by the minute. What should we do?” Hubert asked. “Read the papers and see what conclusions are drawn.” He rose, pushing the chair back as he did so. “We should go.” James’s face darkened. Lily slid out of her chair, brushing James’s shoulder with her hip as she did so. “I’ll see you in a few days, James. It may be best we stay apart until then.” “As much as I don’t want you to go, I agree.” James glanced sideways as Lyon. “Are you going with him?” Lyon inclined his head, his smile warm. A few days respite my love. Come to Paris with me. She anticipated Lyon would try to ask her again. I can’t. What about my other girls? Maeve and the others are more than capable of looking after themselves. Come on love. Just a few days away so Holborn can’t bother you. Besides, if you have already left, Holborn can’t accuse you of running away, can he? A feeling of pure lust tore through her. She knew Lyon caused it. Moisture surged between her legs as she tried to forget about last night with Lyon. How many times had she screamed as orgasm after orgasm tore through her? Imagine the top of the Arc de Triomphe at night. You leaning over the railing and I am behind you fucking you senseless. She moaned. “Are you alright, Lily?” James asked, concerned. A lazy smile formed across Lyon’s lips as she squirmed. “I don’t like police,” she said in a sharp tone. Imagine screaming over Paris as you come. I’ll come with you, now stop it. The desire fled, making it possible to think coherently again.

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Hubert chuckled. “I can understand that. Holborn would see all brothels shut down tomorrow if he could.” “Men like sex and as long as that persists so will we, legally or otherwise.” Lyon wandered towards the door that led to the garden. “Perhaps the Inspector needs some.” Hubert and James broke into laugher. Hurry we must leave. I believe a carriage has just arrived. Walking to Lyon’s side, Lily coughed in her hand. Lyon always knew how to break the tension in the air. Hubert drained the last of the tea from his cup. “Back to Saturday evening, Lily. You will come won’t you?” She nodded. A promise could be easily broken if need be. Lily heard footsteps. Percy opened the door. “Inspector Holborn to see you sir. I informed him you were receiving guests but he said the matter was urgent.” Lily opened the handle of the door to the garden. “We’ll go this way.” Outside Lyon whispered in her ear. “Go to Maeve and I’ll meet you there. “ “What are you going to do?” “I’m going to listen to this conversation.” Lily made her way back to the establishment where Maeve waited impatiently. Lily took her to her room. “I had the police here. Said I had no idea where you were last night. What is happening?” “Constance fled to Paris after Edward died and there was another murder last night.” Her hand covered her lips as she suppressed a gasp. “Surely Holborn isn’t connecting you with that death.” Lily nodded. “Curse that man. Why don’t you let me end his life? It would be a service.” “And give into the bloodlust. I can’t.” She sat on the sofa opposite. As tempting as it was to end Holborn’s life, what good would come from it? Maybe it would be simpler to leave and start again in twenty years time, when hopefully, Holborn would have died. “I suggest you tell the other girls to get ready to flee. Go to Lyon if you have to.”

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The idea seemed to appeal to Maeve. “For a good night of sex, I might just do that, but I’d rather not have his protection. He demands too much in return.” Maeve had always been the wiser of the two. A hardened whore at twenty-five, Lily had learned much from her. By the time Maeve had turned twenty-eight Lily made her a vampire. Of the four women she had turned, Maeve had adjusted most rapidly to the enhanced abilities and the carnal lusts that affect a vampire. She was born to be what took decades for Lily to become accustomed to. “Where are you going?” “Officially Paris for a few days, unofficially overnight then I’ll be back. If James asks for me tell him I’ll see him before -” “You leave him forever?” “I’m considering it but… truly… I don’t know if I have the right,” she whispered. “Not all men find the truth abhorrent.” Maeve had turned a man once. He had died in a fire. A terrible accident and a loss she never fully recovered from. “Tell him or you’ll regret it.” “I can’t. He’s not destined for our way of life.” “Show him your past. If he can accept it he will never leave you.” “He sees visions of my past. I don’t understand how. I thought it may be me projecting my memories onto him.” “Tell me more,” Maeve urged. Lily recalled the day as if it were yesterday. She had been walking across the street towards an extensive Tudor home carrying a painting produced by her father, a struggling artist. Peering upward, she recalled the most handsome face looking down from an upstairs window. A faint smile crossed his lips as the window closed. After delivering the picture to a servant she had run home, reliving the moment. It was folly of course, she was a poor daughter and he a lord. That was until he returned a year later when the plague had struck. Searching for her he’d found her already turned. Whatever chance there may have been between them had been dashed at that moment. She told this to Maeve. “You were meant to meet him again,” Maeve concluded. “Who?” “James, but in another life.” Maeve believed in such things. Lily didn’t. “If he was disgusted at what I did then it doesn’t bode well does it. James will most likely react in the same way.”

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“You don’t see at all. This man has returned to find you for a reason. Your decision in the past was made due to him not claiming you the first time he saw you. Perhaps this is your chance to make things right.” Was it possible it was James’s vision and not hers after all? Maeve nodded reassuringly. “If the visions return, then I know it’s him. At least let me try.” Lily considered Maeve’s offer. “If they are his, you won’t let him remember?” “If he reacts in terror, I’ll make sure he’ll forget afterwards.” “Don’t let him remember. I want to do that. Just determine if the visions are mine or not.” She nodded. “I promise.” “Will you be gentle with him?” “Of course I will.” Maeve looked past her. “Lyon. She’s ready to leave.” ***** The ardor that rose within James crashed as rapidly. Lily had disappeared with Lyon. He couldn’t blame them for not wanting to stay, yet he had a feeling Lily was bothered more by the police than she cared to admit. The Inspector entered with a confident air. He sat on the nearest seat. “Your guests left unexpectedly?” “Why, what business is it of yours?” James said, surprised he was so vehement. Holborn raised an eyebrow. “I had thought it may have been Madame Beaumont. I have been to her establishment today and no one appears to know where she is.” “So?” Hubert said. “She did come here with another gentleman.” He’d been spying on them again. “Since you appear to know here whereabouts, why don’t you go and find her.” A cold hard gaze swept over James, making his stomach twist into knots. “We found another body at the establishment last night.” James and Hubert exchanged glances. With barely an acknowledgement in his nod, James knew Hubert was as glad as he that Lyon had informed them in time. “Are you suggesting Lily committed murder?” Hubert said. The hard gaze fled. “Of course not, but I must eliminate where she was before midnight.” Not daring to mention Lyon, he shook his head. “She wasn’t here.” “That’s confirmed by what my men have told me too.”

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“You are spying on us,” Hubert retorted. “For your protection only.” James snorted. Holborn tapped the table. “Who is the gentleman?” “A friend of hers. I know little more than that, he said very little.” Hubert said. James admired the way his cousin could lie with ease. Holborn shrugged. “No matter. I’ll try her establishment later on today.” “Tell me why you came, Inspector,” Hubert asked. James didn’t like the way Holborn tried it intimidate him or the hint of the predatory in the man, something he’d not noticed before. Holborn crossed his legs. “The man was drained of blood like the others but I must confess the strange grin wasn’t as prominent. Is our killer less interested in attaining sexual arousal from the victim?” James nearly choked. Compared to what Lily had said this was utter fabrication. “Sorry to have upset you,” Holborn said. James smiled weakly. Let the Inspector think that was the reason. Hubert inclined his head. “Please, continue.” “Don’t you think it odd it occurred there?” “Wych Street has many murders,” Hubert said. James worried about Lily. Holborn seemed adamant that she was the culprit. “After all, if one has nothing to hide, why leave in such a hurry?” Again, the truth would not be possible to explain. “They had other business to attend to.” “I see. James. All Lily has to do is give me Constance’s whereabouts and that will be the end of the matter. Is that such a difficult request?” The inference in his tone bothered James more. Holborn was lying. “What if Lily doesn’t know?” “Then I’d be very suspicious.” He rose, reaching the door several strides later. “Oh. Don’t become involved with anything you may not be able to handle.” “I have no idea what you talking about.” “I think you do. Whores are a fickle lot. Some are dangerous.” How dare he. He forced a smile. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

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With Holborn gone, the tension eased considerably in the parlor. “Why is he so determined to accuse Lily? Father spoke fondly of her. In fact he was fond of all the girls who worked there. They certainly didn’t harm anyone.” He suspected the real reason lay in her winning that court case. Her victory must have made Holborn look like a fool. “I’m tired of him interfering,” James said. “You are edgy. So am I. This whole business appears to be coming more complicated by the day.” James rubbed his forehead. “Sorry, it’s been a difficult week. I’m impressed you’ve handled it so well.” His gaze shot upwards at James. “You think I have? Holborn’s whole way of dealing with this is bordering on the offensive. It’s as if he delights in seeing my father in the paper every day.” Slamming his fist on the table, he looked at James with real concern. “I’m also sick of that journalist constantly by his side, who seems to enjoy annoying me as much as Holborn does.” “I’m sorry. I had no idea.” “I suggest you go find Lily and tell her what Holborn told us, and that she should be very careful. I don’t like the way he’s insinuating she is implicated.” James tried to put his feelings to one side so as to think objectively. It proved more difficult that he imagined. His feelings were becoming stronger each time they met, yet he had an awful feeling that their liaison would soon come to an end if Holborn continued to menace her. “I’ll go look for her.”

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Chapter 9

Rather than fly, which could be quite tiring over the channel, particularly in bad weather, Lyon had opted for a slower way of traveling, a steamboat. Still relatively new, they were stable enough in these waves, and fast. They had left in the morning and would be in Boulogne by nightfall. Leaning over the rail, salt spray dampened the skin on her face. She had never imagined the forces of nature could be so exhilarating to bathe in. “Come in,” Lyon yelled. “You’ll catch your death of cold.” Lily smiled. The cold couldn’t harm her but she did have to think of the other passengers who were readying for lunch. In the saloon, a string quartet played from a nearby stage. The music made her smile. When has she last sat idly inside the saloon of a ship with little else to care about than enjoying the company of another? She imagined doing something similar with James. Rather than spend time in his bed, why not go out to a special place instead. It made her aware that she had no idea what he liked? Opera? Theatre? “Lily?” Returning to the present, she removed her cloak and handed it to a waiter. Another waiter pulled out her chair so she could sit. Once she had, Lyon sat opposite. He looked as dashing as ever, in particular the dark blue suit he wore. Lily had worn her finest green dress, a color that matched her eyes. She looked out the small window. The wind had dropped considerably since they left from Folkestone in the morning and some of the other passengers were already beginning to find their feet again after a bout of seasickness. Lyon poured wine. “When did we do this last?” Once they had visited the finest restaurants of Europe, sipping wine and watching other patrons lost in conversation. More often than not it was to choose a man and a woman to share the night with but only if the couple were willing, and many were, once they were given a taste of what was to come. Lily looked about, catching the eye of a tall, muscular man who sat next to an equally tall woman. “That couple interests you?”

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She cradled the glass of wine. “Once I would have said yes but things have changed. Perhaps Constance could be encouraged to try, once you have controlled her bloodlust.” He chuckled. “I will enjoy training her. She has fire, just like you do.” She blushed, leaned back and listened to the music. Constance, dear Constance was in good hands. The waiter arrived to take their order. Lily inclined her head to Lyon. “You can choose my dear.” Lyon smiled. You always liked to play the dutiful wife in public. Food, while not her favorite delicacy could be eaten in small quantities. He winked at her. Remember the nights we were alone. How could she not? They had performed some interesting maneuvers with food as well. She sighed. So many decades to fill in so many delights. Her thoughts slowly drifted back to James. Would you share such a life with me? Full of wine and some food, they waited for the steamer to dock at the sea port of Boulogne. The air, full of the smell of wood and fish did not feel as chilly as London. She looked out to sea. No fog either. It felt strange. People milled about on the pier below. Some waved to guests on the steamship. Lyon took her hand and led her down the ramp. Once they reached the ground Lyon said. “Welcome home.” She had to smile at that. A century she had lived in various parts of France with Lyon. “Do you want a quick bite before we continue?” A large seaport provided ample opportunity to sample the local fare. Lily looked around for a possible candidate. A young man gave her more than a casual glance as he walked past carrying a sack of produce from one of the nearby ships. Fire seared up her spine as Lyon caressed her back. “You think he’ll do?” She imagined the sensations that would tear over her body as the sailor came to orgasm. Moisture trickled between her legs. There would be no cock inside her but the pleasure would be as intense. He briefly kissed her. “I can imagine what you’re thinking. I’ll join you if you like, or do you want me to watch.” Recalling old times when they joined, she sighed with pleasure. “Together.”

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The young man returned form the ship empty handed. Lily approached and using her will on him, said in French. “I am looking for a hotel room. Do you have any suggestions?” His dark eyes widened as he registered her suggestion. “Or we can find a nice quiet street instead.” The thrill of tasting a new man sent her nipples to hardened peaks. “This way,” he said quickly. Lyon followed close behind. The street was narrow and quiet as he promised. She placed her hand on his heaving chest and pressed him against the wall. He smelt of fish and aroused male. He began to unbutton his breeches and with Lily’s aid freed his cock. Lily cupped the rigid shaft. “Put your hands to your side and allow me.” In anticipation he nodded. Lily pressed her lips to his, savoring the wine but more importantly his animal heat. Continuing to hold his cock she moved her hand back and forward. A low moan escaped his lips. He was very close, which was good. She didn’t want a drawn out seduction this time. Moving to one side so he would not soil her dress, she bit into his jugular. His blood trickled down her throat as lust tore through her. Lyon appeared in a blur and bit the other side of his neck. The man’s orgasm thundered through both of then as they drank. Between moans, the man began to sag down the wall. Her whole body shook as the man’s orgasm ebbed. She released him and leaned against the wall, panting. With lidded eyes the sailor sagged into Lyon’s arms. Lily’s cunt still tingled from the orgasms; she licked the blood from the sailor’s neck, savoring the last droplets as they slid down her throat. He began to stir. Lily quickly embraced him so Lyon could disappear. “You sure can fuck,” he slurred. “It’s what I do best. Can you stand?” He nodded and she released him. He staggered out of the narrow street. Well sated, Lily joined Lyon in a busy street. He positively glowed. “We should go and meet Constance.”

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Now she was so close to seeing her again Lily tried to hide her apprehension. How would Constance react to seeing her in Paris? Lyon scooped her up in his arms. “Don’t worry. She will be pleased to see you again.” Seeing Paris approached from the air was exhilarating. How many times had Lyon carried her over London, before he turned her into a vampire, promising such carnal delights that she couldn’t refuse his offer? Leaning into him, she recalled the day they met. It had been in London, when the black plague was at its worst. Her father had died of the disease, leaving her penniless and desperate. The plague had killed so many that for a time the streets were littered with bodies. The stench had become unbearable as she staggered in a dazed state of grief through the wasteland of people. Wagonloads of the dead rolled past as she wandered. She snatched food wherever she could. So far she had managed to avoid giving her body in exchange, but with each passing day she knew the time would soon come. Hungry, she reached a dark street where a pile of refuse might yield a place to hide for the night. Only when the pile moved did she back away. More curious than scared she listened to the moans that reached her ear. Although still a virgin she knew enough about sex to determine it wasn’t pain, but pleasure. Fighting the urge to flee, she didn’t. Perhaps this man may be her first customer and pleasure her equally well. The shapes moved in a frenzied pace. As her eyes adjusted she saw the woman’s pale legs around his waist. Kneeling, she hid behind a wooden box, ignoring the smell as she watched, fascinated. The woman arched back moaning louder as the man continued to move above her. His face was beautiful as he began to reach his climax. Lily’s nipples began to harden at the thought of the man doing the same to her. She felt someone watching her. Looking behind there was no one. A caress brushed her shoulder. Looking back she saw the man watching her. White teeth appeared as he smiled. Don’t go my cherie. Watch and learn pleasure. A sense of calm descended upon her. A tiny voice warned her to flee but her body was too caught up in the increasing moans of the woman to move. He lowered his head. The woman bucked under him but he held her as he thrust again. Desire swept over her. Nothing else mattered but the overwhelming need to have this man inside her. The woman became still. Silence filled the street and she imagined she heard a sucking noise from the woman’s neck. Vampire. She tried to move but was rooted to the spot.

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In a flash the man was beside her. Dark orbs gazed at her with smoldering desire. He was so beautiful she didn’t care who or what he was. “I’m Lyon.” “Lily,” she whispered. He smelt of sex and musk. “Lily.” It sounded like music from his lips. “Stand up.” She did so, trembling as he stood over her, a head taller at least. Caressing her chin he drew her mouth to his. The taste of blood filled her mouth. His tongue danced with hers. The initial revulsion of his invasion quickly changed to searing need. Releasing her quickly he stepped back. “I will not take you in haste.” Scooping her in his arms, he flew into the air, where she had fainted for the first time in her life. As if on cue, he descended as her thoughts returned to the present. The Arc de Triomphe. Gently landing on the roof he released her. “You were thinking of when we met.” “Yes,” she said fondly. “So was I. I brought you to Paris and showed you how to be loved.” She still recalled those early days when he gave her unimaginable desire. The decision to turn into a vampire had not been difficult. “We had so many good decades.” Gripping her shoulders he turned her around.

“Remember the times we came up here just to

watch the city.” A black carriage being pulled by two horses passed beneath the arch. Beyond, the lights filled the tree-lined street all the way to the obelisk. Strong arms embraced her waist. Nuzzling her neck he said. “Do you remember the first time we came here and you screamed for me?” A bolt of lightning may as well of struck her instead. Still high on the blood from the sailor and the arousal from the memory of their first night together, she nodded. “This became our favorite place for a while after that.” It had. As a new vampire she had found a lust so deeply buried that she and Lyon had spent days doing nothing else but fucking. Even now she still desired him. Yet it wouldn’t last, it never did. Not even you, James, she thought sadly. “You’re thinking of him aren’t you?” She leaned into his chest. “I can’t stop thinking about James.” He released her. “It’s time we saw Constance.”

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***** James went straight to Lily’s establishment to find her. “Wait here,” he said to the cab driver. Two steps at a time he climbed the steps until he reached the first level. A striking redhead wearing a green bodice and skirt waited in the corridor, her arms crossed. She frowned then smiled as he closed the gap between them. “You must be James.” Where was Lily? Was she busy servicing another man? He didn’t like to imagine her with anyone else. An irrational thought considering that fucking was her business. “She’s gone to Paris with Lyon.” He wasn’t sure if that piece of news wasn’t worse. “When?” “This morning, after she left your cousin’s place.” “Why?” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s too public here. Come in.” The room she led him into was minimalist in comparison to where Lily took him last time. Aside from a bureau and a sofa, there was little else. It had a formal feel about it. “Do you want anything to drink?” “No.” Maeve sat opposite. Aside from being slimmer than Lily, the similarities were amazing. “Are you and Lily related?” “In a way. To me she’s the older sister I never had.” Her gaze went to the window as if considering a private moment. She smiled lightly before returning her gaze to him. “We don’t have family except for each other. When one is in trouble we will do what we can to aid them.” She leaned back. “Lily will be back in time for Saturday evening so rest assured.” He was sure that this discussion was more than about appeasing his concerns. Lily would be returning, even if it was to say farewell in a few days time. What felt like a caress, brushed his cheek. “I shouldn’t be telling you this but Constance has fled to Paris. Lily has gone to see her.” So it wasn’t entirely to be with Lyon. A glimmer of hope returned. “The woman Inspector Holborn is looking for.” “Holborn thinks Constance has something to hide.

She’s not a strong woman and such

accusations have upset her greatly. It’s a distressing time for her, and Lily.” “What does Lily plan to do?” “She may ask Constance to return but I can’t blame her if she refuses.” “Why are you telling me this?”

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“Lily cares about you and I care about Lily.” Did she? Warmth filled his being at the possibility that Saturday may not be the last time he’d see her. Leaning forward, Maeve opened a large folio, removed the newspaper and handed it to him. “Read the first paragraph and tell me what you think.” The death of a man out front of the establishment in notorious Wych Street has given Inspector Holborn grave cause for concern. He has almost completed his enquiries and is close to identifying the killer. He needs to urgently speak to Constance who is central to his enquiries. Her description is… He placed the paper down. “The way this is written implies Constance is guilty.” “What is more disturbing is the attack last night. Constance left London days before that so she cannot possibly be the murderer.” Why did Holborn indicate otherwise? Something was amiss. “What are you presuming?” “Listen to me, James. Constance fled after the death of your uncle.” A prickle of warning ran between his shoulders. Surely that disappearance was too much of a coincidence. “Why did she leave after my uncle’s death?” Maeve leaned closer, sending him heady with the scent of aroused woman. “It looks suspicious I know, but have you considered she may have been a witness and fled out of fear?” He reeled from her words. If Constance had witnessed Edward’s death and told Lily, it would explain why Lily was at the church. As if she had read his thoughts, she said. “Lily was with you at the church afterwards. How did she seem to you?” He had been too upset to remember, only that her emerald eyes were pools he wanted to drown in. “I don’t… recall.” “Did you tell Holborn that?” Had she read his mind? “I told him nothing about her. Look. One of his policemen followed us back that night.” “And saw you enter here no doubt.” “I had to have her.” She sat beside him, placing a hand on his trembling one. “What if she depended on an alibi from you? Would you give it?” Did he want to be her alibi? He discovered that he did. “Yes.”

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Relief filled her eyes. “If you care at all about her, say you were with her before the murder of your uncle.” Unease gripped him. “Did she have anything to do with my uncle’s death? Please tell me.” She smiled, and a sense of peace filled him. “Lily is no killer.” He leaned back in the sofa, relieved. “I didn’t think she was.” Sliding her arm around his shoulder she leaned forward. Barely touching his nose, she said. “You care about her, more than you should, I think.” Was he that obvious? “What if I do?” Her lip twitched. “Can I trust you to keep silent with what I am about to tell you.” Unable to fight the growing arousal he felt for Maeve, he tried to move away from her but she held him fast. “Is it in connection with the murders?” “No. It’s about Lily. The Saturday night may be the last you see of her if Holborn has anything to do with it.” Her tongue ran over her lips. “Do you want that?” Desire flowed over him and he heard the words flow from his lips, unbidden. “I can’t imagine not seeing her again.” “I know. Lily wanted me to give you a gift. Do you like gifts?” “I … don’t know.” Unsure as to why, he wanted desperately to fuck Maeve. “I’ll give you a sample.” He didn’t even get a chance to answer when in a blur he fell backwards onto the cushions of the sofa with her on top of him. His cock burned with the need for release. Licking his neck, she bit. All his resistance fled as he surrendered to her. His cock became so hard he thrust against her skirts. He found no rational part of him remaining save to fuck her. His heart hammered so loudly it beat in his head like a drum. He felt a hand cupping his cock and he cried out as he orgasmed. He didn’t know how such an intense experience was possible. He bucked as he came again, but still didn’t find release. He heard the rustle of skirts as she moved on top of him. A cool breeze briefly surrounded his throbbing cock followed by an incredible tightness. She was fucking him. Her mouth was still on his neck as she met him thrust for thrust. Never had he fucked so hard in desperation. It was as if his life depended on finding release at any cost. Maeve faded as he exploded into her. The horse carefully picked its way through the dead and dying that lay in the cobbled street. Covering his mouth he persisted in trying to find her. Moans filled his ears as he continued his search.

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His friends, all who had fled greater London, had considered him mad in pursuing a woman he’d only seen once. A lord can never engage in a relationship with a commoner. She had appeared to him, carrying a painting covered in cloth across the street. Time had stood still as he’d paused to watch her pass. Her green eyes had glimpsed his in a brief flicker of wonder and possibilities. She had cast her gaze aside as quickly as if aware of her station. His heart had threatened to leap from his chest. This is what love felt like. The ache persisted after she’d disappeared from view and had lingered ever since. Prompted by the plague that killed thousands, he returned to find her. Unable to forget her fair face and red hair that strayed from her bonnet, he planned to rescue her. A cry brought him to a halt. Ahead he saw a woman, her lips on a man’s neck. He drew closer ware that she was not whispering to the gentleman. She was killing him. “Vampire,” he hissed. She looked up. Eyes wide she looked in horror as recognition dawned. The vision of his loved one with blood on her mouth shattered the love he’d felt. Pain filled his eyes as he climbed onto his horse and fled. The street became a blur as he tried to quell the tears. A brief caress had touched his mind. Forgive me. He’d refused to listen to her voice, too disturbed by what he’d seen. A creature considered vile, one that took the life essence of others. How could he have loved that sweet faced woman and then to see her as… Pain filled his being. I love a thing of evil. The vision faded. His hands gripped her buttocks as he continued to ebb into Maeve. Her face came back into focus. She looked flushed. “What was that I saw?” he croaked. Maeve caressed his neck. A searing pain came and went. “A memory.” The thought of Lily as a vampire left a sickening feeling in his stomach. “Why?” “Why did I show you this?” “Yes,” he whispered. “I think she’s in love with you, and you with her.” “You fucked me to find that out?”

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“Lily spoke about how good you were. I wanted to see for myself.” James wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed, intrigued or amused. One thing he did know. He’d never experienced anything so intense. “And those memories? Are you sure they’re mine?” “I took those memories from your mind. The rest was me being carried away.” He was still caught at the other word she had mentioned. Love. “I don’t think so. I care about her but not to the extent of wanting her exclusively or-” “You like the variety but deep down you are a one woman man. I suggest you enjoy Lily on the Saturday evening and if you can’t accept she’s a vampire, forget you ever met her.” An ache so deep threatened to engulf him. “How can I?” “If your love is stronger than your revulsion of what you saw, you will accept her.” Cupping his chin she held him fast. “Has it occurred to you that Lily may have been forced into her predicament?” “I don’t understand.” Releasing him she smiled wanly. “A lone woman even in these times has a hard time of surviving. What would it have been like then during the plague?” Confusion swept over him. “How old is Lily?” “She has lived since the beginning of the black plague.” The buildings and the windows were from a different era. That meant she was… Maeve stroked his cheek. “Two centuries old.” She climbed off him. “Lily is not what she seems, nor am I. How do you think I made you lust after me so badly.” James quickly buttoned up his breeches. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Tell me.” “I have tasted you enough that I trust you.” Placing her hand on his knee, she lowered her voice. Do you feel anything when I bite?” Recalling the painful sting, he touched his neck. “Briefly, but the pleasure takes that part away and I-” Embarrassed he stopped. “I induced that.” The other word sunk in. Did she say bite? He looked up at her sharply. She nodded. “I bit you and took your blood to bring you to orgasm so intensely. It is an offer few are given. Most men will never know what you experienced.” A sudden realization came to him. She was a vampire, as was Lily. “James?” The room spun around him. “You are all vampires.” “Yes.”

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The revelation terrified and thrilled him. Touching his neck, he asked. “How do you… live? Like this.” “Yes. A little here and there is sufficient for our needs.” “Why didn’t she tell me?” “Lily was afraid to. I have looked into your heart. You are what she needs.” “I saw her in daylight. I thought vampires couldn’t stand the light.” That he could think so logically astounded him. “Lily takes care with a veil and avoids the brightest part of the days. Needless to say the winter sun is of little danger.” She had worn a veil outside but indoors, no. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? Maeve stroked his cheek, making him feel at ease. “Should you remember this, James, or should I remove every facet of her existence from your mind?” Kissing his lips, she smiled. “I made a promise, so you must forget. You’ll remember other things by the time you reach home, but not what I told you about Lily.” She helped him to his feet. “You should go home and rest.” With Maeve’s aid, James stumbled down the stairs to the street below. With an effort he climbed into the carriage. “Home, driver,” he said. He closed his eyes, contemplating what Maeve had told him about how Lily felt for him. That Maeve did, implied a great deal of trust on her part. As for how he felt about Lily, he already knew. He loved her, but how to tell her, or should he tell her? The problem was, was there any future possible? Did he want to become like her? He frowned. Like what? All he recalled was Maeve and the way she had fucked him. Embarrassed he looked out. What had possessed him to have her? He drifted in and out of consciousness, and each time he did, the visions that he experienced became more obscure. A jolt brought him back to awareness. The carriage had stopped in front of Hubert’s home. James paid the driver and made his way to the open door. “You look radiant,” Hubert said. James suppressed a chuckle. He wondered how Maeve would react to that statement. “I need some rest.” “I’d say you do.” The walk up the steps seemed to take forever. He fell onto the bed, clothes and all.

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Chapter 10

After they’d descended onto a rooftop above the Champs-Elysees, Lyon released her. Climbing down the ladder to an open window, she looked inside.

The room was as sumptuous as she

remembered. Ornate curtains hung from windows, and rich furnishing filled the room more befitting of Versailles than here. Constance rose from the sofa. “Lily.” The wild woman who’d fled so recently could no longer be seen. Her gaze shifted behind her. Lily knew that look. Constance desired him desperately. Lyon placed his back on Lily’s back. Don’t speak of her feelings towards me. She loves you. You will have to accept that. I know. If only I felt something more beyond the need to fuck her senseless. She stroked his cheek. You loved me after a fashion. He smiled. Perhaps my feelings may change but they will never be the same that I have for you. Love her or desire her but don’t compare her to me. You don’t compare James to me? No. That’s sad. “Lily. I’m glad to see you again. They embraced. “How is London?” “Holborn thinks you’re the culprit and if he doesn’t find you, he’ll conveniently blame me.” Her face went pale. “I’ve put you in danger.” “Obvious, I would have thought.” “If what you say is true, what does he gain from this?” “He is in the public eye, day in day out,” Lyon said. “So are politicians and entertainers,” Constance argued. Lyon crossed his arms. “Politicians expect to be in the news, as do entertainers. Police tend to be less overt in their activities but we have Holborn making new speculations every day and scaring half the population in the process.” Constance barely hid her sarcasm. “I’m insulted he thinks it’s a serial killer pretending to be a vampire.”

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Placing her hands on her hips, Lily tried to keep the snarl out of her voice. “You want me to tell him that you are a vampire? Will that appease you?” She has too much pride. No my love, Constance is still a naive child, despite your best efforts. She spun around to face him. “How so?” He strode to Constance’s side. “We were discussing how you show incredible naiveté when it comes to accepting the repercussions of your acts.” He ran his hand over her shoulder to her neck. Lily could sense her trembling. “You need to be more world-wise my dear. Perhaps when we have controlled the bloodlust, I will take you to places where you can learn some lessons.” Constance’s eyes widened with concern. Offering a reassuring smile, Lily said. “What Lyon means is that if he shows you murderers who have no remorse, you may gain some understanding as to why you don’t either.” “I do-” Lyon glided his lips over her neck. “No you don’t, but don’t worry, I’ll show you.” The poor woman nearly went into a swoon. Releasing her, Lyon took a step backwards. “You will have developed a conscience when I am done with you.” He returned to Lily’s side. “We must discuss what to do next. Do you have any suggestions?” An idea formed. “The journalist and Holborn had a falling out at the funeral. What if the journalist could be persuaded to extract the truth about the last murder from Doctor Sloane? Perhaps we could threaten Holborn with publication? Would that work?” He shook his head. “Even if Francis obtained the truth from the surgeon, do you truly think that will be sufficient for him to be intimidated into leaving you be. No Lily, we need more.” “Don’t you think I know that?” “This is where James can aid us.” He being present would make a difference. Holborn would not take kindly to being interrogated in front of a gentleman. Then again she had seen Holborn on the verge of committing violence. Without James that possibly was more likely to occur. The problem was, she might succumb to the bloodlust and end up killing him instead. “I don’t know what to do.” “You don’t have to return to London at all.” His gaze softened. “You could stay here as long as you wanted.” And never see James again. “No, I can’t.” Constance eyes narrowed. “Are you mad? Holborn will find a way to arrest you.”

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“I’m hardly in danger from Holborn.” “So why not stay. After all what is there to keep you in London?” “The girls,” she replied weakly. “We have fled before in times like this.” Her eyes narrowed. “It’s this James, isn’t it?” Lyon nodded. “Lily’s in love but is in denial.” “Turn him and bring him to Paris.” As much as the idea should have abhorred her, it held a certain appeal. If James did agree to turn, he’d be unable to remain in London regardless. Family would be something he’d have to leave behind. You don’t even know if he has a mother. What did she know about him? “I don’t know if I have the right.” Lyon cupped her elbow drawing her close. “It’s not such a foolish idea.” Removing his hand she said. “I must go back.” He gave a wry smile. “I knew, didn’t I Constance. She loves that stuffy English gentleman more than me.” Constance smiled briefly. Lily caught the fleeting joy in her mind as she contemplated having Lyon to herself again. Lily wandered to the window and looked out. “We’ll return later tonight and when we do, I’d like to see Maeve.” “Regarding Holborn.” She nodded. “Maeve is more level headed about such things. Perhaps she can suggest a way that may solve my problem with Holborn once and for all.” He nodded slowly. “That makes sense. There is one more thing.” “What?” “You can’t leave James out of this. You must tell him what you plan and the alternative, if it should come to that.” What if she did have to flee after all? She may not even have a chance to say goodbye. She felt so weary but the night was far from over, for her. “I’d like to be alone with Constance.” Lyon briefly kissed her on the lips. “I’ll wait for you on the rooftop.” Constance grimaced. No longer angry with her, Lily could not hide her annoyance at Constance’s lack of trust. “Why didn’t you seek my aid at the beginning?”

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“I didn’t even know until I killed the first. You know how the bloodlust can creep up on one, then when you are aware of it, it’s too late. At least you had the advantage of the plague.” No opportunity had occurred since where one could lose oneself in the simple act of killing. “There were so many who wanted to die than live in such terrible pain.” “These men I killed were going to die eventually. Isn’t it the same?” Lily clenched her fist. What twisted reasoning was this? “Were those men you killed in London pleading for release from a terrible disease? What were you thinking when you took their lives?” Constance flinched. “I-” “Let’s start with Edward. What possessed you there?” Constance lowered her lashes. “I lost… control. The sips weren’t enough, not anymore. When Edward first came to me I told him about my thirst. He offered himself to me if he could have some of the blood back.” “You told Edward about us. Were you completely mad?” She flinched. “He knew and understood. It worked for several weeks until he wanted more. I was a fool to have told him.” Barely controlling her anger, Lily increased the distance between them. “Yes, you were.” “Edward was a danger to you. He had to be silenced, just like the others.” “What? You told others about us?” “No. Only Edward. Initially I shared his blood and let him go home. He wanted more, and threatened to burn down the establishment if I refused.” Lily had no idea. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have–” Her stance became defiant. “What. What could you do Lily? I tried to keep control.” Tears fell down her cheeks. It was as if all her energy had drained at that moment. It was too late to consider what should have been done. Lyon was Constance’s best hope now. He had the stamina and the patience to cure her. “Stay here with Lyon. He can quench the lust in the most hardened vampire.” A hint of desire filled her eyes. “Lyon will take you as his lover, have no doubt. He likes the anticipation as much as the actual act.” Pink rose over Constance’s cheeks. “I’ve been around men long enough to realize that. I’m a half-century old vampire who feels like a young woman again. I can’t ever recall feeling like this. Have you?”

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Lily knew exactly she felt. James had opened places in her heart she thought had died. “I feel the same way for James as you do for Lyon. At least you’re fortunate that Lyon’s a vampire.” Her eyes widened. “I’ve not met him, have I?” “No. And nor will you.” “I have no interest in him or any other man, besides Lyon.” She lowered her voice. “Why don’t you make James yours forever?” “I don’t have the right.” “He has the right to be given a choice. As Lyon said, you must tell him the truth about yourself.” “Like telling him how I tried to stop you in killing Edward but enjoyed every moment as his life ebbed from him.” Constance’s hands went to her mouth. “I’m so sorry.” And fled from the room. Finding the room insufferable to remain in, Lily climbed out of the window, and flew up to the roof. It felt wonderfully cold. “That last comment was uncalled for.” He would have heard everything from outside the window and flown up here just after Constance left. “She was a fool. Edward could have been persuaded another way.” His lips curled into a smile. “Perhaps, but it’s no longer relevant.” Unfortunately, he was right. His hand slid over her back to around her waist, drawing her close to him. “Constance will be safe here.” “I know.” Releasing her, he sat on the ledge, overlooking the street. “Tell me how you chose her.” Lily had never told him as he’d never asked before. It intrigued her. “I’m curious, that’s all. Go on.” She sat beside him. The sound of the clip clop of horses rose as another carriage passed. “Constance was a whore working the streets north of Wych Street in those days. A man wanted more than she had agreed to and began to get violent.” Once, they’d talked half the night about everything. She missed that. “He was very big and I didn’t have the strength to overpower him so I slipped behind him. Constance was smart enough not to let him on that I was there. I bit him.” “You showed who you were to a complete stranger? It’s a miracle she didn’t run screaming for her life.”

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That moment had still surprised Lily. Constance had waited until the man passed out. Unfazed she had said. I’ve heard of your kind. I never imagined meeting one. Smiling, she repeated the words to Lyon. He gave a low whistle. “I’ve never met anyone that much at ease with meeting our kind for the first time.” “After I had subdued the man, I wondered what to do with her. She was so energized by what I’d done that she began to ask questions about me. Normally, I’d have induced a bite to make her forget me but I didn’t. I had this feeling about her so I took her home, not the establishment for I didn’t own it then, but another place north of London, for her recuperation.” “When did you turn Constance?” “A year after we met.” She still recalled how Constance had complained of being too exhausted to keep up with the gentlemen visitors.

“She believed we had more insatiable appetites as vampires and wanted to

experience them.” The actual moment still remained vivid in her mind. Constance’s pale skin looked so beautiful against her blood-red gown. She already looked like a vampire to Lily. “Maeve and I shared the exchange of blood to change her but as only one can be a parent, it was I.” Lyon nodded. “It’s exactly like that and the attachment never dies.” That was true. “Will you keep Constance with you?” “She’s wild, Lily, as you were when we first met.” “The advantages of immortality. You can take on a younger woman and handle the physical demands.” A mischievous glint formed in his eyes. “You certainly keep a man in a constant state of desire.” James had certainly suffered that. Amusement filled his eyes. “You’re thinking of James again.” She blushed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met a man who’s affected me so much.” “Like I did?” Modest as always. “Of course like you.” “Secretly you compare all your lovers to me.” She patted his behind. “We should return to London.” His gaze swept the deserted street below. “First I need another drink, but I don’t think I’ll find it here.”

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Not many people lingered so late in the evening. It wasn’t all that safe. Needless to say, there would be someone if one looked long and far enough. He cupped her elbow. “I want a woman this time. It’s only fair.” ***** James could not believe what he saw. He rubbed his eyes to make sure. Lily was standing near the open window. He didn’t recall it being opened when he went to bed. Who cares? She’s here. “Stay where you are.” Her voice sounded different, as did the smell of her. In the pale light that came from the streetlamp below, she appeared to glow with vitality. “You look good.” He was about to climb out of bed, when, an instant later she was sitting beside him. She stoked his cheek, sending a wave of fire straight to his groin. “So do you.” A fragment of sense returned. What was she doing here? “Aren’t you supposed to be in Paris?” “I wanted Holborn to think I was away.” Think. Hard to when his cock began to stir just at the sight of her. “Why did you come here? Holborn may be having this place watched.” She smiled, one that made his heart melt. “I checked. There’s no one there. She stroked his thigh sending his cock semi hard. Looking around, her smile widened. “I certainly hope there are no spy holes in here.” With an effort he removed her hand from his thigh. The burning eased. “Why are you here, seriously?” Her smile fled. “I believe Holborn arranged the latest murder. Not that he committed the crime, he took an opportunity.” He was beginning to see how desperate Holborn was to accuse her at any cost. “He came back later on, determined to find you.” “I was worried you weren’t convinced about him.” “He’s never failed in solving a case. Lily. Please, forgive me but I have to know if you have any idea who killed my uncle.” She lowered her lashes. “Constance.” His mouth opened then closed again. Words refused to form. “I found out when I was in Paris.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You think I lied to you?” She rose. “If that is the case, I’m leaving now.”

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He gripped her hand. “No,” he whispered. “Don’t go.” Pain filled her face. “How do you think I felt? She was a trusted friend and placed me in danger as a result.” “I’m sorry.” “You are special, James. I wish I could show you so many things, but it’s not my right.” “What isn’t your right?” “Only that we can never be together.” He cupped her hand in his. “I-” She placed a finger on his lips. “Don’t say words you will come to regret.” That he loved her beyond all doubt. Was she hinting that their meeting would end within a few days? She removed her hand. “We are too different James. Forget me after Saturday.” “No.” Sadness filled her eyes as she rose. “I am not what you think.” He didn’t know her, not at all aside from the sex and the strange visions she fed him, visions that were beginning to be more like something he’d heard in passing, rather than seen. “Let me know who you are. I know. Why don’t we go abroad when this business has settled down?” Sadness briefly filled her eyes. “The murders will not stop as long as Holborn is in charge.” He could not let her go. “What can I do?” She seemed relieved. “If I can find proof, will you aid me in bringing him to justice?” “Yes.” For if he didn’t, he was certain he’d never see her again. She rose. “I must go. Please tell no one we met.” A sense of peace filled his mind, sending him into a blissful dreamy state.

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Chapter 11

She watched James’s chest fall into a steady breathing pattern of sleep, then returned to the window and looked outside. The policeman who had passed before was nowhere to be seen. Using the fog as cover, she climbed out of the window and floated to the street. Adjusting her skirts, she headed for the corner. Lyon stood there, waiting. “Did you tell him of your plans?” A pang of sadness filled her. “No.” He threw his hands in the air, spun around and walked away from her. Lyon. Please. He reappeared from the darkness. “It’s your future, not mine.” He took her hand. “Come on. I want to show you where I’ve stayed the last week. It’s meant Holborn can’t trace my movements as he could in a hotel.” He chuckled. “For good measure I chose a place near where Holborn lives.” Her mood lightened. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” His grin gave away his answer. He had found a woman. “I wanted some enjoyment.” “Who is she?” “A widow who owns the place finds me a most satisfying guest.” “You used your charms no doubt.” He scooped her in his arms. “No doubt.” The street lamps were barely visible in the thick fog as they descended. She could just make out the houses on the opposite side of the street. By her senses she knew they were somewhere near Hyde Park. “There.” he pointed opposite. “Holborn’s place.” His home was such a strong contrast to the lovely garden that existed in front of Hubert’s home. Instead, a ditch ran along the front of the house, barricaded by a grill fence. Nearby, a small bridge of steps ran from the street to the door, the only front entrance. It amused her why the middle class chose to live in the equivalent of fortresses. “It fits the kind of place I imagined Holborn would live in.” Lyon chuckled. “His home wasn’t hard to find. Come.”

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She didn’t want to know whose minds he’d teased that information out of. Lyon had never been subtle in extracting what he needed. Near the other end of the street, Lyon climbed a series of steps to a door. Removing a key he opened it. She followed him quickly up the nearby stairs, along a corridor until they reached a door near the middle. He opened it. The room itself was sparely furnished, a sofa, table and a large bed. “She won’t come up here will she?” “No. I go to her rooms when she needs to be sated. I’ll be able to observe from here.” “I thought this was to be my hiding place?” “Yours is next door.” The thought of being in close company to Lyon reminded her too much of old times. “I’ll return to my establishment.” “The police are watching it. If you care about your girls, stay away.” “Entering and leaving buildings unnoticed is child’s play.” He cupped her cheeks, making her knees go weak. “Your girls will react differently. A policeman will notice.” Removing his hands was the hardest thing she did. This was what had happened last time. His protectiveness had suffocated her. “I’m aware of that and I’m grateful but you don’t own me, not anymore.” He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m only doing what is best for you.” “I’ll be careful.” Resigned, he backed away. “Please, go.” Lily slipped out of the window. Let him sulk, it would soon pass. Landing on the roof of her establishment, she had no need to be concerned about a policeman seeing her. The fog was as thick as ever. She made for the open window at the back. After entering, Maeve closed it. “I’ve been anticipating your return. The girls are quite annoyed by this murder business. The police presence has been bad for business.” Lily didn’t sense anyone else in the building. “Where are they?” “Back to their own homes in the country. Don’t worry, they’ll return when the fuss has died down. It always does eventually.”

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“I’m not so concerned about business, none of us need the money.” It was so much more than that. Access to a ready supply of sex and blood and being able to pay exorbitant fees to have some fun made this kind of business a real pleasure. Or it had. James was beginning to change her outlook. Other men didn’t seem so appealing anymore. Maeve wandered to the nearby sofa and sat. “I’ve closed the doors. Not that it mattered too much. A lot of our clients were becoming annoyed by the police presence.” Folding her hands in her lap, Lily sat beside her. “The pleasures of the flesh aren’t as important as keeping one’s liaisons secret.” English gentleman was very good at discretion. Lily chuckled softly. How many men arrived here pleading for the utmost discretion, yet were happy to have a complete stranger watch them fucking a whore. It was the danger that thrilled some gentlemen, who otherwise lived a dull life. Maeve placed her hand over Lily’s. “If we must, we can start elsewhere but I have a feeling you don’t want to.” The veneer she’d so tightly began to crumble at last. “What did you see with James?” “The visions are his.” Sadness filled her. She had half hoped it had been an image she’d projected onto him. “It’s not all hopeless, he was curious too.” A sliver of hope returned. “Tell me.” “The prospect of you being a vampire holds a certain fascination for him. I think if you are patient you could convince him to accept you.” “By injecting more blood into him and making him change.” “If you must.” “And if I fail?” Maeve gave her a sympathetic gaze. “Then you have lost nothing.” Trust Maeve to be so practical. “I’ll consider it.” “You mean you’ll defer any decision at all.” She didn’t answer. “Back to Holborn,” Maeve said. “He was quite annoyed you’d gone. No matter. I have something interesting to share with you. That journalist, Francis is here.” “What does he want?”

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Maeve grinned. “He interviewed me today, quite a dashing man too and far more exciting.” She blushed. “I have to admit I did have a quick snack. He’s asleep now but I’ll rouse him. You’ll not be disappointed.” An exhausted Francis returned with Maeve. He looked quite nervous yet she detected a hint of determination as well. “I’m tired of being Holborn’s puppet.” How Maeve managed to elicit such an admission impressed her. Maeve patted his hand. “Tell her why you would want to help us.” Francis sat on the sofa beside Maeve. “Holborn has embellished the truth. That I can tolerate. What happened the other night has gone too far. Even Sloane is concerned. He, like I, believe a killer should be hanged but,” nodding to Lily, “not an innocent.” She could not believe her good fortune.

Before she became too enthusiastic, she had to

determine Sloane’s impression regarding the other deaths. Lily sat on the sofa opposite. “How does Sloan believe the others died?” He leaned forward. “That’s more unusual. He believed a person adept at using a syringe is pretending to make the bodies appear to be drained of blood. What concerns him is how quickly Edward lost blood. He’s wary about drawing any conclusion as he fears they border on the fantastical.” Another surgeon had suspected the same five years ago.

A man of superstitious nature

considering his profession, he’d left the police shortly after the trial had concluded. Lily needed to gauge Francis’s reaction. “What do you think?” He raised his eyebrows. “Certainly not vampires, but I do have a particular interest in bizarre murders. It was one of the reasons I offered to report the events. I’d hoped to find out more, in particular the kind of murderer, when he or she is eventually caught.” “You mean how he or she did it.” He nodded eagerly. “Yes.” ”Holborn thinks I committed the last murder,” Lily said. He raised his hands, palms outward. “You were there but who is to say you did it. What would it serve you in any case? You have no need to steal drugs from an apothecary, and you do not kill a person where you live. No. Another caused this crime.” “Do you think Constance had anything to do with this?” “I wanted to interview her so I could see if she were capable. It’s why I came to see Maeve.” His cheeks reddened. “I’d hoped she might be able to arrange for us to meet in secret.” Maeve grinned.

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Francis had ended up in a very different arrangement. “You want the truth and are prepared to seek it out.” Lily reassured him. “That’s rare in a journalist.” He glanced at the paper on the table, and picked it up. He tapped the front page. “Every article I wrote has been carefully worded to be consistent. And this…” He pointed to an article. “Is what I didn’t like…how he implied that Constance was the culprit. He implied that you knew about it and were hiding valuable evidence from him.” He tossed the paper back onto the table. “He’s become quite obsessed with arresting you as the killer of the last man. I suggest if you know where Constance is, ask her to return so she can stand trial.” Lily leaned back into the sofa. “I’m afraid Constance is in hiding and will not return.” “Maeve told me which is why I wanted to see you. Holborn will blame you and if he cannot force you to admit to the death of that poor man, who knows what he will try next.” “You seem to know Holborn very well.” He winced. “More than I’d like. I was with him when he suggested to the police surgeon he rewrite the police report. He truly thinks I’m no danger to him.” This could be what she needed to bring Holborn down. “Would you be able to obtain an original report?” “I suspect it’s been destroyed by now.” Lily didn’t think so. “If Sloane is concerned it’s unlikely he’d destroy it. Surely you could check, and if it exists, keep it somewhere safe.” He pursed his lip. “I’m not sure if that is wise.” “Why not make a copy?” “That would work,” he said half-heartedly. Sensing he needed more encouragement she said. “In the interim I will pretend to endeavor to find Constance.” “Are you sure that’s wise? Holborn does not take well to any who usurp him. Others who I have met have commented on his obsessive nature. Success at any cost. Please. Madame. I have a question that I’ve not dared to ask and that is, did Constance kill those men?” She glanced at Maeve, who nodded briefly. “I’m afraid so, Francis.” His face went very pale. “How did she kill them?” As much as the poor man needed to be told the truth, she could not. “I’m sorry but you’d not believe me.”

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“Do vampires exist?” he asked with nervous excitement. Lily rose from her seat and sat beside him. She slid her arm behind his shoulders. “You seem quite interested in knowing of their existence, What if they did exist? What would you do?” He glanced at Maeve then Lily, wary of their closeness. Poor man thinks we plan to seduce him again. “It would explain the grin and the loss of blood, even though … I’d find it difficult to stomach the possibility.” Lily whispered in his ear. “Perhaps it’s best not to ask too many questions.” He trembled. “Holborn warned me against that too.” She removed her arm and rose. “Will you tell Holborn anything that was said here tonight?” Francis looked up sharply. “Are you mad? I’ll have no career left.” Maeve ran her hand over his shoulder, pausing near his neck. “I thought you were a man of action, not a coward. Lily’s life is at stake here. Are you going to stand aside and allow her to be arrested and possibly hanged?” Maeve looked up at Lily with a smile on her lips. We’ll convince him yet. Lily retracted her hand and turned to face him. He relaxed a little. “What if we could expose Holborn as a man who’d stoop to any measures to have me hanged? Would you like to be a part of that, or do you want to spend the next who knows how many years being told what to write, knowing it to be a lie and that innocent people are being accused?” Sensing a break in his resolve, she pressed on. “You are an ambitions man in your prime. Imagine the publicity if you exposed Holborn for the fanatic he is. How he will be shown to be as false as the myth of vampires.” He began to warm to the idea. “I would be able to work for any paper I wanted.” She sensed the possibilities race through his mind. Lowering her voice she said. “What if you told Holborn that I planned to kill another at Kensal Green Cemetery this Saturday evening?” His eyes widened. “Would you–” “Actually attempt to kill someone. Heavens no. All you have to is entice him, with policemen of course, to turn up. We’ll be at the far end of the cemetery, near the grand union canal.” And as far away from the gate as possible. She didn’t want too many police possibly interfering too soon. “When?” he asked. She patted his knee. “About six o’clock. It’ll be well and truly dark by then.” Fire filled his eyes. “I’m sorely tempted, but can you succeed?”

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Lily ran her hand up his thigh and gently squeezed. “I am a whore. Believe me. We can draw any confession from a man.” Her gaze held his and she slipped the thought into his mind. He seemed to go into a swoon. Lily increased her influence on him. “Think of what you could achieve. You could be the man who exposes Holborn for what he is. He is due for retirement after all.” Francis smiled, missing her double meaning. “I’ll be there.” She briefly kissed his cheek before releasing him. “Don’t forget to get the police report.” Maeve rose. “Come, my dear. I should get a carriage to take you home.” After Maeve returned she said. “Now that’s settled, let’s go out and have some fun.” Like old times, they would share several men in succession. Normally the idea would have sent Lily’s juices flowing. “I’ll think I’ll stay here.” “You love him. Oh dear, poor Lily. When will you show sense and tell him the truth?” Lily didn’t what to discuss it. “Please. Go.” From the window, Maeve looked out. “In fact, I think I’ll seek out Lyon after all.” After Maeve had gone, she thought further of the plan they had formed. Getting Holborn to Kensal Green cemetery would be perfect. The only dilemma was James. If he came he could witness what was going to happen, but that also placed him at risk. At least he would believe you. She decided to ask Lyon for his opinion. A moan filled her ears as she climbed into the open window. She smiled. Maeve never wasted time in getting fucked either. In this dim light she could see the two, no, three of them clearly. All were completely naked. Lyon was on his back while Maeve was above him, obscuring his face. Her face tilted back in an expression of growing arousal as she rocked back and forward. Lyon gripped her thighs to aid her movement. The other, a younger woman whose dark hair covered her shoulders was on her hands and knees sucking his cock. She must be the widow. By the way her jaws moved Lily knew the woman was sucking him hard, just the way Lyon liked it. He writhed as she lowered her mouth again. Lily crossed her arms and watched. A faint stirring between her legs made her smile. A pity James wasn’t here otherwise she’d be more than willing to join them. Maeve moaned as she came. Lyon gripped her harder drawing her lower. He liked to get his tongue as deep as he could. Blood pounded in Lily’s veins as Lyon began to come. She sensed him as he bit into Maeve who let out a high shriek.

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Lily quickly reached the edge of the bed and knelt. The smell of sex and the exchange of blood sent her nipples into hardened peaks. The widow moaned as Lyon came into her mouth. Lily decided to help her reach orgasm fast. Standing behind, she glided two fingers between the woman’s legs then thrust into her dripping passage. She stiffened only for an instant as awareness of a stranger in the room struck her. Sliding her free hand around the widow’s waist, Lily leaned over her, cupping her breast. In a tone that usually took the fear out of the most recalcitrant customers, she whispered. “I’m a friend of Lyon’s. He likes a bit of variety. Come my dear, come for me.” She moved her fingers in a steady rhythm. The widow moved her hips side to side trying to reach orgasm faster. With a quick bite to her neck, Lily pushed her over the edge. She moaned into Lyon’s still hard cock, her body shuddering in uncontrollable spasms as another wave of orgasm took her. A soft moan later, Lily released her. She was not sated, not yet but she could wait. As much as she wanted to straddle Lyon and ease his erection she had no intention of doing so. Releasing the sated woman, she returned to Lyon’s side. “Send her away. I need to speak to the two of you.” Maeve turned around, her face flushed. “You came after all.” Lyon lifted her off him. He looked flushed but hardly sated. “You want my advice don’t you?” “Yes.” The young widow looked up with dreamy eyes. “Lyon. You are so wonderful.” Her gaze fixed on Lily. In a flash Lyon blocked their view. “Come by dear. You should go to bed,” and steered her towards the open door. Still aroused, Lily closed the door behind them. “I need a good fucking but not from him.” Maeve returned to the bed and lay on her stomach. “Have you decided to ask James along?” “That’s why I came here.” The door opened silently. Closing it behind him, Lyon inclined his head to Maeve. “Maeve told me what you’ve planned. It could work if Holborn is incensed the right way. I could manipulate his emotions. Do you want me to?” Was it worth trying? It would improve her chances at a confession but it would make Holborn more unpredictable. Was that worth it over asking James to be witness? She decided it was. “Yes, but be careful. I don’t want him to lose control so completely that I may have to kill him.” He feigned innocence. “Perhaps it’s best you don’t touch his mind.”

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Cupping her cheek he drew her close. “I’ll not interfere unless there is an opportunity where influencing him will be in your favor.” She trusted him enough to keep his word. “Only if it’s in my favor.” Teasing his hand under her bodice he loosened it sufficiently to reveal a breast. “What else do you want to ask me?” Leaning forward he began to suckle her nipple. A flash of pain as he bit soon faded as his lust filled her body. She arched back, feeling his desire fill her. Her heart began to race with his. He lifted his head. “If you don’t bring James you should mention to him that you will be late for supper on Saturday evening.” “You mean leave him behind?” “I believe it’s unnecessary to prove anything to him. He will either love you as you are or reject you.” A few more buttons and her bodice fell to the floor. Licking her other nipple sent her almost to her knees. “Hmm. You still want me don’t you?” “Yes.” Why was she so enamored by him? Being her first he always had power over her but part of her didn’t want this any more–or him. The skirt rustled as he undid the last of the buttons. It fell to the floor. “Lyon.” The tip of his cock pressed against her thighs. “I can’t get enough of you.” Words she had said back to him, once. James had also said those same words. The fire inside fizzed and died, shocking her. Lyon backed away. “I’ve never seen you like this.” “I’m sorry Lyon.” He stroked her chin. Sadness lingered in his gaze. “You love James and you must claim him.” “I… will. Soon.” “After we have dealt with Holborn you must return to Hubert’s place and offer James a chance.” Lily grabbed her skirt. “Don’t press me further on this.” Maeve crawled over to the edge of the bed. “I’ll look after Hubert and James. You look after Holborn.” Slipping into her bodice she buttoned it up. “I’ll try.” With lightning speed she reached Lily’s side. “Promise me you’ll return afterwards, no matter what happens.”

Ladies of the Night: Lily

“If all goes well, I’ll return.” She squeezed Lily’s arm. “Regardless of what happens.” “I promise.” “You better or I’ll send him to you,” Maeve warned. “Don’t-” Too late, Maeve returned to the bed. Lyon’s gaze raked Maeve’s naked body. “I assume you’re staying?” Maeve slid her arms around his neck. “For hours, yet.” Lily left by the window as the first moans reached her ears.

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Chapter 12

James sensed her before she leaned over to kiss him. “Lily,” he murmured. The bed moved as she sat beside him. Through sleepy eyes he saw her outline in the dark room. A hand gently pressed his chest. “Listen to me, about Saturday.” What felt like a fist tightened around his heart, she’s not going to come. He said. “Don’t leave me.” A tiny glitter of moisture appeared on her cheek. She wiped it quickly. “I may be a little late, that’s all.” The pressure released in his chest and in his heart. That meant she was still coming. She smiled, showing a hint of beautiful white teeth. “It’s a tiny matter. It won’t take long.” Raising his hand he stroked her cheek. “Can you stay?” He sensed tension arc across her shoulders. “I…” “I want you Lily, always.” “James. There are things about me that make such an option impossible.” “Tell me what they are.” Turning to face him she seemed torn with what to say. “You abhor the idea of vampires.” “Yes, but what does that have to do with you?” “Have you considered how you received such pleasure from me, and Maeve?” The occasional vision had flashed before him, causing him great unease but he could never remember what it was. It was connected to Lily, somehow. Why, he had no idea, but the feeling that it did refused to go away. “I’ll tell you and you must listen. We taste your blood and feed you with our desire. It accentuates what you would ever experience normally. I gave you more because I have feelings for you that I shouldn’t. I wanted you to share how I felt but other memories resurfaced. You despise vampires as creatures that feed on others. We do but we don’t cause people to die.” His initial reaction was to release her hand and ask her to leave, when it occurred to him that this was the woman he loved. She’d never hurt him or threatened his life. She seemed terrified as to how he would react to her admission. In fact he wasn’t sure how he felt. “Are you serious?”

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She seemed to relax a little. “At least you listen. No matter how skeptical you are, you will give a person a chance to explain themselves. You have no idea how rare that is.” As much as her words flattered him, the fact she was a vampire could not be ignored. In fact he was amazed how he was taking this so calmly and logically. Perhaps it was due to being so tired that any feeling beyond mild unease was simply too much effort. “I think you need to time to consider what I’ve said.” Dragging through an increasing thicker fog he saw her eyes bore into his. Was she causing him to become sleepy? If so he’d not have a bar of it. “Lily. Don’t.” The fog seemed to lift. Was she causing him to think like this? He heard stories that vampires could influence the minds of their victims. “Don’t make me forget. Please.” She stiffened. Annoyed she was influencing him he cast her hand aside as if it were burning him. “Don’t meddle with my mind.” “I thought–” Amazed that he could think so clearly again, he pressed on. “What else have you hidden from me?” “I can’t tell you.” “I need to know the truth.” So I can tell if I love you enough to beg you to stay. “You have memories of me from another time.” He wasn’t sure if he heard right. “Can you repeat that?” “You and I have met in another time.” There were many things he was prepared to consider, vampires for heavens sake, but past lives. “Sorry Lily. It’s too much to take in.” “I knew it would be which is why I hesitated.” She rose. “I should go.” “I think you should,” needing to be alone to think about what she had said. “Is Saturday evening-” “Still on. Yes.” No matter his mind was reeling from what she was saying, he feared if he said no he many never see her again. In a fluid movement she disappeared out of the window. The curtains moved in her wake. “I’m in love with a vampire.” The words sounded familiar as he whispered them. He should be disgusted, but could not help in being just a little fascinated.

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Did he want to see her again, and if so what sort of future existed for them? It was folly to even think of a future as a vampire. The thought to taking blood made him feel nauseous, now he knew what that wine contained, plus the blood she had injected into him. Sleep my love, a voice said from afar. Love. Had he heard right? Yawning he felt a languor overcome him. Daylight filled his closed eyelids. He opened them, feeling their brightness affect him. The conversation he had with Lily last night returned. Vampires. He’d not been dreaming after all. The sense of calm persisted. If it were Lily’s doing he was thankful for it. In fact he felt as if he were partially drunk. Climbing out of bed he looked outside. The fog was thin, making the light outside seem unnaturally bright. He listened to the sound of horses as a black hansom carriage paused outside their house. Hubert climbed out, tilted his hat to the driver and paid him. Rearranging his hat, Hubert walked almost in a skip to the front door. He’d obviously been between the thighs of a woman last night. Donning a robe, James made his way down the stairs towards the rear parlor. Hubert’s eyes were rimmed with shadow. “There you are James. I say. What a splendid night I had last night.” In a way James pitied his cousin who found pleasure from one sexual encounter to another, who found nothing more interesting than the latest woman he had slept with. Once James envied that wildness, now he felt sorry for Hubert. He sat on a chair overlooking the garden, filled with a fine white mist. Hubert sat opposite. “What did you do last night? “Nothing?” “You haven’t seen Lily?” He almost said yes but caught himself in time. “She’s in Paris.” “Oh yes, so she is. Holborn has been bothering me about her again.” He removed a cigar from a nearby box. James shook his head at the offer of one. Hubert wandered over to the fire. Returning a few moments later he drew from his pipe. The rich aroma of tobacco filled the air. “I’m looking forward to Maeve and Lily tonight.”

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“Lily will be a little late so you will have to contend with having Maeve to yourself.” Too late to retract the words he added. “Maeve told me.” “When?” “Yesterday.” “I hope the delay won’t be too long.” Rising, he yawned. “I’ll go and get some sleep.” James watched him leave. At times like this he was glad that Hubert thought with his cock and not his brain. He glanced at his fob watch – how he longed for tonight to arrive. ***** Lily couldn’t believe her nervousness. It was all prepared and yet she hesitated. Dressed in black she made her way with Lyon to the cemetery. The fog was thinner, and with the full moon, the light seemed brighter than usual. The gates were locked and two policemen stood in front of them. No sign of Holborn or Francis, yet. Lyon led her back into the shadows. They’ll be inside. Slipping over the fence, they made their way past many tombs the size of small cottages. The eerie stillness of the night made every sound more noticeable. With still no sign of them, Lily followed Lyon down the track as quietly as possible. The odd rustle behind the occasional gravestone made her pause. It’s a fox. Don’t make this more difficult that it already is. He paused, turned around and came to her side. This means everything to you, doesn’t it. Allowing him to embrace her, she nodded. If I failOne way or another, we won’t. I promise. Releasing her he continued. Soon the sound of running water from the canal reached their ears. Lyon paused. Listen. Voices came from straight ahead. After moving past another tomb, four men came into view; two policemen who were holding lanterns, Francis and Inspector Holborn. Francis raised his hands in a gesture of frustration. “I said she’d be here any moment. Be patient.” “Are you ready?” Lyon whispered. Lily nodded.

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“I’ll be over by that large tomb over there.” He squeezed her hand. “Take care.” With barely a ripple in the air, he was gone. Lily walked into the light. Nervousness clouded Francis’s relief in seeing her. “There. I said she would arrive.” Holborn spun around. “I was told that you were planning to murder someone tonight. I don’t see a body, unless it’s behind the tomb you’ve come from.” A titter escaped the lips of one of the policemen. She recognized the sergeant from the other night. “I planned no murder tonight nor have I any other night. One could not say the same about you, Inspector.” Holborn removed a pipe. “If you want to tell your version of the facts, please begin.” “Why did you falsely report the story of the man found in front of my establishment as being killed in the same way as the others?” Francis took a step forward. “I agree. I’m not comfortable with the alteration to the details of the last murder either.” “Pray tell me how either of you are in a position to contradict a written autopsy report.” “I went to see the body with you,” Francis said. “Are you a doctor experienced with analyzing the dead?” “No,” Francis muttered. “Then don’t meddle in areas that you have no understanding in.” Francis gave Lily a sideways glance. His hand briefly rested on his waistcoat. He has the report. Lily could not believe her good fortune. She turned to face Holborn. She had to get him a lot more agitated than this before playing her hand regarding the report. He would refuse it as nonsense, but he may, if angry enough slip a word or two that could bring his downfall. “Get your notepad ready,” she said to Francis. Moving to the torch of the nearby policeman, Francis waited. Holborn looked as if he were about to stop him then appeared to change his mind. “Write what you want. I’ll check it later to see if I’ll allow any of this to be published.” Lily was no fool. Holborn would not allow a word of what she was about to say reach any newspaper. “What do you think about the existence of vampires?” Holborn nearly dropped his pipe. Lily caught the spark of fear in his mind, nurtured it.

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“I’ll not be fooled into such nonsense. You are a killer as is Constance. You don’t have a need for money nor do you have any customers that are dissatisfied with your… services. I believe you do it because you are ill, gravely ill.” She would not tolerate his insults a moment longer. Tendril by tendril she probed deeper until she reached a barrier. No. She felt Lyon register shock at the same time she did. Reading the mind of another didn’t ensure they be amenable to manipulation. She, like Lyon had mistakenly assumed he could be coerced. “Enough of this. I’m arresting you Lily, as an accessory to murder.” Francis lowered his pencil. “This is nonsense. I’ll not allow it. I’ll report the truth.” “You will not.” I will, and be damned to you Inspector. I can no longer stand by and allow this farce to continue.” “Leave here now or I’ll have you arrested for obstructing a course of enquiry,” Holborn hissed. “No.” He faced the policemen. “Men. Remove him.” The two men hesitated. “Do you want leave the police force with no prospect of other work?” The sergeant moved forward. “Sorry sir, if you can come with us.” “No.” Lily said. Holborn drew in tobacco. Puffing out smoke he said. “These murders are at an end, aren’t they Lily.” We’ll try together, Lyon suggested, unable to hide a hint of panic in his voice. ***** James had waited and waited. Supper concluded and still no sign of Lily. “Where could she be?” Maeve looked at him uneasily. She knows something. “Where is she?” “She’s gone to settle Holborn once and for all.” He sprung to his feet, nearly hitting the table with his thighs as he did so. “Where is she?” What is this?” Hubert asked, surprised. Maeve eyed him levelly. “Kensal Green cemetery.”

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“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her gaze softened. “I promised myself if she had not returned by the conclusion of supper I’d tell you.” Why had she gone to settle Holborn on her own? Shoving the chair aside he stormed from the parlor. Hopefully he’d find a carriage nearby. He ran to the end of the street, nearly running into a carriage that approached him. Please let it be empty. Waving his hands he tried to flag it down. “Sorry sir,” the driver said, passing him “I can help.” He spun around. It was Maeve. “That is if you’re not averse to flying.” Vampires. Flying. He cast any preconceptions aside. This way he’d reach Lily in no time. “What do I do?” “I’ll carry you.” “You don’t look-” She scooped him in her arms. Another heartbeat later they were airborne. Fear and euphoria gripped him as rooftops rushed beneath them. Lights dotted the perimeter of what he knew to be Regents Park. Never had he seem such a sight. “There we are.” A dark area, with the river to one side, appeared. Some of the tombs could be easily seen though the light fog. Maeve planted him on the ground before landing herself. James had never been in a cemetery at night. Moonlight reflected off the larger tombs. A sense of unease filled him. “The dead can’t harm you,” Maeve whispered. “It’s the living you have to worry about.” James looked straight ahead. It appeared they were on a track. “Where are they?” Cocking her head to one side she slowly turned a full circle. “This way,” and pointed behind him. Despite her words, the uneasy feeling he felt refused to leave. After skirting around a large tomb, Maeve paused. “There.” James craned his neck to look around the corner. Lily stood so still he began to worry. “Lily. Let him go.” Maeve whispered. Holborn stumbled as did Lily.

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“What happened?” “She attempted to catch him in her thrall. Unfortunately Holborn is one of a select few who cannot be coerced.” “Her what?” “No time to discuss it. She’s freed him now.” She looked about. “Where’s Lyon?” She went still for a new moment. “Oh dear. Lyon tried as well.” James was about to press her when he saw Lily crossing her arms in a defensive gesture. Even in this light he could tell she appeared worried, very worried. He searched for Francis. He stood between the two policemen. It looked like he’d been arrested. “Don’t go,” Maeve whispered. “Not yet.” James wouldn’t have, had Holborn not removed what looked like a pistol from his jacket. “Sorry. Maeve.” He walked toward them. Holborn inclined his head. “James. Perfect timing. I’m detaining Lily and Francis until more help arrives.” Glancing at his fob watch he smiled. “Another five minutes and this nonsense will be over and done with.” “He plans to make an example of her,” Francis said, “despite her innocence.” James took a step towards the Inspector. “Don’t,” Holborn warned. James paused. He had no idea what Holborn would do with the pistol. “Let her go. She’s not a killer.” “Do you know that for a fact?” “I do know the police report of the last murder is inaccurate.” Holborn barely flinched. “Lily has been feeding you lies I see. I can assure you the report is quite correct.” “I have a copy of the original in a safe place,” Francis said. The Inspector hesitated. One of the policemen shifted uneasily on his feet. Holborn cleared his throat. “And pray tell me how you were able to retrieve any police report at all from a guarded station?” “It was provided to me anonymously,” Francis said. “Isn’t an admission of an error preferable to sending an innocent to be hanged?” James said to Holborn. “I am never wrong. You, sir, are out of line.”

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“Not even if that person is innocent and the facts altered to make her appear guilty.” “If necessary–” He froze. The sergeant released his hold on Francis. Francis adjusted the sleeve on his jacket. “This will be in the papers tomorrow.” “No.” “Too late Inspector. I have the police report and I have witnesses.” Panic filled Holborn’s eyes. “I’ll let Lily go.” The sergeant took a step backwards. His companion looked equally at unease. “Things are never that simple,” Lily warned. James didn’t think so either. All he wanted to do was get her out of here. “Constance killed your uncle,” Holborn said, raising his pistol to her face. “I know.” Holborn’s hand twitched sending James into a fit of panic. “What do you mean, you knew.” The sergeant placed a whistle to his lips, but a hard gaze from Holborn forced him to lower it again. James fought rising panic. He didn’t want any more witnesses. Red flashed across Lily’s eyes. “You better leave, James, while you still can.” If he did that, he would always regret it. “I’ll never see you again.” Holborn lowered his pistol. “How touching. James. I suggest you leave voluntarily or I shall need to have you escorted.” How dare he. He wasn’t going to leave without Lily. He closed the gap between them. “Come Lily. Let’s go.” Holborn shook his head. “She’s admitted to being an accessory to murder.” He glanced at Francis who shook his head sadly. The faces of the two policemen were of utter confusion. Taking her hand he squeezed it. “I’ll stay with you.” Holborn looked over James’s shoulder. “It appears reinforcements are coming after all. Men, assist Francis to the gate then let him go.” The sergeant took a step towards Francis. “Oh and Francis. You no longer have a career.” Any hesitation the two policemen had about defying Holborn, fled. “Sir. If you don’t mind,” the sergeant said.

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“Cowards,” James muttered. “It doesn’t matter my love. All of this will soon be over. See.” Looking in the direction she did, James saw a group of men carrying lanterns coming towards them. “I’m not going with you.” James spun around. What was she going to do? Nothing foolish he hoped. Glancing behind her, Francis and the policemen were a scant dozen steps away. She smiled. Holborn raised his pistol. “You have no choice.” “You really plan to shoot me if I refuse.” “Nothing would give me greater pleasure, but murder is illegal, is it not?” Lily took a step closer. “Do it. James will be my witness.” The pistol wavered. “Don’t be such a fool.” “He’s right Lily. Please–” She bared her teeth, revealing fangs. Lily smiled, a feral smile that made James shiver to the core. Holborn shrieked. Stumbling he brought the pistol to her midsection. James, seeing what was about to happen, lunged forward, sending her sprawling to the ground. A searing pain struck his side. I’ve been shot. “No,” she cried. Pale faced, Holborn staggered backwards. James felt light headed as his knees gave way from under him. Strong arms gripped him as her familiar scent filled his nostrils. “Lily,” he murmured. He heard a shout. “Stop there sir or I will have to fire.” The shouting began to fade as did the pain in his side. A sense of peace began to envelop him. “James?” Somewhere in the distance he heard Lily but could not open his mouth to answer. He didn’t want to go back. The incessant tugging persisted. Slowly the smell of damp earth began to fade and as much as he fought to remain in this blissful state the words, James, James, persisted. Go away he wanted to say, but couldn’t move his lips.

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The rocking sensation ceased thank goodness. Maybe he would be left alone now. “He’s in a terrible way, Lily.” Who was that? Lyon? Sobbing followed. “It’s my fault.” “I take the blame too but it’s not going to bring him back. Do it now and save him.” “He’ll become a vampire.” Vampire. He recalled someone he knew being a vampire. Lily. Yes, that was who. “Or die otherwise. Are you going to let that happen? If so, make it quick. He’ll be going into shock soon.” He felt a hand grip his. “James. Do you want to be like me?” Was she talking to me? Her words were becoming softer and softer as called his name again. Did he want to join her in eternity? “There will be no more pain.” There isn’t any now. Now, if only they’d go away and leave him be. Warm breath brushed his cheeks. “Maybe this will help you.” Memories, of a girl he loved so long ago, reappeared. The vision changed and he was her. How she had loved him sent him into a spin. Another moment appeared to him, one he’d not seen before. Forced out of her home, she had wandered the streets carrying clothes and a few valuables in a bid to sell them. She had even returned to his home to seek him out but he was no longer there. Then night came, and the scene of a dirty squalid street or a man fucking a woman amongst the debris, while his beloved looked on. Shame filled him. Lyon had saved her when he had refused to do so. The visions of the past faded into a blur of pain. The girl he loved had become a vampire due to his rejection of her. “James. Please don’t leave me again.” The fog began to lift as her face came into her view. Pain returned, not so the anguish in her eyes as tears streamed down her cheeks. He fought to keep her in focus. “I…” “You will die if you don’t. Let me save you.” To die or be damned and live forever. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered. “Don’t abandon me again, please.” Blood rose from his throat forcing him to cough. He really was going to die.

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Lyon shook his head. “He’ll not do it.” With each passing breath she began to fade. He could choose oblivion as it should be or ...be with her forever. Did he love her enough to trust her in aiding him if he chose to be one of the undead? She lowered her lashes. “I can’t force you.” He tried to move his hand. Nothing happened. The cold began to return. A few more breaths and he’d be gone, forever. Forever apart from, or with her. What was the difference? With all his breath he whispered. “Do it.” Vitality filled him as did an increasing awareness of where he was. Opening his eyes the sky appeared as a luminous wonder above him. His hearing became more acute as did all his senses. The pain fled leaving a feeling of indescribable bliss. Lily lifted his head from his neck. A brush of her fingers and the wound closed. All this he could feel acutely. Another knelt beside him. He sensed Lyon’s presence as a guiding light. “We don’t change mortals lightly my friend.” Extending his hand he helped James to stand. The light in the cemetery seemed different. He looked down at the dark stain that had seeped through his waistcoat. “I was shot.” He looked about. The policemen were gone as was the Inspector. “Where is everybody?” “Holborn’s been taken away by the police. Francis accompanied them. The remainder,” he said, barely containing a grin, “were encouraged to wander further down the road. I’m afraid they’ll be back shortly so don’t plan on staying.” James had no plans of staying anywhere in London. “We’ll return to my country manor.” Lily smiled up at him. “It will be an ideal place for you to stay until you become accustomed to the changes.” For now, he felt light headed and wonderful. “I’m going. Goodbye James. I’m sure we’ll meet again.” After embracing Lily, Lyon flew off, leaving James to follow his path until he disappeared into the night sky. “You’ll be able to do that one day, amongst other things.” The implications of what she was saying began to sink in. “I’m really a vampire aren’t I.”

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She nodded. “You’ll suffer bloodlust, accidents, and an occasional accusation of murder.” Her lips brushed his, sending a searing need through his body. “The sex will more than compensate.” She grabbed his hands. “Let’s go.” “How?” “I can carry you home.” “Where Hubert is. Is that a good idea? I’m not the same now.” “No. Your country residence.” “Oh. I see.” She slid her arms around his waist. “We should go.” “Not yet.” He needed time to adjust. For a start, why had the pain gone? A gentle caress swept his mind. “You want to see if you are still wounded?” “Yes.” She unbuttoned his jacket, then his vest. Lifting his shirt she smiled. He followed her gaze. The wound where the bullet had gone was completely healed. “Where’s the bullet?” “It fell from your body after I changed you.” “You mean my body pushed the bullet out?” “It’s a close enough answer.” That was unbelievable. “Can anything kill …us?” “Some things can.” She tucked his shirt back in. “We’ll have plenty of time to discuss what.” She looked about. “May I suggest we leave? The policemen will be returning soon.” “I thought I’d lost you.” He cupped her cheek. “You have me for eternity.” Eternity. He tried to imagine it, and couldn’t. “It will take time James and I will be here for you, as long as you want me.”

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Epilogue

The Evening standard March 28 1849. What happens to a man when obsession clouds one’s judgment –by Francis Wynn. That happened to Inspector Holborn in Kensal Green Cemetery last night when he attempted to murder a woman he has pursued for five years. The woman, Lily Beaumont was cleared of a crime of murder five yeas ago, a crime that Inspector Holborn refused to admit defeat to. Doctor Sloane, who has had concerns about the reporting of the murders, admitted Holborn’s sanity to be questionable when it became clear he wanted to convict Lily Beaumont. “When a man resorts to falsifying reports to accuse an innocent woman of a crime she didn’t commit. Holborn revealed to me what sort of man he really was,” Doctor Sloane said. In another bizarre twist to this case, James Savage, who was shot by Holborn instead, has disappeared. When the police attended the scene, aside from some blood on the ground, no trace of said James Savage could be found. With guarded gates, it’s a mystery how a man could simply disappear. Was he murdered at all? Unfortunately we will never know. We do know that Holborn, who could not be charged for murder, has been taken off the case. One suspects he will retire to country life.

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