Blood Curse

15 Lost

Raven leapt to the side. A crossbow bolt narrowly missed his chest.

Damned Royal Society.

He stood in the shadowy, mucky mews that ran behind the yard of his town house. Fixated on returning to Ophelia, he had not noticed the two men positioned in the mews, until they’d jumped out and starting firing at him with crossbows.

“I don’t have time for this,” he roared. He shifted shape and flew at them, darting from side to side to avoid the hurtling arrows. Panic made the men clumsy. They messed up their loading, and he had his chance.

But instead of killing them, he transformed back into human form and threw one down the mews. The slayer landed on his arse, scrambled to his feet, and ran away. Raven knocked the other unconscious.

With that, he jumped up onto the tall fence that separated his small yard from the mews and dropped over the side.

Landing softly on the grass, he called in his thoughts to Guidon. Jade has my sister and will kill her unless I take Ophelia’s power. Is there a way I can fool Jade, make her believe I took Ophelia’s power when I didn’t? Make it look like I have the power to kill people with just my touch?

You could tell Lady Ophelia the truth, Guidon answered. About her brother.

So you know I remembered that. Damn it, are you reading my thoughts?

Of course not, my lord. It is in my records of the vampire world. I knew you would remember it.

I don’t want her to know the truth, Raven growled. She will hate me.

Her brother was an evil being. Jade only told you part of the truth. If Ophelia knew—

He was her brother, Raven snapped, his tone harsh, filled with anger. I don’t believe she will forgive me. Can’t you give me a spell that would make Jade think I took her power?

You can take her power, Ravenhunt. I have researched through many ancient books, and I believe Ophelia will not be hurt. Since you will have betrayed her love, you will pay the price. Ophelia will not be hurt, but you will die.

Do I have enough time to take the power to Jade, or do I die right away?

You will have enough time.

Ophelia met him in the foyer, wearing the thick robe he’d acquired for her. It hung open, giving a glimpse of her sweetly rounded breasts, her slim waist, the enticingly soft and beautiful golden curls between her legs.

“Where did you go?” she asked. “We only had four orgasms and it wasn’t enough. I am ready to try for the fifth.”

He grinned. The sweetness of her serious expression touched his heart. He could lie about where he had gone, but he had to prove he loved her by giving the truth. “I went to see my sister. I never let her see me, but I like to know she is safe.”

“Is she?”

Now he had to lie—lie by omission. “Yes, she is safe.” For now, she was. For now, Frederica would not be harmed, as long as Jade thought he would take Ophelia’s power.

Ophelia suddenly gave a soft cry and flung herself against his chest, hugging him tight.

She needed touch. He had to remember that. He had to give her all the touching he could before he was destroyed.

“Guidon spoke to me.” She tipped her face up and met his gaze.

“He did?” Why in Hades had Guidon done that?

“He told me that it was still too dangerous to take my power—that I would be safe, but you would be killed. I will not do it. I will not let that happen.”

He cupped her chin and lowered to her mouth. It had been years since he’d had love like this—

No, he had never had love like this. Not from his fiancée. Now, he knew what love was.

Ophelia was willing to sacrifice for him. That was love.

But he intended to sacrifice himself for her. Now that he knew she would be safe. He brushed his lips against hers. “I’ve changed,” he said softly. “You’ve changed me. I can never take another mortal life. But I’m a vampire, and I am one who is cursed to kill. I’m not one of the gentle ones who can drink his blood from crystal glasses and who can behave like a human. I’m a monster. Before, I didn’t care. Now I do. Let me take your power and be destroyed, Ophelia.”

“I can’t do it. I love you too much.”

He gripped her arms. “You are in danger if you do not. Let me have this. One chance to make amends for the things I have done as a vampire. Let me make love to you, and save you, then die having done one noble thing in my life. There is a secret in my past, and it is a terrible one. It would make you hate me, so your love cannot save me.”

He told her about the passage in Guidon’s book. That it meant their love had to be proven that it could withstand the harshest tests. He did not believe it would. But from what Guidon had told her, Raven alone would pay the price for that.

“I—I would be killing you, and I can’t bear to live with that.” Tears leapt into her eyes.

He hated himself for doing this to her . . .then he saw the answer. “You aren’t killing me, angel. This is something I’m going to do to myself.”

He pushed her back, forcing her to stumble backward until the foyer wall stopped them. Using the bulk of his body, he pressed against her, pinning her in place. Slanting his mouth over hers, he teased and suckled and played with her mouth, certain he could arouse her, even while he held her captive.

His tongue tangled with hers, and she breathed hard into his mouth.

Then her foot, in a slipper, slammed into his shin.

She was fighting him.

Instead of stopping, he kissed a line of teasing sensation down her neck. She gave a soft gasp of surrender. Down he kissed, pushing aside her robe with his jaw. He licked her nipples, making her sob.

He pushed open her robe completely, pressed his groin heavily against her.

“No!” she gasped. “Stop, please stop. Don’t force me to do this.”

His cock throbbed, his heart ached, but inside, a voice demanded that he do this. He could save her and save his sister, and he would be saving her heartbreak.

She would hate him for this.

Angrily, he tore open the placket of his trousers. He stroked her quim, even as she tried to escape him. Dexterous caresses of his fingers made her wet, but he knew she didn’t want this.

“Let me free you,” he growled. He sank inside her, his cock sliding in.

Heat gripped him, making him cry out with pleasure.

“No,” she cried. “I can’t hurt you. I can’t.”

“This is all on me,” he muttered. He drove his cock into her, slid his finger down to stroke her clit with his every thrust, and he sucked her nipple.

The assault of sensation was too much. He knew she didn’t want to come, but she couldn’t help it.

“Oh!” she gasped. Her hips suddenly rocked against him wildly. The climax took her, and tears streamed down her face as her body moved with her orgasm.

Did he have to give her five in a row? Or was this one soon enough after the other four? He had to try now. The words to the incantation were hazy in his mind. He couldn’t forget them now, damn it. Fighting to bring them back, Raven whispered them softly. They were Latin, and translated to:

I pledge myself forever to you, my heart to your heart, my life with yours,

And as yours, I take from you the burden placed there, the dark power, the pain you have borne,

Give me your power; give it to me through love,

Let me take your black burden from you, let me give you this gift of my deepest love,

Freedom.

Felie lifted her head, and he moved back from her to let her breathe. Raven stared into her wide blue eyes, searching for change.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her body slumped back against the wall. Bonelessly she began to fall, and he caught her in his arms. He scooped her up as her body began to shake.

Her skin burned as if flames roared over her body. Something touched her, and Ophelia screamed. Her eyes were wide open, but she could not see.

She reached out, her hands like claws. She had to fight free of this awful pain.

A sudden violent pain exploded in her chest. Her heart must have burst—that was what it felt like. A brilliant white light flashed in front of her eyes. All she could see were whirling silver stars.

“Ophelia?” Someone called to her. Her mother? She had not seen her mother for years. She reached out her hands toward the tall woman who wore white, and whose golden hair tumbled free around her. She wanted to hug Mama . . .

She flew into her mother’s embrace. Mama pulled her close, her skin smelling of vanilla, her hair of roses. Ophelia pressed her cheek to her mother’s bosom and cried.

Why was she crying?

She had not been able to hold her mother for years. This was her only chance—

“Ophelia.”

She forced her eyes open. Raven bent over her, and she lay on the floor.

“I can’t touch you,” he growled. “I’m so sorry. I want to touch you, but I can’t. I could hurt you.”

“Oh my God, my power is gone.” The awful pain was gone, leaving her numb. “I’m free now,” she croaked. “My power is gone. It must be. But you are going to die. Raven—”

“It was my choice,” he growled.

Raven hungered to give her one last kiss, but he could not. They no longer shared the power, so if he touched her, he could kill her.

He had done it. He had taken her power, forced her to climax against her will, and she would hate him forever. She didn’t know that he had been commanded to kill her brother years ago, but she did not need to. She hated him and his destruction was guaranteed.

Her sobs broke Raven’s heart. They hurt so much he felt as if he actually had a soul.

Ophelia had loved finding her pleasure. When they made love, she was so sweet and innocent as she had explored him. Everything she’d done to him had been amazing, and he had ruined it. By forcing her, he’d taken something beautiful for her and made it ugly. She would never forget this. Never forgive him.

Raven wanted to say he was sorry, but it was wrong to spout those words as if they made a difference. It would be a pitiful attempt to plead with her to not hate him so much.

He left her. To go to Jade’s home, give up the power, and die.

Lady Ophelia, it is Guidon. I must tell you why Ravenhunt took your power against your will. It was to save his sister. She is a prisoner of Queen Jade, and she will be killed if Ravenhunt does not give Jade your power by midnight tonight. That is why he hurt you.

Ophelia jerked awake.

Footsteps thundered in the hallway, slamming down on the floorboards with a force that spoke of anger. It had to be Raven. He was running back to her?

Rubbing her head, Ophelia pushed up from her bed . . . how had she gotten into bed? Raven had left her in the foyer. What had happened?

Then she remembered. She had come up to her room. She had meant to dress and chase him. But that was the last thing she could recall. She must have collapsed.

Ophelia slid her arms into her thick robe, tied the belt around her waist.

He hadn’t reached her room yet, but the slap of boot soles had stopped. He was not running anymore. But he was still coming to her, and she didn’t know what to do.

She hurt all over from the way he had pressed her against the wall and had forced her to climax by thrusting in her, stroking her clit, and sucking her nipples. She had struggled against him, and it left her feeling sore everywhere. Losing her power to him had exhausted her.

She hadn’t wanted Raven to take her power. She knew he was going to be destroyed—he had told her there was a secret in his past, something that would make her hate him. He had told her about the passage in Guidon’s book, about how they must prove their love could withstand the harshest tests. He did not believe it would, so her love couldn’t save him.

She had refused to hurt him. He’d forced himself on her.

Tears leaked to her cheeks again, and she brushed them away. She felt dead inside. She’d expected to feel happy when her power was gone. But that hardly mattered now, when she was going to lose Ravenhunt forever.

Logic told her she should not forgive Raven for forcing sex on her, for forcing her to harm him. Since the beginning, when he’d kidnapped her, this had been about what he wanted. But she believed Guidon’s words, the ones he had just spoken through her thoughts, were true.

Everything Raven had done was to protect his sister. She remembered the pain in his silvery eyes as he’d told her he had let his sister believe him dead. It hurt him that he could never be with his sister. Obviously he dearly loved the girl.

No matter what Raven had done to her, she didn’t hate him. How could she hate a man who was willing to sacrifice himself for a beloved sister? There was no hate in her heart and soul. She loved him deeply.

The footsteps sounded again. “Ophelia? Are you here?”

It wasn’t Ravenhunt. For moments she was utterly dazed. Memories flooded to her with the voice . . .

She remembered laughter as two young children ran to the plum orchard at their country home and gorged on tart plums until their chins were sticky with juice. Then playing ring-around-the-rosies until one collapsed and was sick, and the other was the winner, or playing hide-and-seek in the enormous gallery by hiding behind their father’s collection of Grecian statues.

“Harry.” Her voice was a mere whisper. She was too stunned to speak with force.

“It’s your brother, Harry. Ophelia—” His voice broke, the voice she knew so well from her past, that she’d thought she would never hear again. Then Harry shouted, “Are you all right?”

She pushed off the bed, and made her sore legs take her to the door. Her brother was here. It should have been impossible, but it wasn’t. Ophelia leaned out the door, and called, “Harry, I’m here.”

A tall, broad-shouldered, blond man emerged from a bedchamber into the hall. Moonlight alone lit the space. The fire in her room had died out, and she had snuffed the candles after Raven had left. She had wanted to be in the dark.

Then she saw her brother’s face, just as he yelled joyously, “Ophelia!”

His long strides brought him to her in two heartbeats, and his broad, white smile was almost blinding as he grinned with delight. Harry pulled her into his arms. Hugged her so tight, she couldn’t breathe as she was pressed into his hard chest.

Years and years had gone by since she had last seen him, before she’d gone to Darkwell’s. How much bigger he’d grown. As a boy, he’d been a display of prominent ribs, bony shoulders, and skinny arms. Now he was a man and a powerfully built one.

Her younger brother was just a bit smaller than Ravenhunt.

Tears of happiness choked her as she embraced her brother. She could hug him. There was so much the same about him. Dark gold curls fell across his brow and hugged the base of his neck. She could never forget his large blue eyes. Even when he’d been naughty as a child, Harry could use his huge eyes to make anyone forgive him.

Her heart ached. Harry and she had been high-spirited friends, until her power had come and she had been locked away. Harry was almost all she had left. She had lost her parents and her eldest brother, Simon. Simon had been devilish, but not like Harry. Mean-spirited and cruel, her other brother had always been filled with anger.

But they were all gone. After she had gone to Mrs. Darkwell’s, Mama and Father had been attacked by thieves on the street and killed. Then, a few years later, the same thing had happened to Simon. Harry had suddenly become the head of the family, taking care of their youngest sister, Lydia. She knew Lydia was now a healthy fifteen.

But she knew what had really happened. She had touched all of them, and her power must have eventually caused them to die. The other stories were probably lies to hide the truth. She had stolen her family away from Harry and Lydia.

“You’re alive, Ophelia. I couldn’t believe it was true.” Harry’s eyes were no longer the twinkling, naughty eyes of a carefree boy. They were a man’s eyes, older, more shadowed, and they were filled with tears. “I didn’t dare hope—” Harry laughed hoarsely. “I did, I guess. I ran in here to find you. Praying it would be true.”

She didn’t have to pull away from him.

“They told us that you were killed by a vampire,” Harry mumbled.

Ophelia lifted from his chest. “That was what they told you? I knew you had been told I had died, but never how.”

Now he stared at her with troubled blue eyes. “Who told you this? That damned vampire? Has he kept you with him all this time?” Harry stepped back, his eyes filled with horror. “Did he turn you? Is that why he’s kept you for all these years?”

“He? Goodness, do you mean Ravenhunt?”

“I mean a black-haired man with black eyes and no soul. He was there, at Ravenhunt House.”

Her brother had encountered Raven. But she must reassure him. “I am not a vampire. I am perfectly—” Her voice broke, but she managed to say it. “Normal.” She could only say that word because of Raven.

Then she thought of more questions. “Why were you at Ravenhunt’s home? How did you know to find me here?”

“I followed him here. He walked through the streets of London, as confident as you please. I waited until I saw him leave—this place is like a fortress, and it took me hours to find a way in.” Harry put his hands on her shoulders and peered deeply into her eyes. “Have you been with the monster all these years?”

She flinched. She had been a monster. “I haven’t been with him, but I was a prisoner. I went to live with a woman who kept me locked up so I could not hurt anyone. I had a power that—” Her brother knew nothing about this. How could he believe her? He would think her completely mad.

“I am a vampire slayer, Ophelia.” Harry’s gaze held hers, filled with concern. “I have seen the monsters that really live in London. There is nothing you can tell me that would stun me.”

“A vampire slayer? Oh goodness, are you a member of the Royal Society?”

Her brother frowned. “You know of them?”

“From Ravenhunt. He’s been protecting me from them.” There was so much to explain, and she didn’t have time. Raven had not come back. He was going to hand over her power and let himself be destroyed. “The power I had—the Royal Society was going to kill me to try to get it from me. Please, Harry, tell me you are not one of them.”

Her brother hugged her. She heard a sob catch in his throat. “Dear God, I would never hurt you. I am a member of the Society, but work with good men. Some are vampires—the Earl of Brookshire is one. These are vampires who live among mortals without hurting them. Have learned to control how they take blood and harm no one. The Society hunts the rogue vampires, the dangerous ones.”

He spoke with such pride. “The Society is not all good,” she insisted. “There are members of the Royal Society who are not noble.”

Ophelia quickly blurted out what she’d learned while a prisoner: some men of the Society did not trust the vampires in their ranks and wanted to destroy them. She told her brother in a speedy, garbled rush of words about her power and what those men had tried to do to her. Breathlessly, she finished, “They are still out there. They are the truly dangerous ones.”

Her brother looked down at his hands, where they touched her. She knew what he feared.

“My power is gone. Ravenhunt took it from me.” She blushed fiercely. She couldn’t tell her brother how that had happened. “But if Raven turns the power over to the vampire queen, he will die. I have to go to him and somehow save him.”

“Why will he die, if you did not?”

“I was protected.” Love had protected her. Was there any way her love could protect Raven? Any way she could save him now?

She didn’t care what he’d done in his past. She forgave him for forcing her into sex, for taking her power against her will—he’d done it to save his sister. He had thought she would hate him. She could never hate him. “We have to hurry.”

Harry clasped her hand. “That vampire you were with—I heard him talking with a female vampire outside this house. The way he spoke . . . he’s the brother of the woman I love. She believes him dead, and she is under the guardianship of the new marquis. But her brother is not dead, he is a vampire—”

“You love Ravenhunt’s sister?” she broke in, astonished.

“Yes, his sister, Frederica. A vampire queen has taken her prisoner.”

“I know,” she said, hurriedly. “It is to force him to give up the power he took from me. We must find them both. But how?”

There was so much Ophelia wanted to know. Why had her brother become a vampire slayer? How had he found her? There was no time for questions. Nor to find out about her brother’s life for the years she had not been there.

Harry groaned. “I don’t know where to find the vampire queens. I don’t even know them all. There are several, all representing different clans of vampires, and they either work together, or they war with each other. This is one I do not know, but I did hear the vampire Ravenhunt use the name Jade. We have to go to men I know. Men I work with.”

He tried to pull her to get her moving. She resisted.

“I am sorry,” her brother said quickly. “You are in your nightgown. But we do not have time for you to dress. We’ll put a cloak over you, get you to Lady Brookshire’s, and she will look after you.”

“Lady Brookshire?”

“She is also a member of the Royal Society. She is a vampire, like her husband, but she is one who can be trusted.”

Ophelia felt like Ravenhunt: racing to the rescue without wearing clothes. Harry thought she wore a nightgown, but that wasn’t true. She was naked beneath the robe.

“I had my carriage follow behind me when I followed this Ravenhunt from Frederica’s house.” Harry frowned. “The Earl of Brookshire is a vampire. Does this mean—hell, would this mean Ravenhunt could pretend he was still alive and reclaim the title? Could he be head of Frederica’s home? I tried to slay him—”

“Harry, we can worry about this later.” Then she grasped his arm. “You didn’t hurt him, did you?”

“No.”

A shiver went down her back. He’d said that ruefully.

“Come on, we must rescue them.” But would her brother, a vampire slayer, rescue Ravenhunt? Or would he want to kill Ravenhunt?

No, Harry couldn’t kill the brother of the woman he loved. No man would do such a terrible thing.

Ophelia followed Harry into the foyer of the Earl of Brookshire’s residence. Over her belted robe, she had on her black cloak, the one borrowed from Ravenhunt. She had stuck her feet into light shoes so she did not have to waste time with boots.

Her brother insisted she had nothing to fear from Brookshire. After all, he was a vampire.

Still, she was ready to run—or defend herself—as two men emerged from one of the gilt-trimmed doors that led to the foyer. Her time with Raven had given her courage.

She had explained everything to Harry: about Ravenhunt kidnapping her, protecting her, saving her life, then being willing to die to take her power and give her a normal life.

The Earl of Brookshire stalked toward her, accompanied by another blond gentleman who looked so much like him, they had to be brothers. An elegant auburn-haired lady hurried down the stairs, holding up the hem of her green silk gown. A young girl pursued her, waist-length golden-red curls bouncing.

Lady Brookshire stopped midway down, staring at Ophelia with wide green eyes. Her gaze went to Harry, lingering there for moments. A dazzling smile illuminated her face. She reached out with a pale, elegant hand, and drew the child to her side, stroking the girl’s small shoulder.

“Goodness, Darlington, you have found your sister. This is remarkable. And wonderful!”

Ophelia had seen female vampires at Mrs. Darkwell’s house. Lady Brookshire was one of the most beautiful ones she’d ever seen. Her pale skin glowed, almost like starlight. Her lips were full and red, her hair a rich auburn that gleamed like flame. She looked so friendly Ophelia felt instantly she could trust Lady Brookshire.

“I just rescued Ophelia from the house of a vampire—” Harry broke off and his cheeks went red. “My apologies, Lady Brookshire, I meant a vampire who is not part of the Royal Society. He is a dangerous predator. It turns out that my fiancée did not lose her brother in battle. He was turned by Queen Jade.”

“This sounds complicated.” Lady Brookshire came down the stairs and approached Ophelia. She clasped Ophelia’s hand. “I believe I see a robe underneath your cloak, and I suspect you have run away from somewhere in your nightclothes.”

“Well . . .” Her cheeks heated as swiftly as her brother’s. “That is sort of what happened. I don’t have any clothes.”

“I have to rescue my fiancée,” Harry declared. “Will you allow Ophelia to stay here, where she will be safe? There are men of the Royal Society who have tried to hurt her.”

“What is this?” Brookshire demanded. “Men of the Royal Society?”

“I don’t have time to explain, Brookshire. I have to get to Frederica. Queen Jade has taken Ravenhunt’s sister prisoner. They are threatening to kill her.”

“This is an attack on you?” Brookshire demanded of Harry.

“No,” Ophelia cried. “It is all because of me. I had a power—a wretched power that kills people—and others want it. A vampire queen wants it. Someone hired Mr. Ravenhunt to kidnap me to take my power for them. I don’t know who, but I think it was men of your Royal Society. But now the queen has taken Ravenhunt’s sister as a hostage to ensure she gets the power.”

She looked at them all. They must think her mad. “There’s so much to explain, but there isn’t time. I need to dress. Ravenhunt is going to sacrifice himself for his sister. He wants to do it, but I don’t want to let him. I want to save him, but I need to have clothes. I need to go with you, Harry, to the vampire queens.”

“Which queen is it?” the second blond man asked.

“That is my husband’s brother, Mr. Sebastian de Wynter,” Lady Brookshire explained. “Now we must move quickly. You come with me, Lady Ophelia, and I will find you clothing. The men can determine which queen this is and how to carry out a rescue.”

Lady Brookshire spoke soothingly, and she put her hand on Ophelia’s back and guided her toward the stairs. But Ophelia balked. There was one logical reason they were leaving the men to discuss things—to arrange for her to be left behind.

“I must go, too,” Ophelia cried. “No one else would try to save Ravenhunt.” And Ravenhunt would be the least likely to try to save himself.

“Of course, you will go.” Lady Brookshire looked up and locked gazes with her husband.

“It’s too dangerous,” Harry insisted.

“It would be wiser for her to stay here,” Brookshire began.

“You know what women are like, my dear husband,” her ladyship said softly. “We will go, so there is no point trying to sneak away. You will all be in grave danger if you do.”

“From Jade?” Harry asked, frowning.

“No, from your sister and me. You men will need weapons, and you will need to plan. That will take several minutes. In that time, Ophelia, you can dress. Let us not waste more time.”

A few minutes. Ophelia did not know how long she had. Raven had left with the vampire queen just before her brother had found her. It had taken them less than half an hour to reach Brookshire’s house.

But what if she was already too late?

His sister was so lovely, so innocent, and she had fainted dead away the moment she saw him.

Raven paced in his cell, in the basement of the house used by Queen Jade. Rats scampered through the dark. He hissed at them, baring his fangs to scare them away.

He had let Jade lock him in here. He had followed Jade docilely down the stairs with his hands tied behind his back, though both knew he could have broken the bonds easily. With Frederica’s life in danger, he could not disobey. He could not try to escape.

Until he rid himself of the power, he couldn’t even touch Frederica.

Raven gripped the iron bars that fronted his cage. He had demanded of Jade one small favor—he had wanted to give up the power and rescue his sister, but he had not wanted his sister to see him after. Frederica was to be taken home, and he would ensure she never set eyes on him again. After all, once he turned the power over to Jade, he would be destroyed.

It was like a punch in the gut to be so close to his sister, and to know he had to turn his back on her forever. But she had been shocked so badly to discover he was alive. He could not break her heart completely to let her discover he was a vampire.

This was for her sake.

Jade was to tell his sister that she had imagined seeing him. That it had been a hallucination, brought on by fear, or by opium, or whatever lie Jade could concoct. Frederica was to be left to believe he was dead.

It would bring her peace. And he would be—finally—actually dead.

“You are troubled, my beautiful one.”

The sultry voice belonged to Jade. Deep in thought, he had not sensed her approach. The basement was pitch dark, but he saw her, of course. Jade wore a loose black gown made entirely of lace. She moved as if she heard an imaginary waltz, like a feather floating upon a breeze. When she wanted, she could make her every step sexually arousing. Using the walk Raven remembered, she approached his cell.

He wasn’t aroused. He hated this woman who had turned him.

When he’d been bleeding to death in the dirt in Ceylon, she had come to him. “You are too beautiful to die,” she’d said. As he lay there, feeling damned cold, and wondering why he’d ever thought hunting for battles was a solution, she’d drained his blood, taking him to the point of unconsciousness. Then she’d ripped a gash in her wrist and put it to his mouth.

The blood had slicked over his lips. He’d thought he wanted death. If he’d died then, he would have died honorably, and his soul would have gone to heaven.

But when Jade had told him he could live if he took her blood, he’d drunk it. He’d grasped at life. The joke was that he wasn’t alive, he was undead.

“What is wrong, Ravenhunt?” Jade demanded. “Don’t ignore me. Answer me.”

“Take this damned power now, so my sister can go free.”

“When I do that, you will die, my love.”

“I am not your love. I’m ready for destruction. I’m finally willing to do what I should have done years ago—die for someone I love.”

Jade ran her long-fingered hand suggestively up and down the bar of his cell. “It would be a shame to let you die. I could fall in love with you, but that would not spare you. Alas, it has to be her. Lady Ophelia, the frightened virgin.”

“She was anything but that,” he growled. “Ophelia has remarkable strength and courage. She was a virgin, but she is a sensual, beautiful, desirable woman.”

“You are in love with her. I spared your life and you never loved me. You were my lover, but I never touched your heart once. Yet this inexperienced girl has captivated you.”

“She is worthy of love. She’s also worthy of someone better than me.”

Jade smirked. “If she declares her love for you, you could be spared.”

“She won’t, so there’s no point in waiting.”

“Why won’t she? You have been making love to her for days now. Surely a handsome and virile gentleman such as you could capture her heart.”

“She doesn’t know the entire truth. I discovered it. You had me assassinate her older brother.”

Jade leaned closer to the bars. “Yes,” she purred. “Why do you think she has this power? The eldest brother and Ophelia were not children of the woman they believed was their mother. Their father, the earl, was in the thrall of a dangerous demon. He was obsessed with her, utterly in her power. This demon had him impregnate her, then she used her powers to transfer the babies to his wife, who bore them not knowing they were a demon’s children. Lady Ophelia’s brother was a demon who was developing the powers of a warlock. Soon, he turned to the dark arts. He had to be killed.”

“You had him killed because he was a threat to you?”

Jade inclined her head, her black hair rippling like water. “Of course. But he was also a threat to them. Had he been allowed to live, he would have destroyed his entire family. Evil was rich in his heart. He had attacked his younger brother once. Young Harold was spared only because the older brother’s powers were not strong then. He would have killed your beloved, Ophelia, but her power protected her. It was not just that he could not touch her. His magic could not work on her. Lady Ophelia should not hate you for what you had to do.”

“She will anyway,” Raven snarled. “She’s been alone for so long and has longed for love and family. I refuse to let her ever know that her eldest brother was evil. I don’t want her to know any of this. I want her to have happiness.”

“You think she will if you are dead?”

“She will,” he said. “She will fall in love with someone else. I’m ready, my queen.” Raven spat that out with sarcasm. “Take the power from me. It’s time I pay the price for my sins.”