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“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.”

16

The Throne Room

“How will we find Jade?” Ophelia turned to Lady Brookshire. Three maids were also in the elegant dressing room off Lady Brookshire’s bedchamber, waiting to help Ophelia hurriedly into clothing. The gown she was to borrow was simple and beautiful, but still, she protested, “Why do we not wear trousers and shirts and boots? It would make everything much easier.”

Lady Brookshire tapped her chin. “An excellent idea. Much better for an attack on a dangerous vampire queen.” Her ladyship commanded gently to the two young maids, “Raid the wardrobes of my husband and Mr. de Wynter and bring us some of their clothes.” To her lady’s maid, she said, “Robbins, you will stay and will undress me.”

Ophelia felt a spurt of panic. “My lady, I was just joking. We shouldn’t—”

“It will not take me long.” Indeed, Lady Brookshire had her dress undone and removed in moments. The other maids bustled in with trousers and white shirts draped over their arms.

Ophelia hated every moment it took to dress, but at least it was quick to pull on a shirt and trousers. At first she tried to wear her shift for modesty, then abandoned the idea, and pulled off her muslin underclothes. Her breasts were free beneath the shirt, jiggling as she moved, and there was nothing between her trousers and her privates.

But she felt ready for adventure. Even her feminine clothes, she realized, had felt like a prison.