The Bleeding Dusk (The Gardella Vampire Chronicles #3)

The Bleeding Dusk (The Gardella Vampire Chronicles #3) Page 22

“Stop,” squealed Winnie, releasing her friend’s gown to clap her hands over her ears. “I don’t know why we came to this dark, horrible place anyway. And why ever did we sneak away from that nice Mr. Zavier?”

Melly’s hand on the duchess’s plump arm nearly sent her friend through the cobwebbed ceiling, but her strident voice was sharp enough to penetrate the duchess’s hysterics. “You’re making a cake of yourself, Winnie. Do cease your wailing. And it was your idea to send Mr. Zavier for drinks whilst we sneaked away to start on this treasure hunt. Now, Nilly, let me look at that map. And do stop prattling about vampires. I don’t know why we’re letting you be in the lead.”

Lady Melisande pushed her way past her hysterical friend, who had twisted about to grab onto Melly’s arm and was now clinging to her like a good corset.

“I don’t hear anyone else,” whispered the cowering duchess fearfully. “We must be far away from the rest of the people. Oh, why did we come? We’ll be found tomorrow with our throats torn open and three big Xs marked on our snowy white bosoms.”

Melly had snatched the map, which was really nothing more than a crude drawing of the villa’s floor plan. She struggled to aim it at the illumination of Nilly’s candle, all without catching the large, curling paper on fire. “How badly have you lost us?”

“They won’t tear our throats open,” Nilly remonstrated the duchess, ignoring Lady Melly’s question. “Vampires don’t do that unless you fight them, or unless they are very angry. They just bite your chest or your shoulder and drink your blood.”

Winnie’s hands moved up to cover her alarmingly bare throat, her small eyes goggling as wide as they could, darting about as if to see the lurking vampires before they leaped. “But—”

“My cousin’s wife’s sister’s friend’s mother was bitten by a vampire,” Nilly continued, peering into the darkness ahead of them. “She said it hardly hurt at all…and that it was rather pleasant, in some ways.”

“I don’t see how big fangs cutting into my neck would be almost pleasant,” Winnie replied fearfully, bumping into a low table. “I do believe I should faint dead away so that I wouldn’t feel a thing.”

“May I help you ladies?” came a genteel voice.

All three heads snapped toward the man, who’d suddenly appeared from…well, it was unclear from whence he’d appeared.

Winnie gasped and squeezed Lady Melly’s arm so hard the other woman gasped too. “Wh-wh-wh—” was all she could manage.

“Do not be frightened,” he said, stepping closer, smiling gently, his hand outstretched as if to put off their fears. He wasn’t a young man, but appeared to be of an age with them. He seemed harmless enough, dressed in dusty evening clothes and carrying his own candle. A cobweb clung to his sleeve, suggesting that he, too, had been digging his way through the house in search of the treasure. The man wasn’t particularly handsome, but despite his trim mustache and beard—likely grown to make up for the lack of hair on his head—his face was pleasant. He certainly didn’t look like he was about to sprout fangs and leap upon them.

“We’re not frightened,” Melly said in a strangled voice, trying to free herself from Winnie’s death grip. “We just stopped to look at the map. Are you on the treasure hunt?”

“Of course. Perhaps I can assist you? Did you wish to go back to the parlor, where everyone else is waiting?”

“Has everyone returned to the parlor already? Has the treasure been found?” Winnie forgot her nervousness and stepped toward him, disappointment oozing from every pore.

Before he could answer they were interrupted by a loud sound, as if an altercation was happening, perhaps a short distance away. “What is that noise? Are they celebrating the treasure being found?” Winnie demanded.

“No, no, I do not believe so,” the bald man replied, offering an arm to Melly. “It’s too early for that. Please, let me be of assistance. If you would come with me, I shall take you ladies on your way.”

Melly started off with him in the direction he indicated, followed by Nilly and Winnie.

“But what if he’s a vampire?” Winnie squeaked softly to Nilly. “He could turn into a bat at any moment and swoop down over us and get caught in our hair.”

“If he is, he’s likely going to take us somewhere and ravish us,” Lady Petronilla replied, her voice pitched nervously. “I wonder if it will be in a bedchamber, or if he’ll take us to his coffin and chain two of us up inside while he bites the other one?”

Lady Winifred stumbled. “Ravish? Chains? Coffin? Oh, how could I be so foolish as to leave my cross at home!”

“I shall offer him to take me first,” Nilly said bravely. “Then perhaps there will be a chance for you and Melly to escape whilst he is ravishing me.”

“A stake. Perhaps I can find something to use as a stake. It must be wooden, mustn’t it?”

“Oh, dear! But he cannot be a vampire,” Nilly suddenly said.

Nearly fainting in relief, Winnie turned to look at her companion. “No? But are you certain?”

“See—he carries a candle. Of course, everyone knows that vampires can see in the dark. Why should he need a candle? And he isn’t nearly handsome enough,” she added. “Not tall enough either, I venture to say.”

“Oh…yes, not tall enough. And he doesn’t need a candle. Indeed, I am so relieved you are such an expert about vampires, Nilly,” the duchess said, picking up her stride and jouncing along merrily now.

Lady Petronilla didn’t appear to be quite as relieved as her friend. “But, of course, I could be wrong. After all, I never have met a vampire,” she added. Perhaps there was even a bit of wistfulness in her voice.

“We must have gotten very confused,” Lady Melisande was saying to their guide, her voice carrying back to her two companions. “I don’t recall walking this way at all.”

The gentleman’s soft laugh was easy and full of humor at the ladies’ confusion. “No, indeed, madam. This is the way to the parlor. Unless you wish to see where I think the treasure is hidden.”

“Treasure?” Lady Winifred bounded forward to walk on the other side of their guide. “Do you know where it is hidden?”

He smiled ruefully. “I didn’t mean to—ah, you have caught me out, madam. I shall take you, if you vow not to tell a soul it was I who led you there.”

“But of course not! And if there is treasure to be found there, you can rest assured we shall share it with you, kind sir,” Winnie soothed him. “Besides, it is best to bring us there posthaste rather than wait until after you have taken us to the parlor and then come back…for someone else might have found our treasure before you return. And then what a fine fettle we’d be in.”

“Indeed. Your logic, though intricate, is quite—er. If I am to take you there, then we must turn on this hallway here,” he said, ushering them along.

This passageway was smaller and closer than the other ones through which they’d traveled. It was spare of furnishings and decor, which would imply that the area the ladies now traversed was part of the servants’ quarters.

Winnie noticed this and thought it was a brilliant deduction. “Of course! The treasure should be hidden in the back of the villa, where no one ever goes.” Forgetting, of course, that the servants who ran the household would have quite outnumbered the residents of the villa.

Nilly had begun to lag behind her two friends, who’d placed the gentleman guide betwixt them. So when she felt a hand on her shoulder, her soft gasp of surprise was lost in the treasure-hunting conversation ahead.

She turned and found herself facing a tall man with black hair and fair skin, dressed like a gentleman on his way to the theater. He smiled, and she saw the glint of very white teeth behind his lips.

His eyes glowed red.

Nilly opened her mouth to scream, then thought better of it. Instead she closed her eyes and turned her head away demurely, fully aware that between her coiled-up hair and the low cut of her gown, there was quite a lot of skin exposed. Holding her breath, she let the candle fall and heard it roll away on the wood floor.

Her skin prickled as she waited, her veins fairly leaping, her heart trammeling in her flat bosom. Then the air shifted, and she heard something that sounded like a shove, and then a faint little pop followed by a soft poof.

And then a very smooth, mellow voice said, “Are you quite all right, madam?”

Nilly’s eyes flew open. The man standing in front of her was no longer dark haired and pale visaged; nor did he have glowing red eyes.

He was just as handsome, but in a golden sort of way, with curling tawny hair and skin that glowed like toffee in the light of the candle he held. He was looking at her with one cocked eyebrow and a humorous twist to his sensual mouth.

“I…you…he…”

“He is gone, and you are quite safe, madam. Or should I say mademoiselle?” He gave her a melting smile. “But what is such a lovely woman like yourself doing—”

“Nilly!”

Her attention was drawn back along the dark, narrow hallway to the bustling of gowns and the rustling of paper heralding the approach of her two friends, their gentleman guide nowhere in sight.

“Oh!” wailed Nilly, her disappointment firmly sinking in.

“Why are you dawdling?” demanded Melly. “As we’ve found, it’s much too easy to get lost in this vast house.”

“And you’re keeping us from finding the treasure,” the duchess informed her. “I vow, if we get there too late because of your mooning about, I shall never forgive you, Petronilla.”

“Now come along. Our lovely gentleman friend is waiting,” Melly added, pointing down the hall into the darkness.

“Where is your candle? Now we shall have only one light, and you know how weak my eyes are in the darkness,” said Winnie. “I vow I cannot see past my own fingers even in my own bedchamber at night unless Rudgers leaves the fire blazing.”