My Lord Eternity
Page 4

There were no tears, no fainting, no traces of panic.
Instead, she grittily kicked at the men, using her hands and even her elbows to attempt to win her freedom.
This woman was different.
A sharp, unexpected curiosity flared into existence deep within Amadeus's icy soul.
As a true scholar, he was always intrigued by the unexpected. Especially when it came to mortals. It was not the heat of their passions, nor their tedious loves and hatreds. It was their simple mortality that lured his interest. Perhaps once he had retrieved the Medallion that she now wore about her neck he would allow Miss Kingly to become a part of his ongoing research.
She would certainly enhance the rather disappointing selection of humans he was currently examining.
Of course, first he must ensure that the Medallion was given to his grasp.
With a calculated motion he continued his path toward the struggling maiden. As he neared the first of his henchmen, he lifted the ebony cane he carried and hit him across the shoulders.
The man cringed, although he felt no pain through the spell of Inscrollment that Amadeus had cast upon him.
"Begone, you fiends," he dramatically commanded, sharply smacking the other two servants.
"The Watch is on its way, and you shall soon be lodged in Newgate."
At the word "Newgate," all three abruptly halted their assault and turned to stumble down the darkened street.
Perhaps a careful eye would have noted the manner they had so easily capitulated at his threat, or even the fumbling shuffle of their gait as they hurried away, but thankfully the maiden was far more concerned with pulling her shawl about her to conceal the large rip in the bodice of her gown.
"My dear, are you harmed?" he asked in soft tones that befitted the image of a modest, well-intentioned vicar. He had chosen the voice with the same care that he had altered his shape to a slender elderly gentleman who had lost most of his gray hair and possessed the features of a man dedicated to good works. Precisely the sort of gentleman a woman Miss Kingly would turn to in times of trouble.
And she was soon to have ample trouble.
"No." She smoothed the dark hair that had been tumbled from the tidy knot. "I am unhurt."
Amadeus made a mental note of her steady tone and cool composure. Oh, yes, she was worthy of experimentation, indeed.
Already he itched to bundle her back to his hidden lair and begin, but as she turned, the muted light from a nearby gin house shimmered against the golden amulet around her neck.
His breath caught.
Although only a portion of the original Medallion, he had no doubt that it contained a power more potent than any he had ever tasted before. And once made whole again, he and his fellow traitors would command the vampires. They would at last bend to his will.
Unfortunately he had already discovered that the Medallion was protected by a powerful spell. It had been bonded to the mortal's soul, making her impervious to Inscrollment and any other spell he might be able to conjure. Not even death could part the Medallion from the maiden.
The only hope of gaining control of the ancient artifact was to have it given to him of Miss Kingly's free will.
Which was precisely why he had been forced to conceive this ludicrous scheme. He had to win the trust of Miss Kingly and somehow convince her that she must offer him the amulet.
"Thank the good Lord," he said as he offered her an encouraging smile. "I feared I might have been too late."
Despite his humble manner, she seemed to instinctively sense danger in the air, and she took a step backward even as she attempted to appear suitably grateful for his display of courage.
"You were very brave."
He pressed his hands to his chest in a modest fashion. "Very kind of you, but I merely did what any other gentleman in my position would do."
She glanced toward the shuffling figures disappearing into a nearby alley. "Not every gentleman, I fear."
"No, perhaps not," he regretfully agreed. "The streets can be dangerous for a young maiden on her own. May I escort you home?"
She unexpectedly squared her shoulders. "I thank you, but that will not be necessary."
Amadeus paused. While he found her valor a source of interest, it did not suit his plans to have her quite so independent. With an effort he determinedly curbed' his flare of impatience. He was an Immortal. He had learned that patience was a virtue that could not be underestimated.
"Are you certain?" he coaxed. "I may have momentarily frightened those louts, but there is no telling when they might return. Besides which, they are not, unfortunately, the only scoundrels who would be willing to harm a maiden."
She clutched her shawl about her. "I do not live far."
"It does not take far to discover yourself in danger in such a neighborhood."
"I am accustomed to traveling these streets," she retorted, although Amadeus did not miss the manner in which her gaze strayed toward the now-empty darkness.
"Ah, but on this night it is unnecessary. I stand eager to offer my arm and my escort."
He held out his arm, but once again she stepped back from his advancing form. Briefly he wondered if the Medallion somehow gave her the ability to sense the fact he was not mortal. Or perhaps even his evil intentions. It was a complication that did nothing to improve his thinning temper.
"You are very gracious, Mr.... ?"
"Vicar Fallow." Amadeus bowed low, careful to ensure his expression remained impassive.
Even if the woman did sense something unnatural about him, she would have no notion of what it meant. Or the danger that threatened her. "And you are?"
"Miss Kingly."
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"And you, sir. However, I have a task I must complete on this evening, so if you will excuse me?"
Realizing that she was about to slip from his grasp, Amadeus smoothly blocked her path.
"May I offer my services in performing this task?"
Forced to halt, she barely managed to hide her flare of impatience. "I merely wish to speak with Molly."
"Molly?"
"She can always be found on this street."
Amadeus raised a hand to his heart and offered a soulful shake of his head. "Oh, my dear."
She frowned at his sudden expression of sorrow. "What is it?"
"Does this Molly have red hair and a freckled countenance?"
"Have you seen her?"
"I very much fear I have."
Forgetting her revulsion of him, Miss Kingly suddenly stepped forward. "What is it?"
He pretended to consider the matter for a moment before speaking. "I am uncertain how to tell you this, but she was discovered in a nearby alley just half an hour ago."
Her hand reached up to clutch the Medallion upon the chain as if seeking strength.
"Discovered? What do you mean, discovered?"
Amadeus briefly recalled the sweet delight as he drained the life from the struggling, terrified whore. It had been a hurried affair, without his usual finesse, but the blood still raced through his body with a potent force.
"She has been murdered," he announced simply.
Predictably the maiden's eyes widened in shocked horror. Humans could become so illogi-cally attached to one another.
"Dear heavens," she breathed.
"A shock, I know," he sympathized.
"Are you certain it was Molly?"
He heaved a deep sigh. "Unfortunately it was I who found the body."
There was a moment of silence as Miss Kingly struggled to come to terms with the disturbing news of her friend, then she abruptly straightened her shoulders with commendable fortitude.
"Where have they taken her?"
Once again she managed to catch Amadeus off guard with her display of courage. His brows rose at her firm words.
"No, you must not attempt to see her," he retorted in solicitous tones.
"Of course I must."
"My dear, it would not be at all prudent."
Her expression hardened to one of determination. "I do not care for prudence. She may have been a prostitute, but I cared for her."
It was the opportunity he had been awaiting. He would display just how kind and compassionate he could be.
"A most honorable sentiment, my dear, and I fully applaud your generous nature. I myself have pledged my life to helping these poor wretches who nightly struggle just to survive.
However, my desire in preventing you from joining the poor child stems from the knowledge you would be deeply disturbed by her grievous attack. The murder was quite savage."
She paled at his soft words, her hands trembling as they clutched the shawl. "Oh."
"It is truly best that you return home."
Clearly disturbed by the unexpected end to Molly, the formidable woman gave a reluctant nod of her head.
"Yes, perhaps you are right."
Once again Amadeus held out his arm. "Shall we?"
"No, no, I thank you," she stammered, still uneasy in his presence. "I prefer to be on my own."
Incensed, Amadeus took a step forward, his fangs instinctively lengthening in anticipation of the kill. He would teach this vexing chit a lesson in daring to defy him. Then, with an effort, he regained his composure.