Winterly (Dark Creatures Book 1), стр. 78
He gave a bitter laugh and expounded further. “I am He That Stalks In The Darkness—a Fallen.”
“A fallen angel,” she said, her words barely audible. “What was your name?”
“My earthly name is Markus. The name by which I was known ere I fell is of no moment, for you could never pronounce it with your mortal tongue; besides, that being was naught but a servant with a servile name.”
“How old are you?”
“I am not yet thirty.”
“No” —she clucked her tongue— “how long have you existed in the universe.”
“Since time immemorial.” He gave a lift of one impassive shoulder. “What does it really matter?”
“The particulars matter very much!” She pressed her fingers to her temples, lest her mind unravel with all that he had told her. “Before I met you the world made sense. I was only tedious, old Emma Rose and—”
“You were never that,” he said. “You only hide your daimon behind austerity and high necklines. But I see you, Emma.”
“And what do you see?” She was transfixed, warmed by his silky voice and intoxicating words.
“An adventuress in a red dress,” he replied. “One whose desires match my own.”
“You know nothing of my desires, vampyre.”
“An incubus, you called me once. I recall I knew even then what your desires were—still are. Do you remember?”
“My God! You were in my room in London!” Her eyes flew wide with the implication. “You crawled up the wall to my window?”
“I did no such thing,” he said, mouth pursing distastefully. “I am not a bloody spider. I entered by your uncle’s leave, or did you forget that I was invited.”
“Not to my bed, you devil!” And then, with a gasp, another thought occurred to her. “You meant to kill me that first night, in the fog!”
“You mean the night I saved you?”
Had he saved her only to savor her later? “Do you deny you were hunting me?”
“I craved your flesh that night, I won’t deny it. I crave it still.” He took a step closer. “And your blood most of all.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Responsive and Warm
He craved her flesh and blood!
The ball, the waltzing, the harlequins, the costumes, and all the sumptuous splendor—every bit of it a farse! The Idyll was now well and truly at an end. Winterly’s admission had doused Emma in rippling chills.
She closed her eyes against the preternatural gaze pinning her. “How…how then does the next part of this act play out?”
“That all depends on you.”
“I don’t want to die.”
“And you shan’t.”
Her brow tightened. “I don’t wish to be…like you either.”
“Immortal? That too is your choice, Emma.”
“I have choices, do I?” If she had any power at all it was only by his authority, and well she knew it. And that rankled. It was easier to let it rankle, for the alternative was to admit bloodless dread. On a whim he could snap her neck as easily as pluck a rose from its root. “So I could leave Winterthurse this very minute if I chose? Or am I a prisoner here?” She had to know.
“You are at liberty to do as you please. But unless my senses play me false, I rather believe you’ll stay, if only to appease your own curiosity. After all, it is in your nature to seek and to question.” He brought his lips to the corner of her mouth, and from there brushed them softly along her jawline to her ear.
“What more is there to question?” she said, turning her head, for his lips were hovering over her pulse and it unnerved her. “I know your secret now. There is no need to stay and seek any longer.”
“So you have discovered all, have you?”
“All I wish to know, yes.”
“Liar.” He lifted his head with a chuckle. “There is no fun in running away, lest you wish me to give chase. Admittedly, the chase would give me immense pleasure.”
“Whether or not I wish to run or stay is moot. Not at the expense of my sister’s life shall I stay here a moment longer.” She raised her hands to his chest to push him away. “What will happen to Milli if I stay?”
“Like you, your sister is master of her own fate.”
“I must know if she is in danger here! Give me an answer I can accept.” Emma put some real force behind her hands, but it did her no good. Proof that he controlled the situation, not she.
With an impatient sound he finally gave her the space she desired. “There are limits to my power, Emma. I cannot foretell the future, nor can I rewrite what has already occurred…”
“What does that mean?”
“Your sister allows intemperance to decide her fate. I am not her keeper.”
Emma was on the verge of ripping out her hair. “But is she safe here?”
“She is now.”
“How can I be assured of that?”
“You have my word.”
“But the word of a vampyre holds no water with me.”
“Suit yourself, my rose.”
“I despise that moniker!” More so because she did not wish to be the sick rose that he clearly meant to make of her.
“How prickly you are tonight.” He pulled his watch out and regarded the hour. “And this, the cusp of your birthday.”
He was right, she was being testy. Was she a fool for testing the limit of his beneficence? It was foolhardy to provoke a vampyre, was it not? Warm tears were spilling over her cheeks before she could check them. It was not for fear of her own safety that had so quietly filled her eyes but the unspeakable dread that her sister might be in mortal danger. Her throat constricted with great painful sobs that whelmed up from the bottom of her heart. She was loath to have him witness what she would rather do in private, but the leak had sprung and there was