DeliveredIntoHisHands Read online

  “I will deal with them personally,” Garrick stated.

  The baron stiffened but inclined his head just a fraction. “Understandable,” he agreed.

  “I wish to thank you for your hospitality. Had your daughter not found me, I would not have survived.”

  “Antonia is a sympathetic girl,” the baron acknowledged. “She is forever bringing home birds with broken wings, strays of all kinds.” He seemed to realize his words might be offensive and held up a hand. “Not that you are considered such, milord.”

  “I am grateful she has a good heart,” Garrick said. “And she is very lovely.”

  The baron cleared his throat. “Well, not to beat around the bush, you need be told you are her Chosen. Many years ago—before Antonia was born—the goddess Sibylline cast a prophecy—”

  “I know of it, Your Grace,” Garrick interrupted. “If you are concerned whether or not I will accept her, I will. It would be my honor to take her to wife.”

  “It is not my concerns that are the problem but rather Antonia’s,” her father stated.

  “What concerns does she have?”

  “We are human,” the baron said. “And you are not.”

  “And when your daughter Joins with me, she will be both human and Vampire,” Garrick said.

  “I imagine that is what frightens her,” the baron replied.

  “It should not. When I Mark her, she will not feel it. The advantages of bearing the Warwyck Mark are many. She will never know disease or death.”

  “Unless someone targets her as they did you.”

  Garrick stiffened. “I will protect your daughter. I would give my life for her. That is the way of the Vampire.”

  “I understand, milord, but still she fears the Changing. Surely you can understand how unsettling it is for her to know she will be forced to drink blood in order to live.”

  “I would like it that the only blood she will consume is mine,” Garrick told him. “And then only if she desires it. There is no law that says she must drink from me but, aye, she will need Sustenance to thrive. It need not be mine, nor any human or Vampire. It could be animal if that is what she wishes. We breed animals for that purpose.”

  “But to kill—”

  “The animals are not slaughtered,” Garrick said. “Nor are they drained dry. We are not savages, Your Grace. We are…” He swept his hand to the side. “A different species. Nothing more.”

  “I bid you try to understand Antonia’s apprehension and disquiet. You are the first Vampire she has encountered.”

  “I will be gentle with her, Your Grace,” Garrick said. “I will speak with her, allay her fears as best I can. Know this. I will protect her, care for her, lay the world at her feet if she asks it of me. Whatever she needs to alleviate her reservations, I will see she gets it. I will do whatever it takes to make her happy. She gave me back my life. I will give her the world.”

  “That is all a father can ask,” the baron said, a sudden smile lighting his round face.

  “You have my blessing to wed my daughter.”

  “That pleases me. Now. Tell me where I may find her so I can begin to set her mind at ease.”

  Chapter Three

  Garrick found her sitting in a wicker swing in the garden. At his approach, she stilled like a deer caught in lantern light, her hand on the chain beside her, gripping it so hard her knuckles bled of color.

  “Are you afraid of me, milady?”

  The moonlight gleamed on her unbound ebony hair. She shook her head. “No.”

  “Then why are you sitting there as though you expect me to pounce on you and rip out your throat?” he inquired.

  She lifted her chin. “I don’t like cats.”

  He angled his head slightly to the right. “What don’t you like about them?”

  “They’re sneaky and aloof and arrogant,” she answered. “And they can be mean.”

  “All things that could be said of me,” he said, the lines crinkling at the edge of his piercing blue eyes. He hunkered down before her and plucked a blade from the grass, put it to his lips, bit down and spoke through a smile. “You left out lazy.”

  “You are not helping your cause,” she muttered, looking across the garden so she wouldn’t have to stare into his mesmerizing gaze.

  “Cats love people who are there for them, who take care of them and keep them company.”

  She turned to look at him. He was now sitting with his legs crossed, wrists resting on his knees. He was gazing at her as though she might well be his next meal. She felt the blood rising in her cheeks but was unable to tear her eyes from him.

  “I would never hurt you, Tonia,” he said softly.

  “You swear it?”

  He put his right hand to his heart. “I swear it.”

  “I will hold you to it,” she said with a sniff.

  “I would expect nothing less from you, dearling.”

  “You sought me out for a reason, milord?” she asked.

  “To thank you,” he replied. “For saving my life.”

  She nodded for there was suddenly a lump in her throat preventing her from speaking.

  “And my sanity.”

  Her inquisitive look prompted a long sigh from him.

  “That night you found me, I smelled your perfume before I knew there was someone there,” he told her. “Gardenia. It is the scent my mother used to wear. I equate it with being safe, protected.” His smile wavered. “Loved.” He glanced away. “That scent dragged me up out of the fiery pit I’d been thrown into. When I opened my eyes and saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world. I wanted you to touch me. I willed you to touch me. I would have been happy with just the tip of one finger on my face.”

  “You compelled me?” she asked, eyes widening. “You glamoured me?”

  “No,” he was quick to say. “Not at all. I was in so much pain, I hurt so badly, I just wanted the comfort. You were looking down at me with compassion and I’ve known so little of that in my lifetime, when it is given to me it’s like a drug I crave. I concentrated for as long as I could each time I clawed my way to consciousness on the look in your eyes. That kept me from drowning in the madness of my agony.”

  “I am glad I could help,” she said and found she meant it.

  “So am I, milady. I will be forever grateful you decided to take a moonlight ride with your sister.” His eyes were glittering with an emotion she couldn’t fathom.

  There was an awkward silence then she got out of the swing.

  “I-I need to change for the evening meal,” she said, glancing up at the moon, which was sailing like a spectral ship across the black sea of the sky.

  “Then I bid you enjoy your repast,” he said, tipping his head so he could look up at her.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if she would see him at the table but caught herself in time. Panthera did not eat human food.

  Or did they?

  “We do,” he said, reading her mind. “As yet, I don’t feel up to solid food.”

  “Your insides suffered as well from the sun?” she asked.

  He nodded. “They did. I could feel the blood boiling within me.”

  “I am sorry, milord,” she told him.

  “That means much to me that you are, milady,” he replied and once again that white-fanged smile broke over his handsome face.

  Antonia hurried away though every instinct screamed at her to stay.

  Garrick watched her hurrying into the keep. He tracked her until he could no longer see her but her scent remained in the air to entice him. Closing his eyes, he drew her deep into his lungs. No matter where she went, he could find her by that scent. It was like the gardenia—fragile and sweet with an earthy undertone that set his pulse to racing. The Vampire inside him was attracted to the sweetness. The Panthera side of him reveled in the subtle pheromones that wafted from her in gentle waves.

  “Antonia,” he whispered.

  She was his and he looked forward to
the day he could claim her.

  He snapped open his eyes.

  There was another scent on the breeze—one he knew all too well—and he clenched his jaw.

  “Show yourself, Zoltán,” he growled.

  Marcus emerged from the deeper shadows of the garden. His footsteps were as quiet as any large cat’s and the menace that followed him was cloaked just beneath the surface.

  “Was that your Life-mate?” Marcus asked.

  “It was.”

  The friend of his childhood stepped into a shaft of moonlight. He was clothed in the black uniform of their kind, his hands shoved into his pants pockets. “What’s she like?”

  “Beautiful and smart and filled with compassion,” Garrick said then shrugged. “Doesn’t like cats.”

  “Huh,” Marc grunted. He snickered. “Goddess, that’s rich.”

  “So happy you find it amusing.”

  “I find it refreshing that there’s a female out there who isn’t trying to claw her way up your bod and sink her cunt onto your cock, bro.”

  Garrick pursed his lips at the reprimand. “Why are you here?” he asked.

  “Heard someone tried to sun-dry your ass.”

  “Aye, my insides are still simmering. Did my father send you?”

  Marc chuckled. “That’s a good one. You’re kidding, right?”

  “I thought as much. Does he know what happened?”

  “Does a Diabolusian warthog fart when he fucks?” Marcus countered. “You came close to buying it.”

  “Too close for comfort,” Garrick agree. “Closer than I ever wanted to be to the sun.”

  “Tanning is bad for your complexion anyway.”

  “Ha. Ha,” Garrick threw back at him. “You come on your own?”

  “Oran is with me.”

  “Well, of course he is. Where could you go without your shadow?”

  “Not funny,” Marc grumbled.

  “Is to me,” Garrick told him.

  “So what now?”

  Garrick uncrossed his legs, arched his back, planted his hands behind him, shot out his legs and vaulted to a standing position.

  “Don’t you ever get tired of showing off?” Marc asked.

  “Basic move, asshole,” he told his friend. “You should have learned it at the academy.”

  “I had better things to do with my time than learn acrobatics,” Marc said with a sniff. “I was doing my best to major in getting laid as often as possible and having my cock sucked until it bled.”

  “You should have taught Oran not to bite,” Garrick said.

  “Fuck you,” Marc snapped. “You know we don’t bend that way.”

  “Lighten up, Zoltán. It was a joke.” He started down the cobblestone pathway that led into the keep.

  “One that might get your fangs knocked down your throat one of these days.” He fell into step beside Garrick.

  “Her father gave her hand to me,” Garrick said, ignoring the threat.

  Marc stopped walking to stare at his friend’s back as Garrick kept walking. “In Joining?”

  “No, as an appetizer,” Garrick replied. “Of course in Joining.”

  “You can have a Life-mate without legally binding yourself to her,” Marc said. “You do know that, don’t you?” When Garrick didn’t answer, Marc hurried to catch up. He pulled in front of him, turned and began walking backward. “There are issues involved in a legal Joining, Rick. Property ownership. Marital rights. Fucking monogamy!”

  “I know,” Garrick said.

  “Monogamy!” Marc repeated. “The same woman night after night after…”

  “I know.”

  “And you can accept that?” Marc demanded. “The man who once fucked twenty women in one night?”

  “Tomcatting around in your youth is all well and good, Zoltán, but when you reach maturity, you want something else.”

  “Maturity?” Marc asked. “Who the fuck has reached maturity?”

  “Well, certainly not you, but I came close to dying a few days ago. It gave me an entirely different way of looking at things.” He used the back of his right hand to push his friend from the path.

  Marc turned around. “I think your brain got baked,” he said.

  “When you meet her, you will understand,” Garrick said. “This is the woman the goddess created for me.”

  “You mean the trouble She created for you,” Marc mumbled.

  “Antonia saved my life.”

  “Then buy her a fruit basket,” Marc said. “Don’t fucking marry her!”

  Garrick shook his head then draped an arm around his companion. “You can’t dissuade me, Marc. Stop trying. I am going to marry Antonia Blackthorn.”

  “I hope you don’t live to regret that decision,” Marc said ominously.

  * * * * *

  “He’s very handsome,” Cherise said as she buttoned her mistress’s gown. “The only flaw is that Vampire paleness.”

  “Aye,” Antonia agreed. “It is somewhat off-putting.”

  “But in the dark when he has you pinned beneath him in his bed, it won’t matter,” Cherise said with a giggle.

  “Shush!” Antonia said, her cheeks flaming. “You are so bad.”

  “Let’s hope he is so good with that monster cock I saw when I bathed him,” Cherise said. “Lucky girl.”

  Antonia did not know the task of bathing the Crimson Lord had fallen to her lady’s maid. She wasn’t at all sure that pleased her. If anything, it sent waves of jealousy through her.

  “I would love to have that cock inside me,” Cherise continued.

  “That won’t happen,” Antonia said succinctly. “Keep your hands from him!”

  Staring at her mistress in the mirror before which they stood, Cherise’s mouth formed a perfect O. Her gray eyes glittered. “Feeling territorial are you, milady?” she asked slyly.

  “Will you please finish buttoning me?” Antonia chided. “I am famished and Cook has prepared roast duck for the meal tonight.”

  “Will he be sitting beside you at table?” Cherise asked.

  “Not tonight. He is still recuperating from his ordeal.”

  Cherise clucked her tongue. “That would have been such a waste had you not rescued him.” She finished the last button and put her hands on her mistress’ shoulder—a sign of the familiarity they shared. “You do know what that would have meant, don’t you, milady?”

  Antonia shivered and nodded. “I do. I would never have known a Life-mate.”

  “Bear that in mind in those times when he irritates you—as he will considering he’s a man. Think what your life would have been like without him.”

  It was a sobering thought and somewhat calmed the fears roiling around inside her. She smoothed her hands down the form-fitting gown, turned her head from side to side. The artful curls Cherise had wrought looked good against the scoop neck of the bodice.

  “You look lovely,” her maid said. “He won’t be able to take his eyes from you.”

  “He won’t be there,” she reminded Cherise.

  “No,” Cherise said, drawing out the word. “But Lord Alyxdair will be.”

  And he was. His deep-brown gaze riveted to her the moment she entered the dining hall. He had leapt to his feet, skirting the table to offer her his arm.

  “Milady,” he said and the brown eyes glittered.

  She glanced uneasily to her mother.

  “You may take his arm now, dear. The die has been cast,” her mother told her.

  She had always liked Alyx but there was something not quite right about the way he looked at her. His look had always been proprietary.

  “Thank you, milord,” she said.

  “It is my honor, milady,” he replied and when she looked into his eyes, she saw such fury in the golden-brown depths she almost stepped away from him. Her mother’s words seemed to have angered him for his arm was rigid beneath her palm.

  Escorting her to her chair, he pulled it out for her. She felt his hand drag across her shoulders when he pu
shed it forward again and she glanced up at him. His smile belied the rage that shown like a beacon on his face.

  “Have I done something to offend you, milord?” she asked.

  “Nay!” Alyx was quick to respond. “Why would you think you have?”

  She shook her head. “No reason.” She took up her napkin and laid it in her lap, casting another uneasy look to her mother, who sat at the opposite end of the table from her husband.

  “I take it our guest will not be joining us,” Lady Maripose said.

  “He is still under the weather,” the baron said.

  “The sun almost did him in,” Alyx said as he took his seat across from Antonia. It was his customary place when dining with the Blackthorn family—which seemed to be almost daily. “Too bad it didn’t.”

  “Alyx!” Antonia said with a gasp, her eyes wide.

  “I was jesting, sweeting,” he said but the smile he gave her was brittle and did not extend to his eyes.

  “That is not something about which to jest,” she told him.

  “No, it was not and I apologize,” Alyx said. She noted there was no contrition showing on his handsome face.

  “You should be careful what you say,” the baron chastised.

  Alyx shook out his napkin. “I certainly will in the future. So tell me, Tonia. Have you set the date for the Joining? I assume there will be a gala for the event.”

  “He has not asked me as yet,” Antonia said.

  A bright spark entered Alyx’s dark gaze. “Is it not a foregone conclusion then?”

  “Not until he formally asks her,” her mother stated. “The warrior has her father’s permission but he needs her acceptance.”

  Alyx shifted his attention to Antonia. “And will you give it?”

  “He is my Chosen,” she said as the maid set a tureen of soup before her. “Naturally I shall.”

  “If he asks,” Alyx pressed.

  “He will ask,” Lady Maripose said.

  “Have you met him, milady?” Alyx asked the older woman.

  “Not as yet but I am to have an interview with him tomorrow evening when he rises,” she answered.

  Alyx turned to Antonia. “Does it bother you that he is…well…what he is and cannot be with you in the light of day?”