“And yet it is my life.”
Nikolai shifted to where his brother lay, still laughing to himself, and worked to get the older man to his feet. From the corner of his eye, he watched as the empress forced her face back into a stern glare.
“Well you should learn to better babysit your brother,” she grumbled, pulling the sheets up closer to her plump neckline.
“I’ll do my best, Your Majesty,” he sighed, trying his best to give her one last bow before dragging his naked brother out of her room.
As he reached the door, the lady-in-waiting handed him the bundle of his brother’s clothing, a sympathetic look on her face.
Not for the first time, Nikolai half carried his brother back to their chambers. He hurried as fast as his burden would allow, his face heating up with each titter from the ladies of the court, their faces hidden behind delicate fans that did nothing to obscure their view of his brother’s assets.
With the help of Dmitri’s footman they got the useless count into his bed and covered. Nikolai dismissed the footman with a wave of his hand and slumped to the ground beside his brother’s bed, waiting for the usual purge that would come soon enough.
Nikolai ran his hands through his black hair, tangling his fingers in its length until it hurt. The pain helped clear his head of the cobwebs of hate and regret. This wasn’t the first time he had endured embarrassment at his brother’s hands, and it wouldn’t be the last. He spent the next hour dreaming of what his life could have been like if he had been free to pursue his own dreams.
He was jolted free from his depressing fantasies by the sudden and violent vomiting of his brother. From years of practice, Nikolai easily had the bowl under his brother’s mouth before he could stain the delicate rug. It took Dmitri half an hour of vomiting before he settled back into a deeper sleep, mostly oblivious to the torment Nikolai had just endured.
Nikolai returned to his own chamber to bathe and change, ignoring the laughter his vomit-smeared waistcoat received.
The dull winter sun had just set when Nikolai finished tying off his cravat and slipping his feet into the doe-hide slippers customary for evenings in the royal palace. He preferred boots, mud, and horses over the festivities of the Russian court, but he was needed here so long as his brother remained. Soon enough the army would force Dmitri to return and Nikolai could return to his work on the estate.
Nikolai turned at the sound of a small fist against his door.
“Enter,” he said as he slipped into his overcoat.
The same lady-in-waiting entered his room, quickly shutting the door and glancing around the room as though she feared he had company.
“Yes, my lady? Is it my brother again?” he asked, only giving her half his attention.
“No. I wish to speak with you. I’m Marina. I believe your name is Nikolai.”
“Yes, miss. Nikolai Krasniy.”
She gave him a pretty smile and a small curtsy. “Marina Vyazemsky, at your service.”
Nikolai frowned at her and her choice of words. Was she seducing him? He was not his brother and refused to get entangled with a court woman; they were all whores and he wasn’t interested in that sort of intimacy.
“What do you want, miss?”
She took a few hesitant steps toward him. “Is this a common difficulty of yours?” she asked, waving her hand in the general direction of his brother’s bedroom.
“You mean Dmitri? It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Marina smiled. “Oh, I can see that. But you shouldn’t have to.”
Nikolai shrugged. This conversation was taking a rather uncomfortable turn. He didn’t like discussing his situation with people, especially strangers, for fear he would say too much and it would get back to his father. The old man was a stickler for patriarchal structure of their family. He was the master of their clan, and soon Dmitri would take his place at the top.
“Do you ever wish to pursue your own dreams?”
“I don’t see how that’s any business of yours, miss.”
“Let me make it my business. Let me free you from the weight of your brother’s failings.”
Nikolai frowned again. It was an unusual way of describing his situation, and its accuracy made him want to spill out all his anger and frustration on this woman.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Marina closed the distance between them. “I can take you away from all this. We could see the world together. We could taste all the pleasures this world has to offer, without the burden of family or duty.”
Nikolai chuckled, liking the pretty picture she had painted.
“And what of the empress.”
Marina shrugged. “I’ve grown tired of her ways. I was going to leave the palace soon anyway, but I would rather do so with company.”
Nikolai smiled down at her. “I’m sorry to break your little fantasy, but I must remind you I am the younger son. I have no fortune to splurge on this journey.”
Marina laughed loudly. “Nikolai, you do not need to worry about money if you come with me. I get whatever I want.”
“Is that so? And how do you manage this?”
“Fear is a powerful motivator.”
“Forgive me, miss, but I cannot imagine anyone fearing you,” he said, his eyes trailing down her long, milky-white neck to her breasts.
Marina increased her smile in such a way that, despite his statement, Nikolai felt a trickle of fear run down his spine, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand to attention. He didn’t take a step back, but he wanted to. Every fiber in his body told him to put some distance between himself and this strange woman.
“Everyone’s afraid of a vampire,” she whispered in his ear as she leaned up against him.
Nikolai felt his body relax as he laughed at her ridiculous statement. The laughter turned into a cry of surprise as she stepped away from him and revealed lengthened teeth within her smile. Nikolai stumbled backward, knocking a chair to the ground and tangling himself in its feet.
“Ssshhh,” she said, crouching down beside him, her dress flowing out around her. “I won’t hurt you, but don’t you see? I can take you away from here. I can make you live forever, with me.”
Nikolai swallowed and asked the first question that came to his mind. “Why me?”
“I saw your heart in the empress’ bedroom. I saw all that desire hidden where no one might see it. I want to make it blossom. I want to give you the freedom to let all those dreams come out. I want someone to play with me,” she added, her smile looking unnatural with her pointed teeth.
Before he could respond, a pounding against his door interrupted them. Nikolai climbed to his feet and glanced around, wondering where Marina was and how she had left so quickly. He saw the door to his wardrobe hanging open and assumed she was hiding in there.
“What?” he demanded, sounding gruffer than he had intended.
A footman poked his head in. “Your brother requests your presence in his bedroom.”
Nikolai ground his teeth together. A request could be denied. This was a demand. He stomped out of his room, his mind still focused on the woman hiding in his wardrobe.
Many hours later Nikolai returned to his room, having seen to all his brother’s demands. They had been unusually course this evening. Whatever had happened in the empress’ bedroom had sullied his mood. Nikolai suspected Dmitri had not been able to perform for the demanding woman. It would explain why one of Nikolai’s more detestable tasks had been to retrieve a whore from the city for his brother’s satisfaction.
Nikolai entered his room, surprised to find Marina lounging across his bed, reading his private journal. For the most part the book contained nothing but business dealings concerning the estate, but occasionally he had use the outlet to release all his pent up feelings.
She smiled up at him in a way that convinced him she had found those secret entries.
“When do we leave?” he asked before he could censure his word
s.
As he spoke he realized he didn’t want to take back the harried question. He was done running errands for his worthless brother. Nikolai was ready to live his own life.
Marina’s smile brightened. “We can leave tomorrow night. But there is something we must do first.”
“What?”
“I must change you into a vampire like me. I can’t stand traveling with a human. You’re just too tempting.”
“Fine,” he snapped.
Nikolai wanted to do whatever it would take to keep himself from backing out. If they couldn’t leave until the next sunset he might change his mind, but if she changed him into a vampire he would have no choice but to join her on a journey.
Nikolai wondered when he had come to accept the reality of vampires, but decided she had readily proven their existence. Before he could blink she was off the bed and beside him. She didn’t give him a chance to change his mind but sunk her sharp teeth into his neck, through his cravat. Nikolai winced at the pain but remained stationary as she slipped her fingers into his hair.
As he began to feel weak, she lowered him to the ground, still drinking. Nikolai was just beginning to descend into unconsciousness when he felt something wet against his lips. Instinctually he licked at the liquid. It tasted as though it was exactly what he had been longing for, without realizing he even had a craving.
Nikolai stared up at the Winter Palace for the first time in nearly sixty years. He and Marina were taking a great risk in returning to the palace where some old servant might recognize them. They were continually changing their appearance, as Marina liked to travel within tight circles. Though they had journeyed into Prussia, Lithuania, and Poland, they had yet to enjoy the wonders of the world as she had promised.
He was growing tired of her games. She liked to return for the same reason he hated it—the risk. She thrived on peril and intrigue. Marina assumed she was safe with him due to his lack of funds. Little did she realized Nikolai had spent the last fifty-seven years carefully pocketing money and putting it into a small investment. Though he didn’t have enough to live on in the same style of life as she provided, he now was incurring enough interest to live respectably. Soon he would grow tired of her antics and just leave.
Nikolai dragged his attention back to the present as he climbed the steps of the Winter Palace. Empress Catherine, related to the late Empress Anna through marriage, now ruled Russia. As much as Nikolai detested the Russian nobility, he had to admit Empress Catherine had brought a new prosperity to the country. As they took their seats in the large hall, currently being used for musical performances Nikolai spotted the current Count Krasniy, his nephew. He kept up-to-date on his family’s affairs through the gossip of the nation and the occasional secretive visit. From what he could tell, his young nephew was a sight better than his late brother.
Nikolai smiled. It made him happy to see his family estates back in the hands of a man who cared.
Annoyed with the confines of the musical hall, Nikolai rose and slipped out into the dead gardens. Despite the frigid Russian winters, the nobility loved trying to grow gardens to match their warmer European sisters. Nikolai wandered through the dead bushes, taking pleasure in his morbid surroundings.
Though he grew annoyed with Marina, he had to admit she had brought out a part of him he thought forever buried under the duty to family. Thanks to her, he had learned to take pleasure in the world around him, whether it was a pretty woman or a dead garden.
Nikolai glanced up, suddenly aware he was not alone. A woman was standing on the other side of the waist-high shrubbery. Nikolai glanced around, surprised to find someone else willing to brave the freezing night. She wore a modern dress, the skirting starting just under her breasts and running down in lengthy folds. The new style of dress was just beginning to make inroads into the staunch styles of Russia.
Her arms were bare and her delicate shawl was draped over her wrists. She didn’t seem to notice the cold breeze buffeting her skirts.
Slowly, Nikolai realized he didn’t hear her heartbeat.
“Miss,” he said, forcing his voice to be polite. “Surely you are cold out in this weather.”
“No more than you,” she replied. “I couldn’t stand the music for a second longer. I came outside for something more entertaining, never thinking my wants would be so well met.”
Nikolai smiled. He was in the mood for a flirtation, and this woman was beautiful.
“And how may I entertain you, miss?”
“Oh please, call me Emma.”
“As you wish, Emma. I am Nikolai.”
“And I am open to whatever entertainment you might be able to provide, Nikolai.”
Nikolai smiled wider. He had many ideas of ways to entertain her, and, as he knew her to be a vampire like himself, he suspected she would be just as willing.
“I find myself rather peckish. Shall we find someone to eat?” he asked her.
Emma smiled demurely. “I would love to.”
Chapter Three: Till Death Do We Suck
Emma stared at her unnatural form in the full-length mirror. The side hoops, or panniers, made her look unnaturally wide. Coming from a poor farming family, this was her first formal gown. Despite being an exquisite beauty at twenty-five, Emma Tanner was just now facing her own wedding nuptials. Her mother had tried to attach her to one farmer’s son or another throughout the years, but Emma had flatly refused to marry. Now, with her father dead and the farm being auctioned off, Emma was their last chance at retaining any respectability.
Thus, Emma’s mother had done something rather unconventional. She had spent their small savings on having Emma’s portrait painted repeatedly. With these precious paintings, her mother had written to every rich bachelor she could find within the local circulars—sending some letters as far as Boston—and, to their great surprise, they had received a response from a plantation owner in the tropical island of St. Kitts. The result was that soon Emma would be walking down the aisle to marry a complete stranger who had traveled all the way up to Delaware.
Emma felt her breath battle against the tight stays of her corset as panic built up in her chest. Logically, she knew this was the best thing for her and her destitute mother, but she couldn’t shake the fear from her mind. She was about to give herself over to a complete stranger, becoming his property.
“Ready?” her mother asked as she finished the last adjustments to the train descending from Emma’s shoulders.
Emma swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. Her mother led her out of the upstairs room and into the hotel’s parlor. A middle aged, balding man turned to look at them. A pleasant, professional smile pulled at his thin lips. It wasn’t the look of a man who had just seen his bride for the very first time. There was no awe or disgust. Emma frowned at him, her delicate brows pulling together.
“You must be Emma Tanner,” he said. “I’m Mr. Dupree, Mr. Mewborn’s agent. I’m afraid, due to unforeseen circumstances, Mr. Mewborn was unable to travel up to fetch you. I have been charged with bringing you down to St. Kitts for the wedding. And you, of course, Madame,” he added, bowing to Emma’s mother.
Emma felt her famed fury build up inside her. Her future husband couldn’t even bother coming to her for the wedding? Before she could respond to the man standing before her, her mother surreptitiously took hold of her wrist and squeezed until Emma gave a yip of pain. Emma delicately inclined her head to the agent.
Though the journey south was long and boring, it gave Emma plenty of time to think. There was no getting out of the wedding. She had to admit that to herself, but there just might be a way to get out of the marriage if she found her new husband to be unbearable. Emma forced herself to remember the wonderful marriage her mother and father had enjoyed despite having it arranged by their parents. Repeatedly, Emma told herself she would only put her plan into action if the man she married was cruel or abusive.
It took nearly four weeks of sailing along the coastl
ine to reach the Caribbean Sea and finally the harbor of St. Kitts. Emma and her mother disembarked with Mr. Dupree to find a stately landau waiting for them. The sailors quickly loaded their few trunks and Mr. Dupree handed them in before taking his seat beside the driver. They drove through town, the locals pointing and gawking as they passed by.
Emma noticed her mother growing increasingly uncomfortable as their audience grew. Whoever her new husband was, his equipage was causing a stir. Before either of them could become too uncomfortable, they reached the end of the town and began winding their way up the interior of the tropical island. Emma began to relax as she eyed the unusual foliage. Large, colorful flowers dotted the greenery. Though she still felt nervous about meeting her new spouse, a trickle curiosity was growing inside her.
After another hour of making their way into the mountain island, they turned into a gated property, the tall stone walls climbing at least ten feet into the forest. A man ran out to the gate and opened it before the large carriage could come to a stop. They continued on into the property, traveling for another half hour before they arrived on a graveled drive lining a tall, modern house.
Mr. Dupree jumped down and handed the two ladies out of the carriage. Emma was back in her one formal gown and the journey had rumpled the side bustles. Her mother quickly adjusted the fabric and smoothed it out. Mr. Dupree led them up to the front doors, which were conveniently opened for them by a waiting footman.
The entryway was large, with dark oak flooring scrubbed to a bright shine under the great candelabra hanging above their heads. Emma glanced around, noting that the floor-to-ceiling windows had been covered by the thickest curtains she had ever seen. Ascending before them was a double set of elegantly curved staircases, meeting on a landing on the second floor and continuing up to the third floor as a single staircase. Off the entryway, Emma glanced through one set of open doors to find a dark dining room. On the other side of the foyer sat what looked to be an enormous drawing room.
Before Emma could look further into the house, Mr. Dupree spoke. “Please wait here. I’ll find Mr. Mewborn.”