Chapter
23
The confession of the chief of police
was the lead story in the local paper and on the nightly news.
According to reporters, he had confessed to killing his daughter,
Jenica Dinescu, as well as Emil Bramwell, the banker’s
son.
The police arrived at Wolfram Castle
early that morning with a warrant to search the grounds for the
body. Drake had warned Elena to feign ignorance of the location of
the corpse, saying it would only complicate matters if she told the
police where to look, and might cause problems in the future when
the police wondered why she hadn’t come forward to report finding
the body.
When questioned, she told the officers
what she had once thought of as the truth—her cousin had run away
from home with one of the boys from town.
“It’s what my uncle told me the morning
Jenica went missing,” Elena said. “I had no reason to believe
otherwise.”
There was no pretense in her tears when
they exhumed her cousin’s body, placed it in an ugly black bag, and
carried it away. They found Emil Bramwell, too, buried in a far
corner of the garden, as well as another, unidentified
body.
It fell to Elena to arrange for
Jenica’s funeral, which was held two days later. Nearly everyone in
town attended. They offered Elena their sympathy, murmuring words
of kindness, of disbelief, that a man like Tavian Dinescu could
have done such a terrible thing.
The following day, Emil Bramwell was
laid to rest. Again, the townspeople turned out to pay their
respects and offer their condolences to the family.
Elena felt duty-bound to attend Emil’s
funeral. She stood at the grave site, feeling lost and alone, and
wishing that Drake could be at her side. He had been a great
comfort in the past few days. She missed him now, missed his arm
around her, giving her strength, his calm assurance that everything
would be all right.
Standing there, she had an inkling of
how he must feel when he was among mortals. He looked human, but he
didn’t really belong. And it occurred to her that as long as she
lived with him, there would always be a gulf between her and her
own kind.
She stayed at the funeral only as long
as necessary, and then hurried up to the castle on the hill where a
big gray cat waited to greet her.
“I am sorry I could not be there for
you,” Drake said later that night. They were sitting on one of the
new sofas in front of the fire, his arm draped around her
shoulders, her head resting against his arm.
“I know. They’re both at peace now,”
Elena said, and hoped it was true. “They still haven’t identified
the third body. It’s been there much longer than . . . than the
others. I overheard one of the townspeople say he thought the body
belonged to a young woman who had stayed at the inn eight or nine
years ago. She went missing, though she had left all her belongings
behind.”
She took a deep breath, wishing this
was all behind her, but there was still her uncle’s trial to get
through. “Do you ever think about death? About dying?”
“Not often.”
“Stefan said your father is over a
thousand years old.”
Drake nodded.
“I can’t imagine living that long. Does
he ever get bored, do you think?”
“With twenty wives and dozens of
children? I doubt it.”
“So, you have other siblings besides
those on the Council?”
“Yes.” He lifted a strand of her hair
and let it slide through his fingers.
“Why did he choose those
twelve?”
“They are his favorites. Many of the
others live elsewhere, as do his other wives whenever Liliana stays
at the Fortress.”
She grinned. “That’s what Stefan
said.”
“She is very jealous. I always found
that odd, since she claims to have no love for her
husband.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Not entirely. I believe she cares for
him as much as she is able. As much as he will allow.”
“We’ll never have children, will
we?”
“It is doubtful. As far as I know, no
mortal woman has ever given birth to a child sired by one of us.”
His hand stroked her nape. “Does that bother you?”
“A little. Doesn’t it bother
you?”
“No. You are all I need.” His hand
cupped her cheek and then he was pressing his lips to hers, his
tongue slowly teasing hers, until her stomach quivered with
excitement. His hands caressed her, gently, tenderly, and then with
greater and greater urgency, until she lay beneath him, her legs
wrapped around his waist. She had no idea where her clothes had
gone, didn’t care about anything but the urgent need that grew
inside her.
He whispered love words to her in a
language she didn’t understand, but there was no mistaking their
meaning, or the desire behind them.
She moaned when his tongue slid along
the side of her neck, closed her eyes when she felt his fangs
lightly scrape her skin.
“Elena?”
She heard the question in his voice,
the need, and had no thought to refuse him. Murmuring, “Yes,” she
clung to him, caught up in a sensual whirlwind that carried her
away to a place where she had never been, a mystical place where
there were no doubts, no fears for the future, only the incredible
pleasure of his bite and the magic of two souls blending, bonding,
to become one.