Torchlight

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Cassandra breathed in deeply and slumped against a crate. "My God! Who are you and why in heavens does it seem like the entire underworld is after you?!"

Emmanuel ignored her question, patrolling the perimeter of their little sanctuary. Seeing no other men, he looked toward Cassandra. "I think that is it. I do not think there are any more coming." He checked his pistol. "We need to get back to Konstantin House."

"That is it? No explanation? Nothing?"

Emmanuel stared and the woman slumped against the crated wall. Her hair was in complete disarray. The neat braid had long since come undone, and wispy auburn swirls framed her face. She wore men's black breeches and a black silk shirt. The cloak she had been wearing, lay at her feet. For the moment, she seemed to tired to care about the fact that almost every curve of her body was visible.

Brave, courageous and extraordinarily beautiful, even with blood and sweat covering her. "You fought well, Lady Cassandra. Exceptionally well."

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Touché, Your Grace. I take it we head back to Konstantin House and we all spill our guts? Metaphorically speaking, of course."

Emmanuel chucked. "Very perceptive. And, I would hope you would call me Emmanuel. I think after the night we have had, we are past the formalities?"

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. "I am not at all sure I can trust you yet, Your Grace. Until then, I think the formalities will remain firmly in place."

Emmanuel laughed, and the sound did something strange to her insides. "As you wish, my Lady." He inclined his head. "And although I would love to continue this rather interesting conversation, we need to get going." He looked at the sky and dawn was fast approaching. He offered her his hand. "Shall we?"

Cassandra eyed his hand, then his face. Morning shadow covered his cheeks, in raspy contrast to the dark, thick and extraordinarily long eye lashes framing his cobalt eyes. He was dangerous. And she was in danger just being around him. But she cast that aside and took his hand anyway. He stared at their linked hands for a second before tightening his grasp on hers.

"Can you walk? Or do you want me to carry you?"

Cassandra snorted in the way Emilia usually did. Another chuckle from the Duke before, hands linked, they sprinted from their resting place, making their way to the rendezvous point.

To the north, Jasper, slumped on the ground, cursed. "Dammit! Dammit!"

Emilia turned to look at him. He was bleeding profusely from his side. She approached him cautiously, and then halted.

He looked at her and said sarcastically. "Scared?"

Emilia didn't answer.

"Well you bloody well should be."

"You are a vampire, aren't you?"

He didn't respond.

"My God, you are!" Emilia rushed forward then halted, unsure. Instinct guided her as she moved forward slowly and knelt beside him. Gingerly she touched his face, her fear momentarily forgotten as her excitement bubbled forth. "I have heard your kind existed, but I have never met one!"

Jasper shrugged off her touch. "The museum is closed, my Lady. I am no exhibition," he growled irritably.

Emilia rocked back on her heels, chastised. "I am sorry. I did not mean to offend. But you are... you are fascinating."

Jasper just grunted in response.

Emilia looked at his side. He had his hand pressed to the wound. He was truly bleeding excessively. Instinctively she put her hand over his, and pressed. "We have got to get to safety. There might still be men about."