From Afar Page 4

  “It will get easier to accept with time.” Laurent’s soft voice broke the quiet.

  “And how much time have you had?”

  A veil of sadness fell over his face. “Thirty-six years.”

  “How old were you when you were…turned?”

  “One-and-twenty.”

  Six years younger than Aleric. Odd, to think the man was actually fifty-seven years of age. He certainly didn’t look it. “Are there others like us?”

  “Yes.”

  “In London?”

  Laurent hesitated. “Yes.”

  More questions tumbled about in his head, but he had the impression Laurent would not welcome them now. Laurent hadn’t ducked his head, had not gone back to hiding beneath the curtain of his hair. He still regarded him with those patient silver eyes. Still…

  Aleric absently shook his head, not able to pinpoint where that sensation, that sense of discomfort, of trepidation came from.

  “It is getting late,” Laurent announced. “You should settle in for the day, get some rest. Even though you can hide yourself from the sun, you need to sleep during daylight hours. Your body will demand it. If you wish, you are welcome to my bed.” A graceful leap and he landed soundlessly on his feet.

  His bed? Of course, whose bed would he be in? And a very comfortable bed at that, though a bit untidy. The rumpled coverlet exposed hints of the white sheet beneath. The pillows bunched at the headboard. The mattress soft yet firm, and large enough to easily accommodate two men. His skin prickled with awareness, with the memory of that rumpled silk coverlet sliding against his back as Laurent pounded into him.

  He snapped his head around, his attention going immediately to Laurent as the man adjusted the drapes covering one of the windows. The muscles in his back rippled and flexed with his movements. Aleric clenched his fists against the need to palm the round globes of his arse.

  Arousal washed over him, focusing his senses fully on Laurent. He flared his nostrils, soaking up the scents in the air. Male musk, a hint of clean soap, and dried sweat mixed with the distinct scent of his own seed. Laurent still wore his mark. A tremble shook his body. His breathing turned harsh, heavy. He felt a light prick, like the touch from a needle, on his gums. He absently ran his tongue over his upper teeth, snagging two sharp points.

  He rocked forward, coiling his muscles, a split second from springing from the bed, from launching himself at Laurent, tackling the man to the ground, sinking his teeth into that muscled shoulder and taking him, when it registered that Laurent was walking toward the door.

  “Laurent.” Was that his voice? It sounded more growl than a word.

  Hand on the knob, he turned. His once limp prick jutted from his body, stiff and hard. The scent so strong and precise, Aleric swore he could taste the fluid beaded on the tip of Laurent’s cock.

  “You may call me Raphael, if you wish.”

  “You are leaving?”

  “Yes. You need to rest.” He tipped his head in the direction of Aleric’s groin, his only acknowledgement of the raging erection that needed his full attention. “And if I stay much longer, you won’t be getting any rest. Good day, Aleric. I will see you again come nightfall.”

  The click of the door shutting echoed in the room before it faded to nothingness.

  His panting breaths were all that broke the silence. The sounds quickened, grew shallower, hitching in his chest.

  No!

  Aleric leapt from the bed, landing on his feet less than a pace from the door. Heart slamming against his ribs, he flung open the door.

  Halfway down a short corridor, Raphael turned to face him. “Is there something you need?”

  You.

  He couldn’t explain it, but he was suddenly frantic not to be left alone. Ridiculous notion. He was a grown man, had lived alone for the past three years. But he just could not shake it, couldn’t reason with the stark desperation not to be separated from Raphael.

  “Aleric?”

  “Where are you going?” Hell, and now he even sounded desperate.

  “To another room for the night.” Raphael flicked his fingers behind him, toward the closed door at the end of the corridor.

  Stay with me. He gripped the knob tightly, but he couldn’t will the tremble from his arm.

  Raphael’s probing gaze swept over his face. After a moment, he nodded.

  The tension slipped away as Raphael walked toward him. Aleric stepped aside, allowing Raphael to pass, and then closed the door behind him.

  Raphael pulled back the coverlet, righted both pillows, and climbed into the bed, taking up the place on the far side. Aleric watched as he snagged the coverlet, pulling it up to his chest, clearly settling in for the night.

  He looked to Aleric and patted the mattress. “Come along. You can’t very well get any rest standing at the door.”

  Refusing to think about the fact that he was getting into bed with a naked man, he crossed the room and slipped beneath the cool sheet. Raphael doused the candle on the bedside table, plunging the room into total darkness.

  Aleric blinked. Apparently he did still need some light to see by.

  The acrid wisp of smoke from the candle stung his nostrils then the scent quickly dissipated. He gave his pillow a punch to fluff it and stretched out on his stomach. The heat from Raphael’s body drew him closer and before he was aware of it, his arm was slung over his waist and he was nestled against his side, his head resting on Raphael’s shoulder.

  Rather than arouse him anew, the press of bare skin against bare skin brought only comfort, pushing away the last lingering bit of panic that had clutched his gut like a damn fist. Gentle fingers smoothed his hair, lulling his senses. The steady beats of Raphael’s heart had his eyes drifting closed. He should thank him. The man had somehow understood, saving him from the embarrassment of being reduced to pleading with Raphael to stay. But sleep was fast overtaking him.

  Tomorrow. He’d thank him tomorrow.

  Chapter Five

  Cracked wooden shingles passed by in a blur beneath Raphael’s bare feet. A quick adjustment in his stride and he leapt across the space between two buildings. The woman lingering in the shadows amidst the refuse and discarded crates in the alley didn’t even look up.

  The neat rows of townhouses and tidy Squares marking Mayfair were far behind him. In their place was a maze of narrow streets and flash houses, taverns and decrepit buildings. The damp stench of foul water and of unwashed bodies stung his nostrils. Why was it the Thames smelled so much worse on this end of Town?

  Instead of clearing the next alley, he paused at the edge of a building’s roof and glanced about. The full moon was high in the sky, illuminating the chaotic pattern of the surrounding rooflines. Some sharply peaked, some flat, some bowed with age. The fog rolling in from the Thames hung low between the buildings, shrouding the alleys and streets in a light mist. The sun had set a few hours ago. The few hardworking souls who inhabited the East End were now safe in their beds, leaving the thieves and the drunkards and the whores to wander the streets. Easy prey for those like himself.

  Not that he ever sought a meal here. He wouldn’t dare to poach on another’s territory. He valued his neck, after all. And as the only one of his kind in the West End, he could easily delay the occasional gentleman on his way home without causing undue suspicion.

  But he wasn’t the only vampire in Mayfair anymore. At least not at the moment. It had taken all his self-control not to remain with Aleric. To resist the overpowering need to simply be near him, never mind having the man in his arms. Somehow he had managed to slip out of bed, leaving Aleric undisturbed as he slept.

  Nor had he been foolish enough to believe Aleric’s unspoken request last night had anything to do with Raphael in particular. Any warm body would have done. Yes, he’d been taken aback to find Aleric in the open doorway, but he should have predicted it. The man’s anxiety had been palpable and completely understandable. After all, it had just been a byproduct of the confusion that
came along with being a new vampire.

  Though given Aleric’s reaction last night, perhaps he should have woken him, informed him he was leaving for a bit. But then again, Aleric could have turned those pleading eyes on him again, forcing him to stay. No matter how much he wished it otherwise, tonight’s errands needed his immediate attention. And he needed to be quick about it. The note he’d left on the bedside table beside the candle he’d left lit informed Aleric he’d return by midnight. He hadn’t wanted the man to awaken and believe himself abandoned.

  He’d already been to the East End once tonight and made several stops at Aleric’s bachelor apartments. Just one last errand before he could return home to retrieve Aleric. He scanned the rooflines, his attention stopping on the crumbled chimney two streets over. He backed up two paces, sprinted forward, and cleared the distance to the next building, setting off toward that chimney.

  When he reached his destination, he crouched amidst the fallen bricks and peered over the gutter hanging by a few nails from the edge of the roof. Tall, broad of shoulder, with dark hair…Raphael briefly closed his eyes and reached out his other senses…and a vampire. Not the same one he’d voiced his request to earlier, but definitely one of Katerina’s.

  The vampire pushed from the brick wall and looked up, catching Raphael’s gaze. At his nod, Raphael dropped down, landing a good few paces from where the man stood. Clad all in black to blend in with the shadows, he was handsome, in a starkly masculine sort of way, but beyond their unappealing arrogance, for some reason Raphael had never found himself attracted to any of her vampires. Odd, considering Aleric was cut from a similar physical mold. He’d fit seamlessly into her clan.

  Apprehension began to seep into his gut but he forcibly pushed it aside. Not something he needed to dwell on at the moment. There would be time enough for those particular worries later tonight.

  “Will she grant me an audience?” he asked, pitching his voice low to avoid being overheard by unwanted ears. He had debated whether to reveal he’d have a guest in tow and decided silence the safest route on that subject.

  Hard, iron-gray eyes swept the length of Raphael’s body. A sneer of disdain curved the man’s lips. “Yes.”

  “My thanks,” he said, with a quick tip of his head, careful to keep his attention on the vampire. “And please extend my gratitude to her. She can expect me…” He paused to calculate the time it would take to return home, pick up Aleric and travel back across the city. Then he added a bit to cover any unforeseen delays. Being late would not do. “…within two hours.”

  The vampire didn’t respond. Merely turned on his heel and strode out of the alley. The rude dismissal did not rankle in the slightest. He would rather have them treat him as insignificant than attract their attention.

  Once the man disappeared into the fog, Raphael scanned the surrounding brick walls for an easy means back to the roof. Though clearly rotted with age, the nearby door’s frame and the boards covering the windows above it should be able to bear his weight. He quickly scaled the wall and set off for Mayfair.

  As he passed through Cheapside, the distinct scent of a livery had him dropping back down to the street. Katerina’s vampires ignored him because they were accustomed to his presence. Even though Aleric would be with him, Aleric might not gain such a concession. Best to use a carriage to travel most of the distance.

  He pulled open the door. Only a single lantern illuminated the aisle. The quiet was broken by a horse moving about in its stall, the straw rustling beneath its hooves. He nudged an old groom sprawled in a chair just inside the door. The man rubbed the sleep from his eyes as Raphael relayed his instructions. A closed carriage with a driver. No additional footmen required. The carriage would be back at the livery before dawn. The man grabbed a scrap of paper and a pencil from the dirt-dusted brick floor next to his chair and scrawled out Raphael’s address.

  “You’ll be paying now?”

  He reached into the pocket of his greatcoat. The man’s eyes widened at the thick fold of pound notes. He handed over the correct sum, and then added one more note to ensure a timely arrival.

  “Most kind of you, sir.” The man gave a deferential half bow. He shoved the notes and the scrap of paper into a pocket of his trousers. Dragging a hand along his scruffy jaw, he regarded Raphael. “How come you don’t got no shoes?”

  Because soles slip on shingles. He kept his expression blank. “Must have misplaced them.”

  The heavily lined face twisted in confusion. Then the man shook his gray head and turned, snagging a brush from a shelf on the wall. “Nabobs. Ain’t got no sense…”

  Raphael closed the door behind him, cutting off the rest of the man’s grumbled words. He should have remembered about the shoes. What sort of gentleman went about Town barefoot? Hopefully he hadn’t just sparked the man’s curiosity. He had enough worries to fend off. The last thing he needed tonight was a questioning driver.

  As he made his way back to his home, those worries he had managed to keep at bay gathered force, colliding in his head. What if Katerina took exception to Aleric? She had previously implied she allowed Raphael’s solitary presence only because he had been in the city before she had arrived. If she objected to Aleric, he doubted they’d ever walk out of her home. Lovely yet lethal, Katerina could easily dispense with them. Or with just Aleric, or just Raphael, depending on her mood. From the moment they stepped through her front door, they would be completely at her whim. But a necessary risk to ensure Aleric’s safety. The man would never be able to move freely about London without her approval.

  More than that, though, as Aleric’s creator, Raphael saw it as his responsibility to educate the man and help him choose the path for his new life. He would not sentence Aleric to the confusion and the missteps he himself had endured after he had awoken a vampire. If Katerina extended the invitation, and Raphael had a nagging suspicion she would, then Aleric could join her clan. And clan life was an option for Aleric. One Raphael feared would pose a tempting lure. As a man accustomed to evenings devoted to vice and debauchery, it was the closest thing to his old way of life.

  An option Raphael hoped beyond hope Aleric wouldn’t exercise, but he couldn’t keep the man ignorant of his choices and selfishly keep him with him, no matter how much he wished it.

  It was the least he could do, really, considering he had condemned Aleric to this life.

  The loneliness, the isolation. The constant need to hide himself from others. His only reprieve from the emptiness the possibility of seeing Aleric for a few brief hours. On those nights when he couldn’t find him, when he had searched the city in vain…

  Pure torture.

  What if Aleric chose to leave him? Raphael crossed Hart Street and headed north, occasionally dropping to street level to traverse the lush expanses of cool grass in the neatly manicured Squares. He didn’t know if he could go back to how it had been before he’d first laid eyes on Aleric. The nights stretching infinitely long. Void of all hope, of any glimmer of happiness.

  He reached his townhouse and stopped to rub his chest, trying to soothe the ache. How could just the thought of losing Aleric hurt so much? He had no claim on the man, yet every fiber of his being rebelled at the possibility, demanded he do everything in his power to keep him by his side.

  No. A harsh wince crossed his face. Aleric would either choose to stay with him of his own accord, or choose to leave and either join a clan or live his own solitary life. Raphael would not take the choice he had never had away from Aleric.

  At least the man hadn’t damned him to hell, cursed him, or shrank away from him in fright last night. Of that, he counted himself fortunate. He had been called a monster and a vile beast more than once. The experience unpleasant but endurable. From Aleric’s lips, though, those words would have caused far more than a mere flinch. They would have destroyed him completely.

  He took a few deep breaths, gathering his composure, and then crouched and peered over the slate shingles of the roof to the fro
nt of the house. The drapes of the bedchamber billowed slightly in the night breeze. The white sheer fabric backing the dark green velvet fluttered just beyond the window he’d left open.

  A quick change of clothes into something more appropriate and then he’d inform Aleric of their errand. His resolve in place, he swung down and into his home.

  Aleric stretched out an arm and encountered cool sheets. He bolted upright, his gaze skipping about the empty room.

  Where was Raphael?

  He closed his eyes and focused solely on listening, but could detect no sounds coming from within the house. Raphael wasn’t in the house. He couldn’t pinpoint how he knew that. The knowledge was just there. A solid, indisputable fact.

  He was alone.

  Tendrils of apprehension wound around his chest, tightening ever more.

  Hell, he felt like he was standing on the doorstep of his old boarding school, his trunk at his feet, and watching the family traveling carriage move away from him. Not that any family member had been in that carriage. Cross with him over his latest spot of trouble, his father hadn’t even bothered to see him off.

  Raphael will come back to me. He told me he’d see me again come nightfall.

  As he repeated the words in his head, the tightness in his chest eased just enough for common sense to descend.

  “Nor are you eight years of age anymore,” he admonished himself.