Lord vampyre, p.1
Lord Vampyre, page 1
Lord Vampyre
By
Wendy Rathbone
Lord Vampyre Copyright © 2018
by Wendy Rathbone and Eye Scry Publications
A publication by:
Eye Scry Publications
www.eyescrypublications.com
Cover by: Sadie Sins
TITLE: Lord Vampyre
Author: Wendy Rathbone
© All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced wholly or in part without prior written permission from the publisher and author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages. Neither may any section of this book be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or other, without prior written permission from the author, except as exempted by legitimate purchase through the author's website, Amazon.com or other authorized retailer.
Address all inquiries to the author at:
wrathbone@juno.com
Acknowledgments
I’d like to give a special thanks to Sadie Sins for this book’s stunningly gorgeous cover.
Also, a thousand thank yous to Christina E. Pilz for a wonderful beta-read of this novel.
And last but best of all, thank you to my partner Della Van Hise for help with formatting and uploading my books. I couldn’t do this without you.
Note to Readers
This novel is set in a make-believe country with an 1800s-ish backdrop. It is more of a fairytale love story, not a historical, and though one main character is a vampire, this is not a horror story. The focus is male/male and male/male/male romance.
-- WR
Chapter One
Ten-year-old Vanni leaned against the cold, damp iron of the balcony rail and watched the carriage, pulled by a team of gleaming black stallions, come up the far lane overlooking the sea. The carriage became invisible for a brief moment as it plowed through hovering fog, then turned into the drive.
The ocean was a low growl to his left. The woods beyond the cliff-road pulsed dark green, almost black.
Vanni shivered in his thin clothes, but secretly liked the feeling. The shadowy foreboding of something new. Cool anticipation.
Father was home and bringing strangers with him to Cliffside Keep.
Now, maybe things wouldn’t be so boring.
Vanni rushed from the balcony, through his room and down the vast hall. Orange oil lamps flickered, making his shadow huge on the salt-damp walls. Down the curving line of stone stairs he leapt, taking two at a time. He was at the wide, front entrance before the footman had even opened the door of the carriage to let its occupants out.
Servants had already gathered along the path to the steps to greet their duke’s return.
Vanni stopped at the center of the threshold which was framed by a thick, wood arch with ornate carvings of snakes and wolves intertwined, mouths open and showing fangs.
He stood very still and straight, hands clasped behind his back. His chest heaved. His heart galloped with excitement. But he kept himself in check, his muscles locked, his mouth an emotionless line. His blond hair was pulled back in a tight tail, but strands of it had escaped. The sea-breeze pushed the tendrils against his cheek, tickling it. He ignored the sensation and did not move a muscle, only watched.
The first person to emerge from the carriage was the duke. He did not look too different from the last time Vanni had seen him six months ago. His short cloak was black with a crimson lining. His dark head was bare, the hair receding a bit at the temples, pulled back with a dark ribbon. He stomped the ground twice, as if glad to be home to his vast properties, his earth, then turned to the carriage and lifted his leather gloved hand.
A white-gloved hand met his. A lady emerged, dressed all in lavender and pink, the taffeta overflowing in ruffles down to the ground. She looked like a cake and very young, but not too young for the duke, who enjoyed courting women half his age.
Vanni had read the note his father had sent. He knew what to expect. His father was bringing home a new woman named Jessie. Not as a fiancé. Not as a future wife. But as a consort. A mistress.
Being a duke – Duke Andreas of Cliffside Keep – Father was allowed this luxury. But if she was not upper class, he was not allowed to marry her. It had been the talk of the village, the gossip rife with the public boldness of the duke, living with a woman who was not a lady, and more than ten years his junior. And it was not only scandalous because she was young and a widow, but because she had already borne a son to another man who was not the duke.
Vanni could not help but tilt his head, craning his neck to see beyond the massive folds of the consort’s taffeta to the darkened chamber of the carriage. Where was he? This boy? For that was who Vanni was really waiting to see.
Finally, a small, dark figure jumped from the confines of the carriage. He had long hair, black as an October night. And large, grave eyes. And a body no bigger than a small hound. He wore gray knickers and a matching gray vest over a white shirt. His knee socks were askew, but his footing was sure.
Vanni pegged him at about eight years old. What a relief!
He had hoped the boy would be younger than Vanni’s own ten years. He’d already planned a lot of shenanigans around the Keep, and he wanted to be the boss. In everything.
How he’d longed for a playmate during his lonely upbringing at the Keep.
Now, he couldn’t care less about the mistress his father had brought home. He had eyes only for the boy.
“Giovanni!”
Vanni looked up and into his father’s gaze.
“Come,” his father ordered. “Meet our new friends.”
Slowly, Vanni took the steps down to the path, ignoring the servants. He kept an eye on the boy, who stood halfway behind his mother’s skirts.
As much as Vanni was thrilled, a part of him was jealous, too. His father had been gone for six months. He’d spent time with these people while ignoring Vanni. Vanni had begged to be allowed to go on this trip with the duke, but was told his studies were more important and could not be ignored.
Hands still clasped behind his back, Vanni stood before his father and raised his gaze.
“Hello, son. I trust you have been a good boy and studying hard while I’ve been gone?”
Vanni nodded once, trying not to bite down on his lower lip. His father did not embrace him, nor did he give any indication he might have missed Vanni. Instead, he reached for his new companion and brought her a step forward.
“This is the new mistress of Cliffside Keep. You are to treat her with the utmost respect and manners.”
“Hello.” Vanni’s voice came out softer, shyer than he had intended.
“And you are Giovanni!” she exclaimed. “Why, you don’t look a thing like your father. You must take after your mother.”
He did not know what to say about that. It had been the rule of the Keep never to bring up his mother. He wasn’t sure why, but no one talked of her.
She turned to the duke. “Andreas, your son is charming. And he is ten, you say?” She turned back to Vanni. “My dear, you look so composed for ten. I would have thought you were older.”
Vanni bowed his head. “Thank you, uh, um, miss…”
“You may call me Jessie.”
Vanni only nodded.
Jessie turned toward the boy behind her. “Damion, come forward.”
Damion. So that was his name. Vanni watched the younger boy poke his head out from behind the taffeta and take a tentative step forward. His bare knees bent, delicate but sharp, as he took another step.
“Hello,” said Damion.
For a long moment, Vanni studied the boy. Damion, dark-eyed, gaze never wavering, studied him in return.
Vanni felt an energy between them, non-verbal and private as they each quietly assessed the other’s attributes. He was being examined and judged, the same as he was doing to the other boy. As if their other selves were already having a conversation on another plane in another time.
Coming to the conclusion that this boy was little threat and—thank the fates—two years his junior, Vanni took a step back. Unable to hide his excitement at having a new playmate, Vanni said quickly, “Want to see my room? It’s almost as big as my father’s room!”
Damion’s eyebrows rose quickly. His eyes nearly glowed. “Yes!”
“You may both run along now,” the duke said.
Vanni turned and skipped up the steps, hearing the footsteps of Damion already close behind. As he passed through the entryway, he heard Jessie say, “Look, Andreas, I knew they’d get along!”
*
As they ran up the stone staircase, Damion, who had behaved shyly in front of the adults, seemed to lose all his fears at once. He began to pepper Vanni with questions.
“Have you always lived by the sea?” “Will we be sharing a room?” “Are you really ten?” “You seem a lot older.”
Lonely for so long, Vanni’s heart burst open. A smile spread out on his face. He did not remember the last time he’d grinned so wide it hurt the muscles of his cheeks.
He turned and grasped the boy’s hand. “You’re going to have your own huge room! And yes, I’m ten! And yes, I have always lived here.” And I have always wanted a little brother. Damion wasn’t his real brother, of course, but he was the next best thing.
When they got to Vanni’s room and entered, Damion gasped in awe. “This is huge. You live like a prince.”
Grateful for the flattery, Vanni gave in to blind trust right then and there. He couldn’t help it. A
“I’m so glad I’m here, too.” Damion met his grin and began to laugh.
The roar of the waves was diminished in Vanni’s rooms, but he could still hear the distant roll and crash of falling water. The sea sounded like it was laughing, now, too.
Chapter Two
“Did you know,” said Vanni to Damion, who sat on the rug before the hearth bent over a checkerboard. “When I was your age I went into the wood down by the cave of the old sea-witches. All by myself.”
“Sea-witches?” Damion’s eyes flickered in the firelight, growing round and large. “A cave?”
They were in the drawing room with the red velvet curtains drawn against the bleak windows. The fire smelled of cedar. It staved off the almost constant salt scent of the sea.
It had rained hard earlier in the day and they’d been ordered to stay indoors. The sea crashed and roared. Vanni could tell it disturbed Damion, though the boy had yet to complain after two weeks living in the Keep.
“I called out to them. I said I wanted to see them and that if they appeared before me I would give them my soul.”
“No! You didn’t say such a thing!”
“I did. But nothing happened. The tide was calm in the cave, clear. I could see all the way to the bottom of the pool there. Nothing. Just sand and rocks. And more sand.”
“But what are they? Like mermaids?”
“Or mermen,” Vanni said smartly. “They’re both boys and girls, you know.”
“I know. But they aren’t real, though. Not really.” Damion’s voice was almost a whisper.
“Maybe. Maybe not. My father forbids me going there, but I’ll sneak you down there soon. Maybe we’ll find one leftover from before anyone settled here, before the village. They don’t die, so you never know.”
“They don’t die?”
Vanni came around the sofa to stand on the rug where Damion sat. “Nope.”
“How come?”
Vanni grinned. “Because they feed on the blood of little boys!” He reached out fast and pinched Damion on the neck.
Damion flinched, but didn’t scream. Instead, he jumped to his feet. “They do not.”
“They do.”
“You’re trying to scare me.”
“Don’t you like being scared? It’s fun.”
Damion stared at him. “No. But I don’t get scared, either. Not from old fairytales. Anyway, if there are monsters, why would they bother with us? We’re just children.”
“You’re probably right. So you’re not too scared to go with me?”
Damion slowly shook his head.
“Good. I’ll take you to the cave tomorrow if it doesn’t rain again.”
“Won’t you get in trouble?” Damion asked.
“Who’s going to tell?” Vanni smiled when Damion agreed to the plan, but felt a little evil to be teasing Damion who was still so new to the area. But in truth, he was happy to have a companion to play with, and to explore his father’s vast acreage.
So far there wasn’t anything Vanni suggested that Damion hadn’t agreed to. And when Damion followed him everywhere, and gave him devoted looks, something inside Vanni opened to the power of it. He liked being bossy sometimes. But along with that came a feeling of protectiveness, too. Damion was very sweet, and Vanni liked him more and more every day. He would never let anything happen to the boy. Because now, even though they’d only known each other two weeks, Vanni could not imagine life without him.
*
Vanni said, “Come on.”
Damion stood back a ways from the lip of the sea cave. Tufts of thin, yellow grass fluttered at his feet from the low breeze. The day had dawned clear. The sky stretched blue over the still angry, near-black ocean.
“Those rocks look slippery,” Damion said.
“They have tiny holes in them. They aren’t slick.” Vanni held out his hand. Damion came forward.
Inside the cave, they could hear water slosh against stone. It took a moment for Vanni’s eyes to adjust to the shadowy darkness. It smelled of salt spray, a little bracken.
Damion’s hand tightened against Vanni’s palm. “Do you think sea-witches actually lived here?” he asked in a loud whisper.
Vanni tried not to smile. “I think so.”
When their eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Vanni saw how the rocks curved forming a natural pool. He moved forward, dragging Damion with him, and sat with his feet dangling over the water. The tide shifted, drawing water in and out of another entrance underground. The water level rose, then receded over and over.
Damion sat beside Vanni, who finally pulled his hand away. “I think they swam in here and rested right where we are sitting.”
“The witches?”
“Yes. And they liked it so much they stayed. They set up their home here. They brought in their kelp sea-beds, and their chairs made of red coral. And they dined on a table made from a giant shell. They ate sea-bass, mostly. And lobster. And crab.”
“How do you know?”
“I just see it so clearly in my thoughts.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe it’s a dream,” Damion suggested.
“Then how do I have this?” From his pocket, Vanni pulled out a small abalone comb about three inches long with teeth the length of his pinky finger. He held it up so it reflected the light coming into cave entrance. A rainbow played across the surface of the comb’s base.
“I found this in here.”
“Wow.” Damion’s eyes got big. “Can I hold it?”
Vanni handed it over.
Damion turned it against his palm. “It feels cold.”
“The sea-witches have long dark hair, sort of like yours, but sleek like a seal all the way down their backs. They used this, I think, to comb the tangles out.”
“You really found this here?”
Vanni nodded. He wasn’t lying. One summer ago he’d found it after a storm, lying at the edge of the cave-pool, gleaming in the weak light. At first it had scared him. Someone had been in his secret cave. But when he took it in his hand and held it, a tremendous peacefulness surrounded him.
“It’s treasure,” he said to Damion. “I’ll share it with you. You can keep it in your pocket sometimes, all right?”
Damion nodded.
“Do you think the mermaids—or sea-witches—have big tails?” Damion asked.
“Maybe. But I think they walk on land, too. So I’m not sure how that works.”
“Why do you call them sea-witches?”
Vanni shrugged. “I heard the word once. I don’t remember how. It just seemed right. And real. They would be magic people, right? And witches know magic. And the sea holds magic and secrets. And this is a sea cave.”
“Yes,” Damion agreed. “It seems right. Sea-witches.” He paused, then said, “I wish they weren’t all gone.”
“Maybe they’re not. Maybe they’re just hiding,” Vanni said.
Damion gave a little shiver.
“Are you cold?” Vanni asked.
“Yes, a little.”
Vanni stood. “Let’s go back. I’m hungry. Put the comb in your pocket.”
When he stood, Damion did as instructed. Then he turned all the way around surveying the cave.
“They would be nice, though, right? The sea-witches?” asked Damion. “They wouldn’t hurt people. They wouldn’t really drink the blood of boys.”
“No. Not unless people hurt them first,” Vanni replied.
Just then, the sea gave a roar and dark water rushed into the basin of the pool. The water rose so rapidly, it splashed over the rocky edge spitting its foam on the boys’ boots. They both jumped back.
Then, without another word, they turned and ran back to the Keep.
*
Andreas greeted them at the door.
“I’ve been looking for you boys. Where did you go?”
