small goatee. The last would have been amusing
under other circumstances, as if he was trying to make his pleasant
face appear more sinister.
She wondered why he didn’t just bare his
fangs.
“I don’t see as it makes a difference, if
you’re aiming to feed off her,” the guard said, angry, but smart
enough not to show it.
Those liquid dark eyes swept over her. “What
I do with the woman is my affair.”
“Ahh. Some sport beforehand, then. I’d not
risk it, meself. One of my men tried the night she was brought in,
and the bitch cursed him. He’s in a bad way, still.”
“How tragic,” the vampire sounded amused.
The guard must have thought so, too, because
his already florid features flushed even darker. “See if you’re
laughing with a pillicock the size of a pin!” he spat.
The vampire ignored him and put a hand
beneath Gillian’s arm, helping her to stand. “I’d let you out of
those, but I’m afraid you’d hex me,” he said cheerfully, nodding at
her cuffs. “And I like my privities the way they are.” He glanced
at the guard. “Tell me about her.”
“One of them that’s been operating out of the thicket,” the man said
resentfully, referring to Maidenhead thicket on the road between London and Bristol,
where Gillian’s group had had some success relieving travellers of
their excess wealth.
“ Ah, yes.
I met a robber there myself, not long ago.” The vampire smiled at
her. “He was delicious.”
Gillian just stared. Did he always talk to
his food this much before eating it?
“But I must say,” he commented, his eyes on
her worn gown, greasy red hair and dirty face. “For a member of one
of the most notorious gangs of thieves in England, you do not look
very prosperous.”
Maybe I would , she thought furiously, if I didn’t have to spend most of my time avoiding people like
you.
Once, she’d had protection from his kind.
She’d been a member of one of the Druid covens that had ruled the
supernatural part of the British Isles for time out of mind. But
that had been before the arrival of the so-called “Silver Circle,”
an ancient society of light magic users who had brought nothing but
darkness to England.
They had arrived in force ten years ago, as
refugees of a vicious war on the continent. The religious tensions
that culminated with Spain launching the Armada had offered an
opportunity to one of the Circle’s oldest enemies. A group of dark
mages known as the Black Circle had joined forces with the
Inquisition under the pretense of helping to stamp out heresy. And
by all accounts, they had been brutally efficient at hunting down
their light counterparts.
But their suffering hadn’t made the Silver
Circle noticeably gentler on anyone else. They had but one goal in
mind—to rebuild their forces and retake control of magical Europe.
And they intended to start with England.
Gillian’s coven was one of those who had
refused their kind offers of “protection,” and preferred to
continue determining their own destiny. In return, they had been
subjected to a witch hunt mightier and more successful than
anything the Inquisition had ever managed. By the time they
realized just how far their fellow mages would go to support the
idea of a unified magical community, the covens had been decimated
through deceit, betrayal and murder.
But they haven’t killed all of us ,
Gillian thought viciously. Not yet. It was a fact that would
someday cost them dear.
The vampire had been watching her with
interest. She didn’t know how he could tell anything past the folds
of the gag, but apparently he saw something that amused him. His
smile became almost genuine.
“See my man about payment,” he told the
guard, his eyes never leaving her face. “I’ll take this one with
me.”
“Take her?” The guard’s scowl became more
pronounced. “Take her where?”
“That is my affair,” the vampire
repeated.
“Not if ye’re planning to make off wi’ her,
it damn well isn’t! No
under other circumstances, as if he was trying to make his pleasant
face appear more sinister.
She wondered why he didn’t just bare his
fangs.
“I don’t see as it makes a difference, if
you’re aiming to feed off her,” the guard said, angry, but smart
enough not to show it.
Those liquid dark eyes swept over her. “What
I do with the woman is my affair.”
“Ahh. Some sport beforehand, then. I’d not
risk it, meself. One of my men tried the night she was brought in,
and the bitch cursed him. He’s in a bad way, still.”
“How tragic,” the vampire sounded amused.
The guard must have thought so, too, because
his already florid features flushed even darker. “See if you’re
laughing with a pillicock the size of a pin!” he spat.
The vampire ignored him and put a hand
beneath Gillian’s arm, helping her to stand. “I’d let you out of
those, but I’m afraid you’d hex me,” he said cheerfully, nodding at
her cuffs. “And I like my privities the way they are.” He glanced
at the guard. “Tell me about her.”
“One of them that’s been operating out of the thicket,” the man said
resentfully, referring to Maidenhead thicket on the road between London and Bristol,
where Gillian’s group had had some success relieving travellers of
their excess wealth.
“ Ah, yes.
I met a robber there myself, not long ago.” The vampire smiled at
her. “He was delicious.”
Gillian just stared. Did he always talk to
his food this much before eating it?
“But I must say,” he commented, his eyes on
her worn gown, greasy red hair and dirty face. “For a member of one
of the most notorious gangs of thieves in England, you do not look
very prosperous.”
Maybe I would , she thought furiously, if I didn’t have to spend most of my time avoiding people like
you.
Once, she’d had protection from his kind.
She’d been a member of one of the Druid covens that had ruled the
supernatural part of the British Isles for time out of mind. But
that had been before the arrival of the so-called “Silver Circle,”
an ancient society of light magic users who had brought nothing but
darkness to England.
They had arrived in force ten years ago, as
refugees of a vicious war on the continent. The religious tensions
that culminated with Spain launching the Armada had offered an
opportunity to one of the Circle’s oldest enemies. A group of dark
mages known as the Black Circle had joined forces with the
Inquisition under the pretense of helping to stamp out heresy. And
by all accounts, they had been brutally efficient at hunting down
their light counterparts.
But their suffering hadn’t made the Silver
Circle noticeably gentler on anyone else. They had but one goal in
mind—to rebuild their forces and retake control of magical Europe.
And they intended to start with England.
Gillian’s coven was one of those who had
refused their kind offers of “protection,” and preferred to
continue determining their own destiny. In return, they had been
subjected to a witch hunt mightier and more successful than
anything the Inquisition had ever managed. By the time they
realized just how far their fellow mages would go to support the
idea of a unified magical community, the covens had been decimated
through deceit, betrayal and murder.
But they haven’t killed all of us ,
Gillian thought viciously. Not yet. It was a fact that would
someday cost them dear.
The vampire had been watching her with
interest. She didn’t know how he could tell anything past the folds
of the gag, but apparently he saw something that amused him. His
smile became almost genuine.
“See my man about payment,” he told the
guard, his eyes never leaving her face. “I’ll take this one with
me.”
“Take her?” The guard’s scowl became more
pronounced. “Take her where?”
“That is my affair,” the vampire
repeated.
“Not if ye’re planning to make off wi’ her,
it damn well isn’t! No
Similar Books
